ã€ŠHarry Potter: The Golden Viperã€‹


 001 Night of Shadows (Rewritten)

    001 Night of Shadows (Rewritten)

    December 27, 1992.

    Christmas had just passed, and Oxford Street in London''s West End was already bustling with people. Muggles dressed in new clothes walked on the streets, enjoying the festive atmosphere and the dazzling window disys. Childrenughed and yed, throwing snowballs at each other or admiring the colorful lights and decorations. Young people who met each other gave sincere New Year''s greetings, exchanging hugs and kisses. And everyone had a longing for a good life in their hearts, even if the snowstorm could not extinguish the smiles on their faces.

    For wizards, Christmas was also one of the most important holidays of the year, but wizard families celebrated Christmas differently from muggles.

    They preferred to stay in the warm indoors, listening to the crackling sound of the fire in the firece, sitting under the Christmas tree covered with silver frost and mistletoe, and discussing Quidditch or thetest news.

    Therefore, as the wizarding business center, Diagon Alley was always very lonely in the first few days of the new year, let alone Knockturn Alley, which was also sparsely popted on weekdays.

    ng, ng, ck!

    Bryan, who was hidden under arge ck cloak, got off the small cart of the same model as Gringotts, and even though his stomach was churning, he had to act calmly in order to maintain his cold persona.

    The air was filled with the stench of fermented mucus worm slime soaked in rotten frog guts. The uneven ground was wet and sticky. A row of inverted torches hung neatly in mid-air, emitting a green light that illuminated the huge fan-shaped underground cavern as gloomy as a ghost.

    Bryan looked around. On the left side of the cave, two hundred feet away from him, there was a ''pet'' market. There was a giant creature that was fifteen feet tall and had its limbs firmly bound by iron chains as thick as a bowl. Ity on the ground listlessly, almost blending in with the dark rocks.

    Its owner was an old witch from Moldova with broken teeth. She brought it here hoping to sell it for a good price, so that she could use the money to treat her dragon pox.

    But unfortunately, it had been on sale for two years and no one was interested.

    At this moment, the old witch was leaning on the ve''s toe, cursing at arge group of house-elves next to her, using them of polluting the environment.

    They were a group of house-elves who had lost their masters and gained their freedom.

    Of course, using the word ''freedom'' to describe house-elves was like using ''beast'' to describe centaurs. They would not be grateful.

    These poor little fellows mostly belonged to some small wizarding families or secret Schools. Their masters had disappeared in the river of time for various reasons, which forced them to be free.

    Having no master was a very terrible thing for house-elves. It almost deprived them of their value of existence. So they gathered here spontaneously, hoping to find new masters for themselves.

    But to be honest, apart from some dark wizards who needed living materials to experiment with curses and potions, few people would pay attention to them.

    The giant creature was very friendly to the house-elves. Bryan had once seen it p several of them to death with its palm when it was hungry and stuff them into its mouth with a crunch.

    Besides the giant creature and the house-elves, you could also see many other interesting creatures in the ''pet'' market that smelled like a toilet. For example, centaurs who had lost their n''s protection, ves who were identally captured (hotmodities), vampires locked in cages, or Irish leprechauns who were very good living materials.

    Basically, except for dragons and unicorns that were particrly tabooed magical creatures, you could find most of the existing magical creatures in the wizarding world in the underground pet market.

    On the right side of the cave wall, the trading market still maintained the simple style of medieval Europe. But the things sold on those stalls that were casually ced on the ground were not so simple.

    Books containing ck magic from ancient Greece, potions that greatly increased one''s magic power but had unknown side effects, alchemical items that could instantly wipe out life on arge scale - in short,pared with those things, the products sold at Borgin and Burkes could only be regarded as prank products that small wizards liked. The Devil''s Snare here was only suitable for being used as decorative nts.

    Bryan even saw a curse seed of the ck death that had ughtered all over Europe in an Italian wizard''s hand. ording to him, his curse seed had been weakened. But if it spread out, killing a city of muggles would not be too difficult. Of course, the curse seed had an amazing price that matched its effect. Otherwise, Bryan would really like to buy it and study it.

    And this was the dark side of the wizarding world. A ce where there was now.

    After a while, Bryan felt better and walked towards the center of the cavern, gradually joining the sparse crowd.

    Most of the people who were active here wore ck robes and did not want to be seen by others.

    Only a few reckless madmen and wizards who just happened to pass by from Britain dared to show their faces in front of the surveince personnel who had infiltrated from the Ministry of Magic.

    Yes, you heard that right.

    The underground world of Knockturn Alley had secret Aurors stationed there. But their existence was only to monitor that nothing ''out of line'' happened here, not to eradicate it. Unless, the Ministry of Magic wanted to go to war with all the ancient schools and dark wizards that still existed in Britain.

    The square area surrounded by granite walls in the center of the cavern was themission market of the underground world. On one end of the wall, there was a tall signpost. On the snake-patterned wooden sign, hundreds ofmission papers with red magic contract glows were posted, quietly waiting for someone to take them down.

    Bryan stood under the sign and looked around. He didn''t find any valuablemissions, so he turned around and found a stone stool to sit down and wait for his trading partner to arrive.

    Maybe it was because of the arrival of the new year, there were not many people here either. In therge area, there were only two people talking in a low voice ten feet behind him on the right.

    One of them was wearing a brown hemp robe. His bald head was covered with pus-filled blisters and scabies. He looked like he was eighty years old. He heard the noise and looked up at Bryan.

    He seemed to disdain Bryan''s practice of hiding his true face under a twisted magic vortex. He grinned his mouth with only three or four yellow teeth left, spitting out a foul wind. His face was half ck like charred old tree bark, and half covered with pink, tentacle-like little flesh buds that wriggled madly. It was very hideous.

    But when the old wizard noticed the golden snake embroidered on Bryan''s cor, he quickly retracted his disgusting smile, nodded politely and looked away.

    Bryan was interested in the old wizard''s interesting face.

    If he guessed correctly, it should be the damage caused by a failed attempt to release a curse that cut off one''s soul when making a Horcrux, which resulted in a severe bacsh of magic.

    ording to Bryan''s knowledge, there was only one thing that could temporarily slow down the spread of this curse damage. And the conversation between the two people next verified his guess.

    "It''s very hard to get, and very dangerous. You should know where in Britain you can find unicorns!" The wizard opposite the old wizard took out a ss cup from under his ck robe. The liquid in the cup shone silver in the dim underground world. He said cautiously. The old wizard understood what he meant. He let out a sharp coldugh and also took out a piece of mithril as big as a fist from his chest and threw it on the table.

    Because of the loopholes in traditional magic education, wild school wizards often could achieve mastery in some aspects, but they might be as ignorant as novices who had just touched magic in other aspects. Theycked a systematic andprehensive understanding of magic theory and practice. And modern magic education based on schools had a high probability of not producing any amazing talents, but at least bnced. They ensured that every student had a solid foundation and a broad vision of magic.

    Knowledge bnce was very important.

    At least for now, any Hogwarts O.W.L.s level qualified student would not be fooled by a potion that had been transfigured and added with two unicorn feathers. They would know that unicorn blood had a distinctive silver color and a sweet smell, and that it could not be mixed with any other substance without losing its effect.

    /FicFrenzy

 002 The Fawley Family (Re-Written)

    002 The Fawley Family (Re-Written)

    ¡°You dare¨C¡±

    The voice was cut off abruptly by a loud bang, as if a thunderbolt had struck the dark and damp underworld. The gloomy ce, where only the dim light of torches and fireces could barely illuminate the sinister faces of the criminals and outcasts, suddenly burst into angry howls, as sharp as the roar of a werewolf when he sees the full moon.

    ¡°y¨C¡±

    The third second after taking the confusion drug, the old wizard pped the table and stood up, his eyes wide open with rage and madness. The dense pustules and scabies on his head quickly turned from red to purple, from purple to ck, and then, like a magic potion that was about to be boiled over, they began to bubble and pop. The thorns on his face also became excited, they twisted frantically, while growing rapidly, as if they couldn¡¯t wait to get away from the old wizard¡¯s face. His skin cracked and bled, revealing the rotten flesh and bones underneath.

    ¡°Great¨C¡±

    The old wizard was furious, and his tone of voice was full of anger and pain. He raised a short and thick wand with a gem on the top, as if he wanted to give a vicious curse to the guy who deceived him.

    But unfortunately, he seemed to forget that his current state had already lost control of the violent and evil magic power that coursed through his veins. The active spellcasting behavior made his own chaotic and disorderly magic power further out of control. He was like a wax man who was roasted on a me, starting from his head and spreading to his whole body, quickly melting.

    In the blink of an eye, the living person turned into a pool of ck pus on the ground!

    ¡°Sorry, great¡­ what?¡±

    The Thin Wizard who traded with the old wizard sneered strangely. He grabbed the mithril on the table and stuffed it into his robe. Then he walked to the pool of pus and looked at it for a few times. He pulled out the wand left by the old wizard from inside and looked at the ruby on top of it carefully by the torch hanging in mid-air. The ruby sparkled with a faint light, indicating that it still had some magic power left.

    Through thatyer of ck cloth that covered his face, Bryan could feel his smugness and greed. The Thin Wizard noticed his gaze and turned his head to look at Bryan with an unpleasant expression. He seemed to think that Bryan wanted to do something, so he whispered threateningly,

    ¡°In this ce, greed and curiosity can lead you to lose your life at any time, Golden Viper. Don¡¯t think that you can scare everyone by tearing up a few big wolves¨C¡±

    Bryan sneered contemptuously. He lowered his head and stared deeply at the pool of liquid. After a while, an old and hoarse voice came out from under his hood,

    ¡°Thank you for your reminder, Mr. Liar, but you seem to have forgotten one thing. Besides greed and curiosity, carelessness is also very deadly.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Just as the Thin Wizard was stunned, a ck shadow with scarlet eyes suddenly emerged from the pool of pus. The shadow was like a death god, floating in mid-air and roaring at the Thin Wizard,

    ¡°Embrace death with me, shameless man!¡±

    The shadow in the air was beyond the Thin Wizard¡¯sprehension. He had no intention of fighting against it. He turned around and wanted to run away. But unfortunately, every inch of space in the underworld was bound by anti-illusion shifting spells, preventing anyone from escaping or hiding by magic. And the nearest firece that could be used as a portal was at least half a mile away.

    Before the Thin Wizard could run out of the low wall that surrounded the trading area, the huge shadow like death god had already caught up with him. It swooped down from mid-air to the ground. It opened its mouth full of sharp teeth and swallowed the Thin Wizard¡¯s body and his scream in an instant!

    Crunching, crunching, crunching-¡ª¡ª

    The sound of chewing that made people¡¯s teeth sour clearly entered their ears. The blood mixed with bone g and brain pulp fell to the ground like a stream. The thick and stinky bloody smell made Bryan frown secretly.

    The shadow form of the old wizard was just a struggle before dying. It couldn¡¯tst long in this world.

    After finishing off his enemy who killed him, the shadow quickly faded. Before itpletely disappeared, it turned around and stared at Bryan fiercely. His hoarse voice was full of resentment,

    ¡°You knew it was fake, but you didn¡¯t warn me!¡±

    ¡°Why do you me your stupidity on others?¡±

    Bryan said coldly,

    ¡°Before I be interested in your current form, you¡¯d better disappear quickly. Otherwise, I don¡¯t mind letting you live in a ss bottle for decades before sending you to hell.¡±

    Bryan¡¯s words were irrefutable. The shadow sighed helplessly. He looked around with nostalgia and then his figure fadedpletely. He walked towards death with big steps, leaving behind only a faint trace of his soul.

    Some people around noticed the movement here, but none of them were surprised by what happened. Nor did anyone want toe closer and ask what happened. Just like what the Thin wizard said, in this ce where there is no way out, curiosity can kill you at any time.

    The dark air cut through a silver light. Bryan summoned out the mithril covered with tooth marks from the flesh and blood, cleaned it up with a flick of his wand, and then put it in his pocket indifferently, feeling very happy.

    With a crisp snap of his fingers, the pus and blood that the old wizard turned into and the shattered flesh of the Thin Wizard burst into golden magic fire. In just a few moments, the fire cleaned up the dirty ground and destroyed thest traces of the two people in the world.

    Since he took other people¡¯s things, he had to help them deal with the aftermath. This is called public service.

    ¡°It seems that I missed a good show, Mr. Golden Viper?¡±

    Bryan turned his head to look at the source of the voice. A blond-haired, ck-eyed, friendly-looking middle-aged wizard was standing under a tall billboard that advertised some illegal potions and artifacts. He was smiling at him with a hint of sarcasm and curiosity.

    ¡°Maybe you were lucky enough to avoid trouble.¡±

    Bryan nodded and said indifferently.

    The visitor was named Kakus Fawley, a well-known broker in the underworld, from one of the sacred twenty-eight families, the Fawley family.

    This family used to be famous in the magical world. At its most glorious time, the head of the family even served as the minister of magic, and was one of the most powerful and influential families in Britain.

    But unfortunately, Hector Fawley, the minister of magic of the Fawley family at that time, did not have a strategic vision beyond reality. He ignored Albus Dumbledore¡¯s warning and misjudged how much damage Gellert Grindelwald, the ambitious dark lord who was in full swing at that time, would bring to Britain and even the whole European magical world. As a result, he was driven off by angry wizards who med him for his ipetence and negligence.

    And the Fawley family who lost their power protection also suffered a heavy blow and gradually disappeared from the British magical world.

    They lost their wealth, status, reputation, and allies. They became isted and despised by their former peers and friends. For two or three generations, the fallen Fawley family has been looking for some way to return to the center of the stage. They have tried many attempts, but always failed, because no matter which way they go, there is an insurmountable figure at the end of it.

    In fact, Albus Dumbledore never targeted the lonely Fawley family, but people in the magical world will not forget that it was because Hector ignored Dumbledore¡¯s warning that led to the heavy casualties of the British magical world in the process of fighting against Grindelwald. Fifty yearster, people¡¯s anger towards the Fawley family gradually faded away, but Albus Dumbledore was still alive!

    The current power holders of the Ministry of Magic always held a vignt attitude towards that old man in Hogwarts School. They had no need to risk offending the greatest wizard of this era for a dust that should have been drowned in the history.

    In the end, the helpless Fawley family decided to join the dark side.

    They sent out one of the few younger generations in their family who looked decent, willing to show their faces and bear the risk of being retaliated against in the underworld, trying to umte wealth and connections, and quietly waiting for an opportunity to return to the bright world.

    That person was Kakus Fawley, He had contacts with many shady characters and organizations in the underworld. He traded information, secrets, goods, services, and sometimes even lives. He was always looking for valuable clues and opportunities that could help him achieve his ultimate goal: to restore his family¡¯s glory and honor.

    /FicFrenzy

    Author''s Note: I have re-written this chapter, the core story has not changed. The grammatical errors and some confusing paragraphs are more refined.

 003 The New Commission

    003 The New Commission

    Bryan weighed the bag in his hand, expanded by the Undetectable Extension Charm. Even with the weight weakened by the Levitation Charm, it still felt excessively heavy. But the weight brought him immense happiness.

    Seven hundred gold Galleons¡ªthat was his reward after half a month of starving and foraging in the old forests of the Jura Mountains in France. It was enough to match the official staff of Hogwarts or a year''s sry for senior officials of the Ministry of Magic.

    After ensuring that the heart of the chicken-tailed monster he brought was intact, Kakus, sitting across from Bryan, closed the rough wooden box and smiled with satisfaction.

    "Your reputation shines brightest in the underground world, Mr. Viper. Every transaction with you is a perfect delight!"

    Bryan ignored Kakus''s praise, indifferent to the ttery. Everyone in this line of work had their own motives. It was best not to involve personal sentiments unless absolutely necessary.

    "What other decentmissions have you receivedtely?"

    "You remain as diligent as ever, Mr. Viper."

    Bryanck of response didn''t displease Kakus. In fact, most people in this line of work were cautious in their words and actions, so someone as polite and enthusiastic as Kakus stood out.

    Kakus continued to smile, undeterred by Bryan''s indifference. He took out his notebook from his pocket and flipped through it, muttering to himself. Finally, he reached thetest page of the notebook but couldn''t find a task that matched Bryan''s requirements.

    "I''m afraid I have to apologize, Mr. Golden Viper. Themissions that meet your preferences are usually in high demand. There was a task three days ago that involved providing raw materials and preparing magic activity inhibitors, worth 550 Galleons. Unfortunately, it was taken by someone else."

    Upon hearing this, Bryan stood up, ready to leave with determination.

    "Please wait, Mr. Golden Viper!"

    Kakus, who had prepared for this situation, immediately halted Bryan. Under Bryan''s unfriendly gaze, Kakus''s forehead throbbed with fear. He was afraid that Bryan might draw his wand and pin him to the ground, just as he had done to the unruly pack of werewolves.

    "I don''t mean any offense," Kakus quickly exined. "I truly don''t have anymissions that match your requirements. However, there are some highly lucrative and risky tasks. Would you be interested in hearing about them?"

    "Higher risk?" Bryan raised an eyebrow at Kakus''s words.

    Kakus, who had spent years in this business, knew how to evaluate high-risk tasks. It wasn''t about small jobs like smuggling. He sat back and nodded at Kakus.

    "Let''s hear it."

    Relieved, Kakus continued. "--The client sent me a magic contract from Albania. The reward for the first task is 20,000 Galleons. He hopes that someone can help him rescue the Lestrange couple and the Carrow brothers and sisters from Azkaban --thismission, What do you think?"

    "Hmph, I''m not that stupid, Kakus, I refuse thismission."

    Bryan refused without hesitation.

    If it was just to save people, Bryan might have hesitated considering the weight of Gallon. Although the dementors in Azkaban were dangerous, they were not impossible for him to deal with.

    The real danger of thismission lies in the fact that there are problems with the people being saved.

    Everyone in the wizarding world would know that the Lestrange couple and the Carrow brothers and sisters are the most radical Death Eaters. Once someone rescues them, it can be predicted that Dumbledore, who spent the rest of his life fighting Voldemort, will definitely intervene in the investigation. Bryan does not want to waste the rest of his life on the run.

    Besides, the location of Azkaban is a top secret in the Wizarding world, and it would take a considerable amount of time to find it.

    Kakus was not surprised by Bryan''s straightforward refusal. ording to him, the person who issued the task probably drank too much me Whiskey and was not so clear-headed. After all, who would be willing to face the dementors? me those disgusting, terrifying creatures?

    "Your choice is very wise, Mr. Viper. Then, let me think about it... There is anothermission. Someone ims to have found the address of a magical relic built by a powerful wizard in ancient times and hopes to recruit extraordinary wizards to guard it. The client said they can''t provide a direct highmission, but they are willing to share the discoveries in the ruins with the explorers. Take a look at thismission."

    Searching the ruins is indeed a possibility for high returns. Not only could they find items like gold, silver, and gemstones, but they could also discover many ancient magics that are now lost and known for their pursuit of power. If they can be used as references, it would be beneficial to Bryan''s own strength.

    However, after thinking for a while, Bryan still rejected themission.

    It wasn''t because he feared the risks. Exploring ruins requires a significant amount of time to prepare, and the oue is highly likely to be nothing. Bryan didn''t like relying on unreasonable luck for his ie.

    Kakus was very patient, introducing several long-cherishedmissions to Bryan, but eachmission either had disproportionate benefits to the risks involved or would cause enormous trouble uponpletion. Bryan rejected all of them.

    In the end, even Kakus was distressed by Bryan pickiness. He sat there and thought for a long time without saying a word.

    "There is one more, thest one, Mr. Viper. If you are not satisfied¡ª"

    After a long time, Kakus hesitantly leaned forward. Although he couldn''t see the expression behind the magic vortex on Bryan''s face, he observed the dangerous man opposite as best he could.

    "Have you heard of .....Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets?"

    "Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets?"

    Bryan''s body trembled. Although the memory of the plot in the previous life had mostly been lost, as someone who attended Hogwarts, it was impossible not to have heard of it. However, Bryan had fought with people in the underground world, and the spells and magical practices he had learned were cultivated under modern orthodox magical education, leaving no room for secrecy.

    "It''s just a Hogwarts campus legend. Why did you mention that?"

    Seeing Bryan taking the bait, Kakuswa was secretly delighted but remained calm.

    "You don''t often stay in the country, so you may not know. Although The Daily Prophet did not report on it, private news has been spreading. It is said that the Chamber of Secrets has truly been opened. In Hogwarts, someone is using the power of the Chamber to create panic. Dumbledore can do nothing about it..."

    "Wait!"

    Bryan interrupted Kakus unceremoniously, "What does this have to do with themission? Could someone pay me to protect those children in the school?"

    "Of course not!"

    Kakus smirked slyly.

    "However, the name of Szar Slytherin is indeed attractive enough, right? The client believes that Slytherin left secret treasures in the Chamber, which were supposedly obtained by the so-called heirs. Otherwise, how can we exin that even the powerful Dumbledore can''t find any clues?"

    Bryan remained silent. He didn''t remember much of the plot from the original book, but he did recall that there didn''t seem to be any wealth, magical items, or powerful alchemical props left in the Chamber. However, given the greedy nature of wizards, it was not surprising that such spections arose. After all, the founding Big Four of Hogwarts were powerful wizards with an official history and magical abilities that ordinary people couldn''t match. Once their legacy appeared, people would inevitably flock to it.

    "Even if that''s the case," Bryan said, unmoved, "if someone dares to break into Hogwarts and confront Dumbledore to im those things, it would be safer to go to Azkaban to rescue those lunatics."

    "It''s not necessarily about stealing, but about a more reasonable approach."

    Kakus was in high spirits, as if he had made up his mind to persuade Bryan.

    "I can provide some assistance, such as allowing you to serve as a school inspector who will enter the school under the pretext of an external investigator. The noble wizards on our school board need to respond to the horrors happening at the school to address the growing discontent. But at the same time, they are concerned that the attacks will continue to happen, and the wizards they have sent so far have been ineffective, making them theughingstock of the people. However, if they have reliable wizards, they would be willing to negotiate with Dumbledore. After all, Dumbledore''s performance in this series of events has been disappointing. They may feel he is slowing down due to his age..."

    "It seems like you have nned everything around me."

    Bryan remarked, seeing through Kakus''s intentions.

    Kakus''s heart tightened, but he maintained a humble smile.

    "After all, Albus Dumbledore''s approval is required to select investigators. Wizards from Hogwarts are the first choice, and their strength and reputation are crucial. Only you meet the requirements here."

    Bryan couldn''t deny it.

    "How do you n to keep my identity confidential? You should know that this will reveal my true face."

    As smart as Kakus Foley, he had thought about this issue long ago and eagerly replied.

    "The client won''t know that it''s Mr.Viper taking themission. While the school board will be aware of your name in the outside world, they won''t inquire about it from me, nor will they reveal your identity in the underground world."

    "What about you?"

    Bryan asked aggressively, "In your n, you are the only person who would know my identity in both the outside world and the underground world. How can I trust you?"

    Kakus smiled sincerely, his eyes reflecting his sincerity.

    "I would take an unbreakable oath, with the lives of everyone in the Fawley family as a guarantee. Your identity would remain a secret."

    Bryan scrutinized Kakus''s face, searching for any signs of deception. However, he didn''t seem to find any.

    "It appears that you could gain a substantial reward from thismission, am I right?"

    Kakus grinned confidently.

    "That is my personal secret, Mr. Viper."

    He continued, "With the gratitude of the school board, you might even receive an award from the Ministry of Magic in exchange for the secret treasures in the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets. Mr. Golden Viper, this deal is highly beneficial..."

 004 Unveiling Secrets

    004 Unveiling Secrets

    The heavy snowfall had covered the streets of ancient London, hiding the dirt and grime beneath a white nket. However, the gloomy, ever-present sky hinted at an impending snowstorm. Muggle street sweepers battled the snow with all their might, trying to clear a path on the old streets.

    Bryan , wearing an old dark green overcoat, stood in the empty yard, gazing intently at the unfinished building in front of him. Hisvender eyes seemed to possess extraordinary magical power.

    Interrupting his thoughts, a middle-aged woman with a worried expression called out to him from outside the iron gate. Her smile was warm and kind as she greeted Bryan.

    "Good morning, Mrs. Reagan."

    "Oh, you should have said hello, Bryan."

    After a quick hug, Mrs. Reagan reprimanded him yfully.

    "Sorry, I didn''t mean to rush, but something hase up that might keep me upied for the next few months. I came back temporarily to check on the progress," Bryan replied casually.

    Mrs. Reagan looked at Bryan with pride. He was the most promising child to have graduated from the orphanage in recent years, and her face radiated satisfaction.

    "Don''t worry, Bryan. Mr. Parker from the construction team said they will continue working after the Christmas holiday. The children will be able to move into their new home in just two months!"

    "Yes, that''s what they''ve been looking forward to," Bryan smiled. He opened the suitcase he was carrying, took out two stacks of pounds, and handed them to Mrs. Reagan.

    Gringotts did provide services for exchanging Muggle currency, but the exchange rate and limits were strict. Bryan preferred to convert his gold coins into gold bars and find a non-standard gold shop in London to exchange them for pounds, even if it incurred some extra cost. Dealing with the greedy goblins at Gringotts was not something he enjoyed.

    "This is the final payment for the project. Please pass it on to Mr. Parker for me," Bryan instructed Mrs. Reagan.

    She pursed her lips, knowing she had expressed her gratitude too many times already. She tucked the money into her oil-soaked apron, her voice filled with gratitude and anticipation.

    "Are you going to visit the children, Bryan? They really want to see you, especially Little Hammer. He''s beenining for days, saying you didn''t fulfill your promise to spend Christmas with them."

    "Apologize to him on my behalf, Mrs. Reagan. I''ll bring him a gift during the summer break."

    "Okay," Mrs. Reagan replied with disappointment. She didn''t push him further. She knew that if Bryan had the time, he wouldn''t refuse to visit the children. Clearly, he was dealing with something urgent.

    After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Mrs. Reagan hurried back to attend to the waiting children. Bryan lingered for a while before leaving the deste courtyard.

    Walking along the freshly cleared street with a steady pace, he headed east. The old buildings on either side, filled with countless childhood memories, didn''t slow him down.

    As he crossed a ten-foot-wide river, he stood on a dpidated arch bridge and gazed at the frozen water below. Then, he continued toward a barren wastnd dotted with sparse birch trees.

    In the middle of the wastnd stood a cemetery surrounded by crumbling fences.

    "Ventus"

    Bryan muttered the incantation under his breath, and several small tornadoes appeared out of nowhere within the deste cemetery. They swept away the tombstones and the umtion of ck and gray cobblestones, erasing the snow in silence.

    "Sorry, Grandma Ferena. I forgot to bring flowers."

    Approaching a white tombstone, Bryan bent down to wipe off the remaining ice water on the marble obelisk engraved with the epitaph. He then stood upright and gazed quietly at the old woman''s kind smile in the ck and white photo on the tombstone. Speaking softly, he apologized.

    Underneath the tombstoney the old woman who had taken care of him during his time at the orphanage. She was the only rtive Bryan had acknowledged since he arrived in this world as a baby.

    As if sensing his sorrow, an owl braving the biting cold wind perched on the nearest birch tree. It tilted its head and observed Bryan below, asionally using its sharp beak to groom its wind-blown wing feathers.

    "In the next few months, I''ll be returning to the ''juggling'' school. The school is in trouble, and some people hope I can find something while I''m there. Their wishes don''t align with mine¡ªAlbus Dumbledore, that white-bearded old man who always seemed to bump into me in the library at midnight, warning me about the dangers of staying upte. He wouldn''t approve of what I''m about to do, and I''m not thrilled about ying into his hands... But there''s no choice. They''ve given too much, and it''s worth half a year''s hard work.

    Besides, once the new dormitory ispleted, I hope to help the children with their education."

    A tinge of annoyance appeared on Bryan''s handsome face as he muttered to himself.

    "Unfortunately, if I could remember the plot, I might be able to finish the job quickly and walk away with the money."

    A slight remark revealed the deepest secret hidden within the heart of the young man standing in the deste cemetery.

    Bryan Watson was not a ''native'' of this world. His soul originated from the Earth devoid of supernatural powers.

    The stories of Harry Potter had been his favorite books in his previous life, but over 10 years had passed since he received his Hogwarts admission letter in this life. His memories had be hazy. Initially, when he received an owl-delivered letter in the cold orphanage room, he believed it was just a popr prank.

    It wasn''t until a greasy-haired man with a crooked nose turned his bed into a toilet with a flick of a wand that he realized this was no ordinary urban superpower script.

    He had attempted to recall the plot of Harry Potter with all his might but had only managed to retrieve fragments. Horcruxes, Hallows, Love and Scars, Voldemort and Resurrection¡ªthe snippets he had gathered were far from what he had learned after entering the wizarding world. No matter how hard he tried, the messages remained shrouded in a swirling gray mist, as if protected by unimaginable magic. After exhausting all his options, he was forced to give up.

    "Harry Potter is only in his second year, and there are still several years until his graduation. I don''t think I need to face the most dangerous situation just yet. After all, Dumbledore is there¡ªno, the dangeres from Dumbledore..."

    A sigh escaped Bryan''s lips, carried away by the biting cold wind. The wry smile on his face froze as he spoke.

    "In any world, survival is an extremely challenging task, isn''t it, Grandma Ferena?"

    Fine snowkes descended from the sky once more, and the owls perched atop the trees hooted more frequently. Bryan extended his hand toward the air, and the small parchment beneath the owl''s ws sliced through the air with a whistle. The gray snow, against the darkened sky, settled firmly into Bryan''s palm.

    "Mr. Watson,

    I have negotiated with the Hogwarts Board of Trustees, and they have approved our n. You need to arrive at Hogwarts before tonight''s deadline and present Dumbledore with your proposal on how to investigate the culprit.

    Furthermore, Lucius Malfoy vehemently rejected the idea of sending an investigator. He believes Albus Dumbledore should be dismissed outright. The Greengrass family is the only one seconding the proposal.

    Yours sincerely,

    Kakus Fawley"

    The hastily written note conveyed a sense of urgency. The gray owl, havingpleted its task but failed to receive its reward, let out a disgruntled caw. It pped its wings and swiftly vanished into the swirling snowkes.

    Bryan closed his palms, and Kakus''s note transformed into seeds, from which a bunch of pure white carnations blossomed in his hand.

    "Do you like the trick, Grandma Ferena?"

    The old woman''s smile on the gravestone seemed content.

    Bryan chuckled, then turned and walked into the wind and snow. After his departure, the cemetery remained empty, with only a low oath echoing through the sparse forest.

    "The train of fate, are you ready to journey into the unknown?"

    Author''s Note:

    ''Ventus'' is a spell in the Harry Potter universe that creates a strong whirlwind, small tornadoes or gust of wind. It ismonly used to sweep away objects or to create a powerful wind force.

    When casting Ventus, the caster typically points their wand in the direction they want the whirlwind to go and utters the incantation "Ventus." The strength and intensity of the whirlwind can vary depending on the skill and proficiency of the spellcaster.

    It''s worth noting that "Ventus" is not explicitly mentioned in the original Harry Potter books written by J.K. Rowling.

    /FicFrenzy

 005 Reunion at the School Gate

    005 Reunion at the School Gate

    Inherited for thousands of years, the ancient castle that has gone through the vicissitudes of history still exudes mysterious magic in the heavy snow. During the Christmas holiday, Hogwarts is much quieter than in the past.

    In the empty castle, apart from the murmurs of the figures hanging on both sides of the narrow corridor and the clinking sounds of the standing armor, only Peeves'' shrill singing pierced the tranquility of the castle from time to time.

    Severus Snape''s vigorous steps made his robe bulge into a waving cloak, and the whole person looked like a big bat with wings spread but running on its feet, and the expression on his face could be seen from the shady prey and pale lips that he was in a bad mood at the moment.

    "Sherbet lemon."

    After hearing the correct password, the ugly stone monster quickly jumped aside, even a little flustered, as if it was also afraid of something.

    Snape strode into the cracked wall, and the moment he walked into the circr office hidden behind the wall, his mood quietly became a little worse for no reason.

    Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of our time, was leaning on the back of his chair. Behind the half-moon-shaped mirror frame, his hard-to-reach azure blue gaze was cast on the high dome of the office. Piles of long-legged desks were waiting to be answered.

    "Where have you been?" Snape nced at Dumbledore''s purple traveling cloak, which was still on, and spoke bluntly.

    "Just going for a walk." Dumbledore withdrew his deep gaze and said with a gentle smile, "You know, Severus, for an elderly person like me, it is very helpful to maintain a moderate amount of exercise."

    "Indeed," Snape said with a hint of sarcasm, "how many days have you been walking around?"

    Snape''s reaction could be said to be expected, Dumbledore smiled nonchntly, "How is Miss Granger?"

    "It''s pretty stable. Pomfrey has dealt with her problem in the right way. She will return to normal after a few weeks of rest."

    Snape''s tone was blunt, but he finally answered the question truthfully. However, when he saw Dumbledore showing relief and about to expose the question, he couldn''t hold back his anger any longer.

    "I think you know exactly what those smart, pushy guys in Gryffindor have been doing¡ªsecretly brewing Polyjuice Potion and having the audacity to break into my office and steal the ingredients. Dumbledore, how has the school be so tolerant? Allowing the breaking of school rules and stealing a professor''s property?"

    "Despicable behavior is never tolerated," Snape''s reluctance seemed to make the exhausted Dumbledore feel tired. He took off the mirror frame on his nose and rubbed between his brows.

    "But we should look at people''s purpose through their behavior to judge whether their hearts are equally despicable. Severus, I don''t think Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger intended to investigate the truth of the incident with malicious intent."

    "So you n to let it go, even if he will be in danger because of his reckless behavior?"

    For some reason, Snape''s face turned pale under the mild firelight. Although he didn''t name the "he" in his words, Snape was sure that Dumbledore would understand.

    Suddenly, there was no sound in the office, only the slight snoring of previous principals in a row of murals hanging on the walls, and Fox''s subtle but crisp cry.

    "Not letting go, Severus, but watching," after a long silence, Dumbledore spoke again, but the silent confidence was gone from his tone. "It is true that sometimes the boundary between courage and recklessness is not so clear, but when dealing with young people, we should be more tolerant, Severus. We should avoid stifling their inherent advantages as much as possible."

    "Tolerate?" The corners of Snape''s mouth twitched. He was extremely reluctant but couldn''t restrain himself from recalling the past when he was studying in this school. "Don''t put gold on your face, Principal Dumbledore. You have always tolerated the students you admire."

    Snape hadpletely transferred his hatred of James Potter and Lily Evans to Harry. While protecting the son of the woman he loved, he had to endure that the child was so simr to his father, which made Snape''s emotions extremely distorted.

    "Let''s end this subject, Severus," privately, such conversations had happened countless times since Harry Potter entered this school, and even Dumbledore felt very helpless about it.

    "Could you trouble me to meet a guest at the school gate?" Dumbledore stood up. The clothes he was wearing couldn''t meet the guests. "Actually, Minerva was supposed to do this job . Unfortunately, she epted the invitation from the editorial team of ''Transfiguration Today'' to attend a reception about Transfiguration. This is a rare leisure for her. Try not to disturb."

    Snape was not interested in Dumbledore''s private appointment. He turned and strode away, his face worse than when he first entered the office because of the past memories throbbing in his mind.

    But by a strange coincidence, before leaving the office, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and looked back at Dumbledore, who was using his wand to clean the mud from the hem of his robe, with a suspicious voice.

    "Who did you meet?"

    "Ah¡ªactually, I originally nned to let you know about this surprise at the school gate, but since you asked," Dumbledore smiled, and the iprehensible light bloomed in his blue eyes again. "Bryan Watson, the student you admire the most these years."

    On May 12 at 7:31 pm, taking the express train, Bryan, who got off at Hogsmeade Station, waded through arge section of snow-covered trails and appeared outside the big iron gate of Hogwarts on time.

    Two wild boar sculptures with wings at the gate of the school have been guarding this great magic school for thousands of years. Bryan''s gaze passed through the iron gate fence with emotion, leaped over the yground with six tall clubs, and stood on the cliff. The gloomy castle on the shore, until it sank into the boundless Forbidden Forest.

    "I had guessed that it would be you, Professor, who came to greet me when I got on the train," Bryan said. The rusty door slowly opened with a creaking sound, and he stepped into the school gate, facing the ck figure striding forward. When Severus Snape''s expressionless face came into view, Bryan put down his suitcase and opened his arms with a sincere smile.

    Author''s Note: "Sherbet lemon" was not a password for Dumbledore''s office in the Harry Potter series. The password to ess Dumbledore''s office was "lemon drop". Dumbledore was fond of lemon drops and often offered them to visitors. So, it served as a clever and memorable password for his office.

 006 Conversation with Dumbledore

    006 Conversation with Dumbledore

    The extremely cold weather had frozen the enormous ckke into a solid piece of ice. In the dim light, the Forbidden Forest swayed in the bitter cold wind, resembling ake adorned with jagged lights.

    "Last Easter, I remember you writing to tell me about your exploration of the ruins of an ancient Greek wizard in Greece and mailing me five pints of dragon''s blood and forty ounces of dragon liver," Snape said as he and Bryan walked side by side toward the castle perched on the edge of the cliff. As they passed the three tall clubs on one side of the yground, Snape nced at the burning fire in Hagrid''s cabin, while Bryan looked around with deeper eyebrows and eyes than when he graduated three and a half years ago, Snape''s s voice held an inscrutable meaning as he continued, "But shortly after, the Daily Prophet revealed an interesting piece of information. The Norwegian Ministry of Magic stated that someone illegally broke into their Fire Dragon Nature Reserve, stole a precious Norwegian Ridgeback egg, and ended up killing it. Do you think there''s any connection between the two Bryan; Who ughtered a Norwegian red-scaled dragon in front of Muggles who had entered the reserve?"

    "What are your thoughts, my professor?"

    Bryan withdrew his gaze from the distance and looked at the only room in the tower illuminated by fire among a row of dark rooms. He smiled and said, "Or, what kind of response are you hoping to receive from me?"

    The corners of Snape''s mouth curled up in his habitual sneer, but as the words reached his lips, he suddenly realized that the young man beside him was no longer the same person who had been born into poverty and had preferred not to form deep connections with his ssmates at school. This student, who had been immersed in his own world, had rapidly grown into a wizard whom even he couldn''t fully understand.

    "It doesn''t matter to me, Bryan. I just wanted to remind you," Snape replied. With a sullen expression, he strode towards the castle.

    "I hope you know what you''re doing now, and I hope you understand that this school is not as peaceful as it seems on the surface¡ªespecially in recent years. Bryan, if your habit of keeping a low profile hasn''t changed, then I suggest you continue doing so, especially in front of Dumbledore. Furthermore, my advice is to leave here as soon as possible, and even depart from the British wizarding world entirely. Return when everything has settled... If your mind is still as sharp as it was back then, you should understand what I''m talking about."

    ........

    Perhaps tonight''s actions were too ordinary, as the stone guardian at the office door stepped aside, revealing a cryptic expression of dissatisfaction.

    "Thank you for your reminder, Professor."

    Snape made no move to enter, and Bryan smiled softly as he passed by, saying, "I''ve always known what I''m doing and I''m well aware of the risks involved."

    In the office, Dumbledore had taken the time to change into a clean and presentable wizard''s robe. He had evidently sensed the arrival of his visitor beforehand. As the wall closed behind Bryan and he stepped into the office, Dumbledore had already risen from his seat and stood behind the desk, smiling as he gazed at the door.

    "Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore!"

    Though he had mentally prepared himself for this encounter, Bryan Watson still felt a tingling sensation on his skin as the bright blue eyes, illuminated by the steady and vibrant fire, locked onto him. His heartbeat unconsciously quickened for a moment.

    Fawkes in the brazier heard a somewhat familiar voice, stretched out its neck from a pile of ashes, and curiously surveyed its surroundings.

    Thirty feet away stood the tall and slender figure of the old man, engulfed in mes, radiating not only an immense magical power but also a life experience that rivalled anyone''s¡ªa living history of modern European magic.

    In the presence of such an individual, it was hard to imagine how the previous Dark Lords had managed to survive for so long.

    "Wee, wee~" Dumbledore extended his hand with a smile, greeting Bryan as he strode forward. His piercing eyes swept across Bryan''s youthful face, lingering briefly on hisvender eyes, before shifting attention to his snow-streaked gray hair. "Good evening, Bryan. I apologize for having you travel in such inclement weather. As a token ofpensation, may I offer you something to drink?"

    "Thank you, that would be much appreciated."

    Guided by Dumbledore, Bryan took a seat while the Headmaster himself walked to the bookshelf on the side. He opened a cab with a Pensieve and retrieved a vintage bottle of wine from a hiddenpartment beneath it. "For the sake of my health, I had to relinquish most of my collection to Poppy. However, this bottle... Honestly, Bryan, I haven''t shared it with anyone else yet!"

    "Ogden''s Old Fire Whiskey, over 80 years old and priceless," Bryan remarked, savoring the aroma of the wine in the air. He smiled subtly and added, "Thank you for your generosity, Headmaster Dumbledore. Just based on this, I can confidently say that this trip was not in vain¡ª"

    Years had bestowed upon this precious spirit a touch of richness and mellowness. Bryan took a sip, patiently waiting for his stiff fingers to regain their dexterity.

    Dumbledore, in no hurry to proceed with their conversation, observed Bryan quietly with gentle eyes. Though he asked no questions, it seemed as though he had obtained the answers he sought, and the oue appeared to be quite satisfactory.

    "Severus has informed me that in the past two years, he has been following in the footsteps of great sages, exploring lost magical artifacts," Dumbledore remarked, his smile deepening as he noticed Bryan''s pale cheeks reddened by the cold. "I''m delighted that even after leaving this school, you haven''t forgotten to study magic and continue to better yourself. It reassures me that the educational principles I''ve upheld in this institution have not been aplete failure. At the very least, Hogwarts education still manages to make a few individuals realize that there are many other extraordinary ces in the wizarding world beyond the Ministry of Magic."

    Dumbledore made no mention of the school board appointment or any topics rted to the secret chamber, which surprised Bryan, who had already prepared speeches and ns for those matters.

    "When I was still a student here, young wizards didn''t immediately seek their own way after graduating. Instead, they embarked on graduation trips and explored the world. Prior to my own graduation, I had nned to travel with one of my old friends to Greece, seeking out magical creatures whose names have echoed through mythology, and then venture to Egypt to witness the experiments of the alchemists... Unfortunately, certain incidents disrupted my ns, nearly leading to a lifelong regret."

    Dumbledore''s eyes zed over with nostalgia as he spoke, reflecting on the past. "Perhaps the choices I made had something to do with my Muggle heritage," he added.

    Bryan set down his wine ss and, though he wore an approving smile, confusion churned within him. He had contemted the conversation between him and Dumbledore countless times prior to this meeting. In his mind''s anticipation, he imagined the unpredictable old man behind the desk delving into years of experience and refusing to be deceived by mere words.

    Perhaps, like Professor Snape, he was curious about Bryan''s true intentions for returning to the school.

    Maybe he wished to discuss the locked room attack and question the proposed preventive measures.

    But now it seemed that Dumbledore''s interestsy elsewhere, as he simply wanted to engage in a casual conversation.

    Was that even possible?

    Bryan couldn''t believe that Dumbledore was so na?ve, and he remained vignt within himself. Nevertheless, he showed great interest in the current topic, feigning curiosity. "Children from wizarding families often take the wonders of magic for granted. But those of us who grew up in the Muggle world better understand how truly remarkable it is to witness miracles unfold when we wield a wand. Compared to that, power and wealth seem insignificant."

    "Don''t be too modest, Bryan. There are many children from Muggle families, but not all possess your ability to marvel at and relentlessly pursue knowledge," Dumbledore countered, finding Bryan''s exnation to his liking. The deep eyes behind the half-moon spectacles revealed relief. "What''s more important is that, despite your many experiences, you still describe magic as ''miracles unfolding'' rather than simply ''power''¡ª"

    Dumbledore paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "When you were a student here, Professor Snape often expressed his concerns to me about your studies on dark magic. That resulted in the two of us banning certain books in the library and having several ''chance encounters'' in the Restricted Section."

    Coughing, Bryan, who had been sipping his wine, found himself momentarily choked. He wiped his scarlet lips, his expression resembling the embarrassment of a child caught in their parents'' scrutiny of some past indiscretion. "It''s rare for someone as busy as you, Headmaster Dumbledore, to remember such trivial matters. I''ve never been fascinated by the raw power of dark magic. I merely believe that whether it''s ck or white magic, they are both facets of the same whole¡ªmagic. They are parts worth studying, learning from, and blind exclusion will only serve to highlight our own ignorance."

    "Indeed, indeed, a truly philosophical perspective," Dumbledore affirmed with a nod, his expression turning serious. "However, not everyone possesses the self-awareness and control that you possess, Bryan. That is why Professor Snape had genuine concerns for you back then."

    [To be continued...]

 007 Midnight Revelations

    007 Midnight Revtions

    After hastily concluding the meeting, Bryan left Dumbledore''s office well past eleven o''clock in the middle of the night. His cheeks were slightly stiff from a prolonged smile, as if the echoes of Dumbledore''sughter lingered even though the Headmaster was no longer in sight.

    It seemed almost surreal to Bryan that he had spent over three hours chatting with Dumbledore, yet he still couldn''t grasp the purpose behind the Headmaster''s summons. Reflecting on their conversation, Bryan realized that Dumbledore hadn''t given him an opportunity to present any ns. Instead, their discussion had meandered through various topics, reminiscent of old friends catching up over drinks.

    The only tangible oue was a small half-bottle of whiskey that Dumbledore had generously bestowed upon him. It struck Bryan as unreasonable, as Dumbledore''s disy of trust seemed incongruous with his typically cautious nature.

    The corridor was empty, with portraits of slumbering figures adorning the walls, undisturbed by the flickering torches. During the Christmas holiday, even Filch, the dedicated castle administrator, had left to visit old friends.

    The cold wind seeping into the castle through the window gaps still bit at Bryan, but the snow had ceased, allowing the struggling moon to cast feeble light through the thick clouds.

    Standing by a window at the corner of the stairs, Bryan gazed into the distance with intrigue. On this starless night, the Forbidden Forest loomed in darkness, obscuring any clear view, and the faint glow emanating from Hagrid''s cabin was barely discernible¡ªa solitary light in the epassing darkness.

    "I''m d you emerged from Dumbledore''s office unscathed, Bryan. I had even started contemting your funeral," Snape''s voice sneered, interrupting Bryan''s contemtion.

    Snape, now donning purple pajamas, leaned against the wall, his gaze fixated on the whiskey bottle in Bryan''s hand. "Could it be that Dumbledore''s skills in insanity have regressed to the point where he needs Veritaserum to extract confessions about your crimes over the past few years?"

    "Your sharp tongue remains unchanged, Professor," Bryan turned to face Snape in the shadows, a smile ying on his lips. "Headmaster Dumbledore didn''t employ Veritaserum on me, but it seems he has gleaned what he wanted to know."

    ...¡­

    Moonlight pierced through the clouds, creating rectangr patches of light on the floor of the school hospital ward. It was well past midnight, and Madam Pomfrey had retired to her small room, leaving the ward devoid of activity.

    "Lumos"

    Hermione whispered to herself, "The hair on my face is supposed to fade in a few weeks, but I''d rather find a way to shorten that time. Otherwise, how do I exin the sudden appearance of a beard to those who visit me, especially those with divination skills?"

    Recollecting her task, Hermione gingerly opened her eyes, careful not to disturb the slumbering ward. Retrieving a copy of "Common Magical Ailments" from under her pillow, she began perusing its pages, a task she had entrusted to Harry in their joint effort to find a solution.

    Hermione''s feline instincts took over as she sprawled across the bed, her white palms instinctively curling into paws against the book''s pages. A slender cat tail slipped out from under the covers, hanging on the bed''s edge, as she immersed herself in her research.

    Suddenly, the sound of footsteps outside the ward caught Hermione''s attention. In a moment, she ruled out the possibility of it being Harry or Ron visiting her, or even Madam Pomfrey on her rounds. A sense of rm gripped Hermione as she realized it might be the assant responsible for the attacks in the Chamber of Secrets.

    In a flurry of motion, Hermione extinguished her wand''s light, positioned herself back on the bed, and tightly gripped her wand beneath the quilt.

    "Very few things urring in this school can elude Headmaster Dumbledore''s knowledge, Professor. Are you absolutely certain he is unaware?" Hermione recognized Snape''s voice¡ªa sinister, deep tone that had always been particrly disdainful of Gryffindor students.

    "Headmaster Dumbledore may be used of many things, but he will not tolerate any conspiracy that endangers the students here," came the reply, tinged with an air of annoyance.

    Hermione, with her remarkable memory, knew she had never heard this voice before. However, at least from the conversation, she concluded that the speaker was not the heir of Slytherin.

    After a brief hesitation, Hermione cautiously peeked her head out from under the quilt. Thanks to her padded feet, she managed to move silently toward the door.

    At Snape''s signal, Bryan drew back the curtain and approached swiftly. Standing between two adjacent hospital beds, he focused his gaze on the unfortunate victims¡ªColin Creevey and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

    "The grey-haired one is Colin Creevey, and the other is Justin Finch-Fletchley. Both from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, respectively, and both Muggle-born. You possess a sensitivity to magic. Bryan, tell me your observations," Bryan stood between the beds, leaning over with a concentrated expression. Twovender vortexes seemed to swirl within his eyes as he examined Colin, who reached out his hand to take a picture, and then shifted his attention to the terrified Justin. Bryan would asionally tap their petrified skin with his fingers, the distinct tapping sound reverberating through the quiet infirmary.

    "What did Dumbledore say?" Bryan sat on the bed, his gaze locked onto Colin''s eyes as he casually inquired, "He believes it to be highly advanced dark magic, beyond the abilities of young wizards. Additionally, he confided in Minerva that hecks the means to directly reverse the powerful petrification spell," Snape replied.

    "I have my reservations about thetter," Bryan pursed his lips and then pointed to Colin''s eyes. "It''s not ck magic, but rather a curse¡ªa manifestation of abnormal magical power that freezes the flow of magic within their bodies, resulting in petrification."

    "Minerva, Flitwick, and Sprout have all hinted at something simr," Snape grumbled, appearing annoyed. "I have indeed noticed the eagerness of those children in the courtyard to showcase their abilities. Unlike you, they prefer not to conceal their strengths. Unfortunately, theyck the necessary skills."

    "That bottle of aged Fire-whiskey in the Headmaster''s collection is quite remarkable," Bryan stood up, attempting to steady himself, but his head spun, nearly causing him to stumble. He grasped the bedpost, rubbing his temples, as various thoughts raced through his mind. Snape''s crypticint triggered a recollection of his former self, ever vignt against all potential threats. Bryan smiled and remarked, "Professor, you seem to be heading in the wrong direction. As I mentioned, their petrification is the result of abnormal magical powers. It suggests that this magic is less likely to originate from wizards, and more akin to... For instance, the magical energy flowing through the blood and nerves of a dragon. It is vastly different from the style of wizardry."

    Behind the hidden door, Hermione''s yellow eyes widened with excitement, her paws clenched in anticipation.

    Bryan nced toward the adjacent ward with a bemused expression. In his vision, the magical aura emitted by the young wizard concealed behind the door was as conspicuous as the moon rising in the darkness.

    "So, the rumors about Szar Slytherin leaving a monster in the Chamber of Secrets might not be mere fantasies," Snape''s voice once again turned somber. The founder of Slytherin, hailed as one of the four greatest wizards, had always been a source of pride for the academy''s graduates. Yet, at this moment, Snape felt more vexed than reverent toward him.

    "Considering the current circumstances, it appears to be the most usible possibility," Bryan reflected, amused by the notion that the underground dark wizards coveting Slytherin''s secret treasure likely never anticipated that the great secret left behind would be nothing more than a magical creature.

    However, his task was to locate and recover the items within the Chamber of Secrets and deliver them to KaKus Foley. As for what remained within the chamber, it held no relevance for him.

    Realizing that he currentlycked the means to immediately reverse the curse, Bryan could not glean any further information from the petrified Colin and Justin. He gently drew the veil back over them, his tone indifferent.

    "Actually, what intrigues me more is why the assant refrained from killing them directly after petrifying them. Could it be that their motive lies in the pleasure derived from instilling fear? Such behavior is characteristic of aberrant entities¡ª"

    "Not only you and I are curious about this question, but I suspect Miss Hermione Granger is quite intrigued as well!"

    Ouch!

    Bryan and Snape were preparing to leave when, suddenly, Snape brandished his wand and swung it toward Hermione''s ward. Hermione, who was hiding behind the door, emitted an involuntary shriek, stumbling and rolling out into the open. After a couple of tumbles, she ended up lying at Bryan''s feet.

    "Oh my, oh my," Bryan murmured, his voice barely audible amidst the profound silence. He gazed mockingly at Snape for a moment, then lowered his head to observe the young wizard lying before him. "When did cat-eared girls be a part of the magical world?!"

 008 Discussion

    008 Discussion

    The moment Hermione fell on the icy floor of the school hospital, her mind was in chaos, and she struggled to find a way to exin why she had eavesdropped on a private conversation. However, she quickly noticed a ring problem¡ªhow had Snape recognized her even before the door opened?

    She wondered if the girl with cat ears was describing herself. Hermione desperately wished she had Harry''s invisibility cloak to hide from the suffocating situation. Lost in her frantic thoughts, a strong and steady hand reached out, helping her up. Trembling, Hermione raised her head and saw that it was the young wizard who had been talking to Professor Snape.

    "Thank you, Professor."

    "Oh, don''t misunderstand, Miss Granger. I''m not a professor at this school," Bryan said with a gentle smile. He looked with interest at the drooping ears on Hermione''s tousled hair and the beard of ck hair covering her cheeks. It didn''t take him long to realize that this peculiar appearance was likely the result of Animal Transfiguration using Polyjuice Potion.

    Impressive, indeed. Hermione''s reputation as the intellectual cornerstone of the protagonist group held true. Bryan may not recall the exact events from the Harry Potter books, but he was familiar with the key characters.

    Snape''s earlier taunt had revealed Hermione''s true identity as the highly popr and astute Hermione Granger. This piqued Bryan''s curiosity.

    "Miss Granger," Snape''s voice, tinged with sarcasm, grew gloomy in thete-night ambiance of the school hospital, "Even I have to admit that your current appearance is far more interesting than usual. However, I would still like to know why you chose this form and what gave you the courage to eavesdrop on my conversation, with Minerva''s help."

    Noticing Bryan''s surprised expression, Snape red at him before shifting his gaze back to Hermione. His dark eyes bore into her, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation.

    "Answer my question, Miss Granger, or would you prefer Minerva to exin it for you?"

    Hermione''s body trembled at Snape''s words. The situation was already dire, and if Professor McGonagall found out, Hermione couldn''t face the Gryffindor Head of House.

    "The way I look... it''s because I overestimated my Transfiguration skills, Professor Snape," Hermione lowered her head, her voice quivering with tears. She was grateful for the ck hair concealing her flushed cheeks, knowing that any w would expose her lies.

    "I was studying ''Advanced Transfiguration'' in advance, hoping to perform the spell described in the Transfiguration book. I apologize for eavesdropping on your conversation, Professor, I mean, sir," Hermione stumbled through her exnation.

    "I was reading a book in bed, researching ways to heal my magical injuries faster. But themotion outside caught my attention. I thought it might be rted to the Chamber of Secrets. You know, the attacks had all Muggle-born wizards on edge."

    Bryan noticed Snape''s livid expression and his increasingly heavy breathing. If Hermione continued making up stories, tragedy would likely befall the school hospital.

    "No need to exin, Miss Granger," Bryan spoke up. In the underground world, the Golden Viper was a cold, sharp, and murderous wizard who straddled the line between ck and white. But the Bryan Watson now standing before Hermione was friendly and gentle. It was hard to discern which side was his true nature and which was a facade. Perhaps this was the real Bryan Watson.

    Hermione, desperately attempting to make her words believable, raised her head in a daze. She

    saw a pair of beautiful purple eyes and a gentle smile on the young and handsome face. She felt a momentary resemnce to Headmaster Dumbledore''s kind and wise demeanor.

    "Apologies, sir, all I said was..."

    "My name is Bryan Watson, and you may call me Mr. Watson," Bryan interrupted Hermione once again, his smile radiating happiness.

    "Regardless of how you ended up like this, Miss Granger, it appears you''ve learned a painful lesson. Professor Snape will not punish you further, will he?" Bryan looked towards Snape, who responded with a contemptuous snort.

    "As for eavesdropping on our conversation, it is not a serious offense for a thirteen or fourteen-year-old wizard fueled by curiosity. Professor Snape and I have decided not to pursue it. There''s no need to worry too much."

    Although Bryan couldn''t match Snape''s level of prestige umted over the years, he chose to overlook the eavesdropping incident. Hermione, however, still couldn''t rx and looked at Snape, fearing her Potions professor might disagree.

    Whether it was Bryan''s plea or Dumbledore''s instruction, Snape turned around and left without a word. This spared Gryffindor House from a grim fate during the Christmas holiday.

    "Until next time, Miss Granger," Bryan said with a smile before turning to leave as well.

    Hermione, who hadn''t fully processed the disaster that had just urred, regained herposure and realized that the mysterious man called Bryan was about to leave the school hospital.

    "Just a moment, sir, I mean, Mr. Watson!" Hermione instinctively called out. It was only when Bryan turned back that she realized her mistake.

    "Mr. Watson, are you a healer?" Hermione''s face flushed. She didn''t know why she had stopped Bryan, but in that crucial moment, her quick thinking saved her once again.

    "I overheard your conversation with Professor Snape about Colin and Justin''s illness. Do you have the ability to cure them?"

    "I''m sorry, Miss Granger, but I don''t possess that ability," Bryan calmly shook his head.

    "Since Headmaster Dumbledore already has a solution, there''s no need to rush. Resting in the hospital bed also serves as a form of protection for them," Bryan exined before turning to leave.

    "Oh, by the way, Miss Granger, I am an investigator."

    [Scene Break]

    That night, Bryan spent the night in Snape''s staff dormitory, and the two talked by candlelight. He consulted Snape in detail about the attacks and the process by which the victims were discovered. Bryan wasn''t surprised to learn that both Filch''s cat, Mrs. Norris, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, the first witness after being attacked, had mentioned Harry Potter. The protagonist, even if he stays at home and does not go out, trouble wille to him automatically.

    However, what surprised Bryan was the malice on Snape''s face when hemented on Harry Potter.

    "You can see what kind of person he is from Hermione Granger - full of lies, mediocre, arrogant, loves to vite discipline, likes to show off, attract people''s attention, and is disrespectful!"

    A few feet away, Bryan, who was writing and drawing on the desk, raised his head in surprise.

    "It''s quite peculiar, Professor. It seems there are fewer wizards who earn your praise than those who don''t. I''m starting to be a little curious about that boy."

    "You''ll know when you see him, Bryan," Snape replied, half-lying on the bed, his gaze fixed on the burgeoning mes in the firece. His voice dripped with coldness. "The pretentiousness and belief that he can handle everything are just like his father!"

    "What--"

    Bryan flipped through the dpidated "Simplified Theory of Ancient Spells" written by Ulrich Gump and continued to write calctions on the parchment, asionally waving his wand, causing ripples in the air as he tried to construct an effective spell model.

    In the past two years or so, most of Bryan''s time had been spent on the road, traveling and wandering. Research and self-improvement had to be squeezed into whatever time he could find.

    "Understood. So it''s a grudge from the previous generation," Bryan said, realizing that Potter''s father must have had a history with Snape. He decided not to press further, understanding that everyone has a past they don''t want to be touched. Opening old wounds that have just begun to heal serves no purpose.

    Bryan focused his attention back on his research, realizing that there was still much to be done to uncover the truth behind the attacks at Hogwarts. He had a feeling that his encounter with Harry Potter would reveal a significant piece of the puzzle.

 009 Tracing

    009 Tracing

    The gloom of many days finally dissipated on the first day of the New Year. The rising sun sprinkled on the white yground, and the reflected light covered Hogwarts Castle with ayer of light golden tulle.

    After preparing the necessary recovery potions for Hermione early, Madam Pomfrey went downstairs to have breakfast in the auditorium. In the school hospital, only Harry and Ron apanied the dejected Hermione, and after listening to Hermione''s narration of the encounter the previous night, the expressions on their faces were not very happy.

    "Professor Snape must know!"

    Hermione covered her furry face with her hands in a depressed tone.

    "Professor Snape called out my name before the door opened. It shouldn''t be. No one knows about my condition except Madam Pomfrey. Professor Snape is a master of potions. He must know how to use Polyjuice Potion as a medicine. What would be the consequences of animal transformation? This also means that he knows that I stole the materials from his storage room."

    Harry stared at the tall hoops on the Quidditch pitch in a daze. Today, he and Ron had nned to go to the pitch to y Quidditch after visiting Hermione, but now it seemed that this n would undoubtedly be canceled.

    Moreover, since the Christmas holidays, the good mood brought about by the fact that no one in the castle secretly talked about his Parseltongue or used him of being the heir of Slytherin was rapidly fading away. Now, Hermione was telling him about a young wizard named Bryan Watson.

    "Bryan Watson, who ims to be an investigator."

    Harry asked worriedly, "Hermione, what do you think Bryan is investigating in Hogwarts?"

    "It doesn''t matter, Harry. What else is there to investigate in the school now?"

    Harry and Ron didn''t seem to worry about getting expelled for this at all, which made the already irritable Hermione even more frustrated.

    Harry felt a chill in his stomach, despite the warmth brought by the white rice porridge he had that morning. He had never heard the name Bryan Watson before, and besides Mr. Weasley, he had never fought against any wizard with an official title. However, this did not prevent the heavy pressure on his heart upon hearing the term "investigator."

    Because of his Parseltongue ability, he was already under suspicion among the other students. If everyone found out that an investigator hade to the school in the second half of the semester, how much criticism would he have to endure? Harry could already imagine the smug look on Malfoy''s repulsive face, and perhaps he would be the first to report him to the Inquisitor.

    "Why would the Ministry of Magic suddenly send an investigator to the school... I mean, there''s Headmaster Dumbledore in the school, and he never mentioned it to me."

    Mentioning this, Harry suddenly remembered the night Justin was attacked. He had a conversation with Headmaster Dumbledore in his office, and at that time, due to various reasons, especially the fear that Dumbledore would mistake him for having some kind of connection with the founder of Slytherin House, he didn''t confess to Dobby''s warnings and the horrific voices that preceded each attack.

    Could it be that Headmaster Dumbledore was dissatisfied with his concealment, so he agreed to let the Ministry of Magic take over?

    Would the Ministry of Magic save trouble and follow the rumors in the school, putting him directly in the wizarding prison that Malfoy mentioned?

    "Without a doubt, Harry, Snape must be behind this!"

    Ron, holding half a potato pie in his hand, raised his freckled nose and swore firmly.

    "Think about it, Harry, this Bryan has a close rtionship with Snape, maybe he even graduated from Slytherin House."

    Ron started chewing his potato cakes again and analyzed in a serious manner.

    "Who wants to get you kicked out of this school the most? It''s Snape, and I bet you, Harry, that the investigator was brought in by Snape to do it..."

    "Thank you, Ron. Your analysis makes me feel much better."

    Harry sat listlessly on the edge of the bed and said in a dejected tone.

    "Stop the nonsense, Ron."

    No matter what the reason was, since Snape didn''t expose her directlyst night, it seemed to mean that he would not be expelled from the school for stealing the professor''s supplies. Hermione, who realized this, was a little less anxious. She folded her arms across her chest and stared menacingly at Ron.

    "Even the Minister of Magic doesn''t have the right to expel a Hogwarts student at will, unless Headmaster Dumbledore agrees. But Harry, Headmaster Dumbledore won''t fire you, will he?"

    If it was before that conversation, Harry might have been able to give an affirmative answer. He always felt that the old man with silver beard and hair treated him a little differently from other students, even though they had very few direct conversations.

    "Maybe, Hermione," Harry hesitated to answer, "At least Dumbledore told Hagrid that he didn''t think I attacked Colin and the others, and he couldn''t agree to fire me just because I hid something from him."

    Just as Harry was contemting his worries, Ron, who had been refuted by Hermione, murmured in a low voice and expressed his viewpoint. Suddenly, he frowned and looked up at the pure white ceiling, as if trying to recall something.

    "Bryan Watson... This name, I feel like I''ve heard it somewhere."

    The low whisper instantly caught Harry''s attention.

    "Ron, since this Bryan ims to be an investigator, he must be Mr. Weasley''s colleague or something. Maybe they have a good rtionship. Maybe... you can write a letter to me and ask. I mean, exin in advance before he finds me..."

    The Weasley family, especially Mr. Weasley, was Harry''s favorite wizard family, and they had always been kind to him. The week he spent with the Weasleysst year was the most wonderful summer vacation he had in many years. If Mr. Weasley knew Bryan Watson, he wouldn''t hesitate to help him defend himself.

    The golden sunshine gradually climbed up the clubs on the yground, and the breeze on the spacious grass carried a hint of spring.

    "Of course, there''s no problem, Harry. I can write..."

    Ron replied hesitantly, still trying to remember where exactly he had heard the name.

    "Fred and George might have heard of him. But as for Prefect Percy... oh, we better not ask him. For the sake of his career, he might be more eager to betray us than Malfoy!"

    "That''s your brother, Ron."

    Hermione threw back the covers, sat on the edge of the bed, and put on her boots.

    "You shouldn''t say that about him."

    Among the trio, Hermione had the highest opinion of Ron''s brother, Percy Weasley. In private, she had asked Percy many difficult questions, and Percy had indeed helped Hermione solve many problems with his extensive knowledge.

    "Before he became a prefect and was determined to be the chairman of the Boys'' Student Union, we were close brothers, but it''s hard to say now."

    Ron''s ears turned red, and he said angrily, "I''ll never forget the five points he deducted from me in front of the Myrtle bathroom!"

    "Percy is a prefect, and enforcing discipline is part of his duties, Ron."

    Although she was present when Percy deducted points from Ron, she didn''t see anything wrong with Percy''s behavior.

    Hermione stood up, stomped her boots, and then turned up the cor of her wizard robe to hide the ck hair on her cheeks as much as possible.

    "Get your invisibility cloak, Harry. Do you want me to walk out of the hospital wing in this state?"

    "Oh, are we going out?"

    Harry, who had been lost in thought, was surprised toe back to his senses.

    "Are you going to y Quidditch with us, Hermione?"

    "When are you ever going to let go of Quidditch, Harry?"

    Hermione looked defeated.

    "Of course we''re going to investigate this Mr. Watson. We need to find out his background first, don''t we?"

 010 The Past

    010 The Past

    "Thanks to the magical invisibility cloak left to me by Harry''s father," Hermione said, slipping out of the castle without any hindrance. As she passed by the Great Hall, she nced at the staff dining table where Ms. Pomfrey was having a hot chat with the Hogwarts librarian, Mrs. Pince. Hermione urged in a low voice, "Hurry up, Harry, Ron. Madam Pomfrey will be back at the school hospital before ten o''clock. I don''t want her to find out that I am not lying quietly on the hospital bed!"

    "Actually, you don''t have to go there yourself, Hermione. We''ll tell you everything we hear from Hagrid," Ron said, picking up his pace and looking at the air in front of him, pretending to be nonchnt. Harry nodded in approval.

    "Stop being silly, you two," Hermione scolded.

    The moment she stepped out of the castle gate, the sudden bright light and the breeze on her face made Hermione feel much better. Her orange cat eyes shone with excitement.

    "Before we leave Hagrid''s cabin, I''m afraid you''ll forget all about what Hagrid said!"

    It had been a while since Halloween, as therge patch of pumpkin vines behind the house had been cleared up and covered with snow. Hagrid''s cabin looked much neater than usual. When Harry and the others arrived, Hagrid was chopping the Christmas tree used to decorate the auditorium for Christmas into firewood.

    This may be physical work for others, but for Hagrid, who was about ten feet tall and had a waist five times the size of an ordinary person, it was the easiest thing to do. He only needed to lift the ax and then gently put it down, and the Christmas trees, as thick as the mouth of a bowl, would be broken into several pieces.

    The ck hound, which was having fun in the snow, spotted Harry first. It stood on a raised snow slope and howled happily at them.

    "Don''t bark, Fang, you just ate a whole chicken."

    As he looked in the direction where Fang was barking, a smile appeared on Hagrid''s face covered by his furry beard. "Hey, Harry, Ron, it''s you two!"

    Hagrid happily waved his arms to greet Harry, who was struggling in the two feet of snow. "This is really wrong, Harry. You always like toe to me in the middle of the night wearing the Invisibility Cloak!"

    "That''s because I need lessons during the day, Hagrid!"

    Whoops!

    Harry, who was supporting Hermione under the Invisibility Cloak, identally stepped on thin air and fell to the ground. Hermione, who was identally involved, screamed and rolled into a ball with him.

    "Don''t just watch the excitement, Hagrid. Come and help us!"

    "Oh my God!"

    Hermione, who suddenly appeared next to Harry and Ron, made Hagrid freeze in his tracks.

    "You brought me a cat man?!" Hagrid eximed in surprise.

    After a while, Hagrid in front of the house eximed in surprise.

    Hagrid''s room was still as messy as ever. In the narrow wooden room, hams and pheasants were hung from the ceiling, and a copper kettle was used to boil water in the brazier. The rag patchwork bedding on the big bed in the corner was dark in color, with no other changes.

    "Please, Hagrid, don''t ask me why I am the way I am," Hermione, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, looked up and noticed the strong curiosity in Hagrid''s eyes. She immediately said angrily, "That was a nightmare. I don''t want to bring it up again!"

    Ronughed heartlessly, and even the corners of Harry''s mouth raised in concern.

    "Alright, alright," Hagrid shrugged regretfully. "I just want to know if it is possible to breed a species of ''cat people'' through experiments. Since you don''t want to share it, don''t show your teeth, Fang. That''s Hermione, not a cat. You should be able to smell Hermione."

    He took out a few cups, threw some ck tea powder into them, and prepared to make a cup of hot tea for the three of them. But the water on the stove still needed a while to boil, so Hagrid enthusiastically prepared some homemade dim sum.

    "You don''t look very happy, Harry. Would you like some taffy?"

    "Thanks, Hagrid. I don''t have much appetite," Harry declined politely. He exchanged nces with Ron and Hermione, and after a silent exchange, Harry asked, "Actually, Hagrid, we''re here today to ask you about someone we think you''ve heard of."

    Hagrid, who was fiddling with the coals with his fingers, chuckled. He looked at Harry through the handle of the copper pot and said in a teasing tone, "What do you three want to know, Harry? Let me remind you first, there is no Sorcerer''s Stone hidden in the castle this year!"

    <em>''Yes, it is true that there is no Philosopher''s Stone, but there are more secret rooms!''</em>

    Harry cursed in his heart, and his mood didn''t improve much because of Hagrid''s joke.

    "Bryan Watson, Hagrid. Have you heard of this man?" Hermione asked directly, as her time was limited.

    "Bryan Watson?" Hagrid blinked in surprise. "Why do you mention him?"

    "So you do know him?" Hermione asked eagerly. "Tell us, Hagrid, what do you know?"

    Hagrid didn''t answer the question immediately; instead, he looked at Ron suspiciously.

    "You don''t have any recollection of Bryan Watson either, Ron?"

    "I must have heard the name somewhere, but it doesn''t seem like I heard it from Dad. Hagrid, why do you think I know him?"

    Ron furrowed his brow, desperately trying to remember.

    "You must have heard, Ron," Hagridughed. He took the hot kettle off the stove and made a cup of tea for all three of them. "He is a Slytherin student, in the same ss as your brother Bill, and he graduated over three years ago. Well, anyway, I haven''t heard much about him in the past few years. But it''s not surprising. He was very introverted when he was in school and didn''t like to draw attention to himself."

    "So perhaps Bill mentioned him to me?" Ron still couldn''t retrieve that lost memory.

    "Introverted?" Hermione''s tone also reflected confusion. She tried her best to recall the details of the brief encounter from the previous night. If she were toment, Mr. Watson was a little too friendly, and he didn''t seem like a person from Slytherin at all. But if you called him introverted, it wasn''t easy to see.

    "Well, you can''t really call him introverted. Let''s just say he doesn''t like to interact with people. At least, that''s how it was back then," Hagrid exined, as there were now three more people in the room, and he had to stand and talk.

    "I hardly interacted with him, and the information I know is just hearsay. It''s said that Bryan Watson was an orphan and spent his childhood in an orphanage. You know, in Slytherin House, children born from orphans are unlikely to be weed. So, when he first stepped into Hogwarts, he received a lot of stares. If it weren''t for Professor Snape''s protection, his situation might have been even more difficult."

    Hagrid didn''t have many memories of Bryan Watson in his mind, so he spoke slowly. But no one in the room urged him on, and even Ron gave up on trying to remember, staring intently at Hagrid.

    "I''ve heard from the professors that Watson was a very diligent young wizard. He was polite when asking questions, and his grades were excellent. Of course, they couldn''tpare to Bill, Percy, or you at that time," Hagrid said, looking at Hermione.

    "But you just couldn''t get close to him. It was as if he was trying to keep his distance from everyone. Considering he was a Muggle-born orphan, it''s easy for the professors to understand why he appeared withdrawn."

    "He sounds like a pretty ordinary person," Ron frowned.

    "And he belongs to Slytherin. So why did I hear his name from Bill or maybe Charlie?"

    "That brings us to the duel that happened in the Forbidden Forest when Watson was in fifth year!" Hagrid eximed, drinking from his washbasin-sized water tank in one gulp. His copper-bell-like eyes shone with shock. "Although it has been several years since that duel, when I think about it now, I still can''t believe it!"

    Author''s Note:

    In the Second book/movie, Hermione and her friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are trying to uncover the identity of Slytherin''s Heir, who is believed to be responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets. They suspect Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin student, so Hermione concocts Polyjuice Potion to transform themselves into Slytherins and interrogate him.

    However, Hermione''s usage of Polyjuice Potion doesn''t go exactly as nned. She identally adds a cat hair to the potion instead of the intended human hair. As a result, when she drinks the potion, she partially transforms into a cat-human hybrid, with cat-like features and characteristics. She grows a furry face, whiskers, and a tail.This transformation causes Hermione great difort and limits her ability tomunicate effectively. Later in the story, Madam Pomfrey, provides an antidote to reverse the effects of the Polyjuice Potion, restoring Hermione back to her original form.

 011 The Hidden Edge

    011 The Hidden Edge

    In the evaluations of Snape and Hagrid, Bryan Watson was seen as a low-key and withdrawn person, and even he himself did not deny that this was an appropriate evaluation.

    However, this was not because Bryan himself was a wizard who rejected people from thousands of miles away.

    You see, Bryan is an ''outsider.'' Beforeing to Hogwarts, he always thought that he had crossed over to a parallel world called Earth.

    In the previous 11 years of his life, he spent a lot of time adapting to a country withpletely different living habits and cultural customs from his previous life. He expended a lot of energy to pick up the knowledge he had mastered in his student days to actively prepare for the future.

    However, the admission notice from Hogwarts disrupted all his ns, rendering his previous efforts almost in vain.

    Why did he behave so out of tune with the surrounding environment in the first few years after entering Hogwarts? This problem is easy to exin.

    First of all, the existence of magic directly overturned the worldview and values that Bryan had gathered for nearly 30 years. In those years, he was in a state of confusion. On one hand, he had to admit that magic really existed and worked hard to learn magical knowledge. On the other hand, he always wanted to use a ''scientific way'' to exin the rationality of the existence of magic, which created a split personality within him.

    Secondly, the usible plot memories left in his mind also caused him pain.

    Bryan knows that he is in an extremely real magical world, not in a juvenile book. Here, there are dangerous and vicious magical creatures, evil curses that cannot be guarded against, cruel and bloody dark wizards, and unscrupulous methods. There are conspiratorial schemers, base and shameless hypocrites.

    Although Bryan remembered some names, he could no longer recall the plots derived from the characters in the story. Therefore, he couldn''t directly judge whether they were ''good guys'' or not.

    Especially when he entered the Wizarding world, he realized his own weakness and powerlessness, and being vignt towards anyone became his way to ensure his own safety.

    To Bryan, the indifference and istion of the Slytherin students were of little significance to him.

    After all, his young body contained a mature soul.

    Severus Snape was the only wizard he recognized in this school back then. The reason for this was inseparable from Bryan''s embarrassing background.

    At that time, Bryan was poor, and the small stipend from the school could not support his advanced learning progress, except to ensure that he could afford second-hand books and teaching aids.

    To improve his financial situation, Bryan had to find a way to make some money himself. Since the second year, he began brewing potions privately for sale.

    Initially, he could only use the cheap raw materials in the student storage cab to brew some simple potions, earning a meager profit over time.

    It wasn''t until the second term of the third year hat he received a big order worth 80 Galleons for brewing a longsting invisibility potion.

    To be safe, he used the Disillusionment Charm many times to sneak into the restricted area in the middle of the night to search for information and asked Snape about the key to brewing this potion.

    Bryan couldn''t be careless about this. The person who bought the potion didn''t provide the raw materials, and one tail feather of the invisible beast, the most expensive ingredient for the invisibility potion, was worth six Galleons. Five Galleons were needed to make this potion''s tail feather, which would almost deplete Bryan''s savings.

    Unfortunately, things in the world often don''t go as expected. No matter how wellid ns may be, Murphy''s Law always prevails.

    Due to his inexperience, Bryan made a mistake in the dosage of powdered moonstone, causing the potion to fail.

    Because of this, Bryan felt depressed for several days.

    But just before the Potions ss a weekter, Bryan went to retrieve the materials used in the ss and found a bundle of ten unicorn horns in his usual storage cab. This was a precious material that rarely appeared in a student''s storage cab!

    Furthermore, during the ss where the Elixir of Euphoria was being exined, the nonchnt Professor Snape casually mentioned the invisibility potion to everyone.

    This made Bryan realize that he was afraid that his brewing and selling of potions in private would be discovered by the always cold-faced professor.

    Such situations happened several timester, but both sides maintained a high level of tacit understanding, and no one tried to break it.

    Because of this, Bryan gradually began to trust Severus Snape. Before that, he had always been wary of Snape because he had learned from chatting with students in the same hospital wing that Snape seemed to be a follower of the Dark Lord in the past. When the Dark Lord fell, he escaped the trial of the Wizengamot due to the asylum granted by Headmaster Dumbledore.

    However, the close rtionship with the headmaster did not change Bryan''s idea of keeping a low profile. He continued to remain silent in school, trying not to conflict with others or be too outstanding to avoid causing jealousy. This situationsted until his fifth year before being disrupted by an ident.

    It happened at the end of November 1986.

    That winter was particrly cold, and 84-year-old Grandma Felena did not survive until theing of New Year''s Christmas.

    For the grandmother who had taken good care of his growth and dedicated her life to charity, she was Bryan''s most beloved elder. Her death caused Bryan a lot of grief.

    But because that year was the OWLs year, schoolwork was quite intense, and there was not much time left for Bryan to grieve. Therefore, after attending the funeral of his grandmother in a hurry, Bryan had to return to school without stopping to continue his studies.

    Back to thete night of early December 1986.

    The pitch-ck night was like a huge curtain tightly covering the earth. The biting cold wind swept over the ckke that had begun to freeze, and the colliding ice fragments made a crackling sound like chewing bones.

    After confirming that all his roommates were fast asleep, Bryan sat up with a nk expression. He quietly got dressed and took out a framed ck and white photo from the darkpartment next to the bed.

    Themon room was quiet, and the long, low room looked more like a burial chamber with its pale green lights, rough stone walls, and many empty carved soft chairs.

    The students of Slytherin House were not as keen on exploring the castle in the middle of the night as the Gryffindors, so Bryan didn''t encounter a single student while navigating the dizzying corridors.

    And even if he did, there was nothing to worry about.

    Bryan had great confidence in his mastery of the Disillusionment Charm. He couldpletely conceal his body while moving, and even Filch''s malnourished cat wouldn''t notice anything unusual.

    "Hey, little guy, I think you must be lost!"

    When passing through the hallway, the voice from above the marble stairs caught Bryan''s attention. He took a few steps closer and looked up, only to find that it was Gryffindor prefect, Bill Weasley talking to a Hufflepuff student.

    "Go back to sleep, little guy, or I''ll send you to see Professor Sprout."

    "Okay, okay, Prefect Weasley, I''m going back to the dormitory now!"

    Relieved that he wouldn''t lose any house points or be sent to a professor for punishment, the young wizard caught by Bill expressed his gratitude. He quickly bowed to Bill to apologize and then hurriedly ran off.

    After dealing with the unruly little wizard, Bill stroked his long hair that was loose on the back of his head, hummed a tune, and continued up the marble stairs to carry out his prefect duties.

    Bryan stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching Bill''s figure disappear from sight. The eldest son of the Weasley family, trusted by Dumbledore and highly regarded by teachers and students alike, possessed not only outstanding academic achievements but also an extraordinary charm.

    But among the senior Slytherins, Bill Weasley had a very bad reputation.

    They believed that Bill, who spent his days with a group of Muggle-born wizards, had betrayed the honor of ancient wizarding families. In secret, they harbored ns to teach him a lesson.

    However, every time they tried, they were beaten badly by Bill Weasley and his skilled Quidditch-ying brothers, no matter how many of them joined forces.

    As a result, Bill Weasley had be almost a public enemy to the Slytherin students in the upper years. Rumors even circted that Headmaster Dumbledore intended to hand over the position of Head Boy to Bill when he reached seventh year, which only intensified the targeting.

    Bryan silently smiled, turned, and made his way toward the entrance hall and the Forbidden Forest.

    None of these troubles concerned him. After all, no one would foolishly expect an invisible figure like him in Slytherin, someone who had no sense of existence, to defeat the proud son of Gryffindor.

    Author''s Note : In the Harry Potter series, the longsting invisibility potion is made using a variety of ingredients, including powdered moonstone, unicorn horn, and dittany. The specific recipe and ingredients for the potion are not explicitly mentioned in the books.

 012 Enraged

    012 Enraged

    On the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Bryan stopped and took a look at Hagrid''s house. There was no light in the simple log cabin, and at the same time, he couldn''t feel any magical presence. It seemed that Hagrid was not in the house.

    As we all know, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts is one of Albus Dumbledore''s most trusted confidantes. Many times, Dumbledore would entrust extremely important and private matters to this seemingly rough, but always reliable, big guy.

    Bryan wasn''t sure whether Hagrid was out on errands or patrolling in the Forbidden Forest. In order to ensure that he wouldn''t be disturbed, Bryan walked a long way to the south before striding into the woods.

    The dense Forbidden Forest was dark and silent, except for the sound of feet stepping on dead leaves. Even the bone-chilling winter wind seemed afraid of the oppressive silence here.

    Bryan walked straight into the woods, deviating from the winding path and circumventing a felled logging field now covered with mossy stumps. He continued until he couldn''t see any sign of the castle, stopping before a massive, t bluestone.

    "Here it is, Granny Ferrena."

    Bryan said to the old woman whose kind smile was forever fixed in the photo. He ced the photo on the ground and propped it up with a broken branch.

    "ording to the customs of the world I lived in before, at midnight on the seventh day after death, the soul will have a chance to return to this world to visit their living family members," Bryan exined.

    He shook his sleeves, and a twelve-inch long, ebony wand with a core of dragon''s heart nerves slipped down his palm in perfect condition.

    He pointed his wand at the ground, and a fist-sized pebble immediately floated up at his feet, spinning rapidly and transforming into an orange-yellow copper basin.

    "At this time, living family members will use a method to honor their deceased rtives¡ª"

    Bryan sat down cross-legged, not feeling the slight difort of the slippery and cold bluestone on his buttocks.

    He took out a cloth bag from his pocket, an expanded space created by the traceless stretching spell. The bag, bought from the ''Dervish and Banges'' magic supply shop in Hogsmeade for two Galleons, it was initially limited in space but had been improved to hold a significant amount of items and had the function of ssifying and organizing them.

    "I wonder if you would appreciate this method?" Bryan mused.

    Arge stack of incense, food, water, flowers, and candles spilled out from the bag, scattered on the ground.

    "Pong!"

    Bright golden mes ignited out of thin air, swiftly consuming the Incense and the flowers. The intense heat quickly charred the edges of the candles, drying the damp air and removing any moisture.

    The dancing mes flickered against the ss shield, reflecting Bryan''s slightly pale face.

    "I''m sorry I couldn''t be with you in your final days. It will probably be the biggest regret of my life."

    Bryan moved his chapped lips, adding more incense to the basin as he spoke to the old woman smiling in the mes.

    The mes swayed, casting a golden light that made the old woman in the photo appear as if he were moving, like a magical portraitforting a sorrowful young man with his soft voice.

    "¡ªIf it weren''t for you, I would have died at the hands of that woman about 15 years ago, and I would never have had the opportunity to know this wonderful world."

    The piercing north wind that swept through the fire-lit area turned gentle, gently lifting the ends of Bryan''s hair as if an invisible hand caressed the top of his head.

    Bryan stared at the photo and whispered the secret hidden deep in his heart. Those absurd things, no matter how close they were, could not be said. Only in the presence of his deceased rtives could Bryan be free of inhibitions.

    The graceful moon gradually nted across the sky. In thetter half of the night, the mist from the depths of the Forbidden Forest enveloped everything in a hazy veil.

    "What do you think he''s doing, Henry?"

    Due to his preupation, Bryan had lost his vignce, failing to notice that two individuals with broomsticks and wearing red Gryffindor jerseys had been silently observing him from a few feet behind.

    "I can''t say, Grace, but it looks like he''s performing some kind of dark ritual... using ck magic to summon the deceased person in the photo. It''s probably the sort of thing the Slytherin gang loves to study," Henry, Gryffindor''s fourth-year beater, with his round face and small eyes, whispered to the girl beside him, who was both his teammate and lover.

    "He''s Bryan Watson, a nerd with a very entric character."

    "A nerd with a entric character?" Grace, with her long pale golden hair, raised her slender eyebrows.

    "That''s right," Henry puffed up his cheeks and chuckled. "I heard Haytham from Ravenw say that every Saturday morning when he goes to the library, he sees Bryan sitting in the corner of the reading area, surrounded by piles of books. He doesn''t interact with anyone, seems obsessed with studying, but his grades are much worse than Charlie''s, probably because he''s not very bright."

    Grace giggled, leaning against her Cleansweep Five broomstick and snuggling up to Henry''s arms.

    "Maybe we should go back to the castle and inform a professor, dear. We can''t allow him to curse a dead old woman with evil ck magic, can we?"

    "That''s not a good idea, Grace."

    Henry''s small eyes sparkled mischievously as he rejected his girlfriend''s suggestion without hesitation. "Charlie and the others are still ying hide-and-seek with that giant spider in the Forbidden Forest. If we call a professor, they''ll all be caught."

    "Charlie mentioned that his brother Bill, the prefect on duty tonight, is reliable. We can go and inform him. I don''t think Bill would betray his search brother."

    Grace blinked, making another suggestion.

    "That''s a good idea, Grace," Henry said, grinning at Bryan''s thin figure on the bluestone. "However, I have an even more interesting way to punish this dark wizard. Come on, Grace, get out your wand, and let''s teach him a lesson!"

    With only a few incense and candles left on the ground, Bryan gathered them in his hands and threw them all into the red copper basin. As he whispered his final farewell, he hoped that his grandmother''s merits in this life would bring blessings in the next.

    "I hope that your merits in this life can be a blessing in the next, Grandma Ferrena. The ce where I lived in my previous life is also peaceful. If you have the opportunity to choose, you can be born in..."

    "Hey! Dark wizard of Slytherin, prepare to be judged!"

    The sudden shout startled Bryan, who was emerging from his deep emotions. Before he could react, two sharp spell cries sounded behind him.

    "Arresto Momentum!"

    "Petrificus Totalus!"

    In an instant, Bryan jolted awake, but he had no time to think about who was attacking him. Instinctively, he reached for his wand to defend himself, only to realize in shock that the wand was inadvertently pinned beneath his legs. Sitting cross-legged in front of the brazier for over an hour had caused his legs to go numb, leaving him unable to react effectively.

    Damn, I was too careless!

    Frustration welled up within Bryan as he pushed himself up from the ground, using his left hand to support his body. He let his weight shift to one side, picking up the magic wand that had rolled down the bluestone during his fall. Just in time, he managed to dodge the iing spell.

    However, the photo of Grandma Ferrena and the brazier conjured by Bryan were not as fortunate. Henry''s petrification spell missed Bryan but identally struck the brazier. Instantly, the fire snakes that danced in the air cast an eerie glow, illuminating the gloomy Forbidden Forest as if it were dawn.

    Grace''s Curse hit the photo of Grandma Ferrena head-on. With a crisp sound, the photo shattered, and the torn pieces were devoured by the golden fire snakes, swiftly turning to ck ash.

    As Bryan struggled to rise, his gaze followed the path of the disintegrated photo. Trance, astonishment, and anger flickered in his light brown eyes. When the photo turned to ashes, Bryan, seething with anger, slowly but resolutely raised his wand in the direction of the attackers.

    Author''s Note: Thanks for reading the chapter, I will add some extra facts and description of gadgets and spells of wizarding world mentioned in this chapter below.

    Extra Fact 1 :

    The specifications of a twelve-inch long, ebony wand with a core of dragon''s heart nerves in the context of the Harry Potter universe represent the unique characteristics and properties of a particr wand.

    Length: The length of a wand is believed to be an indicator of the personality and magical abilities of the witch or wizard who wields it. A longer wand, such as a twelve-inch wand, often suggests that the wielder possesses a strong and focused magical presence.

    Wood: Ebony is a rare and highly valued wood known for its dark and dense nature. In wandlore, the choice of wood can symbolize various traits and qualities. Ebony is associated with protection, power, and elegance. It is often used to create wands for witches and wizards with a strong sense of purpose and determination.

    Core: The core of a wand is its magical center, providing a source of power and imbuing the wand with specific characteristics. Dragon''s heart nerves are considered to be a powerful and rare core material, representing strength, courage, and ambition. Wands with dragon core are often associated with a more forceful and adventurous style of magic.

    Overall, a twelve-inch ebony wand with a core of dragon''s heart nerves suggests a wand that is wielded by a determined, powerful, and ambitious witch or wizard. It signifies abination of strong magical presence, protective qualities, and a propensity for more forceful and daring magic.

    Fact 2:

    In European folklore and cultural beliefs, there is a concept known as the "Seventh Night" or "Seventh-Day Visit." While not universally practiced across all European cultures, there are some regions where simr beliefs and customs exist.

    In certain European traditions, it is believed that the soul of the deceased may return to the earthly realm on the seventh night after death. This is often seen as an opportunity for the departed soul to visit their family, seek closure, or providefort. Family members may prepare for this visit by leaving a door or window open, setting a ce at the table, or lighting a candle to guide the spirit back home.

    In some countries, such as Irnd and parts of Scond, this belief is associated with the concept of "wake nights." During the wake, which typicallysts several days, family and friends gather to mourn and remember the deceased. It is believed that on the seventh night, the soul may return to bid their final farewell and ensure the family''s well-being before departing to the afterlife.

    Fact 3:

    Petrificus Totalus" is a spellmonly used in the Harry Potter series to temporarily immobilize a target by rendering thempletely petrified. When the spell is cast, the victim''s entire body bes rigid and unable to move, as if they have been turned to stone.

    The incantation "Petrificus Totalus" is derived from the Latin words "petra" meaning "stone" and "totus" meaning "total" or "entire." It is a binding spell that freezes the target in ce, making them unable to move, speak, or defend themselves.

    The spell is typically performed by pointing a wand at the target and saying "Petrificus Totalus." The effects of the spell vary depending on the skill and power of the caster, as well as the resistance of the target. While under the effects of Petrificus Totalus, the victim remains conscious butpletely immobilized.

    It''s worth noting that Petrificus Totalus is a temporary paralysis spell and does not cause any physical harm to the target. The effects wear off over time, and the victim eventually regains their mobility. In the Harry Potter series, the spell is often used as a means of capturing or restraining opponents temporarily.

    "Arresto Momentum" spell is used to slow down or halt the momentum of a moving object or person. This spell is seen in the third book/movie, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, when Hermione Granger uses it to slow down the fall of Harry and Ron from their broomsticks during a Quidditch match. The incantation "Arresto Momentum" is not explicitly stated in the scene, but it ismonly associated with the spell. The spell''s purpose is to reduce the speed or force of movement, providing a momentary respite or stabilization.

    Fact 4:

    In the Harry Potter series, one of the magical supply shops in the vige of Hogsmeade is called "Dervish and Banges." Dervish and Banges is a store that sells various magical items and supplies, catering to the needs of Hogwarts students and wizards in general. The shop offers a wide range of products, including spell books, potion ingredients, cauldrons, broomsticks, and other magical gadgets. It is a popr destination for Hogwarts students during their visits to Hogsmeade, providing them with essential supplies for their magical studies and adventures.

 013 Lesson(Re-Written)

    013 Lesson(Re-Written)

    Author''s Note: Many readers wereining that these chapters were weird and confusing so iam rewriting these chapters. if you find some mistakes pleasement them.

    Although they knew there were two people on their side, although they knew all the members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team were nearby, when Bryan''s dreadful gaze pierced in their direction, Henry and Grace still shuddered in unison. It was as if a full-grown Hungarian Horntail had opened its gaping maw towards them, ready to choose and devour!

    "Henry~"

    Grace gripped her boyfriend''s wrist tightly, her voice trembling.

    "Are you sure he''s just an odd Slytherin bookworm, Henry? Why do I find his gaze so terrifying, a bit like the crazed hippogriff Professor Kettleburn showed usst week?"

    "Don''t talk nonsense, Grace. We''re Gryffindors¡ªthe House of Courage!"

    Henry inwardly agreed with Grace''s assessment. Just a moment ago, when his eyes met Watson''s, if Grace hadn''t been hiding in his embrace, he might have turned and fled.

    But a man''s dignitypelled him to stand firm.

    "Hey, bad boy Watson, don''t look at us like that. You brought this upon yourself. Who told you to sneak into the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night to cast dark curses on someone... Wait, what are you doing?!"

    Whoosh!

    Magic power raged as the scattered mes on the mud, tree trunks, and stones united at the tip of Bryan''s wand into a tangible golden fireball, like a blinding sun rising above the night-cloaked sea.

    The terrifying heat rapidly vaporized the moisture in the damp, cold air before spreading outward. A pine tree near Bryanbusted, and the two young wizards dozens of feet away instantly broke into a sweat, as if standing at the mouth of an erupting volcano!

    "No, no, please don''t, Bryan. We didn''t mean to..."

    Fear caused two lines of tears to stream down Grace''s beautiful face. She waspletely unaware of what she was saying, merely pleading instinctively.

    Henry also raised his wand, but he knew full well that his dubious Shield Charm could never withstand the ferocious golden ze at Bryan''s wand tip.

    "Get on your broom and run!"

    At the very moment Bryan''s ashen face swung his wand down, Henry finally mustered a shred of courage. He threw all his might into hurling Grace and her Cleansweep-five backwards, letting out a heart-wrenching roar,

    "Find Professor McGonagall! Don''t look back!"

    Henry might never know that it was the brief flicker of humanity in the face of death that saved him.

    Witnessing this scene, Bryan''s resentful gaze wavered for an instant. The next second, his steady wrist abruptly lowered slightly, and the fireball that would havended at his feet instead struck the ground ten feet away with a thunderous boom!

    Kaboom!

    Like the brilliant sh of a supernova at the end of its life, the fireball brimming with terrifying magic power instantly turned the cracked earth into moltenva upon impact.

    The scorching air violently disced erupted in a deafening roar, like a pressure cooker suddenly bursting open. Henry''s Shield Charm shattered in less than a second. He didn''t even have time to scream before the overwhelming shockwave sted him away. There was a sickening crack as he collided with a tree trunk-thick tree, then tumbled dozens of feet before finally stopping, his back a bloody mess!

    Grace suffered rtively lighter injuries, as Henry had shielded her from much of the st. Nevertheless, the powerful wave still flung her over ten feet away.

    Standing behind an ivory magical barrier unscathed, Bryan red darkly at the battered and wailing Grace as she scrambled onto her broomstick, not even bothering to extinguish the mes on her robes before bolting towards the castle. Ultimately, he did not attack again.

    The surroundings were in utter chaos. Without magical sustenance, the special fire stubbornly devoured the ravaged world.

    Crunch, crunch...

    Bryan stepped through the scorched earth, approaching Henry''s side and looking down at the horrifying wounds on his back with no change in expression.

    Of course, Henry wasn''t dead. Bryan had no desire to go to Azkaban for further studies, at least not yet.

    "I was about to let you taste the agony of dismemberment," Bryan said emotionlessly. "To teach you a lesson. But your final bravery has earned you some dignity."

    From a pouch, Bryan retrieved a bottle of dittany along with several colorful, enigmatic potions. Mixing them in proportion, he poured the concoction over Henry''s back and, with a wave of his wand, the torn flesh pulsed as new skin rapidly grew over the wounds.

    Henry''s pallid face regained some color, though several ribs remained unnaturally bent. Bryan did not treat the broken bones¡ªthose minor injuries would be easy for Madam Pomfrey to fix.

    "I should have known better than to think we''d be safe even at school¡ª"

    Swish, swish, swish!

    Suddenly, several piercing sounds rent the air from deep within the Forbidden Forest. As they drew closer, they split off, surrounding Bryan from all sides as five shadowy figures gradually emerged through the billowing mist.

    Bryan did not seem surprised. As soon as he saw Henry and Grace''s Gryffindor Quidditch robes, he knew they would not be acting alone.

    However, when one short, stocky silhouette came into focus, Bryan could not help his mouth twitch involuntarily.

    Charlie Weasley¡ªBill Weasley''s younger brother, the second-eldest Weasley son, Gryffindor''s genius Seeker. Dangling from his broomstick was a spider the size of a car, simultaneously petrified by at least three Stunning Spells!

    Bryan had no idea the Forbidden Forest even housed Acromants. These Gryffindor lions certainly knew how to have fun!

    With a Seeker''s keen eyes, Charlie immediately noticed Henry lying at Watson''s feet. Despite his youthful age, Charlie remainedposed, not demanding answers hastily. Mounted high on his broom, he surveyed the daunting devastation, inhaling sharply when he saw the nearly three-foot-deep, still-smoldering crater before Bryan.

    "Where is Grace, Watson?" Charlie''s voice was as weathered as his appearance.

    "Perhaps she has already be one with the earth," Bryan calmly replied. "You''re wee to search and see if you can dig up a few fingernail shards."

    "You killed Grace?!" One of the Gryffindor yers roared in disbelief. "And Henry, where are his clothes? What did you do to him?!"

    A torrent of outraged shouts poured forth as they all raised their wands at Bryan, some even calling to have him sent to Azkaban.

    Indeed, Charlie Weasley possessed a leadership quality beyond his years. Among this group, he was the youngest yet most level-headed. He did not believe Bryan would actually kill Grace unless he truly wished to go to wizarding prison. However, Henry''s severe injuries were undeniable, and ensuring his safety was the top priority.

    Charlie severed the ropes holding the Acromant with his wand, maneuvering his broom in the air as he said gravely,

    "Hand Henry over to us, Watson, or you may be in for a rough time."

    Assessing situations and weighing pros and cons is not something a group of Gryffindor wizards in their teens excels at. If they were of Slytherin heritage, they would likely have reacted with much more restraint and decorum upon witnessing the ravaged and battered state of the Forbidden Forest around them.

    "Stop wasting words on him, Charlie! We''ll cover you - go save Priam!"

    A Gryffindor yer mounted on a Comet-series broomstick shouted from above and to Bryan'' left, before resolutely flinging a vibrant red spell his way.

    The Gryffindor Quidditch team members indeed acted in excellent coordination. That Stunning Spell seemed to be an attack signal, and apart from Charlie, the three other yers immediately responded upon receiving it.

    To maximally confuse Bryan, they constantly switched positions mid-air on their broomsticks, their shadowy forms weaving an intricate over his head, intermittently casting Stunning Spells and Body-Bind Curses.

    Truth be told, Bryan had originally intended to return Priam to them and had no ns to engage them.

    Grace had already gone to fetch help from the castle. The professors would soon learn that students were dueling in the Forbidden Forest. Point deductions and detentions would be unavoidable punishments, but Bryan hoped the detention duration would be rtively short - he certainly did not wish to remain in Snape''s office until next Christmas.

    However, since the Gryffindors struck first, defending himself through retaliation posed no issue; in fact, it was a wee outlet for his vexation.

    With a flick of his wand, a swirling vortex of intertwined silver and ck magical energy materialized before Bryan, its center an indented, unfathomably deep ck hole.

    Akin to the mythical Charybdis Maelstrom of Greek lore, it hovered by his side, automatically rising to meet and effortlessly devour any spells cast its way from any direction, without need for wand control.

    "What sort of magic is that?"

    The Gryffindor team tried valiantly - simultaneously attacking from multiple angles or focusing their efforts to breach the vortex - but to no avail.

    "I don''t know, but it looks like Dark magic!" another yelled in response.

    Charlie Weasley knew he had to act; he could not simply stand idly by any longer.

    As the prodigious Seeker discovered by Gryffindor House, Charlie''s flying skills truly surpassed others by a whole tier. He flitted like an ethereal ghost, briefly lingering in one spot before reappearing elsewhere in a blink.

    Moreover, his spellcasting prowess was impressive. Under such high-speed motion, urately aiming each spell at Bryan was no easy feat - even young Professor Flitwick might not have managed such agility.

    s, that did not mean he could prate Bryan'' defenses.

    Deep into the night, Bryan unexpectedly enjoyed a high-difficulty aerial disy in the Forbidden Forest. Those breathtaking flying techniques awed even Bryan, whocked much Quidditch enthusiasm. No wonder the Slytherin team had been trounced by Gryffindor''sst year.

    "You measly worm, will you only cower behind that thing and note out?"

    Unable to ovee his defenses for long, the Gryffindor took to taunting.

    "Perhaps we should try a different approach!"

    Seeing his Disarming Charm fail again, a panting Charlie hovered, scanning left and right before immediately realizing.

    "Fly higher, everyone! Watch out for the Acromant''s venom burning through your robes - Immobulus!"

    Everyone, Bryan included, understood Charlie''s intention. He immediately turned towards the Acromant, witnessing Charlie''s wand beam strike its hairy, densely-covered legs.

    ck, ck, ck!

    Regaining mobility, the spider instantly brandished its two massive, glistening ck pincers, emitting an enraged hiss at the wizards before it.

    The eight-legged Acromant, having been toyed with by Charlie and his friends, shook its grotesque head frantically, blinking its emeraldpound eyes. In its senses, the buzzing, erratically flying red gnats above and the small wizards not far from it on the ground were in cahoots!

    Crack!

    The eight-legged spider moved astoundingly swiftly, its massive body''s forceful charge effortlessly shattering several trees as thick as bowl-rims.

    Bryan arched a brow. He knew about Acromants - the venom of these magical creatures was incredibly precious, a single ounce fetching a hundred Galleons. Granted, this particr spider seemed too young, unlikely containing enough venom.

    Still, even that was significant, and Bryan had no wasteful habits.

    Seeing Bryan unmoving against the spider, worry flickered across Charlie''s weathered face. He feared Bryan might have been paralyzed by the terrifying beast. Just as he prepared to caution him, Bryan abruptly raised his arm, wand pointed at the leaping Acromant mid-pounce.

    "Reducio!"

    The Acromant''s massive body instantly froze mid-air, its eight eyes simultaneously betraying bewilderment. Before it could react, its surroundings rapidly warped in its vision, and it found itself uncontrobly flying into a ss jar.

    "Thank you for this gift," Bryan raised his head after securing the jar with defensive enchantments. "I quite like it."

    Gripping his upright wand like a mallet, he sighed, "I''ll likely have much trouble to deal with next, so let''s quickly end this sorry state and return to the castle. If all goes well, I might even squeeze in half an hour''s nap back in the dorms."

    "Dream on, Watson! You actually want to sleep?"

    The first Gryffindor attacker snapped out of his daze over Bryan'' nonchnt subduing of the Acromant, baring his teeth menacingly, "The Dementors will entertain you thoroughly!"

    "The winds are strong up there. I suggest you don''t fly too high, or the fall will be quite painful," Bryan disregarded the threat, looking towards Charlie instead. "What did you intend?"

    Heeding the warning, Charlie warily raised his wand to his chest, gripping his broomstick tightly, prepared to evade at any moment.

    However, Bryan did not cast any spells. Instead, he swung his wand like a mallet, forcefully striking the empty space before him!

    Buzz!

    With that strike, a violent storm erupted in the invisible realm, magical energy rippling outwards in intense waves from Bryan'' impact point like a once-cid surface disturbed by a falling stone.

    Bam! Bam! Bam!

    The Gryffindors, swept over by the chaotic magical forces, unceremoniously plummeted from their broomsticks like dumplings, each knocked out cold after a few heavy thumps.

    "I warned you that it woulde to this... Oh, it''s never-ending,"

    Bryan muttered turning towards the castle, where a concerned Bill Weasley rapidly approached from beyond the Forest''s boundary on Grace''s broomstick.

 014 Life And Death Duel (RE-Written)

    014 Life And Death Duel (RE-Written)

    "Bryan Watson?"

    Bill Weasley''s handsome features lost their usual casual, carefree expression due to the shock. As he tumbled off his Nimbus 1700, his wizard''s robes nearly tripped him over a broken stump.

    "When Grace told me you killed Henry, I thought she was just ying an amusing little prank on me."

    Bill''s eyesight was limited; he could only see the crimson ground beneath the face down, bare-backed Henry, unable to discern if he was alive or dead.

    "I simply cannot believe it, Watson. Are you secretly nning a massacre at Hogwarts?"

    Bill''s gaze roamed over the stunned Gryffindor yers scattered about, his expression gradually twisting. When he spotted the motionless Charlie in a bush, Bill''s shock gave way to frantic rage. He didn''t hesitate to draw his wand, pointing it at Bryan.

    "Tell me, you bastard, what did you do to Charlie!"

    Though the Weasley children asionally butted heads, they banded together fiercely when an outsider harmed their family.

    "Don''t shout, Bill Weasley," Bryan said unfazed. "Let''s get them back to the castle first. I''ll exin to the headmaster and heads of houses what happened in the Forbidden Forest, but I''m toozy to exin twice. If you''re curious, you can request to attendter."

    "Stay right there! Don''t move!" Bill''s wand trembled as he growled sharply.

    "Grace has gone to notify Professors McGonagall and Snape. Headmaster Dumbledore will be back from off-grounds soon. You''re not going anywhere until they arrive!"

    The cold wind brushed their faces as leaves rustled. Dawn was still some time away, but a lethal force lurked in the thick darkness, waiting to strike.

    Bryan nced towards the Forbidden Forest''s depths, his brow furrowing slightly. He couldn''t be certain of the source of the sudden sensation of being watched. Considering that Acromants are not solitary creatures, staying here wasn''t a good choice.

    "It''s not safe here, Weasley. Let''s head back to the castle," Bryan repeated calmly.

    "The biggest dangeres from you, Watson. I''ll say it again - stay put. And hand over your wand!" Bill remained highly alert, ring at Bryan''s wrists, his nerves tense, ready to act.

    Bryan''s brow creased as he nced again towards the Forbidden Forest''s ckness. The faint but distinct unease in the air made his breath catch - he could almost confirm something was fixated on him from the shadows.

    "I''ll repeat myself too, Weasley," Bryan stressed. "It''s not very safe here. Let''s return to the castle!"

    Bill''s eyes instantly sharpened, interpreting Bryan''s words as a signal to flee. Without hesitation, he flicked his wand!

    Swish, swish, swish!

    As one of Hogwarts'' most exceptional students, Bill Weasley excelled inbat. In a brief span of time, heunched three dazzling red spells at Bryan, blocking any space for him to evade.

    However, this likely didn''t pose much of a threat to Bryan.

    Since Bill Weasley refused to leave, Bryan would just have to incapacitate him and bring him along. It made no difference if there were five or six people - he''d already exposed too much tonight, so revealing more didn''t matter.

    Bryan flicked his wand to deflect the Stunning Spell aimed at him. With a skillful wrist movement, he recited the incantation in his mind.

    "Venturisectum!"

    Bill raised an eyebrow, finally confirming that Bryan Watson, the unknown Slytherin student, possessed strength beyond that of an ordinary young wizard.

    "Protego!"

    However, Bill Weasley had his own confidence. Facing the iing spell, he didn''t panic, swiftly casting a shield charm.

    Whoosh!

    A forceful gust mmed into him, the powerful magic shattering the Shield Charm''s barrier. The previouslyposed Bill''s expression instantly froze. Before he could recover, he felt his feet leave the ground. On the brink of oblivion, a sickly green light made his pupils constrict as the shadowy observer finally revealed its horrific form.

    "Watch out!" Bill still managed to warn Bryan in the final moment.

    Whump!

    The instant the Killing Curse struck the ground, a billow of emerald mes red up, its ominous aura like the Grim Reaper dancing amidst the ze.

    Rolling aside from the lethal curse, Bryan slowly rose from the ground. Though forewarned, being ambushed by an Unforgivable for the first time still left him shaken.

    That split second had been his closest brush with death since entering the wizarding world!

    Around twenty years old, a woman.

    From the wand-gripping hand exposed beneath the ck cloak, Bryan deduced the assant''s gender and approximate age.

    The oppressive silence ravaged Bryan''s spirit. The all-pervasive peril made every cell in his body tremble. Under the dueling emotions of fear and excitement, the magic within him surged with unprecedented intensity, as if eagerly awaiting this life-or-death crisis!

    "No matter who you are or what your purpose is," Bryan stared fixedly at the indistinct face beneath the assant''s hood, coldly stating,

    "Breaking into Hogwarts, under Headmaster Dumbledore''s very nose, using the most dangerous of the three Unforgivable Curses against an underage wizard - I must admire your audacity."

    The woman said nothing, only releasing a disdainful, scornful snort, as if utterly unconcerned with a response.

    "Dumbledore and the school''s professors will arrive within five minutes at most. If you flee now, you might still make it."

    The woman''s wand remained steady, without a shred of wavering. This made Bryan''s heart sink, realizing the assant was dead set on taking his life.

    But why?

    Since he had entered Hogwarts, he hadn''t offended anyone, and his interactions with wizards outside the school were limited to selling potions through owls. Could it be that the potions he brewed had caused someone''s death, prompting their family members to seek revenge? But that seemed highly unlikely. Bryan had great confidence in his skill, and such a tragedy wouldn''t have urred.

    Bryan couldn''t fathom it, but the ambushing woman wouldn''t give him ample time to ponder. She knew Bryan''s previous statement about Dumbledore and the professors wasn''t a bluff - they truly would arrive soon.

    Tonight, the most perilous confrontation began!

    The green light once again illuminated the Forbidden Forest, signaling the start of a life-or-death struggle.

    Bryan''s expression became unprecedentedly solemn. Raising his wand like a king grasping his sword, poised to strike, the glowing tip suddenly burst forth like a copsing dam - an endless, surging torrent of magic power. In the pitch-ck night, it transformed into a shining, silver stream, thundering down upon the earth with staggering force.

    Rumble, rumble!

    The ground violently shook as therge boulder between them instantly pulverized into dust. Tens of thousands of frost-coated leaves rustled in unison, a chilling chorus.

    When the dust settled and the spellfire faded, the soft earth bore a gaping, harrowing fissure seventy to eighty feet long.

    This spell was Bryan''s response to the woman''s Killing Curse!

    Streak after streak of blinding and chilling curse lights shed and vanished in the dim darkness. The tranquil dense forest echoed with the rumbling sounds of snapping branches crashing to the ground and exploding sts.

    The twobatants continuously and swiftly shifted position on the rugged terrain, utilizing broken branches, vines, bushes, and any obstacle to gain a slight advantage.

    Only half a minute into the life-and-death duel, Bryan had already confirmed two things.

    First, the ck-robed witch he was engaged with had indeede for him, with an intense killing intent. She did not hesitate to use dark magic forbidden by the Ministry of Magic, including the three Unforgivable Curses, as well as numerous restricted spells that caused grave injury or death, seeking only to kill him as quickly as possible.

    This was simply outrageous! Bryan''s face turned green with outrage zing in his eyes. Who could possibly hold such a deep grudge against him to want him dead?

    Second, the ck witch''sbat experience was indeed extensive, more so than Bryan''s, he had to admit. During their brief exchange, her agile evasion of curses moved with the grace of a dance master, dizzying to watch. Beyond that, her various feinting attacks, ability tounch surprise strikes amid high-intensity dueling, and masterfulbination of transfiguration, tactical spells, and dark magic left Bryan in awe.

    Inparison, Bryan, who had only secretly practiced dueling skills and asionally engaged inbat exercises with Professor Snape, could only be considered a novice.

    Of course, he also had powerful advantages of his own.

    If Bryan had to characterize this battle, it was an assassin against a master duellist.

    This ck witch of unknown origin was like a meticulously trained assassin - to her, all spells and attack techniques were merely tools for killing, seeking only proficiency rather than mastery.

    Bryan, however, was different. He had always aspired to deeply understand the essence of magic. Moreover, in tracing the origins of modern spells, he had found a unique path. If he persisted, he would undoubtedly achieve results that astounded the world.

    Most of the spells he used were improved versions born from deep contemtion and hundreds of experimental castings. Immensely powerful and difficult to directly defend against, their only drawback was overconsumption of magic.

    Bryan slightly regretted the spell he had initially cast to intimidate, as it had drained a considerable portion of his magic without any effect.

    The ck witch had cast a disillusionment charm on herself during the duel. Although her magic could not be concealed, it certainly made pinpointing her precise location difficult. Combined with her constant repositioning and nonverbal spellcasting, she could practicallyunch surprise attacks face-to-face.

    Fortunately, Bryan''s learning ability was formidable. Following her lead, he quickly mastered this method as well, resulting in the two dueling in the Forbidden Forest appearing like translucent ghosts flinging spells at each other!

    Whoosh!

    A surging fiendfyre burst forth from behind a boulder shattered in half up the slope. Fanning out midair, it instantly became an all-consuming tidal wave of mes. Fire-formed ferocious beasts like dragons, sphinxes, and chimaeras roared silently atop the crashing inferno.

    The ck witch had no intention of controlling the fiendfyre, allowing the terrifying mes to spread unchecked and consume everything as she swiftly changed position, concealing herself.

    Bryan''s lips pressed tightly together, eyes burning with hatred.

    With his current abilities, he could not directly extinguish the fiendfyre. However, he could not stand idly by as the scattered mes devoured the Forbidden Forest, in case that unfortunate group of Gryffindor lions perish in the ze.

    Bryan swiftly waved his wand, casting a sheet of golden mes into the air. This fire was derived from fiendfyre, but improved and constrained by Bryan. Though not as overbearing as fiendfyre, it was more controble and would not adversely affect his rationality.

    Fighting fire with fire is a brilliant way tobat mes.

    Bryan controlled the mes to iste the inferno, increasing his magic output to gradually consume the fiendfyre.

    "I can''t bear to imagine what will happen there, Snape. How many lives will be lost!"

    Gazing at the golden and white intertwined mes illuminating half the sky from the Forbidden Forest, Professor McGonagall''s lips were tightly pursed, her face deathly pale. She had abandoned all vice-principal dignity, running wildly with her usually impable bunpletely disheveled, not bothering to tidy it.

    Snape''splexion was a sickly yellow, not much better than McGonagall''s. For the first time in so many years since Lily''s death that night, he inwardly prayed for something!

    At the castle gates, Professor Flitwick missed a step, tumbling down ungracefully. Professor Sprout, who had even lost her hat, merely steadied him as she rushed past toward the Forbidden Forest without a word.

    Swish, swish!

    After a prolonged stalemate unable to kill Bryan, the ck witch resorted to even more despicable means. She transfigured scattered rocks into sharp daggers, then sent over a dozen hurtling toward the Gryffindors Bryan had moved to a clearing!

    "No matter who you are, I will make you pay a heart-wrenching price!"

    Fury was about to shoot from Bryan''s eyes. His right hand restraining the fiendfyre did not waver as his left flung out a milky white orb.

    The orb reached Bill and Charlie''s location before the daggers, instantly expanding into a dome-shaped, transparent bowl-like magical barrier, blocking the iing des just in time.

    Even the ck witch did not anticipate this move, freezing for two crucial seconds.

    Those two seconds became the turning point!

    Bryan suddenly withdrew his right hand. With a rapid flick of his wand, the stones at his feet instantly transfigured into a long spear tinged green on the surface, shooting forth like lightning to appear before the ck witch almost instantaneously.

    CLANG!

    In the split second, the ck witch summoned a shimmering barrier wreathed in ck mist. It collided with the spear in a deafening gong-like ng before both dissipated into fading sparks.

    Though she had blocked it, the tremendous impact sent her magic into turmoil, her consciousness cking out momentarily.

    "Sectumsempra!"

    Finally seizing the opportunity, Bryan let out his most furious roar yet in the battle. An inaudible chime rang out in the void as the Grim Reaper appeared overhead, mercilessly swinging its scythe down upon the ck witch with cold fury!

    On the other side, having just entered the Forbidden Forest, Snape heard the familiar enraged roar, his body involuntarily shuddering as his face drained from yellow to pitch ck. The next second, he strained his legs into a frantic sprint once more.

    Author''s Note: Venturisectum is bination of the words "Ventus" (Latin for "wind") and "Sectumsempra" (a spell created by Severus Snape).It is a powerful spell that creates a focused and forceful gust of wind capable of shattering protective barriers. When cast, the spell conjures a strong gust that surges towards the target. The wind carries a cutting force, simr to a sharp de or a whirlwind, allowing it to slice through magical shields and barriers. Upon impact, the wind forcefully strikes the protective barrier, exerting pressure and causing it to fracture or copse.

    It is not in canon but is created by the MC in this story.

 015 Trust

    015 Trust

    Bryan was stunned, his expression a mix of shock and confusion as he looked at the spot where the ck witch had been standing just moments ago.

    "Did she Apparate or use a Portkey?" a thought crossed Bryan''s mind, but he dismissed it almost immediately.

    The Hogwarts grounds were protected by powerful magical defenses, renderingmon teleportation methods ineffective. The ancient magic that shielded the school was on a different level altogether. Even the most formidable wizards might not be able to breach the defenses established by the founders.

    Yet, the ck witch, with her mysterious background, had given Bryan a venomous look before being hit by the Sectumsempra Curse and disappearing into thin air.

    Bryan searched the area in astonishment, hoping to find some clues, but the ck witch was truly gone, leaving no trace behind.

    "How is this possible? We''re still within the boundaries of Hogwarts, and they haven''t breached the protective walls in the Forbidden Forest. In theory, we''re still on school grounds," Bryan pondered.

    Deciding not to waste time trying to suppress the unextinguished Fiendfyre, Bryan cautiously approached the spot where the ck witch had vanished.

    He noticed a pool of bright red blood on the ground, evidence of her presence moments ago.

    Footsteps grew nearer, indicating the arrival of professors from the school. Bryan, resigned, stared at the blood that had yet to seep into the soil.

    "You left an opening," he muttered to himself. Before Professors McGonagall and Snape arrived, Bryan swiftly collected the blood in a small bottle and cast a Freezing Charm on it.

    "I will find you."

    Snape and McGonagall weren''t the first to reach the scene; Dumbledore arrived ahead of them.

    A brilliant crimson me suddenly shed in the scorching air. Albus Dumbledore materialized in midair, holding his phoenix wand. Hended gracefully, disying agility that defied his age.

    Dumbledore quickly surveyed his surroundings. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Bryan standing amidst the scorched earth, his arrival catching Bryan off guard. Behind his half-moon spectacles, a simmering anger emanated from the legendary wizard.

    Dumbledore''s first action was to extinguish the Fiendfyre that Bryan could not fully control. With a casual wave of his wand, the pale mes and the golden fire summoned by Bryan vanished instantly.

    "Hand over your wand, Mr. Watson," Dumbledore''s tone remained calm yet carried an undeniable firmness.

    Bryan hesitated for a moment; he didn''t want to surrender his wand. He believed that everything that had unfolded tonight could be exined, but it was this brief hesitation that almost led him into trouble.

    In that moment, Dumbledore was no longer the kind and friendly figure he had been to the young wizards of Hogwarts. He was the man who had directly faced and defeated the first Dark Lord, Grindelwald. He was the most powerful wizard of their time, who had kept the second Dark Lord at bay for nearly three decades. His reputation rivaled even that of the President of the International Confederation of Wizards.

    For Dumbledore now, disobedience meant resistance.

    Without warning, Dumbledore raised his wand and cast a disarming spell, his magic exuding unparalleled power. The air crackled and hundreds of thin tendrils of lightning surged where the spell passed. Bryan''s scalp tingled, and his face turned pale.

    The silver-ck magic shield that had effortlessly withstood attacks from Charlie and others shattered instantly against the force of the disarming spell.

    But Bryan wasn''t ready to surrender; he had his resolve. In the blink of an eye, he swung his wand wildly, conjuring a golden snake engraved on its surface. From the void, a huge silver metal shield materialized, blocking the spell''s path.

    Boom!

    The deep, resonating sound echoed through the earth, like muffled thunder on a winter night, reverberating across thend.

    Bryan saw countless golden stars sh before his eyes, his legs weakening as he staggered back.

    Dumbledore, surprised that Bryan had managed to halt his spell, exhibited a brief moment of astonishment. But it quickly faded.

    "Stop, Headmaster Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape finally arrived, witnessing the devastation of the ForbiddenForest before them. Professor McGonagall gasped, her hand covering her mouth in disbelief.

    Snape, ran hastened towards Dumbledore, boldly and roughly grabbing his hand to prevent any further action.

    "Wait, Dumbledore, there must be a misunderstanding!" Snape implored.

    Sweating profusely, Snape surveyed the scene. When his eyes fell upon Bill Weasley, suspended upside down in midair from a Levitation charm , he began to breathe more rapidly.

    "Finite Incantatem."

    He released Bill, and as Bill''s head hit the ground, he flung himselfically to the side, his handsome face etched with fear.

    Only then did he regain his senses and fullyprehend the situation.

    "Professor McGonagall, I saw it! Someone used the Killing Curse just now, I swear I saw it clearly!" Bill''s words hung in the air, chilling the atmosphere to silence.

    Snape, gripping Dumbledore''s arm tightly, felt the aged wrist strain against his grip, trying to break free.

    "Hand over your wand, Bryan!" Snape''s voice was tense as he looked at Bryan standing alone before Dumbledore. "Trust me, Bryan. We can resolve this misunderstanding, and I believe in you."

    Tick, tick...

    The sun hung high in the sky, casting its constant light and heat upon the white-cappednd, making it shimmer brightly.

    The sunlight reflected into the house, illuminating the dark cabin. The droplets of melting ice from the thick eaves gathered on the ground, forming small, clear puddles.

    "...When I returned to the castle the next day and heard about it, and when I saw the Forbidden Forest with my own eyes, you three can imagine how shocked I was!"

    The lively stove had dried up the water in the kettle. Hagrid hastily got up and pushed the door open with a hot handle. Outside, there was an audible click. After a while, he returned with a kettle full of crushed ice. Upon entering, Hagrid couldn''t help butugh when he saw the three of them still frozen in their ces, their mouths slightly agape.

    "So, you guys really enjoyed that story, huh?"

    "Enjoyed?"

    Ron jumped up, his ears turning red, and he eximed to Harry in excitement, "Why has no one ever told me about this before? Well, maybe Bill and Charlie did, but I forgot. Don''t give me that look, Hermione. I was only six years old, and too young to remember. Anyway..."

    Ron nced at Harry and gasped before shouting,

    "Can you believe it, Harry? He was only in fifth year, around Percy''s age now. If someone had told me Percy could have a showdown with Headmaster Dumbledore, I would have probablyughed at them until I graduated!"

    Harry grinned, understanding what Ron meant,

    "Has anyone ever done that, Hagrid?"

    Harry''s voice rose with excitement, his blood boiling as if he had fought alongside Dumbledore, even though he knew he would never stand against the venerable headmaster.

    "Don''t even think about it, Harry!"

    Hagrid burst intoughter,

    "No young wizard in fifth year could ever do that. Maybe someday, but not now. Besides, not just in Hogwarts, but in the entire British wizarding world, you won''t find many who can match the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever seen!"

    Pride resonated in Hagrid''s voice, and one had to admit that he spoke the truth.

    "Quiet down, you two!"

    Hermione, also caught up in the excitement, loudly interrupted Harry and Ron, who were getting carried away. Of course, she had to admit that she was also thrilled. She never expected the handsome and kind young wizard she met in the school hospitalst night to have such a remarkable ''record''!

    "And then, Hagrid, your story isn''t over yet!"

    Hermione tightly clutched Harry''s invisibility cloak and fixed her gaze upon Hagrid''s bright yellow cat-like eyes. "What happened to him, I mean, Mr. Bryan Watson?"

    Harry and Ron fell silent immediately, anxiously waiting for Hagrid to answer their questions.

    "Later, let me think..."

    Hagrid ran his thick beard through his sausage-like fingers,

    "They seemed to have locked him up for an entire term and deducted 100 points from Slytherin House... However, Headmaster Dumbledore added four hundred points to them not long after, putting Slytherin in the lead. They locked away the House Cup earlier."

    "Added four hundred points!"

    Harry eximed. Last year, they had kept the Philosopher''s Stone out of Quirrell and Voldemort''s hands, which was perhaps the greatest achievement they had aplished since starting school. But Dumbledore had only awarded them 170 points, and of those, Harry had received a mere sixty points!

    "What was Headmaster Dumbledore thinking?"

    Although he had nothing topare it to, Harry still felt a bit bewildered.

    "It''s obvious, Harry!"

    Hermione raised her eyebrows, a confident smile forming at the corner of her mouth, as if she had deciphered everything,

    "They locked him up for a term and deducted points because Mr. Watson trespassed into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night and attacked his ssmates with highly powerful magic. Later, the points were added because he saved the little wizards of the entire Gryffindor team, including Bill."

    "Saved?"

    Confusion spread across Ron''s face, "But weren''t they knocked out by Watson?"

    "Don''t be silly, Ron,"

    Hermione was not surprised by Ron''s slow understanding, and she exined, somewhat exasperated, "Think about it, Ron. If Mr. Watson hadn''t gone to the Forbidden Forest that night, who would have encountered that mysterious dark wizard?"

    Hiss!

    Ron suddenly sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he realized,

    "It was Charlie, and everyone on the Gryffindor team at the time!"

    Hermione nodded, satisfaction evident in her tone. "I''m d you finally caught on, Ron. With Bill''s help, they saved eight lives. That''s worth 400 points!"

    "So, Hagrid, Dumbledore confirmed that a dark wizard truly entered Hogwarts. Did he catch that person?"

    Harry, more perceptive than Ron or Hermione, suddenly had a thought.

    "Yeah, he confirmed it."

    As he spoke, Hagrid suppressed his smile and appeared solemn,

    "That night, after Bill woke up, the misunderstanding was quickly cleared. He told Dumbledore that it wasn''t Bryan who cast the Killing Curse, but a lurking dark wizard. Dumbledore personally examined Bryan''s wand, and every spell cast that night was confirmed ."

    "Afterward, Headmaster Dumbledore meticulously examined the battleground. You know, Harry, someone like Headmaster Dumbledore can almost piece together the entire story of that battle. But unfortunately, despite his extensive search, he couldn''t find that audacious dark wizard. It kept me awake for nearly two months, patrolling the Forbidden Forest every night."

    Hagrid blinked and addressed the three, who now understood the gravity of the situation,

    "It caused quite a stir at the time, and the Ministry of Magic even dispatched elite Aurors to search the Forbidden Forest. But they found nothing. To contain the panic, both Dumbledore and Fudge decided to keep the incident as quiet as possible. That''s why you haven''t heard much about it since."

    A somber atmosphere settled in, and Harry and Ron exchanged nces, wondering if the dark wizard could be another one of Voldemort''s minions, simr to Quirrell.

    "So, as I was saying, Ron, you must have heard of him¡ª"

    Hagrid smiled,

    "Professor Snape released Bryan Watson during the second-year Quidditch final. Before that, he had been in Snape''s office every night and every weekend, serving detention. Charlie''s Gryffindor team was quite strong, with a chance of winning consecutive championships. But when Snape let Bryan Watson onto the field, well, you can imagine what happened then. Seriously, Henry and Grace, The two of them didn''t just mount their brooms and escape; they truly lived up to Gryffindor''s name."

    "It seems Slytherin asionally produces remarkable individuals."

    Ron mumbled quietly.

    "There have been plenty of notable Slytherin wizards, Ron,"

    Hagridughed. He nced at the sun outside and realized it was gettingte¡ªit was time to prepare lunch.

    "The story is finished, you three. Would you like to join me for lunch?"

    "Oh!"

    Hermione snapped out of her daze, horrified,

    "Damn it, Madam Pomfrey, Ipletely forgot about the time!"

    She put on the invisibility cloak, revealing only her head,

    "Next time, Hagrid, I''ll have to stay at the hospital wing!"

    With that, she hurriedly rushed out. Harry and Ron were more inclined towards the food at the school, so they quickly got up to follow Hermione.

    "Oh, right."

    Hagrid, slightly disappointed, suddenly remembered something and called out to Harry''s retreating figure,

    "You haven''t told me why you were asking about Watson!"

    "Mr. Watson has returned to Hogwarts!"

    Harry didn''t turn back, just waving his hand above his head, "He''s now the investigator for the Chamber of Secrets attack!"

    ng, tter!

    Startled, Hagrid stumbled against the hut''s door, and the room shook violently from the impact. The melted snow on the roof cascaded down, burying him momentarily.

    "The investigator from the Ministry of Magic for the Chamber of Secrets?"

    Hagrid''s face drained of color as he leaned against the doorframe, whispering to himself,

    "That can''t be. Dumbledore... oh no, I need to figure this out!"

    After a while, Hagrid mmed the door shut and marched towards the castle, without a nce back, apanied by Fang''s barking.

 016 Negotiations

    016 Negotiations

    Bryan, who was jogging along theke in the morning, stood under a willow tree to rest for a while and saw a ck shadow approaching him quickly from the castle.

    "Dumbledore asked me to give this to you."

    The pale golden sunlight mixed with fine powder hit Snape''s face, softening his cold and rigid expression a little. After a few steps, he threw a ck money bag to Bryan.

    "How much is it in total?"

    Bryan shook the heavy purse in his hand and asked with great interest, "Two thousand Galleons. Dumbledore generously added two hundred Galleons on top of your request. Minerva doesn''t seem too pleased. By the way, she just found out that you returned to Hogsmeade. She wants to talk to you alone about your next n."

    "Tsk tsk!"

    The meeting with the stern deputy headmistress didn''t bother Bryan. He unbuttoned the bag and looked inside, instantly feeling extremelyfortable with the dazzling golden light.

    "You know, what if I ran away with the money right now?"

    "Unless you can escape to the moon, I don''t advise you to do such a foolish thing."

    Snape replied indifferently, staring at Bryan as he lowered his head, picked up a gold coin, and fiddled with it between his fingertips, his gaze fixed on Bryan''s shining eyes.

    "Also, I should remind you, Bryan, I''m not entirely sure, and I''m not curious about why your eye color has changed so much since you started school. But Dumbledore seems quite interested. He gave me the opportunity to inquire with you. Generally, when he''s interested in something, he''ll do his best to find out. So I suggest you be prepared."

    Bryan''s fingers suddenly froze, and after a brief silence, he regainedposure and let out a deep sigh.

    "Ah, what a great wizard!"

    Compared to the ever-changing pace of the Muggle world, the evolution of the wizarding society, which is more rooted in tradition, is astonishingly slow.

    Although there have been calls for reform in recent years, those voices advocating change remain feeble, like seeds buried deep in permafrost, waiting for the right time to sprout.

    Hogsmeade, the only remaining vige inhabited by pure-blood wizards in the British wizarding world, remainsrgely unchanged since Bryan attended Hogwarts. The few modifications are perhaps the signage of Zonko''s Joke Shop and the introduction of new products at Honeydukes Candy Shop.

    Bryan even wondered if a medieval wizard identally time-traveled to the present, they might not even feel out of ce in Hogsmeade.

    It was still the Christmas holiday, and the streets of Hogsmeade were deserted with only a few people hurrying about their own affairs. Bryan walked on, eventually stopping in front of a shop with gray ss windows.

    Dervish & Banges Magic Supply Store¡ªthis was Bryan''s destination.

    Ding ding ding...

    The copper bell hanging above the door produced a crisp sound as Bryan pushed it open and entered the shop.

    The dimly lit magic supply store featured several tall shelves lining the walls, disying looking sses, memory balls, leprechauns, broomstick care kits, Quidditch ball toolboxes, and numerous other magical and alchemical items.

    The bald-headed Mr. Banges seemed taken aback by the unexpected early visitor, but quickly regained hisposure and came out from behind the counter with a courteous smile.

    "Dear customer, what can I assist you with today? Dervish & Banges Magic Supply Store has everything you need. I''m here to guide you."

    "Thank you," Bryan replied, ncing up and scanning the towering shelves. "Do you have panoramic binocrs here?"

    "If you mean the panoramic binocrs typically used for watching Quidditch matches..."

    Mr. Banges hurried over to a shelf near the inner wall, jumped up, and retrieved a dusty pair of binocrs from a pile of misceneous items. While Bryan''s vision was obstructed, Mr. Banges quickly wiped the binocrs on his robes, removing the dust, and returned to Bryan with a smile resembling a blooming flower.

    "This one is from the family''s alchemy workshop. The quality is guaranteed, and it''s priced at nine Galleons and seven Sickles!"

    Bryan epted the binocrs. He was quite familiar with this versatile panoramic telescope, which could be modified for various uses. Skillfully adjusting the knobs, he ced it on the bridge of his nose, close to his eye sockets, and carefully observed the image.

    "No, no..."

    After a while, Bryan set the binocrs down with disappointment in his voice.

    "What I need is the 190 model of the Shadow Chaser. It provides a clearer image and a longer trace-back time. The one you have is the 185 model, which doesn''t meet my purchasing requirements."

    Mr. Banges felt a sense of awe, realizing that he was dealing with an expert.

    "Unfortunately, sir, the high-precision Shadow Chaser 190 is usually only produced during the World Cup. We typically sell the 185 model. However, if you''re willing to purchase, I can offer you a discount on the price!"

    "How much of a discount can I get?"

    Bryan''s expression turned indifferent, showing no intention of giving up. He transformed into a shrewd buyer, ready to negotiate.

    "To be frank, nine Galleons is the cost price. Since you''re our first customer today, I can offer that price only!"

    Mr. Banges looked distressed.

    "¡ªWhat if I want to buy arge quantity?"

    "I''m sorry, sir, but that''s already our best price. Even if you ask for more, I can''t..."

    "I need three hundred pairs of panoramic binocrs." Bryan interrupted straightforwardly, a smile on his face. "Mr. Banges, you still have one more chance to give a quote. If you''re not satisfied with the price, I can check out another shop in the corner alley."

    "Three hundred?!"

    Mr. Banges widened his eyes in surprise, but quickly realized that his reaction wouldn''t help in the uing negotiation. Heposed himself and coughed twice.

    "That''s indeed a substantial quantity. I suppose a little extra discount is warranted."

    Mr. Banges carefully observed Bryan''s smiling face.

    "My lord, if you''re truly intent on buying that many, I think eight Galleons and ten silver Sickles would be a fair deal."

    Bryan frowned, seemingly dissatisfied.

    The cunning Mr. Banges immediately changed his tone and spoke decisively.

    "Seven Galleons and ten silver Sickles. You''re a knowledgeable wizard, and you understand what this price implies!"

    Without saying a word, Bryan turned around and headed for the door, preparing to Apparate.

    "Damn!"

    Mr. Banges eximed.

    "Alright, alright, six Galleons. Come back, sir. You''re the cleverest customer I''ve encountered this year!"

    Bryan put down his wand, turned, and smiled happily once again.

    "Alright, Mr. Banges, let''s discuss the delivery time!"

 017 Convincing Professor McGonagall(Bonus Chapter)

    017 Convincing Professor McGonagall(Bonus Chapter)

    The final price of the panoramic telescope was five Galleons and ten Sickles each, which was cheaper than Bryan''s price. Mr. Banges needed a whole week to prepare 600 pieces, including the telescopes.

    When Bryan was sent away, Mr. Banges seemed distraught, as if he had lost a significant amount of money.

    Bryan realized that he may have overreacted a bit. Generally, the cost of most magical items and alchemy tools is around 40% to 50% of the selling price. After factoring in taxation and operating costs, the profit margin wouldn''t exceed 60% at most. So, Mr. Banges wouldn''t be at a loss.

    Negotiating the final seven Sickles was quite challenging, and it was alreadyte morning when Bryan left the magic supply shop.

    Standing in the street, basking in the bright sunshine, Bryan relished the rare moment offort. Since graduating, he had rarely experienced such a rxed and unhurried pace of life.

    "There''s still a tougher negotiation ahead," Bryan thought to himself.

    After a while, he took a deep breath and looked at the castle towering under the blue sky and white clouds. There was someone waiting for him to persuade, and he anticipated that the negotiation process wouldn''t be particrly smooth.

    Just before noon, around 10:30, Bryan returned to Hogwarts Castle. To avoid interrupting lunchtime, he hurriedly ascended the marble stairs and deftly maneuvered across the moving stairs to reach the second floor, where the Gryffindor students were active.

    He heard heated argumentsing from the other end of the corridor. Bryan strained to listen but couldn''t make out any words. Due to his haste, he quickly turned toward the other side of the corridor and approached the door to the adjacent office.

    "Pleasee in," came a stern voice from behind the door. It triggered a memory in Bryan''s mind, and he smiled faintly as he twisted the doorknob and entered.

    Professor McGonagall''s office was smaller than Snape''s, with walls adorned with stacks of documents, young wizards'' homework, and teaching aids used in ss.

    Her desk, much smaller, was positioned by the window overlooking the Quidditch pitch.

    Upon Bryan''s entry, Professor McGonagall, who had been working at her desk, turned around after dialing the ck mirror frame. Her tightly pursed lips softened a bit when she saw who it was.

    "You look much more mature than three years ago. I almost didn''t recognize you," Professor McGonagall remarked, getting up and assessing Snape''s favored student before her. Her expression was much gentler than when dealing with the younger wizards.

    To be honest, prior to Bryan''s fifth year, their interactions were limited to a few exchanges in the ssroom and the approval of his bursary application each year. The unassuming Slytherin wizard hadn''t received much special attention.

    However, everything changed on the night before Christmas during Bryan''s fifth year.

    That night, Bryan Watson drastically shifted Professor McGonagall''s evaluation of him in a very short period. Her extreme disgust had transformed into extreme gratitude.

    Since then, she had kept a close eye on Bryan''s progress.

    "It''s been a while, Professor McGonagall," Bryan greeted with a sincere smile. "Compared to three years ago, you haven''t changed much."

    While Professor McGonagall scrutinized Bryan, he returned the favor with a smile. His previousment had been a mere polite ttery. Honestly, Professor McGonagall had aged and appeared more human. She had lost weight and acquired several more gray hairs.

    It couldn''t be helped. She had the misfortune of dealing with a "responsible" headmaster like Albus Dumbledore.

    The room''s window was open, allowing a faint scent of violet wine to permeate the air. Professor McGonagall guided Bryan to take a seat while she walked to the firece, retrieving the teapot from the shelf.

    "Last night, Headmaster Dumbledore left me a message, informing me that the school board has sent you back to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall began, a trace of dissatisfaction evident in her tone, although it wasn''t clear whom she was ming.

    "Regardless, Bryan, wee back to school!"

    Bryan took a sip of the tea. Unsurprisingly, its bitterness made his scalp tingle. It seemed Professor McGonagall had brewed the tea to stay alert. He calmly put down the teacup without desiring another sip.

    "Thank you, Professor McGonagall. I''m also d to have this opportunity to return to Hogwarts. You know, many young wizards dream ofing back here a few years after graduation and reliving their carefree campus days."

    "Yes, there are numerous fond memories associated with this ce," Professor McGonagall acknowledged, her mood lightening. Her shoulders seemed less tense.

    "That being said, if I recall correctly, this is only the second time we''ve had a face-to-face conversation, right?" Bryan inquired, reflecting on their past encounters.

    Bryan nodded slightly, reminiscing about that time.

    "You''re correct. It was during thetter half of my fifth year when we spoke. You advised me not to intentionally make mistakes in my homework and encouraged me to demonstrate my true abilities. Oh, I apologize, Professor, I admit I was somewhat peculiar back then."

    "Snape mentioned to me in private that you have a preference for staying out of the limelight. But now, it''s your responsibility to persuade me, Bryan"

    Professor McGonagall didn''t mind chatting with Bryan for a while to get to know him better, which was exactly her duty as the school''s vice-principal.

    Unfortunately, she had a lot on her te that day. While other professors were still enjoying their Christmas vacations, she had to handle Hogwarts'' daily affairs, n the uing year''s curriculum, draft sry adjustments for various subject professors, and review several Transfiguration papers eagerly awaiting her feedback.

    Due to these pressing matters, she had to make time for a meeting even though she initially intended to meet Bryan after dinner.

    "...Headmaster Dumbledore instructed me to arrange amodation and an office for you," Professor McGonagall continued, her lips tightening as her expression grew solemn.

    "I had originally nned to discuss this with youter, but this morning, when I encountered Professor Snape, he mentioned your ns in passing. Itpelled me to have this conversation sooner. Ideally, this matter should have been handled by Headmaster Dumbledore, but... well, let''s not dwell on that," she said, her mood souring. Taking a deep breath, her eyes sharpened as she asked sharply,

    "I''m not questioning the feasibility of your n, Bryan. My concern is whether this n is truly appropriate¡ªmonitoring the daily lives of young wizards in search of the heir to the Chamber of Secrets."

    /FicFrenzy

 018 Request

    018 Request

    Bryan understood the concerns of Professor McGonagall. He didn''t reply immediately but meditated quietly. After a while, he raised his head and calmly met Professor McGonagall''s stern gaze.

    "The crux of the matter, Professor, lies in trade-offs," Bryan began.

    Professor McGonagall twitched her lips, surprised by Bryan''s unexpected response.

    "Choice," Bryan continued, "We all acknowledge the crisis that Hogwarts is currently facing. We don''t want to witness such a disastrous oue. But if the current dire situation cannot always be mitigated... even¡ª"

    Bryan noticed a flicker of uncertainty in Professor McGonagall''s piercing eyes and spoke calmly, "Under the circumstances where the heir to the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets remains unidentified, the petrification of the two young wizards will not mark the end of this series of events. Someone else will undoubtedly be targeted next. Professor McGonagall, can you guarantee that it will only result in petrification?"

    Professor McGonagall''s eyes flickered several times, and her breathing grew heavier.

    "Though reality may be bloody and cruel, we must confront it, for escaping cannot solve any problems," Bryan reasoned.

    "I understand, Bryan¡ª"

    As the word "kill" was uttered, Professor McGonagall''s frail figure trembled. She wiped her nose and her tough exterior began to crumble.

    "Dumbledore hasn''t explicitly said anything, but I could sense his concerns regarding the scenario you described. However, Bryan, we are not the Ministry of Magic, and we do not possess the authority to¡ª"

    "The rights and privileges of freedom pale inparison to preserving noble lives," Bryan interjected, his voice growing assertive.

    "Iprehend the school''s concerns, Professor. Yes, I can envision the criticism that Hogwarts would face if the young wizards, their families, or public opinion were to discover that Hogwarts is monitoring their every move. However, I don''t believe it matters. If our actions can save... even if it''s just one child''s life, then the doubts borne by the school, no matter how numerous, will be worthwhile."

    Professor McGonagall fell silent, wrestling with her conflicting thoughts. The principles she had always upheld and her sound reasoning waged a fierce battle within her mind.

    "If I were to follow my initial idea, Professor McGonagall," Bryan said, rubbing his stomach, feeling a bit hungry, "we could gather everyone in the school in the auditorium. We could employ Legilimency or Veritaserum individually in the entrance hall, and if no issues arise, we could proceed to the dormitories and remain there. Perhaps, it wouldn''t take a day to resolve this matter."

    "Absolutely not!" Professor McGonagall eximed suddenly, rmed by Bryan''s audacious n. She swiftly refused, "Such an approach would gravely vite thew, Bryan. If we were to proceed, Hogwarts might be forced to close even before the heir makes a move!"

    Bryan shrugged innocently, wearing an expression of innocence. "It was just an idea, Professor. I had no intention of actually implementing it."

    Professor McGonagall finally acquiesced, as it was inevitable unless she could devise an effective n in the uing semester. Hogwarts Castle housed countless corridors, towers, and dormitories. It was impossible for the student body to bolster patrols.

    Moreover, who''s to say prefects and professors wouldn''t be targeted? If such a situation were to ur, not to mention the young wizards, there weren''t many within the school who possessed sufficient strength to handle such dangerous circumstances.

    "Let''s keep it discreet, Bryan. Some of the young wizards... especially those from Gryffindor House... tend to be more adventurous," Professor McGonagall cautioned, carefully choosing her words.

    Bryan nodded in acknowledgment, while Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, seemingly unaware of the trouble caused by some Gryffindor House students.

    "Would you like to join me for dinner, Professor McGonagall?" Bryan asked cheerfully, now that the matter had been settled. He extended an invitation for them to dine together in the auditorium.

    "No, I still have many matters to attend to. I''ll have the house-elves prepare something for meter," Professor McGonagall declined, rising from her seat. However, just as Bryan was about to reach the door, Professor McGonagall seemed to recall something and quickly halted him. She appeared slightly distressed as she confronted the puzzled Bryan.

    "There''s something that just urred to me, Bryan. I haven''t had the chance to consult with Headmaster Dumbledore, but perhaps you can assist..."

    Bryan blinked, surprised by Professor McGonagall''s uncharacteristic hesitance. What problem had left her so visibly flustered?

    "Have you ever heard of Gilderoy Lockhart?" Professor McGonagall asked, wearing an amused yet frustrated expression.

    "If you mean the bestselling author..." Bryan replied, taken aback. "Yes, I have indeed heard of him, Professor. His books are quite famous. I''ve seen people reading about his thrilling adventures in various European countries. I''ve even read them myself. They are truly entertaining. Is it that you want to ask if I can obtain his autograph?"

    "That''s quite alright!" Professor McGonagall shook her head vigorously, as if trying to ward off pesky mosquitoes. Annoyed, she exined, "He''s currently teaching at another school and was invited by Headmaster Dumbledore."

    "Oh!" Bryan eximed, realizing that Professor McGonagall didn''t hold the star writer in high regard. His eyes widened with curiosity.

    "I bet he must be quite popr among young wizards... So?"

    "Well..." Professor McGonagall hesitated, revealing an unusually cautious demeanor. "He may possess... I mean, he has some experience in writing books, but he... well, he doesn''t seem particrly skilled at teaching, you know, Bryan. The second half of the fifth year is crucial for OWL exams, and the seventh year entails the NEWTs, which are highly significant and influence the future of young wizards. Several students have approached me, expressing their inability to receive any guidance or improvement from Professor Lockhart... So, I thought..."

    Professor McGonagall looked at Bryan with anticipation, hoping he could assist.

    Bryan furrowed his brow. His primary objective at Hogwarts was to locate the Chamber of Secrets and obtain the Slytherin legacy within it. His approach involved monitoring the young wizards and observing those who disyed questionable behavior.

    As a result, he had to remain confined to the monitoring room all day, unable to venture outside.

    "¡ªIf you''re willing, I can discuss it with Headmaster Dumbledore and arrange for payment equivalent to an official professor''s sry."

    Bribing me with money is not your style, Professor McGonagall! Bryan thought indignantly.

    "There''s no need for me to grade assignments... By the way, which subject does Professor Lockhart teach? Apologies, I''m not particrly adept at Divination... Oh, has Professor Kettleburn retired?"

    "It''s not Divination or Care of Magical Creatures, Bryan..." Professor McGonagall adopted an unusual caution, her voice trailing off. "Well, it''s... Defense Against the Dark Arts."

    Boom!

    Bryan swiftly turned around, hurriedly opening the door.

    "Sorry, goodbye!" he eximed, leaving abruptly.

 019 Strange Hagrid

    019 Strange Hagrid

    The rumors about the curse on Hogwarts'' Defense Against the Dark Arts ss by the Dark Lord were not baseless. During Bryan''s time as a student at Hogwarts, he had never seen a Defense Against the Dark Arts professorplete their one-year term without some sort of misfortune. Many of the professors ended up in St. Mungo''s Hospital, seamlessly transitioning from Hogwarts to medical care without dy.

    Although Professor McGonagall had only invited Bryan to be a teaching assistant, it didn''t mean there was no risk involved. Bryan didn''t want to spend his hard-earned money helping St. Mungo''s Hospital improve its performance.

    Most of the preparation work was already done, but Bryan still had plenty to do. During the week when Mr. Banges prepared the panoramic binocrs, Bryan had to familiarize himself with the castle once again. He needed to close off certain remote areas that wouldn''t affect the daily lives and education of the young wizards and professors.

    Additionally, Bryan had to design specific monitoring points based on the castle''s architectural structure and create a surveincework without blind spots. ording to his n, all activity areas, except for private spaces like bathrooms; the ssrooms,mon rooms and hallways, needed to be monitored.

    In theory, Bryan could easily add sound monitoring to the panoramic binocrs. However, he abandoned that idea after considering the potential objections from professors. It was a bit excessive, and he doubted many of them would agree to such a scheme.

    "Hagrid, you must be hiding something!"

    Bryan''s contemtion was interrupted by a sudden shout from the other end of the corridor. As far as he knew, there weren''t many students staying at Hogwarts during the Christmas holiday.

    "Stop asking nonsense, Harry and Ron!" came a rough voice, sounding a little impatient. "I''m not keeping any secrets!"

    Harry, Ron, and Hagrid? Bryan raised an eyebrow and looked in their direction. Was that clear voice just now Harry Potter''s?

    Was he finally going to meet the protagonist from this world? Bryan''s heart involuntarily beat faster with curiosity and anticipation.

    "Did you know, Hagrid, your eyes wander when you lie!" Harry and Ron pressed themselves tightly behind Hagrid and questioned, "You just said downstairs that you were going to ask Headmaster Dumbledore about , Watson, who works as a Ministry of Magic investigator, but you suddenly changed your mind inexplicably after going upstairs. Why, Hagrid?"

    "And you look really scared!" Ron pointed out sharply.

    An investigator from the Ministry of Magic? Bryan scratched his head, full of doubts. When did he say that?

    "Why can''t you be honest, Hagrid?"

    Two figures emerged from the end of the corridor, with the boys quickly approaching the middle. Harry continued to persuade Hagrid to reveal the secret, as his keen intuition told him that whatever Hagrid was hiding must be crucial.

    "Hey, Harry!"

    Ron noticed Bryan first. He grabbed Harry''s robe and whispered, "Look over there, who is that man?"

    Hagrid suddenly stopped, causing Harry to bump his head into Hagrid''s waist, where a tough dragon leather belt seemed to be tied, causing him some difort in his nose.

    "Why did you stop all of a sudden, Hagrid?"

    Harry rubbed his crooked nose and muttered, standing behind Hagrid, "Did you change your mind again?"

    Hagrid didn''t answer. Interestingly, his face behind the bushy beard, weathered by years of exposure to the sun, turned extremely pale the moment he noticed Bryan. Sweat drops formed on his forehead, and hisrge hands fumbled on his upper body, as if checking his attire.

    "Watson, it''s you," Hagrid said with an ugly smile, looking at Bryan with an uneasy expression. He stammered, "Long time no see. I heard you''re working for the Ministry of Magic now. Congrauts. I mean, congrattions on finding a good job."

    Hagrid had been the Hogwarts gamekeeper for decades, witnessing the graduation of countless young wizards. In terms of experience, even the heads of the four houses were somewhat inferior to him. Naturally, Bryan wouldnot be unaware of him.

    However, there was no friendship between them. The only contact they had was when they searched the area where Bryan had defeated the dark witch under Dumbledore''s guidance after the incident before Christmas in their fifth year. They didn''t have any privatemunication after that, except for asional greetings when they ran into each other.

    But despite theck of friendship, there were no hard feelings either. So why was Hagrid showing such an expression upon seeing him? Hagrid also seemed unusually concerned about Bryan returning to Hogwarts as an investigator. Bryan was deeply puzzled.

    "It has been a while, Hagrid."

    Bryan furrowed his brow, not paying too much attention to Hagrid''s peculiar behavior for now. He looked at the freckled boy standing next to Hagrid and immediately recognized him. With his distinctive red hair, it was clear that he was one of the Weasley boys, just like Bill and Charlie.

    Bryan noticed the restraint in Ron''s eyes, which was understandable for a thirteen or fourteen-year-old wizard encountering an unfamiliar adult. But what puzzled Bryan was the mixture of longing and fear he sensed in Ron''s gaze.

    Perhaps he''s heard from his family about me defeating his two older brothers? Bryan wondered. As he was about to smile and greet Ron, a thin boy with messy hair and striking green eyes emerged from behind Hagrid. The familiarity of those eyes struck Bryan like a bolt of lightning, momentarily throwing him off bnce.

    Seeing Bryan about to fall, Hagrid hurriedly stepped forward to support him by the shoulders. "What''s the matter, Bryan? You''re acting like you''ve been hit with a stunning spell," Hagrid said with concern.

    Behind Hagrid, Harry and Ron exchanged nces, both aware of the astonishment in each other''s eyes. This Slytherin senior had once fended off a powerful dark wizard who invaded the school in fifth grade, and he had even fought against Dumbledore. Why did he now appear so weak?

    "Oh, thank you, Hagrid. I may be feeling a bit dizzy from getting up too early in the morning and being exposed to the cold wind. Can you loosen your grip on my shoulders? I feel like my shoulder des are about to break," Bryan replied, gently rubbing his temples as he tried to calm himself. Meanwhile, a sudden realization struck him, and he processed the information that had surfaced in his mind.

    "It seems..."

    After a while, Bryan started feeling better, and his face returned to normal. He smiled and looked at the young wizard before him, the one known as Harry Potter. His eyes finally settled on the scar on Harry''s forehead.

    "It appears I have indeede face-to-face with the famous Harry Potter," Bryan said, his voice carrying a mixture of surprise and intrigue.

    Since entering the wizarding world, Harry had grown ustomed to meeting strangers who showed great interest in his scars. However, knowing that this person was sent to Hogwarts to investigate the attack on the Chamber of Secrets and, he who was rumored to be the best candidate for the heir of Slytherin made Harry feel uneasy. He couldn''t shake off the feeling that at any moment, this man might pull out handcuffs from his pocket and arrest him¡ªan irrational thought influenced by his experiences with the Mugglew enforcement.

    "Oh, no," Harry corrected his own thinking, realizing the absurdity of his assumption. "That''s what Muggle police do. Wizards usually choose to confiscate the wand of the person whomitted the crime first."

    "Yes, Mr. Watson, you''re not mistaken," Harry replied, his unease growing due to Bryan''s unfocused gaze. He unconsciously sought refuge in Hagrid''s towering figure, but his sense of security wavered when he remembered Bryan''s "brilliant" record.

 020 The Lost Thing

    020 The Lost Thing

    "Say something, Harry!"

    Bryan, Hagrid, and Harry were lost in their thoughts, leaving Ron feeling anxious. He looked at Bryan curiously for a moment and then winked at Harry, trying to convey something. Ron was visibly restless, shifting his gaze between Bryan and Harry, his mind preupied.

    It was Bryan who broke the silence first. He nodded at Harry and smiled warmly.

    "Last night, I had a conversation with Professor Snape at his ce, and he shared his perspective on you," Bryan began, his words making Harry''s heart skip a beat. A chilling sensation ran through his body as if a cold hand had gripped his heart.

    Harry didn''t need to inquire further; he already knew the kind of evaluation Snape would have given him. Anxious, he clenched his fists, preparing himself to defend against whatever criticism wasing his way. But Bryan''s next words pulled him out of the abyss of fear.

    "However, those evaluations merely reflect Professor Snape''s personal opinions, which may not be objective. In my view, if you want to understand someone, you have to observe them with your own eyes. Blindly listening to others'' opinions is not advisable."

    Harry''s tense shoulders rxed as if a heavy burden had been lifted. Bryan''s words helped dispel his restlessness. He understood why he had been silent and guarded in front of Bryan¡ªfear of being judged. But now, with his worries alleviated, curiosity surged within him.

    "By the way, Hagrid, I forgot to mention that it was the Hogwarts School Board, not the Ministry of Magic, that assigned me to investigate the Chamber of Secrets," Bryan added.

    He exchanged a few words with the still apprehensive Hagrid and then swiftly made his way towards the staircase''s corner. Just as he disappeared from sight, Bryan remembered something and waved back at Hagrid, who stood tall and bewildered.

    Once Bryan''s footsteps had fadedpletely, the trio in front of the stairs collectively released a sigh of relief. Ron couldn''t contain his excitement and immediately voiced his opinion.

    "He''s really intimidating, isn''t he?" Ron''s ears turned red, and he looked positively thrilled. "When he looks at me, it feels like I am facing Dumbledore himself. He may appear friendly, but you can''t let your guard down! He''s definitely different!"

    Harry nodded in agreement, still reeling from the impact of Bryan''s prating gaze. Hepared it in his mind to Dumbledore''s unwavering eyes, trying to gauge where Bryan stood inparison.

    "I never thought a Slytherin-born wizard could be so polite when talking to people. It''s not like their usual cunning or sarcasm, right, Hagrid?" Harry mused.

    Hagrid didn''t respond to Harry''s question. His cheeks puffed up, and he stared nkly at the corner of the stairs, resembling a person trying to chew on a dead rat.

    "Ah, what a delightful misunderstanding!" Hagrid suddenly eximed, startling Harry and Ron. Before they couldin, Hagrid beamed at them.

    "I get it now. It''s the school board, not the Ministry of Magic. They probably just want to handle it themselves!"

    "What are you talking about, Hagrid?" Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled nces, and Ron furrowed his brow. "Why be so secretive?"

    "I told you, Ron!" Hagrid wagged a finger yfully. "I have no secrets from you... Well, sorry, Harry, but I''ve got to get back now. Fang''s waiting for me at home, and I don''t want him tearing up my bed because he''s hungry!"

    When passing by the hall, Bryan stopped and nced at the auditorium. Professor Snape seemed to have left the school. After returning to his small office, Professor McGonagall was still busy, and the auditorium was empty. However, at the Slytherin dining table, Bryan noticed two young wizards huddled together, engrossed in their meal. Unaware of Bryan''s presence, they continued eating and drinking.

    Bryan''s own appetite grew stronger as he watched the two students enjoy their food. He rubbed his belly absentmindedly but decided not to interrupt them. Instead, he headed towards the basement passageway, which he had traversed countless times during his seven years at Hogwarts. Even after three years of absence, the memories of thebyrinthine underground passage were deeply ingrained in him, guiding him effortlessly.

    However, upon reaching a dark brown stone wall, Bryan smacked his forehead in frustration. He had forgotten the password. He weighed his options: wait for someone to enter or exit, seek help from the two Slytherin students in the auditorium, or choose a different path. Opting for thetter, Bryan muttered, "Glory¡ª"

    To his disappointment, nothing happened. He continued to guess the password, trying phrases like "The Holy Family" and "Emerald" until finallynding on "Pure blood?" The stone door responded with a resounding click, opening before him.

    Chuckling to himself, Bryan remarked, "Ho ho, it''s the same old routine!" With a satisfied smile, he stepped through the stone wall and observed the changes in the Slytherinmon room.

    Situated deep underground and adjacent to the ck Lake, themon room exuded an eerie green atmosphere, apanied by a faint scent of water and grass. Even the flickering firece failed to dispel its eerie and treacherous ambiance.

    "I thought I would have to wait at least two hours before seeing you all return," azy voice sounded from a high-back chair positioned in front of the firece, its back turned to the door. The voice carried a hint of venom.

    "Could it be that the two of you finally managed to bring Hogwarts down?" the voice continued.

    "I believe you must be Draco Malfoy," Bryan calmly replied.

    ng!

    The moment Draco heard Bryan''s voice, he dropped his quill and swiftly threw himself behind a nearby sofa, brandishing his wand as hended.

    "Who are you, and how did you get in!" Draco demanded, his face contorted with surprise and apprehension.

    Bryan''s eyelids twitched slightly, taken aback by Draco''s immediate reaction. Ignoring the wand pointed at him, he smiled and said, "Don''t be nervous, Mr. Malfoy. My name is Bryan Watson... well, I can sit down and exin, Mr. Malfoy."

    Within twenty minutes, Bryan recounted his background to Draco. The young wizard''s eyes sparkled as he tilted his chin, seemingly evaluating Bryan''s worth, like a test for a potential servant.

    "Did my father send you here? You should know that he is one of the twelve board members of this school. Odd, I thought he would have found a way to drive old man Dumbledore out, and yet he sends you instead?" Draco questioned, his excitement palpable.

    Bryan''s nonchnt demeanor towards the young Mr. Malfoy was not surprising, considering his experience within the pure-blood wizardingmunity.

    However, Lucius Malfoy nning to oust Dumbledore from the school intrigued Bryan. It was interesting news indeed. Perhaps that was why he had voted against the Greengrass family during the board''s decision¡ªto prevent anyone from ruining his ns regarding Dumbledore.

    "By the way... since you''re the investigator!" Draco''s pale face flushed suddenly, as if he had just remembered something important. "The Saint Potter of Gryffindor is none other than the legendary Heir of Slytherin. I assume you''ve heard of him!"

    Excitedly, Draco stood up, wide-eyed, and stared at Bryan. "Watson, what authority do you possess? Can you expel students? If you help me get him expelled, I can convince my father to reward you handsomely!"

    Bryan was ustomed to such arrogance, leaning back in his chair, his tone wavering with amusement as he replied, "If I understand correctly, Mr. Malfoy, you''re reporting to me that Harry Potter is the heir of Slytherin, aren''t you?"

    "I didn''t say that," Draco muttered, seemingly unaware that Bryan''s smile had faded. "Is a wretch who associates with mudbloods and willingly descends to their level worthy of any connection to the great Slytherin?"

    Bryan''s interest was piqued by Draco''s distinct "personality" within the ranks of pure-blood wizard descendants.

    "However, does that truly matter?" Bryan remarked. Draco turned abruptly, his anger manifesting as he waved his arms vehemently. "Watson, I only need Potter to leave the school. If you require a reason, I can provide one¡ªhe''s a Parseltongue. I believe you know what that means!"

    "Ahh..." Bryan sat up straight, his eyes gleaming. Snape hadn''t mentioned this to him the previous night. Since all the young wizards in Slytherin knew the news, there was no reason for Snape to withhold it.

    "You''ve shared something intriguing, Mr. Malfoy," Bryan nodded at Draco. "However, I regret to inform you that I don''t have the authority to expel students. Furthermore, until the perpetrator behind the attacks on Creevey and Fletchley is identified, I won''t suggest Dumbledore to expel anyone."

    "You weren''t sent by my father," Draco stated coldly, realizing that Bryan seemed unaffiliated with him.

    "In that case, what are you doing here?" Draco mocked. "Do you suspect me of opening the Chamber of Secrets? Are you nning to send me to Azkaban?"

    Bryan smiled as he stood up. "Actually, it''s embarrassing to admit... When I was a student here, I seem to have secretly hidden something in the dormitory. I''m not sure why, but I was reminded of it just now, after being stimted..."

    /FicFrenzy

 021 Fate

    021 Fate

    After confirming that his order was useless to Bryan Watson, Malfoy''s eyes turned cold. He didn''t want to talk to him at all; he just wanted to go back and finish his letter. But for some reason, when Watson, who had the title of investigator on his body, politely said goodbye and walked to the dormitory, Malfoy still followed behind him.

    "I have to keep an eye on you, Watson, in case anyone finds out that they have lost their valuables when school starts!"

    When Bryan noticed Draco Malfoy falling behind him and was surprised, Malfoy said viciously, "I dare not vouch for someone with an unknown background!"

    "Your statement is very reasonable, Mr. Malfoy. Then please help me as a witness."

    Bryan nodded and didn''t bother with him anymore.

    There are many vacant dormitories in the dormitory buildings of each house. Whenever a young wizard graduates, the dormitory they have lived in for seven years bes vacant. However, these dormitories may not be put into use immediately and may remain vacant for up to two years until newly enrolled young wizards move in.

    "This is my dormitory!"

    So when Watson stopped in front of his dormitory door, Draco''s face turned as ck as ink.

    "Oh, is that so?" Bryan raised his eyebrows. "That was really a lucky coincidence, which saved me from having to use violence to open the door. So... Mr. Malfoy, can you please help me open it? Is there a door?"

    Although reluctant, Malfoy was still curious about what was hidden in his dormitory since he hade this far. He seemed to perceive that Bryan wasn''t a wealthy person, so he threatened viciously, "If you break something, I will make you pay for it!"

    The dormitory had changed a lot since Bryan attended school, but the position of the bed hadn''t changed much. After analyzing it carefully for a while, he walked toward the spot near the window.

    Outside the window was the ck Lake, rippling with silver-green waves all year round. It was an excellent view. When he first entered Hogwarts, he didn''t live there. However, since the Christmas holidays of his fifth year, he couldn''t resist the ardent invitation of several roommates in the same dormitory, and he was ''forced'' to move there.

    The little wizard who had lived there before was probably very wealthy. Bryan noticed thetest broom from the Nimbus series leaning against the headboard, and the bedding, not provided uniformly by the school, was made of gold silk and woven with the finest velvet.

    "Oh, it looks really magnificent--"

    Bryan observed the exquisite living utensils near the bed with great interest. When he turned around to ask whom the bed belonged to, he noticed Draco Malfoy''s ckened face, and his doubts were answered.

    "It seems that the two of us must be destined, Mr. Malfoy."

    "I can see that you''re a liar," Malfoy said with certainty. "I''ve lived in this bed for almost two years, and I haven''t noticed anything wrong at all!"

    "Maybe you didn''t observe carefully enough, Mr. Malfoy."

    Bryan knew that Malfoy might not like him very much, so he didn''t intend to stay for too long. He picked up the broomstick from the bed and threw it to Malfoy, telling him to wait at the door.

    "Do you think I''ll snatch your things?"

    "Not really," Bryan replied, shaking his wand out from his cuff. "To ensure that the important items I''ve ced here won''t be mistakenly taken, I''ll spare you the trouble. It might get a bit noisy when you handle itter, but don''t worry, Mr. Malfoy. I promise, with my life and property, to protect your safety." Bryan raised his wand and approached Malfoy''s luxurious bed.

    "Do you think I''ll believe you?"

    Malfoy frowned in disgust and walked over slowly.

    Bryan focused on the ground, staring at the rough rock brick wall. He counted from the side near the window, and after counting to the seventh brick, he fixated on the gap between it and the eighth brick. Then, he moved the bedside table with his wand and directed his gaze downward. Counting seven more bricks from the inside to the outside, he reached one-third of the length of the bed.

    Squatting down, he swiped his wand across his arm, and steaming red blood sprayed out, sprinkling onto the dark blue floor tiles.

    "What are you doing!"

    Malfoy frowned in disgust and approached slowly.

    "The magic you''re using to protect things looks like dark magic?"

    Bryan focused on the ground and stared at the blood he had spilled. The blood on the bluestone bricks was squirming strangely, influenced by an external force. It desperately seeped into the ground until a small pale golden snake with its head held high emerged from the center of the brick.

    "Don''t use such unprofessional words, Mr. Malfoy. They might make me mistakenly think that you''re not a student of Slytherin House."

    The appearance of the golden snake confirmed that Bryan''s protective magic had seeded. In a good mood, Bryan teased Malfoy, who seemed to be displeased.

    "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. If you don''t want to wait outside the door, then be prepared and don''t get frightened by what you''ll see inside."

    Malfoy wanted to mock him with a few words, but they fell short. He refrained from saying anything. Suddenly, he felt that the Bryan Watson in front of him seemed somewhat sinister. However, his pride wouldn''t allow him to be easily frightened. After hesitating for a moment, he didn''t move from his spot.

    Bryan didn''t bother Malfoy any further. He picked up his wand, pointed it at the little golden snake, and as he chanted the spell, the magic in the air thickened, gradually darkening the already dim room.

    <em>Hiss~</em>

    The golden snake stuck out its tongue and stretched its body. It swayed from side to side, swimming around the edge of the brick where it resided. Its speed was as fast as a shadow. Finally, it returned to its original position, and its figure gradually dimmed until it disappeared.

    After many twists and turns, a beam of light suddenly shed across the surface of the dark blue brick. Then, the brick opened outward along the crack in the middle, revealing a two-foot-deep ck hole.

    After waiting for a few seconds, the room remained silent. Unable to contain his curiosity, Malfoy leaned in, and when he saw the small object on the stone box at the bottom of the cavity, his expression froze for a moment. Then, he gritted his teeth and grinned.

    "So, the big news you were talking about is a fist-sized spider?"

    Malfoy sneered mockingly, "And this spider seems to be dead, Watson. Couldn''t it be a little pet you kept at school, and you went through all this trouble to find a burial ce for it?"

    "I have a different opinion, Mr. Malfoy. I think this spider is still alive."

    Bryan stared at the motionless spider on the box''s lid. Calmly, he stepped back. "It may have just been in the dark environment for too long, and it might need some stimtion to¡ª" Bryan pointed his wand at the spider, and a cool breeze materialized.

    As he predicted, when the breeze brushed over the spider''s bristle-like fine leg hairs, the spider with its eight legs tucked into its belly suddenly reacted. It raised its ugly head, and its eight green eyes spun wildly.

    "¡ªSo, it worked."

    <em>Swish!</em>

    Before Malfoy could finish speaking, the spider''s eight legs suddenly extended. Its jumping ability was astonishing. Its fist-sized body leaped andnded on the ceiling. Then, in a blurred blur, the spider that had been confined for four or five years finally regained its original size!

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    When the spidernded on the ground, the dormitory shook as if the sky were copsing. Its huge body crushed the two beds in the center of the room into pieces!

    <strong>Click, click, click!</strong>

    The spider, which Bryan had imprisoned for five or six years, frantically moved its mouthparts. If it could speak, Bryan believed it would be hurling curses at him and his ancestors for generations toe!

    Driven by endless violence and anger, the spider, now freed, couldn''t remain silent for a moment. Its two terrifying big ck pincers swung desperately in the air, supported by six slender, hard-haired legs. The huge body wreaked havoc in the room, and after a while, there were hardly any intact objects left, except for Malfoy''s bed.

    <strong>Click!</strong>

    In the end, the enraged spider embedded all six feet into the solid rock wall. It sat beneath the ceiling on the other side of the room, looking down with its eight eyes at Bryan, who had subjected it to inhuman torture. Its mouth was wide open, ready for a desperate fight!

    "Hey, long time no see, Little Eight Eyes!"

    Bryan waved his wand with his right hand. "I''m d to see you''re still full of energy!"

    "What have you done?"

    Malfoy, who had been paralyzed on the ground, stared at Bryan with a dazed expression. Then, in a sudden burst of energy, his extremely pale face turned flushed. He shot up from the ground like a sh of lightning, roaring at Bryan.

    "How dare you hide something like this next to my bed, Watson! I''m going to tell my father everything, and you better pack up and leave before tomorrow!"

 022 Polite Malfoy

    022 Polite Malfoy

    In the face of Draco Malfoy''s seething rage, Bryan remained remarkably calm. He innocently shrugged his shoulders, turned his head to look at Malfoy, and remarked, "What a pity. I thought you would find it rather cute!"

    Malfoy was taken aback by the audacity of such a suggestion. How could anyone perceive this creepy, dangerous creature as anything other than repulsive? He wanted to refute Bryan''s im, but before he could speak, the eight-eyed spider, fueled by its relentless desire for revenge, seized the opportunity for a sneak attack. With a thunderous whoosh, its massive body soared through the air, its eightpound eyes fixated on its target.

    Malfoy''s pupils contracted, and time seemed to slow down as he opened his mouth, but his words barely escaped his lips. The spider''s lethal limbs, poised to strike, sent shivers down his spine. He braced himself for the impending doom, convinced that he would meet a gruesome end.

    Just when Malfoy believed his fate was sealed, Bryan, oblivious to the imminent danger, swiftly turned around and brandished his wand. The tip of the wand emitted a faint light as it descended like a woodcutter''s axe. In that dimly lit room, a ck wall of energy materialized, resembling a razor-sharp de, positioned to intercept the oing eight-eyed spider.

    The spider''s emerald green eyes betrayed a subtle change. Sensing the impending danger, it desperately attempted to wedge its thin limbs into the energy wall to halt its momentum. However, its previous leap had been too forceful, and the spider couldn''t resist the powerful inertia of its own colossal body. With no time to react, it resorted to shielding itself with its tworge ck mastiffs, hoping to mitigate the impending damage.

    With a resounding crash, the sky was filled with a torrential downpour of ck fragments. The spider, cleaved in half, crashed heavily onto the ground, its green entrails, intestines, and bodily fluids mingling in a grotesque disy.

    Malfoy stood petrified behind the milky white mask conjured by Bryan, his gaze fixed on the spider now split in two. The fading clicks of the two ck mastiffs echoed in his ears, resembling the anguished cries and usations of impending death. Uncontrobly, Malfoy''s legs trembled.

    "Apologies, Mr. Malfoy, for the mess in your dormitory. I assure you, I''ll help clean upter," Bryan apologized, dispelling his magic shield. He approached the spider''s lifeless carcass, unperturbed by the lingering hatred in itspound eyes. With his fingers, he prodded its mouthparts as if searching for something. After a while, a hint of regret colored his expression. "I forgot again, Mr. Malfoy. I had already collected the venom... It appears that theck of food and exercise has slowed down the recovery of the eight-eyed spider''s venom."

    Malfoy''s body trembled violently, and he averted his gaze, resenting the fact that he had treated Bryan to afternoon tea, consuming one too many biscuits, and unknowingly providing him with a firsthand understanding of fear and strength.

    "What kind of magic was that?" Malfoy''s voice trembled involuntarily.

    Bryan momentarily looked up, his expression one of astonishment. "What?" he asked, struggling to hear clearly.

    "The magic you used just now¡ªthe one that killed this... creature, the spider," Malfoy rified, his tone still shaky.

    "Oh!" Bryan lowered his head once more, continuing his search for valuable organs. He replied nonchntly, "I didn''t give it a name, Malfoy. If you''d like, I can bestow the naming rights upon you... !"

    Expressing his disappointment, Bryan stood up and walked toward a stone box. However, he didn''t hastily retrieve its contents. Instead, he rummaged through the bag he carried, searching for something. After a few seconds, he procured a ss bottle containing a dark green potion.

    As soon as the seemingly unremarkable stone box made contact with the potion, a pungent white smoke wafted into the air, as if the potion itself had evaporated due to its extreme heat.

    Noticing Malfoy''s violent trembling, Bryan kindly exined, "I''ve applied both a highly poisonous potion and a tracking spell to the box. Casual contact with it would spell significant trouble for you."

    Malfoy wondered to himself whether applying the tracking spell was necessary, given that the highly poisonous potion had already been administered. However, hecked the courage to voice his thoughts.

    "Alright!"

    Bryan picked up the stone box, his tone bing rxed as he surveyed the mess around him. With a vigorous swing of his wand, the copsed beds and shattered cabs jumped back to their positions one by one. Broken personal utensils returned to their original shape in mid-air, feathers drilled back into cushions and bedding, and damaged books repaired themselves and returned to their original positions, neatly arranged. The magicmp on the ceiling shimmered again, and the green blood sttered on Bryan''s robe and sweater transformed into a writhing liquid before twisting its way back into the eight-eyed spider''s belly.

    With another wave of his wand, the spider''s corpse turned into a puff of smoke and dissipated. In the blink of an eye, the dormitory was once again clean andfortable.

    "Then, thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Malfoy," Bryan said, tucking the box under his armpit. He spoke cheerfully, "I don''t think you would mind keeping today''s affairs a secret, would you?"

    Malfoy stood stiffly, nodding mechanically. "I''ll keep it a secret for you... Mr. Watson."

    "Thank you!" Bryan nodded politely, then turned and left.

    Draco Malfoy remained beside his bed, lost in a daze. He looked around at the familiar dormitory, finding no evidence of what had just transpired. Everything felt like a dream, as if it had never happened.

    Ten minutester, a realization struck him, causing his pale cheeks to flush red. He dashed out of the dormitory, bounding down the spiral staircase and into the mansion''s lounge. Bryan had already left, and he was once again alone. Malfoy rushed to the table beside the firece, where his half-written lettery undisturbed. Grabbing the paper, he crumpled it into a tight ball and threw it into the mes.

    Amidst the rising fire, Malfoy retrieved a fresh piece of parchment from his schoolbag and hastily returned to his desk...

    As night fell, Bryan stood outside a long-abandoned ssroom on the third floor. This room had been assigned to him as an office by Professor McGonagall, serving as his living quarters during his time at Hogwarts.

    The house-elves had meticulously cleaned the space, imbuing the air with a pleasant musky scent, devoid of any traces of decay. The room''s furnishings were minimal, with most of the area left unadorned. However, near the innermost section, a bed, desk, bookshelf, and wardrobe had been arranged. Considering the prolonged winter weather, the thoughtful house-elves had even installed a firece.

    Bryan casually closed the door and entered the warm room. Carved windows faced Hagrid''s hut and the Forbidden Forest, offering a faint glimpse of the Quidditch pitch.

    A steady glow emanated from the candlestick on the desk. Bryan approached it, neatly arranging quills, ink, and other supplies. On the right side of the desk, he ced a photograph of himself and Grandma Ferrena. The image captured them during Bryan''s fourth-year summer vacation, just before his fifth-year, at a photo studio across from the orphanage.

    Little did they know it would be their final photograph together.

 023 Memories

    023 Memories

    On a clear night, the sky was filled with shining stars, resembling countless bright silver beads embedded in the dark night.

    However, the moonlight, which should have been bright and clear, held a strange elegance. In the hazy light and mist, it possessed an abnormal redness, as if a blood-stained hand had gently brushed across it.

    A gust of brisk wind rushed from the vast and boundless Forbidden Forest towards the castle. It gently pushed open Bryan Watson''s window, allowing the red-tinged moonlight to sneak in and cast a bright red halo on the dormitory''s dark brown floor.

    The stone box ced on the desk was halfway open. The box seemed to possess the power to devour light, as no trace of the candlelight escaped when it hit the box. The other half of the box remained in darkness, making it impossible to see whaty inside. Something significant had transpired.

    Leaning back in his chair, Bryan Watson focused his eyes on the thumb-sized ss bottle he held between his fingers. The silver mist within the bottle shimmered and rotated, resembling a gxy in motion.

    This was a bottle containing stripped memories. The memories belonged to Bryan Watson, but he couldn''t recall when he had left this behind.

    Earlier that morning, when he encountered Harry Potter, a message had automatically surfaced in Bryan''s mind. The message informed him that he had hidden something vital beneath the dormitory''s floor. Once the memories were recovered, he needed to retrieve it immediately. The trigger for the message was seeing Harry Potter with his own eyes.

    "Why did I set such a condition back then?" Bryan pondered, staring at the captivating silver mist. Suddenly, his heart quickened, and he thought of a possibility.

    "Could it be that these memories are rted to the plot of Harry Potter? Perhaps, all these years, I''ve been unable to remember the plot of Harry Potter from my previous life because I deliberately stripped these memories myself?" Bryan murmured, but he then shook his head, dismissing his previous guess.

    The greatest advantage of being a time traveler was undoubtedly having advance knowledge of the plot.

    Knowing the plot meant avoiding all dangers beforehand and benefiting oneself. Regardless of what happened, Bryan believed that he wouldn''t relinquish such a significant advantage.

    In fact, Bryan could directly integrate these memories to find answers to his questions. However, he exercised caution and refrained from attempting it lightly.

    Memories represented a person''s past and experiences, and they could even alter a person''s personality to some extent. Bryan couldn''t be certain if the information in his mind was left behind by himself or if it was forcibly instilled through memory magic by someone else.

    If it was thetter, then the spellcaster must have foreseen that upon seeing the information, Bryan would retrieve and integrate it into his memory. Instead of going through all this trouble, it would have been simpler for the caster to control Bryan''s actions directly with magic.

    Yet, Bryan couldn''t disregard this possibility. When he was still in school, he wasn''t as powerful as he is today, and being targeted was not out of the realm of possibility.

    After much hesitation, Bryan decided to temporarily forgo integrating the memories. His skill in memory magic was not exceptional, and if the memories within the bottle had been altered by a master specializing in memory magic, he might not possess the discernment to detect it. Taking risks, the more prudent approach would be to seek the assistance of a memory expert to appraise them.

    Were there any memory masters at Hogwarts? Bryan wondered. Dumbledore must be one, but unless he drank two bowls of Felix Felicis in session, he would never make such a foolish choice.

    After safely stowing the memory bottle close to his body, Bryan stood up and removed the partially covered stone lid. He gazed quietly at the contents within the box. The flickering candlelight cast upon his face, obscuring his expression.

    Resting at the bottom of the boxy the cherished possession of Rowena Ravenw, one of the four founders of Hogwarts and the founder of Ravenw House. It was the treasure that symbolized two exquisite qualities: serenity and wisdom.

    However, this treasure now appeared as a piece of rubbish, split in half with ck and dry scabs marring its surface.

    Ravenw''s diadem had been lost for thousands of years, and Bryan couldn''t fathom the effort Voldemort had exerted to find it. He felt a deep indignation at Voldemort''s decision to turn such a valuable treasure into a Horcrux.

    Bryan could imagine the waves this object would cause if it were to surface in the underground world. Countless ancient wizards from the same magical lineage as the four founders would likely be willing to exchange all their wealth for it, even resorting to bloodshed. The wealthy Malfoy family, considered the richest in the wizarding world, would only scrape together enough Galleons to purchase it.

    Clearly, the opportunity to attain immense wealth was within arm''s reach, yet Bryan had to personally destroy this chance. Reflecting on it now, he felt a sense of obstruction in his heart.

    Speaking of destroying the diadem with his own hands, it was another question worthy of contemtion.

    Bryan vividly remembered discovering the diadem, and he could sense the lingering traces of Fiendfyre on it permeating his magic. However, his memory of destroying the diadem remained blurred. The answer to why this urred likelyy within the small memory bottle he had encountered earlier.

    "Reparo!" Bryan pointed his wand at the diadem, causing the two old and faded crowns resting in his palm to tremble briefly before returning to stillness.

    This was not surprising. Although the powerful dark magic imbued by the Horcrux had been vanquished by Bryan''s Fiendfyre, the diadem itself still possessed strange magical properties. Restoring a legendary item with formidable magic power was no simple task.

    "Does the diadem truly possess the magical power to bestow unimaginable wisdom upon its bearer, as the rumors say?" Bryan pondered.

    At the very least, Voldemort hadn''t discovered the diadem''s true power back then; otherwise, he wouldn''t havemitted such a reckless act.

    "For now, I''ll keep it hidden," Bryan whispered to himself. "Perhaps I''ll try using adhesive to piece the diadem together on another day. Maybe those with twisted minds seeking its secrets won''t be able to discern it."

    A cold draft from outside shed with the warm air inside, causing the open window sash to crash onto the floor. Bryan walked over and closed the window. With his keen eyesight, he inadvertently spotted an oilmp swaying as it floated out from the Forbidden Forest, heading towards Hagrid''s cabin.

    "¡ªIt must be Hermione Granger who informed Hagrid about my return to Hogwarts as an investigator. However, I''m afraid he misunderstood the message and believed it was from the Ministry of Magic. Something seems amiss," Bryan said, furrowing his brow as he carefully recalled their encounter that morning.

    Hagrid appeared anxious upon hearing the news, but it was peculiar. Why was he so nervous? Did he believe the Ministry of Magic had ordered Bryan to return to Hogwarts and trouble Dumbledore?

    Or perhaps, did he possess knowledge about the Chamber of Secrets linked to Slytherin, or even have a direct connection to it?

    Bryan pursed his lips, casting a deep gaze towards Hagrid''s cabin.

    After pondering for a while, Bryan nced at the room nearby the tower that still emanated candlelight and shook his head. Just as Professor Snape had said, Dumbledore may not be as noble as people thought, but he wouldn''t permit harm toe to the students within the school. The trust he ced in Hagrid was evidence enough that Hagrid was not under suspicion.

    "Headmaster should be in the process of collecting the Dark Lord''s Horcruxes by now," Bryan murmured as he pulled the curtains shut. "If he is willing to retrieve the broken Horcruxes, it will work in Professor Snape''s favor. Let the game begin, and I shall offer you a fair price!"

 024 The Skynet

    024 The Sk

    The time in Hogwarts was alwaysfortable and peaceful, unlike the hustle and bustle of the outside world, where people seemed like clockwork puppets, constantly running around to make a living. Bryan hadn''t noticed how quickly the two weeks had passed. Tomorrow would mark the beginning of the second half of the semester and the first day of school.

    Traditionally, Hogwarts held a school opening dinner to celebrate the admission of young wizards and the start of the new school year. However, this year was different. Due to the panic caused by the previous semester''s terrorist attacks, Headmaster Dumbledore had decided to hold a banquet in the Great Hall in an unconventional way to inspire the students.

    As Bryan watched through the corridors of Hogwarts, he noticed Professor Snape striding purposefully on the third floor. The nearby young wizards quickly stepped aside, avoiding the indifferent and fierce potions professor.

    Snape was ustomed to such scenes, paying no attention to the students as he walked briskly around a few corners. He eventually stopped in front of a ssroom that remained unused throughout the year.

    "Come in, Professor Snape," a sudden voice from inside the ssroom startled Snape just as he was about to knock on the door. He pushed the door open and saw Bryan standing with his arms folded across his chest, a smile on his face as he stared at a wall.

    "Headmaster Dumbledore sent you to invite me to the dinner party?" Snape asked, entering the room and closing the door behind him, a sneer ying on his lips. "It seems that you, Bryan Watson, are almost omniscient, just like our great Headmaster."

    "I saw youing out of Headmaster Dumbledore''s office, and since you didn''t go anywhere else and came directly towards me, I made a guess," Bryan replied, raising his eyebrows. He pointed at the wall, a little proudly showing off the fruits of hisbor. "Take a look at the effect, Professor Snape. I stayed up for several nights and ran around the castle under the Disillusionment spell. I finallypleted all the work just a day before school started. The screen debugging is done, and if I may evaluate it myself, the effect is very good!"

    Snape ignored Bryan''s self-proimed achievement and turned his attention to the wall. It was divided into hundreds of small squares, each disying shing pictures. Hisplexion changed slightly as he observed the scenes unfolding before him.

    In those pictures, Harry and Ron were seen leaving the school hospital. They were on their way to inform Hermione about the uing banquet and inquire if she wanted to attend. In another picture, Crabbe and Goyle were waiting in the owl shed for Draco Malfoy, who had just entered. Soon enough, Malfoy emerged with owl feathers on his head, cursing and throwing an owl onto the rafters, much to the amusement of Crabbe and Goyle.

    There was also a picture showing a ck and thin curly-haired boy demonstrating something to someone near the statue of the humpbacked witch on the fourth floor. He whispered something to the statue, and its humpback opened, revealing two identical red-haired boys climbing out one after the other. They greeted their friend enthusiastically and proudly showed him the butterbeer they had bought from the Three Broomsticks.

    Filch was depicted catching two first-year students who had been secretly tossingrge dung eggs into the bathroom. He grabbed them by the cor and marched them fiercely towards his office. On the way, he encountered Percy reprimanding Sally for using the Leg-Locking Curse on Padma Patil, causing her to fall into a puddle outside the second-floor bathroom. Filch, unimpressed, grabbed Sally by the cor and led her to his office.

    As Snape observed the various scenes unfolding within the pictures, he watched the people walking, talking, and interacting with each other. Their smiling faces caught his attention, but when his gazended on Bryan''s smiling face in one of the pictures, his expression changed.

    Indeed, on the night Bryan returned to school, he had already nned what he was going to do. However, Snape had to admit that at the time, he hadn''t paid much attention to the whimsical idea of his talented student. It wasn''t until now, with Hogwarts disyed so vividly before him, that Snape realized the power of Bryan''s creation.

    "How did you do it?" Snape asked, his voice subconsciously lowering, his eyes reflecting a hint of fear. "I know you''ve arranged various gadgets throughout the castle... How did you manage to prevent them from being discovered?"

    "It''s quite simple," Bryan replied casually, appearing rxed. "I cast the Disillusionment Charm and other powerful spells to protect all the panoramic binocrs. The little wizards won''t be able to find them, and even the professors won''t notice them unless they search deliberately."

    Snape couldn''t help but feel a sense of disbelief. He considered himself a vignt person, but he hadn''t sensed being observed throughout his journey. Bryan continued his exnation, dismissing the achievement as if it were an easy task.

    "In fact, the principle behind this is straightforward. It''s simr to the Wizard Wireless Network (WWN) in Radio that transmits signals through the magic maic field. However, my setup transmits images instead of sounds. I made adjustments to the interference spell and aligned the binocrs ording to the varying strength of the magic maic field in different locations within the castle. The process was exhausting, but it seems to have paid off. By the way, Professor Snape, next time I see Headmaster Dumbledore, could you help me put in a good word for some overtime pay?"

    Snape''s sallow face turned even paler, and uncertainty filled his expression. "Speaking of Dumbledore," he hesitated, "does he know what you''re doing, Bryan?"

    Bryan didn''t provide a direct answer. Instead, he noticed Percy Weasley, recognizable by his red Weasley hair, sneaking into the basement of the Ravenw Tower during his patrol. Suspicious of Percy''s behavior, Bryan approached the wall and searched for the corresponding picture. There it was, in the corner near the window¡ªa snapshot of Percy embracing a beautiful girl with long, curly brown hair, passionately kissing her.

    "Tsk tsk!" Bryan eximed. "Being a prefect is quite convenient. If only I were a prefect back then, maybe I wouldn''t have... Oh well, I forgot I don''t have a girlfriend."

    Bryan''s yfulment evoked a brief smile. Then he addressed Snape''s question. "Maybe he knows, maybe he doesn''t. I''m not entirely sure, Professor Snape. When I returned this time, Headmaster Dumbledore''s reaction wasn''t what I expected. I thought he would keep a close eye on me, but he ended up ignoring me."

 025 Opening Dinner

    025 Opening Dinner

    As night fell, young wizards and professors gradually gathered in the auditorium from all directions.

    The ceiling of the auditorium projected the iparably bright starry sky outside. The four long tables under the starry sky were bustling with crowds of people. The young wizards happily shared the wonderful time of the Christmas holiday with each other. Uneasy mood forgot to clean.

    Such a situation made Harry secretly heave a sigh of relief. The situation he was most afraid of facing was being watched and pointed at by everyone.

    Most of the professors have already taken their seat at the professor''s seat, and Dumbledore has already stayed in his usual seat. Professor Lockhart is chattering and sharing with Professor McGonagall how many letters from fans he has received during the Christmas holidays. Professor De McGonagall red at Headmaster Dumbledore, but Dumbledore pretended not to see it.

    This interesting scene made Harry purse his lips, but when he saw the extra vacant seat next to Professor Snape, Harry''s expression became a little uneasy. He guessed a possibility, but he didn''t want to believe it.

    Ron was talking to his twin brother, "You came back early in the morning, why haven''t you seen you all day?"

    "Oh, dear little Ronnie has learned to ask questions?" Fred, He looked up at Ron and raised his eyebrows and said, "By the way, why didn''t Miss Know-it-alle to the dinner?"

    Harry quickly kicked Ron under the table, for fear that he might say the wrong thing.

    "It''s none of your business, Fred!" Ron said unhappily.

    "Besides, little Ronnie has learned to keep a secret!" George followed up on his brother''s words, and then the two of them stopped paying attention to Ron.

    At this time, Harry noticed the uneasy staring eyes. He nced at him out of the corner of his eye, and found that it was Neville who was looking at him, hesitant to speak, so he immediately knew what Neville was concerned about, but he couldn''t tell Neville and Hermione were still in the hospital treating the beautiful ck hair on her face, so Harry quickly put his head down and pretended to be interested in the silver spoon on the te.

    "I don''t know, Draco, I didn''t go to school at that time!"

    At the Slytherin table, Malfoy crossed Goyle and Daphne, and was asking Marcus Flint, who looked like a troll, about something, But Marcus was very impatient, "I did hear about that incidentter, and it was said to be rted to him, but the detailed information was strictly blocked by Dumbledore, and the Gryffindor team didn''t say a word." Its not that they don''t want to disclose... but, from my point of view, they don''t know anything, because they were all brought back by the professors that night!"

    During the Christmas break, Flint participated in the Luxembourg Quidditch team selection, But the result was disappointing. In terms of his academic performance, he''s also not good so this meant that he had to ept the arrangement of his family after graduation, and go to work as a small employee in an unpopr department of the Ministry of Magic.

    The young wizards who arrived at the auditorium quickly merged into the four long tables. The auditorium was noisy as if hundreds of Cornish pixies had been stuffed in. Many young wizards stretched their necks and looked eagerly at the professor''s chair, as if they were Asking why the meal is not served yet.

    "Ah, here wee."

    Snape heard Dumbledore mutter something in a low voice, looked up, and saw Bryan strode in from the hall, and quickly approached the staff table.

    "Sorry, everyone, I was so busy that I forgot the dinner." Bryan apologized softly.

    The professors smiled back at him. Previously, Professor McGonagall had notified the professors of various subjects that there was an extra security guard in the castle in the second half of the semester. Moreover, Bryan had also visited them one after another in the past two days. Lockhart, because he was thest professor to return to school.

    "Sit down, Bryan," Professor Flitwick yelled in a sharp voice, "The young wizards are famished!"

    "Need a word, Bryan?"

    Dumbledore moved. Fluttering his silver beard, he smiled at Bryan.

    "Forget it, Headmaster, I''m not a professor." Bryan politely declined the suggestion.

    Almost in an instant, several long tables were filled with sumptuous food, and the noisy auditorium was filled with cheerful atmosphere, and the nging sound of tableware colliding with each other was like a piece of light music.

    Of course, this kind of harmony is only on the surface, Bryan can at least feel that more than a hundred pairs of eyes have fallen on him.

    Five minutes after the meal, basically all the young wizards knew the name of the handsome young wizard next to Professor Snape. The source of the information was the seniors who were in the fifth grade and above. They used to be in school with Bryan.

    But opinions vary about Bryan''s famous school days.

    Some people say that Bryan ran into the Forbidden Forest one night before Christmas in the fifth grade and set off a big fire. As a result, the fire trapped himself, if it wasn''t for training in the Forbidden Forest Gryffindor, where he would probably die.

    Some people also said that the fire was actually set by the Gryffindor team, and Bryan was the rescuer.

    Both arguments have their own supporters, and no one can convince the other.

    Malfoy just kept his head down on themb chops on the te, and didn''t take part in the discussion at all, because his father had sternly warned him in the letter today, never to offend Bryan Watson.

    Lucius Malfoy knows who exactly got Bryan into Hogwarts. Malfoy must have heard of kakus Foley. As long as he has a little imagination, he should guess Where did Kakus find Bryan, and there are not many wizards who came out of that ce without blood on their hands.

    Even without his father''s warning, Draco Malfoy would not have dared to provoke Bryan.

    Because of what happened in the dormitory at noon that day, Malfoy has been having nightmares for half a month. Whenever he closes his eyes, he will clearly see the Eight-eyed spider that was neatly divided into two halves, with its intestines and internal organs scattered all over the ce.

    "Come on, Harry, can I tell those things!?"

    "Of course, Ron, if you want me to be hated or even revenged for revealing his privacy, and if I am imprisoned in Azkaban, you and Hermione must remember to visit me often!". During the holidays, Harry, Ron and Hermione had agreed not to tell anyone about what Hagrid had heard about Bryan Watson''s past.

    Because no matter whether Bryan Watson is sent by the Ministry of Magic or the school board, his purpose of entering Hogwarts is to find the heir of Slytherin, and Harry, who is the most suspicious object in the eyes of everyone, wants to try his best Avoid doing anything that might make Mr. Watson unhappy.

    But for Ron, it was indeed a tormenting thing. After all, there were not many opportunities for him to show off.

    After another ten minutes, the focus of private discussions among the young wizards gradually changed from ''who is he'' to ''what is he here for''.

    "Maybe, the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss will finally consume two professors a year?" The intimidating girl who once had a ''duel'' with Hermione in Lockhart''s dueling ss¡ª¡ªMillicent Bulstrodeughed viciously, shaking her square jaw.

    Millicent''s good joke did cause a burst ofughter at the long table in Slytherin. Of course, the focus of their ridicule was still Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. Most of the Slytherin students saw clearly that Lockhart is just a showman who can make up stories.

    Malfoy shrugged his shoulders, and he quickly nced at Bryan who was talking with Dumbledore at the staff table, then quickly lowered his head, pretending not to recognize theughing people around him.

    "Something''s wrong with you tonight, Draco?" Pansy, who was sitting on the other side of him, rolled his head over to watch Malfoy, who was a little too quiet, and asked with concern.

    "Shut up, Pansy!" Malfoy urgently interrupted her, without even looking at her, "unless you want to be neatly cut in half by someone!"

    "It seems that you are very popr with children, Bryan."

    Dumbledore shook his silver beard, stained with thick mushroom soup, and turned his head to look at Bryan, who was dealing with a grilled sausage, with a smile on his face.

    "They are simply curious about a stranger who suddenly appeared, Headmaster Dumbledore," Bryan politely responded. In front of Dumbledore, he tried to avoid saying too much, and the trouble that came out of his mouth was not without reason.

    Dumbledore didn''t mind his intentional restraint and continued to talk to him cordially, "Severus told me that you haven''t rested for several nights, and I want to thank you, Bryan, for your efforts in ensuring the safety of the children."

    Bryan modestly smiled, but Dumbledore nned to continue. "--Although I am very old, Bryan, I am fortunate not to be a pedantic old guy. Your opinion is right; ensuring the safety of the children is the most important thing--"

    Professor McGonagall, sitting on Dumbledore''s left with her ears pricked up, pursed her lips, not looking very happy.

    "I think it''s a brilliant idea, Bryan. I mean, the set of alchemy items you arranged in the office, although some people say it invades the privacy of the young wizards," Dumbledore finally spoke tactfully, clearly indicating his support for Bryan''s monitoring of the students.

    "Thank you for your understanding, Headmaster Dumbledore. If you wish, I can move the monitoring system to your office after the Chamber of Secrets attack is over," Bryan gratefully nodded.

    It was guaranteed to be much better than using portraits to monitor the school, but Bryan didn''t mention that.

    They exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Dumbledore expressed his hope that Bryan woulde out and interact with the young wizards when he was free.

    "The children would like to get to know you, Bryan."

    Dumbledore ended the conversation with some additional trivial requests.

    "Traitor," Bryan muttered under his breath as he withdrew his gaze.

    Snape, sandwiched between Bryan and Dumbledore, remained expressionless, his face darkened. It was evident that Snape knew who Bryan was referring to.

    On the other side of the staff dining table, Lockhart, who couldn''t clearly hear the conversation but was eager to join, nced secretly at Bryan, who picked up the silver fork again, and suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of unease...

 026 Lockhart

    026 Lockhart

    The opening dinner ended with an embarrassingly cold joke from Dumbledore, and the young wizards dispersed in groups. Until the end, they failed to understand Bryan''s purpose for returning to school. It was expected that a grand detective campaign would take ce in the school during the first week.

    Bryan had already left before the young wizards. He hadn''t forgotten that he didn''te here for vacation when he returned to Hogwarts. When all the young wizards gathered neatly in the auditorium, his task officially began.

    In the following time, until he found the secret room, he would probably live an upside-down life, sleeping during the day and working at night. It would be a challenging period.

    In the monitoring room, Bryan sat on a chair, staring at the gradually filling scene of people''s heads. He focused on the young wizards who were alone and observed whether their behavior contradictedmon sense. Professor Lockhart was also one of the subjects of his attention.

    The Chamber of Secrets didn''t appear sooner orter, but it happened to be opened when Lockhart was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, which raised doubts in Bryan''s mind.

    After dinner, under the leadership of the prefects, most of the young wizards from each house returned to theirmon rooms. However, about a dozen young wizards sneaked out while everyone wasn''t paying attention.

    Among them, more than half were Gryffindor students.

    Harry and Ron went to the school hospital, and the Weasley brothers took advantage of Filch''s inattention to explore and rushed into the passage leading to the Hufflepuffmon room located underground. They manipted the fruit oil painting on the wall a bit before entering.

    Bryan also noticed Penelope Clearwater entering the Ravenwmon room but returning shortly after, and Percy Weasley left Gryffindor around the same time to visit multiplemon rooms. It could be predicted that there would be another secret rendezvous somewhere in the castle.

    Except for Professor McGonagall and Professor Lockhart, who returned to their offices to work overtime after dinner, the rest of the professors mostly stayed in the staff dormitory. Before entering his office, Headmaster Dumbledore turned and yfully blinked his blue eyes at the corridor thirty feet away, as if saying hello.

    Bryan pursed his lips and looked away from the screen.

    Nothing unusual happened, everything was normal, and the result didn''t exceed Bryan''s expectations. Unless one was very lucky, one couldn''t expect to find anything in just ten days or half a month.

    The firece with exquisitely carved patterns crackled with mes. Bryan leaned back in his chair, holding a cup of bitter hot tea. His gaze asionally swept across the entire wall, his expression calm.

    About half an hourter, the figure on the monitoring screen remained active and transformed into a ghostly form. Bryan observed Peeves, wearing aical round hat and smirking, as he hurried into a bathroom on the second floor that had been abandoned for many years. After a while, water began to seep out from under the bathroom door, flooding the corridor outside.

    The long night had just begun, and Bryan was already feeling bored. He walked over to his desk and retrieved a copy of "Basic Model of Spells and Structural Optimization," aption he was working on. He casually flipped through the pages, hoping to find some inspiration.

    Suddenly, movement caught his attention on the lower right corner of the monitoring screen. Professor Lockhart appeared, now dressed in a purple robe, and held a few books in his hands. He wore a charismatic smile as he headed in the direction of his monitoring room.

    Both of their offices were on the first floor, and within two minutes, Professor Lockhart arrived outside his office.

    Tuk Tuk - as the knock on the door sounded, Bryan waved his wand. A huge ck curtain covered the wall, and the stool under him hopped back to the desk like a tap dance, returning to its normal position.

    "Professor Lockhart?" Bryan, who opened the door, feigned surprise. "What brings you here?"

    Bryan invited Lockhart into the office, his intentions unknown. He poured him a cup of tea, but Lockhart didn''t seem interested in drinking it.

    "¡ªActually," Lockhart began to exin his visit but got distracted when he noticed a copy of "W

    andering with Werewolves" on Bryan''s bookshelf. The smile on his face became even brighter. "Ah, my mistake, my fault. Mistake, Bryan. I should have realized it earlier," he winked at the slightly bewildered Bryan. "An ardent and daring admirer, right? Surprised me in an unexpected way!"

    "Sorry, Professor Lockhart, maybe I''m a bit slow to understand what you''re trying to express..."

    "No need to hide it anymore, Bryan. Trying to get close to me by pretending to be interested in werewolves, right?"

    Lockhart smiled gleefully. "Professor McGonagall told me that the Board of directors sent an investigator to look into the Chamber of Secrets. What a waste of money!"

    Bryan nced at the bookshelf in the direction of Lockhart''s gaze and blinked.

    "If you mean ''Wandering with Werewolves,'' then yes, I had some unpleasant encounters with a group of werewolves, and to deepen my understanding of them, I researched a few of the most famous ones."

    "Ah, finally exposed, right?" Lockhart seemed to have finally caught Bryan''s secret. "Just like Miss Granger from the second year, who knows me well. Yes, yes, many people are amazed at the calmness and bravery I disyed when trapped in a telephone booth with werewolves. But you, Bryan, you want to learn how I managed to tame the werewolves, don''t you?"

    An hourter, Lockhart left Bryan''s office contentedly. He stood in front of the door and lowered his voice, addressing Bryan.

    "Don''t worry about exining it to the Board of Directors, Bryan. The Chamber of Secrets attack won''t happen again. And you know the reason, right?" Lockhart winked at Bryan once again. "Because I''m here!"

    Bryan watched Professor Lockhart walk away, closed the door, and stood in front of his desk, staring at the gift Lockhart had given him¡ªa set of hardcover signed books.

    "What an interesting fellow!" Bryan chuckled to himself.

    Later that night, when Bryan and Professor Snape discussed suspicious individuals in the school, Snape''s tone was filled with disdain and sarcasm when Lockhart was mentioned. Bryan found it puzzling, as he didn''t think there was anything wrong with Lockhart.

    "However, as a well-known celebrity writer in the magical world, he''s at least a friendly wizard."

 027 Reactions

    027 Reactions

    The first week of school flew by swiftly, but it proved to be a challenging one for Harry. The rumors and whispers had intensified after Bryan Watson, an investigator, arrived at Hogwarts. Harry found himself increasingly annoyed by the attention he was receiving, as the presence of an investigator only added fuel to the spection surrounding him. It all started a few weeks ago during Professor Lockhart''s dueling ss when Harry identally revealed his ability as a Parseltongue. Ever since then, he could sense people covertly watching him and whispering ominously whenever he passed by.

    But now, There was both sympathy and schadenfreude among those who observed him, even within Gryffindor House.

    Harry wasn''t entirely caught off guard by this, as Seamus had informed him on Monday night that Hufflepuff''s Ernie MacMin had discovered the ''extra'' staff-member from Professor Sprout. The news had likely spread, about the arrival of Bryan Watson, the investigator, at Hogwarts. Harry anticipated that Watson''s presence was connected to the incident and the increasing scrutiny surrounding him.

    Garlic cloves, exorcisms, and amulets, which were popr for a whilest semester, were once again in vogue on campus. Thankfully, Neville didn''t wear his amethyst ne around his neck this time.

    The person Harry hated the most was Draco Malfoy.

    After Potions ss on Wednesday afternoon, Harry was about to storm out of the ssroom with his homework, which received a Dreadful ''D,'' but Goyle and Crabbe stood at the door, blocking his way. Their size made it nearly impossible for anyone to push past them.

    Harry turned and coldly stared at Draco, who sat on his desk with a smirk on his face. "Get your two brainlessckeys out of the way, Malfoy, unless you want to see them chopped into pieces. I''ll slice them up and stuff them in a jar!"

    Malfoy chuckled even more slyly upon hearing this, and the inexplicable pity in his eyes only fueled Harry''s anger. "Speaking of chopping into pieces, Potter," Malfoy raised his pointed chin, prolonging his words, "I suddenly feel sorry for you, Potter. I thought the worst oue for you would be spending the rest of your life in Azkaban, apanied by Dementors. Being a ssmate, I can''t guarantee that anymore. Perhaps someone will chop you into several pieces and use them as flower fertilizer for Professor Sprout''s Mandrakes!"

    "He''s been making threats like thattely, Harry," Neville, standing beside Harry, blushed and whispered, "He told me the same thing in the Great Hall at noon."

    "And you managed to let Malfoy get out of the Great Hall alive, Neville. That''s remarkable," Ron, furiously, pulled out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy.

    "Twenty points from Gryffindor, plus two days of detention, Weasley," Snape, who had been packing up on the podium and turning a blind eye to the conflict, intervened andzily red at Ron. "I hope this teaches you a lesson, Weasley. In my ssroom, you''re not allowed to point wands at ssmates."

    The oue of this conflict left Harry feeling down for several days. Wood was particrly worried because of his previous convictions that caused him to missst year''s finals. "If you want to catch the culprit and prove your innocence, Harry, can you please wait until after the finals to execute your n?"

    "Wood shouldn''t say that to you, Harry. It''s not your fault," Ron said, trying to console him.

    On Sunday night, in the school hospital, when Harry, feeling dejected, shared Wood''s words with Hermione, she responded angrily, "You can''t put all the me on him, Hermione. Fred and George told me that Wood aspires to join Puddlemere United as a professional Quidditch yer after graduation. Winning the championship with Gryffindor means a lot to him. Unfortunately, Wood is already in his sixth year, and this year or the next is hisst chance."

    Ron''s defense of Wood added to Harry''s guilt.

    "But it''s not fair for him to put all the me on Harry for not winning, Ron. He should be able to find it within himself," Hermione said, crossing her arms.

    Ron shrugged and wisely remained silent.

    The three of them knew that until the heir of Slytherin was discovered, Harry''s situation was unlikely to improve. This was the most challenging aspect, which was why the school board had hired someone to be at Hogwarts to handle the situation.

    Most of the cat features on Hermione''s face and body had faded away, and she was less secretive about her appearance. She got out of bed, walked around the room with a furrowed brow, thinking about ways to help Harry alleviate the misunderstandings.

    Voices of several young Gryffindor wizards could be heard outside the door. Harry and the others recognized them as Neville, Ginny, Parvati, and Lavender. They were negotiating with Madam Pomfrey, hoping to visit Hermione. The rumors of Hermione being attacked and petrified had not been resolved yet, but Madam Pomfrey firmly refused their request.

    Hermione looked at the door, her expression less serious. She was genuinely touched by the concern of her friends.

    "Perhaps we can seek help from Mr. Watson," Hermione suggested. She stared at the doorknob for a while. For some reason, Bryan Watson, whom she had only met once, suddenly came to her mind. Despite his position between the houses, Hermione had a favorable impression of the suave young wizard. He was polite and understanding, at the very least.

    "Are you out of your mind, Hermione?" Ron eximed, his cheeks puffed up in surprise. "Did you forget that Harry''s current situation is because of this investigator?"

    "It wasn''t his fault, Ron," Hermione asserted dominantly. "Mr. Watson was just following the school board''s orders to investigate the Chamber of Secrets. It''s his duty. But it doesn''t necessarily mean he''s targeting Harry, right?"

    Hermione was satisfied that her words had made both Ron and Harry fall into deep thought. She looked at Harry, who was frowning, and continued to inquire, "So, Harry, from what you know, has Mr. Watson made any real moves?"

    "That''s the question, Hermione!"

    Ron answered instead of Harry, "Many people thought that our Mr. Investigator wouldunch an unprecedentedrge-scale operation, like searching the castle or interrogating each student from Slytherin House one by one. But so far, he''s done nothing but stay in his office, as if he''s back at Hogwarts for the holidays. From what I see, Hagrid must be confused or something. Maybe someone else beat Bill and Charlie!"

    Harry, with a sad expression, chimed in, "Fred and George told us that Mr. Watson never goes out at night, only during the day. I asionally see him going to the kitchen to grab something to eat, taking care of his basic needs."

    Hermione was genuinely surprised by this answer. She stood at the end of the bed, frowning and pursing her lips, resembling Professor McGonagall catching Gryffindor students sneaking out at night.

    "Fred and George are monitoring Mr. Watson?" I mean, they have sses for two days, so how do they know his whereabouts so clearly?" Hermione asked.

    Ron answered angrily, "Fred told me that it''s their secret to sess. Hmph, apart from avoiding Filch, I don''t see any sess in their ''battles''!" Ron''s evaluation wasn''t very impressive, but Harry felt that Fred and George did a good job in making everyone happy. Their asional prank products were quite popr among young wizards.

    The discussion about Fred and George spying on Mr. Watson had veered off from the original topic and remained unanswered.

    At eight o''clock, Madam Pomfrey hurriedly chased them away from the hospital wing. On their way back to the Gryffindormon room, Ron keptining that Hermione refused to share her Potions homework, but they were used to it. As a rule, Hermione wouldn''t let them copy a single word until they hadpleted their own homework.

    "...If you can prove your innocence to Mr. Watson, Harry, in the current situation, it might be more effective than what Headmaster Dumbledore said!" Hermione suggested.

    Standing in front of the Fat Lady''s portrait, Harry hesitated, recalling Hermione''s suggestions from earlier.

 028 Announcement

    028 Announcement

    The first morning of the second week of school started with the sound of yawning. Professor Snape''s Potions homework was obviously bothering more than one or two people. The Gryffindor lounge had been filled with second-year students who stayed up all night trying to catch up on their assignments. After all, nobody wanted to risk getting detention from Snape during the first month of school.

    The previous night, before Harry and Ron yawned and returned to the dormitory, Neville was hunched over the firece, dealing with a five-foot-long parchment with a despondent expression. He didn''t even notice that his robe had caught fire from the mes. Thankfully, his toad named Trevor gave him a hard bite on the ear, saving him from the tragic fate of being roasted.

    Neville probably hadn''t gotten much sleep that night, so it took Seamus and Dean about ten minutes to wake him up in the morning. As they descended the spiral staircase, Neville ended up rolling straight into a bed in front of everyone in the lounge.

    "I''ll go talk to Professor Snape, about Mr. Longbottom, and make sure he takes things step by step," Professor McGonagall said, unable to bear Neville''s pitiful appearance. In the morning Transfiguration ss, when Professor McGonagall noticed Neville''s scorched robe, the two big dark circles under his eyes, and the clear bite marks on his ears, she took a deep breath before speaking.

    Neville''s episode momentarily made people forget about the presence of the ''Investigator'' at the school, but such strokes of luck couldn''tst forever.

    Oliver Wood wouldn''t let the cold weather and drizzling rain dy his pursuit of the championship. His training n had begun during the first week of school and continued at an ultra-high frequency, with sessions held four times a week leading up to the finals.

    "You all know that Slytherin will be strong this year!" Wood yelled at the yers who were braving the wind on their brooms. "We''ll face a tough battle in the finals this year. Of course, if we get eliminated by Hufflepuff or Ravenw, .... just pretend I didn''t say anything!"

    "Please, is there anyone who can calm Oliver down?" Katie Bell, who was at the same level as the Weasley twins, almost slipped off her broom while trying to avoid George''s Buldger. She broke down and eximed, "My clothes are soaked, and I haven''t beenfortable for days!"

    "Maybe you can ask Harry for help, Katie," George suggested with a grin as he flew over her head. "You could ask Harry to release his servants in Chamber of Secrets. I reckon if you petrify Flint and Malfoy then, Wood might feel a bit easier!"

    George''s words elicitedughter, and Harry had to chuckle a few times in agreement.

    "Harry, Harry!" Ron hurriedly ran from the castle to the field. He had been ying wizard chess with Seamus in themon room, but Neville''s news had unsettled him, preventing him from enjoying his pastime.

    "What''s the matter, Ron?" Harry asked as he controlled his Nimbus 2000 and Under Wood''s cannibalistic gaze flew to the edge of the pitch. Upon seeing Ron''s pale face, he immediately sensed that something bad had happened again.

    "Look in the entrance hall, Harry, right now!" Ron eximed, grabbing Harry and rushing towards the castle without even waiting for permission. The rest of the team mistakenly thought there was another attack and followed them, descending from the sky to the castle. Eventually, Wood was left alone in the sky...

    By the time the team reached the entrance hall, arge crowd had already gathered, whispering over a newly posted announcement on the bulletin board.

    As Harry approached, the crowd automatically parted, revealing Hufflepuff''s Ernie and Susan Bones, who looked at him with iprehensible expressions. Percy wore a serious expression, while Ginny, standing behind Percy, clutched her chest with a pale face.

    "For you, Weasley, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, isn''t it?" Draco Malfoy sneered, standing at the forefront with his two faithful minions, who had secured the best positions for him. Upon seeing Harry and Ron, who were soaked and disheartened, Malfoy shed a vicious smile.

    "This might be your only chance to afford a wand of your own. Are you going to let it slip away?"

    "Get lost, Malfoy. I don''t need you worrying about anything," Ron replied curtly.

    Perhaps noticing that all the Gryffindor yers were present, Malfoymanded Crabbe and Goyle to step aside, giving Harry a malicious look. It was then that Harry finally saw what had caused such amotion.

    Posted on the bulletin board was an up-to-date public list,rge enough to cover all other notices about second-hand spell books, Filch''s reminders of school rules, chocte frog card exchanges, lost and found items, and more. In bold red ink, there was a prominent signature:

    To all the teachers and students of Hogwarts:

    In light of the ongoing attacks and the inability to effectively ensure the safety of all teachers and students, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall have approved and encouraged any young wizards with information regarding the attacks in the Chamber of Secrets to provide relevant information to the school board''s special investigator. If the information is confirmed to be true and effective, the school board will award a cash reward of 200 Galleons.

    Bryan Watson

    Harry''s face turned extremely pale, and it felt like a thousand Cornish Pixies were screaming in his ears.

    "So, this is the investigator''s method that the school board has put so much hope into, huh?" Fred whispered, his anger evident. "Encouraging everyone to spy and report on each other. The method is truly cunning and outrageous!" Ginny looked as though she might burst into tears at any moment. Neville''s soft reminder made Harry''s heart sink even further, as Azkaban seemed to rise before his eyes.

    "Filch rushed to the third floor as soon as he saw the announcement, Harry. You need to be careful," Neville warned. Harry didn''t need to ask what Neville meant by "be careful." He was almost certain what Filch would say when he went to the investigator. Mrs. Norris had been the first victim this school year, and unfortunately, Harry and the others had been the first ones at the crime scene. This led Filch to believe that the three of them were responsible for Petrifing his beloved pet.

    "Go talk to him, Harry," Ron whispered, filled with concern.

    Harry understood what Ron meant. He wanted Harry to speak with Mr. Watson before most of the little wizards in the castle reported him. Hermione had suggested the same thing in the hospital wing the previous night, but Harry had declined for several reasons. For instance, he feared that if he confided in others before each attack, he would hear strange and terrifying voices then he might be regarded as a lunatic.

    Additionally, he didn''t want to see the poor elf named Dobby interrogated and punished for revealing his confession.

    However, aside from these concerns, what else could he say? How could he justify himself? Moreover, instead of confiding in Headmaster Dumbledore, he would be approaching an investigator who likely knew very little about the situation. This made Harry feel that something was amiss.

    Harry staggered out of the hall and made his way toward the dormitory, not even bothering to respond to Malfoy''s mocking remarks on to inform Professor Sprout that she would soon receive fresh flower fertilizers.

    Behind him, Fred and George exchanged nces, understanding each other''s thoughts perfectly. They both saw the same idea reflected in their eyes.

    // /FicFrenzy

 029 Failed Conversation (Part 1)

    029 Failed Conversation (Part 1)

    Anyway, Harry finally decided to follow Hermione''s advice and talk to Bryan Watson; otherwise, he probably wouldn''t have to wait until the monster in the Chamber of Secrets petrified someone again. He didn''t want to be driven mad by strange looks and terrible rumors.

    He went back to the dormitory, changed into clean clothes, and smoothed his hair in front of the mirror because it would make him look less rebellious.

    "You''re wasting your time, my dear!" said the mirror iid with gold patterns in the dormitory, in a wheezing voice.

    "Thank you for the reminder!" Harry responded with an annoyed expression.

    Harry made a special trip to Mr. Watson''s office at dinnertime because that way, he wouldn''t have to face too many schadenfreude looks on the way. However, when he went down to the third floor, he still bumped into the castle administrator, Argus Filch.

    Filch seemed to have just cried a lot. His big bulging eyes were red and watery, and the snot hanging from his ugly nose was already dragging to his double chin. When he found Harry, he immediately restrained himself. Instead of looking embarrassed, he stared at him fiercely like a wounded hyena.

    "Someone will get what they deserve, Potter, and it won''t be long!"

    "What do you mean, Mr. Filch?"

    Harry''s voice was weak, as if someone had strangled him, and he desperately wanted to figure out what Filch meant. Unfortunately, Filch stared at him, sneered, and left directly.

    Filch had gone to report him, there was no doubt about it.

    Harry couldn''t lie to himself that this wasn''t the case. His heart was pounding, and he wanted to run away because he was afraid that the investigator had epted Filch''s identification. If that happened, going to the office on his own would be self-inflicted.

    But in the end, he knocked on the door of Watson''s office because the other party was a ruthless person who could fight Dumbledore in the fifth grade. If he made up his mind to send Harry to prison, except for Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry couldn''t think of anyone capable of saving him.

    After getting permission to enter, the door of the office opened by itself. Harry stood at the door, looking around the room in fear, afraid that a rope would fly over and tie him up in a second.

    Except for Headmaster Dumbledore''s distinctive round office, Mr. Watson''s office is thergest one Harry has ever seen. Of course, there is nothing surprising about it because it itself was transformed from a ssroom.

    The firece in the wall on the side of the window made the room warm. On the innermost side were desks, bookshelves, and a simple bed. There was some strange smell in the air, as if Mr. Watson had been brewing potions in the room.

    The most interesting thing in the room is the wall on the right hand side of the door. The entire wall is covered by a huge ck curtain, and behind the curtain, one can faintly see shimmering lights. For some reason, Harry suddenly thought of the Muggle world. Although they never took him to the movies when they were at the Dursleys, Harry had seen them on TV a few times.

    "So, are you going to stand there and talk to me, Mr. Potter?" Bryan behind the desk smiled gently.

    "Oh, I''m sorry, Mr. Watson." Harry quickly closed the door and walked in. He still hesitated to exin on the way to the desk, "I''m just curious about that wall."

    "Understandable," Bryan said with a smile. He beckoned Harry to sit down, and he went to the firece to make tea.

    "I don''t have any good drinks to entertain you. If you don''t mind, let''s have some tea, Mr. Potter¡ª"

    When Bryan was walking back with tea, Harry was again attracted by the framed mirror on Mr. Watson''s desk. In the photo was a very old woman and Mr. Watson, a group photo. The old woman is probably an elder who is close to Mr. Watson.

    To Harry''s surprise, Mr. Watson, who was about Percy''s age in the photo, looked a little off.

    "Thank you."

    When Harry took the hot tea, he quickly nced at Mr. Watson''s slightly haggard face, and then he understood why he felt something was wrong.

    Because Mr. Watson in the photo had brown eyes simr to Hermione''s when she was a student, but the investigator standing in front of him had wonderfulvender eyes.

    Is it the effect of magic? Harry guessed in a daze, but then he woke up. Now is not the time to think about it.

    "Are you wondering why the color of my eyes is not quite right?"

    Bryan leaned on the back of the chair with a cup of tea in his hand. The hazy mist made his expression a little fuzzy, but judging from his tone, he wasn''t offended by Harry''s question.

    "Yeah, no!" Harry said in embarrassment.

    The uneasy little wizard sitting across from him made Bryanugh. No matter how famous Harry Potter is, and no matter how bright his future is, at least for now, the immaturity and innocence he shows still haven''t broken away from Bryan''s perception of him as a second-year little wizard.

    "You must have met Mr. Filch just now, right?" Bryan sipped the bitter tea with a gentle voice.

    When Mr. Watson began to speak, Harry suddenly recalled the sudden encounter he had with Ron and Hagrid near Professor McGonagall''s office during the Christmas vacation, and Ron''s evaluation of Mr. Watson afterward. It was very much like Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry didn''t feel too deeply at the time, but now, he recognized Ron''s view to a certain extent.

    Unlike Professor Snape or Professor McGonagall, who carry a stern aura wherever they go, what makes Mr. Watson fearsome is precisely his tolerant and gentle temperament. It is brought by a natural self-confidence and a high degree of repression that makes it impossible for you to think of resisting.

    "Yes, Mr. Watson, I saw Filch. He looks like he just cried a lot." Harry nodded hesitantly.

    "What do you think it is for, Mr. Potter?"

    Bryan asked with great interest as he blew off the floating leaves on the surface of the tea.

    Harry''s eyes flicked to the cor of Bryan''s worn wizard robes, but he didn''t speak because the question didn''t need an answer.

    Seeing that the atmosphere was getting better, Bryan didn''t intend to scare Harry anymore. He put down the teacup and prepared to get straight to the point. However, he didn''t expect that Harry, who had been silent all this time, suddenly summoned up his courage. With his shining tenacity, his emerald green eyes looked directly into Bryan''s eyes.

    "Mr. Watson, do you also think that I am the descendant of Slytherin? Do you think I opened the Chamber of Secrets?"

    // /FicFrenzy

 030 Failed Conversation (Part 2)

    030 Failed Conversation (Part 2)

    Harry stared at the pensive Bryan nervously, his hands resting on his knees, clutching his robe tightly, and the courage he had finally brewed in his heart was asking questions. It disappeared in an instant.

    <em>What would Mr. Watson say?</em>

    Deep down in his heart, Harry thought that Mr. Investigator, who was very unusual to touch, would not be so credulous about the rumors in the school, but if he couldn''t stand the pressure of the school board and urgently needed to hand over a murderer...

    "If you''re asking for my personal opinion, Potter--"

    Bryan began to speak, and Harry''s clenched fists turned white at the knuckles.

    "I personally don''t think you will be the heir who opened the Chamber of Secrets, Potter."

    Harry''s eyes widened suddenly, and the heart in his chest was beating like he was riding a broomstick for the first time through thin and cold clouds. Rxed and happy, even the slightly dark office suddenly became bright and open.

    "But why, sir?"

    Still, Harry subconsciously asked, "I am a Parseltongue it''s because of this , they... I mean, people know that Slytherin himself is the most famous Parseltongue."

    Bryanughed, and he nced secretly at Harry''s scar, with a rxed expression on his face,

    "What can Parseltongue represent, Mr. Potter, since the era of Szar Slytherin until now? In the past thousand years, there have been at least dozens of Parseltongues that have existed in the wizarding world and have been clearly recorded. I can''t think that you have an unclear rtionship with the great founder of Slytherin just because of this¡ª"

    Looking at Harry, whose expression brightened, Bryan joked jokingly,

    "There are many other facts that I can''t ignore, for example, I can''t figure out if Szar Slytherin wants to find himself an heir, why do you have to pick from Gryffindor House.

    For another example, "The Boy Who Lived" who defeated the most evil dark wizard in history at the age of one and rescued people in the British Wizarding world from the shadow of despair, fear, and death, was honored by the greatest and most powerful and wise wizard of his time, How could that wizard, Harry Potter, whom Albus Dumbledore regarded as his favorite student, attack his ssmates in school?"

    Harry grinned, and he found that he began to like this Bryan Watson a little bit.

    Since entering the wizarding world, many people have made a fuss about his defeating Voldemort. He is extremely admired, and some people think he is just a grandstanding little wizard, some hate him, some are indifferent. But no matter what kind of attitude, Harry will feel heavy pressure when this is mentioned. Only Mr. Watson is an exception.

    You can hear thepletely harmless and respectful ridicule in his tone, as if he was simply discussing a funny little jinx. To be honest, before meeting Mr. Watson, Harry never expected that he would have such a pleasant conversation with a Slytherin-wizard one day.

    "¡ªIf you''re worried about that announcement I posted, Mr. Potter, you don''t have to."

    Bryan got up and went to the firece to refill a cup of strong tea for himself. Seeing that the tea in Harry''s cup hadn''t moved at all, he stopped being sentimental. The sky outside the window was already dark, and now, only the lights of Hagrid''s hut remained on the Forbidden Forest.

    "From the beginning to the end, I never thought that I could get any useful information from people''s reports."

    Bryan was leaning against the firece, and Harry had to turn around to see him. Before he could ask, Mr. Watson exined himself. "To be honest, before, I thought that as long as I acted, as soon as the news spread that the investigator had entered the Hogwarts investigation chamber, those who acted secretly would inevitably react in some way, because since those who dared to stir up trouble under Dumbledore''s nose then they were unlikely to endure the school board''s dictating orders. You know what I mean, Mr. Potter?"

    Harry frowned and thought about it carefully, then rxed his brows and nodded.

    Mr. Watson probably meant that if the heir of Slytherin did not respond to the existence of the investigator in some way, then people would most likely think that he was intimidated by the name of the investigator as an act of daring to raise his vignce before Headmaster Dumbledore. It is unlikely that someone whounched two more attacks on the little wizard under the same circumstances would endure this ''insult''.

    Bryan blinked his eyes in satisfaction and continued, "I think he might be impatient to act again, so he''ll be caught by me."

    Staying in the office all day, not even doing patrols, how can I catch others? Harry secretly rolled his eyes.

    "¡ªThe most ideal situation is that the attacker directly finds me in order to prove his ability. In that case, I can kill him and get money. Ahem-, I mean, put an end to this terrorist incident."

    Bryan showed a slight annoyance, "But I didn''t expect him to be more cautious than I thought. I have been monitoring the castle for a week, but I haven''t found anything wrong. This makes me feel a little anxious, so I have to do something to stimte that patient lurker."

    Harry realized that Mr. Watson''s behavior of posting the announcement was just a temptation, and he hoped that after seeing the announcement, the culprit would regard it as a provocation, so as to continue his great career as the heir of Slytherin.

    After figuring this out, Harry felt extremely rxed all over his body!

    Since Mr. Watson believed that he was innocent, the damage caused by the rumors in the school would be reduced by at least half because his biggest worry was that Mr. Watson would listen to the rumors.

    "Since this is the case, "Harry stood up excitedly, "Mr. Watson, if you don''t think I did all of this, then can you help me? I mean, maybe you can make another announcement to exin to everyone."

    "It means you are innocent?" Bryan smiled, "That''s why you came to find me, Mr. Potter? Hehe, I thought you were here to report someone like Filch."

    Harry was very embarrassed. He expected that his request would not be granted, but he still insisted on saying,

    "I think you already know that because of Parsel-tongue, the little wizards all think that I attacked Colin and Fletchley. There''s Mrs. Norris, and everyone thinks that wherever they go, Anyway..."

    Harry couldn''t go on because he had seen Mr. Watson stop smiling and shake his head.

    "I understand your current dire situation, Mr. Potter, but I cannot agree to your request."

    Bryan said calmly, not because the person standing in front of him was the protagonist, or because he and himself stayed together. If the unprocessed mysterious memory is rted, I will make an exception.

    "Just like I will not believe that you are the attacker because of rumors, I also have no way to tell everyone that you are the attacker without certain evidence. There must be no suspicion. This is an irresponsible behavior, Mr. Potter. I hope you can understand me."

    Bryan''s deep eyes contained indescribable pressure, which made Harry unable to continue making the request, and then afterwards, Mr. Watson''s words made Harry nervous again,

    "Also, you really need to give everyone a reasonable exnation for some things. For example, on the night of Halloween , I mean, the first attack happened. At that time, the reason why you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger appeared in the corridor on the third floor after attending Nick''s Death Day party was really puzzling¡ª"

    /FicFrenzy

 031 The Twins Plan

    031 The Twins n

    Bryan observed Harry Potter leaving his office, a tinge of disappointment apparent on the young wizard''s face. In the end, he also had failed to uncover any inhumane secrets. Bryan wasn''t surprised by this oue. Considering Harry''s age and his reputation as the heir of Slytherin among his peers, it was understandable that he would withhold such information. Bryan believed that Headmaster Dumbledore should be the one Harry confided in, rather than cing trust in a stranger like himself.

    However, after the test just now, Bryan did confirm that Potter had hidden some extremely critical information. If he knew this information, the situation would probably not be so passive.

    "Maybe I should think of some way to gain his trust?"

    Bryan stared at the swaying light and shadow on the ceiling, frowning in distress. What if the heir never showed his feet?

    Bryan once considered that maybe he could get some Polyjuice potion and pretend to be Colin or Justin, spread information to the outside world that the young wizard who was attacked had woken up, and provided the school with key clues to the identity of the culprit, while he himself would just need to show his face with the face of the person being impersonated, and then hide in the school hospital and nevere out.

    This is a good method, but there is a loophole, that is, if Colin and Justin did not see the real face of the perpetrator when they were petrified, then this method may not be able to scare the attacker.

    "Wait and see¡ª"

    Bryan withdrew his gaze, and after he moved his fingers towards the monitoring wall, the curtain was pulled open silently, staring at the swaying figures on the wall, he muttered,

    If there is still no progress, then the only way is to hug the thighs of the protagonist group¡ª

    Harry, who left Mr. Watson''s office, walked towards the Gryffindor tower. Originally, he nned to tell Hermione the process of the conversation first, but Harry carefully thought about it. It seemed that there was no need to borrow Hermione''s wisdom urgently.

    He has already figured out the most critical issue, that is, Mr. Watson will not easily believe the rumors in the school, and he will not put anyone in the castle in prison until he has definite evidence. For Harry, that''s enough.

    As for not telling Mr. Watson about the horrible voice and Dobby''s warning, that''s what Harry thought.

    Since Mr. Watson refuses to rify for himself, even if these things are said, it is unlikely to change the result, but it will make him appear more suspicious.

    And, he always thought, if anyone needed to know these things, it should be Headmaster Dumbledore¡ªthought Harry as he passed the doorway behind the Fat Lady''s portrait.

    Except for Percy, several children of the Weasley family were sitting on arge soft sofa under a bright crystal chandelier. When they saw Harry, they immediately showed expressions of relief and waved to him happily. And this scene warmed Harry''s heart.

    "Well, Harry, did that Watson make things difficult for you because of Filch?" Ron stood up and handed Harry a ss of pumpkin juice.

    "Better than I thought, Ron." Harry grinned.

    Twenty minutester, when Harry told them the whole process of the conversation, the Weasleys, who were nervous because of worry, rxed a lot.

    "Oh, that Mr. Investigator seems to be more intelligent than we thought, George. It seems that we have to make some adjustments to our n." Fred muttered, but his expression seemed a little disappointed, "We were going to give him some ir!"

    "Don''t, Fred." Harry said worriedly, "Mr. Watson is not a showman like Lockhart, he is not so easy to deal with!"

    "Trust in our professionalism, Harry," George chimed in confidently. "We never miss!"

    Ron looked at George with great interest and asked, "So, what''s your n? Are you going to throw something big in his office?"

    When Harry said that he would not be thrown out of school inexplicably for the time being, Ginny''s pale and haggard face, which looked as if she hadn''t slept for half a month, regained some color, and she let go of her hand covering her chest. Tone, but after a short while, her breath came again, and she looked tense.

    "That Mr. Watson said that he was monitoring the school, but how did he do it? I mean, he almost never steps out of that office of his?"

    It was indeed a puzzling question, and Harry couldn''t answer it, but his intuition told him that Mr. Watson was not lying, and they discussed it for a long time, and finally, the result is that it is probably rted to the wall covered by the curtain.

    "It seems that we still have to go, Fred!" At the end of the conversation, George raised his eyebrows and smirked at his brother.

    "Of course, George, there''s probably no one else who would take the opportunity to sneak into his office except the two of us!" Fred winked at George.

    After everyone left, Fred whispered to George, "You think that Percy will have a share too."

    "Shut up, Fred!" George said hurriedly, looking at Percy who was struggling to climb into the lounge. "Wait until tomorrow, we can figure this out."

    On Tuesday morning, Gryffindor''s fourth-year ss had charms with Professor Flitwick. They were learning the Laughter Charm¡ªa spell that brought happiness.

    "¡ªAt the end of the casting action, your wand needs to be slightly raised upwards. This is very important, gentlemen anddies," Professor Flitwick said sharply on the first base beside the podium, "otherwise, if you wake up, you will find yourself lying on the floor with a ck-haired baboon on your chest!"

    "What are you two up to?"

    Angelina saw that Fred and George didn''t practice spells with each other at all but lowered their heads to peek at a piece of parchment. On the yellowed paper, there were many densely packed words moving back and forth.

    "Peeking into someone''s privacy is despicable, Angelina. I wouldn''t want a despicable person as my teammate~" Fred replied, turning his head to avoid Angelina''s gaze. He then discreetly signaled George, who promptly produced an orange-yellow candy from his sleeve.

    "If I die because of this, Fred, remember to bury my body in Filch''s office!" George said with a smile.

    Three minutester, the originally noisy ssroom fell silent amidst a series of eardrum-piercing screams. The bright red liquid ejected from George''s two nostrils at the same time stunned everyone. Professor Flitwick trotted over. When he saw the horrible scene and therge bloodstains on Fred''s robe, he also fell into a panic.

    "Fred, no, George, well, no matter who you are, can someone exin to me what''s going on!"

    "He''s going to die!" Fred supported George, who was pale and grieved, "Would you allow me to find a ce to bury my dear brother?"

    "No one dies, Weasley!" Professor Flitwick was annoyed. He said, "Take him to Madam Pomfrey to deal with it. If there is time, I hope you cane back and practice the Laughter Charm. This lesson is very important, Weasley, because¡ª" Flitwick didn''t finish his sentence. He stopped talking because, after hearing that he allowed them to go to the school hospital, the two Weasleys immediately jumped up lively and jumped out of the ssroom without looking back, leaving Professor Flitwick standing in a big pool of blood, his room messy.

    Because it was ss time, there were very few young wizards wandering around in the castle. Fred and George, who were holding their noses, ran all the way. When they reached the fourth floor, Fred suggested that he investigate Watson''s office by himself and let George go to the school hospital to simply deal with it.

    "We haven''t figured out the antidote for this, George. Maybe it will make all your blood dry!"

    "Don''t do it alone, Fred. You can''t take all the credit by yourself!" George rushed straight to the third floor, holding his gurgling nose that was bleeding.

    ording to the results of observation over the past few days, Bryan Watson would only leave his mysterious office between 10:30 and 11:00 in the morning and from 4:00 to 4:30 in the afternoon. Then he would go to the prefect''s bathroom to soak in a bath to relieve fatigue, and finally rush back without stopping.

    Cracking the protective spell on the office door turned out to be much easier than the twins had anticipated. A simple "Alohomora" spell was all it took.

    Sneaking into the room, Fred and George stooped low. The office had simple furnishings and didn''t warrant much attention. Standing before the ck curtain, the twins exchanged excited nces.

    "On the count of three, let''s unveil this mystery together!" Fred whispered eagerly to George.

    /FicFrenzy

 032 Failed Plans

    032 Failed ns

    "Please, tell me this isn''t just a dream, George," Fred eximed, his voice tinged with disbelief, as he slowly pulled back the ck curtain. The twin brothers stood in front of the mysterious investigator''s office, a mix of pride and exhration coursing through their veins. They had sessfully broken in, and now, they were about to uncover the secrets thaty within. However, as they stared at the wall before them, their excitement turned into frozen disbelief.

    Rubbing their eyes in utter disbelief, the twins stood there, their expressions a bizarre blend of shock, awe, and wonder. Their faces mirrored theical bewilderment of Muggles witnessing real magic for the first time. George, his voice barely a whisper, murmured an apology to his brother, still trying to process the sheer incredibility of the invention that unfolded before them. "I can''t make any guarantees, but I think we might have just stumbled upon the very means by which Mr. Watson has been covertly spying on all of Hogwarts from this very office. It''s mind-boggling!" he eximed, his words filled with a mixture of astonishment and excitement.

    "Yeah, mind-boggling indeed," Fred echoed, his voice tinged with a stunned sense of amazement, as he lowered his head to examine the parchment with floating words, then shifted his gaze to the grid pictures, each one containing a mesmerizing scene. With each passing moment, his breathing grew heavier, his mind struggling to fullyprehend the magnitude of what they had stumbled upon. "Our map and this... they''re iparable. But I still can''t wrap my head around the hows and whys of it all!" he eximed, his voice tinged with a blend of admiration and perplexity.

    After what felt like an eternity, the twins finally snapped out of their bewildered state, the fog of disbelief gradually lifting. As their consciousness fully returned, their first instinct was to slump against the wall, seeking sce in its sturdy presence, their minds reeling from the mind-bending discoveries they had just made.

    Filled with a mix of exhration and bewilderment, George, despite the slight trickle of blood from his nose, ignored the paleness on his face and the lingering dizziness in his head. His entire being was consumed by an insatiable desire to analyze and understand the groundbreaking invention of Mr. Watson, alongside Fred. How did these simple devices transform into such epoch-making marvels? What hidden mechanismsy behind their seemingly magical functionality?

    Lost in their thoughts, the twins delved deep into the inner workings of this remarkable creation. They eagerly explored the endless possibilities and profound implications that nowy before them. Their minds raced with excitement, contemting the boundless potential that Mr. Watson''s ingenuity had unleashed upon the world.

    "I bet you, Fred, with Percy''s prefect badge, that he must have employed highly advanced transfiguration," George eximed, his voice filled with reverence, as he prodded the wall with a mixture of curiosity and awe. "There must be some sort of alchemy tool involved, capturing images of various parts of the castle and transferring them onto this transformed wall, converting them into understandable visual representations¡ª" "It''s even more than that!" Fred interjected, his voice rising with a sense of wonder and discovery. "Look at the perspectives of these pictures, George. It''s as if he has installed hundreds of alchemical props throughout the castle, enabling him to monitor every nook and cranny. What kind of device could possess such remarkable functionality?"

    The twins stood before the wall, engaged in a non-stop discussion, dissecting and analyzing the technical means employed by the system. Gradually, they reached a consensus that this monitoring equipment harnessed a wide range of magical disciplines and a depth of knowledge that surpassed their own current capabilities.

    "You know, Fred, if we approach him sincerely, maybe Mr. Watson would be willing to share some insights with us," Fred expressed his hope, his gaze fixated on the screen, his mind racing with thoughts and possibilities. He nced at the map in his hand, which suddenly seemed inferiorpared to the awe-inspiring technology before them.

    "That''s a possibility, bro," George, with an ugly face due to his persistently bleeding nose, interrupted. "But if Mr. Watson has been monitoring everyone''s actions from this very office, does that mean..." The twins exchanged nces, a realization dawning upon them. Theirte-night adventures sneaking out of themon room must have been observed by Mr. Watson the entire time.

    "He didn''t report us to Professor McGonagall. Perhaps he coincidentally fell asleep while we were out," Fred conjectured, a mix of relief and disbelief coloring his voice.

    Though the matter lingered in their minds, they knew it wasn''t the right time to delve into it further. They hadn''t forgotten that Bryan Watson would soon finish his bath and return to the monitoring room. With the curtains drawn, Fred held his head in his hands, feeling a throbbing headache, while George, still feeling a bit dizzy, made his way toward the door. As his hand touched the doorknob and twisted it, a mournful expression washed over his face.

    "Fred, there''s some very interesting information that I can''t wait to share with you!" George said, squinting his eyes and pressing his hand against his forehead. "But I have a feeling you''ll have to wait until I''m lying in Madam Pomfrey''s hospital bed for me to tell you."

    "I''m afraid we won''t have the luxury of waiting, George," Fred replied, his voice tinged with urgency, as he vigorously twisted the doorknob, only to find it immovable. "I believe we should brace ourselves for an ambush."

    An awkward silence fell between the twins as they stared at each other, realizing the carelessness of the experienced wizard entrusted by the school board to investigate the danger. How could such a wizard leave this crucial monitoring room unguarded?

    Ten seconds passed, and then the twins swiftly initiated their self-rescue operation. They cast spell after spell, desperately trying to break through the door''s defenses, but to no avail. The door remained stubbornly imprable, repelling all their efforts.

    George, with determination burning in his eyes, broke free from Fred''s support, wand firmly in hand, and took aim at the doorknob from a distance of three feet. With a shared look of resolve, they simultaneously shouted, "Reducto!" However, the feeble light that apanied their spell flickered momentarily before returning to its original state, leaving the door unscathed.

    "Damn it, that sly fellow!" Fred cursed through gritted teeth, his frustration mounting. "He must have anticipated the arrival of curious little wizards like us and set up a trap to catch us!" In ast-ditch effort, Fred attempted several more spells, but each one was deflected by the powerful defensive spell protecting the door. Anxiously ncing at the parchment in his hand, Fred realized that the most primitive method might be their only option¡ªtrying to break the door down, hoping to seal it shut.

    "Stop with the foolishness, Fred!" George looked around, his gazending on the window overlooking the Forbidden Forest. "Come and help me, brother. Perhaps we can find a way to escape from here!"

    "Are you out of your mind, George?" Fred eximed, his eyes widening with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension. "We''re on the third floor! I''d rather face Mr. Investigator and be handed over to Professor McGonagall than risk jumping out and breaking my neck!"

    Despite Fred''s objections, George persisted, making his way to the window, his mind searching for a solution. However, after another round of futile attempts, the twins copsed on the ground, defeated by the impregnable barriers that stood before them.

    "Can you believe it, George?" Fred frantically scratched his head, his face contorted with despair. "Who in their right mind would put a protective spell on a window?"

    Unbeknownst to the twins, Bryan Watson emerged from the prefect''s bathroom with wet hair, humming a tuneless ditty, his spirits high. As he passed the statue of Stupid Boris, he couldn''t help but reflect on his decision to be a prefect during his school days. The privileges that came with the position were far beyond what ordinary wizards could even dream of. His office boasted a well-worn floor adorned with luxurious snow-white marble, and the spacious bathroom resembled a private swimming pool¡ªa sight that evoked envy in those who glimpsed it.

    However, the only downside was the portrait of a sleeping mermaid on the wall, who always seemed to sneak nces at his chiseled eight-pack abs whenever he rested, asionally leaving Bryan feeling a tad embarrassed.

    With just two minutes left until the little wizards would finish their sses, Bryan leisurely descended from the sixth floor to the third. A mischievous smile yed on his lips as he stood outside his office door, wand at the ready. His voice brimmed with excitement as he dered, "Now, it''s time to unravel the mystery of the intruder!"

    /FicFrenzy

 033 Letting Go

    033 Letting Go

    In Bryan''s office, Fred is exining why they broke into his office. George, lying on Bryan''s bed, moaned softly in a daze but had finally stopped bleeding after taking the recovery potion mixed with poisonous tentacle seeds prepared by Bryan.

    "Professor McGonagall did remind me to beware of you two¡ª"

    Bryan sat on his office chair, showing a dumbfounding expression in the face of Fred''s exnation "but she didn''t mention the possibility of you breaking into my office. You two are lucky. If my office room had been broke open, it''s likely that the intruder would have been caught, especially it may be an underage wizard so, The magic I keep in this office is mainly for confinement. If I had followed my usual practice when working outside..."

    Bryan looked at the Weasley brothers sternly and continued, "Perhaps at this point, Headmaster Dumbledore should be writing a letter of condolences to your parents!"

    Fred and George suddenly snapped back to reality. They realized that their actions this time were indeed too reckless. They shouldn''t have underestimated Bryan Watson, especially since they had no prior information about him or his temperament. Breaking into his office was a grave mistake, and they now understood the consequences of their actions.

    George, looking haggard and on the verge of copsing due to excessive bleeding, mustered the strength to sit up from the bed. He pleaded, "Please, Mr. Watson, for the lessons we''ve learned, could you refrain from mentioning this to Professor McGonagall? We promise it will be thest time." Fred nodded in agreement.

    "Please, Mr. Watson, George and I have discussed it while we were trapped here," Fred chimed in, his eyes filled with sincerity. "We n to turn over a new leaf, be young wizards who love learning and follow the rules. Can you let us go?"

    Bryan rolled his eyes, finding the twins'' antics amusing. Did he really appear that gullible?

    "For now, I''ll let it go," Bryan replied, not giving them an immediate affirmative answer. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his fingers on his knees, and looked at them with a half-smile.

    "You two have figured out my secret, haven''t you?"

    George, no longer on the verge of death, and Fred, no longer pretending to change his mind, both looked at Bryan with admiration. They couldn''t wait to praise him.

    "You''re the most talented wizard we''ve ever seen, Mr. Watson," Fred eximed loudly. "Even Headmaster Dumbledore can''tpare to you. The way you monitor the school is beyond our wildest dreams!"

    "We just want a deeper understanding of your greatness!" George added respectfully. "Could you please enlighten us on the details? How does it work?"

    Bryan rolled his eyes even more, wondering what had happened to the Weasley family with the exception of Bill''s good character and Charlie''s exceptional Quidditch talent. But he had to admit that Fred and George, despite their ws, were quite interesting.

    "Don''t even think about it!" Bryan responded, rejecting their request. He thought of Bill and Charlie once again. "Just the two of you... Well, you''re quite amusing, I must admit."

    When Bryan rejected their request, Georgey back on the bed with a loud thud, looking deeply hurt. He weakly extended his hand to Fred and said in a feeble voice, "It seems myst wish won''t be fulfilled, Fred. If you ever figure it out,e to my grave and tell me."

    In the end, Bryan decided not to disclose the production principle of the monitoring system to the twins. It wasn''t because he wanted to keep it to himself, but exining it would require much more than a few sentences. The principles involvedplex transformation magic and alchemy, and even if he exined, the twins wouldn''t fullyprehend or be able to reproduce it.

    However, Bryan showed generosity by not punishing Fred and George for breaking into his office since they had no involvement with the Chamber of Secrets.

    "Remember to keep what you saw a secret, you two!" Bryan warned them with a coldness in his voice before driving them out of his office. Fred and George were taken aback by his warning.

    "If I find out that you''ve leaked the secret or if I discover that you''ve tampered with the monitoring equipments I''ve set up in the castle, Mr. Weasley, if I decide to take action against anyone, not even Headmaster Dumbledore will be able to stop me!"

    "We swear on Percy''s prefect badge, sir, that we''ll never breathe a word to anyone else," the twins assured him in unison.

    "I hope you keep your promises," Bryan thought to himself before lying on the bed, closing his eyes to rest.

    Bryan knew deep down that it was unlikely for the Weasley brothers to keep the secretpletely. They would most likely tell Harry, who would never forget to share the kindness shown to his friends, but beyond that, the young wizard monitoring system was unlikely to be widely spread.

    The trio of the main group could be trusted, and the Weasleys were also trustworthy. It was Bryan''s preconceived notions that led him to spend more time than necessary to discover what he could have found quickly. It took a lot of effort.

    That night, as Harry and Ron returned from the school hospital, Fred and George pulled them into the lounge. Fred dragged Harry near the stairs of the girls'' dormitory, where there were fewer people, allowing them to have a private conversation.

    As they spoke, Harry''s expression grew serious, while Ron''s mouth hung open wider and wider, his face disying an unbelievably shocked expression.

    Unnoticed by anyone, a pale figure stood silently on the stairway of the girls'' dormitory, observing for a while before retreating into the shadows.

    "Wait for me here, Ron," Harry said, his mind made up. He quickly ran to the dormitory without looking back, intending to retrieve his invisibility cloak. He knew they would need to spend a little longer in the school hospital that night.

    With curfew time yet to arrive, there were still a few young wizards wandering around the castle. However, Harry and Ron had already donned the invisibility cloak. As they walked, their eyes asionally nced up at the ceiling, as if sensing hidden eyes watching them.

    "What do you think about this, Harry?"

    Strangely, Hermione was not in a hurry to express her opinion after hearing about this shocking incident, she sat on the bed with her arms folded, talking Her tone sounded cautious.

    Harry lowered his head and remained silent, his emerald green eyes flickering hesitantly. After a while, he spoke in an uncertain tone, "I don''t find it too hard to ept."

    "Are you crazy, Harry!" Ron eximed, surprised by Harry''s response. "Didn''t you hear what Fred and George said? Bryan was secretly monitoring everyone without prior notice. If such a vition of our privacy isn''t stopped, I don''t understand what''s more despicable than this is. And besides, I think it''s very likely that Fred and George might have been manipted or under some sort of control, they actually think this kind of behavior is funny and interesting?"

    "You can''t figure everything out, Ron," Hermione admonished without holding back. "Why can''t you try to see it from Harry''s perspective?"

    Ron''s eyes showed a strange dumbfoundedness. He looked at the furious Hermione for a moment, then at Harry, and suddenly felt that his intelligence level couldn''t keep up with the average of the group. "Could someone please be kind enough to exin it to me?"

    After a while, Ron muttered unhappily, still waiting for someone to express their opinion.

    "Do we really need to spell it out for you, Ron?" Hermione asked, absentmindedly ying with her ck hair¡ªa new hobby of hers recently. "Monitoring the daily activities of all the young wizards without prior notice is undeniably an unkind act, and it even vites thew. But, Ron, you can''t deny that it is an effective way, isn''t it? As long as they can catch the heir of Slytherin, all the rumors surrounding Harry will be debunked, and he won''t have to face those baseless usations anymore. And besides, without the permission of Headmaster Dumbledore and the Heads of Houses, do you really think Mr. Watson would employ such a method?"

    "At least," Harry muttered, feeling ashamed of his selfishness, "the next time someone gets attacked, something like this would prove my innocence. I really don''t want anything to do with it anymore."

    /FicFrenzy

 034 Suspicions

    034 Suspicions

    Time always passes by quietly and quickly, and in the blink of an eye, the first month of the second half of the year hase to an end.

    Any thrilling topic can''t beat the trivial daily life. Bryan, who entered Hogwarts in the name of the special investigator of the school board, did cause some waves at the beginning.

    However, because of his extremely low presence and the fact that two months have passed since thest attack, topics about him were quickly abandoned, and some people even forgot that there was a investigator from Slytherin in the school.

    Of course, some people believe that the reason why the attacks did not continue is that the hidden investigator yed a key deterrent role.

    For Harry, this was the best possible situation.

    People gradually stopped looking at him suspiciously. Even from the second week of school, Malfoy who had been arranging for Crabbe, Goyle, Daphne, Pansy, and others to go to Bryan''s office to report on Harry seemed to realize that his behavior was boring and began to die down.

    One more happy thing was that Hermione finally got rid of her embarrassing cat fur on her body, and Madam Pomfrey told them that she was going to release Hermione officially from the hospital at the weekend.

    Fred and George haven''t been very happy recently. Ever since they learned about Mr. Watson''s methods of monitoring the school, the two of them didn''t dare to wander around the castle unscrupulously at night, because although Mr. Watson seemed to be a very talkative person, it didn''t mean he could endure repeated provocations.

    At eight o''clock on Thursday night, Bryan stayed in his office, watching Harry and Ron go back to the Gryffindormon room, disappearing into the pictures on the wall.

    Now, nearly three weeks after his announcement, even Bryan himself had to admit that the first-hand attempt had almost officially failed.

    What to do next?

    Should he release the false news that the student who was attacked has regained his sobriety, or should he continue to wait?

    Bryan stared at the photo of him and Grandma Ferrena on the table and hesitated for a while.

    The ss mirror reflected a blurry but still recognizable youthful face that was much more haggard than before. Bryan had to admit that he somewhat underestimated the difficulty of this task and underestimated the opponent''s patience.

    Bryan''s eyes moved, and he looked at the notebook spread out on the table, full ofplex spell model deductions, and the opened letter paper. This letter was delivered this afternoon, and the person who wrote it was Kakus Fawley.

    Dear Mr. Watson,

    I am very sorry to disturb you on your way toplete themission, Mr. Watson, but there is one thing that I think you need to know.

    Recently, an unknown force suddenly appeared in the underground world, and they are asking about ''The whereabouts and true identity of the Golden Viper.'' Out of curiosity and vignce, I investigated a little bit and found that their leader is the client who released the mission to explore the magic relics before. At present, I have not yet found out what their goal is.

    Also, as far as I know, Lucius Malfoy has been active recently and seems to be nning to expel Albus Dumbledore from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

    Yours faithfully,

    Kakus Fawley

    Bryan rubbed his fingers, his expression condensed, and his deep eyes kept traversing the short words on the letter paper.

    There''s a group of people investigating the "Golden Viper." This was indeed an interesting development!

    Who could it be? Bryan thought quietly. He had been active in the underground world under the name ''Golden Viper'' for more than three years. To be honest, for various reasons, he had made quite a few enemies.

    But if it was someone with a personal vendetta against him, they wouldn''t have waited so long to make a move.

    Moreover, the letter mentioned Lucius Malfoy. His intuition told him that there might be a connection between the two incidents.

    But even if there was a life-and-death enmity with him, it was nothing more than a group of big wolfhounds who relied on their rough fur and hard skin.

    But since even Kakus couldn''t figure out their identities, the people investigating the Golden Viper must not be those annoying werewolves because those guys never bothered to hide their identities.

    This group that appeared out of nowhere might be the hidden force behind the attacks on Hogwarts!

    The hidden force and the investigation of the "Golden Viper" seemed to be unrted, but Bryan couldn''t help but connect them together.

    If the attack on Hogwarts was their operation, then they should have discovered his undercover identity, right?

    But why haven''t they made any moves against him yet?

    Perhaps they were waiting for an opportunity?

    Or maybe they were simply skeptical and couldn''t be sure?

    Kakus provided too little information, and Bryan couldn''t judge who was interested in him. Apart from reminding himself to be more vignt, there was no good way to deal with it for the time being.

    As for the second point mentioned by Kakus, Bryan didn''t care too much about Lucius Malfoy''s n to expel Dumbledore. It was unlikely that anyone with a brain would believe that Malfoy is capable of such a thing. The reason why Kakus mentioned this in his letter was nothing more than a vague reminder.

    Because Malfoy was firmly opposed to sending investigators before, if Lucius Malfoy really seeded in driving Dumbledore out of Hogwarts for a short time, then it also meant that he would be driven away immediately. In this case, the task of finding the ''Secret of the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets'' would be aplete failure.

    After sighing softly, Bryan got up and went to the bookshelf, taking out a copy of the Daily Prophet sent by the owl on Monday morning from the bottom shelf.

    Most of the news published in the newspaper''s legitimate edition consisted of peaceful and prosperous stories. There was only one article, written by Rita Skeeter, that provided a sharp critique of the "Muggle Protection Act" that was announced duringst summer and had been in effect for almost half a year.

    However, Bryan''s purpose in pulling out this newspaper was not to savor the amusing remarks of the ''renowned'' journalist known for her sarcasm, harshness, and nonsense. He turned to the seventh page of the newspaper and stared at the small-sized notice in the bottom right corner, deep in thought.

    "Currently, rmended by the Director of St. Mungo''s Magical Injury Hospital and approved by the hospital''s board of directors, Adele Fawley has been confirmed as the Director of the Department of Strange Bacteria and Infection. It is reported that Ms. Fawley entered St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Injuries and Illness as a therapist in September 1975. As of the date of the report, she has been working in the department for nearly eighteen years."

    Is this why Kakus Fawley tried his best to win themission to find the Slytherin treasure?

    Bryan''s gaze deepened. At first, he thought that the person who issued thismission was just a school wizard or dark wizard who coveted Slytherin''s secret treasures in the underground world, but now it seemed that things were not that simple.

    Who would have issued thismission?

    Bryan''s mind ran through a series of names of powerful officials of the Ministry of Magic, but he still couldn''t confirm the answer.

    Tuk tuk tuk -

    Bryan''s contemtion was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. He looked at the monitor and found that it was Professor Snape.

    The day and night life was too hard, so in these days, when Snape was free, he would asionallye over to help Bryan rest for a while, but usually, he would give Bryan a reminder in advance. He had never had a direct visit like this.

    After returning to school again, Professor Snape showed a very obvious alienation towards him, which once made Bryan feel very strange, but after thinking about it, he could understand it a little bit.

    Professor Snape may be afraid that if his old master returned one day, he would likely fall into the quagmire again and be unable to extricate himself.

    At that time, if too many people knew about his intimate rtionship with him, then he would also be dragged into the water. Therefore, the real purpose of Professor Snape''s deliberate indifference was probably to protect himself.

    "Still nothing new?" Snape, who was always in a hurry, strode into Bryan''s office. He stared at the young man behind the desk with a sluggish look. Too much poisonous smoke had caused subtle changes to the face that was always yellow and stiff.

    "Obviously." Bryan stood up and stretched his waist, sayingzily, "Are you here to help?"

    "Headmaster Dumbledore wants to see you," Snape said, moving his lips. He sneered, "Perhaps you should be ready to be fired, Bryan..."

 035 The Curse Of The Dark Lord

    035 The Curse Of The Dark Lord

    Since that fateful night when Bryan had first entered Dumbledore''s office after Christmas, there had been an underlying tension between them. It wasn''t because Bryan was particrly afraid of the contemporary greatest white wizard, but rather due to a sense of caution and wariness. As the saying goes, one should not fear a thief but rather fear the thief''s intentions. Bryan couldn''t shake off the feeling that Dumbledore had ulterior motives for summoning him once again.

    The circr office remainedrgely unchanged since Bryan''s previous visit, except for one notable difference. The phoenix he had encountered before, still a young bird back then, had now matured into a resplendent creature. Its once vibrant red and gold feathers now adorned its entire body, shimmering in the soft light of the office. However, the phoenix seemed undisturbed by Bryan''s presence, sleeping soundly with its head tucked beneath its wings in the brazier. Even the sound of Bryan''s footsteps passing by failed to rouse it from its slumber.

    As Bryan entered the office, Dumbledore appeared upied, engrossed in the act of answering someone''s letter. Upon noticing Bryan''s slightly fatigued appearance, the light in Dumbledore''s blue eyes softened considerablypared to their initial meeting

    "Good evening, Headmaster Dumbledore, I hope I didn''t disturb you," Bryan nodded, "I heard from Professor Snape that you seem to have something to discuss with me."

    Dumbledore beckoned him to sit down, with a smile on his face, but there was some me in his tone of voice, " Ah, that is indeed true, Bryan. Unfortunately, I''m afraid I won''t be able to offer you any decent wine this time. Moreover, considering your current mental state, I believe it would be best for you to abstain from alcoholic beverages."."

    Bryan smiled and didn''t speak, he could see that the old man was holding something bad in his heart!

    There was nothing new in the words of greeting. Dumbledore expressed his heartfelt thanks to him for his noble behavior of staying out at night for many days and doing his best to guard the safety of the young wizards. He also implicitly expressed his concern about his current physical condition and asked if Bryan needed some time off.

    "Thank you very much for your concern, Headmaster Dumbledore," Bryan cautiously refused to say a word, "It is the task entrusted to me by the school board to catch the attacker of the attack, and I have to be serious about my work. As well as the safety of the students, I will not leave my post without permission until the culprit surfaces."

    "Oh, such noble sense of responsibility. The safety of the young wizards is indeed important, but Bryan, your well-being is equally of concern to me," Dumbledore seemed moved by Bryan''s response. He sniffled, took off his sses, and wiped the moisture from them.

    "Severus and Minerva have mentioned their concerns to me on several asions," Dumbledore admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and worry. "They expressed their concerns about your overly dedicated work style. Both of them hope you can try not to be so tense. Even if new attack incidents ur, it is not solely your responsibility."

    Bryan furrowed his brows, a bit puzzled. Did Dumbledore call him here just to express gratitude?

    "¡ªEspecially Minerva. She believes that, in the absence of more leads, instead of spending a lot of time searching for the attacker, it would be better... cough, cough. She told me that she mentioned it to you during the Christmas break. Oh, speaking of that, I feel ashamed. It seems she thinks that the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor I brought in is not quitepetent and has hindered the young wizards ''learning''."

    As expected, Dumbledore had an ulterior motive for calling Bryan to his office.

    Dumbledore frowned in distress and fell silent, while Bryan raised an eyebrow high, his mouth twitching, without an immediate reply.

    An awkward and suffocating silence abruptly descended, leaving only the alchemical apparatus of uncertain purpose in Dumbledore''s office chiming and clinking like wind chimes.

    "Let me ask first, Headmaster Dumbledore¡ª" Bryan was the first to break the embarrassing silence after a long while, "If I refused your request, wouldn''t you arrest me and send me to Nurmengard or Azkaban or somewhere else?"

    "Oh, of course not, Bryan," Dumbledoreughed, "It''s all my fault, Bryan, I''m here to ask for your help... Actually, hey, sometimes I really wish someone could take care of my difficulties. Well, finding a qualified Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is much more difficult than finding out the twelve uses of dragon''s blood¡ª" Bryan pursed his lips, his expression showing no excess emotion, "About the professor of this course has always had unconfirmed rumors in private, Headmaster Dumbledore."

    "I can''t lie to you, Bryan," Dumbledore said with a solemn expression, nodding his head, "Although there is no direct evidence, since I rejected Voldemort''s application for this teaching position, no professor has been able to stay in this position for more than a year."

    Bryan sat calmly, without expressing any hasty opinion.

    "¡ª¡ªHowever, there are two Defense Against the Dark Arts professors in the school at the same time, and in the case of only teaching for a few months, I think the risk is controble."

    You think the risk is controble, why don''t you go and teach yourself?, Bryan secretly rolled his eyes but remained silent.

    "¡ªBut let me assure you, Bryan, if you choose to assist me, I am willing to provide you with a year''s worth of payment for your services. Think of the bright futures of those children who would benefit from your guidance," Dumbledore earnestly pleaded.

    Inside the office, Bryan sat in contemtion, pondering his next move. He did not readily ept or decline Dumbledore''s request, instead informing the Headmaster that he needed time to consider the matter.

    The curse that loomed over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position was no secret. Its power had remained formidable throughout the years, defying all attempts to weaken or break it, even from Dumbledore himself. It was evident that the Dark Lord had invested great effort into establishing the curse.

    ording to Bryan''s thoughts during the Christmas vacation, he would definitely not ept this risky and unpredictable job.

    As for why he didn''t immediately refuse now, it was because Bryan had new considerations.

    Before receiving this task and entering Hogwarts, Bryan subconsciously believed that thismission would only take a few months to solve; otherwise, the Chamber of Secrets case would interfere with the great savior Harry Potter''s adventures for the next school year.

    However, that may not be the case in reality.

    Because of his own intervention, the plot of the original book must have changed a lot, and this also means that the originally destined ending has actually changed.

    If that heir is really a very cautious person, then he doesn''t have to touch Bryan''s mold.

    If the heir is determined to be patient with Bryan, Bryan, who is passively waiting for clues, is almost doomed to fail in this protracted battle because it is impossible for Bryan to stay in school for the rest of his life because of this matter.

    In this case, the information that the Golden Trio has acquired is very important. As long as he can provide a key clue, Bryan is confident that he can follow the clues and find the secret chamber before everyone else.

    How to further gain Potter''s trust, Bryan has also thought about this issue, and the result of his thinking is that if he has always beenbeled as an investigator, then it may be difficult for him to breakthrough the rtionship between him and Potter,

    However, if Bryan assumed a different identity, such as that of a professor, it might facilitate a closer connection. Frequent interactions and shared opportunities would foster a friendlier rtionship..

    "Then..." After making up his mind, Bryan took a deep breath. He waved his wand to clean up the messy desk, "Let me experience your curse, Mr. Dark Lord."

 036 Not to be Underestimated

    036 Not to be Underestimated

    Bryan meticulously cleaned up the desk, ensuring that even the smallest items, such as the candlestick and the cherished photo of him and Grandma Ferena, were carefully relocated to other ces to prevent any potential damage.

    Beforemencing the task of rearranging, Bryan cast a brief nce at the monitoring wall across the room. Hogwarts appeared serene, with no significant incidents taking ce at that moment. Letting out a sigh, Bryan returned to the bedside to retrieve his suitcase. After rummaging through it, he retrieved a peculiar candlestick.

    The lower section of the candlestick featured a voodoo doll with eyes asrge as a baby''s fist and teeth bared, extending below its earlobes. The doll''s body was ck, while its face, swollen and disying a terrifying smile, was roughly half the size of its body.

    Bryan preferred not to delve into the origins of this doll. He had acquired it as an alchemy item from the underground trading market, sold by a wizard hailing from wakadorga in Africa.

    Wakadorga, among the countries with flourishing magical civilizations, was known for its chaotic nature. This was perhaps due to the influence of its intricate Muggle social order. Even now, many people lived in tribalmunities there, with the tribal leaders usually being witches with extensive lineage.

    The tribal witches and wizards in Wakadorga still retained numerous ancient and brutal spells. Cursing and sacrifice were their favored methods, They performed dark rituals and practices that even a formidable wizard like Bryan preferred not to provoke.

    The upper part of the candlestick held a transparent tube containing candle liquid. Since the doll had not been used previously, the tube remained pristine, devoid of any stains.

    Next, it was time to prepare the candle liquid. Bryan reached into the box once more, retrieving a bottle of scarlet dragon''s blood. This particr bottle contained the blood of a Norwegian red-scaled dragon that Bryan had in. During the encounter, he had collected a substantial amount of dragon blood. Concerned about attracting the attention of the Ministry of Magic with excessive use, Bryan had amassed a significant reserve of dragon blood.

    As known to many, the body of a fire dragon held immense treasures, particrly its blood and nerves, which were infused with potent magical energy, making them ideal ingredients for potions and spellcasting.

    Bryan poured the dragon''s blood into the transparent tube atop the voodoo doll''s head. He observed the crystal-red mist forming on the surface of the slightly rippling liquid, nodding in satisfaction. It was now time to pay a small price.

    Rolling up his sleeves, Bryan bared his arms, causing a dark silver light to flicker in the surrounding air. The spurting blood from his arm condensed into a coagted stream, guided by the influence of his magic power, flowing urately into the tube, merging with the dragon blood.

    An ominous magic power permeated the office, seemingly capable of devouring light. The candlesticks on the bookshelf, once radiant, grew dimmer and dimmer, as if tainted by dust.

    Bryan''s expression turned solemn, the twovender vortexes in his eyes seeming to swirl in slow motion. With a steady hand, he continued to wave his wand, causing ck tadpole-like runes to emerge from the wand, their gray glow indicating signs of life. These tadpole runes swam in the void before Bryan, leaving faint ink-like traces on the space they traversed.

    "Go," Bryanmanded with a tone of mild majesty. Following his words, hundreds of tadpole runes rushed toward the mixture of dragon blood and his own blood, akin to weary birds returning to their nests.

    Suddenly, an eerie breeze swept through the tranquil room, the tadpole runes agitating the blood, causing it to spin

    Small blood-red electric sparks intermittently erupted from the undting liquid''s surface, creating a captivating yet disconcerting sight.

    Bryan continuously infused his magic power into the concoction, creating a gray current of air. Under the catalytic effect of his own magic power, the magic within the tadpole runes gradually merged with the magic within the blood, causing the dragon blood to transition from a smooth liquid to a viscous state. Just before the blood fully solidified, Bryan plucked a lock of hair from his head and dropped it in. At that moment, a vibrant red candle with a flickering wick was finally crafted.

    In the dimly lit room, Bryan wiped away imaginary beads of sweat from his forehead. He straightened his posture, his expression still serious.

    "Peng!"

    A towering me, nearly three feet high, emanated from the lit candle, surrounded by a dark gray halo. From a distance, it resembled a ming torch positioned above the voodoo doll''s head.

    By all ounts, a candle burning at such a staggering pace wouldst mere minutes before extinguishing. However, the stout form of this peculiar candle refused to diminish. It seemed as though the consumed elements were not the candle''s liquid or wick.

    "It is up to you," Bryan murmured softly, his eyshes trembling slightly. Standing before the voodoo doll, he held his wand upright, his expression profoundly solemn. His low tone seemed to carry the weight of an oath, as if conducting a momentous ceremony.

    "I, Bryan Watson, willingly ept the invitation of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry''s Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, to serve as an assistant professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts," he intoned, the sound reverberating in the room.

    In that very instant, the air in the office trembled violently. A tremendously powerful and malevolent curse, forced into action, descended upon Bryan through the barriers of time and space. In a trance-like state, he seemed to hear the agonized screams of countless tortured and brutally murdered individuals in their final moments.

    Simultaneously, Albus Dumbledore, seated behind his desk on the eighth floor, jolted from his contemtion. He swiftly turned his head, fixing his sharp, solemn, blue eyes towards Bryan''s office. It was as if he could see, through theyers of walls, the exact events unfolding before Bryan''s eyes.

    As the curse''s power was directed towards him, Bryan had prepared a substitute, sessfully diverting the actual curse away. However, upon encountering the voodoo doll, the curse swiftly realized it had been deceived.

    An enraged roar reverberated through the void, transforming the cursing power, infused with trembling magical energy, into a tangible and rapidly expanding dark bubble. It engulfed the voodoo doll, hurtling towards Bryan!

    Observing the impending failure of the substituted curse, Bryan remainedposed. His eyelids fluttered, and his slightly furrowed brow added a touch of majesty to his otherwise indifferent expression. Standing two feet away, Bryan suddenly retracted his raised right hand, firmly pressing the tip of his wand against the materialized curse''s force.

    A strong gust of wind, created by the sh between the expanding curse and Bryan''s powerful magic, surged from the tip of his wand. It swept through the entire office, filling every inch of space with fleeting gray lightning.

    Even the images disyed on the monitoring wall flickered continuously due to the violent magic maic field that enveloped the entire floor.

    The enigmatic vortexes in Bryan''s eyes began spinning once more. His entire being bathed in a thin, imperceptible twilight. The magic consumed by the wand''s tip resembled the tide of a typhoon, each surge growing stronger than thest.

    As time passed, the bubble formed by the curse''s power gradually lost momentum. It began to shrink, inch by inch, eventually retracting fully into the voodoo doll''s body.

    At that very moment, a slender crack appeared on the voodoo doll''s grinning face, running across its prominent nose. The mes that had been burning vigorously diminished to a mere third of their original size.

    Within the circr office, Headmaster Dumbledore wore a wry smile on his lips. He stood up involuntarily, cing his hand on Fox''s paw, then slowly settled back into his seat.

    As for Professor Lockhart, his office located on the third floor, he had been on the verge of falling asleep in the faculty dormitory. His heavy breathing and the act of rubbing his eyes were interrupted by a jolt of energy akin to consuming arge jar of vitality tonic.

    "Ah, fortunate little witch!" Lockhart eximed with a gleeful smile, returning to his desk. He retrieved a magnificent peacock quill from the pen holder and began writing with great fervor.

    "Congrattions on receiving my response a day earlier!"

    "It''s truly challenging to deal with," Bryan muttered, his gaze fixed upon the voodoo doll with intricate markings. Finally, a rxed smile crossed his face...

    Author''s Note: The things about wakadorga in the above text is a fiction, the ce is also imaginary but if it matches with the name of a ce then that is just a coincidence.

    /FicFrenzy

 037 Professorship

    037 Professorship

    Thest day of January happened to fall on a beautiful weekend. The weather was exceptionally pleasant, with the bright sunshine illuminating the Hogwarts grounds at around eight or nine o''clock in the morning. Its golden rays danced on the surface of the sparklingke, reflecting a mesmerizing y of light. Along the tranquilke bank, the row of willow trees sprouted fresh buds, their delicate green leaves unfurling with the promise of spring. The lush greenwn swayed gently in the breeze, as if weing the arrival of a new season. The air was filled with the quiet andfortable essence of the passing years, carrying a sense of serenity and rejuvenation.

    On the Quidditch field, the teams from the four major houses, distinguished by their distinct uniforms of varying styles and colors, appeared simultaneously. After engaging in some challenging and asionally intense negotiations, they each staked their im on a corner of the field and began practicing their team''s tactics. However, mindful of safeguarding their core strategies, only the resolute and focused Hufflepuff team revealed their true level, while the other three teams concealed their abilities, leaving their opponents guessing in anticipation.

    It took Bryan two days to finally adjust his biological clock to the new schedule. Standing by the window, he gazed out at the vibrant sight of Hogwarts. The soft gray strands of his hair were gently tousled by the breeze, adding to his rare moment of contentment. In that tranquil moment, he made a resolution. Henceforth, anymission that required him to work night shifts continuously woulde with a non-negotiable condition¡ªa fee that was 20% higher than the prevailing market price.

    As Bryan strolled through the castle, he encountered curious gazes from the little wizards he passed. Almost everyone knew him as the investigator sent by the school board, whose nocturnal habits resembled those of a bat. It was a well-known fact that he rarely made appearances during the day, making sightings of him in daylight rarer than spotting a troll roaming the castle corridors.

    In the auditorium, the students who had risente from their slumber scattered themselves sparsely across the seats. At the staff table, three esteemed professors¡ªFlitwick, Sprout, and Snape¡ªsat together, engaged in hushed conversation. Their eyes lit up with surprise as they spotted Bryan approaching. Professor Flitwick, unable to contain his excitement, promptly stood up from his stool and extended his congrattions.

    "We were just discussing you," he revealed, his voiceced with enthusiasm.

    Flitwick lowered his voice, leaning in closer. "We have received some gratifying news from Minerva," he shared, his words tinged with excitement. "Bryan, we firmly believe that you are more than qualified for this job."

    "The condition, however, is that you reveal your true level," Professor Sprout added, adjusting the patched and dusty hat atop her head. A yful smile graced her lips as she continued, "Of course, even if you were to show just one-thousandth of your strength, it would far surpass that show-off''s exaggerated ims."

    Bryan responded to theirpliments with a kind and appreciative smile. Modestly, he acknowledged, "Education is an expansive and profound field. Possessing knowledge oneself is one thing, but effectively imparting it to young wizards is an entirely different skill. Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout, your wealth of experience far surpasses mine."

    Bryan''s skillfulpliment elicited genuine delight from the two professors. Flitwick turned his head towards Snape, who pretended to be unfamiliar with Bryan, and shed a mischievous smile.

    "I''m afraid Severus will be quite disappointed," he remarked yfully. "I''ve lost count of how many times he has failed in thepetition for this teaching position. And now, to lose to his favorite student~~~Maybe Severus is used to this kind of defeat?" Professor Sprout chimed in, her magic knife slicing through the air, causing Bryan to burst intoughter as he savored his toast.

    A dark scowl descended upon Snape''s face, and he emitted a soft, disdainful snort. "There''s nothing to be proud of in being the professor of this course, Bryan. If you manage to safely step down from this teaching position, that alone would be considered an aplishment."

    Bryan''s smile remained unwavering as he responded, "Just because there are things you can''t do doesn''t mean I can''t, Professor." His words further deepened the frown on Snape''s face, adding ayer of satisfaction to Bryan''s countenance.

    After a rxed and joyous breakfast, everyone dispersed, making ns to meet up for a drink or two at the Three Broomsticks when time allowed. Bryan, however, didn''t return to his quarters. Instead, he headed straight for Professor McGonagall''s office. The meeting had been scheduled in advance, so herck of surprise at his arrival was expected.

    "Oh, thank God you''re finally here!" Professor McGonagall eximed, her lips slightly pursed. Evidently, the absence of trouble from the heir to the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets had improved her mood andplexionpared to the Christmas holidays.

    "I must express my gratitude to you, Bryan. There are several older students who have always dreamt of bing Aurors after graduating. You see, bing an Auror requires a minimum of five NEWTS certificates, including Defense Against the Dark Arts. If they were to continue following Gilderoy''s teaching methods, their dreams would be shattered prematurely!" Professor McGonagall''s tone carried a mix of appreciation and concern.

    Bryan responded with a wry smile, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. "I can only do my best, Professor McGonagall. But please don''t expect too much from me. I''ve never been particrly skilled at exams, let alone helping young wizards pass theirs. And if there are any leads regarding the Chamber of Secrets incident, I will prioritize addressing them."

    "We have all witnessed your capabilities, Bryan," Professor McGonagall stated, lifting her chin slightly. Her tone revealed a touch of displeasure. "You really need to shed some of your excessive modesty. As for the Chamber of Secrets, well, I can no longer concern myself with it. Let Headmaster Dumbledore take the reins. He should also do something serious."

    Bryan could only respond with a bittersweet smile, realizing that his words would have little impact.

    "Now, regarding the division of work between you and Gilderoy, I have a suggestion," Professor McGonagall said, her tone shifting to one of seriousness. "The most pressing matter is to provide assistance to the students in the fifth and seventh grades. They are on the verge of facing the two most important exams of their lives, which will shape their futures. Bryan, I hope you can split the workload with Gilderoy, with him overseeing the teaching below the fifth grade while you take charge of the fifth to seventh grades."

    Bryan contemted the proposal for a moment, choosing to withhold a clear answer. Professor McGonagall''s allocation n seemed reasonable, but it contradicted his original intention for epting the teaching position. After all, what would be the purpose of his efforts if he only ended up assisting a few individuals from the protagonist group?

    "I believe it would be best for me to discuss this matter with Professor Lockhart first, Professor McGonagall," Bryan finally replied, leaving his response open-ended.

    With that, Bryan left Professor McGonagall''s office and headed directly to Professor Lockhart''s quarters. Time was of the essence; he needed to finalize the details that morning and spend the afternoon and evening preparing. Though his motivations for bing a professor might not have been entirely pure, he had no intention of simply idling by and allowing his reputation to suffer the same fate as Professor Lockhart''s.

    As Bryan made his way, he couldn''t help but find himself pondering the enigma that was Gilderoy Lockhart. What teaching method could receive unanimous "good reviews" from all the professors and most of the young wizards at Hogwarts? Even Professor McGonagall and Principal Dumbledore had put aside their reservations and asked him to e forward." The answer to this mystery intrigued Bryan, motivating him to find out more, With a sense of curiosity and determination, Bryan came to the door of Professor Lockhart''s quarters.

 038 Guilt

    038 Guilt

    Half past ten in the morning on the weekend, Bryan found himself standing in front of Professor Lockhart''s office, a mixture of anticipation and guilt swirling within him. Despite not harboring any particr dislike for the professor with a not-so-good reputation, Bryan couldn''t shake off the burden of guilt. Their previous interactions had revealed Lockhart''s friendly demeanor, albeit with an exaggerated speaking style.

    However, Bryan couldn''t ignore the guilt he felt towards Lockhart and there were two reasons behind it. The first reason was quite obvious. Taking someone else''s job without giving them any notice, especially when they were doing well as the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, was essentially taking someone''s livelihood. Such behavior, to put it seriously, was highly hical.

    The second reason was a bit moreplicated.

    A few days ago, Bryan had found a way to forcefully transfer the curse that the Dark Lord had ced on this position to a voodoo doll. The benefit of doing so was that Bryan himself wouldn''t have to bear the risks of the curse, and consequently, Lockhart''s risk of facing the consequences of the curse was significantly reduced.

    At first nce, this seemed like a win-win situation. However, it was not so.

    To illustrate, the curse of the Dark Lord was like a rushing river. Bryan''s way of resisting the curse was like building a dam on the river, blocking the turbulent flow of water. As long as the dam was strong, he would be safe behind it. But if one day the dam copsed or if he voluntarily removed the dam, the water umted at a high level would be even more ruthless.

    Of course, if Professor Lockhart resigned and ran away before Bryan, then he would have to bear all the consequences himself.

    "Pleasee in!"

    Lockhart''s cheerful voice beckoned Bryan to enter the office, seemingly unaware of any unusual circumstances. "I hope he''s not too mad..." Bryan murmured softly to himself as he pushed open the door.

    Inside, Professor Lockhart''s office mirrored the mboyance of the man himself. The walls were adorned with an array of portraits showcasing Lockhart''s charismatic charm. Even in the morning sunlight, the room was bathed in the glow of numerous candles, their reflections bouncing off the pearly white teeth captured in the photographs and nearly blinding Bryan. There''s another noteworthy point: among the staff at Hogwarts, perhaps only the letters Professor Lockhart received could rival those received by Headmaster Dumbledore. The stack of letters waiting for a reply on his desk was probably five feet high.

    To Bryan''s surprise, he spotted Hermione standing across from Lockhart, hurriedly attempting to conceal a golden card in her pocket. Her face flushed with embarrassment as Bryan addressed her. "Oh, Miss Granger, I didn''t expect you to be here too!"

    Hermione stammered in response, her voice betraying her nervousness. "Go-Good morning, Mr. Watson!"

    Raising an eyebrow and unable to resist a yful remark, Bryan teased her, "So, I assume Madame Pomfrey has taken care of your beautiful... condition."

    Caught off guard, Hermione blinked nervously and averted her gaze, confirming Bryan''s suspicions. "Oh well, congrattions on your recovery, Miss Granger, then."

    Apologizing to Lockhart for the interruption, Bryan expressed his concern. "I''m sorry to interrupt your conversation, Professor Lockhart, if it''s inconvenient for you now."

    Lockhart waved away his concerns with a warm smile. "Oh, don''t leave. I can''t deny one fan rejecting another fan, Bryan. Miss Granger came to express her gratitude, and we''ve finished our discussion!"

    As Hermione''s curious eyes lingered on them, Bryan realized she must have misunderstood the situation.

    However, he decided against exining the harmless misunderstanding, opting instead to enter the office with a wry smile.

    Although Hermione''s curiosity piqued about why Bryan had sought out Professor Lockhart, she understood that she wouldn''t be allowed to stay and eavesdrop. Reluctantly, she left the office, but her departure wasn''t without a small incident. In her haste, she identally knocked over the towering pile of letters waiting for a reply, scattering them across the floor.

    "I''m sorry, Professor, I''ll help you now," Hermione eximed, frantically searching for her wand.

    Amused by her slight panic, Bryan shook his head and approached her with a reassuring smile. "No need to bother, Miss Granger, leave it to me!"

    Observing Hermione panting and wheezing, Bryan took charge of the situation. His eyes scanned the messy floor and the cluttered desk until they froze upon spotting a stack of aged parchment concealed beneath the letters. Quickly regaining hisposure, he snapped his fingers crisply, invoking his magical prowess. Like a choreographed ballet, the hundreds of letters, wrapped in various envelopes, floated gracefully in the air, guided by hismand. With precision, they returned to their rightful ces, restoring order to Lockhart''s desk.

    As the letters settled back into their neat stacks, Bryan couldn''t help but wonder what requests were hidden within those envelopes. Nevertheless, he pushed the curiosity aside, knowing that his purpose in the office was far more important than indulging in idle spection.

    "In my opinion, you are probably the most popr teacher in this school at the moment, Professor Lockhart," Bryan remarked, attempting to steer the conversation in a new direction.

    Lockhart, still somewhat stiff from witnessing Bryan''s impressive silent and wandless spellcasting, immediately brightened with delight. "Indeed, it''s more than mere poprity. Once you be fully integrated into the team of professors, you''ll find that Gilderoy Lockhart captures the most attention among them. After all..." Lockhart''s voice trailed off yfully.

    Bryan blinked, taking a deep breath to keep up with Lockhart''s unabashed self-praise. "How many people can im the ''Wizard Weekly'' Award for the Most Charming Smile five times in a row, be a recipient of the Order of Merlin Third ss, and an honorary member of the Dark Arts Defense League? Of course, Bryan, you must be well acquainted with my illustrious past, just like Miss Granger, right?"

    Lockhart seemed entirely absorbed in his own world, oblivious to Bryan''s growing restlessness. "Oh, hehe, Bryan, I must admit, you continue to surprise me. You''ve worked diligently to follow in my footsteps here at Hogwarts, and now you''ve even managed to have a conversation with Professor McGonagall to get closer to me. Brilliant! Bryan, you stand out as one of my most ardent devotees!"

    Bryan pressed his lips together, his expression growing tense. He was beginning to understand why this renowned author had be such a prizing figure within the walls of Hogwarts. However, it also provided him with insight into how to navigate a conversation with Lockhart.

    "Ahem, that''s true, Professor Lockhart. I am indeed an admirer of yours," Bryan conceded, surrendering to the situation.

    "Aha!" Lockhart eximed dramatically, chuckling with an air of self-importance.

    "Yes, that''s true. I applied to be an Assistant Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts to get closer to you. I hoped to enhance my own skills in your ss alongside the young wizards. However, Professor McGonagall seems to think that managing fan letters and teaching hundreds of students tobat dark magic is too much for you alone. She suggests that I share the workload and teach the senior students on my own. Honestly, it aligns with my original intention," Bryan exined, doing his best to maintain Lockhart''s interest.

    "Needless to say, Bryan, I understand precisely what you mean," Lockhart interjected, beaming with confidence. "You wish to teach alongside me, don''t you? No problem at all! Gilderoy Lockhart would never turn down a request from a devoted fan!"

    Bryan was taken aback by how effortlessly he had achieved his objective. It left him contemting how Lockhart had managed to be such a disliked figure within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

    Before leaving the office, Bryan lingered by the door, wearing a thoughtful expression. "By the way, Professor Lockhart... Have you ever conducted any research on memory magic?"

    /FicFrenzy

 039 Expectations

    039 Expectations

    As we all know, at Hogwarts, if a secret is known by more than one student or professor, the news will usually spread within one to three days, depending on how explosive it is. Even Hagrid''s dog, Fang, knew about it.

    As everyone discussed the surprising news of Mr. Bryan bing their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Harry overheard the conversation despite spending the entire day without leaving except for going to the restroom and relied on a few pieces of beef brought by Ron for lunch. He hobbled his way to the couch where Ron, Neville, and Seamus often discussed matters, maneuvering past jubnt senior students.

    "Is it true, Ron? Mr. Watson is going to be our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor!"

    "It''s just the assistant professor, Harry," Ron rified, making room for Harry, who was exhausted. "The news first came from Hufflepuff. I thought it was a joke, but on the way back from delivering your lunch, I overheard Ravenw''s Michael and Terry discussing it in the hall. Apparently, Malfoy has already gone to confirm it with Snape," Ron exined.

    Ron furrowed his brow, looking perplexed. "Honestly, I still can''t understand how this happened!"

    "But it''s a good thing, isn''t it?" Neville cautiously expressed his opinion, but when he noticed everyone looking at him, he immediately shrank his neck and hesitated, "I mean, he''s an investigator, and he should know better than Lockhart when ites to dealing with dark magic!"

    Harry and Ron looked at each other without answering. It was hard to determine the teaching abilities of Mr. Watson since they hadn''t seen him yet. Judging from Lockhart''s performance in the dueling ssst semester, it seemed unlikely that Lockhart could match Mr. Watson''s skill, no matter how good he was at ttery.

    At that moment, the Weasley twins, who had also just arrived, enthusiastically high-fived each other upon hearing the news, celebrating the prospect of their great adventures once again. Neville looked perplexed, but Harry and Ron understood what it meant. If Mr. Bryan became the assistant professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, it meant that Fred and George wouldn''t have his magical surveince on them every night. It was like a weight was lifted off from the Weasley twins.

    Boom!

    Suddenly, Hermione walked over and mmed the heavy books she was carrying onto the coffee table, nearly copsing it. She squeezed herself next to Harry without any reservation, forcing Neville, who upied the most space, to stand up.

    "Where have you been? Haven''t seen you all day?" Ron asked, frowning at Hermione, who seemed to be in a good mood.

    "Where else, Ron? The library, of course. I missed sses for a whole month, and now I have to race against time to catch up," Hermione rolled her eyes, as if Ron had asked a stupid question. "By the way, what were you guys talking about just now?"

    Harry spoke cautiously, "We were discussing Mr. Watson bing a professor''s assistant. We were trying to understand why this happened and why he would be involved with this course. His original intention foring to Hogwarts was to catch the heir of Slytherin, so it''s strange that he''s suddenly connected to this ss."

    Seamus chimed in, suggesting, "Maybe he has already secretly dealt with the heir."

    However, it was evident to everyone that this spection didn''t hold up. If Mr. Watson had truly resolved the Chamber of Secrets incident, the school would surely make a big announcement about it.

    "It''s also possible that he has given up on that n. Think about it, Dumbledore couldn''t solve the problem, so how could a young wizard who came out of nowhere have the ability to solve it? Maybe he just wants to make some money while he''s not yet kicked out of the school by the headmaster. As far as I know, professors are paid handsomely," Dean suggested.

    This equally absurd spection came from Dean. Dumbledore is not someone easily fooled, and if Bryan Watson really had such a shameful n, Dumbledore would definitely see through it, at least ording to Harry''s belief.

    Amidst the conversations, Harry couldn''t help but feel a sense of relief that, within this circle of friends, no one seemed to perceive him as the heir of Slytherin. As he rubbed his numb hips, he summoned the courage to voice his uncertain opinion. He was hesitant because he feared his thoughts might anger Hermione.

    "I had an encounter with Mr. Watson before," Harry began tentatively. "He''s a powerful wizard. If he chose to be the professor of this course... well, is it possible that, like Quirrell, Lockhart is also putting on a weak and showman-like act and may be somehow connected to the heir of Slytherin?"

    Hiss.

    Except for Hermione and Harry, everyone let out a gasp of cold air. Ron stared at Harry in shock and stammered, "You, You mean Lockhart is acting?"

    "You''re overestimating his abilities, Harry!"

    Dean was the first to express his objection, and he said sharply, "I can''t see that he has such ability!"

    Ron, who had always despised Lockhart, couldn''t bring himself to believe that someone like Lockhart could be the heir of Slytherin or possess the necessary abilities. Being the heir of Slytherin was no easy task, and it seemed highly unlikely that Lockhart, with his reputation for being more show than substance, could be connected to such dark and powerful wizard.

    Harry''s suggestion was also met with skepticism from the others. Gilderoy Lockhart was notorious for his habit of embellishing stories and showering himself with ttery. Except for a few die-hard fans, the general consensus among the young wizards was that hecked genuine magical prowess. It was difficult for them to imagine Lockhart having the skills and knowledge necessary to be connected to the heir of Slytherin. They couldn''t help but question Harry''s theory, considering Lockhart''s history of being more about self-promotion than actual magical ability. To them, it was hard to imagine that Lockhart could be anything more than a chatan.

    "I understand it''s hard to believe," Harry continued, his own uncertainty evident in his voice. "But if Lockhart''s ipetence was just a disguise, simr to how Quirrell deceived everyone initially, then it would make sense why Mr. Watson took on this challenging role. After all, he was also a student at Hogwarts, so he must be aware that being the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor often leads to unfortunate oues. I mean, perhaps he has stumbled upon something significant, but he hasn''t revealed it..."

    Harry couldn''t continue as his words were interrupted by Hermione''s heavy coughing.

    Everyone turned their attention to Hermione, whose face had gone from happy to ugly. Ron asked in surprise, "What''s your opinion, Hermione?"

    Hermione gave Ron a bitter look and then raised her chin haughtily. "I went to Professor Lockhart''s office this morning."

    "You went to Lockhart''s office?" Ron immediately interrupted Hermione. "Don''t you already have one of his autographs?"

    Harry quickly kicked Ron, reminding him to stop talking. It didn''t matter whether Lockhart was a suspect or not, or why Hermione had gone to his office. What mattered was that he would need Hermione''s help toplete the potions and history of magic homework in theing years. If Hermione waspletely annoyed with them now, there would be no way for Harry to survive in the future.

    In the middle of the night, Harryy on the soft four-poster bed, squinting his eyes. His mind was filled with the menacing voice, his own Parsel-tongue abilities, Dobby''s warning, and Malfoy''s news about the Chamber of Secrets being opened fifty years ago. He was probably the person in this school most obsessed with this matter. Unless the culprit was caught and the Chamber of Secrets incident waspletely resolved, he wouldn''t be able to fully rx.

    "But how is this possible, Harry?" Ron whispered in a low voice, turning over on his bed.

    "How could someone like Watson be a fan of Lockhart? It''s ridiculous to think that he became Lockhart''s assistant just to get close to him. Hermione''s idea is absurd. It can''t be true. The things in his book are real?... no, I don''t believe this!" Ron expressed his disbelief.

    "I don''t know, Ron," Harry replied, squirming as he faced the window. He stared at the brilliant stars, letting the hazy drowsiness overtake his consciousness. With an impressive gentle smile andvender eyes in his mind, he muttered, "But at least, we can look forward to this ss."

    /FicFrenzy

 040 Lockhartâ€™s Teaching Method

    040 Lockhart¡¯s Teaching Method

    The first week of February had arrived, and the Hogwarts Castle was abuzz with the anticipation of Valentine''s Day. The Forbidden Forest, usually shrouded in a cloak of winter, began to show signs of new life as the gentle spring breeze breathed life into the withered trees, causing them to sprout fresh buds in abundance.

    While the younger students in the first and second grades remained blissfully unaware of the significance of Valentine''s Day, the middle and senior students understood the importance of this festival all too well. Love was in the air, and the castle was brimming with excitement.

    Cedric stood at the entrance of the Ravenwmon room, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Encouraged by his roommates, he blocked the path of a beautiful Chinese girl, clutching in his hands a carefully crafted singing Cupid card. The forbidden forest outside seemed to mirror the budding romance within the castle walls, as new life sprouted from the once withered trees under the gentle touch of the spring breeze.

    In another part of the castle, the studious Percy couldn''t bear the loneliness that Valentine''s Day brought. Seizing an opportune moment during Professor McGonagall''s transfiguration ss, he skillfully transformed a smander into the likeness of his beloved Penelope. A mischievous smirk danced across his face as he relished a few moments of pretending to be with her.

    The usually enigmatic Headmaster Dumbledore, known for his wisdom and entricity, surprised the staff with a rare disy of gentlemanly charm. He ordered bouquets of flowers from Hogsmeade, personally selecting and sending one to every female staff member of Hogwarts. The castle was filled with the sweet scent of roses, lilies, and daisies, spreading a sense of warmth and appreciation throughout the corridors. Of course, the mboyant Professor Lockhart couldn''t resist the allure of the asion. Overjoyed at lunch, he announced his grand n to write a song for everyone in the school, teasing that he had a magnificent surprise in store for Valentine''s Day.

    However, not everyone shared Lockhart''s enthusiasm. The dark and brooding Professor Snape, known for his sarcasm and disdain, couldn''t hide his contempt for Lockhart''s grandstanding. With a cold, low voice, he leaned towards Bryan, his potions apprentice, and whispered, "Is it possible for you to eliminate this imbecile before that day arrives?"

    Bryan, caught off guard by Snape''s request, chewed his bacon thoughtfully, dumbfounded by the suggestion. "I''ll do my best, Professor," he replied, contemting Snape''s words. "But why don''t you concoct a poison yourself? After all, you are a master of potions. I believe you excel in such matters."

    After lunch, Bryan used the short break to review the surveince footage from the previous night, hoping to uncover any clues. But to his frustration, the footage revealed nothing of significance.

    As Monday afternoon arrived, the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth-years gathered for their shared Defense Against the Dark Arts ss. The ssroom was adorned with the air of anticipation, Ten minutes before two o''clock in the afternoon, the sixth-grade students arrived in the ssroom one after another. Although the news had already spread, when the little wizards found that Mr. Investigator had really appeared in their ss, they still showed expressions of surprise and excitement. Their eyes darting between Bryan and the empty podium. He had chosen to wear a brand-new ck wizard robe, a symbol of respect for the asion.

    Professor Lockhart hadn''te yet, and only Bryan was standing on the podium with a smile on his face, facing the noisy Gryffindor and Slytherin students who were sitting in distinct positions.

    Everyone here had been with Bryan in school, but he didn''t remember most of them except for a select few.

    "Flint, I heard that you are now the captain of the Slytherin team?" When Bryan spoke, the voice in the ssroom seemed to suddenly pause, and all eyes were on Marcus and Bryan.

    "Yes, sir,..... I mean Professor Watson," Flint said, his voice trembling slightly. He stood up instinctively, feeling dwarfed by the professor''s presence. As a seasoned Quidditch yer known for his rough style, Flint was ustomed to a different kind of pressure. But facing a professor who was also an investigator was an entirely new experience for him.

    Bryan nodded approvingly, acknowledging Flint''s response. "You should strive hard, Flint. I hope the Slytherin team achieves great sess under your leadership." His words carried a sense of encouragement, but When Bryan said this, the faces of the Gryffindors who were curious about him immediately turned cold, and some diehard Quidditch fans even showed hatred in their eyes.

    After Oliver and Percy, who were sitting in the crowd, looked at each other, they both lowered their heads, pretending to be reading "Walking with Trolls" spread out on the table.

    Bryan''s encouragement made the little wizards of Slytherin proud. They subconsciously thought that Professor Watson and Professor Snape were simr in style, and they took care of their own people very much. Marcus, who was the first to be named, was even a little carried away. After ncing haughtily at Oliver, who bowed his head, he smiled slyly and said loudly, "Thank you for your support, Professor Watson. We, all of us in Slytherin, are very excited about you being a teaching assistant, professor. We think you will be the best professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts in recent years. So, what are you going to teach us?"

    Oliver Wood almost buried his head under the table and secretly made a disgusted face. Even Percy, a model student, didn''t look all that happy.

    "Hehe, thank you also for your support, Flint," Bryan did not pursue Marcus Flint''s little scheme. He nodded and smiled, "As you said, Flint, I''m just a teaching assistant, and Professor Lockhart is still in charge of your teaching n."

    At this moment, Lockhart strode in with the wind, and today he was wearing a dark plum-colored robe. Bryan noticed that in the many times he had met Professor Lockhart, it seemed that he had never seen him wearing a robe of the same type.

    "Writing books really makes you that much money?" Bryan had this thought in his mind when he walked up to greet him.

    "It seems that you have already introduced yourself, right, Professor Watson?" Lockhart smiled brightly and patted Bryan''s shoulder heavily, as if he was speaking to a junior he valued.

    "Just a simple greeting, Professor Lockhart¡ª" Bryan moved his shoulders away calmly and said with a friendly smile, "Like the little wizards, I am looking forward to your wonderful lecture!"

    "Oh, crap, looks like it''s the same bunch!" someone whispered this sentence within the group of Gryffindor students.

    Bryan''s expression twitched, and he was sure that Lockhart had also heard this sentence because for a moment, Lockhart''s expression froze, but he immediately returned to normal.

    "So..." Bryan, who had no idea what was going to happen next, was a little confused, so he stared at the suddenly lifeless ssroom. "Where should we start, Professor Lockhart?"

    "Oh, don''t worry, Watson, the little ones are already familiar!" In the next two hours, Bryan finally saw Lockhart''s unique teaching method. He called the names of the students one by one and asked them to recite long sections of the storybooks he wrote, with the little wizards asked to be full of emotion.

    Lockhart stood at the podium, pretending not to see the painful expressions on the faces of the little wizards, looking happy. Of course, if the recitation was not emotional enough, Lockhart would personally demonstrate. He also made some exaggerated and funny body movements in an attempt to improve the ssroom atmosphere, but in the end, no one paid attention to him.

    The only thing Bryan could do was to help Lockhart maintain ssroom discipline.

    "Have you always... taught them this way?" Taking advantage of Lockhart''s panting time after reading a long description of the process of subduing the troll, Bryan casually swayed to his side and said with a tactful tone.

    "Aha, eager to express yourself, aren''t you!" Lockhart pointed his finger at his nose. His eyes were very ''tactful''. He ignored Bryan''s exnation and directly stopped the use of dull, lifeless Percy reading the textbook in a low voice. "The opportunity to be famous is here, Watson. It''s up to you if you can seize it!"

    He forced the textbook into Bryan''s hand and shouted to everyone with a radiant face, "Let me show you how a true fan expresses profound admiration for Professor Lockhart with his passionate voice!"

    *Snickers*¡ª¡ª Looking at the bewildered Mr. Investigator beside Lockhart on the podium, Wood burst outughing.

    /FicFrenzy

 041 Plotting Against Lockhart

    041 Plotting Against Lockhart

    When Bryan witnessed a jubnt group of young wizards exiting Lockhart''s ssroom, he found himself engulfed in a whirlwind of confusion, existential doubts, and bewilderment. However, he finally understood one thing: why neither Headmaster Dumbledore nor Professor McGonagall could tolerate Lockhart''s teaching methods.

    As Bryan made his way back to his office, still reeling from being forced to endure half a book''s worth of absurdity, he considered the possibility that this might be an isted case. However, the following days shattered that hope, exposing the harsh reality of Lockhart''s ridiculous teaching methods. He couldn''t help but wonder, "Why would Dumbledore choose such an entric person?"

    On Thursday morning, Bryan left the first-year ssroom and headed towards the auditorium for lunch, filled with sympathy for the young wizards. Reflecting on his own time as a student at Hogwarts, he recalled how the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors changed each year, their abilities varying. However, those professors had always taught with sincerity, unlike Lockhart, who transformed the ss into a theatrical performance.

    Yesterday afternoon, during Harry''s first encounter with Lockhart as their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Bryan had initially hoped that Lockhart would exhibit some restraint in front of the "protagonist" of this world. However, his hopes were shattered as he was forced to participate in a two-hour y where he portrayed a grateful viger from the Himyas, while Lockhart coerced Potter into ying the role of a snowman, all while Lockhart potrayed himself taking the center stage.

    "Do something, Professor Watson!"

    As the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss finally concluded, a distressed Harry, thrown around by Lockhart''s antics and identally falling off the table, clutched his leg in pain, uttering desperate words of pleading. Ron covered his mouth, desperately trying to hold back hisughter. However, he soon bared his teeth and screamed when Hermione passed by, carrying several Lockhart books, and stomped on his foot.

    "I thought your performance was brilliant, Professor Watson!"

    Hermione red fiercely at Ron, then blushed and said something to Bryan before quickly running away.

    A great performance? Is that what it was, Miss Granger?

    Bryan looked at the little girl running away in surprise, his face filled with confusion.

    "Her opinion is different from ours, Professor Watson," Dean Thomas said to Bryan rationally. "Hermione greatly admires Professor Lockhart. She has been trying to convince everyone that the absurd adventures described in Lockhart''s books are true. However, she has been unable to provide evidence. But now, she has finally found a fan of Professor Lockhart¡ªa significant figure."

    Raising an eyebrow, Bryan inquired, "Who might that be?"

    "It''s you, Professor Watson" . Harry observed Bryan''s expression discreetly and cautiously said, "Hermione told me that she overheard Lockhart calling you his loyal fan¡ª"

    Bryan rolled his eyes inwardly and carefully considered the suggestion Professor Snape had made to him recently.

    During lunchtime, while Lockhart was engrossed in a tedious conversation with Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall turned her head and fixed a stern gaze upon Bryan, speaking in a barely audible voice, "Professor Watson, Hogwarts pays your sry not to recite and perform with him but to show your true abilities. You promised me!"

    Setting aside the lemon tart in his hand, Bryan surveyed the bustling Great Hall. He noticed Draco Malfoy, looking at him with a puzzled expression from the Slytherin table, while several Ravenw girls pointed among each other,ughed, and shook their heads.

    "Headmaster Dumbledore..."

    Dumbledore''s beard seemed to possess a life of its own, trembling with a mind of its own ord.

    "Do you have any advice, Bryan?"

    Bryan blinked, adopting a calm tone as he responded, "No, Headmaster Dumbledore. I simply have a suggestion."

    Curiosity piqued, Dumbledore shook his beard and refocused on the conversation. "What might that be?"

    Bryan lowered his head slightly and replied, "Would you mind if I invited Professor Lockhart for a drink and identally added something to his ss, causing him to spend some time in the hospital bed?"

    Snape, who had been staring at Bryan intently until that moment, finally broke his gaze and a faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth. A flicker of expression appeared in his otherwise vacant eyes. "--Do you remember what I taught you in your first-year Potions ss, Bryan?"

    "Adding narcissus root powder to a wormwood infusion creates a potent sleeping draught. When consumed with alcohol and left untreated, it induces a state of confusion that impairs speech. The effects canst for two months."

    Bryan nonchntly nodded at Snape and replied, "You know, Professor Snape, my memory has always been quite good. And what about you, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    Dumbledore cleared his throat, raising his head and suddenly appearing alert. He began studying the patterns on the chandelier above the auditorium, his blue eyes less piercing and distant. "This year, I turned 112, and the passage of time never ceases to astonish me. Lately, I''ve been keenly aware of its effects. My legs and feet aren''t as agile as they used to be, my vision is starting to blur, and my hearing isn''t as sharp. I must admit that I didn''t catch a single word of what you three were discussing with Severus and Minerva just now..."

    Professor McGonagall pursed her lips tightly, shooting a mixture of helplessness and annoyance filled gaze towards Dumbledore.

    However, Dumbledore didn''t give McGonagall an opportunity to voice herints. He stood up directly, addressing the group of professors who had been conspiring to harm a renowned writer and Hogwarts'' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Due to his declining health, he needed to return to his office and rest, immediately leaving the gathering.

    "I will deliver what you need to your office before 9 p.m. tonight," Snape offered as he, too, stood up, his departing figure expressing impatience.

    "Poppy!"

    Under Bryan''s meaningful gaze, Professor McGonagall, feeling somewhat ashamed and irritated, turned to Madam Pomfrey, who was preparing fish soup. "If you''re free tonight, could youe to my office? There''s something I''d like to discuss with you privately..."

    "Oh, no problem, Minerva. I''ll be there on time!" Madam Pomfrey, anticipating a possible raise in her sry, beamed with joy and eagerly agreed.

    "Ahem, Professor Lockhart..."

    After Professor McGonagall''s departure, the staff table, once crowded, now appeared almost half-empty. Flitwick swiftly departed while Bryan remained engaged in conversation with Lockhart, exhibiting movements that vaguely hinted at his past glory as a dueling champion.

    "Ah, Bryan, you also want to receive my Valentine''s Day card in advance, just like Filius. Oh, this truly puts me in a dilemma. But..."

    Interrupting Lockhart''s rambling, Bryan stated firmly, "I learned from Miss Granger that your favorite birthday present was a case of Ogden''s Old Firewhiskey when I taught your ss in the second year. How fortunate for me to possess a bottle over 80 years old, a gift from Headmaster Dumbledore. I wonder if you would be honored to join me for a drink at the Three Broomsticks this Saturday?"

    "Now, do the two of you have anything else to say?"

    At the Gryffindor table, Hermione, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, nced at Harry and Ron, who exchanged looks, before lifting her chin with pride.

    "He''s one of his fans!"

    /FicFrenzy

 042 Lockhartâ€™s condition

    042 Lockhart¡¯s condition

    The first weekend in February arrived with a delightful surprise¡ªa clear and sunny day enveloped the school grounds near the ck Lake and Forbidden Forest. The warmth of the sun cast a golden glow on thendscape, coaxing senior boys and girls out of their usual routines. Ignoring the whispers of younger wizards and the disapproving nces from professors, the young couples gathered together, their faces filled with blissful smiles.

    Huddled close to one another, they shared intimate moments, affectionately touching noses and whispering sweet nothings into each other''s ears. Their presence created an air of enchantment around the school grounds, where the anticipation of Valentine''s Day hung in the air. They seemed oblivious to the rules and regtions, their hearts consumed by the exhrating joy of young love.

    "This is outrageous! Why aren''t the prefects and professors doing anything about it?" Hermione thought indignantly. She had gotten up early to go to the library and noticed at least five or six couples on her way there.

    The library, usually bustling with studious activity, wore a different ambiance that day. The stern figure of Madam Pince sat at her usual spot, her eyes fixed on a book with a gilded cover. Scattered among the narrow aisles and countless bookshelves were only a handful of upper-year students, engrossed in their preparations for the uing O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s exams.

    Undeterred by theck ofpanionship, Hermione skillfully navigated through thebyrinthine rows of bookshelves, her determined eyes scanning the titles. The library held a vast repository of knowledge, and Hermione sought to unearth the mystery of chamber of secrets. Finally, her searching fingers found what she sought¡ªa weathered copy of "Forgotten Ancient Magic and Curses." With excitement bubbling within her, she leaned against the shelf, cradling the book in her hands.

    Since Fred and George had taken off without saying a word, Wood had no choice but to reluctantly announce the cancetion of that day''s training session. This rare cancetion meant that Harry could enjoy a leisurely weekend for once. He had originally nned to apany Hermione in searching for clues, but before they left, Ron grabbed him and said, "Wood gave you a break! Don''t waste your precious weekend on something futile, Harry. Seamus got a new set of Gobstones; I can borrow them, and we can pass the time!"

    Easily persuaded, Harry decided to join Ron, and in the end, it was only Hermione who went to the library alone, hoping to find a trace of the attack within the vast ocean of books of knowledge and history.

    Sunlight streamed through the dusty air, casting ethereal beams of light that danced among the bookshelves. The motes of dust, suspended in mid-air, appeared like tiny fairies, adding a touch of magic to the scene. Hermione, her young face a portrait of earnest determination, began immersing herself in the intricate and dense text of the ancient tome, hoping to discover any clues that could shed light on the petrification of Colin and Justin.

    As Hermione engrossed herself in her studies, her surroundings faded into the background, and time seemed to lose its meaning. The towering pile of books around her grew steadily, threatening to surpass her own slender shoulders. Yet, Hermione remained unfazed, her passion for finding the perpetrator of the Chamber of Secrets fueling her perseverance.

    Bryan Watson, who hade from the Restricted Section, silently watched for a while. Somehow, ripples stirred in his heart as if he saw his younger self in Hermione.

    "Miss Granger¡ª"

    "Ah, Professor Watson!" Hermione turned her head in surprise, momentarily distracted from her book. When she saw Professor Watson strolling towards her with a smile, she quickly closed the book she was holding and stood up a bit flustered. "Apologies, Professor, I didn''t notice you here!"

    Apart from their awkward encounter during the Christmas holidays in the hospital wing, this was Hermione''s first time meeting Professor Watson in an unofficial setting.

    Bryan Watson nced at the books Hermione was hugging and felt a sense of understanding. He nodded at Hermione and gently asked, "Are you searching for clues about the Chamber of Secrets?"

    Upon receiving Hermione''s affirmative reply, Bryan Watson looked around in surprise.

    "You''re the only one here, Miss Granger. What about your good friends, Potter and Weasley? Aren''t they here to help you?"

    "Oh, them!"

    The young witch, with her disheveled hair, immediately became indignant. She was about to vent her frustrations about Harry and Ron, but as the words reached her lips, she changed her mind and simply said that Harry had to attend Quidditch practice and Ron was in themon room working on his Herbology homework. She was the only one who had finished her assignments early and had nothing else to do, so she came to the library.

    Bryan Watson could tell that it was a lie even without Legilimency. However, he didn''t expose her and simply nodded with understanding.

    "Strong individuals are always lonely, Miss Granger. Keep up the good work."

    After leaving her with this cryptic statement, Bryan Watson departed.

    Hermione remained standing in the same spot, staring at Professor Watson''s retreating figure for a long time. She kept reying the inexplicable words in her mind. Somehow, she felt as though she had received powerful encouragement. Her arms, which had been carrying books all morning, no longer felt sore, and her amber-brown eyes regained their brightness.

    "Keep going, Hermione!" she clenched her fist and said to herself, then she enthusiastically returned to the bookshelves.

    Bryan Watson walked along the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. Perhaps due to his change in appearance, many young wizards approached him and greeted him, and Bryan Watson responded with friendly nods.

    However, his attention soon shifted as he furrowed his brow, noticing two figures in ck cloaks ahead of him. Deciding to investigate further, he altered his course, trailing them into a secluded alleyway.

    Careful to remain unnoticed, Bryan Watson observed the figures until they reached the entrance of the Hog''s Head Inn. He chose not to enter with them, instead positioning himself just outside, wearing a yful expression, patiently waiting.

    True to his instincts, after a few minutes, the loud roar of the hot-tempered bar owner reverberated from inside the pub. The two figures stumbled out, their faces filled with apprehension. However, before they could exchange any words, they nced up and saw Bryan Watson, his gaze cold and piercing, fixed upon them from a short distance away

    Uh¡ª Awkwardness, fear, and helplessness gripped the hearts of the two figures in ck robes as they nervously stood at the entrance of the Hog''s Head Inn, awaiting their fate. Their minds raced, desperately trying toe up with a usible exnation for their presence.

    "That''s not right, Brother. He can''t clearly see our faces!" The person on the right suddenly snapped out of it. He lowered his voice and quietly tugged at hispanion''s sleeve. The remindedpanion immediately caught on, and then, from beneath the hood of the left figure, a hoarse voice coughed heavily. "Cough, cough, mind your own business, kid. We''re cold-blooded killers, you know!"

    Damn it! Bryan Watson stared at the two scoundrels from the Weasley family running away with a face full of ck lines, determined to find an opportunity to give them a taste of their own medicine! He turned around and hadn''t walked far when he saw something inside a tea shop filled with mist, where everything seemed decorated with ruffles and bows. Percy Weasley was passionately kissing his Ravenw girlfriend beneath a golden cherub.

    "This family is full of top-notch wizards!" Bryan Watson pretended not to see the scene, turned around, and walked quickly towards the Three Broomsticks pub.

    In the evening, Hermione told Harry and Ron about the conversation she had with Professor Watson in the library earlier. Unfortunately, Harry and Ron couldn''t figure out the meaning of the professor''s words.

    "But¡ª" Ron wrinkled his nose and absentmindedly waved his arm in the air. "It sounds pretty cool, doesn''t it? Imagine this, not me, no, I mean you, Harry. In the Quidditch final, Gryffindor is trailing Slytherin 0-140, and everyone has given up hope. But just before Robert Pattinson scores a fatal goal, you catch the Snitch right in front of Malfoy. I bet Malfoy won''t be able to eat for a year out of sheer anger!"

    "If it were true, Ron, I would dly help Malfoy eat a year''s worth of food in a day!" Harry imagined the scene Ron described in his mind and burst intoughter.

    Hermione rolled her eyes at her friends'' yful banter, ready to lecture them for theirck of focus. However, before she could voice her thoughts, a suddenmotion erupted in the entrance hall. Harry and Ron''s cheerful mood instantly shifted, and Hermione sensed that something serious had urred. Dropping her food, she swiftly made her way towards the source of the disturbance, eager to find out what had happened.

    Down the marble staircase, Headmaster Dumbledore and several professors rushed with grave expressions etched upon their faces. In no time, they dispersed the crowd, leading Bryan Watson, who was riding a broomstick, up the stairs.

    Harry''s heart sank, his thoughts immediately turning to the worst-case scenario¡ªhad the heir of Slytherin resumed their activities? An unspoken understanding passed between Harry and Ron as they exchanged pale nces. They hurriedly followed Dumbledore, their footsteps echoing on the ascending staircase, their minds filled with apprehension.

    Inside the hospital wing, the sight that greeted them was far from what they expected. Professor Lockharty on a bed, his usually charming demeanor reced by disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, and desperate grunting sounds. Madam Pomfrey examined him with deep concern etched on her face, her every movement meticulous.

    Dumbledore allowed the students to visit Professor Lockhart, and a sense of unease filled the air as they gathered outside the curtains, exchanging anxious nces. Hermione managed to squeeze her way to the front, her eyes welling up with tears at the sight of Lockhart''s pitiful state. She couldn''t help but cover her mouth, stifling her sobs aspassion overwhelmed her.

    Bryan Watson, who witnessed this scene, felt a sense of guilt. He reflected on whether he had taken his yful act too far. However, when he saw Severus Snape standing in the shadows, seemingly struggling to hold back augh, his mood calmed down.

    Dumbledore approached Lockhart''s bed, concealing his emotions from everyone. "How is the situation, Poppy?" he asked Madam Pomfrey, his voice filled with concern.

    "It''s very bad, Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey replied, her tone grave. She quickly nced at Professor McGonagall, who had a stern expression, and exined to everyone, "It''s a severe case of alcohol allergy, Headmaster. He''ll probably be spending Easter in the hospital bed. Oh, didn''t anyone know that Professor Lockhart can''t handle alcoholic beverages?"

    Hermione''s eyes widened in confusion. Wasn''t a box of Ogden''s Old Fire-whiskey the birthday present Lockhart wanted the most? With tears streaming down her face, she raised her head and murmured with a trembling voice.

    "It''s all my fault, Headmaster!"

    Bryan Watson stepped forward with a sorrowful expression. "I didn''t rify the situation before insisting that Professor Lockhart have a drink. Oh, he probably didn''t want to offend me, so he reluctantly agreed. I... I feel truly ashamed. If you allow, I can resign immediately as a form of self-punishment!"

    "No, that''s not necessary," Dumbledore interjected, his voice gentle yet firm.

    Before Professor McGonagall could even take a step to express her opinion, much to everyone''s surprise, Professor Lockhart, barely clinging to life, summoned the strength to speak. He strained and swayed, extending his hand toward Bryan, murmuring in a barely audible voice, "Br...i... a message?"

    "What did you say, Professor Lockhart? Is there something else you wish to convey?" Bryan immediately moved aside Dumbledore, crouching by the bedside and grasping Lockhart''s hand. His other hand, concealed within his sleeve, prepared to cast a curative spell at a moment''s notice.

    "Hehehe... Hermione!" Lockhart unexpectedly called out Hermione''s name once again. Bryan''s eyebrows twitched, but ultimately, heplied with Lockhart''s st wish" and summoned Hermione to the bedside.

    "I''m here, Professor. What do you wish to tell me?" Hermione''s voice trembled as tears cascaded down her face.

    "You... both... fans..." Lockhart, hisplexion ashen,boriously uttered each word. "Help me... write a response!"

    AN: Gobstone''s are wizarding chess like games.

 043 Professor Watsonâ€™s First Lesson

    043 Professor Watson¡¯s First Lesson

    On a dreary Monday morning, as Charms and Herbology ssesmenced, hardly anyone seemed to be paying attention. Instead, the halls were abuzz with whispered conversations about the mysterious events that had taken ce on Saturday. The students exchanged hushed spections, their curiosity piqued by the unsettling incident involving Professor Lockhart. Even Hermione, renowned for her unwavering focus in ss, appeared visibly unwell andcking her usual energy.

    The questions surrounding Professor Lockhart''s condition lingered, casting a shadow of uncertainty over the lunchtime discussions. No one seemed to have a definitive answer as to whether the professor had an alcohol allergy or if foul y was involved. Theck of concrete information only served to intensify the intrigue and fuel further gossip among the Hogwartsmunity.

    It was during this state of suspense that the Heads of Houses descended from the professor''s podium, their expressions grave and their movements hurried. They made their way through the murmuring crowd, ensuring that every student caught wind of the shocking news. The second ss of the afternoon would be none other than Defense Against the Dark Arts, and it would be held in the Great Hall,bining the first and second-year students from all four houses. The heads of the houses, eager to ry this unexpected change, dispersed among the younger students, their voices a whisper amidst the rising anticipation.

    Ron, caught off guard by the sudden shift in schedule, looked at Percy with surprise etched on his face. He turned to Seamus, sharing his astonishment and was voicing his suspicion that someone must have poisoned Lockhart. "Wait a minute," Ron said, his brow furrowed. "If I remember correctly, the second ss this afternoon was supposed to be History of Magic!"

    Percy, ever the dutiful student, responded with a tone of certainty. "ording to Professor McGonagall," he said, "if you have any questions, you can go and ask her yourself." With that, Percy quickly made his way past Harry and the others, his eagerness to ry the news evident as he sought out Ginny and the rest of their group, who were congregated near the entrance hall.

    In the afternoon, after their Transfiguration ss, Harry and his friends rushed to the Great Hall. Despite their exhaustion, their curiosity had been ignited, and they couldn''t help but be intrigued by what awaited them. As they entered the hall, a sense of wonder washed over them, for it had been transformed into an entirely different space. In the center stood a circr tform, encircled by a vast expanse of desks numbering nearly one hundred and sixty to seventy. The first and second-year students from the other three houses had already gathered, their conversations filled with excitement and spection about this innovative approach to ss and specting about what Professor Watson would teach them next.

    "This reminds me of bad memories," Harry muttered to himself. "I just hope this isn''t arge-scale stage y!" Nevertheless, curiosity got the better of him and his friends, and they took their ces at the desks, exhausted yet eager for what was toe.

    The passing minutes saw the desks gradually fill with students from all four houses, the room buzzing with anticipation. Finally, as thest empty desk was imed by a young wizard. As Bryan made his grand entrance. The crowd erupted with a cacophony of excitement as he gracefully descended from the marble staircase, agilely leaping over the students andnding on the central tform. Standing amidst the sea of expectant faces, he offered a warm and enigmatic smile. His first sentence ignited an intense roar of excitement, shattering the silent hall.

    "Now, everyone, put back Professor Lockhart''s book from your desks. You won''t need it in my ss."

    "Oh, yeah!"

    The promation triggered an outpouring of joy and relief, with Hufflepuff''s McLaggen being the first to cheer. His exmation served as the catalyst, and soon the Great Hall reverberated with cheers and howls of enthusiasm from all sides. The resounding energy was so powerful that even therge chandeliers overhead seemed to tremble under the weight of the young wizards'' exuberance.

    "Can you believe it? I''ve been waiting for this for over half a year!" Dean eximed, throwing his book ''Break with the Banshee'' into his bag andughing happily. Ron seemed to want to express simr sentiments, but Harry, with his mouth half open, stopped him and discreetly pointed at Hermione, who sat between them, looking bewildered. They exchanged a quick nce and suppressed their excitement as they put away their books.

    The continuous cheerssted for several minutes, gradually subsiding after Bryan Watson let out a heavy cough, drawing the attention back to him. The hall fell into a hushed silence as the young wizards eagerly awaited his next words.

    "Now, I believe it''s time for an exnation," Bryan began, his voice resonating with authority and warmth. He nodded to the audience below, acknowledging their curiosity. "I suppose you must all be wondering why I chose this method of teaching you."

    Bryan cleared his throat, capturing their attention as he continued, "The Defense Against the Dark Arts ss has suffered from unstable staffing for various reasons. Due to frequent changes of professors, the teaching quality of this subject at Hogwarts has been consistently criticized. Even in my case, I''m afraid my tenure as your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor won''t be too long. Therefore, in order to improve your practical defense skills within our limited time, I had to make some changes."

    "Professor Watson!"

    As soon as he finished speaking, Seamus raised his hand enthusiastically. He looked at Bryan Watson on the tform and said loudly, "Give us a self-introduction, Professor. Of course, we all know you were sent by the School Board to investigate the Chamber of Secrets, but before that, what were you doing?"

    The question hung in the air, and Bryan Watson scratched his head, observing the dozens of curious eyes fixed upon him. After a moment of contemtion, he raised an eyebrow and began to respond.

    "That''s an interesting question, Mr. Finnigan," Bryan Watson scratched his head, looking at the dozens of curious eyes below. After thinking for a moment, he raised an eyebrow and said, " Well, I can tell you this much. Beforeing to Hogwarts, I was what you might call a... frence worker. I made a living by running errands for people, finding magical ingredients, and delivering goods. Ha, I was just an insignificant nobody, nothingpared to the famous Professor Lockhart!"

    Ron leaned toward Harry, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I can''t say I entirely believe that," he whispered, and Harry nodded in agreement, a hint of skepticism lingering in his gaze.

    However, Bryan Watson''sckluster self-introduction didn''t satisfy the young wizards. The air in the hall grew slightly colder, and a palpable tension settled among the students. They were still waiting to hear what Professor Watson had to say next.

    "I understand that you must be curious about what I''m going to teach you," Bryan finally acknowledged, his smile captivating the audience below. "But let me turn the tables on you. What do you hope to learn from me?"

    The question hung in the air, perplexing the young wizards as they exchanged uncertain nces. However, one student, ise Zabini, a second-year Slytherin, wasted no time in raising his hand and voicing his desire.

    "I hope to learn powerful spells, Professor Watson," ise dered confidently. "Because I believe that only powerful spells can resist dangerous and intriguing dark magic."

    The young wizard''s words struck a chord with his peers, resonating with their shared yearning for strength and protection. Even the Gryffindor students, known for their dislike for Slytherin, found themselves hesitating, nodding in agreement with ise''s sentiment.

    Professor Watson nodded approvingly, acknowledging ise''s response. His eyes scanned the circle of young wizards, his voice lowering in intensity as he prepared to impart his wisdom.

    "Since you''re all interested in powerful spells, let''s explore that avenue," Professor Watson suggested. "Now, who can tell me which category of spells can be considered immensely powerful?"

    The young wizards exchanged nces once again, uncertain of how to respond to this intriguing question. Many eyes turned expectantly towards Hermione, knowing her penchant for knowledge and academic prowess. As expected, Hermione rose from her seat, her hand raised high.

    "If I understood your question correctly," Hermione began, her voice confident, "the category of spells that can be considered immensely powerful would be ancient magic, most of which have been lost in the present day."

    Bryan''s interest piqued as he fixed his gaze upon Hermione. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "Can you exin why, Miss Granger?" He asked with great interest, staring at Hermione.

    "Ancient magic¡ªknown for its immense power¡ªrefers to the spells invented and created by previous wizards during the tribal era up until about eight hundred years ago. In those times, people relied on a harsh natural environment, and many now-extinct dangerous magical creatures were still active during that period. To defend against threats from the cruel natural environment, the highly intelligent ancient wizards developed a series of spells primarily focused on seeking power."

    Hermione''s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she delved deeper into her exnation. "However, with the development and growth of both Muggle and wizarding civilizations, humans tamed nature, and the role of magic gradually shifted from defense against danger to serving everyday life. Simultaneously, the rapid advancement of wand-lore and its strongpatibility with modern magic made casting spells simpler, which led to the rapid abandonment and eventual loss of ancient magic, which was immensely powerful butplex, obscure, and required a high level of magical ability."

    Professor Watson''s apuse echoed through the Great Hall, filling the space with a sense of admiration and appreciation. "Fantastic, Miss Granger!" he eximed. "I don''t think anyone would object if I award Gryffindor ten points for that insightful exnation."

    Blushing with pride, Hermione returned to her seat, a contented smile ying on her lips. Ron, unable to contain his excitement, leaned towards Harry and whispered, "Did you see that? Hermione really knows her stuff!"

    Harry nodded, equally impressed by their friend''s vast knowledge.

    Ron stared at Professor Watson with hopeful eyes. "Professor Watson," Ron spoke up, "are you saying that you will teach us those mysterious ancient magics?"

    AUTHOR''S NOTE : The Exnation about ancient magic mentioned in the chapter are outside the canon and the wizarding world, They are only theories.

    I may introduce some OC background characters like McLaggen; Henry and grace in the earlier chapters. They won''t have much affect on the story.

    /FicFrenzy

 044 Professor Watsonâ€™s First Lesson (Part 2)

    044 Professor Watson¡¯s First Lesson (Part 2)

    In the face of Ron Weasley''s eager gaze, Bryan smiled warmly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He didn''t directly answer Ron''s question but instead redirected the topic back to the course at hand, capturing the attention of the young wizards.

    "The Defense Against the Dark Arts course, I prefer to call it Danger Defense," Bryan began, his voice resonating through the lecture hall. "It is aprehensive course where everything you learn in this school, from spells, transfiguration, herbology, potions, to magical creature protection, can be applied. In order to skillfully handle any iing danger, you must possess three qualities: skill, method, and courage!"

    The young wizards listened intently, drawn in by Bryan''s charisma and the importance of the subject matter. Even those who weren''t particrly fond of studying found themselves paying full attention to Professor Watson''s lecture. The prospect of attending a proper Dark Magic Defense ss at Hogwarts was considered a rare urrence, and this opportunity was not lost on the students.

    Meanwhile, Hermione Granger diligently wrote down every word Professor Watson said in her notebook, her hand moving quickly across the pages to capture every bit of knowledge imparted.

    Bryan''s gaze shifted back to Ron, his smile widening. "I won''t be teaching you any powerful ancient magic or charms, Mr. Weasley¡ª" Ron''s hopeful expression faltered, disappointment evident in his eyes. But before Ron could say anything, Bryan addressed the entire ss.

    "As for the reason, first of all, I am not the professor of the Charms ss. Teaching charms is Professor Flitwick''s job, not mine," Bryan exined, his voice clear and calm. "Secondly, there was a time when I was indeed obsessed with the power of ancient magic. But as my research deepened, I found that the majority of ancient magic haspletely vanished in the river of time. Even if I were to exhaust all my life''s efforts, it would be impossible to find aplete system of offensive and defensive ancient magic. Therefore, I am not particrly proficient in ''authentic'' ancient magic."

    Bryan''s words hung in the air, and the young wizards listened intently, absorbing the knowledge he imparted. Some looked puzzled, unable to fully grasp the significance of his exnation.

    Observing their confusion, Bryan pondered for a moment, his mind racing to find a solution. He decided to put on a demonstration, believing that seeing was better than hearing. He took out his wand, the polished wood glinting in the light, instantly capturing the attention of the young wizards who loved this part the most.

    A buzz of excitement filled the auditorium as the young wizards eagerly awaited the demonstration. This was their favorite part of any magical ss, a chance to witness the power and finesse of experienced wizards.

    "Well," Bryan''s gaze wandered across the room, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me do a demonstration. Who can tell me the spell you are most skilled at?"

    The auditorium erupted into chaos, resembling thousands of buzzing bees. The young wizards engaged in spirited discussions, their voices blending into a symphony of excitement.

    "The Leg-Locking Curse, Professor Watson, I''m good at that!" Gryffindor''s Lavender Brown eagerly raised her hand, her enthusiasm evident.

    "The Bat-Bogey Hex!" Ginny eximed, her voice soft yet hopeful. However, her words were drowned out by the noisy crowd, and Bryan didn''t hear her at all.

    "Professor Watson, let me go," Draco Malfoy sneered, his gaze fixed on Harry. He stood up, his voice loud andmanding. "The Tarantallegra!"

    Crabbe and Goyle burst intoughter, their eyes gleaming with delight, while Harry''spetitive spirit ignited, refusing to be outdone by his rival.

    The young wizards continued to speak up, each mentioning a different spell they considered their specialty. Spells such as the Tooth-Ache Jinx, the Baldness Curse, and the Tongue-Tying Curse filled the air, leaving Bryan increasingly perplexed. These spells touched upon his knowledge blind spots, unfamiliar and peculiar to him.

    Growing increasingly puzzled, Bryan raised his hand to his forehead, a ck line forming. He decided to interrupt the chaotic chatter,manding attention with his authoritative presence. "Wait!"

    His voice echoed through the auditorium, causing the young wizards to pause and look at him with curiosity and anticipation. Bryan cleared his throat, his tone slightly exasperated yet filled with a hint of amusement. "Ahem, can''t anyone say a spell that''s a bit more... normal?"

    The young wizards exchanged nces, realizing the peculiarity of their choices. They quieted down, their voices hushed. Finally, Ron Weasley, trembling slightly, raised his hand. "Um, the Levitation Charm, Professor Watson, I''m fairly proficient at that!"

    Bryan''s relief was palpable as he smiled, his eyes conveying encouragement. He walked up to Ron, standing beside him, and nodded approvingly. "Very good, Mr. Weasley! Let everyone see your Levitation Charm."

    Ron''s face turned slightly red, a mixture of nervousness and excitement evident on his features. His voice stuttered as he mumbled something in response. Harry and Hermione understood Ron''s concern, their supportive voices joining together in a flurry of reassurance.

    Bryan listened attentively, his gaze focused on Ron. He understood Ron''s doubts and wanted to help him ovee them. "Is your wand broken?" Bryan raised an eyebrow, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. "Can you show it to me?"

    With a hopeful expression, Ron took out his wand, which was haphazardly taped together with magical tape to prevent it from snapping into two pieces. The sight of the damaged wand caused Malfoy to burst into loudughter, taunting Ron with his ridicule. "Let''s pick someone else, Professor Watson. Weasley''s wand might kill everyone here!"

    Theughter of the Slytherins echoed through the room, casting a shadow of embarrassment over Ron. His face, flushed with embarrassment, turned as red as if scalded by boiling water.

    Bryan''s eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting towards the Slytherins. His tone remained calm, but a stern undertoneced his words. "I fail to see what''s so funny, Mr. Malfoy. Mocking others doesn''t showcase your sense of humor."

    As Bryan turned his head and looked at the Slytherins, his unwavering gaze bathed them in a figurative bucket of cold water in the middle of winter. They fell into silence, unable to utter another word, their smirks wiped off their faces. Even Draco Malfoy, known for his arrogance, was silenced, unable to meet Bryan''s gaze.

    Returning his attention to Ron, Bryan extended his hand, gesturing for the wand. "Can you fix it, Professor Watson?" Ron asked hopefully, looking at Bryan with a glimmer of expectation in his eyes.

    Bryan didn''t reply immediately. Squatting down, he carefully ced Ron''s wand on the ground, his eyes flickering with a faint light. He focused his magical energy, channeling it into the damaged wand.

    "Reparo!"

    The broken wand on the ground immediately shook rapidly, its fractured pieces floating and swirling in the air. A burst of shiny red sparks erupted from the broken end, the fragments aligning perfectly as they were firmly stuck back together. The wand was restored to its original state, appearing as if it had never been damaged.

    "You fixed it, Professor Watson!" Ron''s eyes lit up with joy, his voice filled with gratitude. "I asked many people, and they all told me that this wand waspletely useless!"

    "Their assessment is not entirely wrong, Mr. Weasley," Bryan responded, his smile warm and understanding. He carefully examined Ron''s wand, running his fingers along its surface. After a brief moment of inspection, he looked up, his eyes meeting Ron''s. "A wand is a very delicate alchemical tool. Although I forcefully restored it to its original state with magic, the internal damage remains unresolved. You can use it for now, but you should know that it won''tst long. So I still rmend that you get a new one from Ollivander''s during the summer break¡ª"

    Before Bryan could finish his sentence, Ron''s delighted expression overshadowed any concerns. His gratitude and happiness were evident on his face, grateful for Bryan''s help in salvaging his beloved wand.

    Encouraged by the positive atmosphere, Bryan redirected the focus back to the demonstration. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he eximed, urging Ron to showcase his skills. The room held its breath, eagerly awaiting Ron''s performance.

    With newfound confidence, Ron took a deep breath and focused his concentration. He carefully waved his repaired wand, enunciating the incantation with precision. The feather on the desk in front of him slowly lifted into the air, floating delicately.

    "Very good, Mr. Weasley," Bryan apuded, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "A sessful Levitation Charm."

    The young wizards pped and cheered, their enthusiasm infectious. Ron beamed with pride, his earlier nervousness reced with a sense of aplishment.

    "Now, try injecting more magical power," Bryan encouraged, his voice resonating with a gentle yet motivating tone.

    Eager to impress, Ron nodded, determined to push his abilities further. He closed his eyes momentarily, channeling his magical energy. With a surge of power, he directed it towards the feather, attempting to amplify the Levitation Charm.

    Boom!

    The room was engulfed in a sudden explosion, startling everyone present. The feather disintegrated into a flurry of floating debris, the remnants swirling in the air before gently descending onto Ron''s confused face.

    There was a collective gasp of surprise, and a momentary silence followed. Ron''s expression turned sheepish, a mixture of disappointment and embarrassment evident on his features.

    However, Bryan remained unfazed by the mishap. He stepped forward, his gaze reassuring. "Very well, Mr. Weasley. You have earned two points for Gryffindor."

    Ron''s eyes widened, a spark of excitement rekindling within him. The disappointment melted away, reced by a renewed sense of determination.

    "Now, let me show you mine," Bryan dered, his voice resonating with a hint of excitement. He gestured for Ron to step down, allowing him to take the center stage.

    The young wizards fixed their gaze on Bryan, their curiosity piqued. The air was pregnant with anticipation as he raised his arm, his wand firmly gripped in his hand.

    With a low shout, Bryan''s wrist suddenly shook, and his voice reverberated through the auditorium, filled with power and intent.

    "Canrady Leviosa!"

    In an instant, the atmosphere transformed. The fragile, limp feather burst into a crisp, metallic ng, its transformation leaving the onlookers awestruck.

    Bryan swiftly raised his arm, a surge of white light shooting forth like a cold lightning bolt. The light rapidly engulfed the surrounding space, weaving and flickering within and around the intricate metal frame of a chandelier suspended above the auditorium.

    Before anyone could react, the light returned to Bryan''s palm, leaving behind a profound sense of wonder. The chandelier remained intact, defying gravity and thews of physics.

    Buzzing ng!

    A sudden realization struck the students as Hannah Abbott, her voice filled with despair, shouted, "Professor, run! The chandelier is about to fall!"

    Panic seized the young wizards, and they scattered in all directions, their terrified screams echoing through the air. The room transformed into a scene of chaos, filled with the desperate attempts of students to escape the impending danger.

    However, Bryan found the situation rather amusing. Hisughter rang out, a joyful sound amidst the chaos. He raised his wand again, his movements precise and effortless.

    As if time had suddenly flowed backward, therge metal chandelier reassembled itself mid-air, defying thews of nature. It returned to its original position under the ceiling of the auditorium, as if the cmity had never urred.

    Amidst the relieved sighs of the students, Bryan''s gaze shifted towards ise Zabini, who had been pinned down by Crabbe. He stepped gracefully to the edge of the stage, his smile gentle yet filled with unwavering authority.

    "A powerful spell is right beside us, Mr. Zabini," Bryan stated, his voice carrying a weight that demanded understanding. He locked eyes with ise, ensuring his words prated deep into the young wizard''s consciousness.

    "Now, do you understand this lesson?"

    Author''s Note : The mention of the magic system like ancient magic and improving spell by adding magic power are all fictional and may also be true to canon. It will be Further exined in the uing chapters.

    /FicFrenzy

 045 Professor Watsonâ€™s First Lesson (Part 3)

    045 Professor Watson¡¯s First Lesson (Part 3)

    The second ss on Thursday morning was a Defense Against the Dark Arts ss,bining students from the fifth, sixth, and seventh grades. The ss was still held in the Great Hall.

    In this ss, Bryan, as a professor, had something special to tell the senior students who were about to graduate. He addressed the students, saying, "The fundamental principle of defense techniques lies in the requirement of equal or simr strength. for example, Even if I were to share all the knowledge of dueling and defense in my mind at this very moment, it is unlikely that any of you wouldst more than three seconds against the formidable Headmaster Dumbledore!"!"

    The senior students burst intoughter at this remark. Penelope Clearwater, Percy Weasley''s girlfriend from Ravenw, raised her hand and curiously asked, "What about you, Professor Watson? Can you defeat Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    Bryan yfully pouted and smiled, turning around and walking to the other side, saying, "Don''t ask me such embarrassing questions, Miss Clearwater!" He then continued, "There is a way of dividing strength among wizards who have received traditional magic education. You can learn from it and refer to it." The Great Hall fell silent, and more than two hundred pairs of curious eyes were fixed on Professor Watson.

    "As you all know, some traditional genre wizards still use one-on-one or one-on-many modes to train sessors. ording to ancient tradition, they call young wizards who are still receiving popr education in magic knowledge ''Wizard Apprentices.'' In terms of horizontalparison, the peak period of a wizard apprentice should be a young wizard who has obtained four or more certificates in the OWLS exam of modern magic education." The young wizards became happy upon hearing this, as most of them had reached this level. But Professor Watson''s next statement dampened their spirits, "The premise is to obtain this certificate with excellent grades."

    Percy, who had achieved all 12 excellent results in his OWLS certificate, felt a flush of pride and held his head up. There was no doubt that his overall level surpassed that of wizard apprentices.

    "Whates after apprentice wizards, professor?" Flint asked eagerly, showing interest in the subject for the first time in ss.

    "The next step is, of course, an official wizard," Bryan replied straightforwardly. "But the range of vertical progression for wizards at this level is vast. Compared to modern magic education, it goes down to the level of OWLS-qualified students and up to... well," Bryan pondered for a moment, then said uncertainly, "The upper limit is probably at the level of Elite Aurors in the Ministry of Magic. Sorry, the description may not be very urate because it''s not a systematic division."

    No one paid much attention to Professor Watson''s apology; they were all eager to know more. Especially the young wizards who had family members working in the Ministry of Magic knew how powerful the Elite Aurors were, and they couldn''t wait to pry more information from Professor Watson.

    Percy, who had been proven to be an official wizard, forgot to maintain his prefect demeanor and stared helplessly at Bryan.

    "The peak of an official wizard is probably the highest achievement most people studying magic can reach in their lifetime. Anything beyond that is not within the reach of ordinary individuals. In ancient times, only those who were gifted and lucky could forge their own unique magical paths and be chosen by the royal family as ''court wizards.''"

    The mention of court wizards ignited a fervent buzz among the young wizards. The discussion surged to new heights,sting for nearly ten minutes uninterrupted. Many students confidently asserted that their own family members were deserving of the revered title of court wizard, drawing upon Professor Watson''s description.

    "Consider Professor Snape''s unparalleled skill in potion-making, Professor McGonagall''s mastery of transfiguration, Professor Flitwick''s expertise in modern standard spells, and Professor Sprout''s vast knowledge of herbal medicine¡ªeach of them could be regarded as esteemed court wizards in ancient times!"

    Professor Watson''s smiling demeanor elevated the discussion in the Great Hall to a higher level, and it continued for nearly ten minutes without interruption. However, the conversation gradually took a direction that Bryan did not intend to see. Every student believed that their own family''s head was a deserving court wizard, but they were skeptical about the other three heads of houses.

    Severus Snape, in particr, received the most criticism. Some Gryffindor, Ravenw, and Hufflepuff students whispered that Snape, who only stayed in the basement brewing potions, was not worthy of the prestigious title of ''court wizard''. This angered the Slytherin students, and Flint, a tall and imposing figure, stood in front of all the Slytherins like a wall, ready to defend their honor. He red at those who doubted Slytherin, as if he was about to pounce on them and tear them apart.

    "Flint, get off the table quickly before I get angry," Bryan''s calm tone instantly brought Marcus back to his senses. He obediently got off the table and sincerely apologized to Bryan.

    "I''m telling you all this just to give you a basic understanding. When you encounter danger in the future, don''t charge fearlessly against powerful wizards who are far beyond your own strength. It''s not your duty to fight them."

    The young wizards suddenly realized that, besides Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, there was another wizard who possessed the ability to remain calm. Bryan''s deep eyes calmed everyone down, and he nodded in satisfaction. "Now, I think we should continue the previous topic and discuss how to deal with a werewolf that goes crazy upon seeing the full moon. It''s actually very simple. You just need to..."

    "Professor Watson¡ª"

    At that moment, Penelope Clearwater, who had previously asked if she could defeat Dumbledore, raised her hand again.

    "Do you have any more questions, Miss Clearwater?"

    Bryan strolled over to the Ravenw students, looking at her gently, and guessed that this Ravenw with a thirst for knowledge wanted to ask something.

    "You haven''t finished yet, Professor Watson."

    In the chaos just moments ago, Penelope, who had been stepped on several times, had been rubbing her ankles under the desk while muttering. It was adorable, and Percy in Gryffindor couldn''t help but melt at the sight.

    "Wizard apprentices, official wizards, court wizards. Whates next, professor? Are there any more levels?"

    "Oh!" Bryan pretended to remember, and with an inexplicable smile, he looked back and forth at the audience, as if intentionally teasing the young wizards. "Sorry, I forgot. There is indeed another level above court wizards."

    "Limited information is avable about the wizards above court wizards, as they are rare and their abilities are extraordinary," Bryan continued. "These wizards possess unparalleled mastery over their chosen field of magic and are revered as the greatest wizards of their time. They have achieved feats that are considered almost impossible by ordinary standards."

    The students listened intently, their eyes shining with ambition and curiosity.

    "Some examples of those wizards from history include Merlin, Morgana Le Fay, and other figures of myth and legend. Their names have echoed through the ages as paragons of magical prowess," Bryan exined.

    Then hurry up and tell us what are they called!

    Bryan could read this sentiment in the eyes of many.

    The dismissal bell had rung, and the vibrations from hundreds of people walking on the floor could be felt on the ceiling of the Great Hall. Some quick-witted young wizards had already stood by the second-floor railing, peering down.

    Hurry up, Professor! ss is already over!

    The young wizards in the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss were no longer satisfied with expressing their urgency through their eyes. They stood up one after another and softly urged Bryan.

    The crowd on the second floor instinctively parted, creating a path as Dumbledore, having just finished his meal, emerged with a warm smile on his face.

    "Grand Magus--" Bryan raised his head and nodded to Dumbledore, returning the smile.

    /FicFrenzy

    Author''s Note : At first i regarded the wizarding realm above the court wizards ''saint'' but one of you readers: ''Primordial'' suggested it to be ''Grand Magus, so i changed it.

    If you have some simr suggestions regarding character names, power levels, spell names, etc; you canment, i will consider and change it.

 046 Reactions

    046 Reactions

    Since the details of Monday afternoon''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss were widely circted, in the next few days, inside and outside the castle, there was only one topic, and that was Bryan Watson.

    ording to Cho Chang of Ravenw, at dinner that day, after Professor Flitwick heard about the levitating spell that Professor Watson showed, he rushed into Professor Watson''s office without saying a word, and stayed there for a full four hours.

    Fred and George also confirmed the reliability of the news. It was past one o''clock in the middle of the night. The two of them were adventuring in the castle. When they passed the third floor, they happened to meet Professor Flitwick dragging his exhausted body, panting, leaving Professor Watson''s office. There was still a contented smile on his rosy cheeks.

    "Sah!"

    Ron stood on the sofa in the lounge and controlled the goose feather that had been picked out of the sofa cushion, with a strange expression in his mouth. He roared, "Let you see my Empowered ''Levitation Charm''!"

    As he spoke, he quickly shook the repaired wand, just like Professor Watson did that day, pointing the wand straight at the sky. Then everyone nearby saw the feather floating above Ron''s head wobble, crawling towards the ceiling at a speed not much faster than a snail, and finally disappearing in the brilliant candlelight.

    Harry sat with his hand on the copy of ''Flying with the Cannons'' that Ron had given him over the Christmas holidays and hupped happily after seeing this.

    Ever since Professor Watson repaired Ron''s wand in Defense Against the Dark Arts ss and gave Ron his first bonus of the semester, Ronpletely forgot that Professor Watson used wonderful alchemy props to monitor all the little wizard''s unhappiness, making him a loyal fan.

    To be honest, the stupid thing Ron is doing now has happened many times in the castle. Malfoy once reviewed the Levitation Charm on a wooden stick in Transfiguration ss, hoping that it would fly over and pierce Harry''s eyes. He was then deducted twenty points by the angry Professor McGonagall.

    It had to be said that Professor Watson was extremely impressive in ss,, and even Harry himself secretly gestured with his wand in the dormitory when no one was around.

    "If I can practice like Professor Watson!"

    Ron jumped off the sofa cushion, looked at the chandelier above his head, and murmured in a sleepy tone, "Hmph, let''s see who dares to underestimate me again, I will first poke a thousand needle holes in Percy''s ass with a feather, and then poke two big holes in Malfoy''s face."

    "If you really want to do all of this, Ron¡ª"

    wrote across the table Hermione, who was drawing, said in an impatient tone, "Then you should sit down and study the spell model of the Enhanced ''Levitation Charm'' seriously with me, instead of gesticting!"

    "Oh, what a nuisance, why did you just can''t say something that I can do, Hermione."

    Ron, who fell from dream to reality, immediately hung his face dissatisfied.

    "It''s difficult, Hermione?!"

    Harry blinked his emerald eyes and asked yfully. In the days without attacks in the Chamber of Secrets and without Lockhart, he seemed happy every day.

    "It''s more difficult than ever, Harry. You can''t imagine what Professor Watson did to the Levitation Charm. To be honest, I even thought it was an after-school homework for Defense Against the Dark Arts ss!"

    Harry and Ron looked at each other, since they knew Hermione, it was the first time that they heard Hermione express dissatisfaction with the homework of any ss so clearly.

    "...It took me four full days to figure out that the ''Canri'' in ''Canrady Leviosa'' is taken from the ancient rune, ''Curd Canri'' - Titan de, put in this spell, it means ''sharp'' and ''indestructible''!"

    "Ancient runes can, but isn''t that a course that only starts in the third grade?"

    Neville, who was eavesdropping on the side, listened and turned his head and said anxiously.

    "Well said, Neville!"

    Hermione crossed her arms angrily, but her eyes were not sure to leave the parchment spread out on the table, the spell model that was drawn messily.

    "And the pronunciation of the word ''Wingardium'' is a ring in the spell model of the Levitation spell structure, its function is to limit the input of magic power, thereby weakening the effect of the Levitation Charm, so Professor Watson canceled it!"

    "That is to say!"

    Ron''s eyes lit up and he moved closer to Hermione, pretending to be himself. Can understandplex spell models on paper.

    "Can you use the Upgraded ''Levitation Charm''?!"

    "It''s not that simple, Ron!"

    Hermione''s wand thudded on the table as she eximed, "It''s not that simple, Ron! I may have deciphered Professor Watson''s thought process behind the spell transformation, but it doesn''t mean I possess the ability to perform it. Ick the precise control over magic power and the skill to seamlesslybine two parts under increased magical energy input¡ªa formidableposite spell!"

    Harry, Ron, and Neville looked at each other, and they all suddenly felt lonely in their two years of magic learning!

    "Hermione."

    Looking at the restless Hermione, Harry hesitantlyforted, "It doesn''t matter if you can''t use it, you have always been the best one in the first and second grades. So far, no one else can figure out Professor Watson''s ''Upgraded'' Levitation Charm!"

    "It doesn''t matter if you don''t use it. What are you talking about, Harry!"

    Hermione stared at Harry in surprise, as if Harry had said something as shocking as being expelled from school. "This is our homework!"

    "But¡ª"

    Neville rubbed his two chubby hands together, looking even more disturbed, "Professor Watson''s exact words were¡ªyou can try to study this spell, and if anyone seeds, I''ll give him twenty points."

    "Oh, Neville!" Hermione looked very upset. "We can''t just bezy because of a potential loophole in Professor Watson''s homework!"

    "Don''t pay attention to her, Neville. Our Miss Perfection has a great dream of bing a ''Grand Magus''!"

    The Weasley brothers, who had just been selling big dung eggs in the crowd, walked over shoulder to shoulder, and brought along their good friend, the Quidditchmentator, Lee Jordan.

    Hermione immediately hugged arge pile of reference books on the table angrily, grabbed her research results, and walked to the girls'' dormitory without looking back.

    "You shouldn''t have annoyed her¡ª"

    Ron looked at his two brothers and shrugged innocently, "you made Harry and me have to do our Potions homework by ourselves¡ª"

    "Oh, sorry, are you okay!"

    Hermione, who was running up the spiral staircase, identally knocked into someone due to her speed, and the book in her arms fell to the ground.

    "No, it''s nothing!"

    Ginny, who looked a little abnormal, tightly clutched her bulging pockets. After getting up from the ground, she didn''t care much about who hit her and ran away quickly with her head down. Hermione was left alone at the foot of the stairs , looking at Ginny''s panicked back with a furrowed brow, filled with concern.

    Inside the dimly lit dormitory, Parvati and Lavender sat on the same bed, giggling secretly as they admired a signed photo of Professor Lockhart. Their conversation soon shifted toparing the handsomeness of Professor Watson and Professor Lockhart, and discussing which second-year witches had received love letters.

    Hermione, eavesdropping on their conversation for a while, felt a sense of boredom creeping in. The magicalmp at the head of the bed cast Hermione''s slender back onto the wall opposite the bed. Lost in thought, Hermione stared at the dark silhouette, reflecting on the Weasley twins'' jokes and Ron''s apparent indifference when he left. For some unknown reason, she suddenly felt that the nights in early spring were colder than the harshest winter.

    Clutching her robe tightly, Hermione''s beautiful brown eyes became misty as tears welled up. She gazed out the window at the faint glimmer of stars, contemting the words that resonated within her lonely heart: "The strong are always lonely."

 047 Lockhartâ€™s little Secret

    047 Lockhart¡¯s little Secret

    Because Professor Lockhart was lying in the school infirmary being "cared for" by Madame Pomfrey, many of the ridiculous and absurd events that urred on Valentine''s Day in the original story did not happen.

    However, the school did make some effort to create a festive atmosphere. Early in the morning, as the young wizards entered the Great Hall for breakfast, their eyes widened in surprise. The hall was adorned with a circle of pale golden ribbons, gracefully swaying in the air like a halo of light. Colorful confetti floated down from the light blue ceiling, creating a magical disy of vibrant colors that sparkled in the sun. A small Cupid, with delicate white wings and rosy cheeks, stood at the entrance of the castle, greeting everyone with a warm smile and offering a bright red rose to each person who entered or left. The roses had a faint scent of vani and honey, and a soft touch that felt like silk.

    Harry and Ron, determined to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary, held out the roses they were given and presented them to Hermione. A glimmer of joy broke through Hermione''s previously gloomy demeanor as she epted the roses, her lips forming a genuine smile after a somber night.

    The day unfolded with a sense of quiet enchantment. The youthful and innocent love that permeated Valentine''s Day captured everyone''s attention. Hermione, deliberately avoiding any discussions rted to studying, indulged in the spirit of the day. Even Wood, as he arrived from the courtyard, refrained from mentioning the uing match or training ns when he encountered Harry.

    With most students from the third year and above venturing to Hogsmeade, the t grassy area designated for flying lessons was filled with first and second-year wizards. They zoomed around on their brooms,ughing and cheering as they practiced their skills. Some of them even tried to catch the confetti that drifted down from the sky, creating a yful scene.

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione luxuriated in the gentle sunlight, spending the entire morning engrossed in a game of Wizard''s Chess on the lush green grass. The chess pieces moved with animated expressions, sometimes taunting their opponents or cheering their allies. Harry won two games, Ron won one, and Hermione lost all three, but she didn''t mind. She was too busy enjoying thepany of her friends and the beauty of the day. After a satisfying lunch, Harry and Ron decided to pay a visit to Hagrid, while Hermione embarked on a solo journey to the infirmary, carrying with her a greeting card she had lovingly crafted. It was a simple card, made of parchment and decorated with dried flowers. On it, she had written a heartfelt message to Professor Lockhart, wishing him a speedy recovery and expressing her admiration for his achievements.

    At precisely two o''clock in the afternoon, following their prearranged n, Hermione hurriedly made her way to the third floor of the castle and gently knocked on the door of a certain professor''s office.

    "Pleasee in."

    The voice behind the door resonated with weariness. Without hesitation, Hermione pushed open the door and entered the room. Inside Professor Lockhart''s office, the walls were noticeably stripped of the numerous portraits and photographs that were once stered across them. Instead, they nowy collected and piled up in a corner. Professor Watson, sitting in Lockhart''s chair, faced the window, his gaze fixed on the owls gracefully soaring through the sky, delivering letters. In the middle of the office floor, a staggering pile of letters, numbering perhaps one or two thousand,y strewn about. They were all addressed to Professor Lockhart, written in variousnguages and scripts. Some of them had hearts or kisses drawn on them, others had perfume or glitter sprinkled on them. They all expressed admiration, gratitude, love, or curiosity for the famous wizard.

    "I never knew that Professor Lockhart had such a vast number of devoted fans!"

    Bryan Watson, his face etched with a pained expression, sat behind the desk, his eyes reflecting the exhaustion brought on by the task at hand. "If I had known earlier, I would have dly assisted Professor Snape with frog innards and snail slime, rather than agreeing to help with these replies!"

    "But you''re such a devoted fan and admirer of Professor Lockhart, aren''t you, Professor Watson? You must appreciate the magnitude of his fame and influence!" Hermione, whose eyes still bore the traces of tears from her ordeal in the infirmary, couldn''t help but frown at the sight of Professor Watson''s gloomy expression.

    "Let''s not talk about that, Miss Granger," Bryan Watson said, waving his wand with a hint of irritation. In a sh, the thousands of letters scattered on the floor soared upward, forming a dazzling white whirlwind in mid-air. With precise movements, each letter found its ce, neatly stacking back on the floor. As thest letter settled, an impressive ''pir of mail'' emerged, reaching up to the ceiling.

    "I don''t want to trouble you with this, Miss Granger. Let''s split the work, and hopefully, we can finish this chore before dinner tomorrow."

    Bryan Watson rubbed his swollen eyes, a sign of his sleepless night spent in the Restricted Section of the library, and let out a weary yawn.

    And so, the most tedious task began. Bryan Watson and Hermione bent over the desk, burying themselves in the mountainous ''pir of mail.'' Helping Lockhart with his replies turned out to be the most boring job Bryan Watson had faced in years. The letters all followed the same pattern¡ªexcessive praise, autograph requests, or inquiries for updates. In essence, writing responses to Professor Lockhart''s fans became a painfully dull affair. Bryan Watson barely left more than ten words in each letter. However, even after just an hour, he found it hard to bear.

    On the other hand, Hermione, seated across from him, tackled the task with apletely different attitude. She regarded the opportunity to assist Professor Lockhart with his replies as a privilege. Diligently, she carefully read the content of each letter and meticulously crafted thoughtful responses.

    As time slowly ticked by, two hours passed before Hermione turned her head to assess the progress made. To her dismay, she discovered that the ''pir of mail'' had only shrunk by a third. She rubbed her sore wrists and nced at Professor Watson, who seemed to have stopped writing replies altogether. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze lost in the contemtion of the ceiling.

    Hermione''s pursed lips mirrored the stern demeanor of Professor McGonagall, and she called out reproachfully.

    Under Hermione''s watchful supervision, a dejected Bryan Watson reluctantly resumed attending to the readers'' letters. This time, whenever Miss Granger lifted her head to observe him, he had no chance to ck off, for she left him no room for negligence.

    Bryan Watson and Hermione dined within the office. While Professor Watson could have easily ordered the house-elves to deliver the food, he chose to personally retrieve it from the Great Hall, allowing himself a few moments of respite.

    "Professor Watson¨C"

    During the meal, Hermione no longer cast her gaze upon the letters. She savored her steak at a leisurely pace, stealing nces in the dimly lit surroundings, her eyes drawn to the mysterious Professor Watson with his deep purplish eyes. For some inexplicable reason, her heartbeat quickened.

    "About that sentence you mentioned to mest week in the library¨C"

    "Hmm?"

    Bryan Watson kept his head lowered, engrossed in his meal, his responseing out in a nasal tone. Only after swallowing did he raise his eyes to meet Hermione''s, her flushed cheeks capturing his attention.

    "Are you feeling alright, Miss Granger?"

    Hermione hesitated, unsure of how to express the faint sense of loneliness that stirred within her heart. After a moment, under Bryan Watson''s gentle gaze, she nodded hesitantly

    "The strong are always destined for solitude, Miss Granger, but life itself is inherently lonesome. Aside from ideals and beliefs, everything and everyone we encounter on our journey toward oblivion can only apany us temporarily. Once you grasp this understanding, there is no need for perplexity."

    Bryan Watson''s casual tone failed to provide rity to the young witch seated before him. Instead, his words plunged her into a deeper state of turmoil.

    After dinner, Bryan Watson surrenderedpletely to a state of lethargy. No matter how fiercely Miss Granger red at him, he slouchedzily in his chair, allowing his gaze to wander aimlessly.

    Professor Lockhart''s desk disyed his personal books, published by various publishers, adorning its surface. In the upper-left corner of the desk, a stack of memoirs rested atop ancient wizard research manuscripts, catching Bryan Watson''s eye during his previous visit. These manuscripts were undoubtedly precious artifacts. If he were in Lockhart''s position, he would have cherished and guarded them, rather than carelessly tossing them aside.

    Though tempted to delve into their contents and study them further, Bryan Watson forcibly suppressed the impulse out of moral decency.

    On the right side of the desk, a separate stack of thick manuscripts beckoned. Bryan Watson had glimpsed them earlier upon entering the office. It appeared to be Lockhart''s uing unpublished book, titled "A Year of Coexistence with Samoset Giants."

    "Tsk tsk, such an acquired taste!"

    Driven by boredom, Bryan Watson reached out and picked up the manuscript. Compared to the ancient wizard research manuscripts, this particr work seemed less taboo.

    The candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across the room, while a faintly cool evening breeze gently tapped against the window. The office embraced an atmosphere of tranquil stillness, apanied only by the sound of a quill scratching rapidly against parchment and the asional rustle of turning pages.

    After a while, Hermione, engrossed in her diligent work, furrowed her brow, sensing an unexined chill permeating the air. Tentatively, she raised her head, scanning the room in search of the source. Her eyes finally settled on Bryan Watson, his lips curled into a cold smirk as he intently perused the manuscript.

    "Professor¨C"

    Hesitation tinged Hermione''s voice as she cautiously inquired, "What are you reading?"

    "It is Professor Lockhart''s new book manuscript," Bryan Watson replied, his tone filled with intrigue. "It documents the ''discovery'' process of this story, and I must say, it is quite fascinating¨C"

    But isn''t Professor Lockhart''s book meant to be a record of his own experiences? Why did Professor Watson use the word ''discovery''?

    Furthermore, it was not proper to peek at Professor Lockhart''s private manuscript without permission. Professor!

    Before Hermione could voice her concerns, Bryan Watson abruptly mmed the manuscript back onto the table, his calm demeanor nowced with authority.

    "That''s enough for today, Miss Granger. You should go rest."

    Looking at the closed door and Hermione''s perplexed expression, Bryan Watson''s eyes shed with sympathy. When the dayes and Professor Lockhart''s reputation crumbles, Miss Granger will likely be overwhelmed with shame for once idolizing such a scoundrel.

    He stood up and waved his wand forcefully, causing the drawer beneath the desk to close with a snap. Simultaneously, the suitcases ced against the wall opened one after another, and hidden manuscripts flew from all directions, levitating before Bryan Watson. They stood suspended in mid-air, slowly flipping through their pages, revealing the unforgivable secrets they held.

    "Hmph¨C"

    After briefly skimming through all the manuscripts, Bryan let out a cold snort. He looked at the picture frame ced on the tea table, where the wizard inside no longer wore a radiant smile but instead shrunk into a corner of the frame., staring at Bryan Watson in terror, trembling uncontrobly. "A bit of courage, Professor Lockhart. I''m truly impressed." Bryan stood alone in the office, hisughter softly murmuring.

    IMPORTANT BELOW:

    AUTHOR''S NOTE: In this chapter i have added some things like some readers said so this is a kind of experimental chapter, if you guys like this in more detailed way then i will start writing like this from now on, if you think that the style of previous chpaters was good then i will do in previous chapter. No need to worry the core story won''t change. Its just a style change. Let Me Know in the Comments Section your thoughts.

 048 The Diary

    048 The Diary

    Hermione was baffled by Professor Watson''s reaction when he glimpsed Professor Lockhart''s unpublished manuscript. His face registered aplex blend of surprise, disappointment, and maybe even amusement. She wondered what could have caused such an odd expression as she stepped into the Castle''s lounge through the Fat Lady''s portrait. Her curiosity nagged at her mind, making her eager to find out more about Professor Watson''s mysterious response.

    The night was deepening, and the vast lounge was silent except for a few scattered souls. Harry and Ron were sprawled on the plush sofa near the firece, drifting into slumber. They had stayed up for Hermione, aware of how easily she could lose track of time when she was working on something.

    Hermione walked towards them, feeling a twinge of loneliness in her chest. Life could be so hollow sometimes, she thought sadly as she reached Harry and Ron.

    "Why aren''t you two sleeping in the dormitory?" Hermione asked them softly as she joined them on the sofa. Her delicate eyebrows arched in a slightly spoiled expression as she entered.

    She knew they had waited for her out of concern, but she couldn''t help teasing them a little.

    "Why else? We are naturally worried that you would be so absorbed in your fascinating work that you would skip dinner!"

    Harry and Ron, who had been snoring lightly, were roused by her voice. They blinked their groggy eyes, and Ron muttered grumpily as he sat up.

    Hermione settled across from them, ncing at the tableden with food, and a faint smile touched her lips. She wasn''t really hungry, but she felt a warmth in her heart.

    That''s when Hermione spotted a ck notebook tucked under several slices of toast. The notebook looked rather old, judging by its frayed cover.

    Hermione''s eyes darted to Ron, who shrugged his shoulders casually and nodded at Harry, signaling that he should exin.

    "In the afternoon, on our way back to the dormitory, Ron and I passed by the second floor and heard Moaning Myrtle having a fit in one of the bathrooms. We were curious, so we went in to check it out and found this notebook. It belongs to Tom Riddle!"

    Harry said with emphasis, hoping that Hermione would catch his meaning. "Ron thought this thing might be dangerous and told me to toss it away."

    "Toss it away?"

    Hermione snapped out of her tiredness and became animated. She grabbed the notebook and inspected it carefully. "What nonsense are you talking, Ron? There might be clues in here!"

    "Well, he sure did a good job of hiding them," Ron said with a bored tone. "Maybe it''s too ashamed to show itself. I don''t get why you''re keeping it, Harry."

    "I want to know why someone wanted to get rid of it," Harry said thoughtfully. "And I''m really curious about how Riddle got the Special Contribution Award from Hogwarts."

    "There could be a lot of reasons, Harry," Ron said with a shrug. "Maybe he aced all his O.W.L.s, or he saved a teacher from the giant squid''s tentacles. Maybe he killed Moaning Myrtle, and everyone was happy about it."

    The three of them knew that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened fifty years ago, and a student had died, and the culprit had been expelled. And it just so happened that Riddle had received the Special Contribution Award around that time. It didn''t take much brainpower to figure out that there must be some link.

    Hermione tried to coax some words out of the notebook for a while, but she couldn''t get anything out of the nk pages. Finally, she gave up reluctantly.

    "Maybe we should give this to Professor Watson or Headmaster Dumbledore. They are powerful wizards who might be able to crack the notebook''s secrets."

    Hermione said with a frown and suggested her idea.

    Harry, however, unexpectedly opposed the reasonable proposal. "Not many people in the school are talking about this anymore, Hermione. I don''t want to make a big fuss about it again. But, if, and I mean if, the Heir of Slytherines out and continues their activities, then I''ll let you give it to Professor Watson!" He said firmly, clutching Riddle''s diary in his hand.

    In reality, it was just an excuse. Even Harry couldn''t exin why he didn''t just toss Riddle''s diary away. The truth was, over the next few days, despite knowing that the diary was empty, he would take it out whenever no one was around, lost in thought, hoping to find something inside. He felt a strange attraction to the old leather-bound book, as if it was hiding a secret that only he could unravel.

    A new week began, and February officially entered its second half. The hottest topic in school recently was Professor Watson suddenly bing the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher without any prior signs. Wherever you went, you could hear young wizards discussing his astonishing skills in the first and second-year sses, as well as his teachings on the different levels of magical mastery in the fifth, sixth, and seventh-year sses. On the other hand, not many people discussed the methods Bryan taught to deal with dark wizards and dangerous creatures in his sses. They seemed too abstract andplicated for most students to grasp.

    In each house, young wizards confidently proimed that their certain rtives possessed the power of "court-level wizards." It was as if the magical world had suddenly returned to ancient times, where having two court-level wizards in a family was a necessity, and it would be embarrassing not to greet people when going out. They boasted about their family''s achievements and prestige, trying to impress their peers with their connections.

    In each college, there are young wizards who firmly im that their certain rtive possesses the power of a "Court Wizard," as if the magical world has suddenly returned to ancient times. With two Court Wizards in their family, they feel too embarrassed to greet people when they go out.

    As for the level of "Grand Magus," no young wizard dares to challenge them. They are revered and feared as the most powerful and influential wizards in history. They can shape reality with their will andmand respect from all living beings. They are legends that transcend time and space.

    "Dumbledore is undoubtedly a Grand Magus!" a confident Hufflepuff named MacMin firmly dered to his fellow housemate, Hannah Abbott, as if he had received confirmation directly from Principal Dumbledore and Professor Watson. His eyes sparkled with admiration and awe. "And I suspect Professor Watson might be one too," he continued, his conviction unwavering. "Just think about it, Hannah. Ever since Professor Watson arrived at Hogwarts as an investigator, the heir of Slytherin has refrained from any further activity. He mustck the confidence to face two ''Grand Magus'' simultaneously!" He said smugly, as if he had solved a great mystery.

    MacMin''s theory gained traction among the students, spreading like wildfire. The reshuffling of sses meant that the third and fourth years, taught directly by Professor Watson,menced their sessions on Tuesday afternoon of the third week. The mischievous Weasley twins, Fred and George, seized this opportunity to yfully tease their professor. They jokingly asked, "Professor Watson, may we ask if you are a ''Grand Magus''?" Their voices were loud enough for everyone to hear. They winked at each other and grinned wickedly.

    Bryan Watson, standing on the podium, smiled slyly at the two peculiar Weasley twins. He hadn''t expected such a quick opportunity for revenge! He had recognized them at Hogsmeade when they tried to prank him with a fake wand. He decided to teach them a lesson they would never forget. "So, Mr. Weasley twins, would you like to demonstrate to everyone how to defeat a ''Grand Magus''?" He asked casually, gesturing for them toe up on stage. His tone was calm and friendly, but his eyes were full of mischief.

    Oh oh oh! The hall suddenly erupted into roars ofughter and excitement, like a hurricane hitting the waves. Among the Hufflepuff formation, Cedric Diggory , a fourth-year student and Quidditch captain , jumped onto the table and shouted at the twins , "Let everyone see what you''ve got , Weasley!" He cheered them on enthusiastically.

    "Show us what you can do , Fred and George . Don''t embarrass Gryffindor !" There were also cheers from within Gryffindor . Angelina Johnson , Alicia Spi , and Katie Bell , who were on the Quidditch team with Fred and George ,ughed heartily and pped the twins'' shoulders.

    "This is definitely revenge , Fred!" George whispered through gritted teeth as they trembled and supported each other while going up on stage. "Last time at Hogsmeade, Professor Watson definitely recognized us!" He said nervously, remembering how they had failed to fool the professor with their prank.

    The duel ended much faster than anyone start had expected.

    As soon as they got on stage and before Professor Watson could announce the, the twins, with perfect synchronization, immediately split up and ran in two different directions, surrounding Bryan Watson from both sides.

    "Are you ready, Fred?" George shouted.

    "Ready and waiting, brother!" Fred responded resolutely.

    Bryan Watson smiled as he watched the two troublemakers pull out tworge dung bomb bags from under their robes, but before they could act, he swiftly waved his wand! Bang! Bang! Bang! The scene of hundreds of dung bombs exploding simultaneously and the apanying stench were particrly striking. Fred and George, covered in filth, wailed as they copsed to the ground, looking as if they had been hit by a Cruciatus Curse! Their faces were twisted in pain and disgust, and their clothes were stained with brown and green spots.

    "Let''s go down together, Professor!" They shouted defiantly, hoping to drag him down with them. But to their surprise, momentster, the twin brothers got up from the ground at the same time, ring fiercely at Professor Watson, and with unwavering courage, they charged towards him! They ignored theughter and jeers from the audience, determined to get their revenge.

    If they were scared by such tricks, Bryan Watson would have wasted his time in the underground world all these years. He maintained a smiling expression, casually shaking his wrist. A red ball of light, the size of a Quaffle and emitting a fiery tail, burst out from the tip of his wand and flew above his head. It looked like a miniature sun, dazzling and powerful.

    Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

    Before Fred and George could reach within ten feet, the red ball of light above Professor Watson''s head suddenly shone brightly, and dozens of red beams shot out in all directions. Each Weasley approaching was hit by at least two or three beams on their chests, and then they copsed to the ground, unconscious! They fell like ragdolls, their limbs limp and their eyes closed.

    ''The Stunning Spell - Group Edition.''

    Bryan Watson thought to himself, proud of his invention. He had modified the standard Stunning Spell to create a more effective version that could target multiple enemies at once. He had used it many times in his missions, and it never failed him.

    Bryan Watson looked down at the stunned young wizards below with a smug smile and said, "Excuse me, which student can help carry them to the infirmary?" He asked politely, as if he had done nothing wrong.

    He then nced at the rest of the students with a yful wink and added, "Don''t worry, they''ll be fine. They just need some rest and a good wash." He said cheerfully, making everyoneugh even harder.

 049 Hagridâ€™s 8-eyed Spider

    049 Hagrid¡¯s 8-eyed Spider

    Bryan, with an air of confidence, moved through the hallowed corridors of Hogwarts Castle, his reputation soaring among the students. As he passed, a hushed reverence followed him, and eyes filled with awe and admiration followed his every step. It was as though he had ascended above even the esteemed Professors McGonagall and Snape with his recent victory over Fred and George in ss.

    One particr incident had left asting impression on the students'' minds. When Bryan entered the sixth-floor prefects'' bathroom, an almost magical silence enveloped the spacious room. The heads of the prefects clustered together, their usual authoritative demeanor giving way to fear and trepidation. They dared not disturb Bryan during his grooming process, as the mere presence of the young wizardmanded such respect that it felt sacrilegious to intrude.

    Only after Bryan sighed in resignation and departed, havingpleted his sanitary needs, did the vibrant atmosphere return to the bathroom. Whispers and murmurs filled the air once more as the students puzzled over why Bryan chose the prefects'' bathroom instead of the more exclusive facilities reserved for the professors.

    Oliver Wood, his head adorned with a pile of colorful bubbles from the enchanted bath, submerged himself in the water, still trembling from the encounter. He turned to Percy, who had been observing Bryan with reverence from the beginning, and voiced the question that lingered in everyone''s mind.

    "Why doesn''t Professor Watson use the professors'' dedicated bathroom?"

    The question hung in the air like a tangible mystery, and the students eagerly awaited an answer. They couldn''t fathom why Bryan, with his prestigious status, would opt for the prefects'' bathroom instead of the more luxurious and exclusive facilities reserved for the revered Hogwarts staff.

    In truth, Bryan''s actions were not driven by a desire to unt his status or make a statement. He simply had no knowledge of the professors'' dedicated bathroom''s existence. Professor McGonagall, who had meticulously arranged his office and living quarters, had somehow neglected to mention it to him. Even the discovery of the sixth-floor prefects'' bathroom had been a fortuitous ident during Bryan''s time as a student.

    As the evening wore on and the clock struck eight, Bryan, now d in clean wizard robes, found himself standing before the intricately carved door of Dumbledore''s office. With a slight trepidation in his heart, he knocked and entered, meeting Dumbledore''s weing gaze.

    "It seems this is your first visit to my office on your own ord since you came back to Hogwarts, isn''t it, Bryan?" Dumbledore observed, resting his hands under his chin and smiling cautiously. His bright blue eyes radiated both warmth and wisdom, putting Bryan somewhat at ease.

    Bryan couldn''t help but think, "If I had nothing to do, why would I keep wandering around you?" In truth, he was an inherently insecure individual, and despite his elevated status, he saw Dumbledore as the only wizard in Hogwarts who posed a threat to his life. Thus, he feltpelled to maintain some distance and guard against any potential conflicts.

    "Well, Headmaster Dumbledore..." Bryan began, exchanging a few pleasantries before slowly revealing the purpose of his visit. He shared his ambitious n to introduce the young wizards to various magical creatures based on their proficiency levels, starting in March. Seeking Dumbledore''s opinion on the matter, Bryan hoped for his support and guidance.

    "You are the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Bryan, and thus, you haveplete autonomy in this matter," Dumbledore replied, his face adorned with a warm smile, disying his open-mindedness and trust in Bryan''s abilities.

    However, Bryan''s expression seemed slightly unnatural, and he cleared his throat, covering his slight nervousness. "The issue is, I believe it would be beneficial to consult with you beforehand regarding the creatures I n for them to encounter."

    Dumbledore, who had initially listened with casual interest, could no longer maintain his rxed demeanor. Frowning in distress, he recognized the radical and potentially dangerous nature of Bryan''s n.

    "Bryan, this is a daring and perilous endeavor. You must understand that young wizards have their limitations. Have you thoroughly considered the potential risks and consequences of your decision?"

    "Talents cannot be nurturedfortably in a cradle, Headmaster Dumbledore. While I acknowledge the limitations of young wizards, I believe that courage and determination in the face of danger are particrly important for their growth. If we wish to see tangible progress, some level of risk is eptable," Bryan replied, his voice filled with unwavering conviction.

    Dumbledore, a shrewd and experienced individual shaped by the unfortunate events of his century, approached every situation with caution and care. But even he recognized the need for decisive action.

    "I will discuss this matter with Professor McGonagall. I believe she will understand your intentions. However, to ensure nothing unexpected urs, I suggest you have Professor Snape apany you during your sses. He can provide guidance and assistance, and I trust his judgment," Dumbledore suggested, seeking to strike a bnce between support and caution.

    Relieved, Bryan expressed his gratitude to Headmaster Dumbledore for his understanding and support. However, Dumbledore hesitated once more before speaking.

    "Regarding the mention of Acromants, I suggest you first discuss this matter with Hagrid," he advised.

    Bryan was taken aback but quickly regained hisposure. "Are you suggesting that Hagrid keeps Acromants in the Forbidden Forest?"

    Confirming Bryan''s assumption, Dumbledore nodded. Amusement mingled with surprise in Bryan''s expression.

    "I''ve heard of Hagrid''s fondness forrge and dangerous magical creatures since my school days. However, I never imagined he would consider Acromants, creatures known for their hostility towards wizards, as pets. It is truly astonishing!"

    "Perhaps it is Hagrid''s pure and untainted heart that allows him to enjoy the favor of those fascinating creatures who share our world," Dumbledore mused, his voice filled with wisdom. He smiled at Bryan, saying, "However, he has paid a considerable price for such affections."

    An hourter, Bryan emerged from Dumbledore''s office, his steps heavy as he stood before the stone monster guarding the entrance. The torches lining the walls cast flickering light on his slightly furrowed brow, lending a serious and solemn air to his expression.

    Initially, Bryan had merely sought Dumbledore''s advice on the magical creatures for his sses. Little did he expect to receive such valuable information. He had long been aware of Hagrid''s expulsion from Hogwarts but never knew the precise reason. Now, he discovered that Hagrid''s encounter with the Acromant during his fifth year had led to his expulsion. To Bryan''s astonishment, this incident was somehow connected to the Chamber of Secrets and Voldemort himself. The pieces began to fall into ce, and Bryan''s eyes glimmered with realization.

    Dumbledore had not explicitly stated it, but his implications were clear. Fifty years ago, Hagrid had not been the one to open the Chamber of Secrets. Instead, it was likely Tom Riddle, who had reported Hagrid to the authorities.

    Bryan''s thoughts raced, and he considered the significance of this revtion. Voldemort, a descendant of Szar Slytherin, and Hagrid''s expulsion due to the Acromant incident. It made sense, and Bryan even spected on a closer connection between Voldemort and Szar Slytherin beyond shared ideological beliefs. The rumors circting within the castle about Harry Potter''s blood connection to Slytherin suddenly took on new meaning.

    "The possibility of Parseltongue being an innate talent that awakens differently from others is small. It is likely a hidden power within the bloodline. Could Potter and Voldemort also be rted?" Bryan pondered, deep in thought.

    Dumbledore possessed more knowledge than he shared, but for various reasons, he had not disclosed everything to Bryan. And in that moment, Bryan felt grateful for the secrets kept from him. He preferred not to be drawn further into theplicated web of events.

    "Regardless, I must speak with Hagrid," Bryan murmured, his gaze fixed on the flickering mes at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The light yed across his face, illuminating his determination.

 050 Triumph & Dilemma

    050 Triumph & Dilemma

    On a sunny Monday afternoon when birds chirped cheerfully outside and a crisp Friday morning when frost covered the windowsills , the two Defense Against the Dark Arts sses for little wizards in grades one and two were in session. Inside the spacious auditorium with high ceilings , where only the faint sound of needles knitting could be heard, all the eager young wizards fixed their gaze on Hermione and Professor Watson, who stood on the high tform. Their eyes were filled with intensity, yet they dared not make a sound for fear of missing anything . Even Neville, with his fists clenched on his chest and his heart pounding , assumed a posture of prayer as he hoped for the best .

    Bryan, wielding his wand with confidence and grace , flicked it gracefully, causing a ten-foot-wide stone pir to rise from the ground like a majestic monument . It stood proudly in the center of the elevated tform as if challenging anyone to break it .

    "Then, Miss Granger¡ª" Bryan''s encouraging gaze fell upon Hermione, whose nervous fingertips trembled like leaves in the wind . He smiled warmly and said in a gentle tone , "Please begin your performance."

    "Professor Watson¡­" Hermione''s voice quivered slightly, tinged with a hint of apprehension and doubt . In her heart, she regretted ever raising her hand to answer the professor''s question that led to this moment . She stammered with a dry mouth , "I can''t guarantee sess."

    "Show yourself, Miss Granger, this is an unprecedented sess!" Bryan continued to encourage her with a smile that reached his eyes .

    After approximately five minutes of trembling and breathlessness that seemed like an eternity , Hermione managed to ovee the psychological tension that gripped her mind . She mustered the courage to raise her right hand, holding the wand firmly , and aimed it at her sweat-drenched left palm. With a voice slightly immature but clear , she spoke the incantation, "Canrady Leviosa!"

    The sound of her slightly quivering voice reverberated throughout the silent and empty auditorium like a thunderp . Apanied by the flickering light on the surface of the white feather that glowed like a star , a crisp ng resounded, causing everyone in the room to gasp in astonishment as they witnessed something extraordinary .

    "Hiss!" A sudden intake of breath echoed through the rows of young wizards from each of the four houses as they leaned forward in their seats .

    "Harry, did you hear what she said?!" Ron''s eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at Hermione on the high tform. It seemed as if he was seeing her for the first time in a new light . Even Harry''s expression mirrored Ron''s disbelief. He whispered in awe , "No, Ron! I''ve never heard that before!"

    "It''s unbelievable." Neville, standing behind them, stared wide-eyed with excitement. His flushed face conveyed the amazement he felt. "I could never do that!" He said with admiration and envy .

    "Such an achievement from a lowly Mudblood." Among the awe-struck gazes directed at Hermione, only the Slytherin side, led by Malfoy, whispered this sentence disdainfully with a sneer on his face . But as soon as Bryan, standing thirty feet away, cast an imperceptible nce at him, Malfoy immediately fell silent, too frightened to utter another word. Nevertheless, a lingering uncertainty flickered in Bryan''s gray pupils, leaving a slightly gloomy impression as he wondered about something .

    After silencing the malicious Malfoy, Bryan turned his gaze once again to Hermione, whose fair cheeks now burned bright red from embarrassment and excitement . With a steady voice, he nodded and said with curiosity and anticipation , "Try to see if you can cut through the stone pir, Miss Granger."

    Hesitant, Hermione nodded and looked at the stone pir. Her arms trembled slightly, as though what she held in her hands was not a magical wand, but a heavy metal rod weighing dozens of kilograms that drained her strength .

    A sharp whistle pierced the air as the feather, with a slight metallic luster that reflected the light , sliced through the atmosphere like a bullet . In the blink of an eye, it collided with the stone pir.

    "Snapped!" All eyes immediately turned to the stone pir. With a crisp cracking sound, the smooth surface of the stone exploded, sending fragments flying into the sky like a rainstorm of rocks and dust .

    Once the dust settled, disappointment filled the faces of the little wizards in the audience as they looked upon the broken stone pir with pity and sympathy .

    "Sorry, Professor Watson, I failed!" Hermione, who had glimpsed the oue before anyone else with horror and dismay, bit her lower lip tightly. Her brown eyes glistened with tears, and she appeared devastated, as though she had been dealt a significant blow to her pride and confidence

    Bryan stepped forward to carefully inspect the scene. Hermione''s feather had shattered into fine fragments mixed with gravel, while the stone pir he had transformed now bore a small pit on its surface, still far from beingpletely broken. It seemed like an insurmountable distance.

    "This isn''t a failure, Miss Granger." Bryan pointed to the small indentation in the stone and smiled at Hermione. "To sessfully cast an ''Enhanced Levitation Charm,'' you need strong magical power and precise control. These are precisely what junior wizardsck. I believe you have grasped the essence of this spell. All you need to do is practice diligently. As you grow older, your magical power will gradually increase. One day, you will be able to cast theplete ''Enhanced Levitation Charm''!" He said these words with sincerity and encouragement, hoping to boost Hermione''s confidence and morale. He knew how hard she worked and how much she cared about learning magic. He wanted her to see this as a learning opportunity, not a setback.

    Hermione''s iplete "Enhanced Levitation Charm" became the hottest topic on that Friday. Wherever she went, people would stop her and ask for the secret behind her spell.

    During lunchtime, even Percy managed to squeeze in, disregarding Ron''s unhappiness, and approached Hermione with a slightly respectful tone, seeking her advice.

    Truthfully, this was the first time Hermione had experienced the feeling of being famous. She felt a mix of pride and embarrassment as she answered the questions andpliments from her peers and seniors. She tried to act modest and humble, but she couldn''t help feeling a bit smug and pleased with herself. She had done something no one else had done before, and she knew it was a remarkable feat.

    "Don''t get too proud, Hermione. You''re still far from reaching Professor Watson''s level!"

    After dinner, as Hermione made her way towards the library to do some more research on the spell , she dealt with two Ravenw third-year sisters who bombarded her with technical questions . She reminded herself to remain vignt and not let her guard down , but an undeniable smile yed on her lips as she enjoyed the attention and admiration .

    In the early hours of the night, Bryan sat in his office in front of a firece , contemting the bottle of memory he held in his hand with a pensive expression . asionally, he would raise his head to nce at the monitor on the opposite wall that showed various scenes from around the castle .

    To this point, Bryan had heavily invested in setting up the monitoring system using his own devices and spells , but it had utterly failed him in finding any clues about the heir of Slytherin . He was almost certain that as long as he remained at Hogwarts, the heir would not dare to act again for fear of being exposed by him. The only option left was to obtain the clues held by the "protagonist group." He knew they were somehow involved in the mystery, but he didn''t know how or why.

    The me of the voodoo doll candlestick behind him had shrunk by half once again as it burned away his life force , and the crimson dragon blood had gradually faded to a soft pink as it lost its magical potency . In approximately a month''s time, it would lose its effect entirely and leave him vulnerable to Voldemort''s curse . Before that happened, Bryan knew he had to step down from his position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and find another way to protect himself . Otherwise, he would subject himself to the Dark Lord''s curse.

    On his desky Lockhart''s manuscript on ancient magic research rted to memory that he had secretly borrowed from his office . Bryan had brought it over and spent several days studying it in hopes of finding something useful for his own purposes .

    Strictly speaking, Bryan''s actions bordered on theft and vited Lockhart''s privacy . Under normal circumstances, he would never stoop to such behavior as he valued honesty and integrity . However, after discovering Lockhart''s true nature as a fraud and a liar , Bryan carried no burden in his conscience.

    To him, matters of ck and white were nothing new as he had lived in a world of gray for most of his life . He had engaged in simr activities before when the situation called for it .

    The sound of an urgent knock at the door interrupted Bryan''s contemtion. Swiftly hiding away anything unsuitable for prying eyes under a cloak of invisibility , he stood up and approached the door.

    "Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy."

    Bryan raised an eyebrow as he regarded Snape, whose expression seemed to hold a mix of emotions such as anger, envy, and curiosity . Draco Malfoy, half-hidden behind Snape, was pushed forward reluctantly . Surprise flickered in Bryan''s eyes as he watched Snape, who then turned around and left without a word as if he couldn''t stand being in his presence .

    "You two maye in and talk," Bryan offered politely but coldly .

    "No need."

    Snape''s dark eyes held a slight ripple as he looked at Bryan, who had caused quite a stir within the castle in recent days. The boy had a mysterious aura that intrigued and unsettled Snape, who had sensed his extraordinary potential since he was a young wizard in the lower grades. Snape was certain that this unknown child would achieve remarkable feats one day, but he never anticipated it would happen so soon and surpass his own achievements.

    No matter how low-key an exceptional person might be, their brilliance cannot be concealed. Snape could already predict that this genius, born seemingly out of nowhere, would soon shock the entire wizarding world. It wouldn''t be far-fetched to imagine that this child could one day surpass even Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of their time.

    "The boy has something to ask you but doesn''t have the courage toe alone,"

    Snape exined, his eyes suppressing any lingering ripples. He grabbed Malfoy, who was standing behind him, and pushed him toward Bryan. Malfoy stumbled forward, his face pale and his eyes wide with fear and resentment. Snape turned and departed, leaving them alone in his office. The room was dimly lit by a few candles, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Books, potions, and strange artifacts cluttered the shelves and the desk, creating a sense of mystery and danger. Snape closed the door behind him, silently offering his blessings in his heart.

    "I hope your future won''t be like mine, clinging to the remnants of light in the darkness, Bryan. May you bask in the sunlight and shine with your own brilliance."

    Bryan stood there, watching Snape''s retreating figure, and then shifted his attention to the hesitant Malfoy.

    /ficfrenzy

 051 The Studious Malfoy

    051 The Studious Malfoy

    "If I remember correctly, Mr. Malfoy, this should be the first time you and I have met in private since the Christmas vacation?" Professor Watson''s voice reverberated through the spacious office, casting an atmosphere of tension that seemed to linger in the air. The piercing gaze of Professor Watson fixated on the desk opposite Malfoy, creating an impression that Malfoy was walking on a thin sheet of ice. Bryan, with a steaming cup of bitter tea in hand, lowered his head slightly, lost in a maze of contemtion. Since his return to Hogwarts, he had found sce in drinking tea more often than before.

    Despite his distaste for bitter beverages, tea had be his beverage of choice, an inexplicable craving that surfaced whenever he desired a drink. Bryan contemted the intricate nature of humanity, pondering on theplexities of the human mind, as he looked up once again to meet Malfoy''s uneasy stare.

    "Yes, you remember correctly, Professor Watson," Malfoy responded, his gaze fixed on his toes. He fidgeted on the cushioned stool, as if a thorn pricked his posterior, causing visible difort.

    With graceful poise, Bryan leaned on the back of his chair, tracing the delicate rim of his cup with his fingertips. A subtle smile yed on his lips as he observed the sole heir of the illustrious Malfoy family, known for their unwavering support of pure-blood superiority. His tone carried a touch of frivolity, bordering on rudeness.

    "Well then, Malfoy, I am intrigued to know the purpose behind your visit, which necessitated the involvement of Professor Snape," Bryan remarked, his words draped in a domineering undertone. Having spent a considerable amount of time in Slytherin House, he had learned how to navigate interactions with the descendants of prestigious pure-blood families. A polite demeanor wouldn''t earn their approval; it was respect that held true significance.

    Under the weight of Bryan''s powerful presence, Malfoy''s previous arrogance and contempt vanished entirely. Just as Neville stood meekly in front of Professor Snape, Malfoy dared not act rashly and remained obedient.

    "It is indeed about the ''Enhanced Levitation Charm'' that you demonstrated in Defense Against the Dark Arts ss, Professor Watson. I am seeking your guidance in mastering the intricacies of the spell. Although I attempted it in private, I still struggle to unravel its secrets," Malfoy confessed, his gaze shifting anxiously.

    Bryan blinked, taken aback by Malfoy''s unexpected response. He lightly tapped his desk, allowing a momentary pause before he responded. With unwavering focus, he maintained eye contact with Malfoy, his interest piqued, until the young wizard was overwhelmed by the lingering pressure. Just as Malfoy was on the verge of making a hasty retreat, Bryan''s smile softened, and he spoke.

    "And what, Mr. Malfoy, is the true purpose behind this ? Is it a genuine thirst for knowledge or merely a means to prove yourself equal to a ''Mudblood'' such as Miss Granger?" Bryan''s words carried a subtle darkness, probing beneath the surface.

    Malfoy''s expression grew gloomy. He couldn''t openly admit that thetter was his true motive in front of Professor Watson. He knew that uttering such words would likely result in being swiftly expelled from the office.

    "It seems you have discerned where the true problem lies, Mr. Malfoy," Bryan remarked, standing up with a disarming smile. His demeanor shifted back to its usual kind and friendly state, as if the dominant and overpowering wizard from moments ago had been reced by someone entirely different.

    Casually strolling to the center of the office, Bryan snapped his fingers, summoning a stone pir resembling the one used during the Daytime Defense Against the Dark Arts ss. "Come here, Mr. Malfoy. Let me witness your strength."

    For nearly two hours, Bryan guided Malfoy, paying meticulous attention to detail. He patiently corrected the young wizard''s casting gestures and taught him the intricacies of coordinating magical power while reciting the spell. However, despite their efforts, Malfoy couldn''t fully grasp the ''Upgraded Charm'' that Bryan had effortlessly wielded during his second semester in his first year.

    This was an inevitable oue, as Bryan had exined to Hermione in ss. The spell required a level of magical power and control that wascking in junior wizards. It was a limitation that couldn''t be ovee. Not everyone possessed Bryan''s exceptional magical power or the formidable spiritual power resulting from the fusion of two souls.

    Nevertheless, Malfoy appeared rtively satisfied with his progress. A hint ofcency adorned the corner of his mouth as he observed the gravel scattered by the feathers he controlled.

    "Thank you for your invaluable guidance, Professor!" Malfoy, now standing at the door, expressed sincere gratitude.

    "Before you depart, I have onest piece of advice for you," Bryan said, returning to his desk and casting a meaningful nce at the door. "Throughout your journey, there is but one adversary you must ovee, Mr. Malfoy, and that is your own arrogance."

    The pleasant weather that had graced Hogwarts for many days finally gave way to a rainy Saturday morning. As the rain pattered down, the castle stood tall, emanating a damp and biting cold reminiscent of the previous month. From a distance, Hogwarts Castle majestically overlooked the snow-capped peaks and the sprawling forest.

    While passing the Quidditch pitch, Bryan was surprised to witness a few brave young wizards d in Gryffindor uniforms braving the wind and rain on their broomsticks. Shaking his head in disbelief, he muttered to himself.

    "Poor Flint, he will need assistance from both Merlin and God to secure victory in this year''s final," Bryan remarked, watching the courageous yers battle against the elements.

    Upon arriving at the cabin nestled within the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid could be found at the back of the house. He hummed softly, his attention fixated on bandaging the injured hoof of a magical creature. Hisrge, furry face disyed a gentle expression.

    Continuing on his way, Bryan arrived at Hagrid''s cabin in the depths of the Forbidden Forest. There, he found Hagrid humming softly, tenderly tending to an animal with a wounded hoof. Hagrid''srge, furry face expressed an unmistakable care.

    "These Hippogriffs aren''t the friendliest creatures, Hagrid," Bryanmented, observing Hagrid''s gentle touch.

    "Oh, they''re alright once you get the hang of ''em. They ain''t difficult to deal with," Hagrid replied, engrossed in tending to the injured Hippogriff''s wing. He didn''t immediately realize who was addressing him. "This little fe here''s almost an adult. In the fight for mating rights, it had a tough battle with itspanions and ended up with wounds all over. Can''t just ignore ''em, else they''ll fester and ooze pus!"

    Most magical creatures possessed sharper instincts than wizards. As Bryan observed the scene with great interest, the Hippogriff with its cor and the hippocampus motif seemed to sense the danger emanating from the young wizard and eagerly sought to break free from Hagrid''s grasp.

    "Don''t worry, Buckbeak. I won''t harm you. Could you please hand me the scissors?" Bryan assured the restless creature, extending a helping hand.

    Hagrid''s massive hand gently held Buckbeak''s neck, preventing the Hippogriff from escaping. The creature struggled vigorously, but Hagrid''s grip remained firm and unyielding.

    "Thank you," Bryan said politely as Hagrid handed him the scissors, his eyes gleaming with admiration. Dumbledore had been right¡ªHagrid, with his giant heritage, possessed a brilliance that surpassed ordinary people.

    The moment Hagrid released his grip, Buckbeak darted away like an arrow, disappearing into the depths of the Forbidden Forest without a backward

    nce. Hagrid''s face beamed with happiness, witnessing the spirited nature of the Hippogriff.

    "Looks like you''re in good spirits, Buckbeak, myd. I hope this experience won''t make you afraid to pursue love. Uh, ahem! Oh, Professor Watson!" Hagrid finally smiled, his gaze shifting from Buckbeak to Bryan. Initially surprised by the visitor, his smile soon transformed into an awkward but polite expression. "So it''s you, Professor Bryan. What brings you here? I mean, what can I do for ya?"

    Bryan returned Hagrid''s smile and nodded appreciatively. Dumbledore had indeed been right about the humble gamekeeper''s genuine kindness.

    /ficfrenzy

 052 Aragog

    052 Aragog

    Hagrid''s heart pounded in his chest as he confronted the daunting reality of the Ministry of Magic''s investigators. They possessed the authority to banish him back to Azkaban, the dreaded wizarding prison that still haunted his nightmares from his previous two-month confinement there. The mere thought sent a chill down his spine, and he couldn''t shake the fear that lingered within him.

    But it wasn''t just the Ministry''s investigators that troubled Hagrid. Bryan Watson, the board of governors'' investigator, also loomed over him, holding the power to expel him from Hogwarts, the very school that had be his cherished home. While Hagrid took sce in the knowledge that Headmaster Dumbledore would undoubtedly defend him, the situation remained immensely vexing and filled him with immense stress.

    As Hagrid and Watson ventured deeper into the Forbidden Forest, an aura of foreboding enveloped them. The thick canopy of ancient trees blocked out most of the sunlight, casting eerie shadows that danced upon the forest floor. The air grew damp and heavy, carrying the musty scent of decaying leaves. Strange noises filled the silence, whispers of unseen creatures that sent shivers down their spines. In the dimness, Watson found it necessary to cast a lumos spell, the soft glow emanating from his wand illuminating their path through the gloom.

    The forest remained eerily quiet, save for the asional snap of branches and the gentle patter of raindrops upon leaves. Hagrid''s familiarity with the terrain became evident as he expertly maneuvered through thebyrinthine maze of ancient trees. Leaping down from a nted tree trunk, he turned to Watson, his panting breaths punctuating the silence.

    "Over here, Professor Watson," Hagrid called out, his weathered hand gesturing towards a hidden path.

    They continued their arduous trek for another ten minutes, their footsteps sinking into the thickyer of dposing leaves that carpeted the forest floor. The ground seemed to swallow their feet with each step, as if the forest itself sought to impede their progress.

    Hagrid couldn''t help but voice his growing skepticism. "I reckon it''s all a wild goose chase, Professor. I''ve tried countless times to get him to talk, but he refuses. All he ever says is that the monster within the castle is an ancient and fearsome creature, a natural enemy of spiders. He won''t divulge any further information, and I doubt he''ll confide in anyone else either."

    Watson, determined to press on, dismissed Hagrid''s doubts with a resolute tone. "Let us at least make the attempt, Hagrid."

    Watson''s movements were marked by a grace that contrasted with Hagrid''s lumbering gait. He had cast a weight-reducing spell upon himself, allowing him to navigate the treacherous terrain with an almost ethereal lightness.

    Concern etched deep lines into Hagrid''s face as he watched Watson. "You best be prepared, Professor Watson. Aragog has be increasingly irritable in his old age, his movements restricted. I can''t guarantee I''ll be able to calm him down."

    "That is a worry for another time, Hagrid. Sometimes," Watson replied cryptically, his voice carrying an air of hidden knowledge.

    As they ventured deeper into the heart of the Forbidden Forest, the density of the trees began to thin, revealing glimpses of a downward slopingndscape. Shadows,rge and imposing, moved stealthily amidst the thickets of bushes entangled with thorny vines. Watson knew they were drawing closer to their destination.

    Coming to a halt at the precipice of a crater-like depression, Watson raised his wand, its luminous glow prating the darkness below. The vast pit housed sparse, gnarled trees, but its true inhabitantsy hidden within¡ªa teeming mass of hundreds, if not thousands, of spiders. These were no ordinary arachnids; each one matched the size of the eight-eyed spider that had crossed Watson''s path before.

    As Watson''s presence was detected, the once-silent depression erupted into a symphony of crackling sounds that reverberated through the forest, disturbing its tranquil silence. "Who dares to disturb my slumber?" boomed a voice that seemed to shake the very ground. Emerging from a misty, hemispherical spider web at the center of the depression, a spider of gargantuan proportions slowly crawled forward. Its immense ck body bore traces of gray, giving it an air of otherworldly menace. The eyes on its grotesque head, equipped with formidable ws, were clouded by a milky film, rendering its vision impaired.

    "Is it Hagrid?" the spider''s screeching voice sliced through the air, reminiscent of nails on a chalkboard. Crackling crackling crackling! A chorus of spiders responded in their unique, rustlingnguage, their movements filled with anticipation.

    "Oh, I see. A stranger has ventured into my domain. My apologies," Aragog swiftly retracted its threatening ws, conveying a semnce of understanding.

    "Children, what are you waiting for?" Aragog''s voice resonated,manding the restless spiders surrounding Watson and Hagrid. They teetered on the edge of the pit, their thin legs vibrating with anticipation, ready to obey the slightestmand.

    A disheveled Hagrid, finally catching up, gasped for breath. "Wait, Aragog, wait! It''s me, Hagrid. I''ve returned."

    The aged spider, recognizing the familiar voice, halted its trembling ws. A touch of warmth infused its harsh tone. "Oh, my apologies, Hagrid. I mistook your arrival for an intrusion into my realm. So, have you spoken to those centaurs, as I requested? If they continue to disregard the safety of my offspring, Hagrid, I will be left with no choice but to retaliate."

    "Actually Aragog I heard somethingpletely different from the centaurs they think well I''ll go ask them again for you Aragog I have something else to ask you today."

    Hagrid was like the keeper of the order of this Forbidden Forest. Every intelligent magical creature, whether they liked wizards or not, maintained the most basic respect for Hagrid.

    As Watson took a few cautious steps forward, the air in the Forbidden Forest seemed to grow tense, as if every living creature held its breath in anticipation. The ancient trees, their gnarled branches intertwined like guardians of the forest, cast eerie shadows that danced on the forest floor.

    The smaller spiders, sensing the shift in atmosphere, remained agitated in their pit, their thin legs skittering across the ground, creating a haunting chorus of rustling noises.

    Aragog, with his immense form, was an intimidating sight to behold. His eight eyes, covered with a milky film, glistened with a mix of curiosity and suspicion as they locked onto Watson''s direction. His fangs wererge and menacing, a constant reminder of the potential danger that lurked within the Forbidden Forest.

    "Hagrid!" Aragog''s voice echoed, resonating with a mix of anger and concern. "Did you bring someone else with you? You promised me you wouldn''t do that!"

    It seemed that this old spider was not so easy tomunicate with. Watson thought to himself, standing on the side and watching Hagrid talk to it.

    Hagrid, the keeper of the order in the Forbidden Forest, stood steadfast despite the spider''s hostility. Hisrge, bearded face carried a mixture of respect and understanding, knowing that dealing with Aragog required patience and tact.

    "Professor Watson is also the investigator sent by the Hogwarts board of governors to investigate the Chamber of Secrets," Hagrid exined. "He insisted on talking to you face to face, Aragog. I hope you can grant him that."

    Upon hearing the mention of the Chamber of Secrets, Aragog''s demeanor shifted drastically. Excitement coursed through him, causing a ripple of anxious movements among the surrounding spiders. They stayed a few dozen feet away, their presence more ominous than ever, ready to rush forward at a moment''smand.

    "I''ve said it many times, Hagrid. We''re afraid of that monster," Aragog dered vehemently. "We never mention the name of that ancient creature to outsiders. If too many wizards know about it, they will covet its power and use it to destroy us!"

    Watson couldn''t help but be intrigued by Aragog''s logic, finding it strangelypelling amidst the dangers that surrounded them. He exchanged a knowing look with Hagrid, who seemed resigned yet hopeful, knowing that Watson''s knowledge and expertise might just be the key to resolving this delicate situation.

    "Don''t give up so easily, Hagrid," Watson said reassuringly, drawing on his vast knowledge of magical creatures and their intricacies. With confidence, he took two more steps forward, and said in a rxed tone.

    "Let me try to talk to him."

    /ficfrenzy

 053 Bryanâ€™s Temper

    053 Bryan¡¯s Temper

    "Hello, Aragog," Bryan said politely as he approached the giant spider with Hagrid by his side. "My name is Bryan Watson. As Hagrid said, I am a professor at Hogwarts, and also serving as¡ª"

    "Leave my territory, stranger! Leave at once! I have nothing to say to you!" Aragog roared, interrupting Bryan''s words with a swipe of his huge w that sent a st of air towards them. His voice was deep and raspy, like two boulders rubbing against each other. His fur was matted and dirty, and his legs were covered with scars and wounds. His one good eye red at them with a mixture of anger and fear. He was the king of this dark forest, and he did not tolerate any intruders.

    "For Hagrid''s sake, I will spare your life if you go now!"

    The horde of smaller spiders that surrounded them tensed up at Aragog''s words. They crawled closer to their prey, digging their sharp legs into the soil nervously. Their greenpound eyes glittered with hunger and malice in the dim light. Their jaws snapped and opened, as if they were already tasting the flesh and blood of the frail humans near Hagrid.

    Bryan felt a chill run down his spine as he looked at the restless spiders. His face lost its usual smile and became serious. He wore a dark cloak that contrasted with his fair skin and blond hair. He held a wand in his hand, ready to use it if necessary. He had a rare chance to learn the truth, and he was not going to give up so easily.

    "Go back, Professor Watson,"

    Hagrid pleaded, his eyes wide with worry. "Aragog and his kin don''t like strangers, and I haven''t brought anyone here for years. It''s too risky!" Hagrid was a half-giant with arge beard and a shaggy coat. He towered over Bryan, but he was gentle and loyal to his friends. He had raised Aragog from an egg, and he still cared for him despite his hostility.

    "I respect you, Hagrid¡ª"

    Aragog moved around in therge web that covered the crater like a dome. He made a hissing sound that echoed in the air. "My sons and daughters obey me and do not harm you, but I cannot stop them from craving the fresh human meat that you have brought to them. Hagrid, if your friend does not leave, you will have to return to the castle alone!" "Come on, Professor Watson, you won''t get any useful information from him!"

    The situation was getting worse by the minute. Hagrid urged Bryan to leave, but Bryan ignored him. He kept his gaze fixed on Aragog, who stared back at him with his one good eye.

    The ''little spiders'' were closing in. Hagrid could not stand it any longer. He rushed to Bryan''s side and reached out to grab his arm. But as soon as his fingers touched the wizard''s robe, the vortex in Bryan''s eyes began to spin!

    The raindrops that fell from the dark sky turned into frozen pearls. They seemed to defy gravity and hung in mid-air, motionless.

    The dead leaves that had been blown away by the shock bounced back into the air with a slow but steady force as soon as they hit the ground. The fine raindrops that had been scattered by them traced their spiral paths clearly. This amazing and magical scene was imprinted in Hagrid''s eyes. He forgot for a moment that he was paralyzed.

    A breeze stirred. The sound of rain faded away. Time seemed to stand still. And space was like amber that was about to harden.

    All the noises ceased. And the spiders stopped moving their ws. Only theirpound eyes quivered slightly with extreme fear, showing that they were still alive.

    Bryan cautiously brushed away the brittle leaves that carpeted the ground in front of him. He navigated around clusters of thorny bushes that tore at his skin. He evaded the webs of the tiny spiders that attempted to ensnare him. He descended the steep steps that led to the bottom of the pit. And finally, he confronted the ancient spider with a milky eye that was the lord of this dark realm.

    "Then."

    Bryan lifted his arm and pressed his wand firmly against Aragog''s massive head. His eyes were cold and stern. And his quiet voice carried a thunderous authority.

    "It seems that for your sake as Hagrid''s friend, I will give you a chance to tell the truth."

    The wind howled. And Aragog felt a surge of pain in his old body. But he still remained silent. And in his mouthparts, worn out by time and decay, the sharp teeth ttered against each other. As if they were ready to strike.

    "I can''t."

    Aragog uttered a trembling voice, "That''s the fear hidden in the blood, we can''t resist it." "It''s so difficult -"

    Bryan rubbed his wet hair in frustration,

    "If you insist on not saying anything, Aragog, I can only go to your mind to find it myself. To be honest, I don''t want to do that. It may harm your health."

    "No, no"

    Hagrid on the edge of the crater blinked his eyes desperately after hearing this, and he struggled hard, but this kind of confinement of the magical power in his body was just like the curse of petrification suffered by Colin Creevey and Justin Fletchley. It could not be ovee by personal willpower, no matter how strong Hagrid was. He could only watch Bryan''s wand glow again with a menacing light!

    "Bryan."

    Just when Hagrid thought Aragog was doomed to die, a voice full of wisdom andpassion sounded behind Hagrid, and before he could react, a beam of silver light soared over his body with a bang, appearing above the head of Bryan who was about to strike.The silver phoenix pped its wings gracefully, and sprinkled a shower of starry sparks around the gloomy ce.

    "It''s foolish to save some lives while destroying others, Bryan, let this poor spider go, it has suffered enough." The magic power around was still frozen, but the silver Patronus carrying Dumbledore''s spirit and will seemed to bepletely unaffected. It hovered calmly in mid-air and looked at Bryan with a gentle gaze.

    A tense silence filled the cold air. This was a silent confrontation, and it was clear who had the upper hand.

    "I''m sorry, Hagrid, I may have done some rude things to your friends in the Forbidden Forest, I hope you can forgive me¨C"

    In front of the wooden house, Bryan''s tone was filled with regret ,"I don''t know why, but in the past two years, I have developed a bad habit. When others are rude to me, it is difficult for me to control my temper."

    "It''s not your fault, Professor Watson Aragog really has a bad temper."

    His face was pale, and Hagrid said with a ''smile'' like he had just survived a near-death experience.

    The sky was a dull gray, and a light drizzle fell from the clouds. Bryan could barely tell what time it was by looking at the sunless horizon. He had taken shelter under the wooden eaves of the Quidditch stands, where he was shivering and nibbling on a sandwich that the Gryffindor team had left for him. They had woken him up from his nap earlier, telling him it was lunch time.

    "Professor Watson!"

    As he strode across the courtyard from Hagrid''s hut to the castle, he heard someone call out his name. He turned and saw Hermione Granger waving at him. She had a wand in her hand, and she was using it to dry Harry Potter''s hair, which was dripping wet and stuck to his forehead. She looked delighted to see him, but her eagerness nearly caused a mishap when the sparks from her wand flew too close to Harry''s eyebrows.

    "Ah, Miss Granger."

    Bryan greeted her with a smile, but he felt a twinge of annoyance. He had been looking forward to meeting someone else, not her. He wondered what she wanted from him this time.

    "Where did you go this morning? I went to your office, but you were not there. I wanted to ask you, is it still time to write a reply letter for Professor Lockhart tomorrow?"

    ''Write a letter for Professor Lockhart? ''Bryan felt a surge of irritation. He hadpletely forgotten about that ridiculous assignment. He had been too busy exploring the secrets hidden in Lockhart''s officest weekend, and he had no interest in writing fan letters for the pompous fraud. But he knew that Hermione was a big fan of Lockhart, and he did not want to disappoint her.

    "Sorry, I had some business with Hagrid this morning. It''s still time, Miss Granger."

    Bryan nodded, and then he looked at Ron Weasley, who was standing under the roof with a disgusted expression on his face. He clearly did not share Hermione''s admiration for Lockhart. Next to him was Harry Potter, who looked curious about Bryan''s visit to Hagrid. Bryan gave them a wink, and a mysterious smile.

    "You might want to bring some help, Miss Granger. It''s not easy for the two of us to handle all those letters. It''s quite exhausting."

 054 Professorâ€™s Discussion

    054 Professor¡¯s Discussion

    "Bring some help."

    Hermione''s voice was tinged with a hint of uncertainty, as if she was not sure whether she was doing the right thing. She knew that sharing this ''glory'' with others was not what Professor Lockhart had in mind, but she also felt overwhelmed by the task of opening his private letters without his permission. How could he expect her to handle such a huge amount of fan mail by herself? It was not fair, nor respectful, to his admirers.

    She nced at Harry and Ron, hoping they would agree to help her, but they seemed to have no intention of volunteering. Harry was busy fiddling with his broken sses, pretending they needed urgent repair. Ron was suddenly fascinated by an old-fashioned broomstick that had lost most of its twigs, acting as if he had never seen one before. Neither of them met Hermione''s eyes, which were pleading for their support. The rest of the Gryffindor team watched the scene with amusement, trying not tough out loud. Fred and George had the most exaggerated expressions on their faces, ready to crack a joke at any moment, but they were silenced by Professor Watson''s stern nce. The Weasley twins knew better than anyone that the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was not someone to mess with.

    "If they don''t want to, forget it¨C"

    Bryan gave Hermione a sympathetic smile, and then walked away from the scene.

    "You two, you must go to Professor Lockhart''s office with me tomorrow, or you will never try to learn from my homework again!"

    "Leave us alone, Hermione, I don''t want to touch this stuff in my life again." Ron groaned. "I''d rather clean the trophy room for Filch again."

    Bryan, who had already walked dozens of feet away, could vaguely hear Hermione''s angry voice mixed with the strong wind, and the wailing of the two reluctant wizards.

    On the four long tables in the auditorium, there were some young wizards sitting sparsely. They were enjoying their dinner, chatting with their friends, or doing somest-minute homework. On the other side of Slytherin, Malfoy was proudly showing Pansy and Daphne his newly learned spells. He waved his wand and made sparks fly out of it, making them giggle and p.

    On the Hufflepuff side, Cedric, a fourth-year student, walked shoulder to shoulder with a few of his friends and headed towards the foyer. He had just finished his Quidditch practice and was feeling confident and happy. When he passed behind the third-year Chinese girl in Ravenw, he quietly slipped a note into her pocket. This was the third love letter he had sent her this semester.

    Cho Chang didn''t seem to notice it, and continued to chat andugh with Marietta, her best friend. But ording to Bryan''s experience in dating in his previous life, this girl whose cheeks were gradually turning pink was probably not far from falling head over heels for Cedric.

    "Do you have to do this, Professor Watson?"

    Professor McGonagall''splexion was much better than during the Christmas holidays. She looked more rxed and cheerful than before. There were two reasons for this: first, because the heir of Szar Slytherin had not made any more attacks since Bryan entered the school. The atmosphere of fear and suspicion that had pervaded Hogwarts had lifted a bit. Second, because Headmaster Dumbledore had spent much more time in his office this semester than before. He ''seemed'' to be working on something important. His presence gave McGonagall a lot of sense of security.

    Bryan, who had just sat down at the staff table, pursed his lips and showed a wry smile. He knew that when Professor McGonagall called him by hisst name, it meant that she had some objections to his actions.

    "To be honest, Bryan, you are probably the most decent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts in the past ten years." She said earnestly. "ording to what you did in the previous ss, you introduced the experience of fighting against evil to young wizards. You taught them useful skills and practical knowledge that they can apply in real situations. You also made them interested and curious about your subject. Why do you want to change your teaching method now?"

    Professor Flitwick stood up from his chair with great interest. He was eager to join the conversation. He said,

    "That''s a very good question, Minerva! I also want to know how and why Bryan decided to create such an interesting new spell!" He looked at Bryan with admiration and suggested seriously,

    "After resigning from the position of professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Bryan, I think you can offer a separate course on spell model structure optimization at Hogwarts. You can incorporate it into the charm ss improvement course. I bet that the little wizards will be eager to join your ss, Bryan! Your spell is a masterpiece of magic that only true geniuses can create!"

    No problem, Professor Flitwick, when Dumbledore ''crosses the river Styx'', I''ll go back to Hogwarts to retire immediately! Bryan smiled and agreed. He saw that Professor McGonagall wanted to continue the topic just now, so he quickly turned to greet the professor who was sitting on the farthest side with big sses and countless chains and beads around his neck.

    "What wind blows you down from the tower, Professor Trwney?"

    "Hic¡ª"

    Professor Trwney with messy hair hupped and looked at Bryan in a daze ,"The approaching darkness blurred my celestial eyes, Bryan, when did youe back to school?"

    " The truth of the matter is¡ª"

    Professor Flitwick whispered in Bryan''s ear. He muttered, "Sybil''s stash of sherry upstairs is finished!"

    "Oh, keep your voice down, Professor Flitwick!"

    Bryan''s face was tense, looking very nervous, "I don''t want to be predicted that something bad will happen again!"

    When Harry and his two friends, who had to return to the castle due to the sudden and rapid wind and rain, were about to go to the auditorium to replenish some energy, what they saw was a hrious scene at the staff dining table. Professor Flitwick hadughed so hard that he fell from his stool, and Professor McGonagall, whose cheeks were flushed, lips tightly pressed, and body twitching, was trying to suppress herughter. And Professor Watson was standing in front of a professor they hadn''t seen much, with his hands folded and his face apologetic.

    "What do you two think they were talking about just now?" Hermione asked with a thoughtful expression after walking into the cozy lounge.

    "It doesn''t matter, Hermione¡ª"

    Harry said listlessly after getting up early in the morning and battling the freezing rain all morning, "I just want to go back to my warm bed and sleep until Monday. Get up again after Professor Watson''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss in the afternoon."

    After saying these words, Harry left Hermione and Ron and wandered towards the dormitory. The rainy weather was indeed annoying, but for those who had time to take a leisurely nap in bed, it was really the best weather. On Saturday afternoon, Harry took a rare and hearty nap, enjoying the sound of raindrops hitting the window and the roof. During this period, Ron seemed toe over and call him, but Harry just muttered something, changed his position, and fell asleep again, ignoring his friend''s attempts to wake him up.

    By the time he rubbed his sleepy eyes and sat up from the bed, the cloud covering the castle hadpletely dissipated, and Hogwarts had already been bathed in the bright moonlight. The stars were twinkling in the sky, and Harry could see the silhouette of the Forbidden Forest in the distance.

    There was no one in the dark dormitory, and if Harry guessed correctly, Ron and Seamus should all be ying Wizard Chess or Gobstone in the lounge below. He could hear theirughter and shouts faintly from upstairs.

    Hermione, on the other hand, was either reading and previewing in the library, or doing homework in the lounge. She was always diligent and studious, unlike Harry who often procrastinated.

    "Why didn''t anyone wake me up for dinner?"

    Harry, who was sitting dizzy on the bed,ined in a low voice while getting dressed. He felt a pang of hunger in his stomach. He knew that Ron had probably already been here but he couldn''t wake him up. He wondered if there was any food left in the kitchen.

    The air was filled with a slight rotten smell of sweat. The source of the smell was Harry''s football jersey which he had taken off after ying Quidditch in the morning. It was soaked with rainwater and mud. He threw the jersey into the rack. He walked slowly to the desk and opened the window. A cool breeze blew into his face. He breathed deeply and tried to disperse the smell.

    The breeze from the ck Lake gradually brought Harry''s bewildered eyes into focus. He sat down and stared at the more than half-written History of Magic essay spread out on the table. It was about the goblin rebellions of the 17th century. Harry had no interest in it at all.

    The angels representing conscience andziness were torn apart in Harry''s mind for two minutes. In the end,ziness once again stood on the corpse of conscience, dering his victory.

    "Maybe Hermione can give me some good advice¡ª"

    Harry muttered, closing the parchment, folding it, and stuffing it into his schoolbag, which had lived in his schoolbag for a few days under the dim light The ck notebook was exuding mysterious magic power. Harry stared at the ck notebook silently. At some point in a daze, his hand reached for the pen again.

    He felt a strange attraction to the notebook, as if it was calling him to write something on it. He wondered what would happen if he did.

    /FicFrenzy

 055 Testing

    055 Testing

    If possible, Harry would rather never discover the correct way to read the notebook in his school bag, so that he would not have to face the headaches thaty before him.

    "Riddle may have found the wrong person."

    Many times, Hermione''s expression is surprisingly simr to that of Professor McGonagall, or it can be said that the two of them are also the same type of Gryffindor. For example, now, Hermione pursed her lips tightly, forming a thin line on her face. It looked very much like Professor McGonagall''s expression in Transfiguration ss when she saw Seamus blow up his feather for the umpteenth time, or Neville injure himself with his own wand in a clumsy attempt to cast a spell.

    "Or maybe it was some other monster that attacked the students," Hermione continued, clinging to herst shred of doubt. "How many monsters do you reckon this ce can hold, Hermione?" Ron asked sarcastically, sounding exhausted and frustrated. He slumped on the couch in the Gryffindormon room, his red hair sticking out in all directions. He had no patience for Hermione''s feeble excuses for Hagrid, even though he understood her loyalty to their friend.

    Hermione''s feeling of trying to defend Hagrid waspletely understandable, but perhaps even she herself couldn''t believe the flimsy excuses she came up with. She looked at Harry and Ron with a pleading expression, hoping they would agree with her.

    "I should have thought that this would have something to do with Hagrid," Harry said, staring at the crackling firece, with a mncholy look on his face. He remembered the warm and friendly half-giant who had brought him to Hogwarts and taught him about the wizarding world. "Remember, Ron, during the Christmas holidays, when Hagrid knew that Professor Watson was returning to school as the investigator of the Chamber of Secrets, I felt something was wrong¡­ but I thought Hagrid just knew some secrets about the Chamber of Secrets."

    All three fell silent, and after a long silence, Hermione still asked the most difficult question. "Do you think we can ask about these things? Ask Hagrid?"

    "That must be a pleasant visit," said Ron, curling his lips in a mock smile. "What should we ask, Hermione? Should we say to Hagrid - hello, Hagrid, tell us, did you release some big, savage, hairy monster from the castlest semester?" He imitated Hagrid''s booming voice and ent, making Harry and Hermione wince.

    There was another oppressive silence, but this time, it was Harry who broke the silence. "At noon today, Professor Watson said he went to visit Hagrid, but as far as I know, there is no good friendship between the two of them." He recalled how Professor Watson had looked at Hagrid with suspicion and scrutiny during their brief encounter.

    "But the fact is that Professor Watson didn''t arrest Hagrid, did he?" Hermione said, frowning and analyzing. "He kept Hagrid at Hogwarts. If Hagrid really¨C"

    "Dumbledore is a great and kind man, Hermione. We all know that!" Ron interrupted her impatiently. Facing the iron truth, Hermione''s feeble insistence distressed Ron. He said emphatically. "No one thinks that fifty years ago, Hagrid murdered that hapless girl on purpose. But the problem is, sometimes he just can''t figure out those big, hairy things are dangerous monsters!"

    They argued back and forth for a while longer, The discussion on this issue did not reach a clear conclusion.

    Hermione thought that since Professor Watson may have known that Hagrid was rted to the Chamber of Secrets case fifty years ago, he might as well give the notebook to Professor Watson. Maybe he could confront Riddle with the contents of the notebook.

    But this proposal was undoubtedly strongly opposed by Harry. And Hermione couldn''t refute the reason he said.

    "I would never give the notebook to Professor Watson, Hermione," Harry said with an annoyed look on his face. "Think about it. If Professor Watson didn''t know about it, it would be like us handing Hagrid over to the wizard prison that Malfoy talked about. Do you want me to spend the rest of my life repenting for this matter, Hermione?"

    The issue ofst week''s letter was still unresolved, so Bryan had to go to Professor Lockhart''s office again on Sunday afternoon. He arrived there at one o''clock, an hour earlier than the others, hoping to finish the tedious task as soon as possible. He unlocked the door with his wand and pushed it open, only to be greeted by a flood of white paper that poured out from the inside like a waterfall. He barely managed to dodge the avnche, but he still got buried under a pile of letters that covered his entire body. He struggled to get out, coughing and sneezing from the dust that filled the air. He looked around and saw that the whole office was a mess, with no space to walk or sit. The letters were everywhere, on the floor, on the desk, on the shelves, even on the ceiling.

    "This is impossible, I have to find another ce, everyone!"

    Bryan shouted in frustration, looking at Hermione who had just arrived and was staring at him in disbelief. Behind her, he saw Harry and Ron, who had curious and amused expressions on their faces.

    In the end, Bryan had no choice but to offer his own office as a temporary workspace.

    Hermione and Harry had been to Professor Watson''s office before, but this was Ron''s first time. He was fascinated by everything he saw there, especially the wall that was hidden behind a curtain. He knew that it was a magical device that could monitor the whole school, and he wanted to see it for himself.

    "This is it, right?"

    Ron whispered to Harry, pointing at the curtain with awe and excitement. He waited for Harry to confirm, but before he could say anything, Hermione gave him a stern look and stopped him from talking.

    Bryan noticed their interest and smiled. He decided to show them his secret invention, since they already knew about it anyway. He waved his wand and pulled back the curtain, revealing the wall that disyed a live view of Hogwarts from different angles.

    "I don''t need to hide it from you three, you have already figured out what I do here, haven''t you?"

    He said with a friendly tone, making them feel morefortable. The three of Harryughed shyly, and then, with the permission of Professor Brian, the three of them looked up at ''Hogwarts on the Wall''. He told them that he used aplex transfiguration spell to create miniature mirrors that could reflect around the school and capture images. He then used another spell to project them onto the wall in real time.

    The three of them were amazed by his skill and creativity. They watched the scenes on the wall with great interest, trying to spot familiar faces or ces. Harry and Ron were just enjoying the show, but Hermione was more attentive and observant. She noticed some details that revealed how advanced and difficult the spell was.

    "Such a profound transfiguration spell, I don''t think I will ever be able to learn it or use it in my life."

    She said with a sigh of admiration and disappointment at the end of their visit.

    "Don''t underestimate yourself, Miss Granger, you have a high talent in transfiguration magic. As long as you keep this humble learning attitude, one day you will master this spell without any trouble!"

    Bryan encouraged her with sincere praise. He saw her blush from his words, even her ears turned red.

    He then closed the curtain again and turned his attention to the task at hand. He had to help Lockhart write letters to his fans, which was boring and painful enough for one person, let alone four. He used his wand to control several pieces of paper at once, making them float in front of him. He let a quill pen write his signature and some genericpliments on each letter, while he read a manuscript of his new book with relish.

    Harry and Ron watched him with envy and resentment. They wished they could do the same thing, but they didn''t dare to copy him.

    Time passed slowly as they worked on the letters. The sun set behind the horizon, casting long shadows on the ground.

    When it was time for dinner, Bryan made an excuse of going downstairs to get some food for them and slipped out for a while. But when he came back, he found that there were still many letters left on his desk. He looked at Hermione who was sitting there with an annoyed expression on her face. She red at Harry and Ron who were pretending to be busy with their letters. Bryan smiled knowingly, guessing what had happened.

    "Take a break,dies and gentlemen, there is no need to rush."

    He said with a gentle voice, trying to ease the tension. He then started a casual conversation with them, hoping to make them feel more rxed andfortable. He didn''t act like a professor or an investigator, but more like a senior student who was friendly and helpful. He made themugh with some jokes and stories, and listened to their opinions and questions. He also gave them some advice and guidance on their studies and future ns.

    Harry felt more at ease with him, and found the courage to ask him something that had been bothering him for a long time.

    "Professor Watson, did you visit Hagrid yesterday morning?"

    He asked casually, as if it was just a random topic in their chat. But he clenched his fists under the table and kept a stiff expression on his face. He hoped that Bryan wouldn''t notice his nervousness or curiosity. He also hoped that Hermione and Ron, who were silent and attentive, wouldn''t give him away.

    But Bryan was not fooled by his act. He saw through his intention and realized that this was not a simple question, but a carefully prepared one.

    >> /ficfrenzy

 056 Differences

    056 Differences

    "A little personal matter¨C" As soon as Bryan uttered these words, he noticed the three young faces in front of him tense up instantly. Hermione, who was sitting on the edge of her seat, desperately winked at Harry, trying to signal him to be careful. Ron, who was slouching on the couch, shifted uneasily and stared at his toes, avoiding eye contact. And Harry, who had been determined to find out the truth about this matter, felt a surge of doubt and hesitation.

    Interesting, what do these three little guys want to find out from me. Bryan wondered with amusement, as he observed their reactions with a keen eye.

    "You three seem to be very curious about the purpose of my visit to Hagrid," he said casually, breaking the silence.

    "That''s right, Professor Watson¨C"

    Harry tried to sound calm and casual, but his voice betrayed a hint of nervousness. He carefully controlled his tone and expression, hoping not to look too suspicious. "Hagrid is our best friend, and you are an investigator ," he said slowly, searching for the right words.

    Bryan nodded sagely, as if he understood everything.

    "You are worried that the matter of the Chamber of Secrets has something to do with Hagrid, so you are worried that I am going to investigate him?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

    Harry''s face turned pale, and Ron''s cheeks flushed red. As for Hermione, she was silent for a moment, biting her lip. Then she cleared her throat and spoke up with a confident tone,

    "Sorry, Professor Watson, I have already told them that this is purely guesswork , He is Principal Dumbledore''s most trusted gamekeeper, he is unlikely to have anything to do with the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets, right?" she said firmly, looking at Bryan with her brown eyes.

    Bryan lowered his eyes and smiled faintly. Miss Granger, you are very clever, but you can''t fool me so easily. You think you can y hard to get in front of me? You need at least thirty more years of experience for that!

    He thought to himself, but he didn''t say anything. He just looked at the three of them with a friendly smile and said lightly,

    "It''s actually like this. Pure theory and practice can''t make you skillful enough to deal with the dangers that maye at any time. So, in the tradition of Defense Against the Dark Arts, I thought it''s necessary to expose you to some truly dangerous creatures."

    He saw that the three of Hermione were listening attentively, their eyes wide and curious. He paused for a moment and shrugged his shoulders casually.

    "There are many interesting magical creatures living in the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts, and Hagrid is one of the people here who knows the Forbidden Forest best. So I asked him to be my guide¨C"

    Phew!

    The three little guys let out a sigh of relief in unison, and their faces rxed visibly.

    Under Bryan''s yful gaze, Harry twisted his body with a shy smile, feeling a cold sweat on his back. He realized that he had been sweating profusely in just a short period of time.

    "By the way, have you prepared anything for us?" Ron asked eagerly, his eyes sparkling. "I know there are hippogriffs and centaurs living there, but Fred and George told me that there are far more interesting things in the woods than that!"

    "Ha!"

    Bryan leaned back on the chair and raised his head slightly. His voice sounded very mysterious and intriguing.

    "This belongs to the category of secrecy, Mr. Weasley. You know, facing the unknown and reacting immediately in times of danger is also very important. I didn''t intend to give you time to prepare in advance. By the way, don''t even think about going back to Hagrid to inquire. I have already told him that he will not reveal even a single word to anyone. In short, you three, wait for the surprise!"

    Professor Watson''s words made their eyes overflow with excitement and curiosity. They couldn''t help but wonder what kind of dark creatures he had prepared for them. Even Hermione couldn''t resist asking him for a hint or a clue. But Bryan ruthlessly refused.

    "I can only tell you that I have prepared three kinds of dark creatures with different levels of danger. And each grade level must deal with one of them. For the rest, you don''t even bother thinking about it!" He said firmly.

    For a long time, Harry and Ron kept asking Bryan various questions, hoping to get some clues or hints about his visit to Hagrid and the dark creatures he had prepared for them. But Bryan smiled and kept silent, enjoying their curiosity and frustration. He let them guess and specte, but he never confirmed or denied anything. In the end, even Hermione gave up on reading Lockhart''s letters and joined the lively discussion.

    The pleasant atmosphere of the conversation made Ron forget about Bryan''s status as a professor and his house affiliation. He looked at Bryan with admiration and wonder, and blurted out,

    "It''s incredible, Professor, how could such a great wizard like youe from Slytherin?"

    The question hung in the air, and Ron immediately regretted asking it. He saw Hermione''s warning eyes and realized that discussing house affiliations could be a sensitive topic, especially in light of recent events. He quickly backtracked, trying to correct himself.

    "I, I mean, we have never seen a Slytherin as friendly and helpful as you, Professor," he stammered, trying to salvage the situation. "We only know those little Slytherin wizards who always talk about pure blood and glory and look down on Muggle-born wizards. But you never mentioned these things. In my opinion, you are more like a Gryffindor!"

    Ron''s awkward attempt atplimenting Bryan made Harry and Hermione nod in agreement, echoing his sentiments. They had also been puzzled by this question since they met him. How could someone like Bryan, who waspassionate and caring, belong to Slytherin, a house associated with cunning and ambition?

    "In fact, sometimes, Slytherin and Gryffindor are very simr."

    Bryan''s t tone made the three of Harry look at each other in dismay. Slytherin and Gryffindor are very simr? What kind of novel theory was that?

    In the eyes of everyone, among the four Hogwarts houses, Slytherin and Gryffindor were the most ipatible ones. This huge difference in values and ideals had already begun when the Four Founders created this magical school thousands of years ago. And even now, the current Chamber of Secrets incident was a trouble derived from this ancient conflict.

    Should I add some trouble to Dumbledore?

    Looking at Harry who was most resistant to what he said in his eyes, Bryan smirked and cleared his throat,

    "ording to Principal Dumbledore''s philosophy, the most powerful and irresistible force in this world is love, because love can give people courage, and courage can give people the strength to face all misfortunes. This idea itself is very much in line with the idea of Godric Gryffindor, the founder of Gryffindor House."

    "Isn''t that correct, Professor Watson?"

    When it came to Dumbledore, Harry immediately became alert and defensive. He wondered if Bryan was going to say something like ''pure blood is noble, mixed blood is despicable'' or ''Dumbledore is a senile old fool''.

    "I can''t say that Gryffindor or Dumbledore''s ideas are problematic or even wrong, but I personally have my own opinion,"

    Bryan shook his head and chuckled,

    "My opinion is that no matter how strong love or hatred is, it cannot make an ordinary person lift a rock that weighs five hundred pounds without using magic.

    Potter, I think power is power, and it''s something so simple that neither love nor hate can make you surpass it. Of course , these two extreme emotions can indeed ignite a person''s determination to pursue power."

    He looked at the three little guys who were lost in thought, trying to understand his words. He turned his head to look out the window, where the starry sky was still shining brightly. The boundless darkness was dotted with countless points of light, creating a mysterious and beautiful scene. From ancient times to the present, that mysterious universe was the shore that countless wizards and Muggles dreamed of conquering.

    He felt a pang of longing in his heart, but he quickly suppressed it. He looked back at them with a light smile,

    "If you have to associate strength and courage with love, I agree that strength can bring people infinite courage to pursue love and freedom."

    "Which one do you think is right, Ron?"

    On the four-poster bed in the dormitory, Harry asked in a low voice. He remembered the loneliness and longing that emanated from Professor Watson''s body as he gazed at the stars.

    "I don''t know, Harry," Ron muttered, turning over,

    "But I think I''m morecking in power than love."

    He yawned and closed his eyes, feeling sleepy after a long day.

    Harryy on his bed too, staring at the ceiling. He couldn''t help but wonder what kind of power Bryan was talking about. Was it magical power? Political power? Personal power? And what did he want to do with it?

    He thought about Dumbledore''s words about love and courage, and how they had inspired him to face many dangers and challenges. He felt a warm feeling in his chest, thinking about his friends who loved him and supported him.

    He didn''t know which one was right, either. Maybe they both had some truth in them. Maybe it depended on the situation and the person.

    He sighed and closed his eyes, hoping to get some rest before the next day. He had a feeling that Bryan''s surprise was going to be something he would never forget.

    /ficfrenzy

 057 Improvement

    057 Improvement

    Harry and his friends had already left, and there was only Bryan left in the office. The candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the wall that swayed with the gentle breeze. He silently watched the monitoring wall, where he could see the movements of the students in the school. He didn''t look away until they returned to their respectivemon rooms, safe and sound.

    The weather in early March was no longer the kind of bone-chilling cold that made him shiver, but the fire in the firece was still so vigorous, as if it wanted to warm up the whole castle. The room was slightly hot, and Bryan felt sweat on his forehead. He walked to the window and opened it, letting in some fresh air. His eyes wandered aimlessly over the darkndscape. He didn''t know why, but he suddenly felt that this office, which was stillfortable to live in, was so quiet that it made him restless.

    The thousand-year-old castle still stood silently on the hignd, overlooking the vastnd. The nearby forest, which had witnessed countless past glories and brilliance, was now shrouded in darkness. It seemed to hide many secrets and mysteries, some of which were better left undiscovered. As Bryan gazed at the rolling forest, he suddenly thought of Lord Voldemort, who was willing to tear apart his immensely powerful soul for the sake of achieving immortality.

    "Immortality?"

    Bryan chuckled with self-mockery. He knew how absurd and futile that pursuit was. Since the birth of the universe, it had been relentlessly heading towards extinction. Life in the river of time was like a fleeting spark, soon to be extinguished by the endless night. In this vast cosmos, what could stand side by side with eternity?

    For muggles or wizards, the onlypanions throughout their short lives were solitude and death. Bryan convinced himself of this fact. He had no close friends, no family, no love. He only had his ambition and his power.

    He lost interest for a while, Bryan closed the window and turned around, but at the moment he lifted his foot, his figure stopped and his eyebrows suddenly locked. He felt a surge of magic in the air, as if something had disturbed the bnce of nature. In the invisible world of magic, the magic that resides in space and leisurely sways like a sea of clouds is suddenly attracted by some inexplicable force and rushes into Bryan''s body. It is like a dark pit suddenly appearing under the calmke surface, and a whirlpool appears on the water surface.

    Bryan''s handsome face was slightly painful, and his pale purple eyes turned into swirling whirlpools, trying to absorb magic.

    "What are you plotting, Dumbledore?"

    In the headmaster''s office, Snape leaned his hands on the desk, staring at Dumbledore, who was sitting in the armchair with his fingers touching. He tried to use Legilimency on him, hoping to find out what he was hiding behind his calm and gentle facade. But he met with a strong resistance from Dumbledore''s lumency skills. He could not see anything from the abyss-like blue eyes that seemed to know everything.

    "Oh, how interesting, Severus,"

    Dumbledore responded calmly with a smile, "You actually tried to use Legilimency on me, but please forgive my immodesty, even if I grow old and lose my teeth and can''t eat candy anymore, you probably won''t seed."

    "Not only Bryan is suspicious, I am also very curious about this question, Dumbledore!"

    Snape''s cheeks twitched, he slightly retreated his body, his eyes were no longer so rude, but his tone was still gloomy, "ording to my understanding of you, whether it is Bryan monitoring the young wizards in the school, or the things he proposed to let the young wizards deal with in ss, you would not agree.

    But you agreed to them all. Dumbledore, when did you be so tolerant? Last year when Quirrell was in this school, you were more wary of him than Bryan!"

    "Severus, do you want to discuss with me the difference between Quirrell and Bryan?"

    Dumbledore asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

    "You are avoiding the important and dwelling on the trivial, Dumbledore!"

    Snape snapped back angrily, "Your tolerance for Bryan is not your usual style at all. Except for you plotting something, I can''t think of any possibility!"

    Fawkes was very familiar with this kind of quarrel that happened every three to five times. He was sleeping soundly on his perch, and didn''t even open his eyes. He opened his wings full of colorful light and skillfully stuffed his head into his wings. After a light chirp, he continued his sweet dream. He knew that Dumbledore and Snape had aplicated rtionship, and that they often argued but also cared for each other.

    "Severus."

    Dumbledore''s old face moved his silver-white eyebrows and beard, his tone was a bit helpless, he was about to exin something, but suddenly something caught his attention. He felt a surge of magic in the air, as if. He recognized the source of the magic as Bryan, He wondered what he was up to, and decided to take a look. So he closed his mouth and walked quickly to the window under Snape''s puzzled gaze. Through the ss window pane with carved frames, he frowned and stared at the boundless darkness. Silence suddenly fell, and silence enveloped this uniquely styled office. For a while, no one spoke. Snape watched Dumbledore''s back with suspicion and curiosity, wondering what he was doing and what he had found. He felt a bit annoyed that Dumbledore didn''t trust him enough to share his thoughts with him.

    "Amazing"

    After what seemed like ten minutes, Dumbledore''s slightly furrowed brows finally rxed again, and his azure eyes held a hint of lightness. He muttered in a voice only he could hear, "Without a doubt, since the time of the four great founders, over a thousand years, you''re probably the most outstanding student at Hogwarts, Bryan." He saw glimpses of himself, his past and his future, some of which were disturbing and dangerous.

    The turbulent magic returned to calm, and Bryan let out a long breath. When he came to his senses, he noticed that both his woolen shirt and his wizarding robe were soaked through from the brief ten minutes! He felt exhausted but exhrated, as if he had just experienced a breakthrough in his magic.

    "What is this?" Bryan wore a ridiculous smile. "Have I had an enlightenment?"

    For wizards, after the initial magic riot period in their childhood years, the magic in their bodies enters a state of steady growth as they age. Unless they take some potions with great side effects or perform dangerous modifications on their bodies. Ordinary magic supplements can only make your body''s magic increase slightly. And after the effect of the medicine is over, it will be immediately beaten back to its original shape. Perhaps it was because the inheritance of wizards had been interrupted. Or maybe no one had ever summed up the knack for artificially interfering with magic growth.

    In short, every opportunity to achieve a leap in magic growth is rare. Bryan knew this very well. He had spent years studying magic theory and practice, trying to find ways to enhance his magic power and control

    "Could it be that I can''t stand loneliness anymore and really need to find a partner for myself?" Bryan shook his head and smiled as he recalled the rare magic growth process that had just entered because of his mood change. He knew that loneliness was inevitable for someone like him, He didn''t need anyone else to understand him or support him. He didn''t need anyone else to love him or be loved by him. He only needed himself.

    "No, love is a distraction !" Bryan said to himself calmly. He didn''t care about romance or intimacy. He only cared about efficiency and results. He had no time or interest for trivial matters. Suddenly, Bryan''s eyshes moved. He sensed that someone seemed to be peeping at him under the dark curtain. He stared at the dark window outside and looked at where the peeping feeling came from. He saw a pair of blue eyes, shining like stars in the night sky. He recognized them as Dumbledore''s eyes, the eyes of the only wizard he respected and feared. He wondered what Dumbledore had seen , and what he thought of him. He wondered if Dumbledore was his ally or his enemy, his mentor or his rival, his friend or his foe. After a long time, Bryan''s condensed eyes finally thawed. He took out a teapot from the shelf above the firece and held up a cup of steaming tea and saluted outside the window.

    "To the lone wanderer¨C"Bryanughed softly, and then drank the hot tea in the cup He knew that Dumbledore was also a lonely man, a man who had sacrificed much for the greater good, a man who had secrets and regrets, a man who had wisdom and power.

    /ficfrenzy

 058 Unknown

    058 Unknown

    "Just like I told you below -"

    The students of Hogwarts were in for a shock today when they found out that their Defense Against the Dark Arts practical ss was not going to take ce in the spacious and familiar Great Hall. Instead, after giving them a brief and mysterious introduction, Professor Watson led therge and curious crowd of first and second year students to an old and dusty ssroom near the headmaster''s office on the eighth floor of the castle.

    As they reached their destination, they saw Professor Watson standing in front of a heavy oak door that looked like it hadn''t been opened for ages. He smiled at the slightly excited and nervous young wizards who were lining up in the narrow corridor, "I used aplex and powerful magic to expand the space inside this ssroom a little bit, to make room for the dark creature I prepared for you to deal with."

    "What is it, Professor Watson!" A voice rang out from the crowd. It belonged to Wayne Rooney, a second-year Hufflepuff boy who was eager to prove himself. He nced at Harry Potter, who was also whispering with his friends Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, with an admiring and envious look and asked loudly, "Is it a troll?"

    "Sorry, Rooney, I''ve already said that I don''t intend to let anyone know the name of that dark creature in advance. If you want to see it, you''ll have to use your own eyes to confirm it. Now, I''m going to tell you the rules of this ''game'' ¨C"

    Bryan leaned against the oak door with his arms crossed and smiled wickedly, "Two people per group for second year, three people per group for first year, together against the creature inside. Because of the limited time, each group has only ten minutes. If you exceed the time limit or die, you fail."

    The crowd began to stir. Many people noticed the special word in Professor Watson''s sentence and felt a chill run down their spines. Ron and Harry looked at each other and saw the fear and anxiety in each other''s eyes. ording to their previous experience with Professor Watson, the creature inside the ssroom was probably not something they would enjoy facing.

    Malfoy''s body was already shaking uncontrobly. He thought of a horrible possibility, but he didn''t want to believe it.

    "Death." Neville''s voice was trembling, as if he would faint at any moment. He clutched his wand tightly in his hand, hoping it would give him some courage.

    Fortunately, Hermione was still able to maintain her rationality. She red at Neville and whispered in a scolding tone, "Professor Watson wouldn''t let anyone die, Neville. Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic wouldn''t allow it!"

    "That''s hard to say, Miss Granger," Hearing this sentence, Bryan looked amused. The smile on his lips made many people shudder.

    "I''ve done some unruly things over the years that might scare you all if I told you. I can only say that I don''t want to see anyone ''sacrifice heroically'' in this trial!"

    Then, Bryan waved his wand and a parchment shimmering with red magic appeared in front of him. Bryan looked around the crowd and finally let the magic contract float into Hermione''s hands.

    "So before you enter this ssroom for the trial, you have to sign your name on this magic contract. Miss Granger, please read aloud what''s on it."

    Hermione took the parchment and eagerly read it. She only nced at it a few times and her confident expression that nothing would happen disappeared. Her pale pink cheeks gradually turned white as snow, and Harry, Ron and Neville who saw the words on the paper also felt like they were choked by someone and had difficulty breathing. Hermione stared nkly at Professor Watson, trying to confirm whether this was just an April Fool''s joke. But Professor Watson''s serious eyes gave her the answer. There were already some young wizards behind her who were anxiously urging her. Hermione had to fulfill her duty first.

    1. Those who enter the ssroom for the trial first, whether sessful or failed, must not reveal anything they see inside by any means. Those who do not participate in the trial are also not allowed to inquire.

    2. In this trial, each group member has two chances. If they fail in the first round, they are not allowed to consult anyone or look up any information until the end of the second round trial. They are only allowed to discuss with their group members how to pass the trial."

    Bryan interrupted Hermione with a smile and said to everyone,

    "I set these two rules for the purpose of letting everyone rely on their own and their partners'' wisdom to ovee the dark creature inside under absolute unknown circumstances. The most important rule is the third one. Miss Granger, please continue."

    Hermione swallowed hard and said in a stiff and trembling voice,

    "3. This trial is not mandatory, but those who decide to participate must sign their names on this contract. Signing their names means that they fully understand the risks of this trial. If any personal injury or death urs during the process, it has nothing to do with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry or Professor Bryan Watson of Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

    Wow! When Hermione finished reading this rule with a gasp, the seventy or eighty young wizards standing in the corridor immediately burst into an uproar of discussion. In the chaos, Hermione tried to express her opinion,

    "This is illegal, Professor. The Ministry of Magic won''t recognize this kind of disimer!"

    Bryan shrugged indifferently, "Let the Ministry of Magic go to hell, Miss Granger. I''ve already said that I sometimes like to go against the rules!"

    "But Dumbledore won''t allow it either!" Sophie Roper of Ravenw also screamed.

    "Then let''s go to see Dumbledore , Ahem,"

    Bryan stopped in time and changed to a friendly expression, "In fact, Miss Roper, Dumbledore has already approved my ''teaching n''. Of course, if you think you don''t have the courage to ovee the fear of the unknown, you can also choose not to participate. I said, this is notpulsory."

    "Is this possible, Harry!" Ron, who was shocked like everyone else, muttered, "Dumbledore. How could he?"

    "I can''t answer that question, Ron. I only know one thing!" The pounding heart in his chest made Harry''s face red. He couldn''t tell himself whether he was afraid or excited about facing the unknown challenge. Anyway, this feeling was not bad!

    "Professor Watson might be serious. We''d better take it seriously!"

    Hermione was still staring at the parchment, trying to find ws in the words. From her trembling fingertips, it could be seen that Bryan''s series of preparations were very sessful.

    "You only have two minutes to make a decision." The two minutes passed in a blink of an eye.

    Bryan turned around and smiled, The four houses of Gryffindor, Ravenw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin had different reactions to Bryan''s announcement. Although the fear was the same, most of the Gryffindors who believed in courage had a gleam of eagerness in their eyes. They were ready to face any challenge that came their way.

    Hermione was already whispering the spells that might be useful. Neville''s round eyes were rolling around, hoping someone could give him some guidance. But everyone was in a state of anxiety and no one could tell him what to do.

    The Ravenw young wizards were calmer than the other three houses. They were still trying to analyze whether the contract that Professor Watson brought out was just a bluff and had no binding effect. They wanted to use their logic and reason to solve the problem.

    The Hufflepuff young wizards were looking at the wind. Their choices might be influenced by the decisions of the other three houses. They valued loyalty and fairness, but they also wanted to avoid unnecessary risks.

    The Slytherin young wizards who were best at protecting themselves had some people who were quietly hiding in the back of the crowd. They didn''t want to get involved in something that might endanger their lives or reputations. But Malfoy seemed to have made a choice. His dry lips looked at Crabbe and Goyle from time to time. The bulky bodies that he used to despise seemed to be a bit reassuring at this time.

    Suddenly, Malfoy thought of something. He raised his hand and asked loudly, "Professor Watson, if I decide to participate, can I choose my own teammates?" Harry and Ron were stunned. Malfoy did ask a good question.

    "Unfortunately, Mr. Malfoy," Bryan turned around and smiled yfully, "In order to enhance the interaction between the houses and increase the understanding of each other among the young wizards, I will arrange your teammates ording to my own ideas."

    He paused for a moment and then continued, "That means you might have to work with someone you don''t like or trust very much. But don''t worry, Mr. Malfoy. I''m sure you''ll find somemon ground with your partners when you face amon enemy." He winked at Malfoy and added, "Or maybe not."

    Harry felt a cold sweat on his forehead and suddenly remembered Professor Lockhart''s disastrous dueling ss and the dueling partner that Professor Snape arranged for him.

    "Then."

    There was a tense silence in the corridor, only Bryan was talking. He looked at the young wizards with different thoughts and emotions and opened his arms with a smile, "Ladies and gentlemen, make a decision!"

    He waved his wand and the parchment flew back to his hand. He pointed at it and said, "Whoever wants to participate,e forward and sign your name on this contract. Remember, once you sign it, there is no turning back. You have to face whatever is inside that ssroom. And whoever doesn''t want to participate, just stay where you are. I won''t force you or judge you. But I hope you won''t regret itter."

    /FicFrenzy

 059 Into the Dark

    059 Into the Dark

    The final results came out, and among the nearly 170 young wizards in the two grades, more than half chose to give up, daunted by the challenge ahead. Hufflepuff and Slytherin had the most quitters, Ravenw second, and Gryffindor had the least. This result was not surprising. Bryan quickly divided the young wizards who signed their names into teams. There were ten teams in the first grade and twenty-one teams in the second grade. Harry and Draco stood together with ck faces, ring at each other with hateful eyes.

    "If you kneel down and beg me now, Potter, when you are stuffed into the mouth of some monsterter, I might be merciful and pick up your broken pieces of meat and give them back to your mud-, your stupid friends, so they can have something to remember you by!"

    Malfoy said with a vicious smile on his mouth, his voice dripping with malice. "I''m surprised, Malfoy,"

    Harry, who had his ''dream''e true of facing a dark creature with Malfoy, stared back at Malfoy''s gray eyes without showing any weakness, "I thought you couldn''t walk steady without your two pig-headed henchmen!"

    At this time, Bryan, who had finished dividing the groups, returned to the door of the ssroom. "Time is precious, everyone. Is there anyone who volunteers to go first?" He asked in a hopeful tone. No one spoke. The young wizards who had exhausted their courage stared at their toes and did not dare to look at Professor Watson''s eyes. They knew that behind that door was a test of their skills and nerves that they might not be ready for.

    "In that case"

    Bryan was a little disappointed that he did not get a response after looking around twice. He looked at Harry and Malfoy who were still locked in a staring contest and smiled happily."Then, please let Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy show everyone their dazzling courage and wisdom!" He said with a p of his hands.

    When it came to the end, Harry regretted signing his name on the contract impulsively. He turned his head and found that Ron, Hermione and Neville in the back of the queue were all looking at him with worry. In order not to make them too worried, Harry forced himself to show a smile that was more like a grimace. Then he took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob.

    "Is that it." And Malfoy no longer had that sarcastic expression on his face. He breathed heavily, almost beggingly looking at Bryan, hoping to get some hints or reassurance. But Bryan ignored Malfoy''s plea for help. He just raised his voice slightly and looked at Harry who was twisting the doorknob.

    "Dark creatures don''t like light, Potter. The room might be a bit dark. Be careful not to fall¨C"

    If it weren''t for Hermione and Ron''s encouraging voices from outside the door, if it weren''t for Malfoy who was slowly walking in behind him and hadn''tpletely closed the door yet, then Harry wouldn''t even be sure if he was still in the castle!

    He looked stupidly at the room in front of him, racked his brains to recall every spell he had learned or heard of, wondering which one could turn a normal ssroom into a circr maze as big as a Quidditch pitch! The walls were made of rough stone blocks covered with moss and vines. The floor was uneven and slippery with puddles of water. The ceiling was so high that it was lost in the shadows.

    Click¨C

    When Malfoy closed the door, the light and sound outside were immediatelypletely isted. The space in the ssroom immediately showed a gloomy and obscure darkness like a rainy day when the sun was about to set. There was cold smoke in the air and filled with the smell of rotten meat that Harry had smelled at Nick''s deathday party. It was quiet around without any sound of talking. Vaguely, only the sound of water droplets hitting the brown stone bs could be heard.

    In this situation, Harry''s vision was greatly limited. He did not dare to move rashly. He just held his wand tremblingly and pointed forward, trying hard to open his eyes to see more.

    Fear and unknown made Malfoy temporarily put aside his hatred for Harry. Unconsciously, he took small steps close to Harry''s side. His tone of voice was no longer arrogant and domineering.

    "What do you think is waiting for us ahead, Potter?" He asked in a low voice, as if afraid of attracting attention from something lurking in the dark.

    "I know as much as you do, Malfoy." Harry''s tone was not so harsh either. He did not move his eyesight at all. He tried to pierce through the thin mist that filled the air in front of him. He hoped to find a clue or a way out, but all he saw was more darkness and more walls.

    "Come here, Draco¨C"

    At this time, a dark voice that they both knew very well came from behind the fog. It was cold and harsh, like a knife cutting through the air. And the appearance of this voice immediately made Malfoy regain his spirits and made Harry''s heart sink to the bottom.

    "And you too, Potter. Do you think you can get through these ten minutes by dawdling? I''m sorry to disappoint you. As long as I don''t announce the start and end, you have to stay in this room forever!"

    Snape said with an extremely disgusted tone as usual. His ck robes billowed behind him as he emerged from the mist, his greasy hair framing his pale face and hooked nose. His ck eyes glinted with malice as he looked at the two boys. But Harry was used to it by now. Even in this strange and dangerous environment, he even felt Snape''s disgust a bit familiar, like a constant reminder of who he was and where he came from.

    "Professor, are you here to guide me on how to defeat the dark creatures behind the wall?" Malfoy ran to the entrance of the maze and looked at the professor who cared for him the most in the school with a happy smile. His blond hair was slicked back, his gray eyes shining with hope. He hoped that Snape would give him some advantage over Potter, some secret knowledge or trick that would make him win.

    "Can you tell me what''s inside and what tricks can I use to deal with it?"

    "This you have to rely on yourself, Draco. Professor Watson made me sign a magical contract too, not allowing me to reveal any information."

    Thinking of being forced to sign a contract by Bryan''s friendly face, Snape frowned. He hated being manipted by others, especially by someone who seemed so harmless and cheerful. The next words he said also made Malfoy''s face lose its joy.

    "Dumbledore and Professor Watson arranged me here to try to reduce the casualty rate of this dangerous project."

    Snape looked at Harry who was five feet away from him, looking at the entrance of the maze nervously. He could see the fear and uncertainty in his green eyes, so like his mother''s. He smiled evilly at the corner of his mouth. He said in a light voice as usual when he was in ss, dripping with sarcasm and contempt. "But you have to know, Draco, sometimes if danger suddenlyes, I may not be able to get both of you out of the monster''s mouth in time."

    Harry knew that Snape''s words were actually meant for him. If he and Malfoy were in danger at the same time, it was obvious who Snape would save first! He knew that for some reason Snape hated him more than anything.

    "Professor¨C"

    Harry pretended not to understand Snape''s implication. He pointed his wand at a sticky brown liquid on the wall near the right entrance of the maze, which was slowly dripping to the ground. It looked thick and dark, like old blood that had dried up and then been rehydrated by the damp air. His voice was so sharp that he didn''t even notice it himself. "That. It can''t be, is it blood?"

    Hiss!

    Harry''s guidance made Malfoy notice it too. He immediately gasped and turned his head to run towards the door. He felt a surge of panic in his chest, a cold sweat on his forehead. He didn''t want to face whatever was inside that maze, whatever had left that blood on the wall. He wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. But Snape grabbed his shoulder.

    "Professor Watson''s magical contract has a very strong binding force. Once you sign it, you can''t give up, Draco. Your father won''t be happy to see you be a squib."

    Snape''s words made Malfoy freeze in ce. He remembered how his father had warned him not to disappoint him or bring shame to their family name. He knew that if he backed out now, he would lose professor Snape''s and his father''s recognition and love forever. No matter what, since they stepped into this ssroom, there was no room for regret. No matter how scared they were, Harry and Draco still walked into this maze that exuded ominous and death under Snape''s stern gaze. One chose an entrance each. Their lonely and helpless figures soon disappeared in the dark that seemed to want to devour them.

    /FicFrenzy

 060 The Scream from the Shadows

    060 The Scream from the Shadows

    Harry walked cautiously in a narrow corridor that was barely ten feet wide, feeling the cold and damp walls and ceiling pressing on him from both sides. The walls were covered with patches of different colors, as if they had been stained by some unknown substances over the years. The ceiling was so low that Harry had to stoop slightly to avoid hitting his head on the protruding stones.

    The corridor was darker than any ce Harry had ever seen before. The only source of light was a faint glimmer that barely reached his feet, as if it came from a distant exit. Harry wished he had remembered to use his wand to cast a Lumos spell before he entered the maze, but he had been too eager to catch up with Malfoy and prove his courage. He regretted it when he bumped into the wall while making a sharp turn and almost dropped his wand.

    The silence in the corridor was eerie and oppressive. Harry could hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, as well as his ragged breathing that formed white clouds in the air. Every now and then, he saw wisps of white mist floating past him, like ghostly fingers reaching out to touch him. He shivered and quickened his pace, hoping to find a way out soon.

    This maze was like a forgotten ruin that had been buried underground for thousands of years, untouched by any living creature. The walls were moist with water stains that nourishedrge patches of green moss in the corners, giving off a musty smell. The floor tiles were dark brown and slippery with algae, making Harry lose his bnce several times. He had to move sideways and take small steps, like a crab, to avoid falling t on his face.

    The path behind him soon vanished in the darkness, and the path ahead was still uncertain and confusing. Harry felt a surge of panic rising in his chest. He had to admit that this maze, with its tomb-like atmosphere, was the most terrifying ce he had ever seen in his life!

    "Did Professor Watson ever explore this maze himself?"

    Harry wondered aloud, hoping to hear another human voice besides his own. But his words only echoed back to him, mocking his loneliness and fear. He tried to estimate how long he had been in the maze, but he couldn''t tell. Time seemed to stand still in this ce, or maybe it was moving too fast for him to notice. He felt like he had been wandering for an hour, but it might have been only two minutes. Or maybe it was the other way around.

    "At least, I can''t lose to Malfoy- "

    Harry muttered to himself, clenching his teeth and forcing himself to keep going. He couldn''t let Malfoy win this challenge that Professor Watson had set for them. He couldn''t let Malfoy have the satisfaction ofughing at him or taunting him.

    The area illuminated by his wand showed him the same monotonous scene over and over again. It was this boring and dull picture that stimted his imagination to the extreme, making him conjure up all kinds of horrible images in his mind. What if there were monsters lurking in the shadows? What if there were traps waiting for him at every turn? What if he never found a way out? He wondered how Ron or Hermione would cope with this maze, if they were here with him. Ron would probably curse andin all the way, but he would also crack jokes to lighten the mood. Hermione would probably use her logic and knowledge to find clues and solve puzzles, but she would also be nervous and anxious about every detail. Neville, poor Neville, he would probably faint at the sight of this maze.

    "Could it be that Professor Watson deceived everyone and just wanted to scare everyone with this gloomy maze?"

    Harry thought, after walking for a while without encountering any sign of life or danger. But then he remembered Professor Watson''s reputation and style of teaching, and he dismissed this idea. Professor Watson was not a cruel or sadistic person, but he was also not a soft or easy one.

    The temperature around him dropped suddenly, making Harry shiver even more. He could see that every breath he exhaled turned into a thick mist that lingered in the air, as if he were in a freezer. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, trying to keep warm. Drip, drip. The sound of water dripping became louder as he progressed. The air became more humid and sticky, making Harry feel ufortable and sweaty. His hair was wet with countless tiny droplets that clung to his forehead and temples.

    Finally, he saw something different on the ground in front of him. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a surge of hope and curiosity. Maybe he had found a clue or a way out. Maybe he had reached the end of the maze. Maybe he had beaten Malfoy.

    "Phew, it''s just a small river."

    Harry said, feeling disappointed and relieved at the same time, when he realized what was blocking his path. In the narrow corridor, a ten-foot-wide canal crossed the ground, cutting off Harry''s way forward. The water was dark green and murky, covered with algae and slime. Rotten wood and debris floated on the surface, emitting a foul smell. Harry wrinkled his nose and peered into the water, wondering if there were any fish or frogs or snakes in it.

    Why did Professor Watson make a small canal here? Harry wondered, scratching his head. What was the purpose of this obstacle? Was it a test of his intelligence or his courage? Was he supposed to swim across it or find another way around it?

    He looked back at the way he hade, but he saw only darkness and mist. He had a feeling that Snape was hiding somewhere in the shadows, watching him with his cold and sneering eyes, waiting for him to make a mistake or give up. He imagined Snape''s voice in his head, saying that he had failed the challenge, that he was not brave enough, that he was not worthy of being a Gryffindor.

    The thought of losing to Snape and Malfoy made Harry''s blood boil. He felt a surge of anger and determination. He couldn''t stop here. He couldn''t turn back. He had to find a way to cross the canal and continue the maze. He had to prove himself. He had to win.

    Phew! Harry exhaled heavily and made up his mind.

    Ten feet was not an easy distance to jump over, especially when there was a murky and smelly canal below. But Harry had a natural talent for flying and Quidditch, and he was the youngest seeker in Hogwarts for nearly a hundred years. He had inherited his father''s athletic genes, and he was not afraid of heights or speed. He fixed his eyes on the piece of rotten wood that protruded from the algae-covered water in the middle of the canal. It looked like a small and unstable tform, but it was the only thing that could help him cross the river.

    "Professor Watson must have put this piece of wood here on purpose¨C"

    Harry thought, trying to convince himself that there was some logic and reason behind this obstacle. He backed up two steps and took a deep breath, feeling his heart racing and his muscles tensing. Then he leaped forward with all his strength, aiming for the ''wood'' with his right foot. He felt a brief sensation of weightlessness as he soared through the air, then a jolt of pain as hended on the ''wood'' with a thud. It creaked and wobbled under his weight, but it didn''t break or sink. Harry quickly pushed himself off it and jumped to the other side of the canal,nding safely on the slippery floor tiles.

    He had made it. He had crossed the canal. He felt a surge of relief and pride, but he didn''t have time to celebrate or rest. He sensed that something was wrong, that something was watching him from the dark water. Maybe it was just his imagination, or maybe it was something-someone. He didn''t want to find out. He wanted to get away from this ce as fast as possible. So, without looking back, he continued to move forward, following the faint glimmer of light that seemed to lead him to the exit. His figure soon disappeared in the mist and shadows, leaving behind only his footprints on the wet ground.

    Drip, drip - The sound of water dripping echoed in the empty corridor, creating a rhythmic and hypnotic melody. The water vapor in the air condensed into droplets when it met the wall that was as cold as ice, and slid down along the cracks and crevices. Some of them fell into the canal with a ssh, disturbing the ''wood'' that had served as a stepping stone for Harry. Under the effect of the ripples, the ''wood'' drifted slowly to one side and touched the bank with a soft thump.

    No one noticed that in the boundless darkness, a pale hand emerged from the water and grabbed the edge of the bank. The maze was not constant or predictable. In addition to the winding corridors that twisted and turned in every direction, there were also some small rooms that branched off from them. The rooms had semi-circr high domes that gave them an illusion of spaciousness, but they were actually not veryrge in area. They were empty and dark, except for some strange symbols and patterns carved on the walls and floor. They looked like they had some kind of purpose or meaning, but Harry couldn''t figure out what they were.

    Based on his quick nce when he had entered Professor Watson''s ssroom earlier that day, and his vague memory of the route and direction he had walked since then, Harry guessed that he had probably reached the center of the maze by now. This made him feel a little happy and hopeful, because it meant that he was closer to finding a way out than before. It also meant that he was slightly ahead of Malfoy in this challenge, which gave him some satisfaction.

    Now, whaty before him was a straight corridor that seemed to end at arge hole in the ceiling. Harry raised his wand higher so that the light from its tip could reach farther, but he didn''t see anything new or interesting within thirty feet. It was just more of the same monotonous scene: dark brown tiles on the floor, mottled walls on both sides, low ceiling above him.

    "Where did Professor Watson find this ce¨C"

    Harry wondered aloud, feeling curious and puzzled. He was almost convinced that Professor Watson had not created this maze out of thin air, but had somehow restored or reproduced an area he had been to before. Thisplex and realistic maze could not be the product of imagination alone.

    It had to have some history and origin behind it. Thinking of this, Harry''s mind shed with Professor Watson''s young and handsome face, and the smile that seemed to never be disturbed by any ident or trouble on that face. Harry thought he knew a little about Professor Watson, after spending a few months in his ss, suddenly realized that he had never seen his true face behind his mysterious veil.

    Compared to before, Harry''s steps were much lighter and faster as he gradually adapted to the darkness and silence of the maze.

    He had ovee his initial fear and panic, and had reced them with curiosity and determination. He had convinced himself that Professor Watson had gone to great lengths to create this gloomy maze just to test their courage, and that everything else was just a bluff or a joke.

    The words he had said in the corridor before the challenge, and the magical contract he had made them sign, were just to make them nervous and excited. It made sense. The heir of Slytherin had only petrified two students and a cat so far, which was bad enough, but not fatal. But if he really followed Professor Watson''s words and tried to scare or harm them in this maze, then no one would be safe or happy. Not even Dumbledore or the other professors would allow such a thing to happen. They would stop him or punish him or expel him.

    Thinking about this, the oppressive and cold atmosphere around him became much more bearable and friendly. Harry wiped his forehead with his sleeve, feeling the sweat cooling on his skin. He even smiled slightly at the corners of his mouth, feeling more confident and rxed.

    "Sly Professor Watson!"

    Harry muttered, half-admiringly and half-annoyedly. He didn''t forget that Professor Watson had set a ten-minute ''challenge time'' for each group of people who entered the maze. If he didn''t leave the maze before then, he would be judged as a failure along with Malfoy, regardless of how far he had gone or what he had seen. Even if his ''maze exploration'' progress was higher than Malfoy''s, there was nothing to be proud of or happy about.

    He couldn''t let that happen. He couldn''t let Malfoy beat him or gloat over him. He had to find a way out of this maze as soon as possible. He had toplete the challenge sessfully. He had to win.

    Harry''s mind was racing with many thoughts as he walked along the corridor, trying to figure out the mystery of this maze and the purpose of this challenge. He wondered why he hadn''t seen any sign or sound of Malfoy until now, even though they had entered the maze at the same time and from the same point. Had Malfoy encountered any trouble or danger? Had Malfoy given up or escaped? He also wondered if Snape would break the rules and secretly help Malfoy in some way, such as giving him a map or a clue or a spell. Harry knew that Snape hated him and favored Malfoy, and that he would do anything to make him fail or suffer.

    Thinking of this, Harry felt a surge of impatience and frustration. He rubbed his sore right shoulder, which he had injured when he bumped into the wall earlier. He decided to speed up and leave this ce as soon as possible. He didn''t want to waste any more time or energy in this maze. He wanted to find the exit and prove himself. He wanted to beat Malfoy and Snape. He wanted to win. And just before Harry lifted his foot and took a step forward, a sharp scream full of fear and pain suddenly pierced the air from the darkness ahead, making Harry''s face turn pale and his blood run cold!

    /FicFrenzy

 061 The Corpse

    061 The Corpse

    Bang!

    Without any warning, a deafening roar echoed through the dark maze and Harry slipped and fell on his butt,nding hard on the cold stone floor. But he didn''t care about his sore butt at all, his terrified eyes stared at the pitch-ck corridor that was curling up like a snake, there was no doubt that the scream just now belonged to Malfoy, and it sounded very close to him!

    Malfoy was in danger, there were really dangerous dark creatures lurking in this twistedbyrinth!

    In just a few seconds, Harry''s inner clothes werepletely soaked with sweat, he shivered and got up from the ground, without thinking, his instinct took over his body and he ran towards the direction he came from.

    He had to get out of this nightmare as soon as possible! But after running two steps, Harry stopped again, a trace of struggle appeared on his pale face without blood. There were dark creatures in the maze, which proved that Professor Watson was not lying to them, then, the ''casualties'' mentioned on the magic contract¡­ In this school, Malfoy was the little wizard Harry hated the most, and Harry also knew that he was probably the most hated person by Malfoy, they were natural enemies, if they had a chance, they would both drive each other out of Hogwarts without hesitation, this was unquestionable.

    But that didn''t mean Harry wanted to see Malfoy die!

    Thinking of the word ''death'', Harry shivered again, unconsciously, he had a horrible vision in front of him, a cold corpse lying in the dark corridor, his eyes staring at the ceiling without life, his robe soaked with blood, a furry monster with sharp ws and teeth squatting next to Malfoy''s body, tearing open his stomach and eating the bloody flesh happily! "Don''t be nosy, Harry, Malfoy won''t appreciate you, and besides, there''s Snape outside watching!"

    Harry''s lips turned white and he whispered to persuade his conscience, but no matter what, the vision that appeared in his mind just now was like nailed to his forehead and couldn''t disappear! "Damn it, Malfoy, this is the only time in my life!"

    After a difficult choice, in the end, kindness prevailed over fear and disgust for Malfoy. Harry turned around again and shouted towards the direction where the scream came from,

    "Where are you, Malfoy? If you can still breathe, please scream again!"

    Harry pricked up his ears and listened. There was no sound answering his question. But soon there was a series of hurried footsteps from the end of the corridor. And they were approaching very fast! Harry stumbled back. His heart was pounding in his chest. It seemed that as soon as he opened his mouth it would pop out of his throat!

    "Who''s there!"

    Harry shouted loudly. But then his question was answered. Malfoy rolled and crawled out of the darkness! Harry swore he had never seen such a miserable Malfoy. The nasty face with sharp and bitter features was gone. Instead it was covered with snot and tears. Malfoy''s hair and forehead were stained with blood. The color was like the bloodstain he saw on the wall before entering the maze.

    His robe was torn by something. Only half of it hung on his shoulder. When he saw Harry appear in his sight. Malfoy''s eyes burst out with unprecedented joy! Malfoy actually one day would be happy to see himself. This was really a wonderful thing.

    Harry thought so. But he obviously also knew that this was not the time to let this ridiculous idea upy his mind.

    "What did you encounter!"

    Across twenty feet of distance. Harry began to ask questions. But Malfoy didn''t answer. He desperately controlled his shivering body and ran towards Harry''s direction. Until he threw himself in front of Harry and grabbed Harry''s arm tightly.

    "There are corpses Potter I¡­huh I saw dead people!" Malfoy''s face couldn''t be described as pale anymore. He had a nk look in his eyes when he spoke. As if fear had crushed his psychological defense.

    "The corpse is on the ceiling¡­I was walking in the maze just now thinking about whether to go back or not when a drop of blood fell from the ceiling¡­a pair of white eyes¡­it''s chasing me!"

    Malfoy''s words were jumbled up. Harry was sure that he must have experienced something unimaginably horrible. Because he could feel that Malfoy had almost entrusted all his body weight to him. If it wasn''t for his support he would probably copse on the ground!

    "Don''t talk nonsense Malfoy!"

    Harry said harshly but he noticed that his voice was trembling too. "Professor Watson said¡­he said there are dark creatures here but he didn''t say there were corpses hidden in the maze and besides corpses don''t get up and chase you do they!"

    "You don''t know him Potter!"

    Like a dying candle Malfoy red at Harry''s bewildered eyes and shouted with a red face.

    "You don''t know Bryan Watson; Potter he''s a dark wizard I''ve seen his cruel and ruthless side in private!" This sentence seemed to use up all of Malfoy''s reason. He became a little dazed again. He broke free of Harry''s support and stumbled towards the direction Harry came from. While mumbling words like ''escape'' and ''leave''.

    Harry''s breathing became rapid again. His heart was filled with fear again. He stared nkly at Malfoy leaving his sight. Standing in ce undecided.

    Shasha¡ª At this moment the direction Malfoy came from suddenly came a strange dragging sound. As if someone was dragging their feet on the ground without lifting them! Gurgle¡ª Harry swallowed a mouthful of saliva. The glowing tip of his wand trembled and pointed at the direction where the sound came from. He felt every cell in his body shivering! Should he stay here and fight with that dark creature or turn around and leave now?

    "Professor Watson wouldn''t let us face a monster that''s too much beyond the ability of a little wizard would he¡­since I''vee this far¡­"

    Harry clenched his dry lips and thought hard with the little reason he had left. He was trying to convince himself not to be a coward and forced himself to open his eyes and stare at the direction where the sound came from. At least he had to see clearly what was hidden in the maze. He couldn''t just believe Malfoy''s words! Waiting was the most tormenting thing. Every second seemed to be slowed down by magic. Harry slowly moved to the wall and leaned against it. Quietly waiting for the final moment of fear toe¡­ Even though he had been telling himself since he entered this ssroom that he might encounter something unprecedentedly terrifying, even more than Hagrid''s dog named Fang, even more than Quirrell without his turban, but when that creature came out of the dark, in an instant, Harry felt his entire respiratory system soaked in ice water, every breath he took was so cold, and at the same time, his mental defenses werepletely broken!

    It was indeed a corpse, Malfoy didn''t lie! It was a corpse of a woman with ragged clothes, rotten scalp with sparse long hair, cloudy eyes and skin as white as decayed snow! Harry confirmed it as soon as he saw that thing, because he had never seen anyone who could still move with a dagger stuck in their heart!

    Giggle¡ª A strange sound came from Harry''s mouth. It was the sound of his teeth shing against each other. Oddly enough, Harry began to admire Malfoy a bit, because after encountering this kind of thing, Malfoy still had the strength to run away, which was really a remarkable thing! Run! Harry''s head was filled with only one thought. Why a person who looked like they had been dead for a long time, her corpse could still move, where did Professor Watson get this kind of evil creature, and how to defeat a corpse that sleeps in the arms of death are not things that need to be considered now, the only thing that needs to be considered urgently is to escape. The wind whistling past his ears was enough to prove how fast Harry was running, but even so, he still felt too slow, he never missed his flying broom so much!

    "There''s another one over there Potter!"

    Just as Harry rushed out of a tomb-like small room, Malfoy suddenly appeared from a corner, and the words that Malfoy yelled out of his mouth who had already lost his mind also made Harrypletely panicked! Escape! There is only such a thought left in Harry''s head.

 062 Expected Failure

    062 Expected Failure

    You are lying, Malfoy!

    Harry tried to make his tone sound less like an usation, but the voice that came out was almost a roar. His green eyes shed with anger and disbelief as he red at the blond boy in front of him.

    "I just came from there, Malfoy, there''s nothing there but a drain, you''re scaring people!"

    He gestured wildly at the dark and damp corridor behind him, where he had just escaped from a horrifying encounter with a corpse-like creature. He had barely made it out alive, thanks to his quick reflexes and his trusty wand. If it were normal times, Malfoy, who was treated by Potter with this attitude, might have taken out his wand and fought back, but now, he had no trace of being offended, only desperate sobbing. His pale face was twisted with fear and his silver eyes were wide with horror. He looked like he had seen a ghost - or worse.

    "There was a corpse with chains crawling out of the water, I saw it."

    After saying this, Malfoy copsed in front of the round arch of the small tomb chamber like he had used up all his strength. He curled up into a ball on the cold stone floor, whispering in a lost voice,

    "Watson wants to kill us, Potter, we''re all going to die"

    "Nonsense," Harry gritted his teeth and said, "Professor Watson is the investigator and Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher sent by the board of governors, everything that happens here, Headmaster Dumbledore will know, Professor Snape is outside too!"

    Harry refuted Malfoy''s absurd inference, but at least he believed one thing, that there was indeed a corpse on the side he came in from, only he didn''t notice. It was that piece of wood.

    After a little thought, Harry understood that the corpse with chains that Malfoy said should be the ''wood'' floating in the middle of the small drain. Because he stepped on it, it woke up from its eternal sleep.

    Now, the situation facing Harry was that both the front and back roads were blocked by two corpses that could move and walk, and looked like they could bite people. He and Malfoy were caught in the middle. Probably in thirty seconds, they would have to face those two corpses head-on. And his only ''teammate'' Malfoy looked like he had given up on resisting.

    "Damn it!"

    Harry ran to Malfoy''s side and dragged him into the small tomb chamber from outside the arch. All the way, Malfoy didn''t make any resistance. He just shivered and muttered something like ''it''s over''. His blond hair was matted with sweat and dirt, and his robes were torn and stained with blood.

    "No way, I have to do something."

    The clear rustling sound and the crisp sound of chains sliding on the ground came to his ears. Harry anxiously turned around in the small tomb chamber, wracking his brains for what he could do to resist.

    The chamber was dimly lit by a few torches on the walls. It was filled with ancient coffins and statues of unknown wizards. Harry wondered if they were buried here or if they were guarding something. The best way was to get two big stones to block the round arches at both ends of the room. The two inferi''s looked evil and dangerous, but they didn''t seem to be very strong. If he could seal the room, he and Malfoy could save their lives!

    But he was not Professor McGonagall who taught Transfiguration. He didn''t have the amazing ability to turn a beetle into a teapot with a light wave of his wand! He didn''t even know how to conjure a simple stone!

    Harry was still thinking, but those two inferi''s wouldn''t be so kind as to wait for him toe up with a perfect solution. Soon, they walked around the corner and appeared in Harry''s sight. And they were only about ten feet away from this small room.

    "Petrificus Totalus!"

    When death approached, Harry abandoned thinking and gave his body to instinct. Without any hesitation, he threw a curse at the corpse with swollen face covered with fine cracks, wearing prison clothes, and whose hands and feet were mped by two chains.

    The inferi'' had sunken eyes and rotten teeth that made Harry feel sick. Harry saw this curse for the first timest year when Hermione used it to deal with Neville. At that time, Neville turned into a statue that couldn''t move for several hours under the effect of this curse. Harry hoped that his Petrificus Totalus could also produce such a perfect effect.

    But unfortunately, his curse failed. The inferi''''s slow pace did stagger a bit after being hit by Petrificus Totalus, but it didn''t stop moving! It seemed that it was immune to such simple spells.

    "Expelliarmus!"

    Harry tried again against the other female inferi''. Disarming Charm was the only useful thing Harry learned from Lockhart''s dueling ss. And it was Snape who taught him this. Harry hated to admit it, but Snape was a better teacher than Lockhart in this aspect.

    A brilliant red beam of light shot out from the tip of Harry''s wand and hit the chest of the female inferi with a loud thud. The power of this curse was not negligible. Even the undead creature, whose flesh was rotting and bones were exposed, was forced to stagger back several steps by the impact of the light! But this was far from enough to solve the problem.

    The female inferi, who quickly regained her bnce, resumed her relentless approach towards the small room where Harry and Malfoy were trapped. Harry had already failed twice to stop the inferi with his spells. He felt a surge of despair in his chest. He leaned against the cold stone wall and closed his eyes, as if resigned to his fate.

    He could almost feel the inferi''s sharp teeth tearing at his neck. What should I do! Big drops of sweat rolled down from his forehead to his cheeks like pearls. His face was flushed red as if he had a fever. He remembered what Professor Watson had said in his officest night. Power is power. No matter what kind of extreme emotion can help you gain power to ovee fear in an instant, it can only make you more determined to pursue power, not give you power itself.

    "Think of something, Malfoy, anything that can stop them from getting closer!"

    Harry shouted at Malfoy, hoping to get some inspiration from him. But Malfoy was no help at all. He was curled up in a corner of the room, trembling and sobbing. He looked up at Harry with tearful eyes and said in a hopeless voice,

    "We''re doomed, Potter."

    Harry''s two failed curses seemed to have shattered Malfoy''sst shred of confidence. He stood up shakily, leaning against the wall for support,

    "There''s no curse that can defeat the dead!"

    Harry nced at the two inferi that were closing in on them from both sides. They were only ten feet away from the front and back doors of the room. Harry felt a surge of adrenaline in his veins. His two green eyes shone with a fierce determination after going through the ordeal of fear.

    "Listen to me, Malfoy, listen carefully to what I say, and don''t ask why, because I don''t know why I''m doing this either!"

    Harry said in a low but firm voice. He fixed his gaze on the inferi that was chained to the wall. He took a deep breath,

    "In a moment, I''ll use the Leg-locker curse to try to knock down this chained guy. If it fails, I''ll rush out and push him aside. While he''s biting my neck, you slip past him and run for help. And please call Professor Snape before I die!"

    Malfoy was stunned by Harry''s words. He opened his mouth and stared at Harry as if he had never seen him before.

    Harry didn''t give Malfoy a chance to ask questions or protest. After saying that, he raised his wand and pointed it at the chained inferi.

    "Wait, Potter, why-"

    "It''s over, Draco and you Potter, you can put down your wands."

    Malfoy''s words were cut off by another calm voice that echoed in the narrow room. As soon as the voice sounded, the two inferi stopped in their tracks as if they had received somemand and didn''t move any further.

    Harry couldn''t believe his ears. He turned his head and saw Snape standing at the entrance of the room, looking at them with a stern expression. Harry had never felt so happy to see Snape before. He was so relieved that he even showed Snape a grateful smile!

    And Snape looked at Harry differently from all the previous times. He didn''t hurry to sneer or scold him. Instead, his face wasplex and his ck eyes showed a hint of sadness?

    "Professor."

    Snape''s look made Harry uneasy. He looked up at Snape and asked in a cautious voice, "Did we fail our challenge?"

    Snape answered this question with a nasal voice. He took out two vials of cheering potion from his robes and handed them roughly to Harry and Draco. He watched them drink it with a cold gaze.

    Under the effect of the cheering potion, Harry and Draco''s pale faces rxed a bit. And after losing the external pressure, they felt a wave of fatigue wash over them from head to toe. They were about to copse on the ground. Snape quickly caught them and tucked them under his arms. Only when he picked up Harry, Snape almost lost his grip and dropped him on the ground.

    "Let''s go."

    Finally, Snape nced at the two inferi who had walked back to their original positions and walked through the wall without looking back.

    /FicFrenzy

 063 A Night in the Hospital Wing

    063 A Night in the Hospital Wing

    "Unprecedented"

    The hospital wing was filled with the sound of Professor McGonagall''s angry voice, which overpowered the wails of the young wizards, the urgentmands of Madam Pomfrey, and the gentle reassurances of the heads of houses. They were all doing their best to calm the students who had just faced a horrifying ordeal in Professor Watson''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ''practical ss'' that afternoon. Outside the hospital wing, Headmaster Dumbledore and Bryan stood in front of the enraged Professor McGonagall, looking guilty. They could feel her fury radiating from her like heat.

    In the corridor, many nosy senior students acted as if they were just walking by, hoping to see some of the exciting details of what had happened in the maze. But they were all chased away by Professor McGonagall''s ''fierce'' re, which made them feel like they had been caught doing something wrong.

    "Never in the history of Hogwarts has there been such a serious teaching ident, Professor Watson. Maybe your fanciful teaching methods are novel enough, but I think you have to stop, unless you want to send all the children home before that heir does!"

    Dumbledore blinked his eyes and pretended to be fascinated by a star chart on the ceiling, as if he had no intention of intervening in Professor McGonagall''s interrogation. He knew that she was very protective of her students and that she would not let this matter go easily.

    "¡­You know, Professor McGonagall, we took a lot of precautions to make sure that nothing would go wrong. Headmaster Dumbledore himself cast several powerful binding spells on those two inferi. No one would get hurt¡­"

    Bryan smiled bitterly and defended himself,

    "I just wanted to train their courage¡­"

    "Do you think it''s only a matter of getting hurt, Professor Watson!"

    Professor McGonagall''s eyes shed with a terrible light. She red at Bryan, as if she could pierce him with her stare.

    "Don''t say they are just a bunch of children. How many adult wizards can stand the shock of an inferius?"

    She spat out the word with disgust and fear. She had seen enough inferi in her life to know how dreadful they were.

    "That''s the point, Professor McGonagall¨C"

    Bryan shrugged helplessly, "No one is born a warrior. If we want those children to be able to quickly make urate and effective responses when facing dangerous situations that threaten their lives, we have to train them, exercise their courage, test their determination. Professor McGonagall, if under ourprehensive protection, the children can''t even deal with only two inferi that only need a simple spell to solve¡­forgive me for being blunt, is the teaching purpose of Hogwarts just to let the young wizards pass two pointless exams?"

    He raised his voice slightly, challenging her with his words.

    "Pointless exams?"

    Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and stared at Bryan with hawk-like sharp eyes, "Is that what you think, Professor Watson? Those are two exams that determine their fate. Well, let''s not talk about that¡­maybe your intention is good, but I think they are too young. You might want to wait until¡­"

    She tried to reason with him, but he interrupted her before she could finish.

    "Wait until when?"

    Bryan smiled sarcastically and asked back,

    "Wait until the danger''s ws are on their necks before teaching them how to use wisdom and courage to resist danger?"

    He gestured with his hands as if he was holding a knife to his throat. Seeing that the argument was gradually sliding into a quarrel, Dumbledore finally stepped in. He walked between Professor McGonagall and Bryan and said sinctly,

    "In my opinion, why not give the decision back to the children?"

    He looked at them both with his twinkling blue eyes and smiled gently. He hoped that they would listen to him and respect the students'' choices.

    Because of time constraints, only half as many young wizards participated in the trial this afternoon. And none of them knew how to deal with the inferi. Quite a few of them gave uppletely after crying and running back shortly after entering the maze. And among those who persisted, there was none who seeded in meeting like Harry and Draco did at the end of the maze.

    Hermione fell into the ditch when she passed through that small waterway that was supposed to lead her to the exit. When she struggled to climb up with the help of a piece of wood that had turned over in the water, she identally found a pair of eyes covered with white film staring at her from below. After a scream that pierced her eardrums and made her blood run cold, she fainted cleanly.

    And Daphne Greengrass who was in her group was scared by the inferius that fell from the ceiling and ran in the wrong direction, thus failing in the trial as well. She tripped over a root and sprained her ankle, and had to be rescued by Professor Flitwick who heard her cries for help. She wished she had never signed up for this nightmare.

    The most astonishing and admirable disy of skill that afternoon in the ssroom came from two unexpected candidates: Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Ginny had a discerning eye and a clever mind. She realized that the piece of wood bobbing in the ditch was not what it seemed. She cast a small spell to reveal its true nature: a corpse of a human being, animated by dark magic. Instead of panicking or fleeing, she bravely faced her fear and used a freezing spell to create ayer of ice on the surface of the water, trapping the inferius below. It thrashed and twisted in the water, but could not break free or reach her. Unfortunately, Ginny did not know the proper way to destroy the inferius for good, and she ran out of time before she could figure it out. She failed the task, but earned respect for her courage and cleverness.

    Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, was known for being timid and clumsy. He had always struggled with magic and confidence. But when he fell into the ditch like Hermione, he showed a different side of himself. He wrestled with the inferius in a desperate struggle for survival, screaming at the top of his lungs. He managed to hold his own for a while, but he was no match for the strength and speed of the undead creature. He was finally rescued by Snape, who had a pale and disgusted expression on his face as he pulled Neville out of the water by his cor.

    Madam Pomfrey had just given everyone a jar of chocte milk infused with a cheering charm. The atmosphere in the hospital wing was much better than it had been earlier. Because of Bryan''s magic contract, no one could talk about what they had experienced in that ssroom. They could only deal with their own emotions and injuries.

    "What¡­what happened¡­"

    Lying on the bed in the innermost part of the hospital wing with Colin and Justin, Professor Lockhart, whose cheeks were swollen like a squirrel''s from being pped by Hermione, tried to crane his neck and kept asking questions, but Hermione, who was closest to him, ignored himpletely.

    "We can''t possibly deal with that kind of thing¡­"

    Hermione was obviously still traumatized by her encounter with the inferius. She curled up in the nket, her body trembling slightly, and her tearful eyes were lost and helpless. She felt like she had failed herself and everyone else.

    Harry was lying next to her. His condition looked fine, except that his face was a bit pale. But he didn''t know how tofort Hermione either. His hollow eyes stared at the white ceiling and he was thinking about what Malfoy had said that afternoon¡ªdark wizards, ruthless and vicious Professor Watson in private? What did Malfoy know that he didn''t?

    "Potter¡­"

    Leaning on the opposite bed, Malfoy, who had been staring at Harry''s face since he entered the hospital wing, said with a gloomy face.

    "What do you want, Malfoy?"

    Harry had no intention of reconciling with Draco because of their failed cooperation. He had always considered him as his most outspoken enemy in the school. He subconsciously gave Malfoy an unhappy look.

    Malfoy''s lips tightened and his cheeks reddened visibly. He red at Harry and then turned his head away. However, a few minutester, Malfoy couldn''t suppress his curiosity and stared at Harry''s cheek again and asked,

    "Why did you do that this afternoon?"

    Harry understood what Malfoy wanted to ask, but he didn''t know how to answer. In that moment of life and death, his decision waspletely driven by instinct. Even when he came back to his senses, he felt that his decision was very absurd and ridiculous. How could he choose to save Malfoy, the one he hated most among all the young wizards in the school? The one who had insulted him and his friends countless times?

    "¡­If you''re willing to tell me what you meant by those words you used to evaluate Professor Watson, Malfoy, maybe I can tell you honestly why I made that stupid decision at the time."

    "Potter!"

    This time, Malfoy''s heart waspletely free of any slight gratitude or guilt that he might have felt earlier. He bared his teeth like a threatened hyena and red at Harry, "Do you expect me to thank you for your insignificant help? Huh? You''re just like everyone else. You didn''t do anything!"

    "Oh yeah, thank you!"

    Harry also got angry. He sat up from the bed, his eyes equally sharp. "I never dared to hope for your thanks¡­to be honest, Malfoy, I doubt you really understand what that word means or how to say it sincerely!"

    /FicFrenzy

 064 Decision

    064 Decision

    The school hospital was a hive of activity and spection as Principal Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Bryan made their way inside. Almost half of the students had seen the tense confrontation between Harry and Draco, and they were dying to know more about what had sparked it. Wizards had a tendency to forget the past and chase the new and the unknown, and that was part of their charm.

    "Ahem¡ª¡ª"

    Dumbledore smiled warmly, and walked to the center of the crowded hall. He swept his gaze over the young faces, and saw a mix of emotions on them. Some looked frightened, some looked defiant, some looked puzzled, and some looked bored. He spoke in a loud and clear voice,

    "I''m so pleased that I don''t see any dejected and lost faces among you."

    Professor McGonagall coughed disapprovingly, because Dumbledore''s words were not very urate. She knew that some students still had nightmares about the dark creatures they had met in the maze, and their faces showed signs of trauma and despair.

    "Just now, Professor McGonagall, Professor Watson and I discussed in detail whether the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical ss should continue. Professor McGonagall believes that the dark creatures that you are facing are too dangerous and beyond your abilities. However, Professor Watson insists that dangers alwayse unexpectedly, so it is very urgent and necessary to train your ability to deal with and solve dangers."

    The hall became silent, except for some murmurs and whispers. No one dared to make a sound, and everyone stared helplessly at the three people with different expressions in the middle of the hall.

    "¨CI think the decision-making power should be returned to you."

    Dumbledore looked at the students with gentle eyes, and he spoke slowly to ensure that everyone could hear clearly,

    "Do you think this way of learning may be too ''radical'' and need to be stopped?"

    Professor McGonagall expected that the students would jump at the chance to give up the practical ss, but to her surprise, no one was brave enough to say that they would give up.

    "Professor¡ª"

    After a long time, Ginny raised her hand timidly. She looked at Professor Watson, who was smiling calmly and didn''t seem to care much about the choice of the students. Fear shed in her eyes as she remembered the horrors she had faced in the maze. "We can''t give up, can we? I mean, we have all signed that contract, and if we abandon it, we will suffer severe punishment."

    "If you are afraid of that, Miss Weasley, there is no need at all,"

    Bryan said to all The person exined, "Principal Dumbledore has the power to help you forcibly terminate the contract. If anyone thinks that he is unable to defeat the dark creatures in the maze, you can apply now. Both Principal Dumbledore and I can Make sure that you will not suffer any punishment."

    This time, the atmosphere in the hospital was much more lively, and many people had already shown eager expressions. They wanted to get rid of the nightmare of facing dark creatures every week. But because no one took the lead, no one spoke for a while.

    "Professor Watson¡ª"

    At this time, Hermione raised her hand in a depressed mood,

    "Do you really think that those are something that a student can ovee?"

    "It''s not difficult, Miss Granger¡ª"

    Bryan looked at this young witch whom he admired for her intelligence and courage. He nodded and smiled, "You were only blinded by fear for a while, and did not see through the weak nature of the enemy''s hideous appearance. As far as I know, Miss Granger , you and Mr. Potter and your mutual friend Mr. Weasley once defeated a twelve-foot-tall mountain troll in the girls'' toilet in your first year at Hogwarts. May I ask-"

    Bryan turned to Hermione Harry, who was next to her, nodded, "Did you use any particrly powerful spells?"

    "No, Professor!"

    Harry was not a fool. He understood what Dumbledore had meant earlier. He trusted Dumbledore''s judgment more than Malfoy''s usations against Professor Watson. He didn''t let Malfoy''s words bother him anymore. Hearing Professor Watson''s question, Harry subconsciously replied,

    "Ron used the Levitating Charm to drop its club on its head and I used my wand to stick it up its nose. It was scary but not very hard."

    Professor McGonagall watched Harry blow his nose violently, wiping away the blood that had spurted from his nostrils. She seemed to want to say something, but was stopped by a gesture from Dumbledore, who was listening attentively.

    Bryan nodded in satisfaction. He nced at Madam Pomfrey, who was pouring a purple potion for Professor Lockhart, who suffered due to ''alcohol-allergy''. He looked around at the pair of small eyes that shone earnestly on each young face, and continued to ask, "Who thinks that you faced something more difficult to deal with than a giant monster in the maze today?"

    All the second-year students present had a vivid memory of what happened on the night before Halloween the year beforest, when a troll had invaded the castle and nearly killed Hermione. The troll was not a particrly mysterious creature, even if they had not seen it with their own eyes. Most of the students had also seen the appearance of giant monsters in books. Faced with Professor Watson''s question, the students who had already encountered the Inferi in the afternoon frowned.

    "¡­In my opinion, the troll is more difficult to deal with!" Ron said loudly. "The troll can throw me into the air with one hand, but that thing in the maze¡­"

    He shuddered as he recalled the sight of the pale and lifeless corpses that had risen from the water and attacked them.

    When the students chattered into his ears, Bryan smiled warmly.

    "It seems that you have already understood, right? Despair will onlye when you face fear and choose to give uppletely!" He said in an inspiring tone.

    "How amazing and wise what you said¨C"

    Dumbledore took off his half-moon sses and wiped his eyes, muttering softly.

    "But, professor¨C" Hermione interrupted him. She was a very sensible witch. Although she was greatly encouraged by Professor Watson''s speech, she still hoped to get a more concrete answer.

    "We have a question about that thing. We don''t know anything about it, we don''t know how to deal with it!"

    "Hey, haven''t I already told you the method?" Bryan blinked yfully. "And my hint was very obvious, Miss Granger."

    Unsurprisingly, everyone became confused. When did Professor Watson mention this terrifying creature in ss? The students talked a lot, and Hermione frowned and carefully recalled every ss, every word, and even private conversation of Professor Watson since he became the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but no matter how hard she thought, she couldn''t find any clue!

    Harry next to Hermione bit his lip in confusion, but seemed to have realized something.

    "I, I want to continue, Professor McGonagall." Ten minutester, beyond everyone''s expectations, Neville Longbottom, the shy and clumsy boy of Gryffindor House, was the first to raise his hand and express his opinion.

    Bryan looked at the round-faced boy curiously. This was the second time Neville Longbottom surprised him today.

    To be honest, before that, he really didn''t expect that any student would dare to fight hand-to-hand with the Inferi. If nothing happened, this Longbottom would be a great wizard in the future!

    "Mr. Longbottom!" Professor McGonagall looked at Neville sternly. "If you just want to satisfy your grandmother, you don''t have to use this method to prove yourself!"

    Professor McGonagall''s eyes almost frightened Neville''s neck shrank into his chest, especially in front of Headmaster Dumbledore, he could hardly produce any courage to argue. He just lowered his head and muttered something that no one could hear clearly.

    "Then, the decision-making power will be left to you two¨C"

    Bryan didn''t wait for every student to express his opinion. He took a deep look at Lockhart, who was lying on the bed with a nk expression on his face. He then turned to Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall and nodded with a smile. He left the hospital wing directly to his office.

    There, he had more important things to do.

    /FicFrenzy

 065 A Long Memory

    065 A Long Memory

    Bryan stepped out of the school hospital, feeling a wave of relief wash over him as he saw that the students who had been attacked by the inferi were all safe and sound. He walked along the dimly lit corridor towards the stairs, but to his surprise, he saw a group of red-haired boys waiting anxiously at the corner of the stairs. They were the Weasley brothers, and they seemed to have been expecting him. As soon as they saw him approaching, they looked at him with hopeful eyes that sparkled in the darkness.

    "Isn''t it past your bedtime, Mr. Weasley?" Bryan asked, eyeing the prefect Percy and his three younger brothers behind him. He noticed that they were all wearing their Gryffindor scarves and badges, as if to show their solidarity. "Or are you nning to have a family reunion here?"

    "Well, actually, Professor Watson¡ª" Percy began, clearing his throat nervously. The Weasleys, who were rarely all present except for Ginny, exchanged uneasy nces before the eldest one stepped forward and exined, "Professor McGonagall won''t let us visit the hospital wing, but we''re really worried about Ginny."

    "Ah¡ª" Bryan smiled sympathetically and nodded. He could understand their concern for their sister''s well-being,. "It''s understandable that you''re concerned about your sister''s well-being, but there''s no need to fret, boys. Your little sister is perfectly fine, in fact, none of the young wizards suffered any serious injuries. Madam Pomfrey said they just need to stay overnight in the hospital wing for observation, and they can leave tomorrow morning."

    His reassuring words seemed to lift a weight off their chests, as the brothers let out a collective sigh of relief. Ron, who had been lucky enough to be assigned to the second half of Bryan''s trial today, blinked eagerly and asked, "Professor Watson, could you please let us go and see Ginny? Harry and Hermione are there too."

    "Sorry, kiddo¡ª" Bryan walked past them down the stairs, shaking his head. He knew that they were curious about what had happened in the trial, but he also knew that they needed some rest. "I think you''d better follow the doctor''s orders. I told them not to disturb their rest. Now go back to your dormitory and get some sleep. If Ie back to my office and find you still lurking here, Gryffindor''s chances of winning the House Cup this year might be ruined."

    "Actually, I wanted to ask Professor Watson what he has prepared for the advanced practice ss." Percy muttered regretfully as he watched Professor Watson''s receding figure. He was always eager to learn more from the brilliant young professor who had impressed everyone with his magical skills and knowledge.

    "Don''t bother, Percy. Professor Watson''s lips are sealed. We tried it already, and he wouldn''t spill a single word!" Ron snapped at his brother, his disdain obvious. He thought that Percy was too uptight and boring for his own good.

    "I''m not like you, Ron. I''m a¡ª" Percy started to say, but was interrupted by the twins who chorused gleefully, "Prefect!" They loved to tease their brother for his pompous attitude and strict adherence to rules.

    "Go back to sleep, you three!" Percy shouted at the twins and Ron who had already walked away. He was annoyed by theirck of respect and discipline. "If you don''t learn to y by the rules in the next few months, I''ll write to Mum!"

    "Is everything normal?" Bryan asked as he pushed open the door of his office, only to catch a glimpse of Professor Snape sitting on a chair with his hands covering his face and his shoulders slightly trembling. This strange expression vanished as soon as the door was halfway open, and Snape got up and strode out of the office without a word. His ck cloak billowed behind him as he disappeared into the shadows.

    "Did the Inferi scare him into tears?" Bryan wondered as he walked to the stool in the middle of the room, staring curiously at the few drops of water that had not yet evaporated on the floor in front of the stool''s legs. He raised his eyebrows and waited until there were no traces of tears left of Snape, before he slowly lifted his head and let out a baffled chuckle.

    Maybe I should find an opportunity to talk to Professor Snape before I leave Hogwarts. He thought as he waved his wand downwards, closing the curtains and veils with a swish. To ensure that he wouldn''t be spied on by some nosy old man or any other unwanted visitors, Bryan kept drawing with his wand in mid-air, casting powerful protective spells that shone brightly in the dark. The intricate patterns were engraved into the void, isting his office from Hogwarts on multiple levels of magic and space.

    Bryan felt like he was on a floating ind in the middle of the ocean, isted and unreachable by anyone except himself. He had spent a long time studying the memory magic he had learned from Lockhart''s collection, using his deep knowledge of the spells to master the technique of extracting and viewing memories without the aid of the legendary ''Pensieve''. He was eager to uncover the memories hidden in his own mind, secrets that he had forgotten or repressed.

    He extinguished the fire and the candles, and cast a spell to block out the moonlight and starlight from the windows. His office became a pitch-ck void, like a dark abyss in the cosmos.

    In the eternal darkness, a faint silver light appeared, like a drop of ink falling into a clear pool. It rippled and pulsated, as if it was breathing. Gradually, it expanded and formed a beautiful gxy in front of Bryan''s eyes.

    "Is this the memory that I can''t recall?"

    Bryan had been waiting for this moment for a long time. He wrapped himself in a cloak, and without any hesitation, he dove into the silvery mist.

    He felt like a fish swimming in the river of time, gliding through the forgotten memory. The images that had once been real were etched in his mystical eyes, and his brain worked at full speed. His emotions fluctuated, rising and falling with the scenes.

    "Do you think we can really do it?"

    The hospital wing was dark and silent. All the young wizards were lying quietly on their beds, but not because they were sick or injured. They were there for one reason only: to ensure that nothing would go wrong tonight, when so many underage wizards were gathered in one ce. Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout had joined Madam Pomfrey to watch over them personally.

    It was a rare asion for the two professors to spend the night in the hospital wing. They were sitting in the small office, chatting animatedly with Madam Pomfrey under the dim moonlight.

    But the young wizards were not so easy to tame. They had been ordered by Professor McGonagall to sleep well, but they did not dare to disobey. However, they secretly sent paper cranes to each other, exchanging messages and gossip.

    Harry''s partner was not Hermione - his partner was lying on the opposite bed, ring at him sulkily. He had no choice but to talk to Hermione about topics that were ''not forbidden''.

    "I don''t think Professor Watson would lie to us."

    A paper crane flew discreetly into Harry''s bed, and he opened the note. It was Hermione''s neat handwriting:

    "But I''ve been thinking about all the sses that Professor Watson taught us, and I don''t remember him mentioning anything about that thing in the maze -"

    Harry crumpled up the note impatiently, turned over and closed his eyes.

    That night, when Professor Watson said that he had given them a clue, Harry felt a sh of insight in his head. He was so close to figuring it out, but he couldn''t break through.

    It was a frustrating feeling, to be so near and yet so far.

    Seeing that Harry was no longer interested in chatting, Hermione''s bright eyes clouded over. Her thoughts became muddled and confused.

    She pulled up her nket and tried to sleep, but she tossed and turned for a long time. She couldn''t fall asleep.

    The quiet ward became a symphony of snoring in different styles. Hermione only left her forehead outside the nket and entrusted her body to the warmth of the bed.

    "What did Professor Watson do before he came to Hogwarts?"

    On the first night, Professor Watson had told them that he had encountered some dark creatures in the maze during his travels. He had kept some of them because they had research value. What kind of adventures did he have with these dangerous creatures?

    Hermione''s mind was filled with questions that might never be resolved. She felt a heaviness in her eyelids, and soon she drifted into a deep slumber. On the other side of the castle, Bryan dismissed the silvery mist with a flick of his wand and sank back into his chair behind the desk. He was lost in thought, pondering the meaning of the memory he had just witnessed.

    /FicFrenzy

 066 Persistence and Giving Up

    066 Persistence and Giving Up

    All the protective magic that Bryan had cast over his office had been dispelled by his own hand, and the feeble starlight from the night sky once again filtered through the curtains that fluttered in the gentle breeze. On the back of his leather chair, he gazed at the speckled light and shadow on the dark wooden floor, his face showing signs of fatigue and weariness.

    Before he decided to read his own memory, Bryan had expected to find some intriguing information, but no matter how rich his imagination was, he had not anticipated such astonishing revtions to be hidden in his ''erased'' past.

    "Harry Potter¨C"

    He muttered after a long silence, closing his eyes with a bitter smile on his lips.

    The memory under the dormitory floor had nothing to do with the plot of the original story, but it was more crucial than the plot. It could even be said that this was a memory that affected the "future direction" of the wizarding world.

    "It''s no wonder I made suchprehensive protection back then¡ª"

    Bryan whispered softly, the bitter smile at the corner of his mouth gradually turning into a dark one, and his eyes flickering with not only relief but also doubt.

    "¨CAm I still involved? But, why do I have to go to this point. Is it really possible?"

    The content of the memory itself made Bryan understand why there was such a thing as this memory, and why the clues of this memory would only emerge when he returned to Hogwarts and met Harry Potter, but its existence also gave Bryan deeper doubts, which were currently unsolvable, and only by following the flow of time step by step would the mystery be unveiled one day in the future.

    "¡ª¡ªit seems that my appearance still makes the problem moreplicated?"

    Bryan twirled the magic wand at her fingertips, and cast a nce at the bookshelf. The pale pink voodoo doll that represented his connection to Voldemort''s Curse had already shown signs of decay, and he could already feel that this doll could notst long under the ravages of the Dark Lord''s power, which meant that his time at Hogwarts was about to enter the countdown.

    "It''s about time for the heat¡ª"

    Bryan sniffed and let out an inexplicableugh, he already smelled the scent of ''freedom''.

    He got up from his chair and walked towards the door, ready to start another day of teaching.

    "Eight-eyed spiders¨Cthis is an extremely aggressive dark creature that lives inrge colonies. So far, it has not been found that there is any kind of creature that is not liked by eight-eyed spiders as food. Of course, this also includes human flesh."

    Bryan''s exnation made all the young wizards who ''legally'' entered the edge of the Forbidden Forest calm their excitement slightly, and turned their attention like a runaway horse back to the juvenile eight-eyed spider behind Professor Watson.

    The spider was about the size of a small dog, with eight red eyes staring at them menacingly. Its hairy body was covered with ck and yellow stripes, and its fangs dripped with venom.

    "You can tell from its size that this is a magical creature with excellent speed and strength. It is especially important to note that the venom of an adult eight-eyed spider can even incapacitate a fire dragon."

    Facing a group of little wizards who looked at him with admiration and curiosity, Bryan talked eloquently,

    "However, it is still not difficult to deal with, because the eight-eyed spider''s weaknesses are as prominent as its advantages. In terms of spell resistance, the eight-eyed spider''s magic resistance is about the same as that of a wizard, which means that even a first-year wizard, as long as he can make his own spell hit the eight-eyed spider, then he can defeat this creature!"

    "Professor Watson!"

    Katie Bell of Gryffindor raised her hand eagerly, her voice was mixed with excitement and fear,

    "If we are bitten by an eight-eyed spider, will ity eggs in our body?"

    "Why can''t you ask a less disgusting question, Katie?" Arya said disapprovingly.

    She was standing next to Katie, holding her wand tightly in her hand. She had always been interested in dark creatures, but she felt a chill when she saw the spider''s fangs.

    Bryan smiled slightly and shook his head.

    "No, Katie. Eight-eyed spiders don''ty eggs in their prey. They prefer to wrap them in silk and store them forter consumption."

    He saw some students shudder at his words.

    "But don''t worry. As long as you follow my instructions and keep a safe distance from it, you won''t be bitten by it."

    He said reassuringly.

    Click, click, click.

    The sound of the eight-eyed spider''s chelicerae cking together echoed in the air. Bryanughed. He waved his hand and lifted his petrification spell on the creature. He instructed the young wizards who were eager to try their skills,

    "Quickly retreat three hundred feet and form a line before the monstrous eight-eyed spider charges at you. You must try to petrify or stun it with your spells before it sinks its fangs into your flesh and injects its deadly venom.

    Let me remind you once again, everyone, at this distance, it only takes less than five seconds for the eight-eyed spider to reach you. That means you only have time to cast two spells at most. Are you really willing to stake everything on this gamble? Do you realize that if you fail, you will have to face the dire consequences by yourself, because I will not lift a finger to help you. You should be grateful to the first and second grade students, because I have lowered the difficulty of the practice ss to a level that even Filch can handle! "

    Facing a group of eager little wizards, the eight-eyed spider closed its eyes in ''despair'', as if it had already foreseen its own doom. This was the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson for grades three, four, and five. What happened in the practical ss, under the fierce protest of Professor McGonagall, Bryan had to scrap the original n of using a sealed ssroom to simte the environment of the Forbidden Forest. Instead, he let the little wizards face the eight-eyed spider one-on-one in an open field.

    However, this challenge seemed to be just right for most little wizards, who enjoyed it immensely.

    Some of them had both courage and skill, such as the Weasley twins. Cedric of Hufflepuff was even able to toy with the poor eight-eyed spider with ease! In the Gryffindormon room that night, when Fred and George boasted in front of everyone that they had used the petrification spell and the sting Curse to sever two of the eight-eyed spider''s thin legs, Ron, who was already anxious about tomorrow''s practical ss, suddenly felt a surge of relief.

    "Anything is better than spiders! "

    Ron''s quivering words made Harry and Hermione exchange a nce. They knew that Ron''s confidence would onlyst until the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss at best. Professor Watson would make Ron learn what it meant to be "wicked"!

    "Listen¨C"

    Ron munched on a piece of pumpkin pie, furrowed his brow and said to Harry and Hermione, who had been lost in thought no matter what they were doing in the past two days,

    "Have you two figured out anything yet? Hearing this, Harry slumped on the sofa, and Hermione also put aside her transfiguration homework and sighed,

    "It''s harder than we thought, Ron. I think you have to brace yourself." Although Professor Watson''s words in the hospital wing were encouraging, it was not easy for us whocked practical experience to achieve what he said, right? "

    Hermione looked at Ron who seemed to have resigned himself to his fate and said, "That''s not something that can be solved by knocking someone out with a levitating spell. "

    Ever since Professor Watson agreed to give everyone another chance to quit at the hospital wing that night, most of the little wizards who had witnessed the necromancy had chosen to back out. And many of those who had nned to enter the maze for the second time had changed their minds.

    In fact, Ron also had the idea of quitting in his heart, but seeing that Harry and Hermione kept on trying, even Neville spent all day squatting in front of the firece pondering what simple spell could be used to defeat the dark creatures in the maze. Ron had no choice but to bite the bullet and stick with it.

    "After tomorrow, Professor Watson has scheduled the next practical ss for next Thursday. Before then, I hope I cane up with some solution."

    Hermione said resentfully,

    "Since Professor Watson has allowed everyone to quit, why can''t he let us look up some information? "

    Author''s Note: Spiders have chelicerae, which are jaws with sharp edges or fangs that attach to their venom nds. Spiders use their chelicerae to seize, immobilize, and chew their prey.

    /FicFrenzy

 067 The Secret of the Eyes

    067 The Secret of the Eyes

    The Easter holiday was still a week away, but Professor McGonagall had already handed out the new course list for the third year to the second-year wizards. She told them they had to make their choices before the break, which threw Hermione into a frenzy of indecision. She spent the whole weekend poring over the pamphlet, fascinated by every subject and unwilling to give up any of them.

    Even when she went to help Professor Lockhart with his fan mail on Sunday afternoon, which had be a regr chore, she brought the course list with her, hoping to get some guidance from Professor Watson. The young Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was always in his office, assisting Lockhart with his correspondence and offering his own insights on various topics.

    "Interest is the best teacher, Granger¨C"

    Bryan said with a smile, as he watched Hermione scribble down a polite reply to a witch who had sent Lockhart a love potion.

    "But you can''t do everything at once. You have to prioritize. If you want my advice, I think Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes are more practical than the others."

    "She''s already made up her mind to take all of them¨C"

    Harry said cautiously, as he leaned against the wall. He had followed Hermione to Professor Watson''s office, not because he enjoyed writing letters for Lockhart, but because he hoped to find some clues about how to deal with the inferi from Professor Watson. The young teacher had hinted that he knew something about them when he visited Harry in the hospital wing during their encounter.

    "All of them?"

    Bryan looked at Hermione with a mixture of admiration and concern. He saw the determination in her brown eyes and the slight frown on her forehead. He knew she was not easily swayed.

    "That might be a problem, Granger. Some of these courses ovep in time. You can''t be in two ces at once."

    "That''s not a problem, Professor Watson. Professor McGonagall gave me a great suggestion¨C"

    Hermione said confidently, as she finished writing the letter and sealed it with wax. She reached for another envelope, eager to get through the pile of mail as soon as possible.

    "What about you, Potter?"

    Bryan changed the subject and turned to Harry. He noticed that Harry looked restless and curious, as if he wanted to ask something else.

    "Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, Professor. Ron and I both chose these two courses."

    Harry answered quickly, trying to sound casual. He wondered how to steer the conversation to the topic of inferi without arousing suspicion. Bryan nodded approvingly and muttered under his breath,

    "I heard that Professor Kettleburn of Care of Magical Creatures is going to retire at the end of the year. It seems that Headmaster Dumbledore will have a lot on his te next year. He has to find two new professors to fill the gaps¨C"

    Harry''s eyes widened in surprise, and even Hermione stopped writing and looked up at Professor Watson in disbelief. They exchanged a nce and then Hermione asked tentatively, "Don''t you want to stay at Hogwarts, Professor?"

    "Hehe¨C"

    Bryan chuckled softly. He picked up a framed photo from his desk and gently wiped off the dust on it. It was a picture of him when he was young.

    "I''m afraid I have to disappoint you, Granger, Potter. Being a professor at Hogwarts may be a good job for some people. Maybe one day in the future, I wille back here as a teacher, but not anytime soon. I have other ns."

    Professor Watson''s answer made Hermione''s face fall. Even Harry felt a pang of sadness. He stared at the young face in the photo, which looked too young. He noticed that Professor Watson''s purple eyes were quite darker than when they first met him at the start of the term. He suddenly remembered what Hagrid had told them about Professor Watson''s school days.

    "Professor,"

    Harry hesitated for a moment, but he couldn''t suppress his curiosity any longer. He asked in a low voice, "We heard some things about your time at Hogwarts from Hagrid. The dark witch you met in the Forbidden Forest in your fifth year, did you ever find out who she was?"

    Bryan''s hand stopped moving. He looked at Harry and smiled mysteriously.

    "That''s a good question, Potter. To be honest, I''ve been wondering about that for years. I''ve always wanted to know what her motive was for breaking into Hogwarts and trying to kill me when I was just a kid. But it wasn''t until recently that I figured it out."

    "Who is she?!" Harry and Hermione gasped in unison, their eyes wide with curiosity and astonishment.

    "I can''t tell you yet¨C"

    Bryan lowered his eyes and smiled as he put the photo frame back in ce. Seeing that the two little wizards looked obviously disappointed, he pursed his lips and thought for a while before smiling again.

    "Well then, aspensation, you can ask me something else. I''ll try to answer you as best I can. Of course, Potter, if you want to find out from me how to pass the ''practical ss'', don''t bother!"

    Harry, who was seen through by Professor Watson, smiled sheepishly. He regretted his words and nced at the photo that Professor Watson had put down. He noticed something else that intrigued him: Professor Watson''s eyes were different in the photo.

    The first time he walked into this office, Harry was very curious why Professor Watson''s eyes had changed so much from when he was in school. It was a rare opportunity to figure this out, since Professor Watson was willing to answer his questions.

    He blinked and chuckled softly. "Alright. If you''re really curious,"

    "Are you willing to tell us?"

    Harry asked timidly, hoping not to offend him.

    "There''s nothing I can''t say, Potter¨C" Bryan leaned back on his leather chair and smiled gently.

    "Actually, this has something to do with what happened on the night of Christmas Eve in my fifth year."

    Hermione dropped her quill and parchment on the desk and sat upright, her face serious and attentive. She loved hearing stories from the past, especially from someone who had witnessed so many important events in the wizarding world.

    "That night, there were two things that made me uneasy. The first one was the ck witch who suddenly broke into Hogwarts, and the second one was Headmaster Dumbledore¨C"

    Bryan raised his hand to stop Harry, who opened his mouth to defend Dumbledore. He looked up at the cold stone ceiling and smiled wistfully, his eyes distant and nostalgic.

    "That night, Headmaster Dumbledore showed me what it was like to stand at the top of the contemporary wizarding world with a simple disarming spell. A truly powerful wizard. For a while after that night, I kept thinking about this question: if in the future, for some reason, I had to fight a wizard as powerful as Headmaster Dumbledore, how would I ensure that I could survive or even win against such a wizard?"

    Harry and Hermione exchanged uneasy nces. They felt a chill run down their spines as they imagined such a scenario.

    After a while, Harry said softly, "That was just a misunderstanding, Professor. Under normal circumstances, Headmaster Dumbledore would never hurt you."

    "Headmaster Dumbledore is the greatest white wizard of our time. I think that losing to such a wizard-"

    Hermione couldn''t finish her sentence under Professor Watson''s brilliant eyes, but she still expressed her admiration. In the contemporary wizarding world, no one would think that losing to Dumbledore was a shameful thing.

    "My opinion is different from yours, Miss Granger."

    Bryan rubbed his fingers together and said calmly, "The first step to surpass someone is that you have to believe in your heart that you can do it. There is no one in this world who is invincible. No matter how powerful a wizard is, he is destined to be surpassed byter generations. So I never think that Headmaster Dumbledore or the Dark Lord are absolutely unbeatable¨C"

    /FicFrenzy

 068 Clues

    068 Clues

    Sharing secrets is the most direct way to get closer to each other. After listening to Professor Watson reveal his hidden past, Harry felt a surge of mixed emotions. He looked at Hermione hesitantly, wondering if he should confide in her as well. But Hermione, who sensed his inner turmoil, gave him an encouraging and curious look.

    "Why, do you have something to share with me?"

    Bryan got up from his cozy armchair and walked over to the firece, where a copper kettle was whistling on the shelf. He poured himself a cup of steaming tea and added a dash of milk and sugar. The aroma of the tea filled the air, creating a soothing atmosphere. When he returned to his seat, Hermione and Harry had clearly reached some kind of agreement. They exchanged a meaningful nce and nodded at each other.

    "Professor Watson, do you think hearing voices that others can''t hear is a good talent?" Harry asked tentatively, biting his lower lip.

    Looking at Harry''s nervous face, Bryan knew that he had sessfully gained their trust and friendship during this period of time. He was about to reap the rewards of his efforts, but he hid his excitement behind a cloud of smoke from his pipe. He replied very gently, "It depends on the situation, Potter, I can''t make an urate judgment with just a simple sentence. You have to tell me more about these voices."

    A suffocating silence fell suddenly, as if the air had frozen. Hermione kept her mouth shut, not wanting to interrupt Harry''s thoughts. Harry had an uneasy expression, as if he was wrestling with a dilemma. He fidgeted with his sses and ran his fingers through his messy ck hair.

    Professor Watson was a professor he liked very much, but he also knew that the other party''s main purpose of entering Hogwarts was not to teach. It was Professor Watson''s job to investigate the Chamber of Secrets incident. If possible, Harry hoped to give him some help. Of course, the premise was not to involve himself or Dobby and Hagrid.

    In the best case scenario, he hoped that Professor Watson would find the secret chamber or the monster inside it, and then the whole thing would be resolved peacefully, without anyone being med or punished.

    "¡ªthat''s the case," Harry said carefully, choosing his words with caution, trying to convince Professor Watson that he knew only a little bit.

    "When I entered your office for the first time, you asked me why we came to the third floor after attending the Nick''s Death Day party on Halloweenst year. In fact, it was because I heard a weird voice, this voice first appeared in Professor Lockhart''s office."

    In the next ten minutes, Harry exined the origin and nature of the strange voice, and how it seemed to be rted to the attacks on the students. He omitted some details that might implicate himself or others, such as Dobby''s warning or Hagrid''s expulsion. After listening to all this, Bryan''s face was expressionless. He leaned back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughtfully.

    "What do you think made that voice?" he asked calmly.

    "Are you sure that you are the only one who heard that voice, Mr. Potter?" Bryan did not rush to express his opinion, but reconfirmed with a serious tone.

    "That''s true, Professor Watson¡ª" Hermione nodded cautiously, "Harry, Ron and I were always together at those times, but apart from Harry, neither Ron nor I noticed anything unusual."

    Bryan nodded knowingly. He carefully recalled the distance from the basement to the third floor. Under the eager gaze of the two young wizards, he said slowly, "If I guess correctly, the creature that made that voice should be a snake¨C"

    "A snake!" Harry eximed in disbelief, while Hermione showed a look of enlightenment, as if she had just solved a puzzle. Professor Watson''s simple guess broke through the fog that had been clouding their minds for so long.

    "Yes, it must be so, Harry!" Hermione jumped up from her chair with excitement, her face was flushed with blood, and her fingertips were trembling because of being too agitated,

    "Everything makes sense now. Only you can hear that sound, of course, Harry, because you are a Parselmouth, and no one but you can understand what a snake hisses really means!"

    "But!"

    Harry retorted as Hermione''s words sparked another question in his mind, "At that time, there were only a lot of ghosts in the basement and corridor besides the three of us. If there was a snake there, how could it hide itself in the wall without being seen by anyone?" He looked at the wall skeptically, trying to find any signs of a hidden passage or a secret door.

    "Not necessarily," Hermione''s words made Harry frown slightly, and she replied hesitantly, "If the snake is small enough or flexible enough, maybe it can squeeze itself through the cracks in the bricks or pipes, or it has some special abilities, like being able to pass through solid objects, after all, normal snakes don''t have the power to petrify anyone, Harry!" She gestured with her hands to illustrate her point, but she was not very confident about her guess.

    Hermione''s guess was usible, but it was only a spection. They needed more evidence to prove it.

    "As long as anything has existed in this world, no matter how careful or secretive it is, it will definitely leave some traces behind¡ª"

    Bryan smiled and stood up from his chair. He felt a surge of excitement when he finally had something to investigate. He waved his wand and swiftly gathered all the scattered letters on the ground and the table into a neat pile. He looked at Harry and Hermione with a gleam in his eyes, "Let''s go to the scene of the crime again, maybe we can find some interesting clues that others have missed!"

    The castle was not very crowded at this time of the day. Most of the wizards were either busy with their homework in themon room or enjoying a game of Wizard Chess or Gobstone with their friends. The corridors were quiet and empty, except for the asional portraits that whispered or snored on the walls.

    When they passed the second floor, they saw Filch yelling and threatening two little first-year wizards who had spilled some muddy water on the floor. He warned them that they would be chained up and hung in his office if they didn''t clean it up properly. His face was twisted with anger and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets. The two young wizards were trembling with fear and holding their mops nervously.

    Bryan kindly intervened and helped the two terrified wizards. He waved his wand and cleaned up the mess in an instant. He smiled gently at them and said, "There''s no need to be so harsh on the young ones, Filch¡ª"

    Facing Filch, who looked resentful but didn''t dare to resist a professor''s order, Bryan continued, "It won''t be long before Professor Sprout''s mandrakes are ready to be harvested, and your beloved Mrs. Norris will be back to health soon¡ª" He patted Filch''s shoulder sympathetically and led Harry and Hermione away from him.

    The three of them came to a dark and empty corridor leading to the basement near the hall. There was only a faint lighting from the crack between the wall and the floor, where some candle wax remained from a row of ck candles that Nick had ced there when he held his deathday party. The air was cold and damp, and they could smell a faint odor of decay.

    "I was standing right here at that time¡ª"

    Harry still remembered vividly what had happened that night more than four months ago. He quickly brought Hermione and Professor Watson to the middle of the corridor, pointing to the wall, he said, "That voice came out of the wall, then moved up along the ceiling, and finally led us to the third floor!" His voice echoed in the empty space, making him shiver slightly.

    Bryan lit up his wand, and his eyes followed Harry''s guidance on the surface of the wall. After examining it for a while, he nodded and said, "It seems that we need to open up this wall to have a closer look." He sounded curious and eager.

    "Open up the wall?!"

    Hermione gasped with disbelief. She looked at Bryan with astonishment and concern. She wondered if he was serious or joking. She knew that opening up a wall in Hogwarts was not an easy task. It might trigger some magical defenses or rms.

    "Of course, Miss Granger, otherwise how would we find out how the snake was able to swim inside the wall¡ª" Bryan said in a casual tone, and he raised his wand effortlessly. After making a few gestures in the air, apanied by a few shes of light, the hard wall was easily cut open like soft cheese.

    And when the things behind the wall were exposed to the air, all their doubts were answered.

    It was a pipe! Behind the rock wall, moldy pipes emitted a disgusting stench. If they listened carefully, they could hear the sound of running water. The pipe was thick enough for a person to crawl inside. It was covered with slime and dirt, and there were some scratches and dents on its surface.

    "I always thought the wall was solid." Harry muttered, stunned. He felt a wave of nausea as he looked at the pipe. He wondered how a snake could live in such a filthy ce.

    "The problem is now clear!"

    Hermione turned pale, "I can''t imagine how thick and long a snake can be to fit in such arge pipe!" She clutched her chest, feeling a surge of fear. She remembered the petrified students and the message on the wall. She realized that they were dealing with a very dangerous creature.

    "There are still many problems to be solved, Miss Granger," Bryan squinted his eyes. He jumped onto the broken wall and carefully examined the thick pipe. After a while, he ced his wand in his palm and said, "Homenum Lumispedio!" A bright beam of light shot out from his wand and entered the pipe. It moved along the pipe, illuminating its interior.

    Bryan smiled and said, "This is a spell that can detect any traces of human or animal activity in a certain area. It can show us where the snake came from and where it went." He gestured for Harry and Hermione to join him.

    Author''s Note: ''Homenum Lumispedio!'' is abination of a fan-made spell and the canon''s ''homenum revelio'' spell that allows the caster to track the movement and location of both people and animals.

    /FicFrenzy

 069 Discoveries and Incongruities

    069 Discoveries and Incongruities

    The wand in Bryan''s palm suddenly began to spin rapidly like a windmill, and kept in this state without stopping. It was as if an invisible force was pulling it in different directions, making it impossible to control.

    "What does this mean, Professor Watson!" Hermione eximed, her voice trembling with anxiety. She looked nervously at Bryan, who was holding his wand with a tight grip, and then at the small section of exposed water pipe that was barely visible in the dim light of the corridor.

    "This means," Bryan said calmly, his eyes narrowing as he gazed at the metal pipe, "that Szar Slytherin has imposed so many powerful spells on his Chamber of Secrets and that snake, including preventing positioning. This made my n to find this secret room directly through magice to naught. To be honest, this matter is quite troublesome. Hogwarts Castle has gone through thousands of years, and no one knows what happened to the sewer pipes in the castle. How many times have they been rebuilt, modified, or even abandoned? Maybe even the original design drawings of the castle have been lost now."

    Bryan''s words made Harry and Hermione feel a surge of disappointment. They had hoped that this would be their breakthrough in solving the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets. Ever since the incident started, they had been trying to find clues and evidence, but they had always hit a dead end.

    In the darkness, Harry frowned and stared at the water pipe. For some reason, ever since he was in the office just now, when Professor Watson guessed that the sound he had heard all this time was made by a snake, he had always felt a slight sense of incongruity. It was as if he had forgotten something important, something that could help them crack the case.

    "Then what should we do now, Professor," Hermione asked worriedly, not noticing Harry''s strange silence. She was always eager to learn and help, and she hated feeling helpless and clueless.

    "Do we need to tell Headmaster Dumbledore about this discovery?"

    "Not for now, Miss Granger¨C" Bryan rejected her proposal without hesitation. He was joking when he said that he did not necessarily have to be the first to discover the secret room, but he did want to be ahead of Dumbledore Otherwise, when Dumbledore took away the magical creature in the chamber, what would he use to report? He also wanted to get somemission for his efforts.

    Bryan jumped off half of the wall that he had sted open earlier, and waved his wand to restore it to its original shape. He did not want to leave any traces of their intrusion.

    "The pipes inside the walls are connected to the sewage treatment system of the entire castle. Unless there is no other way, I try not to drill into the pipes one by one to search for them under the bubble-head charm. That would be too time-consuming and unpleasant. In the next few days, I n to go around the library more and see if I can find some useful information. First, I want to find out what species the snake in the secret room is, and second, I want to see if I can find the architectural drawings of Hogwarts Castle when it was first built. Although there is a high probability that the location of the secret room will not be marked on the blueprints, but at least through some clues, maybe I can narrow down its approximate location."

    "Is there anything I can do to help, Professor Watson?" Hermione asked expectantly. She loved reading and researching, and she felt that this was an opportunity for her to prove her skills and intelligence.

    "Of course, Miss Granger¨C" Bryan led them to the first floor, and when he heard her question, he smiled warmly. He appreciated her enthusiasm and curiosity. "I heard from other professors that finding the key information from the vast amount of text is your specialty, Miss Granger. You can participate in the two tasks I just mentioned, but I try not to take up your usual study time. You still have your sses and homework to attend to. If I can''t find the answer before next Saturday, you cane to the library and help me out then¨C"

    Ron had missed all this excitement because of the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical ss in the second half of Friday. He had been bitten by an eight-eyed spider that Professor Watson had brought in as a demonstration of how to deal with dark creatures. He had spent almost two full days on the bed in the dormitory, recovering from the venom and pain.

    "I''m beginning to agree with Malfoy''s evaluation of Professor Watson, Harry¨C" Ron said weakly, staring at the curtains of his four-poster bed with a resentful expression. "Who would a normal person carry that kind of thing with them, and show the little wizards how to deal with that terrible dark creature? That should be an Auror''s job!"

    Harry had told him everything that happened tonight, hoping to cheer him up a bit. But Ron seemed to be more envious than impressed. His eyes shed with longing, and he hurriedly asked,

    "Did Professor Watson tell you in detail how to hide the magic power in your eyes?"

    Harry felt a surge of annoyance at Ron''s thick-headedness. He said impatiently, "It must not be a simple magic, Ron, even a genius like Professor Watson, who designed the magic himself, must have took quite a while to master it. Do you think he would just tell me how to do it in a few minutes?"

    Ron curled his lips, looked at Seamus, Neville and Dean who were chatting andughing together on their beds, and said in a more serious tone, "Look, Harry, I don''t think you have to worry so much about that old madman Slytherin and his chamber. Whatever snake he hid in there, it won''t dare toe out as long as Professor Breen is still in school. He''ll protect us from any monster. And once Colin and Justin recover from their petrification, this whole thing will blow over "

    Harry frowned and whispered,

    "I''m not saying that Professor Watson''s theory is wrong, Ron. He''s probably right about the snake traveling through the pipes and only I can hear its voice because I can speak Parseltongue. But there''s something that doesn''t add up. Something that I''ve overlooked. And I wish Professor Watson could find the chamber before the Board of Trustees forces him to leave Hogwarts. Because if that monster ever attacks again, who will stop it then?"

    As Harry said this, a sudden sh of insight struck him. He remembered something that he had seen in Tom Riddle''s memory, something that contradicted Professor Watson''s theory. He jumped out of his bed and ran to his desk, where he rummaged through his schoolbag for Riddle''s notebook.

    He had suddenly remembered something. He had actually seen the monster in the Chamber of Secrets, in the memory that Tom Riddle had shown him! It was a huge, hairy creature, with tangled ck legs, many shining eyes, and two pincers as sharp as knives. In any case, the thing did not look like a snake at all.

    How could that be? Was Riddle lying to him? Or was there more than one monster in the chamber? When he opened the notebook, Harry raised his eyebrows and looked serious.

    Professor Watson''s conjecture didn''t sound like a problem. It perfectly exined why no one could hear that terrifying voice except him. And moving through the pipes was a clever way for the monster to avoid detection.

    But the unknown past that Riddle revealed to him also had an irrefutable fact. That was, after Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts, there were no more attacks in the school. Even Riddle himself had received a special award from the school for his contribution.

    "Harry, I think you''d better throw this notebook away. I always feel that this Tom Riddle is a bit evil¨C" Ron, who was sitting on the bed, frowned and watched Harry spread the notebook on the table. He then picked up the quill and dipped it in ink.

    "Don''t be silly, Ron. Riddle''s memory tells us something very valuable, doesn''t it?" Harry said without turning his head. Almost the moment the ink dripped onto the book, it immediately disappeared into the nk paper. Then an elegant handwriting appeared.

    "¨CHello, Harry Potter. I thought that after knowing the truth about the Chamber of Secrets incident, you had forgotten me in a corner of the bookshelf. And what awaited me was another fifty years of darkness. Don''t you think Hagrid should stay in this school? Have you told anyone else the truth about what I remember?"

    Harry blushed slightly, but he didn''t have time to exchange pleasantries with Riddle. He went straight to the point and told him what he had found out tonight.

    "¨CRiddle, do you think you made a mistake? In my opinion, Professor Watson''s guess is more reasonable. Besides, I didn''t see the monster you showed me in your memory. But it''s obviously not a snake."

    This time, the notebook didn''t immediately answer Harry''s question. It seemed that what Harry said also caused it to fall into confusion. The paper remained nk for two minutes. Then a messy handwriting appeared.

    "Can you tell me more about that Professor Watson?"

    /FicFrenzy

 70 Discussions

    70 Discussions

    As the clock struck noon on Monday, Harry sat at the long dining table in the Great Hall with a gloomy face. He had no appetite for the delicious food that was piled up in front of him. There were hills of syrupy fruit pies, grilled eels, roast beef, andmb chops, all steaming hot and tempting. But Harry could only think of the weird imitation that Draco Malfoy had done of him in the corridor, mocking his obsession with the mysterious notebook.

    "Seriously, Harry!" said Ron, who was sitting next to him, looking at him worriedly. His red hair was messy and his face was freckled with dirt from the herbology ss. "I think you might have been out of your mind with that notebook, otherwise, how dare you take off your earmuffs when you were taking care of the mandrakes?"

    In the herbology ss that morning, Professor Sprout had arranged for them to help some mandrakes that were growing well into brighter flowerpots. The mandrakes were baby nts with human faces that screamed when they were pulled out of the soil. The students had to wear earmuffs to protect their ears from the piercing sound. Harry didn''t know what he was thinking, but he took off his earmuffs directly in the middle of the task.

    The consequences of doing so were self-evident. The screams of dozens of pots of mandrakes that were about to grow into adulthood directly caused Harry to fall headlong into the field ridge. He felt a sharp pain in his head and saw stars in front of his eyes. Professor Sprout was startled by this unexpected scene. She cried out and almost fainted. She rushed to Harry''s side and put arge chocte bar in his mouth to revive him.

    "It''s really suspicious, Harry¨C"

    Hermione nced at Professor Watson with two big ck eyes hanging on the staff table. He was a tall and thin man with a long beard and a pointed hat. He was chatting animatedly with Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall, who were both heads of houses. Hermione frowned and looked at Harry.

    "Why do you think a book is The notebooks that have been kept in a dark environment for fifty years are more reasonable than Professor Watson''s spection?"

    Harry couldn''t lie to himself that his poor state this morning had nothing to do with that notebook. It was an old diary that belonged to someone named Tom Riddle, who had witnessed a series of attacks at Hogwarts fifty years ago. Harry had found it in Moaning Myrtle''s bathroom, where he had also heard a strange voice that no one else could hear. Riddle''s diary had shown him a memory of how he had caught Hagrid keeping a monster in the school and how he had used him of killing a girl in the bathroom.

    Riddle''s memory insisted that it was the monster Hagrid kept that he couldn''t name that killed the girl fifty years ago. He also imed that Headmaster Dippet was wiser than Dumbledore. He said that they had confirmed his usation and expelled Hagrid from school.

    Riddle thought that the voice Harry had heard in Professor Lockhart''s office and Mrs. Norris''s attack before he was attacked might just be an ordinary snake hunting in the water pipe. He said that snakes weremon in old castles like Hogwarts and that they could not petrify people like the monster could.

    "-Headmaster Dippet is wiser than Dumbledore. Harry, the Ministry of Magic was more objective than it is now. If they hadn''t confirmed this, how could they have easily expelled a young wizard from school?"

    Ron and Hermione looked at each other. Judging from the results of the series of attacks fifty years ago, Riddle was undoubtedly correct, but emotionally speaking, they would rather believe in Professor Watson''s guess.

    "Let''s put this aside, Harry."

    Hermione said with a frown.

    "By this weekend, I can go to the library with Professor Watson to look for more information¡­ If I can find something that can kill people, and can Petrifying snake, Harry, I think it''s time for you to hand over your notes!"

    She meant Riddle''s diary, which Harry had hidden under his pillow in his dormitory. He didn''t want to give it up because he felt a strange connection with it. He wanted to know more about Riddle and his secrets.

    "Are you guys discussing this afternoon''s practical lesson?"

    This is when Neville stuck his chubby head over from behind them. He had a round face and a nervous expression. His eyes were full of worry. "Oh, damn it, I forgot about it!"

    Hermione once again looked at the top of the auditorium, where Professor Watson was still talking with the other teachers. She mmed the table down with her fist, making a loud noise that startled everyone around them. Even Harry gasped.

    He knew what she was talking about. It was the practical lesson that Bryan had arranged for them. Bryan was a young and handsome wizard who imed to be a frencer. He had offered to teach the students some practical skills in defense against the dark arts, since Professor Lockhart was useless at it.

    Because the number of young wizards voluntarily participating in practical sses had decreased significantly, Bryan first spent half of the Monday afternoon Defense Against the Dark Arts ss telling the first and second grade little wizards that some ancient wizards like to explore unknown magical relics and that they often encountered dangers and traps in the ruins. He also told them what methods the ck wizards outside usually use when poisoning people, such as cursed objects, dark spells, or venomous creatures. He showed them some examples of these things and how to deal with them.

    In the remaining half of the time, he led a group of little wizards to a ssroom on the eighth floor of the castle, where he had prepared a special challenge for them. He said that he had hidden a inferi in one of the closets and that they had to find it and destroy it before it attacked them.

    A inferi was a dead body that had been reanimated by dark magic. It had no mind or soul, but it could move and attack with brute force. It was very hard to kill, since it felt no pain or fear. The only way to stop it was to burn it or cut off its head.

    "Do you think that a ''frencer'' who runs errands for people, finds potion ingredients, and delivers goods will know the habits of ck wizards so well?" Seamus whispered to Dean on the way to the eighth floor.

    He was a boy with sandy hair and a broad ent. He looked suspicious of Bryan''s background and motives.

    "I have an uncle who used to be an Auror, but he retired due to injury¨C"

    Dean''s tone and expression were very mysterious,

    "He once told me that there is a group of people who are not employees of the Ministry of Magic, but who make a living by arresting dark wizards. These people are called bounty hunters in private. He was a wizard hunter who hunted dark wizards before!"

    Dean''s deduction won the approval of many people, who nodded their heads in agreement or gasped in awe. Even Hermione, who was usually skeptical and rational, blinked her eyes with a thoughtful expression, as if she was considering the possibility of Dean''s im.

    "Except for this, there is no reasonable exnation!"

    Ron, who had already decided to withdraw from the practical ss after thest terrifying experience, said to Harry seriously, with a hint of admiration and envy in his voice.

    "I have indeed heard from my father that the Ministry of Magic sometimes cooperates with some unofficial special personnel. They fight against dark wizards, smugglers and other bad guys together, they are a group of powerful guys, but they don''t like to be restrained by rules, so they didn''t choose to join the Ministry of Magic¨C"

    Although Bryan, who was at the forefront, didn''t look back, but the powerful magic power endowed him with keen five senses, and he heard all the whispers of the little wizards in his ears.

    Bounty hunter? Bryan smiled in his heart, amused by their naive guesses. He was not a bounty hunter who attacked a dark wizard, but a ''dark'' wizard who was attacked by a bounty hunter.

    "Then¡ª" standing in front of the oak door that led to the maze in the ssroom, Bryan turned around and looked at the little wizards with serious expressions. He scanned their faces one by one and read their names aloud, making sure that they remembered his instructions.

    "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott, Ginny Weasley, Michael Corner, ise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Eloise Midgen, Terry Boot. The students whose names I have read are in pairs and enter the maze in the ssroom in order."

    Bryan looked at the bluish-faced Potter and Malfoy and said with a smile, "This maze has a memory function. I have recorded the progress of yourst challenge, I hope you can seize thisst chance. By the way, if someone can kill the dark creatures in the maze, I will add fifty points to his academy!"

    Gulu!

    Harry swallowed hard, feeling his throat dry. There was finally something more in his green eyes besides fear. Throughout his student life, a little wizard could have a few chances to win fifty points for his college. Many little wizards would never get so many points from the first grade to the seventh grade!

    Hermione obviously became anxious. She suddenly discovered one thing: that is, after leaving the textbooks and materials behind, her on-the-spot adaptability seemed to be far from her own satisfaction. She wished she had studied more about dark creatures and how to deal with them.

    Harry and Draco reluctantly stood together again. Last time, Harry''s self-sacrificing spirit did make Draco calm down for a few days, but this feeling didn''tst long. Draco seemed to think that Harry''s behavior was a kind of contempt for him, which made him spare no effort to mock Harry recently!

    "It''s different this time, Potter!"

    Draco said to Harry aggressively as he entered the door. He took out a silver dagger from his pocket. It looked like it was from his usual Potions ss where he used it to process potion ingredients.

    "If you beg me, maybe I''ll be merciful and save your lifeter!" Draco had privately asked Professor Watson for advice on the ''Upgraded Spell'' and Harry had heard about it from other students. It seemed that he did have some insight into that spell.

    "Are you sure you gave us any hints, Professor Watson?"

    Begging Malfoy to protect himself?

    This was more painful for Harry than killing him. He looked pitifully at Professor Watson hoping to get some confidence from him but unfortunately Professor Watson was still smiling calmly and had no intention of saying another word.

    Harry''s brow twitched. The first time he entered the maze Professor Watson seemed to be smiling like this too. He reminded him that it was very dark in the maze and to be careful not to fall.

    Wait a minute dark? Harry suddenly widened his eyes as if he had thought of something!

    /FicFrenzy

 071 The Thief

    071 The Thief

    Just five minutester, Harry burst out of the ssroom with a triumphant whoop, while Malfoy trailed behind him with a sullen face, dragging his feet as if he had lost all his energy. Harry''s eyes sparkled with joy and his heart pounded with adrenaline. He had done it, he had solved the riddle and defeated the inferi!

    "I did it, professor, I did it!" As soon as he left the ssroom, Harry sprinted to Professor Watson, who had already sensed his sess and was waiting for him with a proud smile. Harry shouted excitedly, "I understood your hint, professor, it was really simple, I just used a small spell to get rid of them!"

    "How did you do it, Harry!" Hermione was the first to recover from the stunned state that had gripped her and the other students. She ran to Harry''s side, her fingers trembling with excitement and curiosity.

    "Very good, Potter!" Bryan smiled with relief and admiration. He pped Harry on the shoulder and said, "The method is secondary, the most important thing is that you overcame your inner fear, this is a very remarkable thing. You are undoubtedly the winner, Potter, I will give Gryffindor fifty points, and also," Bryan looked at Draco with a smile, who was a bit neglected and looked like he wanted to disappear. "It''s not that important whether you finish the final kill or not. Facing the dangerous dark creatures, you didn''t choose to escape, but gathered courage to draw your sword. This is also very remarkable, Malfoy. You also won thirty points for Slytherin!"

    Anyway, Harry and Draco had done something that most people didn''t do. They had faced the inferi without losing their nerve or their wits. The young wizards gave them admiring cheers and apuse. Ron happily threw Harry''s backpack into the air, not caring about the textbooks that fell out of it. Harry grinned and smiled very happily. He didn''t look resentful at all that Ron had messed up his belongings.

    Draco''s face was not so bad either. He was surrounded by Slytherin''s young wizards who congratted him and patted him on the back. He quietly looked at Professor Watson who was also smiling at him kindly. Draco shyly pursed his lips and lowered his proud head. He felt a rare warmth in his chest.

    No one noticed that Ginny''s face turned pale when she saw the books that flew out of Harry''s backpack. Her body stiffened and her eyes widened in horror.

    Finally, except for Harry''s group, no one else came up with the trick to defeat the inferi. However,pared to the first time they faced the inferi in the maze, the young wizards'' mental state seemed fine. They didn''t faint or scream like they did when they came out of the maze for the first time. Bryan used magic to fix Neville''s robe that had been torn by an inferi.

    He stood at the oak door of the ssroom and gave each student whosted until the end ten points for their house. At this moment, the magic contract that had bound them to face the inferi hadpletely lost its effect. He could finally tell the young wizards how to deal with the inferi.

    "¨CThis is a very evil and morally challenging dark magic creation. When thousands of inferi gather into a huge army of death, they can indeed cause us a lot of trouble. But when the number is limited, it is very easy to deal with," Bryan looked at Harry who already knew the answer and smiled and asked, "How many of you noticed Mr. Potter''s reminder before he entered the ssroom for the first time?"

    "Dark creatures mostly don''t like light¨C" Hermione muttered and pped her forehead. She realized it right away, "It''s fire, isn''t it, professor? Like devil''s snare, inferi like darkness and dampness. We just need a fire spell to deal with them!"

    Because of the hundred points that Harry and his group got, the gap between Gryffindor and Slytherin was not as big as before. This made Gryffindor have a chance to win the house cup again this year. At dinner time, Professor McGonagall came over to ask about the second-year students'' course selection situation. She also walked to Harry''s side and gave him an encouraging smile. The senior students all knew what inferi were. It was indeed an amazing achievement for a second-year student to ovee inferi with his own wisdom and courage.

    That night, Gryffindormon room held a grand celebration party. Fred and George brought a lot of butterbeer from Hogsmeade. Harry liked this mild alcoholic drink very much. It had a sweet and creamy taste that made him feel warm and rxed. Unconsciously, he drank too much in the admiring crowd. He felt his cheeks flush and his head spin. He didn''t mind, he was having the best time of his life.

    Professor Watson''s hint was obvious enough, but she still couldn''t think of inferi being afraid of fire. Hermione was annoyed by this. She felt like she had missed a golden opportunity to show her brilliance and impress her professor. She retaliated by bringing several thick books about inferi from the library during the celebration party. She sat on the sofa near the firece and read them sullenly, ignoring the cheerful noise around her. She hoped to find some obscure facts or secrets about inferi that no one else knew.

    "Congrattions on another great achievement, Harry¨C" At the end of the party, Wood squeezed in front of Harry who was surrounded by people and toasted him with his cup. He looked at Harry with admiration and gratitude. But before Harry could show a shy smile, he added, "I think you haven''t forgotten that this Saturday is our match against Hufflepuff, have you, Harry?"

    "Burp¨Cof course not," Harry let out a big hup. He felt dizzy and tipsy from drinking too much butterbeer. If it weren''t for Ron''s support, he might not be able to stand on his own. He slurred his words and said, "I promise you I''ll do my best, Wood!"

    "You only need to promise me one thing, Harry," Harry''s casualness made Wood a bit unhappy. He said with a serious face, "That is to win the match and send those Hufflepuff idiots back to their home!" He clenched his fist and red at Harry as if he was expecting him to swear an oath.

    "Oh, my God!" Fred and George were about to help Harry say something. They wanted to tell Wood to rx and not put too much pressure on Harry. At this time, Percy, who had just finished his patrol duty, came in from the round hole behind the Fat Lady''s portrait. When he saw the mess in themon room, he first showed an incredulous expression. Then he yelled at everyone, "Isn''t it too early to celebrate Easter, everyone? If you haven''t mixed up the days, you should know that tomorrow is Tuesday, a day when you need to go to ss!"

    "Don''t be such a killjoy, Percy!" George waved his empty bottle unhappily in front of Percy''s face. He sshed some butterbeer on Percy''s sses. "Today Harry and his group almost won a hundred points for Gryffindor. We''re just celebrating the house cup in advance!"

    "Clean up this ce and go back to bed, right now!" Percy didn''t seem to hear George''s exnation. He red at everyone who had eye contact with him. "Even if Gryffindor wins the house cup for the next ten years, that''s not an excuse for you to break the rules!" He pointed at the bottles, cups, tes, and food scraps that littered the floor and tables.

    In the next few days, Harry didn''t have a good time. First of all, Professor Snape certainly didn''t like to see Harry make a name for himself in this school. In Tuesday afternoon''s potions ss, he was more vicious than usual in deducting points from Gryffindor. Harry, Hermione and Neville lost almost half of the points they earned in the defense against the dark arts practical ss. He mocked Harry''s swelling potion for being able to poison a dragon. He said it was so bad that it could make anyone who drank it explode like a balloon. To make Harry remember his failure, he asked Harry''s homework to be half longer than Slytherin''s students. He also threatened to give him detention if he didn''t finish it by tomorrow.

    Also, Oliver Wood officially entered the pre-match warm-up stage. Every afternoon after school, he didn''t even wait for dinner time. He dragged all the team members out and took them to the pitch to practice until the moon was almost in the middle of the sky before letting them go. He made them do drills, exercises, tactics, and simtions over and over again. He shouted at them whenever they made a mistake or slowed down. He was obsessed with winning the match and beating Hufflepuff. Fred and George told Harry privately that ording to Wood''s training method, let alone Hogwarts'' Quidditch Cup, as long as they persisted for another two months, they could also y in the World Cup. They said it jokingly, but they also looked exhausted and sore from Wood''s harsh regime.

    However, this also proved from the side that Gryffindor team was confident about winning this year. They knew they had a strong team with talented yers like Harry, Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and Wood himself. They also knew that Hufflepuff was not as formidable as Slytherin or Ravenw. They had a good chance of winning if they yed their best.

    During this period, something disturbing happened. On Wednesday night, when Harry came back from practice, he saw Neville running out of the dormitory with a panic on his face. His eyes were wide with fear and his mouth was trembling. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

    "Harry¨CI don''t know who did it, I just found out¨C" Neville looked at Harry with horror and pushed open the door. He gestured for Harry to follow him inside.

    The things in Harry''s trunk were thrown everywhere. His clothes were lying on the floor, some of them ripped or stained. The sheets were torn off his four-poster bed and the mattress was flipped over. The drawers of his bedside table were pulled open and the things inside were scattered on the mattress. Harry opened his mouth in surprise and stepped on a few pages that fell out of "Travels with Trolls". He felt a surge of anger and confusion. Who would do such a thing? And why?

    When he and Neville put the sheets back on the bed, Ron, Seamus and Dean also came in. They had heard Neville''s scream and came to see what was wrong. When they saw this scene, Dean shouted, "What happened, Harry?" He looked around the room with shock and disbelief. He couldn''t believe that someone had ransacked Harry''s belongings.

    "I don''t know¨C" Harry shook his head and tried to calm himself down. He searched for his most important items: his wand, his invisibility cloak, and his parent''s photo album. He was relieved to find them all intact and safe. But he still wondered what the intruder was looking for. And how they had managed to get past the Fat Lady and into the dormitory.

    "It looks like someone was looking for something!" Ron said with a serious expression. He furrowed his brows and clenched his jaw. He scanned the room for any clues or signs of the intruder. "I''m sure it wasn''t Galleons, Harry. Check if anything is missing?"

    It didn''t take much effort for Harry to find out that Riddle''s diary was gone. He remembered that he had left it in his trunk, opposite his invisibility cloak. But now, there was no trace of the ck leather-bound book. He felt a pang of fear and regret. He had hoped to use the diary to find out more about the Chamber of Secrets and the Heir of Slytherin. But now, it was in someone else''s hands. Someone who might use it for evil purposes.

    When he told Hermione about it the next day, Hermione''s expression was not much better than Neville''sst night. She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. She looked at Harry with horror and disbelief. She wondered who could have taken it and why.

    "But¨Conly Gryffindors could have stolen it. I mean, no one else knows the password." She said with a puzzled frown. She tried to think of anyone in their house who would have a motive or a grudge against Harry. She couldn''te up with any names.

    "It''s not impossible that Malfoy finally figured out how to make Polyjuice Potion from Snape," Ron said with a puffed cheek. He red at Harry as if he med him for losing the diary. "Have any of you lost any hairtely?" He asked suspiciously, touching his own red hair.

    "Compared to Malfoy¨C" Harry said worriedly, cutting off Ron''s usation. He shook his head and said, "I think this is more like Dobby''s doing." He recalled how the house-elf had tried to stop him froming back to Hogwarts, how he had stolen his letters and smashed Aunt Petunia''s pudding. He also remembered how Dobby had warned him about the Chamber of Secrets and the danger that awaited him there. He wondered if Dobby really had taken the diary to protect him from ''harm'', or if he had some other agenda.

    Author''s Note: Butterbeer is a alcoholic or non-alcoholic drink is debatable. But, I think it may contain some percentage of alcohol, so harry got a little wobbly after drinkingrge amount of butterbeer.

    The butterbeer may also have been added ''somethings'' by the Weasley twins.

    /FicFrenzy

 072 Sudden Attack

    072 Sudden Attack

    The staff lounge was a spacious and cozy room, furnished withfortable sofas, armchairs, tables, and bookshelves. It was usually a ce where the Hogwarts teachers could rx, chat, or read after a long day of teaching. But on that particr Friday evening, the lounge was almost deserted, except for two figures who stood in the middle of an empty space, surrounded by various magical objects and instruments.

    One of them was Bryan, the mysterious and powerful Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who had joined Hogwarts a few months ago. He was a tall and handsome man, with dark brown hair and piercingvender eyes. He wore a ck cloak over his casual clothes, and held a silver wand in his right hand. He had a confident and charismatic aura about him, but also a hint of danger and mystery.

    The other one was Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher and the head of Ravenw house. He was a short and elderly man, with a white beard and a pointed hat. He had a high-pitched voice and a cheerful personality. He was one of the most respected and skilled teachers in Hogwarts, and he had taken a keen interest in Bryan''s abilities and adventures.

    They were working on a special project that Bryan had proposed: creating realistic illusions and models of various dark creatures that could be used for training purposes. Bryan had encountered many dangerous beings in his travels around the world, and he wanted to share his knowledge and experience with the students. Professor Flitwick agreed to help him with the charm work, as he was an expert in that field.

    "I''m not as good at this kind of spell as Minerva, Bryan. If you want to make things more realistic, I think you''d better ask Minerva for advice!" Professor Flitwick said in his squeaky voice, with a look of embarrassment on his face. He pointed at a chair that they had been trying to transform into a werewolf.

    "You know, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall has always disapproved of me using these things to scare the students. In my opinion, she is unlikely to offer any help in this regard¨C" Bryan scratched his head in frustration, pondered for a moment, and waved his wand. He adjusted the rhythm of the magic input, and added two magic transmission corridors on the basis of the original creation foundation. The chair in the middle of the two changed its shape gradually. The seat bent upwards, and two of its four legs turned into arms, and two into legs. In no time, a tall man with strong muscles and a gloomy face appeared in the staff lounge.

    Facing the man that Bryan had transformed, Professor Flitwick did notment immediately, but patiently continued to watch.

    Bryan continued to move his wand, and with the input of magic, the man''s appearance began to change dramatically. His straight back began to hunch over, his smooth skin grew ck, coarse and hard hair like a wild boar''s bristles, his square face gradually turned into a cone shape, his white and neat teeth became uneven, his canine teeth more sharp, his eyes more sinister. He exuded a bloody aura all over his body.

    "Very good, Bryan. At least I wouldn''t have known if I hadn''t been informed beforehand. Oh, there''s a detail. The pupils of werewolves also shrink ordingly after transformation¨C" Professor Flitwick said in admiration.

    "Oh, thank you!" Bryan said gratefully. He shook the tip of his wand and adjusted this subtle detail. He controlled this ''werewolf'' to walk around the staff dormitory, making defensive postures when threatened and attacking movements when hunting.

    "How did you deal with this werewolf who wanted to attack you, Bryan?" Professor Flitwick asked curiously. He climbed onto a table agilely and watched Bryan adjust the details of the ''werewolf'' with great interest.

    "I don''t think you had a silver dagger with you at that time, did you?" He added.

    "You guessed it right, Professor Flitwick?" Bryan smiled lightly. He crossed his arms over his chest and dug into his mind for details of the werewolf''s body movements.

    "It wasn''t that troublesome. There were more than a dozen werewolves who wanted to trouble me at that time. I used abination spell to attach magic fire simr to Fiendfyre on metal spears made from stones and pierced them directly into their hearts. This cut off the werewolves'' powerful physical recovery ability from the source. None of those guyssted more than half a minute under this magic and they all turned into ashes. In fact, there are many spells that work on them, but some spells might cause trouble for me if I use them. I was younger then, and the Ministry''s strict orders still had some effect on me." Bryan said casually, as if he was talking about a trivial matter.

    "Bryan¨C" Professor Flitwick said in awe. He imagined the scene of Bryan ughtering this group of ferocious werewolves in his mind. He shuddered nervously several times. Before he could continue to ask, the door of the staff lounge was suddenly pushed open. A senior Ravenw girl rushed in with a terrified look.

    It was Percy''s girlfriend, Ravenw''s prefect Penelope Clearwater!

    Bryan waved his wand swiftly before the door opened and restored the werewolf to a chair. He stared at Penelope''s beautiful brown curly hair that was almost soaked by sweat and had a bad feeling in his heart.

    "Miss Clearwater, maybe you should exin why you broke into the staff lounge without knocking!"

    Professor Flitwick was a good-tempered person, but it was still embarrassing for him to see someone from his own house make such an impolite move in front of another professor. He frowned slightly and looked at the intruder.

    "Professor Flitwick, and Professor Watson¨C" Penelope stammered, trying to apologize. But before she could finish her sentence, she blurted out something that made both professors gasp in horror.

    "Another student has had an ident., huh, it''s the Chamber!" She cried out, clutching her chest.

    Professor Flitwick screamed in shock and almost fell off the table. He quickly jumped down and ran to Penelope, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her gently.

    "Miss Clearwater, calm down! What are you talking about? Who has been attacked? Where did it happen?" He asked urgently.

    Bryan''s eyes narrowed and he asked in a deep voice, "Please be more specific, Miss Clearwater. What is your source of information? Who was attacked? And what is the current status of the student who was attacked?"

    He had a bad feeling in his heart. He had been expecting this day toe sooner orter, but he still hoped that it would never happen. He hoped that he was wrong about his suspicions. He hoped that no one would have to suffer because of the heir of Slytherin''s madness.

    Penelope trembled and sobbed softly. Bryanforted her softly for a while before she calmed down slightly. She wiped her tears with her sleeve and told them what she knew.

    "¨CWe were having Transfiguration ss just now when Filch suddenly rushed into the ssroom and informed Professor McGonagall that another young wizard had been attacked. We followed him out and Filch took us to the ce where Mrs. Norris was attacked. There was a new line of words on the wall¨Cher bones will remain in the Chamber forever¨C"

    As she said this, Penelope cried uncontrobly. Professor Flitwick walked over and gently patted her back, encouraging her to continue.

    "Professor McGonagall conducted an emergency check and found that it was Percy''s sister, Ginny Weasley, a first-year Gryffindor student who had disappeared."

    Ginny Weasley? The little girl who looked a bit sickly and always seemed to have no energy a while ago? Bryan''s eyes were solemn, but why would it be her?

    "Bryan!" Professor Flitwick shouted, snapping him out of his thoughts.

    Bryan nodded, knowing what Professor Flitwick meant. He told Penelope not to run around in the castle alone, and to stay with the professors as much as possible. Then he rushed out of the staff lounge without looking back.

    When he came out, he found that almost all the students had already learned what had happened. Everyone''s face was full of fear and panic, as if a disaster was imminent.

    Bryan hurried to the third floor of the castle and found that Filch was driving away all the students who wanted to see the words for themselves. In the inner circle, Professor Snape was trying to erase the line of words. When he saw Bryan walking over quickly, he said in a low voice,

    "Dumbledore has already checked here and found nothing. Also, he found that someone had used a powerful freezing curse to freeze all your panoramic telescopes that monitor the situation. He wasn''t sure if your surveince could still record some valuable images under this situation."

    Bryan nodded, seemingly not surprised.

    "I''ll go and check itter. Those telescopes can form memories of the recorded images and automatically send them back to my office. I didn''t feel anyone breaking into my office. I think those images should still be saved."

    Now, the sky outside waspletely dark. Bryan stared at the darkness outside the window, feeling as if the castle was trapped in a prison. But he also felt a sense of relief that something he had been waiting for a long time had finally happened.

    The heir of Slytherin had finally started to act again, and this time, he didn''t just petrify a student, but directly kidnapped Ginny Weasley, Bill and Charlie''s sister. To be honest, Bryan had already sentenced this girl to death in his heart.

    It only takes one spell to take a person''s life. A few hours have passed, and maybe Ginny Weasley''s body has already cooled down.

    A bit of inexplicable anger surged from Bryan''s heart. In addition to being an investigator for the board of directors, he also held the title of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. The heir of Slytherin almost attacked his student in front of him, which made Bryan feel offended.

    "Where is Dumbledore now?" He asked Snape, hoping that the headmaster had some clues or ns to deal with this crisis.

    Bryan withdrew his gaze from the dark window and looked at Professor Snape again. He saw that his professor''s eyes were also flickering with some anxiety that was no different from the students''. Snape was a cold and sarcastic man, who rarely showed any emotion. But Bryan knew that he cared about the school and the headmaster, even if he didn''t admit it.

    "Lucius Malfoy invited the Ministry of Magic to intervene in this matter on behalf of the board of directors. They were amazingly efficient this time. He was talking with Cornelius Fudge in his office earlier. I heard they were going to take Hagrid away." Snape said in a low voice, with a hint of disdain.

    "Hagrid wasn''t proven innocent?" Bryan frowned. "Why are they still holding on to him?"

    "Only Dumbledore and we believe¨C" Snape pursed his thin lips and looked gloomy. "Cornelius Fudge is a weak person when faced with pressure. He muste up with something to help him resist public opinion!"

    Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, the highest authority in the wizarding world. He was a plump and pompous man, with a pinstriped suit, a lime-green bowler hat, and a long silver beard. He was also a cowardly and ipetent leader, who often ignored or denied the truth, and preferred to please the influential and wealthy people like Lucius Malfoy.

    Bryan''s eyes flickered, not knowing what he was thinking about. After a while, he said slowly,

    "I''d better go and see what Dumbledore is doing now."

    /FicFrenzy

 073 Panic

    073 Panic

    The Gryffindormon room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the asional sniffle. Percy covered his face with both hands and sat on the sofa without saying a word. He looked like he had aged ten years in a day. Fred and George, his twin brothers, sat opposite him, and they had no reaction to theirmon friend Lee Jordan''sfort. They stared nkly at the floor, their usual mischief and humor gone. They had just learned that their little sister Ginny had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets by the heir of Slytherin.

    Ron, another brother of Ginny, stayed by the firece with a pale face, his lips constantly mumbling, as if he had just had a serious illness. He clutched his wand tightly in his hand, as if it could bring him somefort. He felt guilty and helpless, wondering if he could have done something to prevent this tragedy.

    Beside him, Harry Potter shook his legs anxiously, and asionally looked at the door of themon room, as if waiting for something.

    "I found it!" Finally, the portrait of the Fat Lady opened, and Hermione Granger climbed out of the door hole panting, waving a note in her hand. She had been in the library for hours, searching for clues about the monster in the Chamber of Secrets. She nced at Ron who had no reaction, and Harry quickly got up from the chair and greeted Hermione''s answer.

    "¨CProfessor Watson''s guess was right,"

    Hermione''s orange eyes sparkled with a hard light. She stuffed the note into Harry''s hand without saying anything, and recited the contents of the note in a low voice, "In our country, there are many terrible beasts and monsters wandering around, among which the most bizarre and lethal is the basilisk, also known as the king of snakes. This snake can grow veryrge, usually living for hundreds of years.

    It is hatched from a rooster''s egg by a toad. The basilisk kills people in a shocking way. In addition to its deadly venomous fangs, its stare can also cause death. Anyone who is stared at by it will die immediately. Spiders will flee when they see the basilisk, because the basilisk is the spider''s mortal enemy. And the basilisk will flee when it hears the rooster''s crowing, because the rooster''s crowing is also very deadly to it¨C"

    The note was written by Newt Scamander, a famous magizoologist who had studied many fantastic creatures. Hermione had found it in one of his books in the restricted section of the library.

    "But¨C"

    Ron finally came to his senses. He moved his dry and pale lips and muttered, "So far, no one has died. If the basilisk''s gaze can kill people, what about Colin and Justin?"

    "That''s because no one has confronted the basilisk''s eyes¨C" Harry felt his stomach bubble in ice water. He twitched his cheeks and said softly, "Hagrid''s roosters were strangled to death. Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned the film in the camera, so Colin was only petrified. Justin was Nick. He must have seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick. Nick was stared at by the basilisk, but he couldn''t die a second time, right?"

    "And Mrs. Norris"

    Hermione said solemnly, "I guess she saw the basilisk from the reflection of water flowing out of Moaning Myrtle''s bathroom. Harry, I''m d you understand what''s going on. Riddle lied to you. The monster in the Chamber of Secrets is a basilisk, not some furry creature. Hagrid may be innocent!"

    Hermione''s conclusion made Harry pale. He stammered and didn''t know how to exin why Riddle''s memory would deceive him.

    "Let''s go find Hagrid!"

    After a while, Harry finally came to his senses. He said firmly, "Hagrid must know something. I don''t know why Riddle told us a wrong memory. Maybe he is the real culprit. But anyway, Hagrid must know some key information!"

    Professor McGonagall, the head of Gryffindor house and the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts, had ordered all young wizards to stay in themon room and not go out. Although Percy''s state was already unable to execute Professor McGonagall''s order, they didn''t know what was going on outside. Harry rushed to the dormitory to get his invisibility cloak.

    When they sneaked out of themon room, they found that there was no young wizard wandering in the castle. The corridor was silent, only apanied by professors patrolling up and down the castle. And the expressions on those professors'' faces also made them feel desperate.

    Was Ginny still alive? Why did the heir of Slytherin choose Ginny as the target of attack in the end? Hermione couldn''t answer this question either. In fact, Harry had a terrible picture shing in his mind at this moment. That was Ginny being found as a cold corpse, Mrs. Weasley lying on Ginny''s body and crying loudly, while Mr. Weasley squatted aside and pulled out his few hairs one by one!

    Regret tore Harry''s heart like a poisonous snake. He wished he had handed over Riddle''s diary to Professor Watson earlier, when he had first found it in Moaning Myrtle''s bathroom. Professor Watson was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who had a keen interest in the Chamber of Secrets and its monster. He had guessed that it was a snake that moved through pipes thatunched the attacks, based on the sound he had heard in his office. If he hadmunicated with Riddle''s diary instead of Harry, Harry would bet that Professor Watson would be able to dig out what secrets were hidden in Riddle''s mind!

    But it was toote now. Ginny Weasley, Ron''s younger sister and Harry''s friend, had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets by the heir of Slytherin, who had somehow used Riddle''s diary to control her. Harry felt responsible for her fate, and he was determined to find her and save her.

    It was a starry night. The moon shone brightly over the Hogwarts castle, casting long shadows on the grounds. Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran towards Hagrid''s hut, which was a small wooden house near the Forbidden Forest. They could see a faint lighting from Hagrid''s window, indicating that he was still awake. They hoped that he could tell them something useful about the Chamber of Secrets and its monster.

    They ran as fast as they could, without saying anything. They were careful not to make any noise or attract any attention. They knew that they were breaking the school rules by leaving themon room at night, but they didn''t care. They had more important things to worry about.

    They reached Hagrid''s door outside. Harry looked around cautiously before taking off his invisibility cloak. He had used it to cover himself and his friends, so that they could sneak past the professors who were patrolling the corridors. He folded it and put it in his pocket.

    He knocked on the door softly, hoping that Hagrid would hear him and open it quickly. He didn''t want to waste any time.

    A few secondster, Hagrid mmed the door open. They saw Hagrid holding a crossbow and aiming at them. He looked angry and scared at the same time. The big hound Fang barked loudly behind him, wagging his tail.

    Hagrid seemed very shocked that they would appear here. He looked restless, and his eyes darted around nervously. He lowered his crossbow and let them in, but he didn''t seem happy to see them.

    The inside of Hagrid''s hut was cozy and warm, but also messy and cluttered. There were various animal skins, bones, feathers, and eggs scattered around. There was a firece in one corner, where a kettle was boiling over. There was a table in another corner, where a cake was waiting to be cut.

    Hagrid moved some chairs for them to sit down, but he didn''t offer them any tea or cake. He seemed to have something else on his mind.

    "You''ve heard about Ginny, haven''t you?" He asked them in a hoarse voice, as if he had been crying or shouting. His face was pale and sweaty, and his beard was tangled.

    Ron stared at Hagrid with a dull face. He nodded slowly, but he didn''t say anything. He looked like he had lost all hope.

    Hermione didn''t say anything either. She bit her lip and clenched her fists. She looked like she was trying to hold back her tears.

    Harry had to start the topic by himself. "Oh, yes, I''ve heard." He said in a calm voice, but he felt a lump in his throat. He wanted to ask Hagrid about the Chamber of Secrets and its monster, but he didn''t know how to begin.

    Hagrid seemed to have no idea that they came to ask him anything. He choked and kept looking out of the window nervously. He picked up a knife and tried to cut a thick piece of fruit cake, but he was so clumsy that he knocked over the teapot instead. The hot water spilled out and almost extinguished the fire.

    Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could say anything, there was another loud knock on the door outside.

    Harry felt a jolt of fear in his chest. He wondered who it could be at this hour of the night.

    Hagrid looked even more frightened than before. He whispered to them to hide behind his bed, where there was arge pile of nkets and pillows.

    Harry quickly grabbed his invisibility cloak from his pocket and threw it over himself and his friends. They crawled behind Hagrid''s bed and hid under the cloak.

    Hagrid grabbed his crossbow again and opened the door abruptly.

    "Good evening, Hagrid." It was Dumbledore''s voice. Harry recognized it immediately. It was deep and calm, but also stern and serious.

    Dumbledore walked in with a very grave expression on his face. He was wearing a long purple cloak and a pointed hat, both decorated with silver stars and moons. He had a long white beard and hair, and a pair of piercing blue eyes behind half-moon spectacles. He was the headmaster of Hogwarts, and the most powerful wizard in the world.

    Behind him, there was a strange-looking man who followed him timidly. He was short and fat, with brownish gray hair on his head like Professor Watson, but much more messy. His chubby face was anxious and sweaty. His clothes were matched in a very strange style, striped suit, bright red tie, ck cloak, purple pointed boots, and under his arm, he also held a dark green hat with a golden buckle.

    "That''s my dad''s boss!" Ron finally came to his senses. He whispered to Harry and Hermione, "Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic!"

    Hermione elbowed Ron hard and told him to shut up. She didn''t want them to be discovered by Dumbledore or Fudge.

    For Hagrid, the worst thing finally happened. He fell on the bed with a pale face and defended himself. "I can''t help it, Hagrid¨C" Fudge said in a crisp and fast tone, "It''s very bad, Dumbledore. Keep calm. After those two young wizards were petrified, I can''t tell you how much pressure I''ve been under. I forced the Daily Prophet to shut up, but now this can''t be hidden anymore. Many people in the department who are paying attention to this matter already know that Weasley''s daughter may have been unfortunate."

    "I hope you understand, Cornelius, that I trust Hagridpletely." Dumbledore said in a firm and clear voice. He looked at Fudge with a stern gaze, but there was also helplessness in his blue eyes.

    Sometimes power is such an unreasonable thing. Even Dumbledore had to obey the power structure under the stable social framework. Unless he wanted to push everything back to the beginning.

    Fudge looked like he was trying to act professional and authoritative, but he also looked like he was scared and nervous. He yed with his hat and didn''t look at Dumbledore''s eyes. Instead, he said casually, "Look at it from my point of view, Dumbledore. A little precaution is necessary. If we eventually find another person who opened the Chamber of Secrets, Hagrid will be released, and the Ministry of Magic will apologize fully."

    /FicFrenzy

 074 Expulsion

    074 Expulsion

    Fudge''s feeble exnation did not convince Dumbledore, nor did it reassure Hagrid, who looked terrified and desperate.

    "I can go with you to the Ministry of Magic, you can let Auror check me out, Minister." Hagrid said with trembling lips, his voice cracking with emotion, "But please don''t send me to Azkaban! You know I''m innocent!"

    Fudge had no chance to speak, when there was another loud knock on the door, making everyone jump in their seats. Dumbledore walked over to open it, and this time, Harry got a heavy elbow on his ribs from Ron, who was trying to get a better view. Harry let out a clear gasp of pain and surprise.

    Lucius Malfoy, who had just instructed Draco on some matters in the castle, strode into Hagrid''s hut, wrapped in a long ck traveling cloak that billowed behind him. He had a cold and satisfied smile on his face, as if he had just aplished something great. Fang started barking wildly at the sight of him, but Lucius ignored him.

    "It seems that you have already discussed the key issue." Lucius nodded approvingly, his eyes gleaming with malice, "Very good, very good!"

    "What are you doing here!" Hagrid roared angrily, his face turning red, "Get out of my house, you''re not wee here!"

    "My dear friend, please believe me, I''m not happy to enter your oh, you call this a house, forgive me for being blunt, the ce where my house elves live is more decent than this¨C"

    Lucius Malfoy looked around the small wooden hut with disdain and sneered. He saw the broken furniture, the dirty dishes, the piles of books and papers, and the spider webs hanging from the ceiling. He wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something foul.

    "I just forgot tomunicate with you one thing, Dumbledore,"

    he continued in a sarcastic tone, "Someone told me you came here"

    "What do you want from me, Lucius?"

    Dumbledore still maintained his manners andposure, but Harry was sure he saw two balls like fire burning in Dumbledore''s eyes. Hagrid''s hut probably hadn''t been so lively for a long time. Lucius hadn''t said his intention yet. This was when Bryan walked in directly from the open door.

    "Looks like I came at the wrong time?"

    As soon as he stepped into the house, he sensed the unpleasant atmosphere in the air. He saw the tense faces of Fudge and Hagrid, the smug expression of Lucius, and the calm demeanor of Dumbledore. He felt like he had walked into a minefield. The people in the house reacted differently to Bryan''s appearance. Dumbledore exchanged a nce with him and gave him a slight nod.

    Fudge obviously knew who Bryan was too, but he was very cold towards this obscure young professor. He didn''t even nod his head to greet him or acknowledge his presence. He seemed to think that Bryan was irrelevant and unimportant.

    Seeing Bryan walk in, Lucius slightly restrained the uncontroble pride on his face. He knew this person was found by Kakus Fawley from ''somewhere''. The people there were all reckless dark wizards who were different from Dumbledore''s upright gentlemen behavior. If possible, Lucius didn''t want to offend these people to death. He had heard rumors about their power and ruthlessness.

    "Just right. I was nning to find you after notifying Dumbledore of that terrible news, Bryan Watson¨C"

    Lucius said to Bryan who was a bit surprised. Then he took out a parchment from his chest. His cold gray eyes fixed on Dumbledore and the corners of his mouth pulled out an arc again.

    "Things are bad, Dumbledore¨C"

    Lucius rudely waved the parchment in front of Dumbledore and said, "The board of directors should let you go. This is a temporary suspension order. You will find that all twelve directors have signed it. We think you probably haven''t used your talents well. How many attacks have happened so far? At this rate, by the summer vacation, all the little wizards in Hogwarts will be wiped out!"

    Fudge apparently didn''t pry this out of Lucius''s mouth beforehand. He was very surprised by the board''s decision. But as Lucius said, the appointment of the headmaster was the board''s authority and he couldn''t ''easily'' interfere.

    Hagrid stood up from the edge of the bed abruptly. His fluffy and ck head rubbed against the ceiling. He roared,

    "How many people did you threaten and extort to force them to agree, huh? Malfoy? You slimy git! You can''t do this to Dumbledore! He''s the best headmaster Hogwarts ever had!"

    Bryan gave a slight snort. Kakus Fawley had indeed reminded him of this matter before. But he didn''t expect that Lucius''s hands and feet were so nimble that he had done it so quickly. He wondered how much money and influence Lucius had used to sway the board members.

    "However,"

    Hagrid and Fudge couldn''t stop this from happening. Dumbledore also had to obey the board''s instructions. He said in a very slow and clear voice so that everyone present could hear every word he said.

    "The timees for me to depart this school, it shall only be when every soul within these hallowed walls has found the strength and wisdom to stand on their own. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

    After saying that, Dumbledore looked strangely at the corner of the room, where arge spider web was hanging. Bryan followed Dumbledore''s gaze and looked over there. His eyes were deep and then he smiled in his heart and moved his eyes away as if nothing had happened. He knew that Dumbledore had noticed something unusual there, but he didn''t reveal it. At this time, he found that Lucius was also looking at him.

    "We will all miss you, Dumbledore¨C"

    Lucius grinned and took out another parchment simr to the one just now from his chest. He unfolded it and continued,

    "Since Dumbledore''s matter is over, then Bryan Watson, I regret to inform you that the board of directors has also entrusted me with a dismissal order for you. I have always thought that sending an unknown guy as an investigator into Hogwarts would not work at all. The facts prove that my judgment is urate. Bryan Watson, I suggest you can pack up your things now so that you won''t miss the earliest train tomorrow."

    "What was that?"

    Bryan smiled and didn''t look surprised. He had expected this move from Lucius. He said calmly,

    "Of course, I am the special investigator appointed by the board of directors, and dismissing me is also your right. But I don''t intend to leave Hogwarts now¨C"

    Lucius narrowed his eyes and even Fudge looked at Bryan formally for the first time. They wondered what Bryan was up to.

    "¨CThis is the board''s order, Watson-, sir. Do you intend to disobey it?"

    Bryan smiled happily,

    "I''m afraid you forgot one thing, Mr. Malfoy"

    "Indeed, I''m no longer a special investigator, but I''m still the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor appointed by Headmaster Dumbledore himself. And the right to dismiss a professor is only in the hands of the headmaster. Since there is no headmaster in Hogwarts now, then I have to stay in Hogwarts until the next headmaster takes office."

    Lucius stared coldly at Bryan without speaking. Indeed, he had missed this point. He had thought that Bryan was only a temporary staff member who could be easily removed. He didn''t realize that Bryan had another identity that gave him more protection.

    "Very well¨C"

    After a while, Lucius Malfoy nodded his head reluctantly. He said in a bitter tone, "When the next headmaster officially takes office, I will have a good talk with him about the appointment of teachers in this school. I''m sure he will agree with me that you are not qualified to teach here."

    After saying this, Lucius ignored everyone and walked out directly. He mmed the door behind him, making Fang bark louder.

    "I believe you have a direction for what you are going to do next, right?"

    Bryan''s insistence on staying made Dumbledore smile. He was d that Bryan was not intimidated by Lucius''s threats. Before leaving, he said gently to Bryan,

    "Of course, that''s the case."

    Bryan smiled back and nodded. "I don''t intend to stay out of it."

    "Help me exin, Professor Watson¨C"

    Under Fudge''s escort, Hagrid hesitated and said with a pleading look in his eyes. "You know the situation, Professor Watson. Maybe you can help me clear up the misunderstanding. You know I would never hurt any creature or student."

    The little hut that was crowded with people just now was left with only Bryan. Later he was going to go back to his office and check how much his surveince had recorded. But before that, Bryan looked at the corner of the hut and cleared his throat loudly. He said in a loud voice,

    "The matter here is over, three of you. How long do you n to hide?"

    /FicFrenzy

 075 Riddle and Voldemort

    075 Riddle and Voldemort

    Fang was scratching the door with his two front paws desperately, his whimpering was full of sadness, as if he understood that the owner of the house had gone far away, and whether he coulde back was still unknown. His brown fur was matted with dirt and tears, and his eyes were pleading for someone to open the door and let him in.

    "Professor Watson!"

    Feeling almost suffocated, Harry lifted the invisibility cloak and gasped. He tried to speak several times, but didn''t know how to open his mouth. His throat was dry and his heart was pounding. He felt like he had just witnessed a nightmare that he couldn''t wake up from.

    "Professor, is the Ministry of Magic really going to lock Hagrid in Azkaban? But, Hagrid is innocent. I mean, what evidence do they have to prove that Hagrid is the heir of Slytherin!"

    Hermione looked at Professor Watson who was examining the invisibility cloak in Harry''s hand and spoke with a cry in her voice. She was clutching her books tightly to her chest, as if they could protect her from the harsh reality. Her bushy hair was frizzy and her face was pale. She couldn''t believe that their gentle and loyal friend Hagrid was used of such a terrible crime.

    "The world of adults is sometimes veryplicated, Miss Granger, and dealing with people is also a veryplicated thing¨C"

    Bryan walked to the stool and sat down. He rubbed his brow tiredly and said,

    "That''s why I chose to live a rtively simple life after graduation, and cut off contact with those ssmates I used to know."

    Bryan could see the fear in the hearts of the three little ones. Maybe even Harry and them didn''t realize how helpless their faces were after Dumbledore was driven out of Hogwarts by Lucius.

    Perhaps, Dumbledore didn''t interact with them much on weekdays, but for more than half a century, the words ''Hogwarts'' and ''Dumbledore'' almost became two nouns bound together. Once Hogwarts lost its headmaster, everyone in the school would inevitably feel a sense of copse as if the mountains were pressing down.

    However, for Bryan himself, this was a very good opportunity. "Well, maybe you three owe me an exnation¨C"

    Bryan spoke calmly, making Harry, Hermione, and Ron who had ''lost'' their rtives suddenly feel that the air was not so suffocating. They looked at each other and finally, Harry took a deep breath and told everything about the strange diary in a very fast speed.

    "When we found out that Ginny was in trouble, Hermione immediately went to the library. ording to your hint and the information we had before, we found out that the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was likely to be a snake. Then we came here before everyone else to find Hagrid and confirm the truth about what happened fifty years ago¨C"

    "Tom Riddle''s diary can take you back to the past and show you his recorded scenes in a way of personal experience, right?"

    Bryan closed his eyes and pondered. He had read his lost memory and remembered his detailed memory of destroying Voldemort''s Horcrux when he was in fifth grade. He almost immediately confirmed that the notebook was another new Horcrux.

    "Incredible stupidity¨C"

    Bryan muttered in a voice that only he could hear. It was so foolish to split one''s soul multiple times as an anchor, just to keep one''s doomed flesh alive in the world. Bryan had experienced the world''s rotation. He was probably the only person in this world who had ''died'' but came back to life. Life and death were like a dream in his eyes. He couldn''t understand why Voldemort was so obsessed with ''life''.

    However, there were some things about this notebook that had been briefly in Harry''s hands that amazed Bryan. Bryan had seen Horcruxes and had destroyed Voldemort''s Horcruxes by himself, but this notebook that had been briefly in Harry''s hands had the ability to deceive and mislead people with words. This surprised Bryan very much. Why did this thing have such a high ''activity''?

    "I think there is something you may not know¨C"

    Bryan opened his eyes and looked at the three uneasy people. He said calmly,

    "Tom Riddle is the name Voldemort used when he went to school here, or rather, this is Voldemort''s original name."

    ng!

    The news that Bryan whispered softly was like a thunderbolt that struck the three people in front of him. Ron copsed on his feet and knocked over the kettle on the stove. The boiling water sshed on the floor and made a hissing sound. Hermione screamed out loud and dropped her books on the ground. The pages fluttered in the air like frightened birds. And Harry looked as pale as death. His scar burned like fire on his forehead. He felt a cold sweat on his back.

    "So you mean!"

    Harry didn''t have time to care where Professor Watson knew this shocking news from. He suppressed his nausea and dizziness from having intimate contact with Voldemort''s dark magic creation. He asked, his voice trembling,

    "It was Voldemort all along! He opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago! He framed Hagrid!"

    Apart from Harry, Professor Watson was the only wizard Ron had ever seen who could say ''Voldemort'' with such a calm tone. If it were normal times, he would have been extremely surprised by this. But now, all he felt was despair. He felt a cold lump in his chest, as if his heart had stopped beating. Before knowing this news, he still fantasized that as long as they found the Chamber of Secrets in time, Ginny might be saved. But now, even if Ron was optimistic, he didn''t dare to imagine that his sister was still alive.

    "Professor Watson!"

    Hermione''s forehead was covered with big drops of sweat, which meant that she was thinking at full speed with her smart little brain. She was trying to find a way out of this hopeless situation. She knew that they couldn''t just sit here and do nothing. They had to act fast and save Ginny and Hagrid. She looked at Professor Watson who was examining the invisibility cloak in Harry''s hand and spoke with a cry in her voice.

    "If we exin all this to the Ministry of Magic, will Hagrid and Headmaster Dumbledore¨C"

    "If the notebook was still intact in your hands, maybe the Ministry of Magic would ept our words, Miss Granger,"

    Bryan understood Hermione''s intention, but his answer was very disappointing.

    "But now, we have no evidence to prove that this diary ever existed, and its various incredible methods. The Ministry of Magic will not easily believe the words of three underage little wizards."

    Professor Watson''s words made Harry feel very guilty. Ron had warned him that this diary of unknown origin was very dangerous. Hermione had also told him to hand over the diary. But he insisted on keeping the diary by his side. And this almost directly led to Ron''s sister''s misfortune. He felt a pang of regret and self-me in his heart. He wished he could go back in time and change everything.

    Bryan didn''t speak. He was also thinking. From Harry''s description, Bryan guessed that the diary was just a carrier of Voldemort''s thoughts. It had no ability to act on its own. That is to say, all the attacks in the first half of the semester were done by the diary through the hands of a student. From the current situation, this student was most likely Ginny Weasley.

    But how did Ginny Weasley get this Horcrux of Voldemort? Did she also find Voldemort''s relic hidden in the castle by ident, like he did back then?

    There was another question, that was whether Ginny Weasley was still alive or not.

    In Bryan''s opinion, the possibility of Voldemort''s highly active Horcrux killing Ginny Weasley directly was very low, because such an act was too ''wasteful''.

    Bryan knew about Horcruxes. Horcruxes had two functions. The first one was to use themselves as anchors and forcibly nail the broken soul to the world when the ''main body'' suffered a fatal injury, thus avoiding the death of the Horcrux maker.

    The second one was that Horcruxes had the function of reviving the main body. And the way to achieve this function was to devour the life force of the person who touched the Horcrux. This was something Bryan knew very well.

    Absorbing life force was not a process that could be done in one go. From Bryan''s vague impression of Ginny Weasley these days, this girl''s life had not reached the stage of a candle in the wind. That is to say, it was probably not an easy thing for Voldemort''s Horcrux topletely devour Ginny''s life force in a few hours.

    But if time dragged on until tomorrow''s sunrise, Ginny''s life and death would really be hard to say.

    /FicFrenzy

 076 The Location of the Chamber of Secrets

    076 The Location of the Chamber of Secrets

    Arge cloud, dark and ominous, floated over and covered the sky, obscuring the bright moon that had been shining down on the Hogwarts campus. A sudden gust of wind blew on the spaciouswn, making the grass sway and rustle. The Hogwarts castle on the cliff was brightly lit, but the flickering candles in the windows seemed to convey a sense of panic and anxiety that pervaded the school.

    Bryan escorted the three distraught young wizards back to the Gryffindormon room, his face grave and solemn. Harry seemed to sense that he would take some action next, and he felt a surge of guilt and regret. Standing in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, who looked at them with concern, he asked Professor Watson if he could do something to help.

    "It''s all because of me¨C"

    Harry didn''t dare to look into Ron''s eyes, which were red and swollen from crying. He lowered his head and said sadly,

    "If I had been more alert, not so easily trusting that notebook, maybe Ginny wouldn''t have been taken into that chamber, Hagrid wouldn''t have been taken away by the Ministry of Magic, and Lucius Malfoy wouldn''t have found a chance to drive away Dumbledore!"

    "It''s not your fault, Harry¨C"

    Hermione patted Harry''s back with a gentle voice, trying tofort him.

    "Many wizards with more experience than you couldn''t resist the temptation of the You-Know-Who. We didn''t notice that the diary was hiding evil intentions."

    She looked at Bryan with a hopeful expression, wondering if he had any clues or ns.

    "Hogwarts can''t afford to lose another young wizard, Potter¨C"

    Bryan''s memory hidden in the dormitory had told him some key information, but it didn''t mention the specific location of the chamber. He looked at Harry who was depressed, and smiled with a hint of meaning.

    "The snake monster in the chamber is not something that an ungraduated young wizard can easily deal with. If you identally encounter it, remember not to look at it¨C"

    He winked at Harry, implying that he knew something more.

    On the way back to his office, Bryan met Professor McGonagall outside the hospital wing on the fourth floor. She was furious, scolding a few older Hufflepuff girls who had been caught sneaking out of their dormitory. Seeing Bryaning from afar, Professor McGonagall stopped scolding, and let Filch escort them back to their dormitory with a stern warning.

    "These students!" Professor McGonagall''s face was pale, and she clenched her lips and spat out word by word. "They actually sneaked out to find Gilderoy, hoping he could help them deal with that heir. It''s ridiculous that even Albus can''t do anything about it¨C" She sighed and shook her head, as if she had lost faith in those students.

    "It can only be said that Professor Lockhart''s books do have a decent charm."

    Bryan shrugged and said, then he saw Professor McGonagall take out ace handkerchief and gently wipe her eyes behind her square sses. She said with a nasal voice,

    "¨CBefore Fudge came here, he told me that tomorrow the head of Auror Office Rufus Scrimgeour will bring people to upy the castle and thoroughly investigate Hogwarts and the students and staff in the school. I really hope that the person who did all this secretly can feel ashamed of their actions and take responsibility for them. I don''t know how to exin to Arthur and Molly that Hogwarts couldn''t protect their daughter!"

    By the time Bryanforted Professor McGonagall''s mood and collected his panoramic telescopes ced in the school corridor back to his office, it was already past ten o''clock at night.

    Only half of the images on the monitoring wall in the office were still working. From Gryffindor dormitory to the third floor of the school, all plunged into darkness.

    "The third floor?" With just this point, Bryan confirmed this key information. He sat cross-legged on the ground, spread out those panoramic telescopes that were damaged by freezing curses in front of him, and began to repair one by one. The magic corridor inside them was severely damaged. Bryan took a while toplete this task.

    Huh¨C When time came to eleven o''clock, Bryan stood up and took out his wand and pointed it at the panoramic telescope on the ground. Under the traction of magic, hundreds of thousands of golden sand-like light gradually gathered into a series of frozen images in mid-air. The remaining information in the images made Bryan squint his eyes.

    Sure enough, apart from Ginny Weasley, there was no one else in the picture!

    Bryan watched Ginny holding a ck diary walk out from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady by herself. She showed a deep and gloomy smile at the position where Bryan ced his panoramic telescope on the ceiling of the corridor. Then she suddenly waved her wand. The original smooth picture suddenly shook violently and then wentpletely ck. Bryan felt a chill in his heart. He knew that Ginny had been possessed by the diary, and that she was going to the chamber of secrets.

    Ginny''sst appearance was on the third floor. She stood at the corner of the third floor staircase and destroyed Bryan''s panoramic telescopes as before. Her final destination was unknown. Bryan wondered what was there on the third floor that could lead to the chamber. Could it be that Slytherin''s chamber was located there? He had to find out as soon as possible.

    Knock knock knock!

    Just as Bryan''s thoughts fell into a brief trance for a moment, his office door suddenly banged loudly. Judging from the frequency and urgency, the visitor''s mood should be very anxious.

    The door was not opened yet, but Bryan had already sensed who the visitor was from the magic perspective. He couldn''t help but look a little surprised.

    "Miss Granger?"

    Bryan moved his finger and the office door opened by itself with a click. Hermione, who was almost leaning on the door, stumbled in. She looked pale and exhausted, but her eyes were shining with determination.

    "Can you exin why, at this moment of silence, you vited the school rules and Professor McGonagall''s orders and came to my office in the middle of the night?"

    "Professor Watson!" If it were normal, Hermione might have been trembling and apologizing when a professor spoke to her with such a displeased attitude, but now, shepletely ignored Professor Watson''s frowning brows and ran directly to Bryan''s front in three steps and two steps. She restrained herself from pulling Bryan''s sleeve with the only remaining reason, but her tone was still extremely urgent.

    "Professor, we found the location of the chamber!"

    Bryan suddenly frowned. He looked at the young witch seriously, and judged in an instant that Hermione was not lying. This is really a strange thing. He had clearly sent them back to the Gryffindormon room. Could it be that these stubborn little guys ran out to search the castle again?

    "Tell me in detail about your findings, Miss Granger!"

    Now is not the time to worry about irrelevant things. Bryan steadied his mind and asked directly.

    "Huh, it''s like this, Professor Watson!"

    Hermione gasped heavily, but now she had no time to ask Professor Watson for a cup of water. She licked her dry lips and said with a hoarse but fast tone.

    "It was Harry. We three didn''t go back to our dormitory to sleep after returning to themon room, but discussed You-Know-Who''s diary in themon room. At first, we talked about some meaningless things, butter, Harry suddenly thought of something very important!"

    "What is it?"

    Looking at Hermione who suddenly widened her amber eyes, Bryan quickly asked.

    "¨CBefore, when Harry wasmunicating with that diary, he identally heard the diary say that fifty years ago, the student who died from the snake attack died in a bathroom!" Hermione said excitedly.

    "Go on, Miss Granger!" Bryan''s brows moved slightly. His tone revealed obvious excitement. The so-called ''protagonist'' is really a magical species. All kinds of opportunities are being stuffed into their hands!

    "The bathroom on the third floor!"

    Hermione said decisively. "There has always been a ghost in that bathroom. We call her ''Moaning Myrtle''. She is the student who died fifty years ago. We got clues from her. Harry opened the entrance to the chamber. He and Ron went ahead to save Ginny. Huh, Harry asked me toe and tell you this!"

    Bryan''s shoulders rxed again. He took a long breath and finally smiled.

    "Let''s go, Miss Granger." He said warmly. "Let''s bring that poor little girl back!" He grabbed his cloak and wand, and gestured Hermione to follow him.

    He hoped they were not toote.

    /FicFrenzy

 077 Entering the Chamber of Secrets

    077 Entering the Chamber of Secrets

    Hermione dragged Bryan along the dark and dusty corridor on the third floor of Hogwarts Castle. She was in a hurry to show him the girls'' bathroom at the end of the hall. "This is it, professor-" she said breathlessly.

    Bryan remembered the stories he had heard from his female ssmates when he was a student at Hogwarts. They said the bathroom was haunted by a ghost named Moaning Myrtle, who wore sses and had died there. Myrtle was very possessive of the bathroom and would scream at anyone who tried to use it. She would also ssh them with freezing water from the sinks and toilets, making them wet and miserable. That''s why most students avoided that bathroom as much as possible. They didn''t want to deal with the angry ghost while they were doing their personal business.

    Bryan cautiously approached the rickety wooden door that led to the dimly-lit bathroom. He wrinkled his nose at the musty smell of dampness and decay. From one of the stalls, a thin stream of filthy water seeped across the cracked stone floor. Bryan guessed that this was the secret entrance to the fabled Chamber of Secrets, hidden somewhere in this room by the infamous Szar Slytherin. He wondered why Slytherin had chosen a girls'' bathroom as the location for his mysterious chamber. It seemed like a strange and whimsical choice for the cunning and ambitious founder of Slytherin house. Then it urred to him that maybe this bathroom was not always for girls. Perhaps it was Slytherin''s own privatevatory when he built the chamber centuries ago. The school staff must have changed its purpose over time to amodate the female students.

    "Here youe again! And with a Hogwarts professor this time too!" Myrtle''s shrill voice rang out as she caught sight of Bryan and Hermione entering her haunted domain. The pearly-white ghost girl was perched atop one of the cubicle doors, happily humming an off-key song to herself. But upon noticing a professor had walked in, Myrtle''s demeanor quickly changed to one of panic and she anxiously floated down from her cubicle and nearer to the floor, as if trying to make herself less noticeable.

    Bryan peered with curiosity at the ghostly figure - he had only ever heard vague rumors about Moaning Myrtle during his school days and hadn''t actually met her until now. As he looked her up and down, Bryan noted her thick, coke-bottle sses and generally undesirable, gloomy appearance. After satisfying his curiosity about the infamous bathroom ghost, Bryan''s gaze was soon drawn to therge, grimy pipe situated conspicuously in front of the row of sinks, which did not seem to fit with the rest of the bathroom decor.

    "Myrtle, are Harry and Ron still down there in the chamber?" Hermione asked the ghost witch anxiously, her voice echoing slightly off the cold tile walls.

    "Obviously they are," Myrtle responded in a wispy tone, her beady eyes peering out through the thick lenses of her sses. Perhaps sensing the authority of a Hogwarts professor, Myrtle seemed reluctant to act too bold or presumptuous in Bryan''s presence. She eyed the handsome wizard professor surreptitiously as she added with a hint of relish, "But don''t worry too much, I''m sure your friends will being back up soon. In the meantime, I''ve been busying myself picking out toilets for them to arrive in!"

    Bryan decided it was time to directly confront the ghostly witch and gain some answers. He patted Hermione gently on the shoulder, signaling for her to rx and letting her know he would handle this. Turning back to Myrtle, Bryan continued speaking politely but with an unmistakable firmness and authority in his even tone: "I have a question for you Miss Myrtle, which I very much hope you can provide an honest answer to - if I am not mistaken, the three attacks that happened earlier this school year were actually carried out by Ginny Weasley while she was controlled by outside forces. As you have been, ahem, ''living'' in this bathroom for quite some time, surely you must have witnessed Ginny opening the Chamber of Secrets with your own ghostly eyes...am I correct?"

    "You''ve known all along, haven''t you Myrtle!" Hermione suddenly shouted angrily at the ghost in realization, her voice echoing sharply off the cold tile walls. Though Myrtle''s wispy form emitted only a fuzzy silver glow, Hermione could still sense the sinister, self-satisfied look hinted at in the specter''s eyes. "Everyone has been exhausting themselves trying to solve this mystery and identify the person who opened the Chamber," Hermione continued heatedly, "Myrtle, Harry, Ron and I have even been forced to spend countless hours brewing Polyjuice Potion in this dreary bathroom for over a month, exposed to the cold dampness! And yet it seems you''ve been secretly watching us struggle and enjoying augh at our expense this whole time!"

    Hermione''s heated words seemed to touch a nerve, and Myrtle''s ghostly form swelled up in rage like an inted balloon. She began floating toward Hermione rapidly as if wanting to get right in the young witch''s face and give her an angry retort. But when Myrtle had halved the ten-foot distance between herself and where Bryan and Hermione stood side-by-side, the ghost found her path suddenly blocked by a swirling vortex of magical energy that Bryan quickly summoned. The size of a full moon, the mystical vortex glowed and pulsated with an eerie intertwining of silver and ck hues. Myrtle halted abruptly, gazing into the cold darkness at the center of the vortex where a creeping ck hole seemed to emanate the very breath of death itself. Having already experienced the chill of mortality once before in her time, Myrtle''s ghostly instincts now took over and she recoiled in fear from the frightening magical disy. The edges of her pearly spectral form appeared to blur and distort under the heavy waves of foreboding energy radiating from Bryan''s spell.

    "Aaahh!" Myrtle let out an earsplitting shriek, her glowing figure flickering rapidly as she turned and made a panicked beeline for the nearest toilet stall. With a loud ssh, the ghost dove straight into the toilet bowl and disappeared from view, seeming to seek shelter from Bryan''s terrifying magic.

    "Professor Watson, you should not have let her off so easy like that!" Hermione said in a scolding tone, her kind heart showing concern even for the cruel ghost who had caused so much harm. Of course, the young witch did not yet fully understand exactly what such a dark disy of magic could mean for a ghostly entity like Myrtle.

    "There is little point in wasting time quarrelling with a spirit at the moment, Miss Granger," Bryan replied calmly as he dismissed the swirling vortex with a wave of his hand. He then turned and strode purposefully over to therge drainage pipe situated at the center of the bathroom floor. The pipe was pitch-ck and exuded an unpleasant sewage odor from its dark depths. As Bryan peered down into the foreboding tunnel, his eyes took on an inquisitive glint. With his magical senses, he could perceive that the intricate enchantments that maintained the existence of this hidden passageway were linked directly into the vast, ancient magical foundations that supported the entire castle structure.

    Bryan knew that magic, when taken to an advanced enough level, began to deal extensively withplex rules and systems rather than just raw power alone. To safely disable or unlock spells of such potency without destabilizing the entire structure required adhering to the specific ''rule set'' put in ce by the original caster - in this case, the notoriously brilliant Szar Slytherin himself. Simply overpowering one''s way through by force could have disastrous consequences. Indeed, Bryan realized that without Harry Potter''s rare gift of Parseltongue to open the Chamber entrance, even he would be forced topletely uproot the entirety of Hogwarts castle itself if he wished to breach Slytherin''s magic by brute magical strength alone!

    "Do you think we should enter the Chamber, Professor?" Hermione asked nervously, peering down the dark, slimy pipe with uncertainty. "Won''t it be dangerous down there with the basilisk lurking about?" Although her concerns were quite valid, Bryan recognized that the young witch''s anxiety was also partly a result of her traumatic experiences with the Heir of Slytherin. As a Muggle-born, facing the legendary Chamber built specifically by one of Hogwarts'' founders to purge the school of those with ''impure'' blood like herself, it was only natural for poor Hermione to feel frightened.

    "There is no need for concern, Miss Granger," Bryan gently reassured her with a calm smile. "No harm wille to you as long as I am here." Hermione still looked anxious but managed a small, grateful nod. Bryan decided exploring the ancient magical ruins left by medieval wizards could be quite thrilling indeed. Theplex enchantments Slytherin had used just on the Chamber entrance alone provided valuable insights into rule-based environment magic that even Bryan had scarcely encountered before. But now was not the time for academic curiosity - there were still students'' lives at stake down below.

    Turning his attention back to the ominous pipe, Bryan considered their options. Simply sliding down the dark, slime-coated tunnel did not seem particrly wise or sanitary. After a brief moment of contemtion, Bryan formted an idea and turned toward the nervous young witch beside him. "Please excuse any difort this may cause, Miss Granger," he stated politely before reaching out a steady hand to gently grasp Hermione''s shoulder.

    "Whatever do you mean, Profess- oh!" Hermione cut off with a startled yelp as Bryan swiftly enacted his spell. With his free left hand, he deftly flicked his wand in an upward motion, manipting the fabric of his loosely hanging professor''s robes to unwrap and swirl upward enveloping them both. Hermione''s eyes widened in shock as her body was abruptly wrapped in the robe''s silky folds. An icy sensation washed over her and the bathroom scene around them faded away into inky darkness. Gasping, Hermione nced down to see even her own body had disappeared entirely! In its ce she now appeared to be little more than a softly glowing, amorphous ck shadow.

    "P-professor, what is this magic you''ve used on us?" Hermione cried out in her rm, though she was relieved to find she could still vocalize in her bizarre new form. Her voice seemed to echo strangely as if traveling through water.

    "All shall be exined another time," Bryan answered, his calm voice somehow resonating directly into Hermione''s mind. "But now haste is required, Miss Granger."

    Without further dy, Bryan, likewise transformed into a wispy shadow, propelled himself and Hermione into the gaping tunnel opening. The two streaked swiftly down the mmy stone pipe, Bryan using magic to keep them centered as it twisted and turned at steep angles, plunging them ever deeper below the castle. As they flew down the main drain, smaller pipes asionally branched off in all directions but Bryan adeptly guided them along the correct path. The already cold air grew even more frigid and damp the further they descended. Their rate of speed was extremely rapid, and before long Bryan sensed they were deep beneath theke itself. Using his shadow vision he could just make out the rockykebed far below them through thebyrinth of drainage tunnels. But their destination still awaited...the fabled Chamber of Secrets.

    /FicFrenzy

 078 See You At Last

    078 See You At Last

    "Professor, you can fly?!"

    Hermione''s voice was full of disbelief and awe as she followed Bryan through the seemingly endless pipe. She had just experienced the most bizarre sensation of bing a phantom and passing through solid walls, and now she was witnessing another miracle of magic.

    She had always thought that flying was impossible without alchemy tool like broomstick or a carpet, but Professor Watson had just proved her wrong. He had lifted them both into the air with a flick of his wand and soared through the dark tunnel like a bird. They flew for about two minutes, dodging the twists and turns of the pipe, before they finallynded in a dark stone tunnel. Hermione felt her feet touch the ground and her body regain its solidity. She was still dizzy and nauseous from the phantom state, but she couldn''t help eximing.

    In the little witch''s mind, flying by magic alone was something that only the most powerful and legendary wizards could do. She had read about it in books, but she had never seen it in person. She wondered how Professor Watson had learned such a skill, and what other secrets he was hiding.

    "Hehe, obviously¨C"

    Bryan nced at the shattered rat skull under his feet, exhaled, and said in a rxed tone.

    He seemed unfazed by the feat he had just performed, as if it was nothing more than a simple trick. He looked around the tunnel with a curious eye, searching for clues and signs of danger. Hermione followed his gaze and felt a shiver run down her spine.

    The tunnel was dimly lit by the faint glow of Professor Watson''s wand tip, but she could see enough to make her skin crawl. The floor of the tunnel was littered with bones of small animals, some still with bits of flesh and fur attached to them. The walls were damp and moldy, covered with slime and moss. The air was thick with a foul smell of rotting meat and stagnant water. The tunnel looked like a tomb, or worse, air. She tried hard to restrain herself from screaming, but fear made her tremble and weak. She could only stand by pulling Watson''s robe, hoping that he would protect her from whatever horrors lurked in the dark.

    For Bryan, however, the bones on the ground were nothing more than ordinary. He had seen worse things in his life, things that would make most people lose their sanity. He had explored many magical ruins in his quest for knowledge and adventure, and he had encountered many dangers and mysteries along the way. He was not afraid of death, nor of the unknown. He was only curious and excited by the challenge.

    "Let''s go, Miss Granger, we don''t have much time to waste¨C"

    Bryan''s tone was calm and confident. He let the little witch pull his wizard robe and walked steadily along the tunnel. He held his wand in front of him, ready to cast any spell that might be needed. He knew that they were getting closer to their destination, and to their enemy.

    The air was getting hotter and drier as they walked deeper into the tunnel. The tunnel was old and not well sealed, and water dripped from the cracks in the ceiling. Hermione flinched every time a drop of muddy waternded on her face or neck. She hated this ce more than anything. She didn''t dare to think about Ginny''s fate, or Harry and Ron''s whereabouts. She only hoped that they were safe and alive.

    "Professor Watson, that is."

    Just after a dark bend in the tunnel, a huge silhouette suddenly appeared in front of them. It looked like a giant snake coiled on the ground, blocking their way. Hermione screamed in terror, thinking that it was the Basilisk they were looking for. But before she could express her panicpletely, Bryan reacted faster than her. He raised his wand arm and drew a swift arc in the air. The wand tip that emitted fluorescent light burst into a violent fire!

    Boom!

    The sound was deafening, like a thunderp in a storm. A huge ball of fire erupted from Bryan''s wand tip and flew towards the silhouette with incredible speed. It hit it with a loud bang and exploded into a thick golden tornado that spun around wildly. The tornado swept over the space ahead with a devastating force, burning everything in its path to ashes. Wherever the fire passed, the puddles on the ground evaporated instantly, creating clouds of steam that filled the air. The bones sleeping in the puddles turned into dust that scattered in the wind. The mud and moss attached to the wall cracked and peeled off under the intense heat.

    In the dark, Hermione felt like she was standing in front of a volcano that was about to erupt. She stared nkly at a golden sun rising from the rollingva! She felt an unbearable heat on her face and body, as if she was being roasted alive. She covered her eyes with her hands, trying to shield them from the blinding light. She couldn''t believe what she was seeing. Professor Watson had just unleashed a firestorm that could destroy a small vige!

    Gurgle!

    The surging heat wave forced Hermione to swallow saliva to moisten her dry throat. She stared nkly at Professor Watson''s side face that was reddened by the firelight. His fluffy curly hair was flying in the wind, giving him a wild and fierce look.

    Suddenly Hermione couldn''t tell who was more terrifying between the Basilisk and Professor Watson. It wasn''t until half a minuteter that Bryan lowered his wand and dispelled the magic fire. He led Hermione past the smoking ground that burned his feet and came to the huge silhouette.

    The snake skin that was about thirty feet long had been charred all over. It was covered with golden fire clusters that crumbled into dust as soon as they touched it. It was the remains of the Basilisk''s shed skin, a sign that it had grown bigger and stronger over the years.

    "Huh professor,"

    Hermione gasped, giving her judgment.

    "Is this the snake skin shed by that Basilisk?"

    "Hmm¨C"

    Bryan nodded. After roughly estimating the size of the Basilisk, he didn''t say anything else and walked straight ahead.

    He knew that the real Basilisk was still ahead of them, waiting for them in its nest. He was not afraid of it, nor of its deadly gaze. He had a n to deal with it, and he was confident in his abilities.

    Hermione stayed in ce for a few seconds before she came back to her senses. She ran after Professor Watson and grabbed his fluttering wizard robe again. She followed him step by step, wondering what he was going to do next.

    The two walked along the tunnel through one bend after another. Every nerve was twitching, every sense was alert. Hermione finally understood why Professor Watson''s maze in Defense Against The Dark Arts practice ss looked like that. It was a reflection of his own experiences and personality, full of challenges and surprises.

    "Keep your eyes on the ground and don''t look up¨C"

    Bryan whispered this warning as he led Hermione through the dark and damp tunnel. He could feel the cold sweat on his forehead and the tension in his muscles.

    After about ten minutes of walking, Bryan suddenly stopped at a corner. He sensed a surge of magic fluctuations and heard faint rumbling noisesing from ahead.

    He raised his wand in front of him, pointing it at the darkness. His purple eyes spun slowly like millstones, scanning for any signs of danger or traps. He had a feeling that they were not alone in this ce.

    A minuteter, after passing through thest corner, Bryan and Hermione faced a solid wall with two stone snake statues with green eyes on both sides. The snakes seemed to stare at them with malice and contempt. They were the guardians of the Chamber of Secrets, the hiddenir of Szar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. At this time, there was a violent tremor on the ground. In the cold air, there was a faint sound of pleasant chirping and rocks colliding. It seemed that there was a fierce fight going on in the room with faint light ahead.

    "Take out your wand, Miss Granger. We''re almost there."

    Reminded by Professor Watson, Hermione realized that she hadn''t taken out her wand as a wizard in such a dangerous situation. She felt ashamed and embarrassed. She quickly apologized in a low voice,

    "I''m sorry, Professor Watson. I didn''t pay attention¨C" She hurriedly pulled out her wand from the pocket of her wizard robe.

    It had been three months since he returned to Hogwarts after Christmas. Although there were some twists and turns, anyway, Bryan finally stood in the Chamber of Secrets that had been legendary for a thousand years!

    This was a long, dimly lit room. On both sides of the room, there were many stone pirs carved with entwined snakes standing side by side. They supported the ceiling that melted into the darkness above, casting long and eerie shadows on the whole room that was filled with green and mysterious mist.

    At the end of the room, there was a statue as high as the room itself. It was Szar Slytherin in his old age. Probably because he had been conducting dangerous magical experiments on himself for years, the handsome Slytherin in his youth looked more like a weak old monkey.

    Ginnyy at the foot of the statue without a sound. She looked pale and lifeless, as if all her energy had been drained by something sinister. Ron was lying a few steps away from Ginny. He had arge stone on his back and bite marks on his arm. His wizard robe was torn and stained with blood. His face was twisted with pain and fear. Bryan, who led Hermione in, also noticed that Ron''s wand seemed to be broken in two again. He wondered how he managed to survive this long without a proper wand.

    When they entered the chamber, Harry was dodging the stones swept down by the tail of the Basilisk in the air. He held a sword with an ancient style in his hand and stuffed a pudding-filled hat in his pocket. The sword was shining with silver light, contrasting with the dark green scales of the Basilisk.

    "He still has a card up his sleeve, Dumbledore¨C"

    Bryan recognized at a nce that the colorful bird flying in the air and pecking at the Basilisk''s ferocious and horrible head was Dumbledore''s office''s phoenix named Fawkes. He had seen it before when he visited Dumbledore''s office for several ''matters''. He knew that phoenixes were loyal and powerful creatures that could heal wounds with their tears. He nced at the shadow behind a stone pir. He was in a good mood.

    "Ron and Ginny, professor, please help Harry!"

    The huge body of the Basilisk, which glowed with green and gorgeous metallic luster, blocked their way to the Weasley siblings. This made Hermione unable to rush over to check Ron and Ginny''s condition. At the same time, Harry''s situation also made Hermione very anxious. She cried out in tears and begged Professor Watson to help.

    Hermione''s call finally made Harry, who was dizzy by the stones, notice the new visitors in the chamber. He dodged the Basilisk''s iron tail with a neat roll and shouted anxiously,

    "Professor Watson, I''ll hold off this Basilisk. You hurry up and take Ron and Ginny to the hospital. Ron was bitten by the basilisk''s venomous fang!"

    "This kid"

    Bryan had a tickmark on his forehead and showed a helpless expression.

    "Did he hit his head with a stone!"

    /FicFrenzy

 079 Inside The Chamber

    079 Inside The Chamber

    "What are you talking about, Harry!" Before Bryan could utter a word, Hermione shouted anxiously, "Get out of the way, Harry, Professor Watson can handle this Basilisk!" Her voice was shrill and panicked, as she watched the monstrous snake slithering closer to her friend.

    Bryan touched his nose and smiled at Hermione. It seemed that he had shown some strength in front of this little witch and she was very confident in him. He felt a surge of pride and gratitude, mixed with a hint of amusement. He wondered what she would think of him if she knew his works as a ''frencer''.

    Hermione''s reminder made Harry, who was moving around in a mboyant manner, stunned. He looked at Bryan with wide eyes, as if he had just noticed him for the first time. Then he came to his senses and picked up the sword with a dazzling red gem the size of an egg on the hilt. It was a magnificent weapon, shining with an ancient and noble aura. He rolled and crawled out of the attack range of the Basilisk that had gone mad. The snake was hissing and snapping its fangs, trying to catch its prey.

    "Huh¨C, Professor Watson, please save Ron and Ginny, they are still alive!" Harry pleaded, as he reached Hermione''s side. He pointed at the two motionless figures lying on the floor, covered in blood and dirt. They looked pale and lifeless, but Harry refused to give up hope.

    When he realized that the most powerful professor in the school besides Dumbledore was standing in front of him, Harry felt his strength being drained by magic and quickly left his body. He felt dizzy and weak, as if he had run a marathon. He had used too much of his energy to fight the Basilisk, and now he was paying the price. Just as he was about to fall down, Hermione caught him in time. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, whispering words offort.

    "Don''t worry, Potter, no one will die here tonight¨C"

    Bryan said calmly, as he scanned the chamber with his keen eyes. He saw that Ginny still had a faint life force in her body, pulsing weakly like a dying star. He also breathed a sigh of relief. He had arrived just in time to save her from the Basilisk''s venom. He stared at the sword in Harry''s hand and suddenly thought of a legendary magical item belonging to Godric Gryffindor. He paused for a moment and asked hesitantly,

    "Potter, this sword is¨C"

    "Fawkes brought me the Sorting Hat¨C" Harry gasped and said,

    "I found this sword in the Sorting Hat. Huh, it must have been put there by Professor Dumbledore. It suddenly fell out and hit my head!"

    He sounded confused and amazed by his own luck.

    Bryan nodded knowingly, restoring the truth of the matter from Harry''s inverted sentences. He understood that Dumbledore had sent his phoenix and his hat to help Harry in his time of need. He also recognized the sword as Gryffindor''s legacy, a powerful artifact that could only be wielded by a true heir of the founder. Although he was very curious about this famous weapon, he also knew that now was not a good time to study it.

    "Get away from there, Fawkes, don''t get caught by my curse¨C"

    Bryan warned, as he saw Dumbledore''s phoenix still fighting with the Basilisk in mid-air. The bird was dodging and diving, avoiding the snake''s gaze and bite.

    However, after hearing Bryan''s instructions, Fawkes showed great intelligence and cried out crisply. It seemed to understand Bryan''s n and trust his judgment. After a graceful drift in mid-air, leaving behind a colorful light and shadow, it flew straight to Ron who was lying on the ground and looked at the torn wound on his arm. It dropped a few tears on the injury, healing it instantly.

    ng!

    The piercing scream sounded like an arrow leaving the bow. Harry and Hermione only saw Professor Watson waving his wand lightly. Then, severalrge pieces of broken stones on the ground turned into several metal spears as thick as oak trees in silence. The dark-colored spears cut through the cold air, creating a huge and indestructible cage that trapped the huge Basilisk inside!

    Boom-bang!

    The Basilisk mmed into the metal cage barrier frantically. Under its desperate struggle, the ground shook like an earthquake. Stones fell like raindrops, but they were all blocked by the white magic shield around Bryan. Not a speck of dust fell on them.

    Staring at the Basilisk that seemed to be defiant and made a lot of noise, Bryan moved his eyebrows slightly. He circled his wrist again and a faint light shed on the frame of the metal cage.

    Bang!

    This time, the Basilisk dared not hit the barrier so recklessly!

    As soon as its hard scales touched the cage, the seemingly cold and dark spears would erupt into golden mes. This was fiendfyre, a cursed fire that had an extremely high temperature and could destroy almost anything, even magical objects and creatures. The Basilisk, could not withstand the fire for long and copsed on the ground, gasping for breath. It curled up its massive body into a circle and remained motionless.

    Is this what someone who could fight with Professor Dumbledore in fifth grade looks like now?! Harry stared at this scene dumbfoundedly. He couldn''t believe that he had almost fought with his life against the Basilisk that was easily trapped by Professor Watson with the help of Dumbledore''s phoenix.

    "Ron!"

    Hermione came out of her shock faster than Harry, who had mentally prepared herself for the worst. Seeing that the Basilisk was trapped, she couldn''t restrain her anxiety anymore. She ran to Ron''s side with tears flying. Her heart was pounding in her chest, as she feared for his life.

    "Professor Watson, this bird is crying!" Hermione sobbed, "Is Ron already¨C" She couldn''t finish her sentence, as she choked on her own words. She looked at Ron''s pale and still face, hoping to see some sign of movement.

    Harry''s body swayed slightly and his face turned pale. He stared at Ron who had just been lying on the ground and whimpering softly. His lips trembled non-stop. He didn''t want to believe that Ron was dead! He felt a surge of guilt and grief, as he med himself for dragging his friend into this mess.

    "You two don''t have to worry¨C"

    Bryan walked over quickly. He turned Ron''s pale face over and carefully examined the charred flesh on his arm that was smoking under the phoenix''s tears. He could see that the wound was healing slowly, enough to save him from the Basilisk''s venom.

    "Fawkes is a phoenix, and phoenix tears have a very strong healing effect, but¨C" Bryan then turned his gaze to Ginny, whose chest was only faintly rising and falling. She looked like a broken doll, lying on the cold stone floor. Her eyes were closed and her hair was matted with blood.

    "Miss Weasley''s situation is probably worse. She urgently needs professional and effective treatment. You two better escort them to the school hospital and find Madam Pomfrey now." Bryan said firmly, as he made a decision. He knew that time was running out, and that he couldn''t waste any more of it here.

    After hearing that Ron and Ginny were still alive, Harry felt like he had been fished out of the water. He gasped heavily, as he felt a wave of relief wash over him. In just a few seconds, he sweated more than when he fought with the Basilisk. He felt exhausted and drained, but also hopeful and grateful.

    Bryan conjured two stretchers and controlled Ron and Ginny''s bodies to float up. Then he looked at Hermione, who still had tears in her eyes. "I''ll stay here and watch this Basilisk. You two can go and inform Professor McGonagall about what happened here after you send Ginny and Ron to the school hospital. I think she will faint with worry when she finds out that four little wizards have disappeared from the school." He said calmly, as he gave them instructions.

    "But¨C"

    Hermione had no objection to Professor Watson''s arrangement. She just remembered the pipe that might be several miles long when she came. "How do we get back, Professor? We can''t go through that pipe!" She asked anxiously, as she wondered how they would escape from this dark and damp chamber.

    Fawkes stood on Ron''s chest and cried out, but Bryan shook his head at it.

    "You don''t have to bother, Fawkes. If you can, I hope you can go and inform Professor Dumbledore. I''m sorry, but I think his ''vacation time'' has to be canceled!"

    He said apologetically, as he asked the phoenix for another favor.

    Fawkes tilted his head and looked at Bryan with his crystal-clear eyes like gems. After a moment, it nodded humanely and disappeared in the secret chamber in a burst of explosive fire. It left behind a trail of sparks and feathers, as it flew away to find Dumbledore.

    "Well, it''s your turn now¨C"

    Bryan waved his wand at Harry and the others. In a sudden breeze, Harry found himself turning into a phantom shadow and flying quickly towards the entrance of the secret chamber without control. He felt a strange sensation of weightlessness and speed, as he zoomed through the air.

    "Professor Watson¨C"

    By the time Harry reacted, he had already appeared on the other side of the entrance to the secret chamber. He anxiously looked at Professor Watson who was quickly moving away from his sight and shouted,

    "Watch out for Voldemort, he''s in¨C"

    He tried to warn him about the dark lord''s presence in the chamber, but his voice was cut off by the distance.

    Bryan breathed a sigh of relief, turned around and faced the Basilisk that was lying on the ground in a pile, barely alive. He smiled happily. It wasn''t easy. After spending so much time and staying up so many nights, this Basilisk finally fell into his hands! He felt a sense of aplishment and satisfaction, as he looked at his prize.

    The Basilisk was an ancient creature that could generally live for hundreds of years, but this one in front of him had lived for more than a thousand years and still maintained such vigorous vitality. It seemed that Slytherin must have done many mysterious andplex modification experiments on it! Bryan wondered what secrets and powers it hid in its body.

    Bryan walked to the front of the cage and looked at the Basilisk''s bleeding eyes with dissatisfaction. He hoped that Kakus wouldn''t pick faults and deduct hismission when he ''checked the goods''. He hoped that he could still sell it for a good price.

    "It seems¨C"

    Just as Bryan was about to change the size of this huge Basilisk, a young and polite voice came from behind the pir behind him.

    "You seem to like it very much, Professor Watson. I inherited this Basilisk from my great ancestor. If you don''t mind, I can give it to you!"

    The voice was smooth and charming, but also cold and sinister.

    "Foolish¨C"

    Bryan turned around with a smile without any surprise. He looked at Tom Riddle, who had ck hair, tall stature, stood leaning against the stone pir, and dressed like a student. "Once I kill you, this Basilisk will be mine too!"

    /FicFrenzy

 080 Hocruxes

    080 Hocruxes

    The secret chamber, once a ce of dark rituals and hidden secrets, was now overflowing with a dazzling green light that cast eerie shadows on the walls. The cold air was filled with a suffocating pressure that weighed heavily on the lungs of the intruders. The snake monster in the cage, a basilisk that could kill with a single nce, seemed to regain some courage after the initial shock of the intrusion. It slightly raised its head, relying on its keen magic sense to capture the direction of its great master''s descendant, who had summoned it from its slumber. The scarlet snake constantly spit out and contracted, exposing its uneasiness and curiosity, but it did not dare to act rashly, for standing in front of it, a few steps away from the source of the huge magic power that filled the chamber, was another wizard who radiated an aura of danger and authority.

    Bryan and Tom Riddle looked at each other, their eyes locked in a silent duel. They were both the kind of wizards who could see through many things by sensing, who could perceive the subtle fluctuations of magic and emotion in their surroundings. Although they did not speak, they had already glimpsed each other''s strengths and weaknesses.

    "You don''t have to be like this, Professor Watson, we are friends not enemies, aren''t we?"

    Finally, it was Riddle who spoke first, breaking the tense silence. He had not fully resurrected yet and was undoubtedly in a disadvantageous position in the confrontation with Bryan. He showed a restrained smile, a gentle and polite voice as if Bryan was really his teacher,

    "I heard from Harry Potter some of your past and what happened after you returned to Hogwarts this time, Professor Watson. Without a doubt, you are not the kind ofmon, mediocre mediocrity that infests this school. We are all the kind of unique elites in the eyes of the great Szar Slytherin, the heirs of his legacy and vision. And now, Hogwarts and even the wizarding world are upied by hypocrites and a bunch of fools who only whitewash the peace, who deny the true nature of magic and its potential. The world urgently needs change, and only we can do it."

    "Voldemort¨C"

    Bryan interrupted Riddle''s speech, he tilted his head slightly, looking straight at the core of this hocrux with a prating gaze that seemed to pierce through the illusion. The wand spun at his fingertips with ease and grace, Bryan saidzily,

    "How many times do you think I have faced your hocrux?"

    Riddle stopped talking, he showed astonishment, his eyes flickered with calctions that quickly turned into a red light that only hungry wolves would show when hunting their prey. His wrinkled nostrils made his handsome face look fierce and ugly, as if his mask of charm and charisma had slipped for a moment.

    "What do you mean!"

    Riddle seemed to have given up on pretending, he red at Bryan viciously and asked in a demanding tone,

    "Hocrux. What is that thing? You mean you have faced my original body before? Then you should know that Voldemort is the greatest wizard in history! His power is something that those fools can''t imagine even if they rack their brains! He is beyond yourprehension!"

    Bryan pursed his lips slightly, he saw more things from the illusory figure of this boy in front of him than he had expected. Not evil magic to the extreme, nor heart-pounding magic power that could rival his own. But soul. Soul shining with color! This was really a wonderful thing!

    Bryan still remembered the soul fragment that waspletely soaked in endless lust and darkness when he destroyed the crown that year. That was something that could not bemunicated at all. It would only lure people to give up their lives with tempting magic that promised power and glory.

    "¨CBryan Watson. You have dealt with Dumbledore. You should know that he is a narrow-minded viin. He is wary of all talented young people and wants to destroy their talents. He fears anyone who could challenge his authority or expose his secrets. I can assure you that Dumbledore will deal with you one day. Oh no. He has already done it. Hasn''t he?"

    Riddle continued his attempt to persuade Bryan to join him, but his voice betrayed his frustration and impatience.

    Bryan''s increasingly oppressive gaze made Riddle feel like he had a fishbone stuck in his throat. He flipped his lips and said quickly,

    "The professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Was it Dumbledore who persuaded you to do this? Everyone knows that this course has been cursed by the Dark Lord himself. He wants to kill you with this. Take me out of here. Watson. When I recover all my magic power. I can help you deal with Dumbledore together!"

    Riddle tried to appeal to Bryan''s self-interest and resentment towards Dumbledore, hoping to find amon ground with him.

    Bryan had never dealt with Voldemort who had be the Dark Lord. But Tom Riddle in front of him was indeed very good at finding gaps and being cunning. He knew how to manipte people and use their emotions against them. He was a master of lies and deception.

    But Bryan was not fooled by his words. He knew that Riddle was only using him as a tool to escape his ''prison'' and regain his body.

    "It seems that this diary is the first hocrux you made. Right?"

    Bryan said softly a sentence that made Riddle speechless. He seemed to realize that no matter what he said, this new rising star of Slytherin House was not going to spare him.

    "¨CEmotionse from the soul," Bryan said, his voice calm and steady. "And hocruxs are evil magic that will strip away reason and emotion from the soul first. Turning people into madmen controlled by desire."

    Dada

    When Bryan stepped forward, the purple in his eyes began to fade at a speed visible to the naked eye. Under the influence of his thick magic power that could make fire dragons tremble, the air around Bryan twisted like the space on a scorching hot tar road in summer.

    The huge and empty secret chamber suddenly made a rumbling sound, as if it sensed the impending doom of its master. The snake monster in the cage, a basilisk that could kill with a single nce, made a fearful hiss. It hid its snake head in its coiled body, as if it wanted to escape from the sight of Bryan. It seemed to have seen Tom Riddle''s end.

    Szar Slytherin''s sculpture standing level with the ceiling silently watched Bryan Watson and Tom Riddle at his feet. The founder of Slytherin House had a proud and stern expression on his face, as if he was judging the two wizards. What would he think of their actions and choices? Would he approve of Riddle''s ambition? Would he respect Bryan''s courage to stand up against him? Would he see them as worthy sessors or as traitors to his legacy?

    "I saw from your soul the emotions that normal people would have. Riddle. Fear. Hatred. Loneliness. Oh. And many other interesting little emotions."

    "Wait. Wait a minute¨C"

    Riddle''s pale face was emitting a faint silver mist that was pushed back into his illusory body bit by bit. He couldn''t move and he struggled to squeeze out a voice from his teeth.

    "You crave power. Don''t you? We are all the same kind of people. Slytherin left more than one secret in this castle. Professor Watson. I am willing to share with you the ancient magic he left behind that has great power. As long as you¨C Ugh!"

    Riddle was speechless as Bryan approached him with a nk face. He felt a surge of terror as he saw the young professor''s body glow faintly. Riddle had been restless ever since he discovered that Bryan knew of his existence and wanted to reim his body as soon as he could. Now he saw Bryan slowly raising his hand, reaching for Riddle''s forehead with his fingertips.

    Ugh! Bryan ignored Riddle''s painful whimper, his fingertips, palms, arms and even his whole body bit by bit into Riddle''s body, as if he was absorbing his essence and magic. The diary in Riddle''s pocket flew out by itself and floated in mid-air, though there was no wind, but the pages in the diary rustled like they were blown by a strong wind, a wisp of ck smoke came out of the pages, in the empty secret chamber, such a scene was eerie and strange!

    A brilliant light shed in front of Bryan''s eyes, and when he came to his senses, his body had appeared in a strange space.

    This space was like the outer universe, vast and boundless, but devoid of any stars ors. The silent space was filled with tangible and sharp gray hurricanes, each of these air currents that dyed the space gray contained evil and powerful magic power, presumably, it was Voldemort''s protection magic applied to the diary and the hocrux itself.

    Huh. Boom boom!

    The fluorescence attached to Bryan''s body suddenly flourished, forming an oval magic barrier around him, protecting him from the hostile environment. Endless hurricanes hit the slightly reddish barrier with force and fury, but they could not break through it. The magic power of opposite nature counteracted each other and exploded with shes that made Bryan feel like he was standing in a raging fire!

    Bryan looked around, and soon sensed something strange in a space to his right front.

    There seemed to be the core of the whole gray world, a ball of light shining with ck and white that radiated ominous magic power to all sides. It was the hocrux, the fragment of Riddle''s soul that he had hidden in the diary. It was the source of his immortality and his weakness.

    "Ah, I found you¨C" Bryan smiled slightly, he took out a ss bottle from his chest, leisurely tidied up his cor, and walked slowly towards the ball of light.

    /FicFrenzy

 081 The Chamber of Secrets (Part-1)

    081 The Chamber of Secrets (Part-1)

    Half an hourter, Riddle''s figure had vanished, and the diary pages that contained his souly scattered on the ground like confetti, without a trace of magic. In the center of each page, there was a sharp hole, as if it had been dug out by a sharp dagger. The ink that once spelled his secrets had faded into nothingness.

    Bryan''s cage had also disappeared, and the Basilisk left by Slytherin was nowhere to be found. Only a faint smell of smoke and a few scales remained as evidence of its existence.

    Dumbledore looked solemn, he strode over the steps of the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, wearing a purple traveling cloak that fluttered behind him like a cape, and Harry followed him breathlessly, saying something anxiously. His sses were foggy and his hair was messy from the damp air.

    When he saw Bryan safe and sound at the foot of the Slytherin statue, Dumbledore''s expression finally rxed a bit, but his pace was still hurried.

    "Ah, you came so fast, Headmaster Dumbledore, oh, of course, and Potter¨C"

    Bryan withdrew his gaze from the sculpture and turned around with a light smile. His robes were spotless and his eyes were bright. He looked as if he had just returned from a pleasant stroll.

    "I''m d to see you''re all right, Bryan," Dumbledore said kindly as he approached quickly. He seemed to want to say something else, but his eyes were drawn by the diary on the floor. He picked up the broken diary and looked at the shattered pages with his deep blue eyes from his long crooked nose.

    "**Sigh**,"

    Dumbledore said softly, "Needless to say, he could probably be called the best wizard in Hogwarts history. Oh, and you too, Bryan. In my long life, I''ve never seen anyone better than you two. Of course, I mean in terms of magical talent."

    Harry seemed confused, he looked around, but didn''t see anything else in the chamber besides them, or any memories that could take shape.

    "Professor Watson, Voldemort and the Basilisk, where did they go, sir?" Bryan smiled regretfully and looked at Harry who was covered in dust. His face was pale and his clothes were torn from the Basilisk''s attack. He had a bandage around his arm where he had been bitten by that basilisk.

    "The Basilisk struggled very hard, I couldn''t control it with the cage I conjured with magic. I had no choice but to turn it into ashes. As for the memory stored in that evil magical device, it seemed to want to save its servant. When I was dealing with the Basilisk, it jumped out from behind a pir and tried to ambush me,"

    Bryan shrugged and said casually, "I was a bit nervous and used a very powerful spell, so it also disappeared¨C"

    Harry gasped. Professor Watson''s exnation was reasonable, but he always felt something was wrong. That was Slytherin''s legacy for his heir, a Basilisk that had created countless horror stories for a thousand years, and an evil magical artifact made by Voldemort himself. Why did it sound so easy to kill them in Professor Watson''s mouth? Was he hiding something?

    Hearing Bryan''s words, Dumbledore raised his head from studying the diary. He shook his silver eyebrows and a strange light shed in his blue eyes.

    "Anyway, Bryan," Dumbledore put the diary in his pocket and smiled happily and sincerely.

    "I want to thank you for fulfilling your duty as a professor while I was away from school for a few hours. I''m so d you saved Ginny Weasley. Otherwise, I don''t know how to exin to Arthur and Molly. You also protected Harry and his friends from the Basilisk and Voldemort. You lifted the shadow that hung over our heads this year¨C"

    Dumbledore blew his nose heavily and sounded emotional. "If it weren''t for you graduating from school already, I think a medal of special contribution would be the best reward for your brave and fearless behavior!"

    Cough cough¨C Dumbledore''s praise almost made Bryan blush. He pursed his lips and waved his hand modestly. Then he looked at Harry.

    ""You''re too kind, Headmaster Dumbledore. In fact, if it weren''t for Harry''s quick wit and keen discovery of the entrance to this chamber, I think everything wouldn''t be so easy!"

    "Oh, of course it is¨C"

    Dumbledore smiled at Harry who had red ears. "Just likest year when you saved the Philosopher''s Stone from Voldemort''s hands, your wisdom and courage made many wizards with fame and prestige including me feel ashamed. Harry, I think. I believe that if Lily and James were still alive, they would be proud of you"

    Harry opened his mouth. At this moment, he still had many doubts in his heart. For example, why did Fawkes suddenly appear when he was fighting with the Basilisk? For example, what was the deal with the sword that he took out of the Sorting Hat and that Dumbledore had taken back? And also this diary. But Harry didn''t ask any questions because Dumbledore''s words were like a boulder blocking his chest making him breathless. The green fire in the chamber that matched his eyes covered him up making his tears hard to notice.

    ''Yeah if they were still alive''

    Bryan moved his eyes away and continued to look at the huge ck hole that appeared on the stone face. It was a dark and mysterious opening that seemed to lead to an unknown ce. Dumbledore also tactfully walked a few steps forward and left Harry behind. He stood next to Bryan and looked at the hole along his gaze. His silver beard that could be tucked into his belt fluttered slightly and he said thoughtfully.

    "What do you think is there, right, Bryan?"

    "Something just feels wrong, Headmaster Dumbledore¨C"

    Bryan didn''t look at Dumbledore. His eyes flickered with an unreadable light. In fact, he didn''t feel anything wrong from that dark hole. What made him curious about the ck hole and determined to explore it was the memory he had recovered.

    "The Basilisk, after listening to Voldemort''s call, came out of there¨C"

    Harry woke up from his sad silence and answered their question.

    Dumbledore nodded indisputably. He looked down at Bryan with a probing gaze. After a while, he said calmly.

    "This ancient castle hides countless fascinating secrets, Bryan. Even if I''m the headmaster of this school and have read the notes of the previous headmasters, I may not know as much about this castle as the Weasley twins. If you think it''s necessary, I can go with you to see what''s there."

    Bryan bowed slightly and smiled gratefully. "I''m curious, Headmaster Dumbledore. Szar Slytherin left a Basilisk in such a hidden chamber, just for the rumor that he wanted to get rid of the non-pureblood wizards in the school. This doesn''t seem to be the breadth and vision of a wizard of his level."

    A ray of light shed across Dumbledore''s half-moon sses. "Rationally and reasonably judged, Bryan, since that''s the case¨C"

    Dumbledore seemed to have seen something but didn''t choose to expose it. He raised his elder wand and swung it down neatly. Immediately, the whole chamber shook violently. Pebbles and dust fell like a fierce storm. Harry quickly covered his forehead with his hand to avoid something falling into his eyes.

    He heard a loud rumbling sound as if the earth was splitting apart. Only a few secondster, the shaking world returned to calm. Harry brushed off ayer of gray on his robe and looked forward quickly. With one nce, he was shocked! A staircase leading directly to the dark stone face appeared out of thin air in front of Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson. The staircase was rough and dark, and it was two hundred feet high, like a pir reaching the sky. It looked ancient and majestic, as if it had been there for centuries.

    Harry was amazed. Turning a stone into a staircase shape was not difficult for him who had received two years of formal magic education but to create such a huge staircase Harry was sure that even if he was squeezed dry in a juicer he wouldn''t be able to produce that much magic!

    /FicFrenzy

 082 The Chamber of Secrets (Part-2)

    082 The Chamber of Secrets (Part-2)

    Dumbledore and Bryan finally reached a consensus, after a brief but intense debate. They were ready to go into the huge hole in Slytherin''s face to explore the secrets hidden behind the stone wall, but for Harry''s stay, the two had a little disagreement.

    Dumbledore seemed to think that what was guarded by a snake monster by one of the great founders of the four houses, Szar Slytherin, would not be a simple thing. There might be unimaginable dangers in the hole, lurking in the dark and waiting for intruders. Harry was just an underage little wizard, and he did not have the ability to cope with unknown dangers. He should stay behind and wait for their return.

    "No one is born to be able to face everything calmly, Headmaster Dumbledore," Bryan looked at Harry who was a little dejected, and said with a deep meaning, "If you want young people to grow up as soon as possible, you have to give them more opportunities to practice¨C"

    In the end, Headmaster Dumbledore still followed Bryan''s reasonable suggestion. He knew that Harry had a curious and adventurous spirit, and that he had already faced many perils in his short life. He also knew that Harry had a special connection with Slytherin, through the Parseltongue he inherited from Voldemort. Perhaps he could discover something that they could not.

    "You have to promise me,"

    Dumbledore looked at Harry solemnly and said, "If we encounter danger , I and Professor Watson will give you the instruction to run away, you have to follow our orders"

    "I promise, Headmaster Dumbledore!"

    Harry nodded eagerly. Dumbledore''s words hurt Harry''s self-esteem a bit, but when he thought that he could go on an unknown adventure with two powerful wizards, Harry''s mood was as light as flying. He also did not believe that with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson standing in front of him, there was any danger that could harm his life.

    "Even ten Voldemorts can''t do it!"

    As Dumbledore and Bryan stepped on the stairs, Harry secretly grinned and thought so. Although it must be veryte now, although he had experienced a legendary battle tonight, Harry''s spirit was still extremely excited. He felt a rush of adrenaline in his veins, and a spark of curiosity in his eyes. However, his excitement onlysted until the moment he stepped into the hole.

    The passage of the hole was not as winding and long as they had imagined. It was just that the bones of various animals piled up on the ground were more than twice as many as the stone tunnel after they came down from the pipe. When they stepped on it, they could clearly hear the sound of various weathered bones breaking into g. It was like walking on a carpet of death. The smell of decay and blood filled their nostrils, making them nauseous.

    As they ventured deeper , the air became thick with the scent of blood. They saw bones scattered on the floor, some still bearing the grisly remains of fur and flesh. Among them were mouse skulls stained with dried blood and heaps of severed spider legs. Harry wondered what monstrous creature had feasted on these prey, and if it was still lurking in the shadows.

    "Ah¨C"

    For some reason, Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh. However, facing Bryan''s probing gaze, he just shook his head and didn''t say much. Harry sensed that there was something Dumbledore was not telling them, something that made him sad.

    The three of them passed a corner and followed a road cleared by the snake monster''s swimming trajectory for about half a mile. Then, the scene in the tunnel gradually changed. A golden torch every thirty feet apart was ced on the walls of the tunnel on both sides. The stable heat emitted by them dried up the damp stone walls and made the ground dry.

    The air became fresh, there were no bones on the ground, and even dust and cobwebs were not visible. Harry even felt that this ce wasparable to the corridors in the castle maintained by Filch.

    "Tsk tsk¨C"

    Bryan stood in front of a torch and stared at the swaying me. He praised sincerely, "Extravagant Slytherin ah"

    Finally out of the sea of bones, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Then he heard Professor Watson''s awe-inspiring praise. He looked at Dumbledore and hoped to get an exnation.

    "This eternal fire is very precious, because it will never go out¨C" Dumbledore looked at those unclear number of torches with appreciative eyes and said gently.

    "It takes a lot of magic power to make this ancient fire. As far as I know, no one can make such a number of eternal mes at once."

    Harry gasped and figured out the value of these bronze torches. But at the same time, he was a little unhappy because he heard somepliments for Slytherin from Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson.

    "Perhaps Gryffindor would be better¨C" Harry muttered softly.

    The fire dyed Dumbledore''s silver eyebrows and beard red, giving him a warm and gentle appearance. He heard Harry''s dissatisfiedint and chuckled softly. He extinguished his wand''s glow and stood in front of everyone, leading the way with confidence.

    The tunnel became more and more spacious, as if it was weing them to the heart of the mystery. At the end of sight was a stable bright light, beckoning them toe closer. Bryan''s expression was solemn. He clenched his wand tightly and followed quickly, alert for any signs of danger.

    As they approached gradually, the deepest secret hidden in this underground chamber finally unveiled its mysterious veil! This was a huge cave with an area of about three or four Quidditch fields. It was like a hidden world under the castle, full of wonders and secrets. At the top of the cave that was more than three hundred feet high, there were many rough and huge circr stone pirs protruding from between the stctites that were densely packed. Those stone pirs arranged in a certain order were simr in color to Hogwarts Castle. They seemed to be the load-bearing pirs that support the whole castle!

    "Too crazy."

    The air was filled with wind howling, echoing in the vast space. The mysterious voice was like history singing the years, telling them the stories of the past.

    Bryan looked around the huge cave walls, admiring the craftsmanship and magic of Slytherin. Every distance there was an Ancient Fire torch, burning with a golden me that never faded. He uttered a shocked whisper. Those torches that emitted constant light illuminated the whole cave as bright as daylight. At the same time, the strong magic field radiated by them also resisted all positioning spells, making this ce impossible to find by anyone else.

    "It''s hard to imagine how powerful Slytherin himself was, that he could be so extravagant. No wonder that snake monster could survive for a thousand years. In such a rich magic environment, I''m afraid any creature can have a life span of thirty or fifty years longer than the original."

    Harry, whocked a substantive understanding of the difficulty of making Ancient Fire, could not appreciate Professor Watson''s shock. But the destion and magnificence that permeated the cave full of strange-shaped stone cones and stctites still made him speechless. He felt like he had entered a fairy tale world, where anything could happen.

    "Yes, great Slytherin¨C"

    Dumbledore was also surprised by the scene in front of him, and he also made a simr feeling. "But what I''m more curious about is, what is Szar Slytherin''s purpose for building this chamber."

    Bryan retracted his gaze and nodded. He turned around and looked at Harry who was fascinated by the ghostly scenery. He warned,

    "Now it seems that the secret hidden in this chamber of secrets will be shocking. Potter, remember to stay alert."

    Harry nodded hesitantly, but his curious eyes still wandered around. He looked at the deep gullies on the undting ground, stared at the ck stone cones that looked like giant teeth, and suddenly, Harry''s expression froze. He widened his eyes and looked in a certain direction. And when he confirmed what he saw, Harry''s face turned pale and shouted,

    "Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Watson, there''s someone there!"

    /FicFrenzy

 083 The Chamber of Secrets (Part-3)

    083 The Chamber of Secrets (Part-3)

    As he approached the figure, Harry felt a surge of heat in his cheeks, ashamed of his excessive nervousness. He realized that what he had seen before was not a living person, but just a lifelike statue that seemed to breathe and blink.

    This was the statue of Szar Slytherin, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. But unlike the huge, old, and lifeless one in the Chamber of Secrets, this sculpture depicted Szar Slytherin in his youth, when he was still a powerful and ambitious wizard.

    He sat on a stone throne below him, leaning his back on the ornate chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and slightly raising his chin, his eyes full of scrutiny and authority, and a hint of displeasure between his sharp eyebrows. His long ck hair fell over his shoulders, framing his pale and handsome face.

    The statue''s eyes were reced by ck gems that sparkled in the dim light. The fiery gaze made the sculpture seem alive and aware. No matter which angle you looked at it from, it seemed like Szar Slytherin himself was staring at you, judging your worthiness and purity.

    Even Harry had to admit that the finely carved statue, which showed every strand of hair and every wrinkle of cloth clearly, proved that Slytherin''s appearance was indeed very outstanding. He wore exquisite wizarding robes that matched the colors of his house: green and silver. His extraordinary temperament could be called peerless and intimidating.

    But no matter what, Slytherin had vanished in the torrent of time, and even if this statue was more realistic than any painting or photograph, it was just a piece of stone that bore his likeness.

    After expressing their respect to the founder of Hogwarts with a slight bow, Bryan and Dumbledore quickly bypassed the statue and stepped behind it to a stone door that was far more magnificent than the castle gate. The door was carved with intricate patterns and symbols that Harry could not recognize. It looked ancient and mysterious, as if guarding a great secret.

    "It seems that this is Slytherin''s final legacy left in the school¨C"

    Bryan looked up at the pitted surface of the stone door, trying to see where the top of the door was, but when his neck was sore, he couldn''t achieve his attempt.

    The door was so tall that it almost touched the ceiling of the cave. It seemed impossible to open by any ordinary means. Dumbledore, who had seen ups and downs in his long life, was more interested in what was hidden behind the door. He walked quickly to the front of the stone door, and his long and old hand touched the stone wall gently, as if trying to sense something through a special magic perspective. But this stone door left by Slytherin himself isted everything. Even Dumbledore, such a powerful and wise wizard, couldn''t sense anything behind the door before it opened.

    "Do you think Tom Riddle came here back then?"

    Bryan stepped back a few steps. Since Dumbledore couldn''t break through, he didn''t need to make futile attempts.

    "Yes, I think so, Bryan¨C"

    Dumbledore moved a few steps and looked at a brown spot on the stone wall with his deep blue eyes attentively. He said calmly, "Obviously, he couldn''t open this door either."

    "But isn''t this the chamber that Slytherin left for his heirs? Since he can open the Chamber of Secrets"

    Harry couldn''t help but speak out without wanting to disturb Dumbledore and Professor Watson''s research. Although he thought this stone door was very spectacr, it didn''t bring him as much shock as being in this cave.

    "Yes, this is indeed very strange¨C"

    For some reason, Dumbledore looked a bit worried. He seemed to have a bad feeling about what they might find inside.

    At this time, Harry had another discovery. He saw that there seemed to be a line of words carved on the stone wall on the right side of the stone door. They were written in an old-fashioned script that Harry could barely read. So he reminded them again.

    "Only those with pure blood can open the door!"

    Bryan read this sentence softly and then sneered. "It looks like Slytherin''s style indeed."

    He shook his head in disgust. He didn''t like the Slytherin''s prejudice and arrogance towards those who were not pure-blooded wizards.

    "I don''t think it''s that simple, Bryan. If you don''t believe me, we can try it." Dumbledore''s eyes flickered with curiosity and determination. He rolled up his sleeves and exposed his left arm.

    "Headmaster Dumbledore!"

    Harry immediately understood what Dumbledore was going to do. He hurriedly walked up to him and also exposed his arm.

    "You can use mine!"

    "Oh, thank you¨C" Dumbledore smiled kindly. "But ording to Slytherin''s words, I think among the three of us here, only I meet the requirements."

    A silver light shed in the air, like a de cutting through the darkness. Dumbledore''s arm spurted out a dark red blood that looked almost ck in contrast with his pale skin. The rough stone door was immediately covered with dark red blood beads that seeped into the cracks and crevices of the wall. Under the influence of mysterious magic, these blood beads did not fall to the ground but quickly rolled towards the thin crack in the center of the stone door, as if they were drawn by a ma.

    Huh!

    After swallowing Dumbledore''s blood, a light blue smoke sprayed out from the thin crack, creating a misty halo around the door. It looked like a sign of recognition or rejection, but then it fell into silence again, leaving no trace of any change.

    Harry felt a surge of disappointment and frustration. He had expected the door to open with a loud bang or a bright sh, revealing the secrets that Slytherin had hidden for centuries. But nothing happened. The door remained closed and silent, as if mocking their efforts. But Dumbledore and Bryan looked calm andposed, as if they had anticipated this oue.

    "Why do you think this is the result, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    Bryan asked with an expression that suggested he had an answer in his mind. He was not surprised by the failure, but rather curious about the reason behind it.

    "It can only be guessed¨C" Dumbledore nced at Harry and chose his words carefully. He did not want to reveal too much to the young boy who had already seen and suffered too much.

    "Slytherin''s idea of pure blood may be different from ours. He probably meant his own descendants."

    "But Voldemort failed!"

    Harry remembered what Tom Riddle told him in the Chamber of Secrets. Voldemort was Slytherin''s descendant, a true heir who could speak Parseltongue andmand the Basilisk.

    Harry immediately said. "The diary told me that Voldemort was Slytherin''s descendant. But he oh!"

    Harry realized that Tom Riddle had also said to him that Slytherin''s bloodline in his body was passed on to him by his mother, Merope Gaunt, who was a descendant of Slytherin through the female line. His father, Tom Riddle Sr., was a Muggle who had abandoned his mother when he found out she was a witch.

    The three people in front of the stone door fell into a long silence. Harry couldn''t ept that Dumbledore and Professor Watson had no way to deal with this stone door. Because it meant that this rare ''adventure'' experience was dered a failure. They hade all this way, risking their lives and breaking countless rules, only to find a dead end. Unless they could find Voldemort''s cousins or something, which seemed highly unlikely.

    Harry knew that Dumbledore and Professor Watson were discussing some terrible secrets, but he couldn''t catch a word of their conversation. They spoke in a low and fast voice, as if they were afraid of being overheard. Harry strained his ears, but all he heard was a jumble of unfamiliar words and terms.

    Bryan rubbed his hair annoyedly and looked at Dumbledore.

    "Do you think it''s possible?"

    He asked with a serious tone, as if he was afraid of the answer. "It''s hard to say, Bryan,"

    Dumbledore replied with a grave expression. He obviously understood Bryan''s vague question. He frowned and answered. "But I think there is only a theoretical possibility, because whether it is physically or mentally, he is unlikely to-"

    He stopped abruptly and turned his head to stare deeply at the statue of Slytherin sitting there. He sighed deeply, as if he was carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders.

    "I sincerely hope that there will never be a day when we have to face the situation where we have to open this stone door. But if that situation really happens, oh, that might be the most troublesome thing I have encountered in my life¨C"

    He did not finish his sentence, but Harry could sense the dread and worry in his voice. He wondered what kind of situation would force them to open this door, and what kind of horror would await them behind it.

    Many troubles were ended this night, and many troubles buried the roots of disaster, which would explode one day in the future.

    Harry did not know it yet, but he would soon find out that this night was only the beginning of a series of events that would change his life forever. He was ordered by Dumbledore to go to the hospital wing for Madame Pomfrey''s examination. Even though he repeatedly emphasized that he had not suffered any serious injuries, Dumbledore still insisted on his opinion.

    "¨CI know you have a lot of doubts in your heart, Harry, but now is not a good time to chat. After you have had enough rest, you cane to my office and talk to me."

    He said gently, as he escorted Harry out of the cave and back to Hogwarts.

    "But the board!" Harry stood in the hall and looked at Dumbledore with surprise. He remembered that Lucius Malfoy and the other board members had tried to sack Dumbledore earlier that night, using him of ipetence and negligence.

    "You have solved the trouble?!"

    "Oh, of course¨C" Dumbledore looked at Harry gently and smiled lightly. He seemed to be in a good mood, despite the failure at the stone door.

    "I had been alerted to Lucius Malfoy''s scheme a long time ago. I imagine he will be furious when he learns that I am still the headmaster of Hogwarts tomorrow morning. He will probably storm into my office for a heated argument¨C"

    He chuckled softly, as if he was looking forward to it.

    Harry ran up the stairs all the way. He seemed not so resistant to going to the Hospital Wing. Because he suddenly remembered that Ron and Hermione were also in the Hospital Wing. He couldn''t wait to share with them what happened tonight.

    "I''m sorry, Bryan. I know you need to rest now¨C"

    Dumbledore gave Bryan an apologetic look. He was aware of how much energy and magic Bryan had spent in their journey, and how weary he must be feeling.

    "But would you mind having a chat with me, an old man who doesn''t need much sleep?"

    He asked politely, as he led Bryan to his office. Bryan felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He had a bad feeling that the real trouble was yet toe.

    /FicFrenzy

 084 Bryanâ€™s Choice

    084 Bryan¡¯s Choice

    The emerald willow branches swayed their graceful figures with the cool breeze of the night, and the bright moonlight shone on the ripplingke, creating a silver shimmer on the surface. Except for the hospital wing, where a few students stilly unconscious, the dimly lit Hogwarts castle exuded a cheerful and peaceful atmosphere again. The dark clouds that had enveloped the castle''s top at the beginning of the night had dispersed cleanly, revealing a starry sky.

    Dumbledore and Bryan walked side by side along theke, neither of them in a hurry to speak, but quietly enjoying the rare tranquility of the moment.

    "The Chamber of Secrets has been resolved, Headmaster Dumbledore, I''m afraid I''ll have to leave soon."

    Bryan broke the silence after five minutes. He stopped under a crooked-necked willow tree, facing the undtingke, carefully savoring theplex emotions in his chest. He felt a mix of relief, sadness, and nostalgia. He had grown fond of this magical school and its inhabitants, but he knew he didn''t belong here.

    "Don''t you want to think about it, Bryan?" Dumbledore didn''t seem surprised, but his old face still showed obvious regret.

    He said sincerely, "In my opinion, you are a verypetent professor, you get along well with this school, and the young wizards like you very much. If possible, I don''t want to lose an excellent teacher like you."

    Bryan smiled and didn''t say anything. He believed that Dumbledore should be able to guess his choice. He hade to Hogwarts for a specific purpose, and now that he had aplished it, he had to return to his own world.

    Dumbledore looked more tired than any time this semester. He didn''t continue this topic. His long life had given him wisdom that was no less than anyone else''s. He knew better than anyone what could be changed and what could not. He also knew that Bryan had secrets that he didn''t want to share.

    "So¨C"

    Dumbledore took out that tattered diary from his pocket. Earlier, he had brought it out of the Chamber of Secrets. Under the moonlight, a drop of water flew into the air with the rising waves andnded precisely on the diary, leaving a clear stain on it.

    "I think you must have recognized what this thing is, Bryan?" He asked in a low voice.

    "Oh, Headmaster Dumbledore, you might have overestimated me a bit. I know nothing about Horcruxes."

    Bryan winked at Dumbledore with a bitter smile. It was not easy to hide something from a person who had a rich life experience and was also a master of Legilimency. Bryan just used a joking way to express that he didn''t want to go into depth about Horcruxes.

    "Let''s just leave it at that."

    Dumbledore put the diary back in his pocket. He took a deep breath and looked at the edge of the endless forest, where the dimly lit wooden hut was. There lived Hagrid, the half-giant gamekeeper who loved all kinds of magical creatures.

    "There is one thing that I''m afraid you can''t pretend not to know, Bryan¨C" Dumbledore''s tone became slightly serious, "I hope you can return that Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets to me."

    Ssh!

    The strong wind carried the waves and mmed them against the shore, making Bryan''s neatlybed hair dance wildly. He reached out his hand to hold his head and sighed heavily with the raging wind. He knew this moment woulde sooner orter.

    Dumbledore knew he hadn''t killed that Basilisk. That was obvious. Such a clumsy lie couldn''t deceive Dumbledore. Bryan even suspected that the great headmaster next to him had already ''seen'' the Basilisk lying in his arms with his unique eyes.

    Bryan said that in the Chamber of Secrets just to tell Dumbledore that he wanted to keep this Basilisk. He thought that since he had solved the Chamber of Secrets problem, Dumbledore wouldn''t refuse this ''trivial'' request.

    "I hope you can understand my difficulties, Bryan,"

    Bryan''s ''stubborn'' face made Dumbledore feel helpless, "Hagrid is now locked up in Azkaban. I have toe up with some evidence to prove to the Ministry of Magic that it was not Hagrid''s old spider named Aragog that attacked the young wizards fifty years ago and now. This diary has been destroyed. And I don''t think Voldemort''s Horcrux is very suitable to be presented as evidence either. That Basilisk is a strong proof." He looked at Bryan with a pleading expression.

    Bryan''s expression darkened. To be honest, he hadn''t considered Hagrid.

    The situation was a bit tricky. Hagrid was Dumbledore''s number one loyal confidant. Bryan knew that Dumbledore would never let Hagrid be locked up in Azkaban. He also knew that the Ministry of Magic was corrupt and biased, and that they wouldn''t listen to reason without solid evidence.

    But if he gave up the Basilisk, what about his mission? Did he spend months of time and use a very precious voodoo doll to resist Voldemort''s curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, only to end up with nothing?

    No, this was absolutely impossible.

    Dumbledore read his attitude from Bryan''s silence and continued, "This Basilisk needs to be handed over to the Ministry of Magic for those two attacks on young wizardsst semester. Cornelius ordered The Daily Prophet to remain silent."

    He said this in a matter-of-fact tone, as if it was not negotiable.

    Heh! Bryanughed sarcastically and still didn''t say anything, but he was already calcting what he should do if things got out of handter. He knew that Dumbledore was not someone he could easily fool or persuade.

    Bryan wouldn''t arrogantly think that he could defeat Dumbledore. But since he entered Hogwarts as a student, he had worked hard for so many years and prepared for so many years. He had even gained the trust of Dumbledore himself. If he couldn''t even escape from Dumbledore''s face, he would be too pathetic.

    Ever since he took on this task and decided to enter Hogwarts, Bryan had foreseen this awkward situation. He had always known that there may be a conflict between his mission and Dumbledore''s interests. He had hoped that he could avoid it or resolve it peacefully, but he had also nned for the worst-case scenario.

    Bryan stared at the risingke with a gloomy look, and nced at the school''s big iron gate with the corner of his eye. He had already nned that once he started, he would leave Hogwarts as quickly as possible and then flee by Apparition. He had hidden some emergency supplies, equipment and portkeys in a secret location outside the school grounds. He also had some backup ns in case something went wrong.

    The tacit understanding between Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge had nothing to do with him. As for Hagrid, he did feel a bit sorry, but he believed that Dumbledore could handle it. If not, he would go to Azkaban himself after handing over the task to Kakus Fawley.

    He hoped that Hagrid would forgive him for this. It was just that he didn''t have a chance to say goodbye to Professor Snape and Hermione, Harry and the others, which made him feel a bit regretful.

    The endlesske water hit the shore. Dumbledore shook off the crystal drops on his silver-white beard. He looked more helpless as he sensed the hostility from Bryan. He frowned slightly, as if he was also thinking about how to resolve the conflict.

    "Bryan."

    After a while, Dumbledore seemed to have decided something and his expression became cheerful again. He whispered Bryan''s name and took out a money bag from his chest and handed it to Bryan. The money bag looked different from the one Dumbledore gave Bryan at the beginning of the semester. It seemed more like a personal item. It was made of leather and embroidered with golden runes. It jingled softly as it moved in Dumbledore''s hand.

    "What do you mean, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    Bryan squinted his eyes and moved his gaze away from the money bag, looking directly at Dumbledore''s smiling eyes,

    "Because you can''t award me a special contribution medal, so you changed it to Galleons as a reward?"

    He asked sarcastically, not understanding what Dumbledore was trying to do. "Not at all, Bryan,"

    Dumbledore''s unique beard reflected the white moonlight, as if he was radiating light all over. He winked at Bryan in a yful way like before,

    "Actually, I didn''t n to tell you this¨C"

    Bryan''s eyes widened in puzzlement as Dumbledore spoke cheerfully, "This is not a special contribution bonus, Mr. Golden Viper. This is the payment for themission task you epted¨C"

    /FicFrenzy

 085 The Commissioner

    085 The Commissioner

    Not far from the shore of the ckke, two heads suddenly emerged from the dark water. They were two mermaids with silvery scales and long hair, who happened toe to the surface to get some fresh air. When they spotted Dumbledore standing on the shore, holding a money bag in his hand, they were curious and wanted to greet him. But before they could swim closer, an icy chill swept over the surface of theke, making the two taciturn mermaids'' bodies stiffen on the spot. They felt a powerful magic emanating from the two wizards on the shore, and they sensed danger. They neither dared to dive back into the depths nor approach the shore. They could only watch in fear and awe as the confrontation unfolded.

    "Are the Fawley family still alive?"

    Bryan''s eyes were cold and piercing, as he red at Dumbledore with suspicion and anger. He had dropped his disguise of a friendly and generous professor, and revealed his true identity as the Gold Viper, a notorious ''dark'' wizard who hunted formisions in the underground world of Knockturn Alley.

    "The Fawley family is of course still alive, Bryan. In fact,"

    Dumbledore''s voice was calm and gentle, as if he was talking about the weather. His whole body was radiating coldness, He didn''t seem to be affected by Bryan''s hostility or threat. He looked at Bryan amiably with his blue eyes twinkling and his long beard trembling slightly in the wind. He said,

    "If you had carefully read the issue of the Prophet at the end of January, you would know that not only are the Fawley family safe and sound, but they have also weed something worth celebrating. Mr. Kakus Fawley''s sister, Ms. Adele Fawley, has been appointed as the head of the Department of Strange Bacterial Infections at St Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries. To be honest, I think she deserved it. Adele dreamed of being able to pursue a career as a healer when she was studying at Hogwarts."

    "Enough, Headmaster Dumbledore,"

    Bryan closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. He was shocked and furious by what he had just heard.

    "Impressive, really impressive. I have never, not even for a second, considered this possibility. You actually have the ability to undo the shackles of an Unbreakable Vow."

    "Magic must also follow rules, Bryan. You must understand this principle. The more powerful the spell, the more it is constrained by the rules," Dumbledore said mildly with a faint smile on his face.

    "The restraint of the Unbreakable Vow is guaranteed by the wizard''s soul. I am not as powerful as you imagine, able to unravel such a covenant."

    "So¨C"

    Bryan still had his eyes closed facing the ck Lake. No one knew that at this moment, all the colors in his eyes had faded away, and they had reverted to their original brown color. Dumbledore''s words made his brow furrow in confusion.

    "You knew from the beginning that the Gold Viper was me, didn''t you?-but how?"

    "What do you think?"

    Dumbledore did not deny this statement. He seemed to think it was a bit silly and tiring to keep holding up the money bag, so he retracted his hand again. From beginning to end, he never had the idea of taking out his wand or attacking Bryan first.

    "Ha!"

    The moment Bryan opened his eyes, he let out a mockingugh that echoed across theke. The frantic winds around him intensified, pressing down the trunks of a row of willows on the shore. The small patch ofke surface in front of them suddenly shook violently, creating huge waves that sshed onto thend. The two frightened mermaids gasped and squealed, as they were tossed around by the water. They rolled their eyes upwards, hoping that someone woulde to their rescue. Their limp bodies rose and fell with the increasingly magnificent waves, like two rag dolls.

    The coldness in Bryan''s brown eyes was extremely real and terrifying. The corners of his mouth tilted upwards slightly, forming a smile. The unruly aura surrounding him was almost too much even for Dumbledore''s all-epassing gaze.

    "It was Remus Lupin, wasn''t it?"

    Bryan''s voice was icy cold.

    "Among that group of werewolves, I only left him behind. He assured me that he would not reveal my true appearance to anyone, so I was soft-hearted for a moment and spared him. Now it seems that I have made a serious mistake!"

    Three years ago, when Bryan had just started operating in the underground world, he quickly gained a reputation and a fortune for his wless execution of a series ofmissions. He was skilled, ruthless, and cunning, and he always delivered what he promised. That day, he was at the trading market, negotiating with some shady dealers over some valuable antiques that he had acquired from a risky mission, when a group of greedy werewolves led by Fenrir Greyback ambushed him.

    That was the first time Bryan fought with someone else in the underground world. The battle was extremely fierce and bloody. Seven or eight werewolves were impaled on the jagged rocks that lined the walls of the dark tunnels. They howled and writhed in agony, but Bryan showed no mercy. He fought his way from underground to the surface, using his wand and his wits to fend off the attackers. Finally, in the small square at the entrance of the underground world, in front of the majestic statue of Merlin, they fought a final deadly battle.

    The result of the battle was undoubtedly Bryan''s ultimate victory, but he also made a fatal mistake.

    At that time, like most people in the underground world, he simply used a mask to cover his face, rather than using magic forprehensive protection. He thought it was enough to conceal his identity and avoid unwanted attention. But he was wrong. Because of the fierce battle, his mask was torn, identally exposing his true face to some of the werewolves.

    Almost all the werewolves who saw his face that day bled to death on the spot, There was only one exception: Remus Lupin.

    There were two reasons why Bryan spared that haggard-looking werewolf. First, throughout the battle, Lupin, who was with the werewolves, did not release a spell at him. He only defended passively, blocking and dodging Bryan''s attacks. He seemed to be forced by the werewolves to do these shady things, rather than of his own ord.

    Second, one werewolf let out a shrill, miserable scream before dying, howling Remus Lupin''s name, hoping Lupin would save it. It was this howl that brought Bryan''s remaining vague memories surging up. He remembered that Remus Lupin seemed to be a very important character in the plot of Harry Potter''s story, so to avoid triggering a disastrous chain reaction that might alter the course of the story, Bryan spared him.

    If it was Bryan today, whose methods were already quiteprehensive and cautious, even if he chose to spare Remus Lupin again, he would definitely, like Kakus Fawley, make an Unbreakable Vow with him to ensure his silence. But Bryan at that time had just left school and was operating freely in the dark side of the magical world for the first time. His experience was not yet "rich" enough to foresee all the possible consequences of his actions. He left a hidden danger that woulde back to haunt him.

    "This is a ''mistake'' worth celebrating,"

    Dumbledore nodded at him, finally looking solemn and serious.

    "If you had made the ''right'' choice that day, Bryan, I''m afraid I could only regretfully tell Severus that if he wanted to see you again, he''d have to go to Azkaban."

    "Do you think he is more noble than that group of werewolves, Dumbledore?"

    Bryan mocked with scorn that was oddly reminiscent of Professor Snape. His eyes were full of ridicule as he questioned Dumbledore''s judgment.

    "How many burries and robberies did Remus Lupin privatelymit with that group of werewolves? Do you know, Dumbledore? How many innocent people did he hurt or kill? If I deserve Azkaban for my crimes, then he is equally guilty!"

    "That was not Remus''s intention, Bryan,"

    Dumbledore''s voice weakened. He looked quite tired and sad.

    "You and I both know that the magical world we live in is full of prejudice and discrimination. Remus was originally a normal wizard like everyone else, but an unfortunate incident in his childhood forced him to face this tragic fate.

    He needed to survive, but the Werewolf Code of Conduct and the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Half-Breeds made it almost impossible for him to find a decent job or a safe ce to live in the magical world. Out of desperation and coercion, he mixed with Greyback and his werewolves. As I said, Bryan, this was not Remus''s intention. He has always adhered to not harming anyone during his transformations or otherwise. His conscience has been tortured by his condition and his circumstances."

    "So what, Dumbledore?" Bryan sneered. "Is he innocent? Does that absolve him of all responsibility? Does that make him worthy of your trust and protection?"

    Theplexity and cruelty of reality and human nature were insurmountable mountains that loomed over the world. Even a powerful wizard like Dumbledore felt powerless when facing this mountain. He could not change people''s prejudices, because prejudices were also the "correct" ideas derived from reality. Even if he was determined to overthrow the Ministry of Magic, it would be the same. He would only rece one form of oppression with another.

    Staring at the silent Dumbledore, Bryan sneered softly. His cold eyes reflected the dark water of theke. The wind died down and the calmingke surface looked as deep and dark as an abyss. Bryan gazed at theke surface, as if he and this darkness had be one.

    "Since thismission was issued by you, Headmaster Dumbledore,"

    Finally, after the long silent confrontation, Bryan, who seemed to have regained his calm, asked in an undisturbed tone. His voice was low and smooth, like a snake''s hiss.

    "What was your purpose in going through so much trouble to get me back to Hogwarts? I don''t think it would simply be to y a prank on me, would it?"

    /FicFrenzy

 086 Conversation at the Black Lake

    086 Conversation at the ck Lake

    "People have always thought I was always right, omnipotent, Bryan," Dumbledore said in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. In the endless darkness at the center, near the edge of the world, a faint glow had floated up, heralding the imminent arrival of dawn. It was the coldest time before the break of day, and Dumbledore felt it in his bones. He took off his sses and rubbed his eyebrows wearily, as if trying to erase the traces of his past.

    "But I have always believed that the mistakes I made are much more serious than my insignificant contributions." His eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he gazed at the young and excellent wizard beside him.

    Bryan did not speak, he was waiting for Dumbledore to give him a reasonable exnation. If Dumbledore could not justify his actions, then this matter would create an unbridgeable rift between the two, and even in the future may make them enemies.

    He paused and sighed. "Very few people know that I was the one who visited Tom at the orphanage and delivered his eptance letter to Hogwarts." He continued, obviously also knowing he had to give Bryan an exnation as soon as possible. He did not beat around the bush and exined directly,

    "The innate arrogance and cruelty in his personality that he demonstrated to me when I first saw him in the orphanage, as well as his exceptional magical talent, made me feel uneasy. But I assure you, Bryan, I never expected that the unfortunate little boy wouldmit such unforgivable crimes in the future."

    Voldemort actually grew up in an orphanage too?

    Bryan''s eyelids twitched slightly, roughly understanding what Dumbledore was trying to express.

    "¨CIn the eyes of all the professors, he was a polite, quiet student who thirsted for knowledge like food. Handsome, talented, cultured and refined. In short, from the time he entered Hogwarts to his graduation, including Armando Dippet who was the headmaster at the time, many faculty members thought his future achievements would be limitless."

    Tragic upbringing, outstanding magical talent, good at self-concealment.

    Bryan let out a meaningless coldugh. To say so, he and Voldemort did have many simrities. With this lesson from the past, it was no wonder that Dumbledore had kept a close eye on him ever since that Christmas night in his fifth year!

    "I think you already understand, Bryan -" Dumbledore spoke sadly, "I have always worried about history repeating itself, but I also know that I cannot arbitrarily judge your future. Since you left school, I have been caught in a dilemma: on one hand, I hope you can live within my sight; while on the other hand, I also know that you are a wizard with your own ideas. If I interfere with your choices too much through Severus, then perhaps Voldemort''s past will be your future in a few years.

    To be honest, I haven''t hesitated like this for many years. Bryan, I''ve been trying to convince myself that through these years of observation, I believe there are fundamental differences between you and Tom. You have love in your heart; you don''t crave power; you don''t want to make a name for yourself; and you don''t want to make yourself feared.

    But I never dared topletely put my mind at ease. The painful history of the past shows that I always make serious mistakes on critical issues. Considering my age, I think I won''t have the chance to correct my own mistakes again."

    To be honest, Bryan had always respected Dumbledore in his heart.

    This old man, who could be called the living history of the modern magical world, probably hadn''t had many days of peace andfort over the years. He had always worked tirelessly using his wisdom to n for the peace and stability of the magical world. Bryan admitted that he did not have such great aspirations.

    "¨CI don''t want to deceive you, Bryan. Remus'' letter describing the conflict between you and Greyback''s werewolves and asking about your background intensified my concerns. I am very afraid of the worst possibilities happening to you."

    "I have my principles, Dumbledore."

    Bryan understood Dumbledore''s concerns, but when he himself was the subject of suspicion, Bryan felt extremely helpless.

    "You don''t ept anymissions against wizards or muggles, right?"

    Dumbledore twitched his long silver beard and looked at Bryan, whose dark brows were now furrowed in frustration. He sighed and said,

    "Don''t me Kakus fawley, Bryan. It was I who went to him first to help monitor your activities in the underground world. Indeed, this rule of yours makes me understand that you try your best not to harm innocent lives. It is precisely the existence of this rule that has given me more patience. I mean, to respect your choice."

    "Then why are you now trying so hard to bring me back to Hogwarts?"

    The bleak night wind became a little more mild, but Bryan''s mood became increasinglyplicated.

    In order to worry that he would sink into darkness and be unable to extricate himself, such an absurd farce was created to make him return to Hogwarts?

    Bryan did not know whether he should hate or be grateful to Dumbledore for his actions.

    "Perhaps you think you can always adhere to principles, Bryan," At this time, Dumbledore''s eyes regained their wisdom. The purple pupils flickered with the wisdom of more than a hundred years of life,

    "But I believe that if this continues, darkness will eventually erode you, this is beyond doubt. How long has it been since you stood in the world of light and bathed in the sun with everyone else?"

    As the night faded away, a soft glow of pink and gold pierced the dark sky, casting a gentle light on Bryan''s perplexed purple eyes Amidst the undting sounds of the forest, Dumbledore''s sincere voice asked Bryan to stay at Hogwarts to continue teaching, even if he was unwilling, he hoped that he could change his way of life and not continue to waver between light and dark, because if he went on like this, sooner orter there would be a day when he slid into darkness.

    But this long night was over, and it had left unforgettable memories in many hearts. The castle was already buzzing with excitement, as the news of Ginny''s rescue and the end of the Chamber of Secrets spread like wildfire from the hospital wing.

    "Stop Lockhart''s medication, Dumbledore."

    Bryan threw the ss bottle for sealing the Basilisk to Dumbledore, ignoring the bitterness on that aged face, and strode towards the castle.

    "Wait, Bryan¨C"

    Dumbledore was not omniscient. He did not know what kind of person Bryan would be with the choices he had made. But he knew that if he forcibly intervened now, he would only push this young man with tremendous potential into the abyss.

    "This is what you deserve, Bryan"

    Dumbledore held out the money bag again. He suppressed all his anxiety and worry in his heart, smiling gently,

    "To be honest, Bryan, although the sry given to me by the Board of Governors is not low, a wizard like me also has astonishing expenses, so I can''t take out more Galleons to show my gratitude!"

    "What kind of person do you think I am, Dumbledore, with eyes only for money?"

    Bryan nced at the money bag without reaching for it, "You''re not young anymore either, keep this money for your retirement."

    "Just take it as"

    Dumbledore still insisted, "for those children in the orphanage."

    Bryan''s breathing quickened immediately, a tick mark appeared on his forehead. It seemed this old guy had investigated him thoroughly. If he continued to stay at Hogwarts, Bryan was very suspicious that one day Dumbledore would even know the colors of his underwear!

    "We''re even, Headmaster Dumbledore."

    Bryan took the money bag, reached into his chest again, He pulled out a small object and tossed it to Dumbledore without a word. Then he spun around and walked away with brisk steps.

    Dumbledore caught the object in his hand and looked at it with disbelief. It was a diadem, or rather, what was left of it. The metal was twisted and ckened, as if by fire. Dumbledore gasped and felt a cold shock in his heart. He stood by theke, speechless and motionless, while the wind whipped his robes.

    /FicFrenzy

 087 The Hero and the Hypocrite

    087 The Hero and the Hypocrite

    Bryan was jolted awake by a loud knock on the door that pierced through his ears like a drill. He rubbed his sour eyes that felt like they had sand in them and propped up his head to look out the window. He saw a bright sun hanging high in the sky like a giant fireball, casting golden rays of light onto the office floor. The air was filled with floating dust particles that sparkled in the sunlight. It was a scene of peace and tranquility that contrasted sharply with his groggy state. He tidied up his appearance a little bit by smoothing out his wrinkled clothes andbing his fingers through his hair. He muttered discontentedly under his breath and dragged his feet towards the door.

    "Professor Watson, everything is clear, it was Lucius Malfoy, Dobby got his freedom, the diary was put in Ginny''s backpack by Malfoy, Dumbledore has been reappointed as headmaster by the board of governors, Malfoy may be kicked out of the board of governors!"

    The door swung open and revealed a young boy with messy ck hair and round sses. His green eyes were shining with excitement and his voice was breathless from running. He blurted out the news without pausing for a second.

    Looking at the eager and incoherent Harry outside the door, Bryan rubbed his messy hair on top of his head, gasping for breath. He had to sigh at the vigorous energy of these young wizards who seemed to have endless adventures.

    "That''s great news, Potter, is Hagrid back yet¨C"

    Bryan blinked his sleepy eyes and said indifferently.

    Early in the morning, he had received a ''political education'' of love and courage in Dumbledore''s office, and he was so impressed that he felt like he wanted to fight the Basilisk again. He had barely slept a wink after that.

    Harry''s face stiffened, because he sensed that Professor Watson''s tone didn''t match his enthusiasm. "The Ministry of Magic released Hagrid, Professor Watson, they are in the courtyard watching the Basilisk, Dumbledore asked me to tell you that the Minister of Magic wants to talk to you personally."

    Harry said hesitantly.

    Bryan let out a helpless groan, he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead,

    "I see, you go back and report first, Potter, I have to take care of myself first, this look is not very suitable for meeting with such a big shot as the Minister."

    He gestured at his disheveled appearance and shooed Harry away.

    When Harry left, his eyes were still shing with confusion.

    Why didn''t Professor Watson seem very happy, as he had ended the shadow over the heads of the young wizards this year? Shouldn''t he be proud of his heroic deeds?

    It was probably around lunchtime now, but the school hall was empty. No one cared about the delicious food on the table that smelled so tempting. Almost everyone in the school was crowded in the courtyard, even the trees and the top of the corridor were full of curious young wizards who wanted to catch a glimpse of the Basilisk and its yer.

    When Bryan appeared at the door, a sudden burst of apuse and cheers erupted like a volcano. People looked at him with awe and admiration in their eyes, as if they were watching a rising star who had just made history.

    Gulp With the saliva secreted by his mouth, Bryan swallowed down a piece of bread that he stuffed into his mouth from the long table in the hall. He raised his eyebrows high as if he was surprised by the warm wee.

    "Come over here, Bryan!"

    Professor McGonagall in the center of the crowd stood on tiptoe and waved her arms frantically. She shouted loudly at Bryan on the steps. Her eyes were filled with tears of joy and relief. She blew her nose hard with a handkerchief.

    The crowd automatically split into two halves to make way for Bryan. He saw Dumbledore and the school''s professors standing in front of arge cage. The cage contained the Basilisk that had been subdued by Dumbledore himself. It was a huge basilisk with green scales and yellow eyes. It looked terrifying even in its unconscious state.

    As he walked past the crowd, the Weasley twins shouted their gratitude to him,

    "You saved Ginny and Ron, Professor. We are very grateful to you!"

    They said sincerely with their red hair and freckled faces.

    To be honest, Fred and George had never been so serious about talking to anyone.

    Bryan smiled and nodded at them. He strode past the crowd and walked towards Dumbledore with a smile on his face and his hands folded on his stomach.

    "What did you tell everyone?" He asked casually.

    "Just told them the truth, Bryan."

    Dumbledore also answered Bryan''s eye question with his eyes.

    Cornelius Fudge was still wearing that weird outfit fromst night. It was a pinstriped suit with a lime green bowler hat. But his attitude towards Bryan was quite different fromst night. He had been skeptical and hostile then. But now he was all smiles andpliments.

    Thirty feet away from him, heughed and stepped forward to greet Bryan. When he got close, he affectionately hugged Bryan''s arm as if they were old friends.

    "It looks like we have another young genius with extraordinary strength. Don''t we?"

    Fudge winked at Bryan yfully. He tried to act as if they were very close friends. But in fact, this was only their second meeting. The first time they met, they didn''t say a word.

    "This is all thanks to the wise decision of the Ministry of Magic, Minister. After all, the board of governors followed the Ministry''s advice and sent me back to Hogwarts to deal with the Chamber of Secrets incident¨C"

    "Oh, cough cough. Of course. No, I mean. It was your credit, Bryan!"

    Fudge''s chubby face showed a momentary stiffness in his smile, as if he had swallowed a lemon. But then, the light in his eyes flickered more eagerly than ever. He pped Bryan on the shoulder hard, almost making him lose his bnce. His smile was bright like a blooming flower, but it seemed more like a rotten egg to others. "The Ministry only yed a negligible role!"

    "Tsk tsk. Dirty politics¨C"

    In the gradually quieting crowd, George Weasley red at Cornelius Fudge with contempt. He muttered softly under his breath, but Percy in front of him red at him and ordered him to shut up. Then, he looked at Professor Watson and Minister Fudge who were talking with admiration in his eyes. He pricked up his ears and tried to learn the ''art of politics'' from their conversation.

    "Nothing to say, Bryan!"

    Fudge seemed to have been hit by a happiness charm. He keptughing like a hyena. He didn''t notice the disdainful looks from some of the professors and students.

    "The Order of Merlin Second ss is worthy of your merit. You saved the lives of several young wizards. Ended the threat that had been hanging over the heads of the children of Muggle origin for a thousand years. And donated this invaluable Basilisk to the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry will have no objection to this. The procedure can be simplified. I''ll arrange for someone to send the badge tomorrow cough cough."

    Fudge lowered his voice slightly, using a volume that only Bryan could hear.

    "As long as you mention it in the next interview."

    Noticing Bryan''s strange expression, Fudge quickly exined.

    "Don''t worry. I''ll tell them in advance. Oh, I''m so d I blocked that annoying woman Rita Skeeter. She somehow got the news and knew what was going on in the school!"

    ''Donation?''

    Bryan nced at Dumbledore covertly, but he didn''t get any information from Dumbledore''s eyes mixed with a smile. Dumbledore seemed to be amused by Fudge''s antics, but he also looked a bit sad and weary.

    "If you like, I''ll talk to Rufus."

    Fudge''s arm stuck to Bryan''s arm like glue. He didn''t want to take it off no matter what.

    "I think you would be a very good Auror, Bryan. You could be Rufus''s right-hand man. Oh, let me tell you a secret. Rufus is not young anymore. He might not be able to do it for long. If you perform well in the Auror position, maybe I can¨C"

    Many professors heard Fudge''s words and secretly showed contempt in their eyes. But they didn''t say much because of the asion. They knew that Fudge was just trying to use Bryan''s fame and talent for his own benefit.

    "I will seriously consider your suggestion, Minister¨C"

    Bryan said politely, cutting off Fudge''s rambling. He looked at Hagrid who was lying on the cage, trying to squeeze through the gap in the bars. He asked curiously,

    "Why don''t you look very happy, Hagrid, now that you''re free?"

    "You shouldn''t have been so heavy-handed, Professor Watson!"

    Hagrid wiped his tears and turned his head ''pitifully'' red at him. "Look at this poor little guy, he looks like he''s suffered a lot. And,"

    Hagrid looked at Dumbledore and Fudge who was somewhat apologetic. "Can''t I keep this poor little fellow and take care of him? Forgive me for being blunt, Minister, but since Mr. Scamander retired, there aren''t many experts in the Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures."

    Author''s Note: The sentences inside single quotation mark '' '' are thoughts of characters.

    /FicFrenzy

 088 Celebration Banquet

    088 Celebration Banquet

    A grand celebration banquet was in full swing in the Great Hall, where the original four parallel long tables had been rearranged into a square, forming a cozy circle of joy. The house-elves in the kitchen had outdone themselves, and the long tables were overflowing with all kinds of mouth-watering food, from roasted turkey and mashed potatoes to chocte cake and pumpkin pie. The aroma of the dishes filled the air, tempting the taste buds of everyone present.

    The professors did not hold themselves back, they mingled with the young wizards and happily chatted. Professor McGonagall pretended not to see the Weasley twins secretly changing the juice of the young wizards into butterbeer. Snape seemed to beforting a gloomy Draco, who looked like he had swallowed a lemon. And when they were in the mood, Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout even offered a waltz amid theughter of everyone, their feet barely touching the ground.

    "Actually, I noticed that something was wrong with that bathroom early on¨C"

    Lockhart, who had not appeared in front of everyone for two months, showed up here despite Mrs. Pomfrey''s dissuasion. He was pale and could only stand by leaning on the table, but he still tried to make his smile match the dazzling stars on the ceiling. His blond hair wasbed back neatly, and his robes were as bright as ever.

    "But I think breaking into a girl''s bathroom is not a gentleman''s demeanor!"

    "He dares to say that!"

    Hearing Lockhart''s boasting words, Harry''s face turned blue with anger, and Dean next to him made a vomiting expression.

    "Where did Professor Watson go?"

    Hermione, who was a bit sad about Lockhart''s performance, looked around for the young and thin figure.

    "He and Headmaster Dumbledore left halfway." Neville answered this question. He was holding a te full of food, but he didn''t seem to have much appetite.

    Harry and Hermione looked at each other, both feeling a bit bored. After a brief exchange, they took some food and left the Great Hall as well, heading to the hospital wing to look for Ron. They hoped he was feeling better after being bitten by the basilisk.

    On the seventh floor of the castle, Bryan led Dumbledore to push open a smooth door embedded in the wall opposite a tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy trying to teach trolls ballet. The tapestry was old and faded, and the trolls looked more confused than graceful.

    "At that time, I often practiced magic or brewed potions in some secluded ssrooms in the castle. From the second semester of my fifth year, you and Professor Snape kept an eye on me. Once, Professor Snape seemed to smell the potion I carried on me, but he didn''t say it clearly. Out of caution, I wanted to find a safe ce to store my potions. I wandered around here and identally found this amazing room."

    Squeak!

    The door opened with a creaky sound, revealing a room as big as a church, and the surrounding scenery looked like a city. The towering walls were made up of things hidden by thousands of students who had long been out of this world. Most of them were basically garbage¨Cexpired potions in broken bottles, rotten and moldy food in paper bags, copsed shelves and boxes with dustybels, old textbooks with torn pages and scribbled notes, and so on. There were also some odd items, such as a stuffed vulture, a tiara with fake jewels, a broken mirror, and a pair of roller skates.

    Bryan led Dumbledore deeper and deeper into the maze-like pile of garbage until they came to an old cab with bubbles on its surface. The cab looked like it had been exposed to some corrosive substance, and its wood was peeling off. On top of the cab sat a bust of a wizard with freckles on his cheeks. He wore an old hat with gray fluff on it, which had a clear circr indentation on its top.

    "Here it is¨C"

    Bryan raised his chin and said to Dumbledore with a solemn expression. He pointed at the indentation on the hat, where a small object was hidden.

    Dumbledore held in his hand the broken crown that Bryan gave himst night. It was made of metal and had four spikes with rubies on them. One of the spikes was missing, leaving behind a jagged edge. He only nced at the statue and then moved his eyes away, looking at the room he was in.

    "It''s indeed a good ce to hide things. I can probably guess when Tom hid the crown here."

    Dumbledore murmured, his voice low and serious.

    "To be honest, Bryan, you have helped me a lot. For many years, I have been suspicious that Voldemort had split his soul before, and I think he might have done it more than once. But I never had any evidence. And you confirmed two of my long-standing doubts in one day."

    Dumbledore said so, but he didn''t see any relief on his face. Instead, his shoulders were slightly hunched and his brow seemed to be crushed by heavy pressure and drooped halfway down. His eyes were dark and troubled, as if he was seeing something horrible.

    Bryan understood why Dumbledore looked like this. This was indeed a very frustating problem. To destroy Voldemort, one must first destroy his Horcruxes. But who knows how many times this madman Voldemort split his soul? And where did he hide the other pieces?

    ording to theory, there is no limit to the number of times one can split one''s soul. As long as your broken soul is enough to support your body''s activities, then splitting dozens or hundreds of times is not a problem. But in reality, human souls are not that strong. Just like a piece of paper, theoretically it can be folded infinitely many times. But in fact, after only a few times it bes impossible to operate.

    "So¨C" Bryan ignored Dumbledore''s frowning and thinking, and walked straight to the exit. His voice was cold and sarcastic.

    "If you really think I provided some insignificant help, Headmaster Dumbledore, please don''t stare at me all the time. That would make me very unhappy!"

    * Scene Break *

    Although his arm muscles had been ripped by the basilisk''s venomous fangs, thanks to Fawkes'' tears and Mrs. Pomfrey''s professional treatment, Ron''s arm wrapped in bandages like a mummy could move. He leaned on the pillow and listened to Harry recounting Lockhart''s boasting words, and his nose was crooked with anger!

    "Just ignore him, Harry!"

    Ron gasped and said, "If it weren''t for you, Harry, even if Hogwarts went bankrupt, he wouldn''t be able to find the door to the Chamber of Secrets. By the way, didn''t Myrtle get the punishment she deserved?!"

    "The Ministry of Magic can''t put a ghost in Azkaban, Ron." Hermione, who finally got some spirit, said rationally. "Professor Watson also thinks that judging a ghost is a very ridiculous and cruel thing."

    I don''t see what''s so cruel about it!"

    Ron twisted his nose and looked at Ginny outside the bed who drank arge ss of chocte milk with sleeping pills and was in deep sleep. She looked peaceful and innocent, but Ron knew that she had gone through a terrible ordeal. This morning, his parents'' worried and sobbing appearance beside Ginny''s bed still echoed in Ron''s head. He felt a surge of anger towards Myrtle, who had witnessed Ginny''s suffering but did nothing to help her.

    "Speaking of Professor Watson," Ron looked at Harry.

    "He has decided to leave, hasn''t he?" His voice was full of sadness and disappointment.

    Speaking of this, Hermione''s mood fell again, and even Harry sighed and looked gloomy. They both liked Professor Watson very much, and they felt that he was one of the few teachers who understood them and cared for them.

    "Anyway, that''s what Headmaster Dumbledore told me. He said to me that Professor Watson hadpleted his duty and he would leave the school soon¨C"

    Harry said with a heavy heart. He wondered why Professor Watson had to leave so soon.

    "This is really bad,"

    Ron seemed to want to hug his arms, but he forgot about his right arm injury. As a result, he identally pulled the wound and was so painful that he grinned. He clenched his teeth and tried to ignore the pain.

    "Hiss- Mom also asked me to invite Professor Watson to our house as a guest during the summer vacation. Dad also said that he almost saved our family. Come to think of it, it''s true. He saved Bill and Charlie when they were in school. Now he has saved me and Ginny from You-Know-Who and the basilisk. It''s really headache. This is not an easy favor to repay."

    Ron said with admiration and gratitude for Professor Watson.

    "I didn''t save you for gratitude, Mr. Weasley."

    Bryan walked in with a smile on his face and said to the three young wizards who were surprised by his appearance. He looked calm and rxed, as if he had just returned from a pleasant walk.

    "How do you feel, Mr. Weasley?" He asked Ron with concern.

    "Oh, much better, Professor Watson!"

    Ron said shyly with red ears. He also tried to gesture with his arm, but he was still weak and clumsy. Seeing that Ron was in good spirits, Bryan nodded with satisfaction. He sat on the bed next to them and smiled at them warmly.

    "Actually, I have some gifts for you¨C" He said mysteriously.

    /FicFrenzy

 089 Gifts

    089 Gifts

    "A gift?"

    Harry, Ron and Hermione eximed in unison, their eyes wide with curiosity and disbelief. They nced at each other, wondering why Professor Watson suddenly wanted to give them a gift on hisst day at Hogwarts.

    "On the one hand, it is my reward for your brave confrontation with the basilisk and memory of Voldemort as the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, on the other hand, it is to express my gratitude¨C"

    Harry noticed keenly that sincest night, when they had returned from the Chamber of Secrets with Ginny Weasley''s limp body, Professor Watson began to call Voldemort by his name, instead of using terms like ''Dark Lord'' or ''You-Know-Who''. To be honest, apart from them three, or Dumbledore, Harry only heard the name once from Hagrid''s mouth, when he had told him about his parents'' death. The rest of the wizards would scream in horror or shudder in fear when they heard the three words ''Voldemort''.

    But for some reason, Harry didn''t seem surprised, as if he knew that Professor Watson was not afraid of Voldemort.

    ''Think about it, this is a wizard who had the incredible ''ambition'' to defeat Dumbledore when he was in fifth grade'' - Harry told himself.

    "¨Cif it weren''t for you three who took the lead and opened the Chamber of Secrets, I might have to spend a lot of effort to find it, in that case, Ginny might have been unfortunate. Dumbledore has decided to announce your efforts to everyone at the end-of-term feast and award you a special contribution award."

    Bryan found that Harry, Ron and Hermione did not show much surprise or excitement, apparently, Dumbledore had already told them everything when he had visited them in the hospital wing.

    "Then." Bryan reached into his pocket and pulled out a broken wand. It was snapped in half, charred at one end, and covered with dirt and blood.

    "This is my wand!" Ron immediately eximed, recognizing it as his own. He had lost it during their escape from the chamber, when a rock fell on his head and knocked him unconscious. He had woken upter to find Harry holding him and Hermione crying over him.

    "Yes, Mr. Weasley, I found it in a pile of rubble, apparently you lost it. Unfortunately, this wand is very badly damaged, even I can''t repair it."

    Looking at Ron who took over the wand and was both distressed and embarrassed, Bryan smiled slightly. He knew that Ron''s wand was second-hand, inherited from his older brother Charlie. It was not verypatible with him, and often malfunctioned or backfired.

    He took out a money bag and pulled out twenty pieces of golden Galleons in front of the surprised eyes of the three little guys. Ron''s eyes widened and he almost stopped breathing. He probably guessed that this money was for himself, but he didn''t dare to believe it. To be honest, let alone owning it, he had seen twenty pieces of gold Galleons only a few times in his life! They were more than enough to buy a new wand - they were enough to buy a whole set of new robes, books, and supplies!

    "This money should be enough for you to buy a new wand, Mr. Weasley. Don''t refuse. This is a reward for your courage."

    Ron shivered and took over a handful of gold coins. He felt their weight and warmth in his palm, as if they were alive. He looked at Professor Watson with gratitude and admiration in his eyes. He wanted to say something to thank him, but he found that Professor Watson handed him another coin that was slightlyrger than a Galleon. On the coin face was carved a delicate statue of Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time. He was wearing a long robe and a pointed hat, and holding a staff in his hand. Around the edge of the coin were engraved some words in Latin: ''Magia est ars vitae'' - Magic is the art of life.

    "This is amemorative coin issued by the International Confederation of Wizards to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Wizarding Secrecy Act, Mr. Weasley. I identally found it and bought it. It has some value. Your father Arthur Weasley drafted a Muggle Protection Act to protect Muggle rights and personal safety. I think it will have some different meaning for you."

    Bryan smiled and looked at Ron who was holding the silver coin with love. He said, "But I hope you keep it and don''t sell it for money!"

    "I swear to you, Professor Watson!" Ron finally came back to his senses and took over the warmmemorative coin. He clutched it to his chest, as if it were a precious treasure. His excited voice was trembling,

    "I will take this silver coin into my grave!"

    Looking at Ron who loved the silver coin so much, Bryan''s eyes shed with deepughter. Then he turned his gaze to Hermione.

    Hermione was probably the saddest one about his departure. She had learned a lot from him during the year, not only about magic, but also about life. Professor Watson''s few words about ''life and loneliness'' gave her some insights that she had never thought of before. Although she was limited by her age and could not empathize with him for now.

    She also admired Professor Watson''s achievements in spell innovation, which had opened her eyes to a new realm of magic. Before that, Hermione''s purpose of learning was to master more knowledge and get good grades. But she rarely thought about creating new knowledge herself or applying it in novel ways.

    Bryan''s gift to Hermione was not surprising. It was an old magic book with a worn cover. It looked like it had been through many years of use and abuse, and its pages were yellowed and stained. But Hermione didn''t care about its appearance.

    She took over the book eagerly, her green fingers brushing over the gold lettering on the cover: "Ancient Spell Simplification Theory". She felt a surge of curiosity and excitement as she read the title. She heard Professor Watson''s exnation in her ear.

    "This book may be a bit esoteric for you now, Miss Granger. But you can try to study it first. It will give you a deep understanding of the history of spell model simplification and evolution. If you want to achieve something in spell innovation in the future, I think it will help you a lot."

    Hermione opened the cover and found a line of blue ink written by Professor Watson on the first page. It was a brief introduction to the author of the book, Uric Gamp, who was a famous wizard in the 17th century. He was known for his groundbreaking research on simplifyingplex spells into simpler ones, and for creating many new spells based on his theory. The handwriting looked very new, as if it had just been written recently.

    "Professor Watson¨C" Hermione didn''t bother to figure out the meaning of this inexplicable date written by Professor Watson. She looked up at Professor Watson, her lips slightly pursed, and her expression looked sad.

    "Are you really not considering staying and continuing to teach? I mean, many people think you are better than Professor Lockhart in teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

    She blurted out her question, hoping that he would change his mind. She knew that it was selfish of her, but she couldn''t help it.

    "Just better?" Ron rolled his eyes and muttered softly, "That guy is an idiot. He''s only good at ttering and talking nonsense!"

    Many young wizards already knew that Bryan was about to leave Hogwarts. They all expressed their reluctance to his departure. Some of them even asked him for autographs or photos as souvenirs. To be honest, facing these simple-minded young wizards, Bryan''s heart was not calm.

    Butpared to staying at Hogwarts and teaching under Dumbledore''s watchful eye, Bryan undoubtedly preferred to adventure in the vast world. His strength had already passed the point where he could improve by studying hard. Only by expanding his knowledge and experience and fighting with more wizards could he go further! Besides, the poor sry of teaching for a year really couldn''t meet his needs. Of course, maybe one day, he would return to thisnd of memories for countless people, but that might be many yearster.

    Harry, who was already a little impatient, finally waited for Professor Watson to look at him. He looked eager and wondered what he would get.

    ''Maybe it will be a Nimbus 2001?''

    He guessed excitedly, but then he thought that he already had a very good flying broomstick, the Nimbus 2000 that he had received from Professor McGonagall in his first year. It was fast and smooth, and he loved flying with it. There was no need to change another one. And while he was thinking wildly, the words that Professor Watson said surprised Harry, Ron and Hermione.

    "About you, Potter¨C"

    Bryan knew that what he said would disappoint Harry, but he still went on,

    "I don''t have anything to give you for now."

    Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, who had obvious disappointment in his eyes. Why had Professor Watson singled him out? Harry had been the first to deduce the location of the hidden chamber, based on the clues from the basilisk''s voice and Riddle''s diary. He had also faced Voldemort and bought time for the professor to arrive. If anyone deserved thanks, it was Harry!

    "Or rather, I do have something to give you, Potter, but it will take some days."

    Harry blinked and didn''t understand what Professor Watson meant. But suddenly, he eximed happily,

    "Professor, do you mean that you wille back to Hogwarts, right?!"

    Hermione and Ron also woke up. They held their breaths and looked at Professor Watson expectantly, hoping to get a positive answer!

    "I guess so."

    Bryan got up with a wry smile. He turned and walked towards the door. He raised his arm over his head and waved, "I''ll probably stay for a few more days. I won''t say goodbye to you separately then. Three of you, have a nice life!"

    /FicFrenzy

 090 Lesson

    090 Lesson

    The next morning, Fudge kept his word and sent a courier with a shiny medal for Bryan. He also organized a modest ceremony in the Great Hall, where Dumbledore and half of the Hogwarts professors gathered to honor him. The medal was a circr golden disc with a star-shaped cutout in the center, where a blue gem glittered in the light. It had the words "Order of Merlin" engraved on the rim and a ribbon of purple and green stripes attached to it.

    The ''Order Of Merlin'' Medal was a prestigious award in the European magical world. It was given to those who had performed outstanding deeds or services for the wizardingmunity. In the British Ministry of Magic, holders of second-ss or higher medals automatically became honorary members of the Wizengamot, the highest judicial body in the country. They also had the right to vote in trials and influence important decisions. This was a remarkable privilege, which meant that Bryan couldmand respect from even the most powerful officials in the Ministry. Although Bryan had many ways to impress or intimidate those bureaucrats, having a respectable identity on the surface was always useful.

    Obviously, Bryan underestimated people''s curiosity about the Basilisk that had the name of an ancient creature and was rted to the great founder of Hogwarts. The Basilisk was a huge snake, a rare and dangerous beast that could kill with its gaze and petrify with its venom. It had been hidden in the Chamber of Secrets for centuries, until Bryan defeated it with the ''help'' of Harry and Fawkes, Dumbledore''s phoenix.

    ording to Dumbledore, Fudge received nearly two hundred letters in just one day, all asking the Ministry of Magic to publicly exhibit the Basilisk. The department had an emergency meeting and decided to hold a public exhibition at Hogsmeade next month. The Daily Prophet sent a group of reporters to do an urgent interview. Many magical creature experts, including the author of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them", the famous Newt Scamander, clearly stated that they would attend the exhibition meeting.

    Fudge invited Bryan through Dumbledore. He hoped that Bryan would attend the exhibition as a special guest and praise the ''huge'' and ''unignorable'' role yed by the Ministry of Magic in this event in front of everyone. But Bryan refused him with an unhappy look. He had no interest in being part of Fudge''s publicity stunt.

    "I think this is a rare opportunity, Bryan!"

    Lockhart, who hadn''t appeared in public for a while, almost knocked Professor Flitwick out with his enthusiastic gesture. Thanks to Mrs. Pomfrey''s careful care, his teeth were still shining like pearls.

    "I can go with you to the exhibition, Bryan. I can teach you some valuable experience in maintaining perfect manners and creating hot topics in public!" He winked at him conspiratorially.

    I think you need to urgently learn how to get along well with Dementors, Professor Lockhart - Bryan thought to himself and avoided his entanglement.

    Even though Bryan was not a student of Gryffindor House, he belonged to Hogwarts after all. Professor McGonagall was wearing her usual tartan dress and square spectacles, but her stern expression softened as she saw him. Tears welled up in her eyes as she watched him stride towards her with a confident smile. She had always admired his courage and talent, even though he sometimes broke the rules; he reminded her of herself when she was young.

    "Ahem, Professor McGonagall -" Bryan smiled shyly, "When do you think it is convenient for me to say-, the sry" He joked lightly, hoping to ease her mood.

    So, Professor McGonagall''s eyes became redder. She couldn''t help butugh and hug him warmly.

    Snape stood silently on one side. He looked at Bryan who wasughing and talking with everyone. Unconsciously, his gloomy mouth showed a slight arc. He was wearing his usual ck robes that made him look like a bat.

    "You can all have a brighter life, Severus -"

    Dumbledore came over and said softly, "We can''t change those tragic things that happened in the past, but the future is always a choice, Severus, if you are willing"

    Dumbledore hadn''t finished speaking yet, Snape had already walked away first. He did not want to hear Dumbledore''s words of wisdom or pity. He had his own reasons for doing what he did, and he did not need anyone''s approval or forgiveness.

    Lockhart had been lying in bed for almost two months and needed a few more days to fully recover his energy. Therefore, Bryan was still responsible for thest week''s Defense Against the Dark Arts course. He decided to give his students a memorable lesson.

    In the senior Defense Against the Dark Arts practice ss, when Bryan brought a bare-chested middle-aged man with a gloomy and terrifying expression to the Quidditch field, most people showed inexplicable expressions. They wondered what this man had to do with their subject. Of course, there were also a few Hufflepuff senior girls who gave him a silly smile at the strong chest muscles of the middle-aged man. They thought he was handsome in a rugged way.

    And what happened next can basically be described as appalling.

    The transformation was swift and shocking. The middle-aged man, who had been sitting quietly on a chair, suddenly sprouted fur, ws, and fangs. His body grewrger and more muscr, his clothes ripped apart, and his eyes turned yellow and bloodthirsty. He let out a terrifying wolf head, baring his ferocious teeth, and making a murderous and violent roar that echoed across the Quidditch field.

    The senior students, who had been expecting a normal Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, were caught off guard by the sight of the werewolf. Nearly half of them were so scared that they copsed on thewn, paralyzed with fear. Some who could move also used their limbs and fled desperately in all directions, dropping their books and wands in their haste.

    "Hey,e back, guys. I''ve already told you how to deal with this thing in ss. Well, maybe you can go together. As long as you can knock him down, I will tell Professor Lockhart that you can get an ''O'' directly for the final exam of Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Bryan shouted with a tick mark on his forehead. He looked at the scattered little wizards with frustration and amusement. He had nned this as a surprise test for them, but he didn''t expect them to panic so easily.

    Bryan''s encouragement still had some effect. A few little wizards raised their wands tremblingly and tried to stop the werewolf from approaching. Percy Weasley, who was always eager to impress, even used a beautiful shattering curse to remove a small tuft of ck hair from the werewolf''s chest. The werewolf snorted in pain and anger, but did not slow down.

    There was also Gryffindor''s Oliver Wood, who was more used to handling a Quaffle than a wand. He cast a stunning spell, but for some reason, the willow-thick red light didn''t hit the werewolf, but hit Marcus Flint who was fleeing in another direction. Flint fell to the ground with a thud, unconscious. Wood grinned sheepishly, wondering if this counted as ''revenge'' for all the times Flint had fouled him during Quidditch matches.

    "I told you," Bryan sighed helplessly, "the werewolf''s fur has a magical resistance that is outstanding even among magical creatures. The spells cast by young wizards are unable to knock down the werewolves. The werewolves are hard to keep their sober reason when they transform. In the fight against the werewolves, making traps and transfiguration are the most useful."

    Penelope Clearwater whimpered in fear as she hid behind her boyfriend Percy, holding his arm as if it was a lifeline. She looked at the monstrous creature that was getting closer and closer, and felt a surge of panic. "We are not you, Professor Watson," she said in a trembling voice. "We can only handle boggarts, not real werewolves." She wished she could disappear from this nightmare.

    Bryan scowled and wrinkled his nose as if he smelled something unpleasant. "Oh, that kind of thing that scares children!" he said with a tone of disdain. "You should have higher pursuits, Miss Clearwater!"

    Percy felt a surge of protectiveness for his girlfriend, who was trembling behind him. He held her hand and tried to sound brave. "But- we are just young wizards, professor-" he protested weakly.

    In the end, none of the senior students could cause any substantial damage to the werewolf that Bryan turned out of the chair. To be honest, this made him feel a bit disappointed. If they couldn''t face those really dangerous things in the school, in a heavily protected environment, what would they do when they stepped into the magical world without any preparation?

    Looking back at his two-month teaching career, Bryan actually found a lot of talented little wizards.

    Potter didn''t need to say anything. His agile response and keen intuition for danger were outstanding. Hermione''s thirst for knowledge andpetitiveness could also make her achieve remarkable results in the future.

    The twin brothers of the Weasley family hadmendable innovation abilities. They were always inventing new products and pranks that amazed and amused everyone. Their little sister Ginny had excellent response to changes. Neville burst out of potential under pressure and caught people''s attention. He was always loyal and brave despite his self-doubt and clumsiness. There were also many little wizards, such as Cedric of Hufflepuff, Luna Lovegood of Ravenw, ise Zabini and Theodore Nott of Slytherin, including Draco Malfoy, these little wizards had good talents.

    Cedric was noble and fair-minded; Luna was creative and quirky; ise was cunning and ambitious; Theodore was clever and independent; Draco was confident and charismatic

    Unfortunately, almost every one of them had a huge w.

    In Bryan''s eyes, if nothing unexpected happens, they can be excellent wizards, but if they say that their future strength is as good as himself or Professor Snape, there may not be one. They allcked something that was essential for bing a powerful wizard: discipline, courage, humility,passion, wisdom, or integrity.

    But then again, everyone had different expectations for the future. Just like the twin brothers of the Weasley family, they obviously hoped to make some achievements in those prank products. Not everyone was like Bryan. He knew that he wanted to be a powerful wizard on the first day he knew the existence of the magical world!

    "Know in your heart what kind of wizard you expect to be in the future and keep moving forward and work hard in that direction," he said to them on hisst day of teaching.

    On Friday night, Bryan looked at his empty office and smiled softly. He had packed his belongings and memories in his suitcase. He closed the office door behind him and walked away, leaving behind a trail of sparks and smoke.

    /FicFrenzy

 091 Leaving

    091 Leaving

    "I remember the night I returned to Hogwarts, and you were here to greet me, Professor¨C"

    When I came, the snow covered the sky like a thick nket, and when I left, I was covered with stars like a fairy tale hero. Bryan stopped and looked at Snape under the majestic wild boar sculpture that had stood for a thousand years next to the big iron gate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, with a warm smile on his face.

    "Otherwise,"

    Snape straightened up and sneered sarcastically, "Who do you expect to hold a grand farewell dinner for you, Bryan?"

    Bryan smiled gently and didn''t say anything. Under the brilliant starry river, the two people faced the refreshing breeze and looked at the ancient castle standing proudly on the high ground, the edge of the Forbidden Forest that hid many secrets, Hagrid''s hut with bright lights that invited them in, and the vast yground that witnessed their joys and sorrows. The breeze passed through the tall poles and made a cheerful whisper as if to congratte them. Bryan looked trance, for a moment, he seemed to really see the ''eternal'' existence that transcended time and space.

    "Have you been working for Professor Dumbledore all the time?"

    Bryan hoped that Snape would break the silence, but he knew it was unlikely. Snape was always reserved and secretive, especially after Voldemort¡¯s fall. He had been the potions teacher at Hogwarts for years, Theoretically speaking, he has always been working for Dumbledore.

    But Snape obviously knew that Bryan''s question was not asking this, and he gave an affirmative answer with a slight nasal sound that betrayed his emotions.

    Bryan showed a bitter smile at the corner of his mouth, shook his head sadly, and looked at the office on the eighth floor of the castle that was still flickering with candlelight as if waiting for someone.

    "For what?"

    Snape''s eyes were no longer ck holes, but showed obvious hesitation. His eyes swept over every nt and tree in front of this great school with a nostalgic gaze. He had been lurking in the depths of his thoughts for a long time. The memories that were pale and lost their color suddenly surged up like a volcanic eruption that shook his soul.

    Pain, helplessness, loss, hatred. Snape couldn''t describe his mood at this moment. He had an impulse. He wanted to tell all his secrets to this young man who witnessed his growth by his side. But those words reached his mouth, but there was no sigh left as if they were stuck in his throat.

    "For atonement."

    After a long time, Snape said faintly with a hoarse voice. Apart from Dumbledore, this was still Snape''s first time to put down his magic and spiritual disguise and return his most true side to himself.

    Bryan stared at the stars like sand in the Universe that sparkled with life. He heard Snape''s answer in his ears. He was not surprised. Human emotions may be the mostplicated thing in this world. You expect cold magic to perfectly hide your heart. It''s ridiculous as if you were trying to cover the sun with your hand.

    "I have some experience, it''s about life"

    Bryan blurted out something that made Snape instinctively want to sneer. He wanted to remind Bryan of the age difference between them, but when he touched those purple pupils filled with faint light, Snape suddenly froze. He didn''t know why a young man in his twenties would suddenly have more vicissitudes in his eyes than him?

    "I have experienced the rotation of the world"

    Bryan whispered words that made Snape even more puzzled. He stared at him nkly, not knowing how to understand this sentence. Perhaps Bryan meant to enter the mysterious magic world from the muggle world?

    Bryan closed his eyes tiredly, and opened them again after a while. The restless soul returned to calm as if he had found peace.

    "I have seen the most terrible and selfish darkness of human nature, and I have also bathed in the brilliance of pure souls. Severus, life is only once for anyone¨C"

    Snape heard Bryan call his name directly for the first time, but strangely enough, he didn''t feel any anger in his heart, not even a little bit of disharmony, but felt it should be taken for granted as if they had known each other for a long time. This strange feeling made Snape even ignore what Bryan was saying.

    "Those painful pasts should not be ropes that bind us from moving forward. Those who have protected us with their lives will not want to see us bear pain and immerse ourselves in memories that cannot be extricated. Severus,pared to atonement, don''t you think it''s better to live up to those who sacrificed?"

    Bryan''s voice was soft and sincere, as if he was trying to soothe a wounded animal.

    "You don''t know what I''ve been through, Bryan"

    Snape''s body was so miserable that it was unbearable to look at, and his voice was hoarse as if he was howling desperately in the desert.

    "There are many people in this world who have experienced losing everything, Severus, the dead are gone, and what is lost will nevere back. Don''t let yourself live in self-me and hatred¨C"

    Bryan looked at the office on the eighth floor of the castle again, and smiled sadly.

    "Do you think that a wizard like Dumbledore, how many heartbreaking losses he has experienced in his life, huh?"

    He asked Snape, hoping to make him see reason.

    "I''m not him, Bryan¨C"

    Snape''s panting voice was more like sobbing, he lowered his head, his tone seemed to be arguing for himself, but also like persuading himself,

    "Dumbledore is great, powerful, admired by everyone. But I¡¯m just an ordinary man."

    Sometimes, Bryan felt very frustrated about Dumbledore''s existence. On the one hand, he recognized Dumbledore''s indelible achievements for the peace and stability of the entire European magical world in his life. On the other hand, he also felt that Dumbledore was like a mountain. It pressed on the hearts of every wizard in the contemporary magical world, making them not dare to have the idea of surpassing him. To some extent, Dumbledore''s existence itself seems to limit the development of the magical world.

    Just like Severus in front of him, he often expressed his disgust in front of Dumbledore without concealment in private, and behaved rebelliously. But when it came to facing his heart, he almost instinctively thought that Dumbledore was beyond the reach of mortals, Whether it is magical strength or life wisdom.

    Bryan would not naively think that he could persuade Severus to let go of his twenty-year obsession. He just hoped. In this man who should be loved and embraced by the world, he nted a seed. At the right time, this seed will take root and sprout, and bear fragrant and pleasant fruits.

    "Well, let''s do this first, Professor Snape¨C"

    The twilight lingering around Bryan disappeared. Now he is the young and outstanding wizard with both ''strength and youth'' and infinite longing for the future.

    Snape felt the conversation was drawing to a close. He struggled to regain hisposure, bit by bit. He wanted to say something, to bid farewell, but he was at a loss for words. He was much better at brewing potions than expressing emotions. Before he could find the right thing to say, he saw Bryan open his suitcase and pull out a thick stack of parchment. He handed it to Snape, who took it with curiosity.

    "Gilderoy Lockhart''s little ck material, I identally found it¨C"

    He said casually, as if it was nothing important. Looking at Snape who was checking the information and raising his eyebrows higher and higher, Bryan''s tone became cheerful. He smiled at the corner of his mouth,

    "I hope you can wait until the young wizards finish their final exams before reporting to Dumbledore. Or, it doesn''t matter if you give it directly to the Ministry of Magic."

    ng !

    Hogwart''s big iron gate closed heavily with a dull metal collision sound, echoing in the silent night.

    The breeze singste, when Ie alone, I leave alone.

    "Goodbye, Professor Snape, I wish you a happy life¨C"

    Bryan waved his hand from a distance, turned and left, and walked into the boundless darkness without nostalgia.

    /FicFrenzy

 092 Daily Life (Part-1)

    092 Daily Life (Part-1)

    It was a pitch-ck night, with only a bright round moon hanging on the branches like a silverntern. The furious waves, driven by the strong wind, mmed against the reef with a thousand pounds of force, creating huge sshes of water. The thunderous roar could shake one''s soul, but it still could not overpower the murderous aura in the air of a huge palm forest not far from the coast.

    Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

    Several red lights, apanied by shrill screams, tore through the silence of the night, and made the deep night roll up like a curtain. The shes of light illuminated the faces of fear and anger on both sides of the battle.

    "Damn it, it''s the Aurors, we''ve been ambushed!"

    In the forest, seven or eight wizards in ck robes were immediately thrown into panic. They looked around frantically, trying to find a way out. At the front of the crowd, a tall wizard with a scarred face shouted.

    One after another, more than twenty Aurors from the British Ministry of Magic came out from behind the sparse palm trees. They wore dark blue robes with their badges shining on their chests. Themander of the operation was Drexel, a veteran Auror with a calm and confident expression. He looked at the panicked dark wizards with a cheerful smile.

    "If you are willing to surrender, scums, the Wizengamot might show you some mercy. Before you are locked up in Azkaban, they will give you enough time to say goodbye to your loved ones!"

    Ssh!

    The area had been sealed by an Anti-Disapparition Spell, so there was no hope of escaping by Apparition. In the midst of the chaos, a wizard suddenly turned into a ghostly shadow and shot straight into the sky, disappearing into the unfathomable dark night.

    His departure made the trapped dark wizards curse angrily, and also made Drexel and his fellow Aurors gloomy.

    "Kingsley, Robards, you take a team to the left. Savage, Tonks, you go to the right. Let''s send these despicable smugglers to prison!"

    The dangerous battle started immediately. The intense explosions turned this palm forest that had been cleared of Muggles into a sea of fire. The ground was shaking, the night was swaying, and in the scorching air, there were asional whistles of curses tearing through space and wails of pain from wizards.

    The well-trained Aurors cooperated tacitly, gradually devouring the living space of the dark wizards. But these brutal dark wizards were not some who would willingly wait for death. They fought separately, but they did not hesitate to use some magic that could easily take one''s life. The situation was stalemate for a while. In a short time, no one could do anything about each other.

    Floating one mile above the ground, Bryan stared coldly at the battlefield below, wondering what he was plotting.

    Two months ago, Gringotts'' treasure hunting team unearthed arge number of ancient artifacts and alchemical items from the Eleventh Dynasty in a pyramid buried deep in the desert.

    The pure-blood families in the British magical world who were superficially morous but rotten behind their backs moved upon hearing the news. They issued amission to intercept the artifacts through Kakus Fawley, a notorious dark wizard who had connections with many smugglers and mercenaries.

    Because they had to cross many countries along the way, and the number and scale of artifacts wererge, eventually, a rge'' ''transportation team'' was born.

    Bryan and his party entered the Mediterranean from Sidi Barrani, a coastal city in Egypt. When they rested in Heraklion, thergest city on Crete Ind, they had a fierce fight with the Egyptian Ministry of Magic''s Aurors who followed them. Then they crossed the Mediterranean and entered the Aegean Sea from the Tunisian Strait.

    In order to avoid disturbing the magical departments of those countries along the way, Bryan and his party traveled along the coast all the way. Originally, their n was not to enter any country. They would enter the Antic Ocean from the Strait of Gibraltar and cross the Bay of Biscay directly to London.

    But this long journey made most people mentally exhausted. Some people even burned several flying brooms due to overuse. When they arrived at Montpellier in the Gulf of Lion, most people in the team changed their minds. They hoped to cross France and cross the English Channel back to London. In this way, the journey was almost halved.

    The journey within France was uneventful. Even Bryan mistakenly thought that the European side of the magical department had not received the notification from the Egyptian magical department. But unexpectedly, as soon as they entered the British territory, they were blocked by their own people. It seemed that the French magical department should have learned some information early on. They knew that the final target of this group of powerful ''bandits'' was not France, so they were happy to be idle.

    Boom!

    The violent roar drowned out all the noise on the battlefield. The tall wizard named Thanatos Hood raised his wand high, and powerful and ominous magic lurked in the clear crystal ball at the top of his wand.

    "You bunch of scums who have sold your soul, are you ready to ept the punishment of death!"

    As soon as Thanatos''s words fell, the sand under everyone''s feet suddenly fell into violent tremors. Under the shocked eyes of everyone, the sand cracked open arge crack, and the ck crack spewed out a foul wind, as if it led directly to hell.

    Crack!

    Immediately afterwards, a bone-white hand stretched out from the unfathomable darkness, and directly sped the edge of the crack.

    "What the hell is this monster"

    Tonks, who had only been an Auror for two years and was not very experienced, was scared and her hair changed color like a neon light, murmuring to herself.

    "It looks like¨C"

    The Aurors spontaneously gathered together from the chaotic battlefield, and stared at the huge skeleton that had two ck mes burning in its eye sockets, and was twenty feet tall, and looked very scary.

    Kingsley gasped and said, "It should be the skeleton of a fire dragon. I''m not an expert in this field. I can''t tell what kind of fire dragon it is. Hiss, they are really a group of extremely evil guys!"

    "Just for this magic¨C"

    Drexel, who came to his senses from the surprise, red at Thanatos, his eyes burning with anger. "You will have to stay in Azkaban for ten more years!"

    An even more intense battle broke out. Of course, this time, the underworld guys had the upper hand. They hid behind the huge bone dragon and shot out curses from the gaps in the bones. The Aurors were forced by the bone dragon that kept roaring fiercely onto a high slope. It seemed that they were doomed.

    Whoosh!

    But at this moment, a tea-brown-haired wizard with a few gray hairs in his eyebrows and a sharp look like a hunting lion suddenly appeared in a ce very close to the battlefield after removing his invisibility. His wand tip spit out brilliant firelight, and the huge fire dragon was sted into pieces of broken bones by the rapidly expanding air, and fell from the sky.

    Thanatos spurted out a mouthful of blood, his face wilted and fell to the ground, his trembling fingertips and incredulous eyes pointed at the wizard who suddenly appeared, his lips quivered as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn''t say a word.

    "I told you,"

    Rufus Scrimgeour turned his head and looked at his somewhat embarrassed subordinates on the high slope, and said in a stern voice, "Don''t be scared by these scum''s false strength, you have to see through the enemy''s reality!"

    The head of the Ministry of Magic''s Auror Office, Rufus Scrimgeour, who was famous in the magical world for his courage and wisdom, appeared on the battlefield. His appearance broke the fragile bnce on the battlefield. The Aurors knocked out one dark wizard after another with their renewed confidence and determination. In the end, only Thanatos was still dodging in the stormy curses, but his fate seemed to be doomed.

    "Golden Viper!"

    Thanatos, who was blown out by Scrimgeour''s curse, rolled on the scorched sand for several times before barely stopping. His robe was torn and tattered, blood oozed from his nostrils, and seeing Scrimgeour waving his wand again, he had no way out. He suddenly raised his head and looked at the night sky above his head, and shouted angrily, "I know you are still here, Viper. As long as you are willing to save me, I will give you half of my reward!"

    Author''s Note: I have Rewritten the 2nd chapter too, The core story remains the same only the grammar errors and crude paragraphs have been refined.

    /FicFrenzy

 093 Daily Life (Part-2)

    093 Daily Life (Part-2)

    "Golden Viper!"

    Bryan''s junior, Nymphadora Tonks, suddenly changed her face. Her spirited eyebrows trembled incessantly, and she stared at the night sky where there was nothing but a bright moon. She gasped urgently,

    "Is he the dark wizard who killed a bunch of werewolves in the underground world, and even almost killed Greyback?"

    Floating in mid-air, Golden Viper almost twisted his nose with anger. His silver mask glinted in the moonlight, hiding his true identity. If it weren''t for the contract he signed when he epted themission, which stipted that all the members of their temporary team were not allowed to attack each other, he might have given Thanatos a hard blow.

    ''This idiot, is he afraid that I won''t be noticed by the Ministry of Magic?''

    "Shut up, idiot!"

    A shadow shed by, and Golden Viper descended from the air like a hunting falcon. He shouted at Thanatos who was still screaming for help, and then his cold eyes swept over the Aurors opposite him. He only stayed on Tonks''s face for a very short moment, and a smile that no one noticed shed across his face behind the twisted magic vortex.

    Bryan was two grades higher than Tonks. This cheerful girl was very popr among boys when she was in school, because she was a natural Metamorphmagus who could easily change her appearance. This kind of fun¡­ ahem, this kind of talent was very rare and interesting!

    In fact, she especially liked to imitate the faces of professors when she was in school. Because of this, she was locked up by several professors including Snape. Bryan had ''coexisted'' with her for a period of time in the second semester of the fifth grade. The two were not friends, but they were acquaintances.

    However, since Bryan graduated from school, he has never had any contact with any of the Hogwarts students.

    Including Scrimgeour, those who were swept by Golden Viper''s eyes felt like they were poured a bucket of cold water on their heads. The chill went from outside to inside, reaching their souls. Most of the Aurors present were experienced veterans who had gone through countless life-and-death situations. They had a much better intuition for danger than ordinary wizards. They could feel that the mysterious wizard in front of them was stronger than all those scum they had just defeatedbined!

    "I can''t breathe."

    Tonks looked shocked, her forehead sweaty, she secretly patted her chest and whispered, "Quickly go to Hogwarts and ask Albus Dumbledore!"

    "Shut up, Tonks!"

    ''Strong-willed'' Scrimgeour red at Tonks fiercely. He responded to Bryan''s calm gaze with a tough look, but his mind was stormy. He had to admit that he was a bit too big this time. He didn''t expect that there would be such a dangerous guy among these smugglers!

    "Can you please pretend that you haven''t met us tonight?"

    A voice full of vicissitudes and hoarseness came from behind the twisted vortex. It sounded polite, but anyone knew that this tone was disguised by magic.

    There are many Aurors present, but only one has the right to make decisions. Rufus knew that Golden Viper''s words were addressed to him, and he also knew very well that if he gave a negative answer, then next, this dark wizard who had fought against those brutal werewolves several times and suppressed Greyback and dozens of werewolves led by him head-on, and almost killed them all would probably not continue to ask politely.

    The underground world of Knockturn Alley was a very headache-inducing existence for every generation of the Ministry of Magic.

    On the one hand, most of the wizards who operated there were faction wizards. Although Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had been the main ce for wizarding education for hundreds of years, these faction wizards had a longer history that could be traced back to before Merlin.

    Wizards revered tradition. If the Ministry of Magic decided to strangle the dark and mysterious underground world''s wizards, they would probably get very limited support. In addition, many of the existing Sacred Twenty-Eight families had connections with some of the forces in the underground world. They would also bring considerable resistance.

    There is also a very important point. Although for so many years, the Magical Law Enforcement Department has been secretly collecting information on active wizards in the underground world and has indeed dealt with some ''small characters'', but for some powerful guys, the Ministry of Magic has always had no good way.

    For example, Greybackmitted countless heinous crimes that were too numerous to list, but for so many years, the Ministry of Magic had never been able to catch him, let alone the one in front of them who almost "annihted" the werewolves - Golden Viper!

    "The Ministry of Magic will not bow to evil."

    Scrimgeour''s face was cold and stern. His sharp yellow eyes glowed with a hint of red. He lifted his wand defiantly and said coldly,

    "Leave this¨C"

    Kingsley discreetly pulled Tonks''s robe and said quietly, "Go to the Ministry for backup, or as you said, go to Hogwarts and ask Albus Dumbledore for help. Move as fast as you can, Tonks. We can''t guarantee how long we can hold on¨C"

    Before Tonks could reply, Golden Viper''s voice that sounded like gravel scraping against metal had already passed.

    "Then I can only say sorry, everyone¨C"

    "Attack!" Scrimgeour suddenly roared, and in an instant, the dazzling curse light bursting from the tips of the Aurors'' wands like sparks illuminated the night with a clear sky.

    A silver sh sliced through the tense air, which easily suppressed the colorful curse light with its fleeting and bleak brilliance. The sharp buzzing that could pierce the eardrum made the space shudder as if an earthquake had struck!

    The battle ended very quickly, or even in an instant.

    Thanatos looked at a group of brave and skilled Aurors who fell to the ground and couldn''t get up, bleeding from their ears and noses with a metallic taste in their mouths, and quietly opened his mouth.

    Bryan walked towards a group of Aurors, and the spinning wand tip sprayed out strands of shiny silver mist. These silver mists between reality and illusion floated to those Aurors and entered their brains from their temples.

    "What are you doing, Golden Viper? I think we''d better not kill them. That would bring us a lot of trouble."

    "I''m dealing with the trouble you idiot brought me!"

    Golden Viper, who was carefully doing something, turned his head and red at Thanatos coldly.

    Thanatos seemed to want to defend himself, but considering Golden Viper''s strength, Thanatos didn''t say anything. He shrank his neck in fear and looked down at the ground scattered with arge area of bone dragon bone ash. His distressed face was twitching and he muttered curses under his breath.

    The rest of hispanions were soon awakened. With Thanatos''s exnation, they all understood who saved them from going to prison.

    "Everyone needs to pay me 20% of themission ie as a reward, and you, Thanatos, you need to pay 50%."

    Golden Viper''s words in a calm tone caused great dissatisfaction among hispanions. Theyined bitterly against Golden Viper''s ''unreasonable'' demand. Only Thanatos didn''t say anything. It''s not that he was a person who kept his promises, but he witnessed Golden Viper''s neatly defeating a group of Aurors. He thought it would be better not to provoke this dangerous guy anymore.

    "Even if we don''t give it, you can''t do anything to us. Golden Viper, you can''t attack us. This is a vition of the contract!"

    In the angry crowd, a clever guy yelled angrily, and his words also reminded others,

    "No one begged you to save us. Golden Viper, you are totally self-righteous!"

    Another person sneered. For this scene, Golden Viper was not surprised. He was not naive enough to expect that this group of people with no bottom line would be grateful to him.

    "I can''t attack you indeed¨C"

    Golden Viper cast a shimmering magic shield that glowed with blinding white light and enclosed everyone inside like a cage, while he stood outside the shield, smirking. With a scornful, twisted smile, Golden Viper said in a low, menacing voice,

    "But I can wake up these Aurors from their slumber. I think they will be delighted to see you surrender voluntarily."

    /FicFrenzy

 094 Meeting Again

    094 Meeting Again

    A heated dispute erupted when they handed over themissioned task.

    ording to the contract agreement signed by the people who epted themission, Kakus Fawley, as an intermediary, could extract 20% of themission from each wizard who epted themissioned task as an intermediary fee. However, everyone was outraged when they discovered that Golden Viper did not pay Kakus Fawley a single galleon. The ck wizards who felt cheated and exploited once again surrounded Kakus under the ancient, weathered signboard with a coiled snake carved on it and demanded an exnation.

    Looking at Kakus Fawley who was trembling like amb in the midst of a pack of hungry wolves, Golden Viper shed a smug smile. This trip had taken less than a month, and the task process had been grueling and perilous, but on the other hand, the reward had been astounding!

    Themission for the task had been two thousand gold galleons, plus one thousand from Thanatos, and four hundred galleons from each of the remaining six people. Golden Viper''s ie from this trip had reached an astonishing five thousand galleons!

    ''This was much better than being a professor at Hogwarts'' Bryan thought happily.

    "I almost thought I would be chopped up, Mr. Watson¨C"

    At this point, Kakus finally managed to rify the matter. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and approached Golden Viper with a wry smile.

    "This is all your own fault, Kakus."

    After Thanatos had also departed from themission market, only the two of them remained in the courtyard surrounded by low walls. Bryan said bluntly,

    "You should be grateful for my kindness, as i did not go looking for trouble with your whole family!"

    Kakus''s wry smile turned bitter. To be honest, he was also innocent. It was Dumbledore who had sought him out first. Did he have the right to refuse Albus Dumbledore''s request?

    "Uh, by the way¨C"

    After being away for a while, Golden Viper scanned the changes in the dim, damp, and musty underground world that was only illuminated by a faint green glow. When his eyesnded on the pet market, he expressed some surprise.

    "What about that old witch who sells monsters? Dead?"

    "Yes, she didn''t make it through this month¨C"

    Kakus followed Golden Viper''s gaze and pointed at arge patch of brown spots on the wall that were still fresh. He said casually,

    "No one noticed this at first. When her body emitted a foul and nauseating odor, someone found out that she had been dead for several days. After she died, her monster waspletely unattended. The wild beast that had been starved for days unleashed its fury. It ''handled'' its owner''s body, but felt that it was not enough, so it devoured those house elves as desserts, tsk tsk"

    Kakus smacked his lips, "That scene was really gruesome. Half of the domestic elves were stuffed into the monster''s stomach, and the rest were terrified by the fleeing elves. They all ran away from here. But I guess they wille back after a while. After all, they have nowhere else to go."

    "What about the monster?"

    "It was taken care of by someone. The famished creature eyed other seller''s goods with greed. The result¡­ Look, that crimson stter on the wall marks its final resting ce."

    Bryan and Kakus chatted casually afterpleting a lucrativemission.

    "Then."

    Kakus took out his notebook from his wizard robe pocket and flipped through it.

    "I have received some valuablemissions recently. No one knows yet. Mr. Watson, you can pick first."

    "No need, Kakus¨C"

    Bryan shook his neck and sounded weary. "I''m going to rest for a while. I don''t n to show up here for some time."

    Kakus nodded knowingly and put away his notebook. The fierce fight between Watson and his party and Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror Office who personally led the arrest team when theynded ashore, was no secret to him. The result was that the ''transport team'' was safe and sound, while all the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic were treated free of charge at St Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Injuries and Diseases.

    It was inevitable that the Ministry of Magic would retaliate with a bruised ego, and he might get caught in the crossfire.

    However, Kakus was not afraid of the Ministry of Magicing to him.

    He had two solid reasons to feel confident. First, the Aurors had no shred of evidence to link him to themission, nor did they have any clue about who carried it out. Second, behind this covert operation were a group of influential pure-blood families who had a vested interest in keeping it under wraps. They would not lift a finger to help the Ministry unless they wanted to expose themselves as well.

    Dumbledore''s ''absurd'' move had brought Kakus and Bryan closer as allies. They exchanged brief farewells, then parted ways. Kakus went off to attend to his own affairs, while Golden Viper lingered in the underground world. He strolled to the stone wall under the cavernous ceiling, where some ramshackle huts were piled with scales of various colors and sizes.

    He had earned a fortune, and he intended to spend it wisely.

    After haggling fiercely, Golden Viper purchased a few antiquated books from a Greek wizard, written in ancient runes. The wizard, who had no neck to speak of, imed that these books were unearthed from a temple. Upon examination, they appeared to be the research manuscripts of the legendary ''Herpo The Foul'', the first known Dark wizard and Parselmouth.

    Golden Viper gazed at the stack of books in his hand that were riddled with holes and stains, and scoffed inwardly.

    In this ''modest'' trading market, every wizard who peddled their wares had a few relics of legendary wizards whose existence was dubious at best, as their ''crown jewels''. A quick nce around would reveal a handful of Merlin''s wands or beards, which were specially crafted to dupe those naive neers who ventured into the underground world or foreigners who asionally passed by Ennd. After all, this hidden cave was also rumored to have some connection with Merlin, so these forgeries were also regarded as ''local delicacies''!

    After that, Bryan made his way to the end of the market, where he specialized in buying herbs and potion ingredients. He had a habit of Stockpiling materials for making magic recovery potions. Every once in a while, he would go on a shopping spree.

    And the wizards who sold those herbs also recognized Golden Viper instantly, the ''generous'' wealthy patron. Before he could even ask, they crowded around him and eagerly offered him the materials in those bottles and jars.

    In the herb market, at an obscure spot, there was a stall with some worthless and mediocre items. The wizard wearing a faded white robe stared at Golden Viper who was ''spirited'' and took out a lot of galleons. His eyes were filled with envy.

    But when his eyes swept across Golden Viper''s neckline, his emaciated body shuddered violently. Behind the mask, his expression turned pale. He disregarded his stall of ''junk''. He sprang up abruptly and dashed towards the stairs and ran towards the firece above.

    This odd behavior aroused Bryan''s suspicion. He watched the back of the wizard in bewilderment. And when he sensed the magic in that person''s body through his keen sense, His eyes widened. A terrifying aura erupted from his well-proportioned body and immediately intimidated the other wizards who sold goods in front of him!

    Crack !

    A few cyan metal spears shot from the sky. After a sharp sound, the fleeing wizard was trapped in a metal cage by Golden Viper like the Basilisk of the chamber.

    "Run again!"

    Plowing through the crowd of clueless people, Bryan walked briskly to the metal cage. Looking at the down-and-out guy locked in the cage, Bryan shed a wicked smile!

    /FicFrenzy

 095 Meeting Him

    095 Meeting Him

    The Leaky Cauldron was unusually quiet that afternoon. Most of the regr customers were either busy with their jobs or avoiding the scorching heat outside. Only a few tables were upied by some old wizards ying chess or reading newspapers. In a dimly lit corner near the firece, two men sat opposite each other with a pile of dishes between them. One of them was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet with a bold headline that caught his attention:

    "¨CAn internationally renowned celebrity and author of several best-selling books, recipient of the Order of Merlin-Third ss, honorary member of the Dark Arts Defense League, former professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry¨CGilderoy Lockhart, who was previously reported by an anonymous person and controlled by the Ministry of Magic, was trialed by the Wizengamot Court at nine o''clock today. ording to a source from the Ministry of Magic, Gilderoy Lockhart may face up to fifteen years in prison for multiple charges."

    Below this sensational headline was arge photo of Lockhart being escorted by two Aurors into the courtroom. The contrast between his past glory and his present misery was striking. His once shiny blond hair was tangled and dirty; his mboyant robes were reced by ragged prison clothes that hung loosely on his thin frame; his dazzling smile was gone, revealing yellowish teeth and a stubbly beard; and his bright blue eyes were clouded with confusion and fear, as if he had no idea how he had ended up in this predicament.

    This was probably thest time Gilderoy Lockhart made headlines. The man who was holding the paper folded it neatly and tossed it aside with a smirk on his face. He looked across the table at hispanion, who had just finished devouring another ferret sandwich with great appetite.

    He was Remus Lupin, a former friend of Harry Potter''s father, a member of the Order of Phoenix that fought against Voldemort, and a werewolf who had been bitten as a child by Fenrir Greyback, the most notorious leader of a savage pack that preyed on humans.

    Lupin had once been a handsome and elegant man with a gentle smile and a calm demeanor, but years of hardship and discrimination had taken their toll on him. His face was pale and gaunt, his hair was streaked with gray, his clothes were patched and worn, and his eyes were sad and weary. He had been living on the edge of society, struggling to find a decent job or a ce to stay, especially during the full moon when he had to endure the painful transformation into a beast.

    The round tea table was full of empty tes. Lupin had eaten more than he usually did in a week, thanks to the generosity of his host. He felt a pang of guilt and gratitude as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. He noticed that the other man was staring at him with a cold and curious expression. He tried to swallow the food in his mouth and showed an apologetic smile.

    "I think I must look very embarrassed right now¨C"

    Bryan sneered indisputably. He looked deeply at the patches on Lupin''s robe that were sewn with different fabrics and colors and felt mixed feelings in his heart.

    "You''re quite skilled, Lupin. I don''t understand why you ended up like this?"

    Bryan asked in a tone that was half curious and half mocking. Lupin seemed to want to say something, but he suddenly noticed that the owner of the pub Tom was carrying two sses of sherry towards them, so he quickly shut his mouth.

    After the pub owner respectfully put down the two sses of ck, thick and sweet wine that smelled like raisins and walked away, Lupin rubbed his grayish hair that had some white strands and said in a low voice with a bitter smile,

    "You know my identity, Mr. Watson. In the outside world, no one would be willing to hire a dangerous werewolf who can''t work for a period of time every month¨C"

    "The underground world''smission market has some tasks that are not veryplicated. With your ability, it would be easy toplete them."

    Bryan leaned on the back of the chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to continue asking. Lupin''s face visibly darkened. He didn''t answer Bryan''s question immediately, but stared at the sandwich that was left in the te. It was half-eaten and had some sauce dripping from it. This silencested for a long time, until even Bryan became impatient. Lupin finally opened his mouth with a bitter face,

    "Indeed. But I don''t dare, Mr. Watson. I''m afraid it''s hard for me to exin this feeling to you. It''s probably like this. I think it''s better for me to keep a certain distance from those things that vite thew, unless I want to be like Greyback someday in the future."

    Pathetic¨CThat was the word that came to Bryan''s mind after hearing Lupin''s exnation. Lupin was a werewolf who would rather live in poverty and misery than harm others with his strength. He was a kind and principled person, but sadly, in the magical world, that didn''t matter. People wouldn''t change their views on werewolves because of him, nor would they show muchpassion. They wouldn''t think about how much injustice and suffering werewolves had endured and why they had be like this. They would only reject and despise all kinds of different beings.

    Because of Greyback and his men, Bryan didn''t like werewolves, but he didn''t have much prejudice against them either. Of course, he didn''t have the mood to sympathize with these poor guys who had suffered so much injustice.

    Suppressing the slight pity in his heart, Bryan cleared his throat and said coldly,

    "So, Mr. Lupin, I think you must be wondering what our grudge is about?"

    Bryan asked in a tone that was half curious and half mocking. He looked at Lupin with a cold and piercing gaze, as if he could see through his mind.

    "Yes, Mr. Watson. I''m not surprised by your reaction when you saw me today¨C"

    Lupin smiled bitterly and nodded apologetically. He lowered his eyes and avoided Bryan''s stare. "Professor Dumbledore wrote me a letter. After you left Hogwarts, he reminded me that when I saw you again, you might react like this¨C"

    Hmph!

    The coldness in Bryan''s eyes and the cold snort he made were as sharp as each other. He looked at Lupin''s eyes indifferently,

    "I spared your life, Lupin,"

    The bloodthirsty aura in Bryan''s low voice almost made Lupin uneasy. He felt a chill run down his spine and his heart beat faster. He wanted to defend himself, but the young wizard in front of him didn''t give him a chance to speak.

    "But how did you repay my kindness, Lupin? You asked Dumbledore about my identity. You should know what kind of consequences that could lead to. If Dumbledore decided to get rid of me, then there would be only two oues for me. Either I would stay in Azkaban for a lifetime, or I would leave the European magical world and wander around the world.

    Hey, is it possible that werewolves express gratitude differently from normal wizards, so that I can''t understand why you would do such a ''repay kindness with enmity'' thing?"

    Lupin had nothing to say. After that fierce battle, to be honest, he was scared by this young wizard who had appeared in the underground world not long ago. Subconsciously, he wanted to find out the true identity of the ''Golden Viper''. He didn''t think much and wrote a letter to Albus directly, ignoring the consequences this would bring to Bryan.

    Defending and apologizing were useless in front of a wizard like Golden Viper. To solve this trouble, you had toe up with something that could interest him.

    "I have some information here, Mr. Watson. Maybe it''s worth something to you¨C"

    After a long silence, Lupin raised his head. The one who was only over thirty years old looked like a fifty-year-old man because of his precarious life and the trauma in his heart. His face was pale and gaunt, his eyes were sunken and weary, and his voice was hoarse and weak.

    "Fenrir Greyback has started to resume his activities recently. He arranged his men to inquire about your true identity privately. He may want to find your family. Besides, he also contacted some of his former partners. You should know who I mean. I think he wants to have a final battle with you."

    "He''s not dead yet?"

    After a contemptuous snort, Bryan''s tone was slightly surprised. "Werewolves really have amazing vitality."

    "Unfortunately, Mr. Watson, he is still alive¨C"

    Lupin took a deep breath and said,

    "After fighting with youst time, half of his body was almost burned by your powerful fire magic. Normally, even with the vitality of a werewolf, he couldn''t survive such a serious magical injury.

    But he was lucky. At the brink of death, he suddenly remembered that when he worked for the Dark Lord , he got a reward for an excellent massacre. That was a very powerful healing ritual magic that barely healed his broken body. After some time of recuperation, he finally recovered his strength."

    "It''s worth something¨C"

    Bryan nodded and then said coldly, "Butpared to the mockery I suffered, Lupin, if Greybackes to trouble me again, I''ll make sure he won''t even have ashes left. You don''t expect this to appease my anger, do you?"

    Lupin''s face was full of helplessness. He shook his robe to make the patches on it more conspicuous. They were like scars on his clothes that showed his poverty and misery.

    "You know my situation, Mr. Watson. If you want me to redeem myself with galleons, I''m afraid I''ll disappoint you."

    Bryan sipped his sweet wine and thought about this question.

    ''Kill Lupin to vent his anger?''

    Bryan would never do that. For killing, Bryan always had the most cautious attitude. His grudge with Lupin was far from reaching the point where he had to take out his wand and take his life. And besides, Lupin obviously had a special rtionship with Dumbledore. Bryan didn''t want to provoke the old man who was still the most powerful wizard in the world. He knew that Dumbledore had some secrets that even he couldn''t figure out. He didn''t want to risk his life for a trivial matter.

    Bryan fell into silence and Lupin also waited quietly for his decision. Neither of them spoke again. The only sound in the pub was the clinking of sses and the murmuring of conversations. In the meantime, when the pub owner Tom came over and asked them if they needed anything else, Lupin showed a hesitant expression. He looked at the empty tes on the table and felt a pang of hunger in his stomach. He hadn''t eaten so well in a long time. Bryan generously waved his hand and let him order whatever he wanted.

    Lupin thanked him gratefully and ordered another sandwich and a ss of pumpkin juice. Bryan had no idea what to do. He turned Lockhart''s face over and casually looked at the Daily Prophet while thinking. He scanned the headlines and the articles, but nothing caught his interest. When he turned to page seven, a recruitment notice in the middle of the paper caught his eye. Then Bryan showed a meaningful smile on his handsome face.

    /FicFrenzy

 096 Gentle Heart

    096 Gentle Heart

    "What kind of joke are you ying, Mr. Watson?"

    Lupin''s mouth fell open, his weathered and haggard face a mix of astonishment, shock and confusion. He thought Bryan was just making a bad joke, but seeing his solemn and serious expression, he realized this was not the case.

    "You want me to apply for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts?"

    This absurd suggestion made Lupin, who had survived the war years and had a wealth of experience, feel incredulous. He raised his eyebrows high and spoke hastily,

    "Mr. Watson, you must remember that I am a."

    He nced around the pub, where guests were walking back and forth, and lowered his voice.

    "This is a very good suggestion, don''t you think?"

    Bryan smiled, "Being a professor is a respectable and meaningful job, not only unrted to evil, but also well-paid. It can save you from the hardships of life. You should know that Dumbledore is not the kind of person who cares about worldly views and rules, Lupin. You have good skills, I think you can do this job well."

    When the crowd around them thinned a bit, Lupin continued to express his doubts about Bryan''s proposal,

    "It''s not about that, Mr. Watson,"

    He couldn''t deny that this was a tempting offer, but reason told Lupin that this was impossible.

    "Many people know about my werewolf identity, Mr. Watson. Do you think the board of directors of Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic will let Dumbledore hire a werewolf to teach young wizards how to defend against dark magic and those dangerous creatures? That''s too ridiculous. I am a dangerous magical creature myself!"

    "If you can''t face yourself, Lupin, how can you expect others to treat you with rational eyes?"

    Bryan continued to persuade him patiently, "Dumbledore will take care of all the problems you worry about. Besides, there is also a master of potions in the school who can brew Wolfsbane Potion, which can spare you from the pain of those few days every month."

    Wolfsbane Potion was almost the savior of Lupin and other wizards who were forced to be werewolves. Unfortunately, its high price was basically unaffordable for most werewolves. How many painful nights of transformation, Lupin prayed that he could have enough Galleons to buy this precious potion.

    Mentioning this, Lupin obviously hesitated, but thinking of the potions master who had a grudge with him before, Lupin could only shake his head with a bitter smile.

    "It won''t be that simple, Mr. Watson"

    Lupin smiled sadly, "If you have children, would you be happy to see their teacher is a werewolf who loses his mind and bites people''s necks at any time?"

    It took a lot of effort to think of this ''brilliant'' revenge idea, how could Bryan give up easily? He patiently enlightened Lupin and spared no saliva to tell him how many benefits there were to bing a respected professor.

    "¨CThink about it, Remus,"

    Bryan called Lupin''s name affectionately, "If you can do well in this position, what wonderful things will happen then? People may change their image of werewolves and no longer look at you differently. Remus, you are saving all the werewolves who are forced to walk in the dark with heavy burdens like you!"

    Bryan spoke passionately and eloquently. In the end, even he admired his own ability to bewitch.

    Could it be that I really have the potential to be the third generation Dark Lord?

    Looking at Remus Lupin who was only one step away from agreeing, Bryan suddenly had this thought in his heart.

    Lupin let out a heavy sigh. After all, he was a Gryffindor wizard. After Bryan''s persuasion, courage quickly gathered in his heart.

    "But there has always been a rumor that the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts,"

    Suddenly remembering something, Lupin looked at the newspaper on the table and frowned,

    "¨Cis cursed by Voldemort himself!"

    He pointed at the headline that read "Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor Quits After One Year Again". It was said that every professor who took this position would either die or suffer misfortune within one year. This was one of the mysteries of Hogwarts that had never been solved.

    "Do you want me to take such a risk?"

    Lupin asked incredulously, "Or do you think I deserve such a fate?" He looked at Bryan with suspicion and resentment in his eyes.

    "Nonsense!"

    Bryan shouted ''righteously'',

    "This is just a rumor, look at me, Lupin, I retired from that position safely, without any harm and even, after doing this, my luck has been good, I even made some money recently!"

    He showed Lupin a bag of Galleons that he had earned from his various schemes.

    From all aspects, Bryan''s opinion was a very good proposal, but it was precisely because of this that Lupin always had a trace of alertness in his heart.

    "Why, Mr. Watson?"

    Lupin asked in confusion, "There is no doubt that I have offended you, if you had used the same methods to deal with me as you did with those brutal fellows of mine before, I would not be surprised at all, but you didn''t do that, instead you kindly introduced me to a job, wanted me to make a living. , this is too strange, isn''t it?"

    He looked at Bryan with suspicion and curiosity in his amber eyes. He couldn''t understand why Bryan would suddenly show such generosity and concern for him.

    "Because I recognize your ability and kindness, Remus¨C"

    Bryan smiled gently, he already knew that he was about to achieve his goal,

    "I have done the professor of this course, and spent a few months with the little wizards in the school. They are all very lovely children. They should all receive orthodox and professional education. They should all have a bright future. And Gilderoy Lockhart''s thing obviously proved that even the great Dumbledore sometimes makes mistakes. I can''t bear to see those children waste their precious years. Remus, I think you have the ability to help them¨C"

    He put his hand on Lupin''s shoulder and looked at him sincerely. He tried to appeal to Lupin''s sense of responsibility andpassion for the young generation.

    The brightest noon sun dispelled the darkness in this somewhat gloomy pub, and also dispelled the fog in Lupin''s heart. The doubt between his eyebrows disappeared and he showed a relieved smile.

    "I have to go back and see if my herbs are still there, Mr. Watson,"

    Lupin stood up and slightly tidied up his old robe,

    "I hope no one has taken my herbs to feed the unicorns. Thank you very much for your hospitality, Mr. Watson, this meal will probably keep me going for a few days."

    He thanked Bryan for the food and drink that he had offered him. He knew that Bryan might have some ulterior motives, but he also appreciated his kindness.

    "About my proposal¨C"

    Looking at Remus who was walking towards Diagon Alley, Bryan squinted his eyes and stood up as well.

    "I''m sorry I can''t give you an exact answer right now, I need some time to think carefully."

    After all, he was a wizard who hade through the extremely cruel war years and wandered in the underworld for many years. Remus Lupin was more rational and alert than Bryan imagined. He didn''t want to rush into a decision that might change his life forever.

    "By the way,"

    Lupin said, standing in the golden light. His rxed smile made him look twenty years younger. He looked at the young wizard next to the table, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief.

    "I think I understand why Albus was so lenient with you after learning what you''ve done these years. You''re not quite like the you I remember."

    "What do you mean?" Bryan asked, his expression suddenly tense.

    Lupin smiled and waved at him, then walked into the light. A momentter, a gentle voice came from outside the door, reaching Bryan''s ears and making him fall into a long silence.

    "You have a gentle heart, Bryan."

    /FicFrenzy

 097 After The Meeting

    097 After The Meeting

    After bidding farewell to Lupin, Bryan had no intention of leaving the Leaky Cauldron with him. He felt drained from the endless tasks he hadpleted in the past few days. He politely requested Tom, the friendly bar owner, to arrange a room for him upstairs. He decided to spend a peaceful night here before heading back to the Muggle world tomorrow.

    The sun in early July in London shone brightly butzily on the streets. Bryan stayed in his cozy room all afternoon without stepping out. He only got up from hisfortable bed when the sun dipped below the horizon and the moon emerged from behind the clouds. He rubbed his sleepy eyes and stretched his limbs slowly.

    Once a person rxes, his body will soon demand more rest and nourishment. Bryan felt his stomach growl andin, so he put on his clothes and walked out of the room with a slight sway.

    Since Hogwarts had already started the summer vacation, the Leaky Cauldron was bustling with more wizards than usual, but most of them were just passing through this ce to travel between the wizarding world and the Muggle world. Only a few wizards chose to stay here for a longer time.

    Bryan also spotted a few students in their school uniforms, but he picked a seat behind a pir, which was hidden from their view. Those students who were thrilled about the start of the summer vacation did not pay attention to him. Bryan preferred to keep a low profile and did not initiate any conversation with them.

    He cut a piece of steak and savored it slowly, then took a sip of the smooth red wine. Bryan quietly enjoyed the leisure time that belonged only to him.

    The news that Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of Auror''s office, led his elite subordinates to hunt down smugglers, but was ambushed and injured by a dark wizard did not appear in the Daily Prophet. Therefore, the main topic of discussion among the guests around was still Gilderoy Lockhart, who had just resigned from the position of Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in a scandalous way.

    It is a truth universally acknowledged that everyone pushes when the wall falls. After his past despicable crimes were exposed, Lockhart, whose works were popr throughout the European wizarding world, became a ck sheep that everyone despised and ridiculed. Overnight, all his fans vanished.

    The wizards around who were talking about this topic all scoffed and imed that they had seen through his true face a long time ago, as if they would be ashamed if they didn''t say so.

    "¨CFifteen years in prison, the Wizengamot is not merciful this time,"

    Bryan shook his head and sighed slightly. He wondered what fate awaited this guy in the original book. He guessed it would not be better than it is now.

    As Bryan was ''praying'' for Lockhart who was suffering in prison, he heard a familiar voice that made him frown.

    "Sit over there, Draco. And don''t you notice that your mother is holding something in her hand? How did I teach you?"

    It was Lucius Malfoy, who had just entered the Leaky Cauldron with his wife and son. He walked with an air of authority and disdain, as if he owned the ce and everyone in it. He ignored the curious and fearful nces from the other patrons and headed to a secluded table in the corner of the bar. His wife Narcissa followed him closely, clutching a small package in her hand and looking around nervously. She was a beautiful woman, but her face was pale and tense, as if she expected trouble at any moment.

    Draco followed his parents with a smug smile and a swagger in his step. He enjoyed the attention he was getting, especially from the Slytherin students who were also present in the bar. He spotted Bryan sitting at the table and quickened his pace. He grabbed the package from his mother''s hand with an impatient gesture and rolled his eyes behind his father''s back. He muttered as he sat down next to Bryan.

    "Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff, so Hufflepuff won. Then Ravenw also lost to Hufflepuff. You defeated Hufflepuff and lost to Gryffindor in the final match but scored higher than Gryffindor in total points. As a result, you won the championship?"

    Bryan raised his eyebrows and looked at Draco who became animated and a bit nervous when he met him. He blinked and smiled,

    "Wood didn''t kill Potter?"

    "I suspect he wanted to kill all the Gryffindor team!"

    Draco grinned with satisfaction. His father being kicked out of the Hogwarts board of directors did make him gloomy for a while, but the final Quidditch match victory restored all his pride! He recalled the final score of 170-130 between Gryffindor and Slytherin in that match, when Mrs. Hooch announced that Slytherin won by arge margin. At that moment, those Gryffindors on the team looked like they had been petrified on their flying brooms. Draco couldn''t contain the smile on his face as he watched their dismayed expressions.

    While Draco was enthusiastically telling Bryan about the details of that final match with a grin on his face, Lucius remained strangely silent. He didn''t nce at his son or scrutinize Bryan. His light gray eyes just fixed on the peopleing and going in the bar, radiating coldness.

    "Draco."

    Narcissa Malfoy, who had also been quiet until then, suddenly cut off her son''s bragging. She looked at her husband with an aloof expression, stood up gracefully, and said in a much more serious tone than usual when addressing Draco,

    "I just remembered that the few dresses I ordered at Madam Malkin''s Robes shop should be ready by now. I need you toe with me and try them on."

    "It''s just a few dresses, mother, there''s no need¨C"

    "How dare you disobey your mother''s request, Draco?"

    Lucius came out of his frozen state. He red at Malfoy and snapped at him.

    Watching Draco, who was reluctant to follow his mother out of the Leaky Cauldron, Bryan shifted his gaze away from him, took out his wand and muttered ''Muffliato''. Then he smiled at Lucius Malfoy,

    "Your wife is very beautiful, Lucius, and very smart."

    Lucius didn''t say anything. He was studying the young wizard in front of him who was hard to read. Unconsciously, his breathing became slightly faster.

    "¨CI heard that since you lost the position of Hogwarts board member, you have been in trouble for a while. The father of several children in the Weasley family, Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, seemed to have visited your manor many times to seek justice for his little daughter, and discovered a lot of interesting gadgets?"

    Lucius''s gray eyes burned with rage as he thought of that blood traitor who liked Muggles. Arthur Weasley had been a constant thorn in his side for a while, making him a joke among the pure-blood families. And what frustrated him even more was that Arthur, despite his lowly position, had a long-standing seniority in the Ministry of Magic and a good rapport with many people. The pressure he tried to exert on him through the higher-ups was ineffective.

    "This is also thanks to you, isn''t it?"

    Lucius took a deep breath and looked at Bryan. Although there was a faint smile on his face, there was no warmth in his gray eyes.

    "There is something that has baffled me for a long time, Mr. Watson. You broke into the Chamber of Secrets of Slytherin and subdued that beast, saving several students. To reward you, Fudge even went through a special procedure to award you a worthless medal. But why didn''t the Daily Prophet report this at all? It''s as if everything was done by Harry Potter and his impulsive friends."

    "What do you think is the reason, Mr. Malfoy?"

    Bryan picked up the goblet and took a sip of red wine. He smiled slightly.

    /FicFrenzy

 098 Wait For Death

    098 Wait For Death

    As the scion of one of the twenty-eight sacred pureblood families that traced their lineage back to the ancient times, the business tycoon of the British wizarding world that controlled countless enterprises and organizations, and the undisputed lord of the Malfoy family that was renowned for its wealth, power, and shrewdness, Lucius Malfoy prided himself on being a wizard who had seen a lot of the world and was not easily surprised by anything.

    He had rubbed shoulders with high-ranking officials of the Ministry of Magic in Britain and many other European countries, negotiating policies and contracts with them. He had consulted with renowned schrs, skilled potion masters, and other experts in various fields of magic, learning from their knowledge and experience. He had dealt with greedy and cunning goblins, bargaining with them for gold and treasures. He had mingled with many outstanding wizards who were leaders in their respective fields,peting or cooperating with them for fame and glory.

    But to be honest, the feeling that this young wizard gave him was¡­ Lucius didn''t know how to describe it. It was a bit like facing Dumbledore, the old headmaster of Hogwarts who was revered as the greatest wizard of the age. And it was a bit like facing the young Voldemort, the dark lord who had almost conquered the wizarding world with his charisma and cruelty.

    "¨CI think,"

    Lucius felt ridiculous for his feeling. He secretly adjusted his breathing rhythm, trying to calm his racing heart. He rxed his expression a bit, smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead. He tried to use his rich negotiation experience to gain the initiative in this exchange.

    "Could it be that Dumbledore was afraid that you would steal the limelight from his favorite student, so he specially talked to the Minister?"

    He said in a mocking tone, hoping to provoke the young man''s anger or pride.

    "Your level of sowing discord is really disappointing, Mr. Malfoy¨C"

    But Bryan''s smile didn''t change at all. He just said with a hint of yfulness in his purple eyes that contrasted sharply with his ck hair,

    "If you are really curious, I don''t mind telling you. Actually, this was a request I made to Dumbledore myself. And as for the reason¨C"

    Lucius held his breath subconsciously. He stared at Bryan''s eyes without moving, hoping that this would put some psychological pressure on the young man. But the words that came into his ears soon shattered all his calctions and pretenses.

    "Of course it''s for the sake of one day in the future, when that Dark Lord who can''t even be named reappears in people''s sight. When he learns about what happened at Hogwartsst year, he won''t target me as his enemy. To be honest, Mr. Malfoy, you don''t think that the thing you secretly stuffed into Ginny Weasley''s backpack was just an ordinary diary, or a little gadget that the Dark Lord made when he was bored in Professor Binns''s History of Magic ss at Hogwarts, do you?"

    He said casually, as if he was talking about the weather.

    "What do you mean?!"

    The fine sweat beads on his not-so-full forehead showed that Lucius was shocked beyond words. Lucius''s face was pale as death. His lips were cracked like parchednd. His eyes lost their calmness and became restless and fearful. He couldn''t believe what he just heard.

    The Dark Lord wille back? Among those followers of Voldemort who were called Death Eaters by their enemies, quite a few still missed their old master and hoped for his return. But these people definitely did not include Lucius Malfoy.

    He would never forget what means he used and what promises he made to avoid being sent to Azkaban with Dementors after the Dark Lord fell. He betrayed his formerrades, lied to the Ministry, bribed the judges, and even donated generously to various charities. If the Dark Lord came back one day, then what awaited the Malfoy family would definitely not be a reward but a cruel punishment.

    Lucius knew how terrible the Dark Lord was. He had seen him torture and kill countless people with his own eyes. He had felt his wrath and fear when he failed him or displeased him. He didn''t want to lie to himself that he had never imagined that the Dark Lord woulde back one day. But as time went by, he thought that this possibility was almost zero. Otherwise, he would not have stuffed the thing that the Dark Lord gave him when he entrusted him to take good care of it into that weasley girl''s backpack just to trouble her father who was a poor and ignorant blood traitor!

    "Only that old fool Dumbledore thinks he wille back. He wants to scare people so that he can always get respect!"

    Lucius had no time to care about his hoarse voice. He said with his remaining reason, trying to convince himself more than Bryan.

    "Maybe¨C"

    Bryan shrugged nomittally, as if he didn''t care whether Lucius believed him or not.

    "At least I think Dumbledore''s worries are reasonable, Mr. Malfoy. You obviously know more about the Dark Lord''s power than I do, don''t you?"

    Bryan''s words hit Lucius''s weakness like a sharp dagger. He clenched his teeth and looked like he was struck by lightning. His blond hair was disheveled and his elegant suit was wrinkled. It took him a long time before his heart that was frozen by fear began to beat again.

    "Dumbledore told you¡­ You know what that diary is, don''t you? Tell me!"

    He shouted desperately, hoping to get some answers from Bryan. He wanted to know if there was any way to undo what he had done, to erase the traces of his involvement, to escape the Dark Lord''s wrath.

    "I''m here today to tell you these things just to give you a heads-up, Mr. Malfoy. Not to save your miserable life."

    Bryan lowered his eyelids and his eyes were deep and unfathomable.

    "I don''t care about your fate at all, Malfoy. But if possible, I do hope to save Draco''s innocent soul. If one day in the future the Dark Lord returns to the people, then I hope you are prepared to ensure that Draco and his mother can escape death. As for you, Lucius Malfoy, you can wait for death¨C"

    Lucius Malfoy was a shrewd businessman. He worked hard for half his life for two things: one was the glory of his family, and the other was wealth. But before the lives of Narcissa and Draco, all these were insignificant! He loved his wife and son more than anything in the world. He would do anything to protect them from harm.

    "Tell me, Watson, what is that thing? If you really pity Draco!"

    Lucius''s roar was covered by Bryan''s spell effect, but his strange state still attracted the attention of many people in the Leaky Cauldron. The bartender Tom behind the bar obviously recognized the famous Mr. Malfoy. After a little hesitation, he was about toe over and ask what was going on. But the deep look that the young man opposite Mr. Malfoy swept over him made him stop his steps and shiver.

    "I know how you got into Hogwarts, Watson!"

    Lucius was not in his right mind at this moment. If he was rational and clear-headed as usual, he would know that his words would only anger Bryan Watson, not help him solve the puzzle. But the safety of Narcissa and Draco clouded his judgment and made him blurt out.

    "I know Fudge. He must have never thought that he issued a special order and awarded a precious Merlin Second ss Medal to a criminal who lurked in the underworld. I can figure out your identity there, Watson. You don''t want to be disgraced, do you!"

    He snarled menacingly, hoping to intimidate Bryan into telling him what he wanted to know.

    "Oh, how interesting. You''re actually trying to dig up my dirt?"

    Bryan put down his wine ss andughed coldly.

    "Malfoy, even if I never bothered to inquire, those despicable things you did in private still came into my ears one after another. I heard that after Arthur Weasley emptied those things you hid in your house, you spent a lot of money to avoid punishment? And also, to fill your empty collection room, you spent a lot of Galleons to get a batch of new goods from Kakus?"

    Slowly, he stood up and looked down condescendingly at Lucius who was sitting on the chair like a puppet with broken strings. The chill in his eyes seemed to freeze the ck Lake.

    "Who do you think I am, Malfoy? The good old Dumbledore? Who gave you the courage to talk nonsense in front of me? Is it those cold coins?"

    /FicFrenzy

 099 Despair

    099 Despair

    Malfoy felt a surge of panic rising in his chest, but he tried to suppress it and put on a mocking smile. He wanted to show Bryan how ridiculous he found his contempt for money and power, but he suddenly realized that he couldn''t move a muscle, not only his mouth, but every part of his body. He was frozen in ce, like a statue.

    Unbeknownst to him, the noisy bar had be silent, as if someone had pressed the mute button. The smell of various foods in the air, the strong alcohol, the body odor of the guests walking around, all vanished. It was as if there was a piece of eraser in the void that could ''erase'' reality, leaving nothing behind.

    Everything in the bar, which had a ck and gray color scheme, gradually lost its full shape, leaving only the frameworkposed of lines. The world quickly fell from three-dimensional to two-dimensional, and those remaining frameworks also disappeared quickly under the interference of a mysterious power.

    Everything that happened before his eyes had exceeded Malfoy''s understanding of magic. He stared nkly at everything that vanished in front of him, and even his thoughts seemed to be frozen. He felt like he was trapped in a nightmare.

    This was a world filled with infinite pure white, with no distinction between up and down, left and right, like a colorless universe. It was empty and silent, except for the sound of his own heartbeat.

    Lucius blinked his eyes and came back to his senses. He found that he had regained control of his body, but he still couldn''t move, because on the stone chair that appeared strangely under him, many cold chains emerged, fixing his limbs and neck firmly, as if he was being tried.

    In front of his vision, or maybe right in front of him, or maybe at an infinite distance away, two purple suns suddenly appeared. They were bright and dazzling, burning his eyes. In the pure white, the lines of human figures gradually appeared. In a few seconds, Bryan appeared in this pure white world. He looked down at Lucius Malfoy who was trembling. His indifferent eyes were like a fire dragon looking at a goblin who was cursing in front of him.

    Under the gaze of death, Lucius sweated like rain. He regained his calm and realized that he had made a big mistake.

    Since the Dark Lord fell, the British magical world had been peaceful for a long time. In the daily life of ordinary wizards, there was almost no situation where they had to wave their wands and fight with others.

    In times of peace, money and power were always the most deterrent.

    Entering and leaving various high-profile parties where dignitaries gathered, enjoying the envious eyes of those low-level wizards who were struggling to make a living in the magical world, whether they were half-blood or muggle-borns. Lucius Malfoy who had been lost for a long time suddenly remembered something he knew during those years when he followed the Dark Lord, butter deliberately forgot.

    That was, stripping off the disguise of power, the core inside was violence, or it could be said that it was strength!

    The young man in front of him who easily solved the items left by Voldemort and the thousand-year-old snake monster in the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets was much richer and more powerful than him in some ways.

    "Spare me¨C"

    Malfoy was never a man of iron bones. In a very short time, he found some ''skills'' that he had trained when he served under the Dark Lord.

    He cried bitterly, only daring to stare at Bryan''s feet. He tried his best to imitate Dobby''s posture in front of him and begged with an extremely humble voice,

    "Spare me my life, sir., Mr. Watson. Please do it for Draco''s sake!"

    Ding ding ding¨C The footsteps gradually became clear and made Lucius''s body tremble more violently. He wanted to raise his head to observe Bryan''s expression and judge whether he had any chance of survival. But he didn''t dare to do so because he was afraid that Bryan had the same habit as Voldemort.

    How could Voldemort who was unwilling to let people call his name directly allow his servants to look directly at his face?

    Especially after going through a series ofplex and dangerous human experiments, Voldemort''s appearance became less and less like a human being. His face was pale and snake-like, his eyes were red and slit-like, his nose was t and nostril-like. He looked more like a monster than a wizard. He had warned his Death Eaters several times not to vite this taboo.

    But soon Lucius no longer struggled with whether he could keep his life because Bryan had already given his answer with action.

    ng! The sound of a hard spear piercing through the body and then piercing through the stone chair was very crisp. The blood flowing from the abdomen quickly spread on the wizard robe like a red spider lily blooming on the other shore. It was gorgeous and dazzling but also filled with a strong smell of death.

    The severe pain hit Lucius''s consciousness like waves, making his body shake like a sieve. But he still didn''t dare to raise his head. He felt a cold metal tip touching his heart, threatening to end his life at any moment.

    "Spare Narcissa and Draco, Mr. Watson. I am willing to pay anything¨C"

    Lucius cried and made hisst most humble and sincere request in his life. But what he got in return was just a sneer of contempt.

    "Hope this will teach you a lesson, Malfoy. Don''t let it happen again."

    The cold voice came into Lucius Malfoy''s ears who was gradually losing consciousness. It made him who was already like a candle in the wind feel endless doubt.

    From the meaning of this sentence, it seemed that Watson had decided to really spare him his life for Draco''s sake. But Watson had already done it, hadn''t he?

    The bronze spear that pierced his abdomen brought him such a real pain. The feeling of life slipping away from his body was so powerless!

    Perhaps Watson meant that he would not vent his anger on Narcissa and Draco?

    Lucius Malfoy thought so and his consciousness was gradually devoured by darkness.

    "Dear, dear, are you okay!"

    A little yellow light suddenly appeared in the endless darkness, as if waking up from a big dream. Lucius Malfoy stood nkly on the seat behind a pir, ignoring his wife''s anxious call and his son''s worried gaze. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead and a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down at his wizard robe and saw no trace of blood. He touched his abdomen and felt no wound. He realized that it was all an illusion, a very realistic and terrifying illusion.

    After a long time, his pale face regained some blood. Lucius turned his head stiffly and found that besides Narcissa and Draco, there were many people watching the excitement around him. They whispered to each other, wondering what had happened to him.

    "Mr. Malfoy, are you all right?"

    The bar owner Tom squeezed in front of everyone. He looked at Lucius''s face that looked like he had just recovered from a serious illness with fear and trembling and said.

    He knew the reputation and influence of the Malfoy family very well. If something went wrong with the head of the family in his bar, Tom could imagine that what awaited him would not be a good end. He hoped that Mr. Malfoy would not me him for anything.

    "Where is that person."

    When he opened his mouth, Lucius was shocked to find that he was like he hadn''t drunk water for two or three days. His voice was hoarse and dry. He felt thirsty and weak, as if he had just experienced a life-and-death struggle.

    "If you mean the young guest opposite you¨C"

    Tom said respectfully,

    "He left a while ago, Mr. Malfoy. After he left, you were stunned silly, cough cough, I mean, you just stood here. I thought you were thinking about important things, so I didn''t dare to bother you."

    He tried to exin himself, hoping that Mr. Malfoy would not be angry with him for neglecting him.

    "What happened to you, dear?"

    Narcissa frowned at her husband and asked in confusion. She had never seen him like this before. He looked pale and frightened, as if he had seen a ghost. She wondered what had caused him such a shock.

    Draco''s expression changed quietly. He knew his father very well and knew his habitual sarcasm when talking to some people who were not very famous or powerful. If his father spoke to Professor Watson in this way,

    "Professor Watson is a very powerful wizard, father¨C"

    Draco''s voice was panicked,

    "And his personality can be very tough sometimes, especially when facing other people''s offenses."

    He tried to hint at his father that he might have offended Professor Watson somehow and provoked his wrath.

    "Offense?" Narcissa red at Draco unhappily. "What do you mean by that, Draco?"

    She didn''t like the way Draco spoke about Watson. She thought he was too respectful and admiring of him. She didn''t think Professor Watson was anything special. He was just a young and arrogant muggle-born who had some luck and talent. She didn''t think he deserved Draco''s attention or praise.

    "Draco¨C"

    Lucius who was silent suddenly interrupted Draco who was arguing with his wife. He looked at the confused Draco''s eyes and said,

    "This Professor Watson, if you meet him again in the future, you might as well show more respect."

    He said this in a low and solemn voice, as if he was giving an important advice. He had learned his lesson. He knew that Watson was not someone he could afford to offend. He had seen his power and his cruelty. He had felt his wrath and his mercy. He didn''t want to repeat the same mistake again. He didn''t want to risk his life or his family''s safety for his pride or prejudice.

    "Professor Watson has left Hogwarts, father. He is very mysterious. I''m afraid I won''t have many chances to bump into him in the future¨C"

    Draco hesitated for a while, not understanding why his father would say so. He felt a pang of regret in his chest. He had always admired Professor Watson and wanted to learn from him. He thought he was the most brilliant and innovative wizard of his generation. He wondered if he would ever see him again.

    "No, he wille back to Hogwarts¨C"

    Lucius''s eyes scanned the crowded heads and fixed on the dark night outside the door. He felt a chill in his spine, as if he could sense Watson''s presence somewhere in the shadows.

    He remembered the purple suns, the white world, the bronze spear, and the cold voice. He shuddered involuntarily. After being silent for a while, he exhaled heavily and said with certainty,

    "He will definitely go back there."

    /FicFrenzy

 0100 Return

    0100 Return

    He had left in the dead of winter, when the snow piled up high and blocked the door, and now he returned in the peak of spring, when the maple leaves had shed their crimson hues and burst into fresh green. The vibrant foliage contrasted with the clear blue sky, creating a refreshing and pleasant scenery that lifted his spirits.

    He was on the outskirts of the city, where the ground was littered with rusty iron rails, and the narrow streets had hardly changed since hisst visit. Unlike the muggle city that was constantly evolving, the wizarding world seemed to be frozen in time. The old buildings with a hundred years of history bore the marks of time, stubbornly resisting any change. They had a charm of their own, but also a sense of decay.

    The only exception was the six-story building with a sky-blue exterior wall that stood out among the gray surroundings. The bright color was like a ssh of ink on an old painting, attracting curious eyes from passers-by. Behind the newly renovated iron gate was a courtyard that had also undergone a transformation.

    The dirt-covered courtyard was now paved with smooth stone bs. In the flower bed in the corner, bright Tudor roses and clover grass were bathing in the morning sun. The golden sunlight danced on the delicate petals, sparkling with crystal dewdrops. A fountain in the center of the courtyard spouted water into the air, creating a soothing sound. A sense of satisfaction filled his chest as he looked at the beautiful scene.

    He wore a ck short-sleeved T-shirt and blue jeans, and sneakers on his feet. He looked like a typical muggle, standing quietly in the yard. Behind him was arge suitcase that contained gifts he had promised to Mrs. Reagan for the children.

    Carrying such a big suitcase was actually very troublesome, but he had no choice. He couldn¡¯t pull out a folding bicycle from a handbag.

    The noise of breakfast in the dormitory gradually subsided. He knew that soon a bunch of children in ill-fitting and worn-out uniforms would rush out and start their day¡¯s work.

    Delivering milk, delivering newspapers, washing dishes for breakfast shops - that was what most of the children¡¯s childhoods were like. He had done simr things when he was here in his early years.

    Of course, he soon got tired of these boring and low-ie jobs and started doing some more interesting and profitable ¡®tricks¡¯.

    For example, doing homework for children from a grammar school located in the center of the old city a few miles away, using his ¡®superpowers¡¯ to escort some bullied children to and from school, or reselling some small things that children would be interested in.

    Thest one had the highest ie, but he didn¡¯t do it for long because he ran into trouble. Although there was no such thing as ¡®urban management¡¯ on British streets, muggle police or government prosecutors also yed a role in maintaining the city¡¯s appearance.

    Time was a magical container that could turn bitter memories into sweet wine. Things that happened in the distant past and were not beautiful became fragrant with time.

    ¡°Experience is more important, Cage. Even if there are more residents on East Street, I can guarantee that I can finish the task faster than you!¡±

    A crisp and spirited voice came from the hall, making him snap out of his reverie. He raised his eyebrows and curled his lips into a smile brighter than the golden sunlight.

    When they saw the tall and handsome young man standing in the courtyard, those children who came out one after another across the hall were stunned. They didn¡¯t react even when they were pushed by the little ones who were blocked in the hall.

    ¡°Brother Bryan?¡±

    The brown-haired boy at the front of the crowd rubbed his eyes and muttered incredulously.

    ¡°Good morning, kids!¡±

    Bryan grinned and opened his arms wide, inviting them to hug him.

    The summer weather was as fickle as a teenage girl¡¯s mood. It shifted without warning, betraying its earlier promises. The morning sky, clear and bright, soon gave way to a sudden downpour. The ancient sewer, neglected for decades, could not cope with such rapid rainfall. In no time, the stone street was flooded with water that reached your ankles. The water was murky and cold, soaking your shoes and socks. You could feel the dirt and debris brushing against your skin as you walked through the puddles.

    But the bad weather could not erase the good mood of the children in the orphanage. They held their bags over their heads and walked quickly through the puddles with smiles on their faces. They ran from all directions to that six-story building that stood out like a beacon of hope among the gray ones. It was the only building in the area that had a sky-blue exterior wall and a newly renovated iron gate.

    In the not-so-spacious hall, Bryan was surrounded by dozens of children, some as young as four or five years old, and some as old as Harry and his friends. They looked at Bryan eagerly and listened attentively to him telling about the beautiful scenery of the outside world. His voice was warm and lively, his eyes were sparkling with excitement, and his gestures were animated and expressive. He made them feel like they were traveling with him to those exotic ces.

    ¡°-Not only Europe, Dean. The reason why I haven¡¯te back for so long is because I have also been to other continents. One of them is Egypt in Africa. You must have heard of it, right?¡±

    He took out his camera and showed them a picture of the majestic pyramids and the endless deserts that he had captured. The picture was clear and vivid, showing the contrast between the golden sand and the azure sky. The children gasped in awe and admiration.

    ¡°Wow, Brother Bryan, that¡¯s amazing!¡±

    One of the children eximed. ¡°Brother Bryan, I saw something like that on the TV in Mrs. Kelly¡¯s house when I delivered milk to her.¡±

    A little boy with red cheeks in the crowd waved his hand excitedly and shouted, ¡°It¡¯s beautiful there!¡±

    ¡°Can we also have a TV, Brother Bryan?¡±

    A little girl who still had a milky voice in her speech asked with envy.

    ¡°That¡¯s not a problem, Lena.¡±

    Bryan kissed Lena¡¯s forehead and smiled, ¡°I will talk to Mrs. Reagan about this. In the future, every dormitory in this building will have a color TV. Even, we can arrange a room to put a fewputers. That way, when you have some free time, you can take turns ying games or something."

    The children burst into cheers that drowned out the sound of rain and almost shattered the ss of the hall doors and windows. In the noisyughter, some curious children also asked why Bryan, who was a salesperson for a drillingpany, would need a drill in a ce like Egypt where there are deserts everywhere.

    ¡°Cough cough, there are also cities onnd there, Eliza.¡±

    Bryan touched his temples and said awkwardly, ¡°Where there isnd, there is always a need for drills-¡±

    ¡°Brother Bryan!¡±

    Squatting in front of him, little Hammer who finally found a chance to speak waved his hand. He looked at Bryan eagerly and asked,

    ¡°Can you stay at home for a few more days this time?¡±

    ¡°Of course no problem, little Hammer.¡±

    Bryan rubbed Hammer¡¯s hair and smiled happily,

    ¡°I will stay for a few more days, kids. In fact, in addition to seeing you this time, I also want to help solve your problem of going to school. The public school guys can¡¯t always fool me with theck of ssrooms and teachers!¡±

    The children looked at each other and thenughed strangely.

    ¡°This problem has been solved, Brother Bryan!¡±

    Little Hammer showed an expression of showing off. He shouted happily,

    ¡°Sister Victoria has already helped us negotiate with the school. By September, many of us will be able to go to public school!¡±

    ¡°Sister Victoria?¡±

    Bryan opened his mouth in surprise.

    ¡°Who is that? A new staff member?¡±

    /FicFrenzy

 0101 Your Name

    0101 Your Name

    As the sun set, the starlight that had traveled across light years of space was purified by the raindrops and regained its original brilliance. The starlight was reflected in the small puddles that had umted in the quaint streets and courtyards of the town, embellishing the wet cobblestones with a mysterious starry sky that mirrored the one above.

    In the six-story building of the orphanage, the dining room on the second floor, which was normally used for meals, had now been transformed into a festive hall. At this moment, a lively dinner party was being held here to celebrate the return of Bryan, the benefactor of the orphanage.

    If it came to the grandeur of the banquet scale, this banquet was obviously notparable to Hogwart''s opening banquet or Halloween banquet, where hundreds of students and teachers gathered in the magnificent Great Hall. But if it came to the joyfulness of the atmosphere, this banquet was more than enough to make everyone happy.

    As the banquet progressed to the second half, Bryan, who was originally the center of attention, was gradually left aside by the children and staff. Even on Christmas, the children who rarely had a chance to enjoy such a rich feast were eager to taste everything. They moved lightly among the tables full of fragrant fried steaks, roasted sausages, potato pies, cream puddings, and various juices. The smiles on their tender cheeks were more delicate than blooming tulips in spring.

    Bryan leaned on the wooden railing of the stairs, watching the scene in front of him with a gentle expression on his handsome face. He wore a simple ck suit that entuated his tall and slender figure. His dark brown hair was neatlybed back, revealing his sharp features and deep eyes.

    His eyes moved around, and when his gaze fell on that smiling face that was dining with the children, his eyelids trembled slightly and a different color shed in his eyes.

    This was ady with a gentle and pleasant appearance.

    She was one of the volunteers who helped out at the orphanage. She wore a simple style long skirt in beige that just covered her knees. Her emerald green long hair that matched her eyes was softly draped over her shoulders. Her skin emitted a faint fluorescence under the not too bright light. The fresh breath lingering around her body, even if separated by tens of feet, Bryan could still smell it faintly.

    Graceful temples and elegant posture¨Cthis was Bryan''s evaluation of her.

    To be honest, Bryan, who shuttled between two worlds and had a wide range of knowledge, had never seen ady with such a graceful temperament in either world. Thisdy who volunteered at the orphanage seemed to notice Bryan''s gaze. She turned her head and looked at Bryan by the stairs. She nodded her head slightly and there was a friendly smile on her lips.

    Bryan smiled back in response. Then, taking advantage of everyone''s inattention, he turned and walked up the stairs quietly.

    The upstairs could still hear the lively noise on the second floor. Bryan walked expressionlessly in the dim corridor. He looked around and tapped on the walls from time to time to judge whether the quality of this dormitory was up to standard. Unconsciously, he had reached the top floor.

    Through a steeldder next to aundry room, Bryan climbed onto the roof and walked to the railing.

    The view from the roof was not very open, because the low-rise buildings on both sides and opposite blocked most of the scenery near the orphanage. Fortunately, it was far away from trouble and dimly lit. Therefore, the starry sky was still bright and clear.

    Bryan rested his arms on the railing and looked up at the night sky quietly. After a while, a cool breeze came across his face. Bryan squinted his eyes and took out a cigarette from his pocket.

    Smoking was Bryan''s habit in his previous life, and he had a big addiction at that time. But since he came to this world and experienced infancy, childhood, and adolescence again, he had sessfully quit this bad habit and had no intention of picking it up again.

    However, when he was in a bad mood or under pressure, he would still take out a cigarette and smell the aroma of tobo. It was like an old friend who apanied him through many hardships.

    The steeldder behind him suddenly made a crisp sound of footsteps. Bryan crushed the cigarette in his hand and threw it into the wind before turning around to look. When he saw Victoria''s coat hanging on her arm and her gentle smile on her face, his deep and unfathomable eyes flickered for an instant.

    "Mrs. Reagan told me that every time youe back here, you like to stay on the rooftop for a long time¨C"

    Victoria walked gracefully to Bryan''s side and handed over her coat. "You seem to be a person who likes quietness, Mr. Watson."

    "Thank you,"

    Bryan took over her coat but didn''t put it on. He looked at Victoria who was wearing low-heeled sandals but still looked tall and elegant. He smiled casually and said,

    "Don''t be polite, Miss Hill. Just call me Bryan."

    Although she tried her best to hide it, there was something else in Victoria''s clear eyes besides curiosity. She had heard a lot about this young man from the children and the staff of the orphanage. He had changed their lives for the better with his generosity and kindness. He had given them hope and happiness.

    Every day she worked here at the orphanage, she could hear these children talking about their longing for this young man''s return with an expectant tone. Over time, she couldn''t help but be curious about him.

    "I heard from Mrs. Reagan and the children that you solved the problem of these little guys going to school. It''s quite amazing. Those officials and equally greedy staff in the same school who are sitting on their jobs are not easy to deal with. How did you do all this?"

    Bryan''s eyes swept over Victoria''s eyes and hair, which shone like emeralds under the starlight. He smiled and asked.

    "Actually, I''m not as good as you think, Bryan. I just asked my father for some help. He is a professor at the University of London and has some connections with some government officials. Although it took some time, the problem was notplicated¨C"

    Bryan shrugged his shoulders and made a modest gesture. He looked away and looked down at the street below where there were not many people left.

    "Anyway, Victoria, I have to thank you for the children."

    Although he expressed his gratitude, his tone was calm and indifferent.

    The two stood side by side, looking at the increasingly deep night sky, talking in a tone that seemed familiar to each other but was actually a first acquaintance.

    "¨CWhen I was here, the environment in the hospital was much worse than it is now. In summer, the room was stuffy and unbearable. We could only spread mats in the yard and endure the many mosquitoes bred by the backward drainage system here while trying to fall asleep.

    In winter, due tock of funds to repair doors, windows and cracked walls, there was a draft everywhere in the room. The biting cold wind was not something that thin quilts could resist. In order not to freeze to death, we would squeeze into one bed with several people, shivering and looking forward to the dawn. Many children who were about the same age as me left the orphanage and broke contact with itpletely. I understand this behavior because this orphanage brought them too many unpleasant memories¨C"

    Bryan talked about the past, the topic was abrupt, but Victoria did not show a surprised expression.

    "Mrs. Reagan told me that you went to a boarding schoolter. I heard that it was registered by your parents before you were born."

    Victoria tried to change the topic and asked gently. Bryan rubbed his fingers and smiled casually.

    "I spent my entire teenage there. It was a very good school. The food was delicious and I could sleep well. What about you, Victoria? I suppose your growing environment is much better than these children below?"

    Victoria lifted up the messy hair in front of her eyes and did not answer Bryan''s question directly, but said in an ethereal voice,

    "Actually, it''s not as good as you imagine."

    Bryan nodded slightly and didn''t say anything more.

    The two stood side by side, staring at the deep night sky, apanied by a kind of unspeakable depression. From beginning to end, no child came up to look for Bryan or Victoria. These clever little guys also had their own little thoughts. They quietly cleaned up the mess in the dining room with the staff and returned to their rooms. They hid in their beds andughed and discussed Bryan brother and Victoria sister on the rooftop.

    The lights in the houses on both sides of the street went out one by one. In the end, except for the dim yellow light from the two rows of streetmps, everything was silent.

    "So, Miss Victoria,"

    When the bright moon was westward, Bryan turned his head expressionlessly and spoke again. His voice was cold and sharp, like a de that cut through the air.

    "Can I ask your real name?"

    "Cliodna¨C"

    The elegantdy''s bright face showed an unsurprising smile. She lowered her eyes and whispered with a hint of apology,

    "Cliodna Coffey, this is my real name, Mr. Golden Viper¨C"

    /FicFrenzy

 0102 Purpose

    0102 Purpose

    "I was already very careful, but I don''t know when it started, it seems that everyone knows who ''Golden Viper'' really is¨C"

    Bryanughed mockingly at himself, his voice echoing in the dark alley. He leaned against the brick wall, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger.

    "To find you, we paid a terrible price."

    Cliodna''s tone was full of heavy apologies, she seemed to want to apologize for approaching Bryan in this way, but Bryan didn''t give her a chance to speak, he turned and left, walking steadily towards the stairs that led to the main street, until his figure disappearedpletely in the dim light, a faint voice came from the dark hole.

    "Let''s go somewhere else, Miss Coffey, I don''t want to fight with anyone here, especially with a powerful wizard like you."

    The two of them turned away from the city lights and walked eastward to the outskirts of the wastnd. Cliodna followed behind Bryan, keeping a respectful distance. As they passed a stone bridge over a small river, she noticed that Bryan''s footsteps stumbled slightly. He nced subconsciously at the slow-flowing river, where the moonlight reflected on the water surface. But soon he concealed his anomaly and continued to walk forward with steady steps, as if nothing had happened.

    The two of them walked silently for a long time, until the road leading to the outside of the city became a crooked path. Bryan stopped and took out a wand from his pocket and waved it violently. A powerful banishing spell made the animals lurking in the shadows flee in panic from thisnd that might be in trouble. A gust of wind blew over, making Bryan''s hair flutter in the air.

    "Tell me, Miss Coffey¨C"

    As a brilliant golden me swept over Bryan''s body, his short-sleeved T-shirt and jeans disappeared, reced by an old-fashioned dark green wizard robe that matched his eyes.

    The bad mood reflected on his face with azy smile, "How did you figure out that Golden Viper was Bryan Watson? I think the terrible price you mentioned shouldn''t be a bunch of galleons?"

    "It was through divination, Mr. Watson."

    In the wilderness, the billions of stars and the bright moon hanging in the night sky were the only sources of light. Cliodna, who exuded a ''natural aura'', seemed to blend in with the surrounding environment. Her long blonde hair was braided with flowers and leaves, and her white dress was made of fine linen. She looked like a fairy from an ancient legend.

    "Divination?"

    Bryan looked absurd,

    "I remember I cast some protective spells on myself that could prevent me from being located or cursed by some inexplicable spells. Miss Coffey, you are lying."

    "Divination and sacrifice¨C"

    Cliodna was no longer as calm as before. Her drooping eyes showed some decadence and sadness. She clenched her hands on her chest, where a pendant shaped like a bird hung on a silver chain.

    "You are a powerful wizard, Mr. Watson. In order to find out the true identity of ''Golden Viper'', a respected elder gave his life for it."

    "How touching." Bryan sneered, but his eyes were very gloomy.

    "What is it for, Miss Coffey? If my brain is not confused, I remember I should not have any grudges with the Druids, so that the noble ''Queen of the Banshees'' who inherited the name of ''Cliodna'' would approach me in this way?"

    "We need your help, Mr. Watson."

    Cliodna raised her head and looked at Bryan with her eyes as pure as jade-colored stars. She seemed to be unaware of the coldness around him and said sincerely,

    "Since you have heard of us, then you must know our grudge with the Church, Mr. Watson. For many centuries, we have been wandering in many countries in Europe and America, hoping to find a ce where we can live peacefully. But those priests who do evil in the name of faith have never stopped killing us¨C"

    "What does that have to do with me?"

    Bryan continued to sneer, "Don''t tell me you want me to take you into the Vatican and kill the Pope? In that case, I have a powerful guy to rmend. The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Albus Dumbledore is an old guy who is even more powerful than me. And he is high-ranking, kind-hearted. Maybe he will pity your poor situation and be willing to help you."

    Cliodna obviously didn''t take Bryan''s sarcastic words seriously. She had a calm heart that had been carrying heavy historical responsibilities for a long time and would not be easily shaken.

    "We don''t want our fierce ideological conflict with the Church to involve any innocent people, Mr. Watson. For centuries, we have been using our own power to protect our beliefs. Even if we are dying, we have never thought of using the power of foreign wizards. But"

    Bryan had no patience to listen to these endless histories. He interrupted Cliodna''s words directly, his voice cold and sharp,

    "Your purpose and why you came to me are what I want to hear, Banshee Queen."

    "We want to open Merlin''s ruins, Mr. Watson. There is a legendary item that originally belonged to the Druid''s stored there. With its power, maybe we can have a peaceful ce to live."

    "Merlin''s ruins?"

    Bryan squinted his eyes and asked uncertainly, his curiosity aroused by the mention of the greatest wizard in history,

    "Do you want to open the ck tower built by Merlin in the underground world of Knockturn Alley?"

    Before Cliodna could give a clear answer, Bryan suddenly thought of something and frowned. He remembered a conversation he had with a familiar face a few months ago.

    "I got some hints. Someone told me that earlier this year, a group of people from unknown forces that had never appeared before appeared in the underground world had issued amission to explore the magical ruins, but it ended up in nothing. Later, they started to inquire about my identity¨C"

    "It must be Mr. Kakus Fawley who conveyed the information to you¨C"

    Cliodna smiled slightly, "We only posted amission with him, and we also noticed that he seemed very interested in our origins."

    This is a difficult woman to deal with¨CBryan had this thought in his heart. She was so in both strength and wisdom. She knew how to use different channels to achieve her goals, and she was not afraid of exposing her identity.

    As the conversation continued, Bryan was not as angry as he was at the beginning, but he still had no good feelings for this woman who approached him by any means. He was just annoyed that he was entangled by such a person.

    "We don''t know what exactly exists in that mysterious ck tower in the underground world, but Merlin''s final resting ce is not there, Mr. Watson¨C"

    Cliodna raised her right hand, and the light blue bracelet tied to her slender wrist emitted a dazzling light. It turned into a wand made of two thick grapevines intertwined together. Bryan could clearly feel the powerful magic and vitality from this strangely shaped wand.

    Cliodna raised her wand and drew something on the void. After a while, a white scroll unfolded in the void.

    The picture on the screen was like a TV screen. It was an old female priest with eyes and hair the same color as Cliodna''s. She was in a primitive forest that Bryan had never seen before. The old priest stood on a gray-white altar made of stone and wood, and held up the wand in Cliodna''s hand.

    As the ancient and mysterious chanting echoed through the jungle, the dark green branches and leaves of the ancient trees around the altar bloomed with green fluorescence. The earth rose up with ck fog, and those faint lights and fog seemed to be attracted by something and gathered in front of the old priest, forming a vague light and shadow. The outline of the light and shadow gradually became clear, and a golden strange snake appeared in the primitive forest where people rarely visited.

    The old priest on the altar turned pale and vomited blood and fell down. After seeing that strange snake, Bryan''s eyes showed a sudden realization, and he finally understood how he was targeted.

    ******************************************************

    IMPORTANT:

    Below is a detailed exnation about druids in harry potter canon by JK Rowling:

    Druids are a group of people who practice a form of ancient Celtic paganism. They are known for their knowledge of nature, magic, and divination. In the wizarding world, druids have a long andplex history, and some of them have made significant contributions to the magical society. I have put some facts about druids in the wizarding world by J.K. Rowling below:

    Druids were skilled in wandmaking and used vine wood for their wands, following their belief that anything with a woody stem was a tree. Vine wood wands are sensitive and suited for owners who have hidden depths and unexpected talents. Hermione Granger had a vine wood wand.

    One of the most famous druids in history was Cliodna, who was an Animagus who could turn into a sea bird and had three magical birds that cured the sick by singing them to sleep. She also discovered the properties of Moondew, a nt that could make people fall in love.

    -Source: /writing-by-jk-rowling/wand-woods

    Druids also had a connection with Merlin, the most legendary wizard of all time. Merlin himself was said to have some druidic ancestry, and he respected their traditions and culture. He also helped to protect them from persecution by the Church, which considered them as pagans and heretics. Some druids believed that Merlin left a legendary item in his ruins that belonged to their sect, and they sought to find it and use its power.

    -Source: /writing-by-jk-rowling

    Druids are an example of how different forms of magic can coexist and enrich the wizarding world. They have a unique perspective on nature and life, and they have preserved their ancient wisdom and practices for centuries.

    /FicFrenzy

 0103 Decision

    0103 Decision

    The moon cast a pale light over the quiet garden, where two figures sat on a wooden bench. One was a Bryan with dark grey hair and piercingvender eyes, holding a wand in his hand. The other was a woman with long silver hair and a flowing white dress, her face hidden by a thin veil. She spoke in a soft voice, telling him a story that sounded like a legend.

    "We have received inspiration from the earth and the gods we believe in. The wizard who bears this snake will help us take out the sacred objects belonging to the Druids in the ce where Merlin rests forever. In the beginning, we made a mistake. It took several months to find nothing, and after a lot of twists and turns, through ordinary divination and investigation, we finally figured out that it seems to be the underground world of Knockturn Alley, the identity mark of a wizard¡ª"

    She paused, as if recalling the hardships they had gone through, while Bryan kept frowning, thinking carefully why the druid''s ritual divination would get such a result. No matter from which aspect, he had no intersection with these people.

    In fact, wizards were a rtively conservative and exclusive group, even wizards with impure bloodlines were rejected in the European magical world, let alone the Druid religion that had parted ways with the ''secret'' wizard faction for so many years.

    "We didn''t dare to look for you openly in the underworld, because we were afraid that it might cause you trouble. When we finally figured out who this snake was, you suddenly disappeared from the underworld."

    The Bryan didn''t say anything. If it wasn''t for Dumbledore''s ''conspiracy'' that brought him back to Hogwarts, he and these people would have met a few months ago.

    "Out of helplessness, my teacher, the first-generation priestess of the religion, had to seek help from the gods again. And this time, she paid the price of her life and finally got a clear indication¨CBryan Watson.

    We knew your name, but at that time, you were teaching at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. There was the most powerful wizard in the contemporary magical world, Albus Dumbledore. If possible, we didn''t want to deal with this wizard, because if the news leaked out, it might cause some misunderstanding to our enemies.

    We hid in the shadows and watched your figure. And when you left Hogwarts, how to approach you became a topic of discussion among us.

    Some partners thought that they should find you directly and exin the reason and ask for your help.

    Some people also thought that by hiding all the truth, as long as you continued to issuemissions in the underground world and provide generous rewards for tasks, you would always be attracted to it¡ª"

    The breeze whispered softly in his ears, carrying the scent of flowers. Bryan gradually rxed his tense mood. He stared at the mysterious priestess whose origin and ''true purpose'' were like a misty mystery. He was judging and weighing in his heart.

    "But I hoped that I could release some goodwill to you before formally negotiating with you. So I asked my friends to leave the UK and go to other countries. Based on the information obtained from the previous investigation, I found this orphanage and became a volunteer at the orphanage¨C"

    Hum. Bryan snorted coldly.

    "I think your partners'' suggestions are more sensible."

    The cause and effect were roughly like this, but there were some things that the Bryan hadn''t figured out yet.

    "For more than a thousand years, countless wizards and even Muggles have been looking for Merlin''s resting ce. But except for that unopenable ck stone tower in the underworld, no one has found any valuable clues. How do you know that the ruins you found have anything to do with Merlin? Don''t tell me it''s divination again?"

    Cliodna didn''t speak. Bryan knew that his question is probably rted to the core secret of the Druid religion.

    "What is in Merlin''s ruins? Or what do you want to get from there?"

    Cliodna, who had an ethereal temperament, apologized,

    "I''m sorry, Mr. Watson, I can''t answer your question for the time being, but when you are willing to ept themission and enter the ruins, you will always know."

    The Bryan couldn''t deny it and curled his lips slightly. Although Cliodna didn''t want to say anything, she didn''t choose to lie.

    "You should be d that you didn''t do too many unnecessary things during your time in the orphanage, Miss Coffey,"

    Bryan said lightly. "Otherwise, the Druids may have to change their priestess again."

    "What do you mean¡ª¡ª"

    "Miss Coffey, you ask me to risk my life for a mystery that you won''t reveal. You say there are ruins that have something to do with Merlin, but you don''t tell me what they are or where they are. You expect me to trust you blindly, but you don''t offer me anything in return. Miss Coffey, what can you give me that is worth more than my own safety? I know that the value of thismission is very high, and it cannot even be measured in galleons. What can you promise me that will make me agree to this dangerous mission?"

    Bryan''s voice was cold and stern, and he looked at Cliodna with a piercing gaze. He could sense that she needed his help desperately, and he was not going to let her take advantage of him.

    When Bryan returned to the orphanage alone, the moon had risen to the other side of the house. Smelling the faint fragrance of flowers in the cold air, Bryan stood quietly in the courtyard for a while. He felt a slight chill on his skin, but he didn''t care. When his mood calmed down, he walked into the hall with light steps.

    "Did you kiss her?"

    a mischievous voice came from the dark corridor as he passed the third floor. He was one of the orphans who liked to tease him, a boy named Hammer.

    "Go to bed quickly, little Hammer. Else I will beat your ass!"

    Bryan didn''t stop at all and said irritably. He knew that Hammer was just joking, but he didn''t want to talk to him now. He came to a room on the sixth floor that was specially prepared for him. He washed up simply in the dark and sighed with relief. Then hey on the soft mattress.

    Although His body had rxed, but his thoughts were still rolling like waves in the storm. Tonight, he deepened his understanding of the mystery and unpredictability of the magical world.

    The Druid religion that came out of nowhere used some divination techniques that Bryan never cared about before and figured out his identity and background. Although Cliodna said that they paid a huge price, Bryan thought that it was not worth mentioning.

    The biggest problem was still the divination result of the previous priestess of the Druid religion.

    This mysterious and ancient religion has a long history. Their conflicts with the orthodox church have been mentioned even in Muggle storybooks. Bryan believed that if they really wanted that legendary magical item so badly, then this kind of divination must have been held regrly for many centuries, but they never got any revtion.

    Considering the ''huge price'' in Cliodna''s mouth, Bryan thought that every generation of Druid priests might hold such a divination at the end of their lives.

    But why would they involve him? In the quiet darkness, Bryan''s brow furrowed again.

    He first heard of the Druid religion and the equally ancient name ''Cliodna'' on the Hogwarts Express many years ago, from a chocte frog card he bought from a witch who sold ''candies, pastries, cakes''. Later, in the fourth grade, when Professor Binns was talking about the grievances and conflicts among wizards, Muggles, and the Holy See in the Middle Ages. He mentioned them casually. When he finished his homework, out of curiosity, he went to the library to look up some popr information.

    But he didn''t expect that many yearster, he actually met a ''Cliodna''!

    After recalling his twenty years of life memories, Bryan was sure that he had never been involved with them before. But at the same time, he believed that there must be a deeper secret behind that divination that he still did not know.

    Bryan could tell that there was basically no lie in what Cliodna told him just now. But there were some things that still deserved deep thought.

    A legendary item that could help them resist the equally mysterious and influential church in the Muggle world? It sounded absurd to Bryan.

    /FicFrenzy

 0104 Merlinâ€™s Resting Place

    0104 Merlin¡¯s Resting ce

    "Hello, sir and madam, the tickets are seventeen pounds each, and thirty-four pounds for two. If you are willing to pay seven more pounds, we can give you a souvenir album and a tour map."

    In front of the gate of the scenic spot, a female ticket seller who looked like she was working part-time had a polite smile on her chubby face and said to Bryan and Cliodna who were traveling together. She wore a blue uniform with a name tag that said ''Emma'' and a straw hat that barely covered her curly brown hair. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she tried to persuade the visitors to buy the extra items.

    Bryan squinted slightly as the sun in the west shone on his face. He nced at Cliodna who was unmoved, and it seemed that this woman had no intention of paying. He curled his lips and took out a few banknotes from his pocket and handed them over. He felt a pang of regret as he saw the money leave his hand. He had worked hard to earn those Galleons by doingmissions in the knockturn alley, and now he had to exchange them for muggle currency at a low rate.

    He had returned to the orphanage two weeks ago. Since he graduated from Hogwarts, this was the longest time he stayed there. Not only to fulfill his promise to Little Hammer, the young boy who looked up to him as a big brother, but also because he needed some time to think about whether he wanted to agree to this Druid priestess''s request.

    After a period of difficult choices, Bryan finally agreed.

    Not because Cliodna could offer a generous reward. In fact, these Druids who have been chased by the Church like rabbits for centuries are all poor. They may not have as many Galleons as Bryan.

    He agreed for two reasons. First, Merlin''s relics are irresistible to any wizard or muggle. Even if Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, knew about this news, he would probably not mind running over to find out for himself. Although Bryan didn''t know what this priestess meant by ''Merlin''s resting ce''.

    Second, Bryan was always very curious about the divination result of thest Druid priest before his death. Both the Church and the Druids are religious forces. Bryan didn''t think he had ever dealt with these fanatical religious people. He couldn''t figure out why he, an orthodox wizard, would be involved.

    But deep in his heart, Bryan faintly felt that it might have something to do with his identity as a reincarnator. He hade from another world where magic did not exist, and he had inherited the memories and abilities of another Bryan Watson who died in a car ident. He had always wondered if there was a purpose behind his strange fate.

    Now it was summer vacation time. The famous muggle tourist area in Ennd, the Stonehenge Park on Salisbury in, was bustling with people. There were crowds of people everywhere.

    In his previous life, Bryan had experienced this situation often, but since he came to the magical world, this was the first time. In the crowd, Bryan, who was in thought, suddenly felt a coolness in his arms. He came back to his senses and found that Cliodna had been squeezed into his arms by the crowded crowd.

    She was wearing a long white dress with green patterns that matched her emerald eyes and her long blonde hair that was braided into a ponytail. Feeling her back pressed against his chest, slightly stiff, Bryan took a deep breath. A special fresh scent entered his nostrils urately, making his heart beat faster unconsciously. His consciousness also became momentarily dazed.

    "Sorry, Mr. Watson¨C" In the noisy surroundings, Cliodna''s cold voice was like a bucket of cold water extinguishing a little strange feeling that would inevitably rise in Bryan''s heart. He hooked his fingers in his jeans pocket and blocked the sound of their conversation with a simple silencing charm.

    "Is this what you call Merlin''s relic?"

    He looked at the Stonehenge that stood in front of them. It was made of several huge stones that were arranged in a circr pattern. Some were upright and some were horizontal. Some were connected by lintels and some were isted. Some were smooth and some were rough.

    They looked ancient and mysterious, but also ordinary and simple.

    Bryan couldn''t see anything special about them.

    Bryan exhaled heavily and sneered, "Merlin buried himself in the stone before he died? No wonder no one could find his resting ce for more than a thousand years."

    Bryan and Cliodna followed the flow of people and stood outside a circle of iron railings painted with white paint. They could see the ancient Stonehenge that stood in the middle of the in. Not far away, a muggle guide was telling a group of middle school students about the origin of Stonehenge.

    "¨CThe Salisbury Stonehenge, Ring Stone, Temple of the Sun, Prehistoric Stone Table, Stonehenge has different names in different historical periods. ording to scientists'' identification, it is generally believed that they were built around 2000 BC. At present, there is no consensus on how ancient people in the Stone Age and Bronze Age built such magnificent Stonehenges with extremely backward productivity."

    "Sir, why did people build it?"

    A curious girl with sses raised her hand and asked the guide. She reminded Bryan of Hermione Granger who was always eager to answer questions in his Defense Against the Dark Arts ss. He wondered what this little witch would feel after seeing Gilderoy Lockhart''s arrest report on the Daily Prophet. The former professor had been exposed as a fraud and a liar who had stolen the credit for other people''s achievements.

    "Good question¨C" The muggle male guide had to shout loudly so that the students could hear him. He wore a khaki jacket and a hat with a badge that said ''Stonehenge Tour Guide''. He held a microphone in one hand and gestured with the other.

    "People think that ancient people built it for astronomical observation¨Cthe main axis of Stonehenge, the ancient road leading to the stone pirs and the rising sun on the summer solstice morning, are on the same line; In addition, there are two stones that point to the direction of the winter solstice sunset. Therefore, people specte that this is probably built by ancient humans for observing celestial phenomena, and can be regarded as the earliest prototype of an observatory!"

    He paused for a moment, then continued, "Of course, there are also other theories, such as religious ceremonies, burial sites, healing centers, etc. But no one knows for sure what the real purpose of this stonehenge was."

    He pointed to arge stone that stood upright in front of them. It was called the ''Heel Stone'' and it was aligned with the sunrise on the longest day of the year. The students looked at it with awe and curiosity, imagining how the ancient people moved such a heavy stone without any machinery.

    "The founder of the ancient Druids built it for two purposes, besides using the power of Stonehenge for star divination, it was also to draw magic from beyond the world."

    Cliodna said in a low voice that only Bryan could hear.

    "Draw magic from beyond the world?" Bryan frowned and looked at her with a puzzled expression.

    "What does that mean?"

    Cliodna closed her mouth again. She stared silently at the door frame made of several huge stones. It was called the ''ughter Stone'' and it was stained with blood-red lichen. For some reason, she had a hint of resistance in her body, as if she didn''t want to reveal too much.

    Bryan pointed to the inner circle of stones that was surrounded by a rope barrier. It was forbidden for ordinary tourists to enter, but he knew that they could easily bypass it. He looked at her with curiosity and asked, "Although I don''t know what this stonehenge has to do with the relic you mentioned, I guess you have been in there many times, right?"

    Cliodna nodded slightly and said, "You are very wise, Mr. Watson."

    Her beautiful appearance attracted more attention wherever she went. Many tourists around them secretly cast their eyes on her, admiring her fair skin, green eyes, and blonde hair. She looked like a fairy from an ancient legend.

    But Bryan, who was with her, didn''t feel much envy. Instead, he felt a bit bad, because he finally found a wizard who could match his level of ulumency besides Snape and Dumbledore. He could not read her mind or emotions at all. She was always calm and cold, as if she had a wall around her heart.

    The two didn''t talk much for the next time. They just followed the muggle tourist group and visited this magnificent stonehenge. Bryan tried to observe it from a different perspective, but only vaguely found that the bnced magic in the void was distorted abnormally in this space.

    ording tomon sense, this situation meant that there was a high-concentration magic node. But no matter how Bryan looked at it, those stones were just ordinary big stones and nothing special.

    He wondered what secrets they hid and what connection they had with Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time.

    In the southeast sky, a moon had jumped over the horizon of the in. Bryan and Cliodna had dinner at a nearby muggle restaurant. Then they took advantage of the night not being too dark and set up tents on thewn with many camping muggles. They were both good at this. They didn''t use magic and easily built a round dome tent.

    "When do we need to wait?" Bryan asked after a long silence. He faced the rolling ''green waves'' on the in and felt a premonition that something terrible would happen in the next exploration.

    But this Druid priestess seemed very reluctant to mention anything about the relics. Every time Bryan casually brought it up, she would immediately shut up and say nothing.

    Many muggles looked at Cliodna who was standing with Bryan. She was the most beautiful woman they had ever seen. Her fair skin contrasted with her green eyes and blonde hair. She looked like a fairy from an ancient legend.

    Two young men stood up from among the muggles who were having a group meal. They were wearing casual clothes and backpacks. They seemed to be adventurous travelers who wanted to explore different ces. From their direction, they seemed to be heading towards Cliodna, perhaps hoping to strike up a conversation.

    But before they got close, they were deterred by Bryan''s alert eyes and turned away with a smile. They pretended to be looking for something else and walked away quickly. Bryan didn''t care about them. He only cared about Cliodna''s answer. He sensed that she knew something important about Stonehenge that he didn''t know.

    The tents around them flickered with lights and mes. Many muggles were still enjoying their night or preparing to sleep. Some were ying music or singing songs. Some were reading books or watching movies on their devices. Some were cuddling with their partners or whispering sweet nothings.

    Cliodna nced at them and lowered her voice. She said, "It''s better to wait until the muggles are resting, Mr. Watson. We''ll make some noiseter¨C"

    /FicFrenzy

 0105 The Door to Ruins

    0105 The Door to Ruins

    The night was deep and dark, but the moon shone brightly over the vast in, casting a silvery glow on everything below. The moonlight was so intense that it seemed like a powerful searchlight was shining on people''s heads, revealing every detail of their surroundings. The grass swayed gently in the breeze, creating a contrast of light and shadow on the ground.

    In the camp where the Muggles had set up their tents, most of them had fallen into a deep slumber, unaware of the magic that was about to happen. But there were still some Muggles who were awake, drinking andughing around the fire, enjoying theirst moments of ignorance.

    In the nearby scenic park, several night patrol staff were also asleep, curled up in their cozy guardhouse. They had no idea that a wizard had sneaked into their territory and cast a stun spell on each of them, ensuring that they would not be disturbed by any noise or movement.

    In the middle of the park, there was a circle ofrge stones that looked ordinary and ancient. They were called Stonehenge by the Muggles, and they had attracted many tourists and researchers over the years. But none of them knew the true nature of these stones, or the mystery thaty behind them.

    As the night progressed, a thin mist began to envelop the stones, creating a mysterious atmosphere. The stones seemed toe alive, emitting a faint and subtle aura that only a few could sense.

    In fact, the Muggles had discovered this phenomenon a long time ago, but after a series of experiments and research, the Muggle scientists could not give a reasonable exnation. In the end, they could only attribute this phenomenon to the abnormal geomaic field here.

    "¨CThis Stonehenge is broken, and the missing pirs are the key to opening the ruins. For a long time, we found one pir, but still failed to make up for it."

    In front of the stone gate that marked the entrance to the portal, Cliodna spoke with a hint of regret in her voice. She was a druidess, a descendant of an ancient magical tradition that had been almost forgotten by the modern wizarding world. She wore a simple linen robe that was slightly yellowed by time, and held a grapevine wand in her hand. Her hair was green as grass, and fluttered gently behind her. She looked like a fairy from a storybook, but her eyes were cold and sharp. She fully met Bryan''s image of this ''mysterious'' queen of banshees.

    Bryan pressed his palm against one of the pirs that formed the gate, feeling the warmth that radiated from it. He wondered what kind of magic was hidden inside these stones, and what kind of world awaited him beyond them. After a while, he didn''t ask how to open the ''door'', but turned his head and looked at Cliodna who seemed to have no emotional fluctuations at any time. He casually asked,

    "How many times have you failed?"

    "I''ve been in three times¨C"

    Cliodna replied indifferently, "My teacher has been in five times, Mr. Watson. There is a suppression that ordinary people can''t resist in the space behind the door. Of course, it won''t bring too much trouble to such a powerful wizard as you¨C"

    Bryan knew that Cliodna''s ''ordinary people'' were not Muggles, but other wizards who were not as skilled or experienced as him. He was not too worried about the suppression, as he had faced many dangers and challenges in the underground world. He was more interested in finding out why he was here in the first ce.

    "¨CBecause of ipleteness, when we enter the door, our position is also random and not fixed. The predecessors of Druidism left a mark in the center of the ruins. I can reach there by relying on the mark, but Mr. Watson, you may need to rely on your own strength to reach the center of the ind."

    Cliodna exined further as she pointed her wand at the stone gate. Bryan noticed that she used the word ''ind'', which confirmed his suspicion that they were going to enter another dimension that was isted from the rest of the world. He nodded without hesitation. He knew that this trip was not only to help Cliodna get her so-called ''holy relic'' that belonged to Druidism from Merlin''s eternal resting ce, but also to figure out why the ancestor of druid''s ''prophecy'' had something to do with him.

    Prophecy is something that seems illusory, but also follows logic and causality. Bryan never thought that he would encounter such a thing just because he was ''unlucky''.

    "Then open it, Miss Cliodna. I can''t wait to see what''s inside¨C"

    Bryan shook out his wand from his sleeve and stepped back a few steps. He spoke with a cold and calm tone, but his eyes betrayed his excitement and curiosity. However, before Cliodna could perform the opening spell, she stopped and looked at him with a serious expression.

    "Before entering the ruins, we will encounter some obstacles. Mr. Watson, you need to be mentally prepared."

    She warned him as she aimed her wand at the huge stone gate in front of them. Bryan raised his eyebrows and asked,

    "What kind of obstacles?"

    Cliodna did not answer directly, but said with a slight tremor in her eyshes as she stared at the stone gate,

    "When the pirs are in ce, this stone gate will be its original appearance: an Mirror of Erised. I think you must have heard its legend."

    Bryan felt a chill run down his spine as he heard the name of the mirror. He had indeed heard of it, and he knew what it could do. It was a mirror that showed the deepest and most desperate desire of one''s heart. It was a mirror that had driven many people mad with longing and despair.

    "Mirror of Erised - mirror reflecting inner desire."

    Bryan nodded and muttered something under his breath. His face was expressionless, but that was a sign of his inner calmness. He quickly ran his ulumency shields in his mind, hiding his astonishment very well from the mysterious woman beside him.

    "Mirror of Erised has two sides: one can reflect people''s deepest desires; and another one is used as a door for ruins. Only those who dare to face their past that they least want to recall have the qualification to step into ruins."

    Cliodna''s voice was low and solemn, as if she was reciting a sacred oath.

    Bryan''s eyebrows moved imperceptibly as he searched quietly for memories in his mind. There were many things he didn''t want to look back on, and some things about Mirror of Erised that he had never read or heard before. He wondered how she knew so much about the mirror.

    The existence of Mirror of Erised was not a mysterious secret. In many books introducing legendary alchemy items, there were introductions about this magical mirror that could reflect people''s hearts. However, Bryan had never heard before that Mirror of Erised had two sides, and that they had different effects.

    In addition, there was another problem that puzzled him: why would the mysterious ruins that Bryan had not yet entered use Mirror of Erised as a door? What was the connection between the mirror and the ruins?

    There was no consensus in the wizarding world about the creator of Mirror of Erised. Even if Cliodna told him now that the mirror was made by Merlin, Bryan would not be too surprised. But there was something about the name ''Eris'' that caught his attention. He was sure that even many Muggles were familiar with it.

    In Greek mythology, Eris was the sister of Ares, the god of war, and the daughter of Zeus, the father of heaven, and Hera, the queen of heaven. She was the goddess of ''dispute and discord''. Among her myths, the most famous one was ''The Golden Apple Controversy'', which sparked the Trojan War.

    Thinking of this, Bryan''s eyelids trembled violently. If it weren''t for the emotional disguise through ulumency, he might have gasped in shock.

    Ind - golden apple - Druidism

    Several nouns shed through Bryan''s mind like lightning, making him guess, or even confirm, that he had found out the truth.

    Since he learned about ''Merlin''s eternal resting ce'' from this mysterious woman, Bryan had only taken it as a joke. In modern wizarding world, Merlin, who had almost be a mythical figure, how could his resting ce appear easily? But now, Bryan was not so sure about his judgment.

    The central belief of ancient Druidism, the most important ind in legend of King Arthur, and the ideal holynd in Muggle Celtic mythology - Avalon Ind. In addition to ''blessed ind'' and ''heavenly ind'', there was another very easy to ignore alias: golden apple ind!

    Could it be that behind this door was really ''Merlin''s eternal resting ce''?!

    In a few moments, Bryan''s palm was sweaty and his lips were tightly closed. He resisted asking Cliodna beside him anything, but his heart was a mess.

    Cliodna noticed Bryan''s strangeness, but she didn''t say anything. After ncing around cautiously, she raised her wand and pointed at the boundless night sky. A stone pir with a primitive and ancient aura appeared in a dazzling and dazzling white light.

    Bryan took a deep breath and let his calm reason take over his body again. He said nothing, but his nerves were tense and focused on Cliodna''s actions.

    He had to be so careful because this Druid Priestess beside him who was bathed in vague light and shadow hid too many secrets in her heart. He had to guard against her!

    /FicFrenzy

 0106 The Past

    0106 The Past

    At the end of October 1979, as the night fell, the streets and alleys of Edinburgh, the capital of Scond, were bathed in a festive atmosphere. The city was celebrating Halloween, the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain, when the veil between the living and the dead was said to be the thinnest. However, the untimely, off-season thunderstorm could not stop people from dressing up in costumes, carving pumpkins, and trick-or-treating. The rain poured down relentlessly, creating puddles and sshes on the cobblestone pavement. The wind howled and whipped the branches of the trees, making them creak and groan. The lightning shed and illuminated the dark sky, followed by the thunder that shook the windows and doors.

    On the south shore of Forth Bay, Holyrood Pce (Holy Cross Pce), standing at the end of the Royal Mile, was brightly lit. The pce was the official residence of the British monarch in Scond, and had witnessed many historical events and intrigues. The dense rain curtain draped a hazy coat over this ancient pce soaked in historical atmosphere, but it still could not stop the murderous and bloodthirsty aura that lingered around it.

    Inside the pce, a secret meeting was taking ce among a group of fanatics who called themselves the Holy Thorns. They were a radical faction of the Church, who believed that they were chosen by God to purge the world of all evil heretics and sinners. They had a special hatred for druids, whom they considered to be even more evil and sphemous than ordinary magic users. They had also infiltrated many institutions and organizations in the Muggle world, using their influence and resources to further their agenda.

    A roar that could overwhelm billions of drops of rain hitting the ground at the same time sounded sharply and harshly. The garage of the pce opened wide, and thirteen ck cars drove out of the garage one after another. They were armored vehicles with tinted windows and bulletproof tires. They carried weapons and explosives that could cause massive destruction. Along the predetermined route, they broke through the rain curtain and disappeared into the night. Their destination was a remote vige in the Scottish Hignds, where they had received a tip that a group of heretics were hiding. Tonight, they wouldunch a surprise attack on them, hoping to wipe them out in one fell swoop.

    Tonight, the holy thorns would defend the glory of the Lord.

    In the city center, a happy birthday song came from a three-story building with a Georgian design style. The building was painted in a warm yellow color, with white window frames and flower pots on the balcony. It looked cozy and inviting in contrast to the gloomy weather outside. Outside the door, pumpkinmps hanging on the eaves swayed in the wind and rain, and their swaying rhythm seemed to be celebrating for the little owner in the house.

    In the firece by the wall, neatly stacked oak wood was burning vigorously. The fire crackled and cast a warm glow on the living room. On the wall opposite to the firece, wrapped by mistletoe around the edge, a golden apple made up of thousands of strange golden acorns shone brightly under the firelight. The golden apple was a magical artifact that belonged to Cliodna''s family. It was passed down from generation to generation among her ancestors, who were druids from Irnd. The druids were an ancient order of priests who worshipped nature and practiced magic based on natural elements and cycles. They had a deep connection with nts and animals, especially trees. The golden apple was said to contain the wisdom and power of all druids who ever lived.

    Mr. Coffey leaned on the window sill and withdrew his gaze from the endless darkness outside. He turned to look at the dining room, where his family was having a birthday dinner for Cliodna. His daughter, who was wearing a golden gauze dress and a crown made of vines on her head, was smiling very happily. She looked like a fairy princess from a storybook. His eyes showed infinite love.

    However, there was always anxiety on that handsome face that could not be dissipated. He knew that his daughter''s life was not as simple as it seemed. He knew that she had inherited not only his magic, but also his destiny.

    "Dear?"

    The graceful Mrs. Coffey gently brushed her daughter''s temples. She noticed her husband''s strangeness. Taking advantage of her daughter''s conversation with her grandparents, she walked quickly to the window and tried to use a smile to dispel her husband''s uneasiness.

    "This is a rare opportunity for reunion, dear. You should spend more time with your family."

    "Sorry, Hera¨C"

    Faced with his wife''s concern, Mr. Coffey also smiled hard. He looked again at the stormy night outside with thunderous rumbling. After a while, he sighed heavily.

    "I just feel very uneasy in my heart, Hera. I always feel that something is going to happen."

    A slender hand pressed on Mr. Coffey''s heart. The palm felt his chaotic heartbeat. Mrs. Coffey sighed slightly,

    "I know what you are worried about, dear, but"

    Mrs. Coffey looked at her daughter who jumped into her father''s arms and was acting coquettishly. She lowered her eyes and sighed again,

    "This is her wish, dear. She hopes to spend this birthday with her grandparents. You know that she will have a heavy burden on her in the future. I can''t refuse¨C"

    Mr. Coffey said nothing. He gazed silently at his daughter who was as lovely as an elf. In his light green eyes, there was not only pain but also hatred.

    "When we go back this time, I want to persuade my teacher to move all his disciples out of the jungle. There are many clues that show that it is no longer safe there."

    After a long silence, Mr. Coffey spoke again, but his words made Mrs. Coffey frown,

    "Where do you want to go?"

    "The Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts. It is very suitable for us to live there. The centaurs are not a problem. We all respect nature and stars. We can get along well with them."

    Mrs. Coffey''s hand left her husband''s chest. She frowned more tightly. After a little silence, she directly pierced her husband''s hidden reason,

    "Do you want to get the protection of that wizard¨CAlbus Dumbledore, dear?"

    "That would be the best result, wouldn''t it?"

    Mr. Coffey was not surprised that his wife saw through his little thoughts. He said frankly,

    "Dumbledore''s strength and magnanimity are obvious to everyone. If we can get his protection, then we can get a chance to breathe. I mean we don''t have to be so anxious to get that."

    "If it were at any other time, I might support your bold attempt, dear,"

    Mr. Coffey hadn''t finished speaking when he was interrupted by his wife,

    "But you and I both know that this is not a good time. Those wizards are facing big trouble themselves right now. That guy who is called ''the Dark Lord'' by wizards is making waves in the wizarding world. Albus Dumbledore is overwhelmed by it all. If he openly epts us at this time"

    Boom!

    The dazzling lightning lit up the earth, and the deafening thunder covered up the footsteps of death approaching. When the buzzing roar subsided, Mrs. Coffey continued to express her opinion,

    "Do you think he will attract another enemy that he may not be able to cope with even if he tries his best?"

    Mr. Coffey''s breathing became rapid. He had considered these things, but he had hopes in his heart,

    "Dumbledore is a kind wizard. I think you should know that we and the wizards were once one. He won''t stand by and watch us die."

    "That was more than a dozen centuries ago, dear. We have parted ways with them long ago. Maybe Dumbledore is noble and will sympathize with our situation, but I think a wizard like him will definitely not be kind to the point of being stupid. He will definitely not."

    "Dad, Mom?"

    The gradually tense conversation atmosphere between the two affected the other people in the house. The little girl at the dining table got a reminder from her grandparents. She tilted her head and blinked her pure little eyes at the hall.

    "Go and bring your mom and dad back, lovely little elf¨C"

    "Yes, sir!"

    The grandfather with white hair whispered in her ear, and the reminded little girl immediately jumped out of her grandfather''s arms, making everyone in the houseugh with her cute and mischievous appearance.

    Mr. and Mrs. Coffey took a deep breath and eased the slightly tense atmosphere between them. They opened their arms and greeted their daughter who had a red face and an innocent smile on her face.

    Boom!

    At this moment, the earth suddenly fell into violent tremors. The space above the first floor of the house disappeared as if it had been hit by a big hammer. The dust in the sky had not yet had time to show off, but it was already mixed with rainwater into mud.

    The suddenly darkened world, a cluster of white holy light fell from the sky like a meteor, piercing into the ground!

    The bright red blood, the piercing screams, the cold crying could not be suppressed by the thunderous thunder.

    "Woo, I will take revenge!"

    Among the broken walls, the little girl stood in a pile of acorns stained red by blood and cried helplessly. Several bodies with no light in their eyes fell before and after her, their palms weakly reaching out to her.

    "I will kill you all!"

    The childish voice made an unyielding oath to fate with deep hatred. Although determined, it could not make fate move.

    "Evil heretics."

    A cold verdict came from the rain curtain, and the holy light that washed away the earth shed again, recing the ckness that enveloped the world in an instant, trying to wipe out all the seeds that dared to resist in the soil.

    In the broken firece, the charred oak suddenly bloomed with bright green light. A small sprout stretched its body and grew out of the ashes symbolizing death. In a blink of an eye, it became a towering tree, blocking the holy light.

    "I''m sorry, Cliodna¨C"

    The old priest with green hair and green eyes ignored the howls of those believers who were pierced by the treetops. He walked step by step to Cliodna''s side and gently hugged her frail shoulders. On his old face, rainwater mixed with tears and sweat ran freely.

    "Why, teacher, sob sob, why don''t they leave us alone?"

    The little girl no longer suppressed her crying and burst into tears. She sobbed uncontrobly, letting out all her emotions.

    "We almost forgot where this hatred started from, Cliodna, and we don''t know when it will end."

    The old priest''s voice was sad, but his green eyes showed perseverance.

    "The only thing we can do is fight to the end!"

    Author''s Note: This text is a work of fiction and does not reflect any real religious views or beliefs. It is intended for entertainment purposes only and does not aim to offend anyone''s sentiments.

    /FicFrenzy

 0107 Colorless Realm

    0107 Colorless Realm

    "So."

    Standing in front of the arched water mirror that shimmered with a faint blue light, Cliodna saw a circle of golden runes on the edge of the frame, glowing softly as if they were alive. She waited for the picture in the mirror to dim, indicating that the connection was ready. She turned her head slightly and looked back at Bryan, who was standing behind her with aplicated expression on his face. He seemed to be struggling with some inner conflict. She nodded at him calmly, showing no signs of any abnormality on her face.

    "I''ll wait for you in the temple at the center of the ind, Mr. Watson."

    After saying that, without waiting for Bryan''s response, Cliodna stepped into the rippling water mirror with a determined look in her eyes. Shepletely disappeared from Bryan''s magic sense, leaving only a faint trace of her fragrance in the air.

    Huh- -

    The cool night breeze on the in brushed over Bryan''s face, making him shiver slightly. The messy gray hair danced in front of his eyes under the starlight, but he didn''t move at all. He just stared at the mirror surface with a gloomy look in his eyes. In his heart, he suddenly began to doubt his decision.

    The trouble that this woman carried on her back was bigger than Bryan had imagined. He didn''t know if his insistence on unraveling the prophecy and his connection with her was right or wrong.

    But in the dark, there seemed to be a voice constantly urging him in his mind to enter the world behind the mirror, otherwise, he would regret it for life. This intuition that was almost like a prophecy was so irresistible that it prevented Bryan from wanting to turn around and leave.

    Hum-

    After hesitating for a long time, Bryan still stood in front of this Mirror of Erised that was unknown to the world. Along with the humming sound, the clear water mirror gradually blurred. A few secondster, a picture appeared in front of Bryan''s eyes, making his eyebrows rise high.

    In the cold world, the snowkes falling slowly from the gloomy sky looked like white feathers floating in the air. The biting cold wind outlined by the snowkes seemed to be the only thing moving on the earth.

    London was frozen in this rare cold winter for decades. The streets were covered with thick snow, and the buildings were shrouded in frost. The people who lived here had lost their vitality and hope. A woman in her early twenties, with her hair frozen into lumps, skinny and ragged, holding a swaddle, staggered through one street after another in the city. She had no destination, only a vague desire to survive.

    The baby who was born less than two days ago in the swaddle tried to open his eyes and look at the sky. His cry was more like a whimper before dying. He was hungry and cold.

    Bryan stood in front of Mirror of Erised and silently watched the flickering light and shadow in the water mirror. In his heart, he felt a surge of emotion that he had not felt for a long time. He thought he had forgotten that past event that had changed his life forever, but now it came back to him like magma erupting from a volcano. In a trance, he seemed to have returned to that moment when he first came to this world, which was also the most powerless and helpless moment of his life.

    "Pitiful¨C"

    With a soft chant disappearing in the wind, Bryan''s voice also disappeared on this in with brilliant stars. He felt different from Apparation where his whole body was stuffed into a soft tube. It was more like the feeling of crossing through time and space. He lost his sense of body and felt like only a ball of thoughts wrapped in bubbles was traveling through the sea of stars at an unimaginable speed.

    In this state, time could not be perceived or measured. Bryan could only go with the flow. His ''vision'' locked on that white light ball that seemed to never be reached in the far distance. It was like a beacon guiding him to his destination. His consciousness gradually lost in the boring howling sound.

    Ding.

    Like waking up from a dream of life, a sudden and crisp sound of wind chimes in his ears made Bryan''s silent consciousness stir up waves again.

    Bryan looked around instinctively, trying to find out where that sound came from. But except for the door behind him, there was nothing human-made in this boundless space. It was like a void that had no color or shape.

    Suddenly, Bryan seemed to have noticed something. He quickly looked down at his feet and found that he was not standing on solid ground, but on ake that was as boundless as the sea. However, thiske had no waves and was as calm as a mirror.

    Bryan frowned and lifted his toes to touch the water surface. He expected to feel some resistance or ssh, but he was surprised to find that the water surface was as hard as steel. He reflected his figure perfectly on the water surface without any ws. The water surface rippled with one circle after another, creating a beautiful pattern. But after a few breaths, it returned to its original state. He continued to press down on the water surface with his toes, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn''t break through the water surface or make any sound.

    This was really a wonderful thing. He didn''t use any magic himself, but he could stand steadily on theke surface as if it was a solid floor. Just this point made him feel how extraordinary this secret ce was.

    Bryan lowered his head and quietly looked at theke under his feet. He wanted to see through its mystery and find out what kind of magic was at work here. But suddenly his expression changed subtly. What caused his reaction was not the mirror-like tke surface, but his own reflection in theke.

    No color?!

    Bryan''s eyes widened and looked at his right hand holding the wand. And this look made him frown even more.

    This was not an illusion or a mistake. The reflection of the water surface was indeed a true reflection. The self in his vision had indeed lost its color. Whether it was the old wizard robe that had faded over time, the fair palm that had touched many things, or the ck wand that had apanied him for many years, they all turned into a lifeless gray. It seemed that there was an invisible, mysterious and powerful force that stripped away the color of everything in this space!

    In an instant, Bryan''s eyes swirled wildly with curiosity. The strong and sharp magic poured out of his thin body endlessly, like a raging storm. The storm formed by the magic messed up the reflection in theke, but it didn''t cause any change to this secret ce that had been silent and sleeping for countless years!

    However, Bryan, who had raised his magic sense to the limit, still made some discoveries.

    He randomly chose a direction and walked a distance on theke surface. Then he stopped with a solemn expression.

    "That''s right. The time in this secret space is being disturbed by some powerful weird magic. The flow rate is not uniform. There are subtle changes."

    Bryan muttered in a low voice, then looked at the empty world with his lips tightly pressed.

    The woman Cliodna outside said that she would wait for him in the temple at the center of the ind, but there was nothing here, neither an ind nor a temple. There was only a vastke and a starry sky above it. Where was he supposed to go?

    "Ah ha, finally got in!"

    Just as Bryan was pondering with his eyebrows down, a cheerfulugh from somewhere in front of him made Bryan''s hair stand up and show a stunned expression.

    Someone followed him into the secret ce. How could it be possible?!

    Bryan fixed his eyes and saw that in the mid-air twenty feet away from theke surface, the calm space suddenly twisted like a distorted mirror. Then, a pair of strong and powerful hands reached out from the twisted space. They were covered with scars and tattoos, showing signs of many battles and adventures. He seemed to be breaking through some obstacle, struggling with his arms, and squeezing his body in bit by bit!

    Bryan had seen many strange and bizarre things in his life, but nothingpared to what he was witnessing now. He was so stunned that he forgot to be alert and just gaped at the figure that was forming in mid-air.

    Boom!

    The figurended on the ground with a deafening noise, unlike the soft ssh that Bryan made when he hit theke surface. It was as if a thunderbolt had struck theke, sending waves flying in all directions. The figure''s weight was so immense that it bent theke surface, as if a giant celestial body was warping space with its gravity.

    "This can''t be. This is too absurd."

    Bryan looked at the profile of the middle-aged wizard who wore a retro-style robe that seemed to belong to another era, had red hair that reached his shoulders and contrasted with his pale skin, and was unaffected by the mysterious force in the space. He spoke with a dull and incredulous tone.

    Bryan recognized this legendary wizard. He had seen him in many magic books, biographies, paintings, and not only him, but probably every wizard in the world would know this man!

    "Godric Gryffindor???"

    /FicFrenzy

 0108 Disbelief

    0108 Disbelief

    Bryan felt his face contort into a ridiculous expression, but he was too horrified to close his gaping mouth. He gazed at the red-haired man who radiated a domineering aura, rubbing his eyes frantically, hoping that he was seeing things.

    "This can''t be real."

    Bryan muttered under his breath, trying to make sense of the absurd scene before him, but he could find no rational exnation that could ount for his shock and disbelief.

    He had indeed sensed the anomaly of the time flow that pervaded this space, but that did not mean that he would ept the sight of Godric Gryffindor standing alive in front of him!

    He was one of the four legendary founders of Hogwarts, a formidable wizard who had been almost mythologized by history. His thoughts and ideals still influenced the magical world profoundly even after a millennium.

    What kind of power could bring Godric Gryffindor across a thousand years and make him appear in front of him? A Time-Turner? Bryan briefly entertained this idea, but he dismissed it in less than a blink of an eye.

    That was a joke, for a wizard like Gryffindor, whose magic was as deep as the ocean, there was no Time-Turner that could affect his temporal stability. Even for wizards like Dumbledore or Bryan himself, if they gathered all the power of all the Time-Turners in the magical world, they probably couldn''t rewind their time by even a single day!

    Besides, the past was fixed, but the future was uncertain. The power of the Time-Turner could only cut into the cracks of time and take people back to the past, but it was impossible to take people to the future, especially a thousand years ahead! Not even the most mysterious and powerful ancient magic could achieve that!

    "Who are you!"

    Cold sweat broke out on Bryan''s forehead like dewdrops on green leaves at dawn. He took a shallow breath and pushed everything like ''Merlin''s ruins'', Cliodna and prophecy out of his mind. His brown pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks and stared at the man who was only a few steps away from him!

    The man who had suddenly appeared seemed to have not noticed Bryan behind him at all. He looked around with curiosity and fascination, examining the surroundings and the ground under his feet. He stood there casually, but the whole world of ruins seemed to be wary of him.

    Red hair that shone like fire, a sword scar on his square face that added to his rugged charm, a sturdy body that resembled a knight in armor, and a delicate mithril sword on his waist that did not require a wand. All these details indicated that he was Godric Gryffindor.

    But wait, that sword.

    Bryan''s body jolted slightly, and his eyes widened in astonishment. The sword on this man''s waist was not Gryffindor''s sword! A few months ago, in Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets, Bryan had witnessed Potter fighting with the Basilisk using that famed sword. It was a shiny silver sword with dazzling rubies as big as eggs embedded on the hilt. The overall shape had a strong style of fairy-tale made objects.

    The sword on this mysterious man''s waist was also silver, but there was no ornamentation on the hilt. The style of the sword was also simple and in. Compared with Potter''s sword that looked like a masterpiece of art, this sword was more practical and efficient.

    Bryan pursed his lips and his eyes gradually lost their panic. Instead, he showed some gloominess.

    Could it be that this man just resembled Gryffindor and was also an avid admirer of Gryffindor? So he deliberately imitated his appearance and style?

    This exnation was more usible than Gryffindor himselfing to modern times across a thousand years and easier to digest. But Bryan still didn''t dare to lower his guard because although he couldn''t detect any magic in this man''s body, he felt intimidated by his strong sense of danger. This level of intimidation was something that even Dumbledore couldn''t produce.

    He wanted to ask again about the man''s identity, but before he opened his mouth, the man''s self-talking words had already answered Bryan''s doubts and once again shattered his psychological defenses.

    The red-haired man who was examining the man in front of him suddenly lifted his head and looked at the sky that was cloudless and pale gray. Then he broke into a grin and said,

    "I found you., ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, it seems that the shattered stone pirs that Rowena found and Helga''s prophecy were not wrong!"

    Rowena and Helga. Bryan could no longer deceive himself. This man was indeed Godric Gryffindor! But this brought him back to the original question, how did Gryffindor manage to do it?

    "Mr. Gryffindor. You."

    Bryan''s voice was hoarse and he opened his mouth with difficulty, but the red-haired man still ignored Bryan. Instead, he unsheathed his sword from his waist.

    Under Bryan''s startled gaze, he conjured a lion that was half bigger than the normal size, with two eyes that sparkled like rubies and a mane that zed like fire. Then he leaped up andnded on the back of the majestic lion.

    And this effortless and natural scene overturned a fixed notion in Bryan''s mind.

    He didn''t find it strange that Gryffindor could use the silver sword as a wand. Mithril was a kind of magic metal with excellent magic conductivity, but because of its scarce output and high price, and itspatibility with modern spells was not as high as wooden wands, it was gradually phased out.

    Bryan was also not surprised that Gryffindor''s Patronus was a magical creature.

    Many books that recorded history had mentioned this sporadically. It was extremely rare for magical creatures to be Patronuses, but not impossible. Just like Dumbledore''s silver phoenix and his own Patronus, they were both magical creatures.

    Bryan was astonished that Gryffindor rode on his own Patronus.

    As the only spell that could have a positive suppression effect on Dementors, it was well known that the Patronus Charm was a very advanced white magic spell. The core of this spell was not just pure magic, but the product of thebination of magic and the positive power in the wizard''s heart.

    Of course, the Patronus could not only be used to deal with Dementors, but also as a messenger with some casting skills.

    But using the Patronus as a mount? Bryan couldn''tprehend. The Patronus was a magical creature without a physical body, right?

    As a wizard with excellent magical talent that Dumbledore called unparalleled and with his outstanding magic perception ability, Bryan could see the general principle of most magic after a few nce. But the Patronus summoned by Gryffindor, Bryan had to admit that he didn''t understand how he did it at all. Just like he couldn''t sense any magic in Gryffindor''s body.

    Godric Gryffindor wouldn''t be kind enough to exin his magic principles. In fact, he never looked at Bryan from beginning to end, as if he didn''t exist at all. He raised his square face and his eyes that were embedded on his face locked on the sky. He jumped up and the lion under him carried him swiftly to the boundless sky.

    Bryan''s eyes followed him. Suddenly, he narrowed his eyes and made a new discovery.

    Under the gray-white sky, there was a very inconspicuous ck spot in the farthest part of his vision. If you put it in the outside world, you would only think of it as a Muggle ne or a bird or something, but in this empty ruin, it seemed out of ce.

    "Avalon Ind, it''s actually floating in the sky"

    Bryan squeezed out a sentence from his teeth, but he didn''t have time to deal with it for the time being. He looked at the fire-red lion that quickly became smaller in his vision. Bryan took a deep breath and jumped up in the next second. He transformed into a shadow and also soared to the sky!

    /FicFrenzy

 0109 Confusion

    0109 Confusion

    Hoo¨C

    In the gray and deste world, two figures, one red and one gray, soared in the high sky, like two meteors, streaking from the earth to the sky. They left behind a trail of light that contrasted with the gloomy surroundings.

    "Mr. Gryffindor!"

    Bryan''s loud call overpowered the whistling wind in his ears, but the red-haired man seemed oblivious, his eyes only fixed on the ind floating in the sky. He had a determined and solemn expression on his face, as if nothing else mattered to him at this moment.

    Bryan closed his mouth, the cold and sharp wind made him slightly detached from the absurd fact that Godric Gryffindor appeared alive in front of him, and his brain finally began to work again.

    Gryffindor was not deaf and blind, he was right next to him, shouting several times in a row, how could he not even nce at him, even if he was as weak as a bug in Gryffindor''s eyes, he would not ignore him so much.

    What state was Gryffindor in? Did he really exist?

    Bryan soon had no energy to think about this question, when he flew over a certain boundary, Bryan''s face changed abruptly, and he almost turned back into human form from the shadow state. He felt a surge of nausea and dizziness that made him want to vomit.

    The magic overflowing with strong death and decay made the space viscous, Bryan felt like a stunt diver, suddenly hitting the water surface from high altitude, that nauseating and irresistible magic did not make him faint. He clenched his teeth and endured the pain that seemed to tear his soul apart.

    At this time, riding on the lion patronus, Gryffindor who was leisurely andfortable also looked slightly solemn, he raised his silver sword again, shing at the void in front of him one after another.

    There was no gorgeous spell light shing, but with his shing, the dark space became much clearer, like the floating turbidity on the water surface was cut open, revealing a crack-like, much clearerke surface, and behind him, Bryan who had a faint sense of suffocation breathed a sigh of relief, he did not dare to be careless, closely following Gryffindor''s cut ''clean''ke surface flying.

    This was too strange, wasn''t it?

    Bryan did not have much in-depth understanding of the Druid sect, but he at least knew that this sect was advocating nature, from Cliodna''s body, he could feel a natural freshness and magic full of vitality.

    But as the ancient Druid sect''snd of faith, the legendary Avalon Ind that appeared in myths and legends why would be shrouded by such strong and unpleasant death and decay?

    What secrets were hidden in Merlin''s ruins that Cliodna mentioned? Could it be that Merlin had ''turned into a corpse''?

    As they flew rapidly in the high sky, the ck dot in their sight also erged quickly. Ten minutester, Bryan could clearly see the outline of Avalon Ind. He also finally understood why this ind had the nickname of ''Apple Ind'', because from below it looked like a huge ind with a peculiar shape simr to an apple. It had a round body and a protruding stem on top. It was covered with lush green trees and flowers that contrasted with the barrennd below.

    A huge ind that floated in the high sky under an unimaginable force. It defied gravity and logic. It was a miracle of magic that Bryan had never seen before. This scene, Bryan could be sure that he would never forget it for life.

    In a trance, he remembered many years ago when Professor Snape came to his orphanage where he lived. He showed him magic in the dormitory. It was just a simple transfiguration spell that overturned Bryan''s perception of the world and shattered his worldview.

    And now, Bryan once again faced that state of mind. He felt awe and wonder mixed with fear and anxiety. He felt like he was entering a realm that he did not belong to. A realm that was beyond hisprehension and control.

    "Incredible. How did they do it¨C"

    Bryan looked at the ind above with a magical perspective. He had an illusion that one of his feet was still in the magical world. And another foot had stepped into the illusory myth!

    Of course. If he just looked at this magical masterpiece from an observer''s perspective. It would undoubtedly make Bryan feel amazed and appreciated. But when he thought that he might have an unclear rtionship with such a great relic. Bryan''s heart sank.

    He seemed to feel that invisibly. There was a terrible hand dragging him into the mud. Wanting to swallow him up. Or more urately, He had been in the quagmire for a long time. But now. The monster lurking in the quagmire finally stretched out its hideous ws to him!

    Hoo¨C

    A sudden dizziness came without warning. The world in front of Bryan shook violently. The powerful magic field around him also underwent some violent changes. In an instant. He was forced out of the shadow state by this turbulent magic environment and showed his original form. He felt a sharp pain in his head, as if someone had stabbed his brain with a needle.

    The world turned abruptly!

    The original ind above. The behemoth-like ind suddenly moved to the bottom of his feet. And the boundlesske that he stepped on when he entered this magical relic suddenly appeared above his head. Bing another piece of pure sky. It was a bizarre and surreal sight that made Bryan doubt his own senses.

    Gryffindor seemed to have expected this change, he just curled his lips and said "interesting", and then grabbed the lion''s fiery red mane with his left hand and took the lead in rushing towards the ind below, he looked calm and confident, as if he had seen through the secrets of this world.

    But Bryan encountered a lot of trouble. The chaotic magic field. The strong and evil magic around him that suddenly increased several times had a great suppression on him. He fell freely in mid-air like a free fall. He threw out several spells in a row to stop his body from falling. But they all ended in failure with the sparks from the tip of his wand! He felt helpless and desperate, as if he was falling into an abyss.

    Ridiculous. Was he going to fall to death here?!

    Bryan clenched his teeth. Looked at the ground below. Countless gray smoke rising from the bones of various magical animals that had fallen down. His eyes were hateful. He resisted the panic. And suddenly shook his wand again.

    Under Bryan''s body. The dead air suddenly became windy. The head-on hurricane constantly weakened the downward momentum. Finally, when he was still ten feet away from the ground, Bryan regained control of his body and fell into the mud with a thud.

    It was not until a few secondster that Bryan, who had a wooden head, stood up from the mud. He just nced at the scene in front of him, and was about to raise his wand to remove the mud, but his movement froze.

    Bryan had never seen the end of the world, but he believed that if there really was a day when the end of the world came, the world''s end would be nothing more than the scene in front of him!

    This ce seemed to be a lush forest before, but now it was a graveyard of life.

    Those towering trees that used to reach the sky had all broken andy horizontally under the water, leaving only some sparse and charred wood standing crookedly in the endless swamp. In front of him, countless gray smoke rose from those fallen bones of various magical animals. In his ears, filled with faint ghostly howls.

    Everything in sight was obscure and iprehensible, like the day and night transition in rainy weather, full of death and ominous magic. Invisibly, this suppressed Bryan''s mood, making him feel despair uncontrobly.

    And in this extremely horrible picture, Bryan''s heart strangely rose a trace of enlightenment, he vaguely felt that the culprit that caused this scene was probably the legendary magical item that Cliodna wanted to take out from this ind.

    ''With its power, maybe we can have a peaceful ce to live.''

    Bryan''s mind suddenly recalled what Cliodna had said to him before, he was quite skeptical at that time, but now he did not dare to have any contempt.

    "Several generations of Druid priests have entered this world many times, trying to take it out but have failed, but the divination result is that probably only I could take out that item."

    Bryan pursed his lips, his eyes drooping, whispered softly, feeling uneasy in his heart, because what was happening to him now seemed to touch on the most unknown mystery of the magical Harry Potter world.

    Gryffindor stood on the bank behind Bryan and looked at this world where death was singing and dancing with anger in his eyes.

    But as powerful as he was, he seemed helpless against this world of misery, he could only sigh softly. He felt pity and sorrow for the lost lives and beauty of thisnd. He wondered what had happened here and who had done such a terrible thing.

    Bryan turned around and looked at Gryffindor who brought him an unprecedented shock but ignored him with an inexplicable look. After a while, he suddenly raised his wand and shot a spell fiercely at Godric Gryffindor.

    Author''s Note: I have been sick since yesterday, I have the draft chapters ready but the update time may be few hours early orte.

    /FicFrenzy

 0110 Doubts & Answers

    0110 Doubts & Answers

    Whoosh¨C

    A cracked branch, covered with slimy algae and rotten leaves, floated up from the murky water. Bryan seized the opportunity and swung his arm with all his strength, hurling the branch towards the figure standing on the shore.

    The branch suddenly cut through the space filled with the breath of death, and went straight for Godric Gryffindor''s foot!

    Swoosh¨C The branch pierced through his foot like a spear and nailed it firmly into the muddy ground, but there was no trace of blood or pain left on his face.

    "So it''s still an illusion after all."

    Looking at the trembling branch and Gryffindor, who had no change in his expression, Bryan breathed a sigh of relief. It was not an easy decision to make to test one of the four founders of Hogwarts, Godric Gryffindor, with his own hands. It required a lot of courage and curiosity.

    Bryan stared quietly at this illusion that was wless and almost indistinguishable from reality. His heart was still filled with confusion and wonder. He could not find any simr precedent in any magic book, and no one could tell him what was happening. He had to rely on his own wisdom to guess; apart from that he had no other way.

    "Without a doubt, Godric Gryffindor had visited this secret ce in the long years between. His traces were recorded by the chaotic time sequence of this ce, and appeared in front of me as an illusion¨C" Bryan narrowed his eyes; his prating gaze seemed to see through the secrets left by time. He murmured in a voice that only he could hear,

    "Then what was the effect of Gryffindor shing his sword in mid-air before?" Bryan wondered. "I get it, I exist between his exploration tracks of this ce. Those ''clean cracks'' were created by Gryffindor thousands of years ago. What a formidable wizard."

    If it were Bryan himself, he might not be able to make the effect of a spellst for thousands of years. Those spells that involved ''rules'' and could run on their own by integrating with nature could indeedst for a long time, but that was outside. The magic environment here was so strange that no spell could withstand its erosion.

    "Then, did the previous generations of priests of the Druid sect also see Gryffindor''s illusion, or did they not?"

    This question, Bryan could not answer for the time being, but he had a vague feeling that perhaps Cliodna and her predecessors had never seen Gryffindor''s traces. Otherwise, they would have gone to Hogwarts for help long ago.

    "But why such a coincidence?"

    All coincidences are intentional. Bryan did not believe that it was just a simple coincidence that Gryffindor''s illusion appeared in front of him as soon as he entered this secret ce. Then, what exactly triggered this phenomenon?

    Suddenly, Bryan frowned and thought of a possibility.

    "I had a burst of magic on theke surface before. After that, Gryffindor appeared. Is he waiting for me?!"

    Although he had roughly figured out the state of Gryffindor in front of him, there were still many doubts. Why did Gryffindor look for Avalon Ind? What he muttered in his mouth - ''the stone pirs that Rowena found, Helga''s prophecy''. The four founders seemed to be nning something very important thousands of years ago.

    In addition, this ind was supposed to be a holynd of the Druid sect that revered life, but it was a scene of doom. And it was called ''the ce where Merlin rests forever'' by Cliodna. The results of the divination by Druid''s previous generation priests. Everything seemed to have something to do with him.

    While Bryan was thinking, Gryffindor, who was looking around with keen interest, seemed to have found something. He waved his hand and dispersed his silver lion patronus, which roared loudly before fading away. He turned around and walked briskly in one direction along the shore.

    Bryan did not dare to neglect and quickly got out of the mud on the shore and followed behind Gryffindor''s illusion.

    The two walked along the shore for about two minutes. Then, a simple but well-made oak boat appeared in Bryan''s sight.

    It was tied to a wooden stake by a rope and swayed gently on the water. There were some dried leaves and twigs on it, indicating that it had been here for a long time.

    At this point, Bryan had no doubt that this sky ind he was on was indeed the mythical Avalon Ind. He had read both muggle and wizard books that had clear records of Avalon''s features. It was an ind surrounded by swamps, forests and fog. And the only way to reach the center of the ind was by boat.

    For a legendary wizard like Godric Gryffindor, the evil magic that permeated death and decay on this ind could not pose much of a threat to him. He could easily fly over the swamp under the fog with his patronus just now and go directly to the center of the ind. But he chose not to do so.

    After entering the ind, Gryffindor became silent. He stared at the ind with deep and solemn eyes. In his eyes, it seemed that he was brewing some kind of determination or resolution.

    With a neat and agile leap, Gryffindor stepped onto the boat, but the draft of the oak boat did not change at all. Even the narrow hull did not sway at all.

    But when Bryan jumped on the boat, the hull suddenly sank by two feet.

    Bryan''s eyes moved slightly. This phenomenon once again confirmed Bryan''s guess. The Gryffindor who appeared here was not his real body, but an illusion created by the chaotic time sequence of this secret ce.

    Judging from the size, this boat seemed to be able to stand only one person. He stood in the center of the cabin and Bryan could only squat in the stern with his body half bent.

    Of course, Gryffindor''s current form was worse than a ghost. Bryan could directly pass through his body and sit morefortably. But out of caution, and respect for Godric Gryffindor himself, Bryan did not choose to do so.

    He looked at Gryffindor''s back with a respectful and curious look in his eyes.

    A few months ago, when Bryan was still teaching at Hogwarts, he had talked to Potter and Granger about his mysterious purple eyes one night. When he said that he had been thinking about how to fight against a wizard like Dumbledore since he was a teenager, the two little guys were shocked and incredulous.

    They probably thought it was something impossible to do.

    And Bryan thought that any powerful legend would be surpassed byter generations.

    At this moment, Bryan still thought that this idea was correct.

    But for the four founders of Hogwarts, he had to admit that they were in a different league.

    From the tip of the iceberg that Gryffindor had just shown, to be honest, Bryan had no idea how to match such a powerful wizard who could affect time and space with his magic.

    Sensing that someone had entered the cabin, the oak boat automatically sailed into the center of the swamp, smoothly without any waves, as if sailing on ice.

    Meanwhile, Bryan also became like Gryffindor, attracted by the scenery in the swamp.

    He saw many bones of magical creatures lying in the shallow water and frozen in mid-air by the fog.

    Bryan was not an expert on magical creatures, but he had seen a lot of them. He could vaguely recognize that there were many kinds of bones, such as three-headed dogs with sharp fangs, dragons with scorched scales, unicorns with broken horns, hippogrifs with torn wings, goblins with twisted faces.

    Many magical creatures were natural enemies, but they lived here peacefully thousands of years ago.

    But now, they were all deprived of their lives by the evil magic on the ind.

    At this moment, a huge humanoid skeleton gradually emerged from the faint fog.

    This skeleton seemed to belong to a giant, but it was muchrger than any giant Bryan had ever seen or heard of.

    The giants in the magical world today were only about twenty feet tall, but this skeleton was as tall as the newly built six-story dormitory building in the orphanage!

    Silently, Bryan opened his mouth wide as he looked at the skeleton that towered over him like a mountain¡­

    /FicFrenzy

 0111 Island of Death

    0111 Ind of Death

    This time, even Gryffindor''s rock-like expression showed some astonishment, along with Bryan''s. They both gazed at the huge skeleton that emerged from the misty fog. It was a colossal creature that had long been extinct, with a skull that could swallow a whole boat and ribs that arched like bridges. Its bones were draped with moss and vines, as if it had been part of the swamp for ages. It was a relic of a forgotten era, a testament to the ancient glory and tragedy of magic.

    Bryan felt that he had been stripped away from reality. The oak boat under his feet was not parading in the swamp, but wandering in the long river of time. Some ancient wizarding scenes that were older than a thousand years ago were leaking through the gaps of time. The mottled light and shadow brought great shock to Bryan''s soul. He saw shes of battles and rituals, of glory and decay, of magic and mystery. He felt like he was traveling through history, witnessing the rise and fall of civilizations.

    "The world was still intact ¡ª , the magnificent era of magic¨C" Gryffindor finally spoke again, sighing deeply. However, his unconscious murmurs made Bryan frown. What did he mean by the world was still intact in the era of magic? Was there anything missing in the present world?

    Bryan suddenly regretted that he had spent most of his time studying spell models in Professor Binns'' history of magic ss. If he had listened carefully, maybe he could understand what Gryffindor''s words meant. But this might not be the case either. The secrets of these unknown times must have been far beyond the modern wizarding history revised by modern wizards. Perhaps even in the era of the four founders, there were also secrets that only a few people knew.

    The eerie screams of the female ghosts around them disappeared, and the world fell into eternal silence. The boat carrying the two of them sailed into a deeper fog, and the visibility was very low. Bryan could only see the scenery within ten feet of his side.

    Gryffindor waved his sword again and began to sh the space in front of him, dispelling the evil breath of death in the air. Bryan didn''t know if the previous generation priests of the Druids who came here also followed Gryffindor''s traces of time to enter the center of Avalon Ind. If not, Bryan didn''t know how much price they had to pay to get here step by step.

    If Bryan broke in alone without any external help, he would not be able to get here without a few days. It was also thanks to Cliodna that woman who thought so highly of him and thought he could deal with the dangers in the ruins.

    Just then, many fist-sized yellow lights suddenly appeared in the misty fog, likenterns hanging in mid-air, swaying slightly.

    Bryan was suddenly alert. Since he entered this ind, he hadn''t seen anything that could move except Gryffindor! Unconsciously, he stood up from his half-squatting position, stepped on the hull of the oak boat with one foot, and leaned out half of his body over the mirror-like calm water.

    The frequency of those nterns'' swaying gradually increased. Hundreds of yellow light clusters emitted mysterious magic. Bryan vaguely sensed something wrong, because he felt a strong charm from the magic. And when he was about to forcibly ''break off'' his gaze and withdraw his body, those light clusters suddenly brightened up like they were stimted by something. Bryan felt dizzy and lost his bnce and fell into theke.

    Boom!

    As if a drop of water fell into a boiling oil pan, the calmke and fog above it boiled like boiling water. The world shook suddenly!

    What a shame! At that moment when his body lost bnce, Bryan knew that he had been tricked. At the same time, he also guessed what those nterns'' were. They were a group of Hinkypunks who liked to live in swamps and confuse wizards.

    Because they were in a special state between illusion and reality, they escaped death by luck and identally gained several times stronger under the influence of death and decay magic. As a powerful wizard, Bryan was also agile. He only took less than three seconds to fall into the water and turn over to get back on board. But the shaking world still couldn''t calm down, but became more and more intense!

    "Mr. Gryffindor¨C" Bryan looked at the bones around him that had been sleeping in death but awakened by his stimtion, and said jokingly, "Do you have any way to make this boat go faster? I seem to have caused some trouble!"

    Godric Gryffindor ignored the bones that had been sleeping in death but awakened by Bryan''s stimtion. This was natural, because he did not exist in this time and space and could not give Bryan any help at all!

    Ssh!

    The world that had been silent for eternity suddenly stirred up a strong wind that made waves on the shallowke. The fog around them also quickly dispersed in the strong wind. In addition to those skeletons of Cerberus, dragons, and flying hipogriffs, the huge skeleton of a titan-like giant also stood uppletely. The hollow eye sockets stared at Bryan urately. What this army of undead was going to do next was self-evident.

    "If Thanatos saw you, I''m afraid he would drool¨C"

    Bryan used jokes to suppress the horror in his heart. The magic that gushed out of his body made his wizarding robe swell. Hisvender pupils shot out a solemn and sharp look.

    Roar!

    The giant skeleton roared and shook the sky. The raging waves wrapped in ominous magic rushed wildly. Even the ''purend'' created by Gryffindor was polluted. Bryan was once again suppressed by the evil death breath that filled this ce. The fire dragon swooped down from the air, the Cerberus shook its ferocious heads, and bared its teeth and ran on the waves. In an instant, Bryan was surrounded!

    And just when the first bone dragon approached the oak boat within a hundred feet, Bryan swung his wand vigorously. With a sharp scream, a giant water snake as tall as a giant stood up from the rolling waves. A tail swing that weighed like ten thousand catties directly smashed those ''small'' fire dragons and Cerberus into bone dust, sshing all over the sky.

    In the sparse scorched forest, two huge creatures stared at each other across a negligible distance. What lingered around them was an indescribable killing!

    Boom!

    A strong shock wave like a meteor hitting the ground swept across, overturning everything in sight. The giant skeleton grabbed the head of the water snake transformed by Bryan with one hand, and closed its hard bones. With a snap, it directly crushed the water snake''s head.

    Bryan''s face didn''t change. He continued to circle his wand, and those sshes in mid-air reassembled into the water snake''s head. At the same time, the huge snake body rose up and wrapped around the giant skeleton''s body, trying to strangle it!

    Huh-¡ª¡ª

    The scene of two epic-like powerful magical creatures fighting in the most direct way could bring an unparalleled impact to the soul. Bryan stood in the white barrier that protected the oak boat, his gray hair flying, his cheeks flushed, and an unprecedented excitement was washing his soul!

    "Let me see your skills, big guy!" Bryan''s eyes were bright, and he shouted excitedly. Then, the tip of his ebony wand spewed out magic fire. The golden me ignited theke water and dyed the gray sky gold. In a few moments, another mountain-like golden me giant snake descended on the world. The roar it made caused some ripples in space.

    Two giant snakes like earthly pythons wrapped around the giant skeleton''s arms with their heads, and their bodies coiled around the huge bones and tightened with all their strength.

    The rumbling sound like the earth copsing was endless, and the sound of steel twisting in the air was shocking!

    The giant skeleton roared again and again, but no matter how many times it crushed the heads of the water and fire snakes, Bryan would repair them in time and continue to fight with it. To be honest, since he studied at Hogwarts, he had fought with that ck witch in the Forbidden Forest until now. This was the first time that Bryan showed all his strength in such a rough way.

    The boat was still moving forward. Not far away, a magnificent temple finally showed a vague outline¡ª¡ª

    /FicFrenzy

 0112 Temples and Murals

    0112 Temples and Murals

    Thump, thump, thump¨C

    The sound of his heart echoed in his ears as he surveyed the aftermath of the devastating battle that had ravaged thend. The once lush and verdant ind was now a barren and deste wastnd, littered with corpses and debris.

    Bryan jumped off the oak boat that had carried him across the treacherous waters and stood on the shore, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He felt a surge of exhaustion and pain from his wounds, but he ignored them and reached for his backpack. He took out a few bottles of magic potions and drank them wildly, not caring about the taste or the cost. The precious potions worth thousands of galleons were swallowed into his stomach, replenishing his depleted magic and healing his injuries. Bryan smacked his lips, with a look of dissatisfaction.

    He wished he had more potions, but he knew he had to save some forter. The moment he stepped on thend, the bones that were still moving in the swamp immediatelyy low, as if sensing his presence and power. They dared not to challenge him, for they knew he was a formidable foe. Bryan had fought his way through countless enemies, using his wand and his wits to survive. He had seen things that would make most people lose their sanity, but he had persevered. As if it was a trial, and Bryan passed the test with his strength.

    ng¨Chuh.

    He casually threw away a few empty bottles, looking at the swamp that was almost plowed over by his spells and footsteps. Bryan let out a sigh of relief. He had finally reached his destination, but he knew that the hardest part was yet toe. However, when he checked the amount of his mana level, he showed a bitter smile.

    "It was indeed enjoyable, but I hope there won''t be any more trouble in the future¨C"

    As he said that, Bryan gave a kick to an ugly one-legged creature lying at his feet, which was bound by magic ropes. It was a Hinkypunk, a creature that usually appeared as a flickering light in dark ces, luring travelers into bogs and marshes.

    But these Hinkypunks had developed real bodies under the nourishment of the thick evil magic on the ind. This situation was very special and rare, so Bryan took one that was not affected by the battle just now and nned to take it out for a good study. He hoped to find out more about the secrets of this ind and its inhabitants.

    He stored the special Hinkypunk away in a magical cage, turned around and saw that Gryffindor had walked up a gentle slope along a path covered with withered thorns and vines.The founder of Hogwarts was wearing his signature red cloak and silver armor, holding his sword. He looked majestic and heroic, but also solemn and grim. He was standing on the high ground and looking at the temple not far away with a determined gaze.

    Seeing this, Bryan did not dy, and ran after him. Although he was just a phantom recorded by the chaotic time and magic, Bryan felt inexplicably at ease following him. Perhaps, Godric Gryffindor was such a man who had a ''sense of security''. He radiated confidence and courage, inspiring others to follow him into danger.

    In the center of the ind, a huge and magnificent temple that exuded historical breath stood silently there, not knowing how many years it had existed. It was surrounded by a circle of stone pirs that formed a protective barrier against intruders. The temple was the heart of the ind, where its secrets and mysteries were hidden.

    Staring at the temple, Bryan''s eyshes trembled, showing some confusion.

    Sitting on the steps, the rectangr temple was built entirely of white marble. The huge building was supported by nearly a hundred giant marble pirs that were carved with intricate patterns and symbols. The walls that formed the main body of the building were dpidated and many ces had even copsed intorge holes, revealing glimpses of whaty inside. The roof was adorned with statues of gods and goddesses, but some of them were broken or missing.

    This was a typical ancient Greek-style temple, and Bryan''s confusion came from this.

    As the holynd of the ancient Druid sect, how could there be such an irrelevant Greek temple in the center of the mysterious Avalon Ind? This was as strange as Hogwarts Castle turning into a Vampire Castle. It was simply unreasonable. Bryan thought he would see a wooden pce built on a huge oak tree here.

    "Is Cliodna there?"

    Bryan''s gaze passed over Gryffindor''s sturdy body and looked at the temple. He vaguely felt where her magic was. After a short thought, Bryan waved his wand to cover his breath and hide his figure. Before meeting Cliodna, Bryan wanted to explore with Gryffindor, to see what else the temple had to offer.

    Surprisingly, the decay and death atmosphere that filled the space around the temple in the center of the ind was not as heavy as Bryan expected. It seemed that there was some strange power suppressing that thing.

    The two resumed their steps, but they hadn''t walked far before Bryan suddenly stopped and looked ahead with a serious expression. In his sight, many figures ovepped continuously in front of him, creating a blurry and distorted image. He was familiar with this figure because it was his own back. He realized that he was seeing himself from different points in time, as if he had been here before or would be here again.

    "¨CThe chaos of time here has suddenly increased by many levels. Hmm., it should be caused by two powerful magics counteracting and interfering with each other. Tsk tsk, an unheard-of wonder¨C"

    Bryan resumed his steps again, but as he approached the temple, strange phenomena happened again.

    Gryffindor was not affected at all. His trajectory towards the temple was a straight line. He walked steadily and calmly, as if he knew what he was doing. But Bryan who followed behind him seemed to be constantly using phantom shift, a spell that allowed him to teleport short distances. One second he was behind Gryffindor, and the next moment he shed directly to the front. Then he ''floated'' above Gryffindor''s head, as if gravity had no hold on him.

    Without much thought, Bryan knew that this space had been twisted and misced by the chaotic magic. Fortunately, this discement was still continuous and predictable. If there were spatial gaps, it was very likely that one step out would result in Bryan''s foot being cut into two pieces, or worse, being trapped in a void of nothingness.

    The many bizarre phenomena caused by magic here, if studied separately, could definitely write a few papers that would shock the magical world. But after seeing a lot, Bryan''s nerves also became tough. After all, this was the nd of myths'', where anything was possible.

    Gryffindor did not go to the steps of the temple entrance, but stopped at arge hole in the side wall of the temple, staring at the space inside the temple.

    Bryan also ''struggled'' to his side, nced at the temple a few times, and did not marvel at the magnificent temple supported by those magnificent pirs. Instead, he frowned at the jagged corners of the wall that were broken and rotten.

    He left Gryffindor and walked forward alone, squatting on the ground and digging up the loose soil with his palm. He soon made a small pit, revealing ayer of hard rock underneath.

    "Sure enough, this temple is not the original building of Avalon Ind, but the whole temple was forcibly lifted and moved here¨C"

    Such a huge and magnificent building, if it really belonged to Avalon Ind, then when it was built, the builders would not have failed to build a foundation. In addition, the traces of broken corners around the temple that touched the ground, Bryan was sure that this temple was moved from somewhere else.

    "Is this still the magical world of Harry Potter?"

    Bryan shook his head, his expression solemn.

    He wondered if Avalon Ind was really as Cliodna had imed: the ce where Merlin rested forever. If that was true, then everything he saw before him, including the temple, the many wonders on the ind, and even the ind itself floating in the sky, must have been Merlin''s creation.

    "Did Merlin ascend to godhood? How far can the wizards of that era go?"

    Bryan asked in awe. He lived in the modern magical world, where he could not imagine the glory of the ancient times when wizards ruled thend and were revered as gods by muggles.

    "Magic has a gap. Some extremely important events have been forgotten. Or deliberately erased."

    Bryan muttered softly. He had this guess not only because of what he witnessed along the way, but also because of Gryffindor''s casual remark:

    ''The world was still intact, a magnificent era of magic!''

    As he looked at everything around him that seemed like a miracle, Bryan suddenly thought of what Voldemort had done when he was alive, and felt a surge of disgust.

    Voldemort was obsessed with power; he craved others'' fear; he sought immortality; no wonder he had great strength, but Albus Dumbledore always regarded him with disdain.

    Voldemort did make a lot of efforts to ensure that he would not die, but those efforts were nothing but holes he dug for himself. His path of magic had been severed long ago. He never understood the true meaning of magic: love, creativity, wisdom¡­

    Bryan suppressed his contempt for Voldemort and followed Gryffindor into the temple.

    His eyes swept around, and saw that inside was even more dpidated than outside. The walls and pirs were cracked and crumbling, the floor was covered with dust and debris, the ceiling was missing in some ces, letting in the sunlight and the wind. Time and space were still as chaotic as outside. Bryan felt dizzy and nauseous as he moved through the distorted dimensions. There was only one thing that surprised Bryan. The magic inside the temple was very ''pure'', without any trace of evil from outside. It seemed to have been purified.

    Gryffindor who entered here behaved a little abnormally. ording tomon sense, anyone who explored this temple for the first time should go to the hall where Cliodna''s magic was. But he did not do so. Instead, he looked solemn and stepped over a pile of rubble, passed through a cracked wall, elerated his pace, and went in a clear direction.

    Bryan only hesitated for a very short time before following him again. Compared with the woman in the hall, Bryan who graduated from Hogwarts obviously trusted Godric Gryffindor more.

    The two crossed the temple and passed many rooms along the way. The ashes and wooden shelves that were smashed into pieces should be libraries. The rooms with many bones and rotten equipment that could not be distinguished seemed to be where wizards did research. In addition, there were some rooms for daily life. It seemed that this ce used to be someone''s residence.

    Gryffindor''s speed was very urgent. Bryan who was restricted by chaotic time and space had to run all the way to keep up. He felt his magic fluctuate and his vision blur as he moved through the distorted dimensions. Twenty minutester, they stopped in front of a huge stone wall with a dark color after crossing many obstacles.

    Godric Gryffindor was a person from a thousand years ago, and this temple was undoubtedly built in an even more ancient era. After being ravaged by time and magic anomalies, almost nothing inside the temple remained intact, including the main body of the building. But this huge stone wall that stood abruptly among a pile of rubble in front of them was intact as before. And it didn''t even have any dust on it. It looked like it had been polished recently, reflecting the light and the shadows.

    "Is this the battle¨C"

    Gryffindor stared at the stone wall with interest, and the words he blurted out unexpectedly made Bryan, who was puzzled by why the stone wall was not damaged,e back to his senses. He also raised his head and focused his attention on the wide stone wall. The carved lines were rough, like primitive people recording things on the cave wall. But they also had a certain artistic sense, conveying emotions and stories.

    The first scroll on the far right of the stone wall seemed to record a piece ofnd with undting mountains, ancient city-states andkes. This seemed to be a simplendscape scroll, but what puzzled Bryan was that at the top of the stone wall, far away from thend in the scroll, there was an irregr closed figure filled with many chaotic lines that seemed to represent ''wind''. It looked like the outline of a jellyfish swimming in water.

    Bryan frowned and stared at the pattern that was neither ''sun'' nor ''cloud'', and looked gloomy. He was a little confused, but he also felt vaguely that it was very important. He wondered what it meant, and why it was ced above thend.

    He was curious and walked quickly to the second mural. He stepped back a few steps and looked up. He found that at the top of the stone wall, there was still that ''jellyfish'', but the situation on the ground had changed dramatically.

    On the vastnd, a tense confrontation was taking ce.

    One side of the confrontation was a warrior riding a tall unicorn, with a cape behind him that showed his heroic spirit. He held a sword with a gorgeous shape and looked coldly at the sky. From those simple lines, Bryan could feel the king''s aura around this warrior like a war god.

    Behind the warrior was an endless and huge muggle army. They were led by twelve knights who were also heroic. They wore armor and helmets, carried shields and spears, and rode horses or dragons. The whole army stood silently like iron, exuding an oppressive atmosphere.

    The other side of the confrontation had only one person. She hid under arge ck robe that covered her whole body except for her hands and feet. Bryan guessed from her slender wrist exposed outside the ck robe and holding a strange wand that she was a woman.

    She stood alone on a high tform surrounded by mes, looking down at her enemies with contempt. Behind her were countless dark creatures: giants, trolls, werewolves, vampires, dementors¡­ They roared and howled, eager to join the battle.

    About the two sides of the confrontation, Bryan had some guesses, but he did not say a word. He silently went to the third mural.

    The magnificent and extremely tragic war began. The forest was leveled, cracks were everywhere on the ground, andkes as vast as oceans evaporated. On arge piece of stone wall representing the sky, there were many cracks carved, as if space was also torn apart by the fierce magic shes.

    This third mural was still clear, but Bryan frowned.

    "Can muggle warriors and knights have the ability topete with such legendary wizards?"

    Bryan wondered in his heart, but then he suddenly nced at Gryffindor who wore a silver sword and was also watching the mural. His doubts were somewhat relieved.

    He realized that the warrior in the mural must be King Arthur himself, and the twelve knights behind him must be his loyalpanions, the Knights of the Round Table.

    The fourth mural recorded the result of this battle. The witch did not seem to have changed much. She still floated in mid-air, looking indifferently at thend where blood flowed everywhere and muggle limbs were everywhere. She seemed to have no emotion, no fear, no regret, no joy. She was like a cold machine, executing without hesitation.

    On the ground, only one warrior stood with his sword, and his cloak that was torn but still fluttering behind him vaguely showed his perseverance. He was covered with wounds and dirt, but he did not fall. He was like a lone hero, facing the overwhelming enemy with courage and dignity.

    Bryan who was immersed in that war unknowingly walked to the center of the stone wall.

    In the fifth mural, the warrior''s mount became a winged horse. He rode it with a desperate and tragic determination towards the witch. He knew that he had no chance of winning, but he still chose to fight for his people and hisnd. He was willing to sacrifice himself for a greater cause.

    Because she had summoned an ind that was almost squeezed into the entire stone wall, huge beyond measure. The direction of her gaze was the city-state in the far distance. It was Camelot, the capital of King Arthur''s kingdom. She wanted to destroy it, along with everything that King Arthur had built.

    "Avalon Ind"

    Bryan squinted his eyes and gave his judgment. Before, when he followed Gryffindor flying to the ind, he had seen its outline below. It was easy to recognize.

    In this mural, there was another very important detail. At its junction with the sixth mural, there appeared an old wizard with flying beard and hair, whose figure resembled Dumbledore somewhat. He was rushing to the battlefield at high speed. He wore a long robe and a pointed hat, and held a staff that emitted a bright light. He looked wise and powerful.

    "Merlin."

    Bryan pursed his lips and muttered. There is a small square in the depths of Knockturn Alley. There stands a white marble statue of Merlin on it. This statue is also the entrance to the underground world located in London. Bryan often enters and exits from here. He is very familiar with Merlin''s appearance.

    There is no doubt that the sixth mural depicts Merlin and King Arthur fighting against that witch together.

    The earth turned upside down, magma surged from deep underground to skyward. The air was filled with fire and smoke, lightning and thunder. The three figures in the mural were blurred by the chaos, but their magic beams were clearly visible: red for King Arthur, blue for Merlin, and green for the witch. Bryan felt as if he had witnessed a ''god war'' lost in time!

    In this mural, there was also something that Bryan cared very much about.

    In the previous five murals, the ''jellyfish'' at the top of the stone wall stayed in the same position without moving. But in the sixth one, the outline of the ''jellyfish'' seemed to be shaking violently. About a tenth of its area had already detached from the stone wall and disappeared! It looked like it was breaking apart and falling down.

    The seventh mural recorded something that made Bryan extremely astonished and made Gryffindor''s eyes fierce.

    Under the joint efforts of Merlin and King Arthur, that witch had already been defeated. She fell from the sky to Avalon Ind, which had returned to the ground. Shey motionless on the grass, her ck robe torn and her wand broken. But there was a vague figure that looked very much like the one that Bryan had seen in the underground world. The old wizard who was fooled (in Ch-1) and died before changing into a grim reaper-like shadow, simr shadow emerged from her body!

    In the penultimate mural, the ''jellyfish'' that continued to detach from the stone wall hadpletely disappeared. What also disappeared was that witch. She held a strange staff in her hand by the ''grim reaper'' who was also defeated. And this grim reaper was making a throwing motion, as if he wanted to throw away the staff in his hand!

    /FicFrenzy

 0113 Mysterious Domain

    0113 Mysterious Domain

    Bryan felt a surge of emotions as he witnessed the amazing ''god war'' recorded on the stone wall. The murals depicted the epic struggle between the three powerful wizards and the mysterious witch who wielded the power of death.

    Bryan could not help but empathize with their pain, fear, and courage as he followed their fates through the images. He felt a pang of sadness when he saw the final mural, where the ''death god'' and the brave warrior who fought her with his sword were both gone.

    Bryan guessed that they had sacrificed their lives in this battle, leaving behind only Merlin, who stood alone in front of the temple where Bryan was now. Merlin''s eyes were fixed on the ''jellyfish'' that had gradually faded away since the sixth mural, indicating that something had left the earth after the war. Bryan could sense the heaviness and destion that surrounded Merlin, even from the simple line drawings. He wondered what Merlin was thinking and feeling at that moment.

    Bryan stood in front of the tall stone wall for a long time, silent and thoughtful. He remembered Gryffindor''s words when he first entered this secret realm: ''the world is still intact''. He looked at Gryffindor, who was also staring at Merlin''s lonely figure with a solemn expression on his square face. Bryan felt a surge of curiosity and asked softly,

    "Is this what you meant by ''the world is still intact'', Mr. Gryffindor?"

    Bryan probably understood that a long time ago, there seemed to be something on the earth, and the serious chain reaction caused by that war made that thing leave the earth.

    He thought about the decline of the wizarding world for one or two thousand years, and how the wizards who were once revered as gods by the Muggles fell into a miserable situation where they had to hide from their enemies and fear for their lives. Bryan had reason to believe that that thing was very important to all wizards, and perhaps to all living beings.

    The murals did not exin anything about the witch or the ''death god'' who fought against Merlin and his allies. Who was she, and what was her motive? What was her fate after she was defeated? Did Merlin kill her, or did she escape? And what about Merlin himself? Where did he go after this battle? Did he stay in this temple, which was hisst refuge? Did he move Avalon Ind to this hidden space and live alone until he died of old age or loneliness?

    "Something must have happenedter, right, Mr. Gryffindor?"

    Bryan shook his head slightly and turned his gaze to Gryffindor, who seemed to know more than he let on. He had this guess for a simple reason. Gryffindor had not entered this secret realm by ident. A thousand years ago, he and the other three founders of Hogwarts must have discovered some incredible secrets and nned something together.

    Bryan recalled that when he entered this secret realm, his magic triggered Gryffindor''s phantom that was left in the chaotic time sequence. The phantom appeared as if it expected him to be here, implying that their n had something to do with him.

    On the other side, Cliodna''s teacher, the prophecy of the previous generation priest of Druidism also involved him in this mystery. Bryan frowned tightly. He felt a strong sense of danger from the conspiracy that shrouded him.

    He tried to guess the identity of the witch in the mural. He searched his memory for any clues from Muggle mythology, wizarding books, or Druidic lore. He noticed that she had summoned Avalon Ind, which suggested that she had a close connection with Druidism. He also remembered that she had used a dark magic that resembled necromancy, which made her an enemy of life itself. He locked in a name in his heart: Morgan le Fay.

    Morgan le Fay was a legendary dark witch who was also known as Morgana or Morgaine. She was said to be the queen of Avalon Ind and a powerful enchantress who practiced dark arts. She was an adversary of Merlin and King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table, who represented justice and light. She was often portrayed as a goddess of darkness and death in ancient tales.

    Bryan vaguely remembered that he had read in a magic book that some people believed that an evil soul was attached to Morgan le Fay, influencing her actions and making her more wicked. When he saw this before, Bryan thought it was nonsense, but now he realized that it might not bepletely unfounded.

    Gryffindor ignored Bryan who was lost in his thoughts. He had already digested the content of the murals and decided on his next move. He simply turned around and used his silver sword to easily split open the broken wall that blocked his way. He walked towards a direction with a clear purpose: the front hall of the temple, which was exactly where Cliodna was waiting for Bryan.

    Bryan felt a surge of disbelief and fear as he saw the scene in front of him. He had to bite his tongue hard to suppress his doubts and calm his nerves. He took a deep breath and followed Gryffindor quickly, hoping that the legendary wizard knew what he was doing. This bizarre secret realm trip was nearing its end, and Bryan had no intention of dying here.

    On the way forward, Bryan took out several bottles of magic recovery potion from his pocket and drank them wildly.

    He felt the liquid burning his throat and filling his body with a tingling sensation. His physical ability to amodate and convert magic was limited. Drinking magic recovery potion so violently brought Bryan a lot of pain, but he clenched his teeth and tried his best to ''digest'' the magic in the potion and store it in his ''magic organ''. He knew that he would need every bit of magic he could muster for the uing confrontation. Because he had already prepared to ''meet frankly'' with that woman, Cliodna, who had lured him into this ''trap''.

    Two people came to the wall behind the hall, where a small door was hidden. They could enter the front hall of the temple through that door. But, Gryffindor and Bryan almost stopped at the same time, as if they had hit an invisible wall.

    "Chaotic Time Domain¨C"

    Staring at a few steps away, a spherical blurred space that prated through the wall, Bryan''s eyes showed a strong dread. He could feel the distortion of time and space emanating from the sphere, as if it was tearing apart the fabric of reality.

    He guessed that the hall of the temple, behind the wall in front of him, probably contained the ''holy relic'' that Cliodna and many modern priests of the Druid religion dreamed of taking back. At the same time, he also understood why they had not been able to do so for so many centuries. The chaotic time domain was a formidable barrier that no ordinary wizard could cross.

    Bryan looked at a stone next to his foot, lightly touched it with his wand, and made it levitate. He then flicked his wand and sent the stone flying into the blurred, twisted, bubble-like time domain.

    Rustle

    The stone that only entered the dangerous domain by five feet seemed to have gone through thousands of years in the blink of an eye, and turned into countless dust particles. And those dust particles did not float to the ground, but froze in mid-air. After a few breaths, the color gradually faded until they disappearedpletely!

    Bryan''s eyes twitched madly, and he had an urge to curse.

    What a joke?!

    Did the previous generation priests of the Druid religion make a mistake in divination when they offered sacrifices, or did that woman Cliodna have a problem with her brain that caused her to misjudge his ability?

    The power of time was not to be touched. Such a dangerous domain, since they had seen it, why did they think he had the ability to break through it?

    Indeed, Godric Gryffindor might have this ability, but Bryan was not confused. The one in front of him was just an illusion recorded by the chaotic time sequence that enveloped Avalon Ind. Even if Gryffindor broke through the time barrier a thousand years ago, but after a thousand years, this barrier had been repaired. He would not be stupid enough to hit his head on it and end up with nothing left!

    Since he was sure that he didn''t have the ability to break through the time domain, Bryan didn''t hesitate for long. He turned around and wanted to leave. The main door of the hall should be normal. Otherwise, Cliodna wouldn''t be able to enter the temple. He nned to change his direction and enter the front hall. There, he would first beat up that woman badly, and then interrogate her well.

    As for Gryffindor''s next move, Bryan had also anticipated it. He might be like himself, unable to break through the domain, or he might really defy the power of time and enter the domain.

    But the final result should be that he didn''t get anything from it. This was certain. Otherwise, why would those guys from the Druid religion still be obsessed with this ce for so many centuries?

    "Don''t be afraid, follow me."

    And just as Bryan turned around and was about to leave, a slightly solemn voice from behind made Bryan''s pupils tremble violently. His whole body stiffened!

    /FicFrenzy

 0114 The Staff and The Sword (Part-1)

    0114 The Staff and The Sword (Part-1)

    Bryan suddenly turned his head, staring at Godric Gryffindor, who raised his silver sword and faced the time domain, with an incredible look. His heart was pounding wildly and every cell in his body was trembling! How could it be, did he just hear a hallucination?! He felt a chill run down his spine as he realized that the voice he heard was not his own, but Gryffindor''s!

    Bryan looked around with a frightened look, scanning every inch of the slightly dim temple, but after a few rounds of inspection, he found no trace of any hidden wizards. In the dpidated room, apart from him and Gryffindor, there was no one else. No one else who could have spoken to him in such a familiar and intimate tone.

    "Did you just talk to me, Mr. Gryffindor?"

    He asked in a shaky voice, hoping for an answer that would dispel his confusion. But to Bryan''s dismay, Godric Gryffindor, who had shattered his worldview, suddenly returned to his previous appearance, ignoring Bryan''s repeated calls, but holding the sword hilt with both hands, raising the silver sword and not moving, as if observing the time domain in front of him with great concentration.

    "What''s going on?"

    Bryan muttered breathlessly, "Could it be that Gryffindor was apanied by someone a thousand years ago, and he was just talking to hispanion? But the person''s strength is far inferior to Gryffindor''s, and not enough to interfere with the sequence. No, along the way, Gryffindor never had a conversation with anyone, it can''t be like this."

    Bryan''s current knowledge base was already unable toe up with a reasonable exnation. He stared nkly at Gryffindor''s back and suddenly felt at a loss. He felt like he had stumbled into a mystery that was beyond hisprehension.

    Swish! Just as he hesitated, the silver sword in Gryffindor''s hand suddenly bloomed with light. The straight and sharp silver sword body was wrapped by a transparent, water-like magic force. It was a strange power that Bryan could not understand, but even across the river of time, it still gave him a feeling of horror. It was like a force that could cut through anything in existence.

    For Gryffindor, dealing with such a strong time turbulence was still not an easy and casual thing. It was like cutting meat with a blunt knife, or cutting wood with a rusty saw with serrated teeth. The sword body moved slowly and hard. The effort made Bryan hold his breath!

    But anyway, Gryffindor really cut out a few feet of ''clear space'' in the distorted and blurred space. Then he stepped into the edge of the area that was originally covered by the time domain and raised his long sword again.

    And in Bryan''s vision, when Gryffindor stepped into the time domain, the Gryffindor that had existed since entering the secret realm disappeared. Only he was left alone, looking at the suddenly ''t'' area in a daze.

    "Is it Gryffindor who appeared in the modern wizarding world, or did I unknowingly go back to a thousand years ago?"

    Neither situation is possible. This is just Bryan''s random guess in extreme astonishment.

    Then should he follow in or not?

    For such an iprehensible and dangerous situation, as a ''qualified Slytherin'', he should not try it easily. But if he only cares about risk, then Bryan might as well stay at Hogwarts and teach under Dumbledore''s eyelids!

    Bryan''s hesitation in his eyes dissipated. A firmness emerged from his light purple eyes. He clenched his teeth and stood in Gryffindor''s position. He took a deep breath and stepped into the time domain.

    Huh! It was like being thrown onto a high-speed train from a stationary state. The sudden dizziness almost made him fall into the dangerous chaos on both sides.

    Gryffindor reappeared in his sight. But it was not a solitary back figure. It was like when he approached the temple before. Bryan was in the same state as ovepping forward figures.

    Bryan turned his gaze to the narrow clear space on both sides. The chaotic sequence like an abyss. He thought for a while and reached into it with his hem. The result was like that stone. It made him sweat coldly.

    When passing through the barrier, all the sights outside were covered up. And every second of time passing by was as long as a whole year. Bryan dared not be careless. Because being careless would result in turning into dust and disappearing into nothingness.

    He didn''t know how long it took. Gryffindor disappeared from sight again. For this, Bryan didn''t feel nervous. His uneasy heart calmed down a lot instead. Because he inferred that Gryffindor had broken through the barrier of time and entered the inner space.

    The space where the ultimate secret of the Druids was hidden. Another dizzy spell like the world spinning around. Waiting for the world to clear up. Bryan who suppressed the fainting feeling suddenly realized that he had passed through that small door covered by the time domain and stood in the simple and empty but magnificent temple hall.

    He felt a surge of awe and curiosity as he looked around the ancient and mysterious ce. He saw Cliodna standing at the door of the temple, looking at the direction of the swamp that was covered by the fog again with a worried look. Bryan thought for a while. It should be his own movement that attracted her attention before. But trapped by the chaotic space, she didn''t dare to leave easily.

    Bryan was in the range of the time barrier. His magic and figure were perfectly hidden. Cliodna didn''t notice that the Bryan she was waiting for had quietly entered the temple. And he was only one step away from the ''holy artifact'' that Druids had been dreaming of for centuries!

    In the center of the circr altar built of gray rocks, there was a staff with a strange shape. The staff stood upright. The endless ''death and decay'' was being poured into the earth from its tail end embedded in the altar. And this was also the culprit that turned the original vibrant Druid holynd - Avalon Road into the end of the world like a barrennd!

    Even if Bryan had never seen it, but when his eyes fell on it for a moment, he knew its name.

    Caduceus, the staff of Hermes, the messenger of Greek mythology. And it was only a few steps away from him!

    Gurgle¡ª¡ª

    Like a vast ocean, but also exuding a hellish breath, Bryan''s heart beat wildly, swallowing saliva unconsciously.

    If there really are ''artifacts'' in Harry Potter''s magical world, then there is no doubt that Caduceus is one of them. His eyes were attracted by the two intertwined ck pythons on a golden staff. He had forgotten to think about why this ''artifact'' appeared in Morgan Le Fay''s hands inexplicably, and how it became the ''holy artifact'' of the Druid sect!

    "Wow, interesting staff!"

    Compared to Bryan''s dullness, Gryffindor looked calm with a smile. He walked onto the altar and circled around Caduceus. He examined it with curiosity and admiration, as if he had found a new toy.

    "I think Szar will love you very much!"

    After saying this sentence, Gryffindor suddenly reached out to Caduceus. It seemed that he wanted to take this staff back and give it to his best friend.

    But at the moment he heard this sentence, Bryan''s body trembled violently.

    He stared at the two ck pythons with wide eyes. The more he looked at them, the more familiar they became. The more he looked at them, the more shocked he became. In the end, he was almost sure of his discovery-those two things wrapped around the golden staff were not pythons at all, but two miniaturized Basilisks!

    Bryan had just dealt with a very real Basilisk a few months ago, in Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets! He still remembered its terrifying gaze that could petrify or kill anyone who met its eyes, and its venomous fangs that could destroy any magic.

    Thinking of the Chamber of Secrets, Bryan suddenly clenched his wand and moved his dry lips.

    "Could it be that Slytherin built the Chamber of Secrets to cultivate Basilisks and study Caduceus? It wasn''t to deal with those little wizards with muggle blood!"

    He whispered in disbelief, as if he had uncovered a shocking truth that had been hidden for centuries.

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0115 The Staff and The Sword (Part-2)

    0115 The Staff and The Sword (Part-2)

    The breadth of one''s mind determines how much of the world one can see.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Ever since Bryan heard about the legend of Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets from one of his housemates at Hogwarts, he had been haunted by this question:

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    ''Why did Szar Slytherin, who might have been the most formidable and enigmatic of the four founders, have such a prejudiced mind that he built a hidden chamber to ughter the muggle-born or half-blood wizards who came to Hogwarts inter generations?''

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    ''Was it his belief to uphold the purity of blood that drove him forward on the noble path of magic?''

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    This doubtsted until a few months ago, when Bryan witnessed the innermost secrets of Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets with his own eyes. He finally had a clue to believe that Szar Slytherin''s purpose of building the chamber was probably not that simple.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    And the Twin Serpent Staff in front of him, which radiated a breath that made his heart flutter, further proved this point. Although Bryan still couldn''t figure out what was hidden behind the mysterious door in the cave, it was obvious that Slytherin''s purpose of leaving the basilisk in the outer chamber was not as ''simple'' as the rumors said.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Bang! The sudden explosion jolted Bryan, who was engrossed in his guesses. He looked up and saw that the Twin Serpent Staff, which had been dormant, burst out a ball of gray sma at the moment when Gryffindor''s palm approached it, and also apanied by a strong repulsive force. Gryffindor, whose palm was scorched, was flung back several steps and almost fell out of the altar.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "As Rowena said, the indestructible Twin Serpent Staff only obeys its own master¨C"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor, who was frustrated, shook his hand with a grin on his handsome face.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "It''s worthy of being the ancestor of those troublesome brats from Gryffindor¨C" Seeing this scene, Bryan''s face darkened.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "It seems that I can''t bring you a gift, Szar¨C"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor blew on his smoking palm and said regretfully. Then he shifted his gaze and focused on the edge of the altar, where a sword with a golden hilt and a glittering de was inserted on the steps.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "The brave and fearless king of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon''s sword¨CExcalibur!"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor put down his obsession with bringing a gift to his friend. He walked over to the sword and squatted down. His eyes sparkled with awe.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "An admirable warrior, what a pity¨C" Gryffindor said with regret,

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "If you and I lived in the same era, we would be each other''s strongest opponents and most cherished friends."

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Buzz¨C

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    As soon as Gryffindor''s words fell, the Sword of Gryffindor, which had suppressed the power of the twin snake wand for centuries with faith and courage, suddenly trembled violently, as if eager to break free from the earth!

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "Do you want to follow me?"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor seemed to understand the humming of the sword, he looked surprised, but then he said with a smile,

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "Indeed, a sword like you should appear on the battlefield, rather than in this dark and silent world forever, but. your mission"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor looked at the twin snake wand, which still released a deathly aura that withered everything even under the pressure of the Sword of Gryffindor and Merlin''s magic, and showed some hesitation.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "No way"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor had not made a decision yet, but Bryan, who was watching this scene from the side, had a subtle change in his expression. He looked at the silver sword in Gryffindor''s hand that originally belonged to himself, and then at the Sword of Gryffindor that had been recorded in the legends of both muggles and wizards. He had a guess in his heart.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "Alright, old friend, it seems I need to ask you for a favor¨C"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    As expected, after a brief hesitation, Gryffindor sadly looked at his own sword. ng! The Sword of Gryffindor, which had been mute for centuries, burst into blinding golden light and magic in mid-air as soon as Gryffindor uttered those words. The spacious temple hall and even the whole Avalon Ind floating in the air suddenly shook violently. The two snake monsters on the twin snake wand slithered along the golden rod as if they still had life. Their orange pupils showed intense hatred, but in the end they reluctantly closed their eyes under Gryffindor''s pressure. Whoosh¨C The Sword of Gryffindor that radiated golden magic and light quivered in mid-air, then cut through the air and fell swiftly into Gryffindor''s empty palm.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Hum¨C As soon as Gryffindor''s words fell, Excalibur, which had been suppressing the power of the Twin Serpent Staff with faith and courage for centuries, suddenly trembled violently in mid-air. It seemed impatient to break free from the earth. The two snake monsters on the wand coiled along the golden rod. Their vicious mouths full of poisonous teeth spat out gray magic that made life shudder.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor''s red hair danced wildly. His sturdy body burst out with an overwhelming aura that seemed to shatter the sky and earth. He held his silver sword upside down and looked determined. He plunged his own sword into the hole on the ground. Then he put both hands on the hilt. The thick and red magic like magma flowed into the ground through his sword as a medium.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Bryan watched what happened in ancient times that no one knew about. Even though he couldn''t feel Gryffindor''s powerful magic that was beyond words due to the barrier of time, his emotions were still aroused.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Under Gryffindor''s forceful suppression, the shaking vision soon calmed down. The hot magic gradually spread along the cracks on the altar and formed an alchemical pattern around the Twin Serpent Staff.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Hiss¨C The two snake monsters attached to the wand seemed to have life. Their orange pupils showed bitter resentment. But in the end, they reluctantly closed their eyes under Gryffindor''s pressure. Whoosh¨C Excalibur, which emitted golden magic and light in mid-air, trembled incessantly. Then it cut through the air and fell into Gryffindor''s empty palm.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "Gryffindor''s famous sword is Arthur''s Excalibur?"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Bryan looked astonished. He felt like his worldview was overturned. But soon he muttered in confusion,

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "The documents about Gryffindor''s sword clearly state that Gryffindor''s legendary sword was forged by Goblins. The shapes of these two swords are not alike at all."

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Since entering this secret realm, Bryan felt like he was reliving his first year at Hogwarts. There were too many things that perplexed him. But his doubt about Gryffindor''s sword was soon answered by what happened next¨C When Gryffindor held Excalibur, the golden and red magic immediately began to sh fiercely¨Cthe sword that carried the will of its original owner, like Excalibur, would not submit to anyone without a reason. The prerequisite for owning it was to conquer it first! Endless golden and red lights blurred Bryan''s vision. Even the traces of Gryffindor that had been left here for thousands of years were disturbed. The man''s figure who was as hot as magma seemed like a TV screen that was affected by strong electromaic interference. It appeared flickering and fuzzy.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Bryan heard Gryffindor''s heartyughter in his ears. In the vague light and shadow, Gryffindor, who was facing Bryan, raised a piece of melted metal and said with pride,

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "I will ask the finest Goblins with the most exquisite skills to reforge your body. After that, you will have a new name and continue your legend!"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor''s exploration of the secret realm was drawing to a close. He reached into his wizard robe and threw a stone pir with cracks on the surface into the air. Bryan gazed at the stone pir that looked identical to the one in Cliodna''s hand. He instantly thought of Gryffindor''s first words.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor seemed to be able to locate the space inside and outside the secret realm through this stone pir. He squeezed half of his body into the fuzzy and twisted space, as if he was about to leave.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "By the way¨C"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Just when Bryan thought he was going to say goodbye to Gryffindor''s time trace, Godric Gryffindor suddenly stopped his movement and turned his head to ''look at'' Bryan with a smile.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Since Gryffindor''s phantom appeared, they had walked together all the way. Their eyes had crossed many times, but Gryffindor''s focus had never been on Bryan. He looked through his figure at other things. But at this moment, his gaze seemed to cross time and fall on Bryan Breen, who was a thousand yearster!

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Bryan realized this at once. He breathed quickly and looked astonished. He thought of Gryffindor''s previous sentence ''Don''t be afraid, follow me''. He was almost certain that Godric Gryffindor seemed to be able to ''see'' himself in the future through some means!

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    "In Szar''s Chamber of Secrets, there are answers to all your curiosities"

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Gryffindor said this sentence to Bryan, then he smiled again and disappeared into the distorted space.

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    Author''s Note: Is the name Twin Serpent staff good or twin basilisk?

    *******

    <i ss="icon parament j_open_parament j_parament_count"></i>

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0116 Chess Piece

    0116 Chess Piece

    Wow! As soon as Godric Gryffindor vanished into thin air, the space in the altar that was distorted by his powerful magic returned to normal, as if nothing had happened. When the light and shadow settled down again, the altar floor was covered with a thickyer of dust that had umted over the centuries.

    The time barrier that isted the altar from the outside world still existed, and the woman Cliodna still stood at the magnificent gate of the temple, looking at the direction of the swamp with a hopeful expression, unaware that Bryan had quietly entered the altar and was only one step away from the Twin Serpent Staff that the Druids had coveted for so long.

    Bryan stared at the silver sword that was deeply inserted in the ground, his expression dull and confused. The sentence left by Gryffindor before he disappeared was always echoing in his mind.

    "The Chamber of Secrets of Szar Slytherin. All the answers to your doubts are there."

    Bryan''s breathing unconsciously became heavy and fast. Since he saw that fragment of memory that he had sealed in his subconscious, he knew that one day he would have to face the challenge of opening the Chamber of Secrets, but he didn''t expect that the reason for having to open it turned out to be a revtion left by Gryffindor, one of the legendary founders of Hogwarts.

    "All your doubts"

    How many puzzles were there in Bryan''s heart? If he counted them carefully, there were too many to list!

    Before entering this secret realm, he just wanted to figure out why the Druid prophecy involved him, and what was the ''ce where Merlin sleeps forever'' that Cliodna mentioned.

    But after entering the secret realm until now, he not only failed to solve the previous problems, but also encountered more mysteries and secrets.

    The four founders nned to destroy the Twin Serpent Staff, which was unquestionable. They had left clues and hints throughout history for this purpose.

    Szar Slytherin created the Chamber of Secrets and cultivated a real snake monster, a Basilisk, for this purpose. He also hid his own secrets and legacy in that dark and hidden ce.

    Godric Gryffindor may have known Bryan''s existence through some means, perhaps prophecy or divination, before entering this secret realm, and after entering the secret realm, he helped Bryan approach the Twin Serpent Staff with unheard-of methods and ways. He even used his own sword as a key to unlock the seal of the staff.

    "Why do both the four founders and the Druid prophecy think I can pick up the Twin Serpent Staff?"

    ''The indestructible Twin Serpent Staff only obeys its own master.'', Bryan did not forget Gryffindor''s words, nor did he forget the scene when Gryffindor tried to pick up the Twin Serpent Staff and this staff burst out with a dazzling light and a terrifying force. That power was so strong that even Gryffindor, one of the greatest wizards of all time, could not resist it and was thrown back by it.

    In the center of the altar, the mysterious staff that should only exist in myths and legendsy quietly on a stone pedestal. It silently faced Bryan''s gaze, as if waiting for him to make a decision.

    "Why do they have to destroy you? Even at the expense of nning a thousand years in advance."

    Two of the four founders left traces in front of Bryan. What did Rowena Ravenw and Helga Hufflepuff do? Did they also leave some clues or messages for him somewhere?

    Bryan had a strong feeling that if he insisted on investigating it, then they would sooner orter ''appear'' in front of him in some way or another.

    In addition to these questions, seeing the mural on the huge stone wall in the back hall also left him puzzled and curious.

    How did the Twin Serpent Staff appear in Morgan Le Fay''s hands and be the ''holy object'' of the Druid sect? How did she use it to create such a powerful magic circle that could manipte time and space? In addition, what was the shadow in Morgan Le Fay''s body that was mentioned in both rumors and murals? Was it rted to her mysterious origin or that dark jellyfish thing?

    At the end of the mural, Merlin was depicted as standing alone in front of this temple. He held Arthur''s broken steel holy sword in his hand and used it to suppress the Twin Serpent Staff. What happened after that?

    Where did Merlin go? Did he disappear in time like Gryffindor said? Or did he go to another ce where no one could find him?

    The conspiracy behind all these puzzles was like a big covering Bryan''s head, making him feel unspeakable depression and suffocation. He felt like he was caught in a maze with no exit.

    Bryan''s eyes flickered with uncertain light, and his heart even rose up with some thoughts of no longer entangled in these things. He thought of giving up on getting to the bottom of it and just focusing on studying magic, improving his strength, and living a ''normal'' life.

    Dada Dada¨C

    The sound of footsteps echoed in the ancient altar, breaking the silence that hadsted for thousands of years. After Gryffindor, this altar once again had a wizard visit, a young man who had unwittingly stepped into a secret realm that was beyond his imagination.

    Thousands of years have passed. The magic circle left by Gryffindor at that time was full of cracks. Many magic nodes were blocked. The magic flow was not smooth. This also caused the power of this ''artifact'' to leak out again and inject into the earth. The evil magic power that makes life wither and decay.

    If Bryan chooses to give up trying and leave the Twin Serpent Staff here, then one day in the future, Avalon Ind will copsepletely under the erosion of this kind of magic power. This space will also be lost in the boundless space, bing a forgotten ruin that no one can ever find again.

    Maybe she felt tired. The Cliodna at the temple gate gave up looking. She looked at the hall wrapped in a hazy barrier. She couldn''t see the situation inside the altar. Then she crossed her arms around her knees and sat on the white stone threshold of the gate, resting her chin on her hands.

    When no one was there, Cliodna''s emerald eyes showed some confusion, and her slender and delicate figure revealed a sense of destion and helplessness. She looked like a lonely fairy who had lost her way in the mortal world.

    Bryan stared at the female priest who was probably at the age of just being graduated from Hogwarts in the wizarding world behind the barrier. He sighed heavily and felt some pity in his heart. He didn''t know whether the Druid sect knew or not what was on the altar behind the barrier.

    He didn''t know what they expected to find there, or what they hoped to achieve with it. He didn''t know where they got the revtion that the Twin Serpent Staff could help them get rid of the predicament of being hunted.

    After seeing the battle on the mural and the strength shown by Gryffindor, he was not doubting the power of the Twin Serpent Staff, but everything existed. The clues all showed that everything was not so simple. He and the Druid sect are probably being used as pawns to achieve some mysterious and sinister goals.

    Is it escape or face it now?

    Bryan looked around this magnificent temple expressionlessly, weighing and hesitating in his heart. He knew very well that this was a decision that concerned his future destiny. Different choices would lead him to twopletely different paths in life. After hesitating for a while, suddenly, Bryan shook his head slightly and showed a mysterious smile.

    Actually, there was no need to hesitate, wasn''t it? He had already made a choice¨C

    Standing in front of the strange staff, Bryan''s heart beat unconsciously faster, and his breathing became rapid. He felt a strange attraction from the Twin Serpent Staff, as if it was calling him to touch it, to im it as his own.

    In these years, he has traveled in the wizarding world and has seen many rare and precious magical items that have left a name in history, but he has always been indifferent to those things. Even the crown of Ravenw, one of the four founders'' relics, was handed over to Dumbledore without any hesitation.

    The real reason for doing this was actually that Bryan has always believed that the power in his own hands was the real power, and the strength obtained by relying on external objects would eventually be stripped away by someone or something stronger.

    But this staff gave Bryan a very different feeling. It seemed to contain an ancient and mysterious power that transcended time and space, life and death, light and darkness. It seemed to be able to grant him any wish he desired, as long as he could master it. If he could really use the power in the Twin Serpent Staff, then he would almost immediately be an invincible existence in the contemporary wizarding world!

    Whether it was Albus Dumbledore, the greatest white wizard of the present day, or Voldemort, who was lurking in the dark and peeping at the wizarding world, waiting for an opportunity to rise again with his army of Death Eaters; or Gellert Grindelwald, who was bound in Nurmengard and had lost his faith after being defeated by Dumbledore; they would all be nothing to fear!

    If he could use the power of the Twin Serpent Staff, Bryan could even integrate all the magical civilizations of all countries on earth, establish a great and magnificent magical dynasty that would rule over all wizards and witches, and march into the Muggle world with his loyal followers.

    In the end, he would be a veritable ''earth monarch'', the supreme ruler of all living beings! In the contemporary wizarding world where the power of wizards has declined to this point, if Bryan was determined to do so, with his wisdom and the power of the Twin Serpent Staff, no one was qualified to be his stumbling block!

    For Extra Chapters : /FicFrenzy

 0117 Breaking the Shackles

    0117 Breaking the Shackles

    Human ambition, like a raging fire, will grow more and more intense with the increase of power.

    Bryan is not a saint. In fact, he knows that only those who are dead and gone can be qualified to be saints.

    Bryan does not covet power, because he has a clear vision that the core of power is strength. A wizard like Cornelius Fudge, whose power ispletely built on the fragile order of the wizarding society, has unstable and ephemeral rights. Bryan''s desire for strength is stronger than most people. The source of this desire is partly his biological nature, and partly because the unexpected crossing made him feel his own powerlessness. He eagerly wants to have the power to determine his own destiny, to be the master of his own fate.

    And now, this power that can contend with fate is in front of him, within reach, tempting him with its irresistible allure.

    As his mood changed, the magic power around Bryan surged violently, like a stormy sea. Ambition was like a runaway wild horse, rampaging in his heart. Pictures appeared in his mind, which were the pictures of him fulfilling his ''dream'', he established an epic and magnificent magic dynasty!

    Hundreds of thousands of wizards from all over the world gathered together and looked at him in the clouds with extremely respectful eyes. Behind the wizards, billions of muggles shouted his name, as if praising a god.

    "What a wonderful picture¨C"

    Bryan closed his eyes and hugged nothingness and muttered, his voice full of longing and ecstasy.

    Since humans have civilization, no one canpare with his achievements. Since ancient times, no one has been stronger than him.

    He will live forever, his words will be revtions, his statues will be built on the highest ce on earth, his greatness will be remembered by the years, and will be remembered regardless of changes in the world and vicissitudes of life! And now, only one step away from all this, that is to pull out the Twin Serpent Staff and submit to the power of the Twin Serpent Staff. As long as he submits to it, he can easily solve the hidden dangers in the wizarding world today. Albus Dumbledore will respectfully hand over the title of ''the greatest wizard of this era'' with both hands!

    "Just submit."

    Bryan muttered again while closing his eyes and immersing himself in fantasy. He kept repeating the word ''submit''. His straight back unconsciously curved, and his knees also bent. It seemed that he was about to kneel before the Twin Serpent Staff, surrendering his will to it.

    The two closed-eyed snake monsters clinging to the golden staff opened their hideous mouths at Bryan, as if showing a silent sneer.

    The indestructible Twin Serpent Staff only submits to its own master! Just before Bryanpletely lost himself in ambition and desire, a red-haired Godric Gryffindor appeared in front of him, and his previous self-talk sounded like thunder in Bryan''s mind, making him suddenly open his closed eyes!

    Whoosh! In an instant, Bryan''s mind shattered and dissipated those false pictures like bubbles. The clear reason regained control of the pale purple eyes.

    Cold sweat slid down his pale cheeks like water droplets. His heart beat like a drum. Bryan staggered back several steps. He looked at the still silent staff with indescribable horror! It was close. Just close. If it weren''t for remembering Gryffindor''s words at thest moment, Bryan almost became a puppet of this ''artifact''!

    "Terrible¨C"

    Bryan murmured with lingering fear. The short ten seconds just now was probably the most dangerous moment since he entered the wizarding world.

    The Twin Serpent Staff only submits to its own master. This means that only its master can use the power of the Twin Serpent Staff. Is Bryan its master? Of course not, its master is the legendary dark witch Morgan Le Fay or the shadow hidden in Morgan Le Fay''s body, not Bryan Watson.

    "Only with my help can you take out the sacred artifact belonging to the Druid religion from ''Merlin''s resting ce''¨C"

    Bryan looked at Cliodna at the door with a pale face. The little pity in his heart disappeared cleanly. He suddenly had an urge to curse her for her deception and maniption.

    Wiping off the cold sweat on his forehead, Bryan turned around and wanted to leave. He wanted to check whether the passage that cut into the time barrier still existed. But as he turned around, Bryan''s face suddenly stiffened and pain appeared on his pale face again.

    Magic¨C Inside the barrier, the magic power existing in the time gap suddenly became restless and poured into Bryan''s body endlessly! It only took a breath of time for Bryan to understand what had happened¨Cmagic riot, he actually encountered a magic riot again! Including the magic awakening in childhood and the sudden increase of magic power caused by mood changes at Hogwarts a few months ago, this was already the third magic riot that urred on Bryan''s body, and this time it was triggered by Bryan sessfully resisting the temptation of the Twin Serpent Staff, reason overcame the ambition to control the power far beyond his own ability.

    The soul is the source of magic. Whenever it undergoes a purification or refinement, the wizard''s magic power experiences dramatic fluctuations or tremendous transformations. For a talented wizard like Bryan, this change was especially obvious.

    With the experience from thest time, he handled this kind of thing much more easily. As soon as he realized what had happened, he activated the magic engraved in his eyes. The vortex rotated at full speed, like a powerful engine. Itpressed and stored the misty magic power in his eyes. As this process continued, his eyes turned into a deep purple color, like a bottomless abyss.

    "What is this? A blessing in disguise?"

    He scratched his hair and showed a wry smile, looking at the two pure purple gems reflected in the water mirror. Even the shape of his pupils became vague. The feeling of fullness and swelling in his body and eyes told him that he had grown stronger again.

    This is not to say that he already has the power to crush Albus Dumbledore immediately, but that his actual strength level has once again approached his ''boosted'' strength.

    "The problem is, how can I see people with this look in the future? I''m afraid even the stupidest people will realize that something is wrong with my eyes."

    Bryan felt happy for his breakthrough on the path of magic, but also felt troubled by the small problems it brought. If he didn''t deal with it, his appearance would definitely be regarded as a ''freak'' by people. After thinking for a while, Bryan turned his wand against his eyes. A strand of silver mist came out from the tip of the wand and floated to his eyes, and piled up into ayer of ''thin lenses'' near his eye sockets. As the silver mist disappeared, the color of Bryan''s eyes faded at a speed visible to the naked eye until they returned to their original brown appearance.

    "Although it can''t fool Dumbledore''s level of wizard''s eyes, other people should not be able to see through this very practical illusion magic. I have to say ''thank you'' to you, Professor Lockhart¨C"

    Bryan sighed and dispelled the water mirror, smiling. He remembered how he learned this illusion magic from Gilderoy Lockhart''s book on how to make himself look more handsome.

    ********************************************

    For Extra Chapters : /FicFrenzy

 0118 The End of the Ruins (Part-1)

    0118 The End of the Ruins (Part-1)

    "As expected, I was tricked again¨C"

    Looking at the stone pir that vanished in the shimmering barrier, Bryan muttered through clenched teeth. He felt a surge of anger and frustration in his chest.

    Logically, since he could follow the faint time trace of Gryffindor and prate the barrier to enter the inner space, it seemed to indicate that the safe crack had existed for a thousand years, but now, the crack disappeared strangely after Bryan passed through. It was as if someone had deliberately closed the door behind him, trapping him inside.

    "No wonder the priests of the Druids have never found the crack for so many centuries. It seems that this is what Godric Gryffindor left for me specifically¨C"

    Bryan pursed his lips, his voice was gloomy and bitter, without a trace of hope. Without that passage, Bryan could not leave the altar by his own power, which meant that, except for trying to pick up the Twin Serpent Staff again, he had almost no way to think of.

    Bryan didn''t know why the four founders of Hogwarts left so many arrangements and backups, and what their purpose was to destroy the Twin Serpent Staff, but he couldn''t agree with their behavior of involving him unreasonably.

    He felt like a pawn in a chess game that he didn''t understand, manipted by forces beyond his control. Staring at the mysterious staff, whichy on the ground like a dead snake, after a long time, Bryan sighed softly, his sigh was full of helplessness.

    From the perspective of the modern magical world, Bryan was a powerful wizard in every aspect, but for the Hogwarts giants of a thousand years ago, or even Merlin who had be a mythical figure in the distant past, he was undoubtedly weak. He was like a child facing a mountain, unable to climb or move it.

    Weakness is a sin, whether in the muggle society or the wizarding world, this is an unbreakable truth, ming those who have been swallowed by time and have already died has no use, if you want to me, you can only me his own weakness. He realized that he had overestimated his own abilities and underestimated the dangers of the ind of Avalon.

    The ind of Avalon had been sleeping in the embrace of death for more than a dozen centuries, and during this long time, no one had set foot on this mythical ind except for the previous priests.

    With her arms around her knees, Cliodna looked at the direction of the swamp, and her eyes were worried and anxious. She bit her lower lip nervously, wondering what was happening inside the temple.

    From what she heard and investigated, Bryan Watson seemed to be a very powerful wizard, but this kind of power needed to be contrasted with the background of the modern magical world. If ced in the ancient magical era that had been mythologized, Bryan Watson was not so amazing. He was like a candle in the sun, dim and insignificant.

    In the depths of her heart, Cliodna had always had doubts about her teacher''s prophecy, and she didn''t understand why a wizard who had never had anything to do with the Druids was considered to have the ability to help them get the ''holy relic'' recorded in the records. She wondered if her teacher had made a mistake or had been deceived by some false vision.

    And the reason why she invited Bryan Watson here at the risk of exposing the ind of Avalon was actually more of a desperate move when she was forced to do so. She had no other choice but to trust her teacher''s words and hope that Bryan Watson could seed where so many others had failed.

    The dead air suddenly rippled with a breeze, and the dust on the ground danced with the wind, drifting to the unknown distance. Cliodna looked at the flying dust with a sense of loss, feeling that her fate was like dust, blown by the whims of the gods. No, how could there be wind on the ind of Avalon, it has been clearly dead for more than a dozen centuries!

    Cliodna clenched her grapevine wand and stood up in horror. Suddenly, she turned around and saw a thin figure walking down from the ancient altar on the ground behind the quickly dissipating time barrier, and walking towards her! Her heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat.

    Looking at Cliodna''s red lips, which were slightly parted in surprise, Bryan, who was gloomy all over, raised the Twin Serpent Staff that had cut off contact with the earth and restrained its own evil magic power, and showed a cold smile. His eyes were dark and unfriendly, and his face was pale and tired.

    "I have fulfilled my mission, Miss Coffey¨C"

    When did Bryan Watson enter the temple, how did he break through the chaotic space-time barrier that so many previous priests had no way of, these doubts became insignificant when Cliodna saw the Twin Serpent Staff. She felt a shock and a thrill in her chest, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

    "Give it to me."

    She stared nkly at the staff, her delicate body trembling slightly.

    For more than a dozen centuries, hundreds of previous priests sacrificed themselves, countless believers died, death and blood haunted them like a curse, those unforgettable hatreds surged like waves, making Cliodna unable to maintain the calmness disguised by magic.

    "Give it to me!"

    She screamed with a hysterical despair, and hatred made her beautiful face twisted. She felt a burning pain in her chest, as if her heart was being torn apart by the memories of the past. She had waited for so long, endured so much, and sacrificed so much, for this moment, for this staff, for this holy relic that could restore the glory of the Druids.

    The tears in the air reflected Cliodna''s desperate expression, and her eyes were red and swollen. She looked like a wounded beast, ready to pounce on anyone who dared to stand in her way.

    Bryan''s eyelids twitched slightly, and his heart throbbed a little, but he stopped and did not move forward. His calm tone was a bit indifferent, and his words were like ice, cold and sharp.

    "I have some doubts in my heart, Miss Coffey, unless you can answer my doubts, otherwise, I think it''s better to keep this staff in my hand."

    Bryan''s decisive refusal made Cliodna angry, and she raised her wand with a formidable magic power, as if, if Bryan was unwilling to hand over the Twin Serpent Staff, she would kill Bryan Watson without hesitation.

    "Anger often drives us to make stupid moves,"

    Bryan said with a mocking smile, as if he could see through Cliodna''s mind,

    "And stupid moves often make us pay a huge price, Miss Coffey, do you want to test this truth with your own actions?"

    "The wizards who are active in the underground world of Knockturn Alley mostly think that you are a wizard who values reputation, not to mention this, we have signed a magical contract, Mr. Watson."

    Bryan''s cold words were like a cold wind, making Cliodna regain some reason, her reason was struggling hard with those tragic past events, which made her always on the verge of copse. She tried to appeal to Bryan''s sense of honor and obligation, and reminded him of the binding force of the contract. She hoped that he would not break his promise.

    "You need to give me the holy relic of the Druids in the ''Land of Merlin''s Eternal Sleep''. If you vite the contract, you will receive severe punishment, even a wizard like you can''t bear the power of the contract bacsh!"

    She said with a stern voice, trying to intimidate Bryan with the consequences of his actions. She knew that the contract was her only leverage, and she had to use it to the fullest.

    "Magic follows rules, I can''t escape the shackles of the contract¨C"

    Bryan nodded slightly, acknowledging Cliodna''s words, but before Cliodna showed a happy expression, he suddenly snorted.

    "But there is a trivial loophole in the contract, Miss Coffey, I regret that you didn''t find it. ''The Land of Merlin''s Eternal Sleep'' - that is, where Merlin was finally buried, please tell me, where is his tomb, where is his corpse, Miss Coffey, if you can''t give a reasonable exnation, it means that this Twin Serpent Staff is just what I found on the ind of Avalon, and not in the ''Land of Merlin''s Eternal Sleep'', whether it is the holy relic of the Druids or not."

    Looking at the stunned and speechless Druid priest, Bryan, who was gloomy by the conspiracy, finally showed a happy smile

    "You who always like to stay in the woods probably don''t realize that the outside world is very sinister, Miss Coffey."

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0119 The End of the Ruins (Part-2)

    0119 The End of the Ruins (Part-2)

    As Bryan uttered his final words, they reverberated in the empty temple hall, creating a chilling echo that filled the air with a mysterious atmosphere of killing. Across a distance of fifty feet, the two people locked their gazes, seeing the unyielding determination in each other''s different-colored pupils. Bryan''s eyes were a deep blue, like the ocean, while Cliodna''s eyes were a bright green, like the forest. It seemed that a fierce conflict was inevitable.

    Bryan looked indifferent, his face showing no emotion. He was confident in his own strength, but he had never fought with a druid before, and he was also on guard against whether Cliodna had any means that a wizard could not imagine.

    Hiss¨C And just as he was on alert in his heart, the burning sensation in his palm made him startled, and then his face changed. He felt a sudden pain, as if his hand was being bitten by a venomous snake.

    Since oveing the temptation of power, until Bryan cut off its connection with the earth, the Twin Serpent Staff was like an ordinary staff, without any resistance or strange phenomena. Bryan easily pulled it out from the stone pedestal, and after he got it, the time barrier around the altar also dissipated. Everything was so simple that it was unbelievable.

    But without any warning, the two Basilisk carved on the staff opened their clear yellow eyes again, and a force of resistance that was hard to resist suddenly surged from the cold staff, just like the previous time when it bounced off Gryffindor''s grab. The staff seemed to have a will of its own, and it did not want to be taken by Bryan now.

    In the blink of an eye, Bryan threw the Twin Serpent Staff into the air, summoning a silver metal shield to block in front of him. He did not know what the staff was going to do, but he did not want to take any chances.

    The sudden change also stunned Cliodna, she looked at the Twin Serpent Staff spinning in the air, and only hesitated for a very short time, then threw away her hesitation, and brought a desperate determination, summoning the golden staff to her hand.

    The millennium vision was realized like this, and Cliodna was also a little dazed and speechless, but the abnormality of the Twin Serpent Staff continued, and a heart-pounding gray magic power surged from the golden staff. The Basilisk with open eyes climbed on the golden staff and spit out thick ck smoke. The smoke gathered into a grim reaper-like figure in mid-air, staring at the somewhat at a loss Cliodna below. The figure was cloaked in a dark robe, and its face was hidden by a hood. Only a pair of red eyes could be seen, glowing with a sinister light.

    Hum¨C The majestic humming sound echoed in the temple, and Bryan looked solemn. He suddenly remembered the scene he saw on the mural, the hidden shadow that emerged from the body of the legendary ck witch Morgan Le Fay when she was about to lose to Merlin and King Arthur. He had a bad feeling about this, and he wondered if the shadow was somehow rted to the Twin Serpent Staff.

    "Why¨Cwhy do you do this!"

    The humming sound from the shadow contained a revtion that Bryan could not understand. This revtion seemed to contain some incredible information, which made Cliodna''s green eyes show a gradual change from confusion to disbelief, and even, asked in disbelief. She could not believe what the shadow was telling her, and she felt a surge of anger and fear.

    "What exactly did you hear!"

    The mysterious and weird scene that happened in the empty temple hall made Bryan frown, and he asked Cliodna loudly. He wanted to know what the shadow was saying, and what it wanted from them. He sensed that this was not a good sign, and he prepared himself for a possible attack.

    The priestess of the Druid sect seemed to have heard something extremely absurd, and the green eyes showed all the astonishment. From the expression on her face, she seemed to resist the revtion given by the shadow in the Twin Serpent Staff very much. She clenched her teeth, and shook her head, as if trying to reject the voice in her mind. As a response to Cliodna''s resistance, the humming sound from the shadow became more sharp, as if ordering her to execute the absurd order it issued. The sound was like a knife, cutting through the air, and piercing into Bryan''s ears. He felt a chill in his spine, and he wondered what the shadow wanted from them.

    "Tell me, what is it saying!"

    The mysterious and weird scene that happened in the empty temple hall made Bryan frown, and he asked Cliodna loudly. He wanted to know what the shadow was saying, and what it wanted from them. He sensed that this was not a good sign, and he prepared himself for a possible attack. He held his wand tightly in his hand, and his eyes shed with a cold light.

    Cliodna gradually became calm, she looked at Bryan, her eyes still unwilling, but for some reason, Bryan also noticed some apologies in this woman''splicated eyes. She seemed to regret something, and she also seemed to pity him. She opened her mouth, and said in a low voice, as if she was confessing a sin.

    "I don''t know much more than you, Mr. Watsoon, anyway, thank you for getting it for us¨C"

    When she finished this sentence, in mid-air, the shadow that hadpleted its mission suddenly disappeared. It vanished without a trace, as if it had never existed. Before Bryan could react, the Twin Serpent Staff that was not driven by anyone suddenly floated above Cliodna''s head, bursting out a gray halo, and directly took Cliodna away from the temple with a sh, and disappeared. It was like a portal, opening and closing in an instant, leaving no trace behind.

    "Wait!"

    Bryan yelled and ran towards the spot where Cliodna had just stood. He tried to use the residual magic in the air to lock onto Cliodna''s position and chase her with Apparition, but the chaotic magic field in the ruins and the spatial restriction were stronger than the Anti-Disapparition Jinx. Bryan''s figure suddenly blurred, as if he was about to squeeze into the air, but the next second, he was repelled. He felt a powerful force pushing him back and he stumbled and fell to the ground.

    "This woman!"

    Bryan almost cursed, he still wanted to try to locate again, but at this time, the temple suddenly shook violently, and the sudden weightlessness made Bryan stunned for a while,

    Crash! He heard a loud noise, and he saw the ceiling of the temple copsing, and the stones falling down like rain.

    "The ruins is copsing!"

    The space created by magic quickly copsed, and the earth cracked open with shocking cracks. The world began to tilt in Bryan''s eyes. All these signs indicated that this ruins that had existed for more than a thousand years was about to copse after the Twin Serpent Staff left.

    If he couldn''t leave here before the ruins copsed, then he might be banished to the chaotic void and nevere back.

    Thinking of this, Bryan didn''t dare to dy, and prepared to leave the hall immediately, fly to the door that entered the ruins, and leave the ruins, but when he stepped forward, he suddenly remembered something and looked at the altar. His sight fell on the silver sword that belonged to Gryffindor. The sword was still stuck in the stone pedestal, and it shone with a faint light. It was a relic of the ancient wizarding world, and it had a great value. Bryan hesitated for a moment, and then decided to take the sword with him. He ran to the altar, and pulled out the sword with a strong force. He felt a surge of power in his hand, and he admired the sword for a moment, before putting it in his robe.

    He then turned around, and ran to the exit of the temple. He saw a huge stone door, carved with mysterious runes, and it was slowly closing. He realized that he had no time to waste, and he sprinted towards the door, hoping to make it in time.

    He barely managed to squeeze through the door, before it closedpletely. He felt a gust of wind blowing on his face, and he saw the bright sunlight outside. He was relieved, and he thought he had escaped from the danger.

    But he was wrong.

    As soon as he stepped out of the door, he saw a scene that made him speechless. He saw the Stonehenge Park, where he had entered the ruins, but it was not the same as he remembered. There were hundreds of muggles, standing around the stone circle. They were looking at him with curiosity, shock, and fear. They saw himing out of the stone door, wearing a strange robe, and holding a wand and a sword. They saw the dust and smoke behind him, and heard the rumbling sound of the copsing ruins.

    The originally noisy Stonehenge Park became extremely quiet in an instant. Hundreds of muggles stared dumbfounded at the few huge stones that suddenly fell down, and the young man in a strange robe who ran out of the waving dust. They did not know what to say, or what to do.

    "Who are you, what did you do?"

    The muggle guide who specialized in introducing the origin of Stonehenge looked at the gray and gloomy young man and asked stutteringly. He was scared and confused, and he wondered if he was dreaming.

    Bryan ignored him, and looked around. He saw the familiar scenery, but he also saw something different. He saw the cars, the buses, the signs, and the people. He saw the modern world, and he felt a sense of alienation.

    He nced at the sun hanging in the middle of the sky, emitting infinite light and heat, and Bryan was in a trance for a moment.

    He and Cliodna entered the ruins in the second half ofst night, and they only stayed for a few hours inside, but when they came out it was already noon. No!

    "What date is it today?"

    Bryan looked at the muggle guide and asked in a deep voice. He had a bad feeling, and he hoped he was wrong.

    "July 28, sir. You."

    "It''s been five days. The time flow speed of the inner and outer space is different?"

    At this time, a snow-white owl that had been hovering in the high sky for several days swooped down andnded directly on Bryan''s shoulder, and tilted his head and pecked Bryan''s cheek hard, seeming to have been waiting for a long time.

    Bryan ignored the whispering muggles and unfolded the letter paper. He only nced at it twice, and a tick mark appeared on his forehead.

    "Thank you, little guy, I already know¨C"

    Bryan smiled slightly at the snow-white owl and nodded in thanks.

    Coo¨C This very smart owl pecked Bryan''s earlobe again with his beak, urging him to leave quickly, and then pped his wings and flew away, soon disappearing from people''s sight.

    There was amotion not far away, and several muggle policemen were squeezing through the crowd and rushing towards the precious historical relic that was destroyed.

    Bryan turned around and waved his wand, restoring the massive stones that had lost their magic, and then, with a slight apology, addressed the muggles who were questioning their sanity,

    "I''m sorry to disturb your tour, I''ll leave right away- Obliviate!"

    For Extra Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0120 The Dursleyâ€™s Abnormality

    0120 The Dursley¡¯s Abnormality

    Dear readers,

    I dedicate this chapter to the memory of Michael Gambon, who passed away today on September 28, 2023. He was the actor who portrayed Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of his time, in the Harry Potter films. He was the true embodiment of Dumbledore''s wisdom and courage. He brought magic and joy to millions of people around the world with his unforgettable performances.

    Rest in peace, Sir Michael. You will always be our Dumbledore.

    Please raise your wands up for him.

    ***********************************************

    For most young wizards from wizarding families, the summer vacation time at Hogwarts is very wonderful. At home, they don''t have to worry about those boring magic courses. They can sleep until noon every day, enjoying the softness of their beds and the warmth of their nkets. After lunch, they can take out the flying broom from the broom shed and fly freely around thewn of the house, feeling the wind in their hair and the sun on their skin.

    They can also y Quidditch with their friends or siblings, or explore the nearby woods and fields for magical creatures. They enjoy the pleasant holiday time, full of fun and freedom. The homework assigned by the professors at school will not cause them too much trouble, because their parents or brothers are all graduated from that school with qualified grades. It is easy to guide the young wizards toplete their holiday homework, giving them tips and tricks on how to write essays, brew potions, or cast spells. They can also borrow books from the family library or visit the local magical shops to get more information and supplies. They are confident and proud of their magical heritage and abilities.

    In addition, all the wizarding families who are still rich will use the summer vacation time to take their children to visit the magical world''s scenic spots and increase their knowledge. They can travel to different countries and continents, using Floo powder, Portkeys, or Apparition. They can see the wonders of nature, such as the Great Lake of Scond, the ck Forest of Germany, or the Himyas of Nepal. They can also visit the historical and cultural sites, such as the Ministry of Magic, the Leaky Cauldron, or the Gringotts Bank. They can learn more about the history and traditions of the wizarding world, and meet other wizards and witches from different backgrounds and cultures.

    Harry coveted this kind of life, because byparison, the days at the Dursleys were too bad. He hated living with his only rtives in the world, who treated him like a burden and a freak. He wished he could escape from them and find a ce where he belonged and was epted.

    Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son Dudley are Harry''s only rtives in the world, but if there is a choice, Harry would rather not have such arge family of rtives, and would rather grow up in an orphanage. Harry is not ashamed of his own thoughts, after all, the orphanage will not let him live in the store room under the stairs for several years, right? They will not starve him, beat him, or lock him up. They will not make him wear Dudley''s old and oversized clothes, or do all the chores in the house. They will not call him names, or mock him, or ignore him.

    They hate each other, and this hatred reached its peak after Harry''s eleventh birthday, when he was admitted to that ''freak'' school.

    Harry was overjoyed when he received his letter from Hogwarts, and learned that he was a wizard. He discovered a whole new world, where he had friends, mentors, and adventures. He finally felt happy, and alive, and free. But the Dursleys were horrified and furious when they learned that Harry was a wizard. They tried to stop him from going to Hogwarts, by hiding his letters, moving to a remote ind, and even attacking the messenger who came to deliver his letter, a half-giant named Hagrid. They failed, of course, and Harry left them with a bang, literally. He turned Dudley into a pig, and flew away on a flying motorcycle. He never looked back, and never regretted it.

    In Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the young wizard Harry hated the most was undoubtedly Draco Malfoy of Slytherin School, a boy of family that was the most grant in the magical world, hated Muggles or half-blooded wizards. Draco was a spoiled and arrogant brat, who looked down on everyone who was not pure-blooded or rich. He was a bully and a coward, and always hid behind his cronies or his father.

    The Dursleys werepletely opposite, but not in a good way. The attitude towards magic of Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley was like people in the Middle Ages, wishing to send everything rted to magic or things to the gallows. They were ignorant and prejudiced, and always denied the existence of magic or anything that was not normal. They were narrow-minded and selfish, and always cared about their reputation or their possessions. They were the worst kind of Muggles, and always hated Harry and his world.

    Many nights when he had to hide in the bed andplete his summer homework with a shlight, Harry had fantasized about what interesting sparks they would collide with each other if the Dursleys met the Malfoys. He imagined the chaos and destruction that would ensue, and theughter and satisfaction that would fill him.

    Of course, this is just Harry''s fantasy of making fun of himself. Under normal circumstances, these two families are impossible to meet each other. They live in different worlds, and have nothing inmon. They would never cross paths, or even know each other''s names. They would never have any reason to interact, or even acknowledge each other''s presence. They would never, ever, ever meet. Or so Harry thought.

    Today is Saturday. Because of the shrinking potion paper assigned by the most annoying professor in Hogwarts, Harry almost didn''t sleepst night, which directly resulted in him unfortunately missing the normal breakfast time of the Dursleys. He had to stay upte to finish his essay. He had to write about the ingredients, the procedure, and the effects of the shrinking potion, which was one of the most difficult and dangerous potions to brew. He had to use his own words, and not copy from the textbook, or else he would get a zero. He had to do his best, and not make any mistakes, or else he would get a detention. He hated the shrinking potion, and he hated the professor who assigned it.

    When Harry came to the dining table in the kitchen downstairs with hurried steps, he found that there were only a few empty greasy tes on the table, and Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were sitting around the table watching TV. This was not surprising at all. Where Dudley appears, it is wishful thinking to have something to eat if you get upte. Dudley was a glutton and a pig, who ate everything in sight, and never left anything for Harry. He was always hungry and greedy, and never shared anything with Harry.

    Seeing Harry standing at the stairway, his expression was not very pleasant. Dudley, who was fat and almost as young as a whale with a tuft of blond hair on his head, showed off the cream cake in his hand. His thick lips that were almost the same as sausages were smeared with cream. It looks like Uncle Vernon''s thick mustache, which was always twitching and snorting. Dudley smirked and snorted, and took a big bite of the cake, making a loud and disgusting noise. He wanted to make Harry jealous and angry, and make him lose his temper.

    "Uh, I had a nightmarest night, so¨C"

    But Aunt Petunia, who had a horse face, strangely poked her little darling under the table and stopped him fromughing at Harry.

    And Uncle Vernon, who loves to roar at Harry, did not yell at him that he was an ungrateful bad boy, but instead pointed his short and thick purple finger at the kitchen counter.

    "There are still a few pieces of bread and fried eggs left for you, kid¨C"

    When he said this, Vernon gasped, and his huge body that was bigger than Dudley shrank, as if he was trying to suppress his anger.

    "Oh, okay!"

    Harry said in a t tone, as he looked at the two dry slices of bread that were supposed to be his breakfast. He knew that the Dursleys must have made a huge sacrifice to spare this meager food for him, instead of letting Dudley devour it as usual. They probably had to buy Dudley another new gameputer or a remote control ne or something, just like the new color TV that was now hanging on the wall of the kitchen, adding to the clutter of electronic gadgets.

    In fact, if this had happened in the summer vacationst year, Harry might have been astonished by the rare kindness shown by the Dursleys. But he had grown used to their strange behavior in the past two weeks. He had a feeling that they were hiding something from him, something that they didn''t want him to know.

    At first, Harry thought that they were in a particrly good mood because of some lucky event. The first week of the official start of the summer vacation, Uncle Vernon''spany had given him a new car, a sleek and shiny model that he parked proudly in the front garden. He and Aunt Petunia had been loudly discussing its features and price, so that the neighbors on Privet Drive could hear them and envy them.

    Butter, Harry realized that there was more to it than that. He knew from his years of living with the Dursleys that no matter how good things were going for them, they would never treat him nicely for more than two days. There was something else that was making them act so unnaturally.

    Dudley had turned his piggy face to the TV screen, where a cartoon was ying, but hisrge ears were pricked up, listening intently to the conversation.

    Harry sat in his usual spot at the table, the farthest from the window, and chewed on his bread slices quietly, pretending not to notice the furtive nces that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged.

    They were nning something, Harry sensed it, but he decided not to say anything. He wanted to finish his breakfast as quickly as possible, and retreat to his room, where he could be alone with his thoughts. He was not sure what the Dursleys were up to, but he doubted that it would be anything good for him. If he angered them, they might take away his food for the next few days, or lock him in his cupboard under the stairs, or worse. He had experienced all of these punishments before he went to Hogwarts.

    "How are you learning, kid!"

    Uncle Vernon finally broke the silence, his voice loud and gruff. He and Aunt Petunia seemed to have reached a consensus, after a long and tense debate. It was still Uncle Vernon who spoke, but he looked like he was swallowing a bitter pill. Every time he uttered a syble, his shoulders twitched violently. Harry felt his body tense up, and he had a sudden premonition that he was about to find out what had been bothering him for so long.

    Uncle Vernon''s question was so unexpected, that Harry was stunned for a few seconds. He tried to figure out what Uncle Vernon was talking about, and then he felt a shock of disbelief and fear. He widened his bright green eyes, hidden behind his round sses, and stared at Uncle Vernon incredulously.

    If there was anything absolutely forbidden to mention in this house, it was anything rted to magic. Harry had learned that the hard way, ever since he was a baby. The Dursleys hated and feared magic, and they hated and feared him for being a wizard. They had tried to stamp out any sign of magic in him, and they had punished him severely whenever he did something unusual or idental. They had never spoken about his true identity, or his parents, or his school. They had pretended that he was a normal boy, a very bad and ungrateful one, who deserved nothing but contempt and cruelty. But now, they were the ones who brought up the topic of magic.

    Harry felt like he was dreaming, and he wanted to pinch his cheek to see if he was awake.

    "You mean in. Hogwarts.!"

    Harry blurted out, without thinking. He saw Uncle Vernon''s face turn from red to purple, and Aunt Petunia''s thin shoulder des poke through her skin, as she clenched her teeth. He realized his mistake, and quickly changed his words to something less provocative. He said nervously,

    "I learned something, um, I will only be in the third year after the summer vacation, so there are still many things I don''t understand¨C"

    The kitchen was plunged into a weird silence again. Dudley pretended that he didn''t care about this topic, but his ears betrayed his curiosity. Aunt Petunia stared at the greasy tes on the table, with a nk expression on her face, but her eyes were cold and hard.

    And Uncle Vernon, his two fists the size of sandbags on the table, clenched tightly, trying to digest the shame of having to talk about this.

    This weird picture was horrifying, and Harry felt a surge of nausea in his stomach. He wished he could escape from this nightmare, and go back to his normal life of being ignored and mistreated by the Dursleys. He didn''t mind if he had to starve for a few days, as long as he could get rid of this awkward and ufortable situation as soon as possible.

    But deep in his heart, Harry was also a bit curious and eager to know why Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who hated magic so much, had decided to break their silence and talk to him about it. What had changed their minds? What did they want from him?

    "Huh¨Ckid¨C"

    Finally, Uncle Vernon spoke again, his voice hoarse and raspy. He looked like he was struggling to find the right words, and he avoided Harry''s gaze. But his question made Harry more confused, and even a little scared.

    "¨CDo you have a way to treat people there."

    ****************************************

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0121 Vernonâ€™s Boss

    0121 Vernon¡¯s Boss

    Harry didn''t answer the question right away, in fact, he was still in a state of shock that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had mentioned magic on their own, without any provocation from him. The confusion and disbelief in his eyes seemed to be a mockery and provocation in Uncle Vernon''s eyes, and this also further pushed Uncle Vernon''s tense nerves to the brink of breaking. Harry could see the veins on his uncle''s forehead throbbing, and his face turning redder by the second.

    "Answer my question, boy¨C"

    Uncle Vernon finally stopped suppressing himself, he roared at Harry loudly, his voice echoing in the small kitchen. Hearing this familiar roar, Harry felt a bit morefortable, as if everything was back to normal. He knew how to deal with his uncle''s anger, he had done it for years.

    "If you mean some minor problems, such as pimples, insomnia or some light injuries, maybe I can handle them¨C"

    Harry hurriedly said, trying to sound calm and reasonable. No one likes the feeling of hunger, and that''s the same for everyone, if possible, Harry would also try to avoid offending the Dursleys, even if they don''t like each other. Although he didn''t know why they were interested in this, he still answered the question truthfully, hoping that they would leave him alone after that.

    "Is that all you can do?"

    Dudley''s sneer cut through the air, making Harry''s ears ring. Aunt Petunia joined the topic, and looked at him suspiciously, her thin lips pursed tightly. She leaned forward, as if trying to read Harry''s mind.

    "What about more serious problems?"

    To be honest, Aunt Petunia''s question made Harry a bit unhappy, he was just a young wizard who had just graduated from second grade, what did they expect him to do? Moreover, when ites to healing, it''s hard to get around potions, and potions are the subject that Harry is least good at among all the magic subjects! He had barely passed the exams, thanks to Hermione''s help and notes.

    "¨CMore serious problems, if you mean poisoning"

    Harry remembered that in the first year of potions ss, Snape seemed to mention something that had a strong detoxifying effect. It was a nt called bezoar, and it could cure most poisons. Harry frowned and racked his brains, trying to recall the details. The reason why he was so hard thinking was not because Harry was eager to show off in front of the Dursleys, but because he didn''t want to give the Dursleys a chance to mock magic because of hisck of magic skills. He wanted to prove to them that magic was not useless, that it could do amazing things, that it was part of who he was.

    At this moment, Harry suddenly missed Hermione a bit, if it was Hermione facing the Dursleys'' questions, Harry was sure that her answer would make the Dursleys dumbfounded. She would have listed all the possible ways to heal various ailments, from spells to potions to charms, and she would have cited the sources and examples with ease. She would have made the Dursleys feel ignorant and foolish, and Harry would have enjoyed watching their expressions.

    "Not poisoning, boy!"

    Uncle Vernon, who was purple-faced, shouted, interrupting Harry''s thoughts.

    "It seems that those tricks can''t make you smarter, can they!"

    Harry, who was sprayed with saliva, immediately looked cold, he stared back at Uncle Vernon''s eyes, and said unhappily,

    "Wizards can deal with a lot of problems, how do I know what you want to ask!"

    He had had enough of their questions, their insults, their disdain. He felt a surge of anger and defiance in his chest, and he wished he could use his wand to hex them all. But he knew he couldn''t, he knew he had to follow the rules, he had to endure until he could go back to Hogwarts.

    "Let me talk to him, Vernon."

    Aunt Petunia stood up nervously as soon as Harry finished that sentence, and before Uncle Vernon exploded, she drove Uncle Vernon and reluctant Dudley to the living room, telling them to watch TV and calm down. Then she returned to the kitchen, ring at Harry, who was not convinced, and said sternly,

    "You should show respect to every member of this family, if it weren''t for our mercy to take you in, your best oue would be to be a homeless person who can only sleep under the bridge!"

    Facing Aunt Petunia''s scolding, Harry kept his face silent, because he had heard simr words countless times over the years.

    Whenever Harry showed a questioning attitude in front of them, they would say so mercilessly, as if if it weren''t for their shelter, his final fate would be to be locked up in a muggle prison.

    They never cared about him, they never loved him, they only saw him as a burden and a freak. Harry knew that, and he hated them for that.

    In the next ten minutes, the scolding came at Harry like a storm, of course, they were all old and clich¨¦d words, even Dudley, who loved to see Harry being scolded, yawned and moved his steps to the living room to turn on another TV. He was bored of his mother''s nagging, and he wanted to watch something more interesting, like a wrestling match or a car chase.

    Taking advantage of Aunt Petunia''s tiredness and gasping, Harry, who had only a trace of reason left and insisted on not leaving directly, asked gloomily,

    "What do you want to do?"

    Facing Harry''s question, Aunt Petunia didn''t answer right away, but kept a strange silence, Harry could see that talking about this might take a lot of courage for them.

    "I''ve heard before¨C"

    Just as Harry couldn''t help but urge again, Aunt Petunia finally opened her mouth, she spoke in a slow and hesitant tone, and when she spoke, her already long horse face stretched even longer, as if she was trying to avoid looking at Harry directly.

    "You have a hospital there, specializing in treating various¡­ difficult andplicated diseases and whatnot¨C"

    ''A hospital for treating difficult andplicated diseases?''

    Harry''s eyes showed confusion, he wondered if there was such a ce in the wizarding world. He had never heard of it before, he had never seen anyone get seriously ill or injured in his two years at Hogwarts. The only time he had visited the hospital wing was when he had broken his arm during a Quidditch match, and Madam Pomfrey had fixed it in a matter of seconds.

    But soon, Harry realized that the question he was struggling with was very stupid, of course the wizarding world should have a hospital, he just didn''t hear about it, just likest year he learned from Malfoy''s mouth that there was a prison in the wizarding world that would make wizards feel terrified just by mentioning its name, called Azkaban.

    In fact, these things are just the simplestmon sense for children who grew up in wizarding families, Harry believed that Ron must know the name of the hospital in the wizarding world, it''s just that for a little wizard like him who grew up in the muggle world, it''s a novelty.

    He wished he could ask Ron or Hermione about it, but he knew he couldn''t, he had to wait until the summer was over and he could return to his real home.

    "If I remember correctly, it should be called St. Mungo''s¨C"

    Aunt Petunia tried to say it lightly, to cover up the pain and shame of bringing up those unbearable past.

    "How do you know?"

    Harry was about to ask in surprise, but he reacted quickly and shut his mouth, because he realized that the person in front of him was his mother''s sister, if his mother''s teenage years were not living in a family as bad as his, she must have talked about the wonderful magic world in front of her family many times.

    "Oh, well you''re right, it''s called that."

    Harry said a bit nervously, hoping that Aunt Petunia wouldn''t notice his lie. There was no doubt that he lied, because he didn''t know the name of the hospital at all, and the reason why he lied was very simple, first, he wanted to figure out why the Dursleys would talk to him about the magic world, second, it was the strange pride. He was the one who received the orthodox magic education at Hogwarts, but Aunt Petunia knew something that he didn''t know, which made Harry a bit uneptable. He felt a surge of jealousy in his chest, and he wished he could know more about his parents and their world.

    Ahem¨C

    In the living room, Uncle Vernon, who was watching TV with Dudley, coughed heavily, and Aunt Petunia in the kitchen immediately knew that she should speed up the process, she took a deep breath, looked down, and looked expressionlessly at the pair of green eyes that always made her unhappy, and said in a calm tone,

    "I think you should remember thepany your uncle works for, right?"

    "Grunnings, they make drills."

    Harry nced at the living room and said quickly, feeling a bit impatient. He didn''t care about his uncle''s work, he didn''t care about drills, he didn''t care about anything that had to do with the muggle world. He wanted to know what this was all about, what they wanted from him, what they expected him to do.

    Aunt Petunia nodded slightly, looking satisfied, as if she had passed a test. She leaned forward, as if trying to get closer to Harry, and lowered her voice, as if afraid of being overheard by her husband and son.

    "Then you should also remember who the owner of thispany is, right, we''ve mentioned him many times when we talked about your uncle''s work at home¨C"

    This time, Harry didn''t answer so smoothly, he frowned and thought for a while before saying slowly,

    "ude Watson. What about him?"

    He vaguely remembered the name, he had heard it a few times when the Dursleys were bragging about their social status and connections.

    "He has cancer."

    Aunt Petunia said heavily, dropping the bombshell that made Harry''s eyes widen in shock. He didn''t know much about cancer, he had only heard of it as a deadly incurable disease that affected muggles.

    **************

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0122 Reasons

    0122 Reasons

    ude Watson - the boss of the drillingpany where Uncle Vernon works.

    It was a name that he had heard countless times from his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, who had taken him in reluctantly after his parents died. ude Watson was the boss of Grunnings, the drillingpany where Uncle Vernon worked as a director. He was a man of great importance and influence in the Muggle world, or so the Dursleys imed.

    If this had been two or three years ago, before Harry discovered that he was a wizard and started attending Hogwarts, he would have been able to say ude Watson''s name without hesitation, even though he had never seen his face. That was not surprising, considering how often the Dursleys talked about him and his achievements. In fact, the word ''often'' was an understatement. The Dursleys practically worshipped ude Watson and never missed an opportunity to praise him.

    Whenever they discussed the generous benefits that Uncle Vernon''spany offered, or the impressive growth that thepany had achieved over the years, Uncle Vernon always spoke with the utmost respect and admiration about ude Watson and his wise and brilliant decisions. He sounded like a loyal and devoted follower, eager to please his leader and emte his sess. Harry could not help but think of an inappropriateparison. He suddenly remembered the house-elf named Dobby, who belonged to the Malfoy family, a group of evil wizards that Harry had encounteredst year. Dobby had the same attitude when he talked to Harry, calling him a great and noble wizard, even though Harry felt he had done nothing to deserve such praise.

    But since Harry had entered the magical world and spent two summer vacations away from the Dursleys, he had not heard them mention ude Watson much. He had assumed that they had lost interest in him, or that he had retired. He was wrong. It turned out that ude Watson had been diagnosed with a terminal illness that had no cure in the Muggle world. He had been suffering from a rare and aggressive form of cancer that had spread throughout his body.

    "Oh, that''s unfortunate -" Harry frowned and said in surprise, "When did it happen?"

    "Two years. Or three or four years?" Aunt Petunia said dryly, as if she did not care about the exact date. "Anyway, this news only became known in your uncle''spany recently. Before that, Vernon and his colleagues always wondered why Mr. Watson did not show up at the office often. He used toe every day, assign work tasks to Vernon and them, and tell them the direction of their efforts."

    Harry realized what the Dursleys had in mind. They wanted him to use his magic to heal ude Watson, the owner of Grunnings. They expected him to break the wizardingw and jeopardize his own future for their greedy benefit. Harry was well aware of the penalty for viting thatw. He had gotten a warning letter from the Ministry of Magic the previous summer, when he had flown his uncle''s car with Ron to escape from the Dursleys'' house. They had locked him in his room and tried to prevent him from going to Hogwarts. The letter, written by Mafalda Hopkirk and delivered by a flock of owls, reminded Harry that he had breached the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and that he would be expelled if he did it again. (source ;Books)

    "We are not allowed to show magic to Muggles. I mean, people who don''t understand magic. You know, you''ve seen it. Last summer, I received a warning letter." Harry said firmly, hoping to end the conversation.

    "About that, I have discussed with Vernon -" Aunt Petunia said breathlessly, ignoring Harry''s protest. "If someone troubles you, we will help you exin. Vernon''s many colleagues are trying their best to find doctors with high medical skills. Of course, the possibility of curing that kind of disease is not great, but as long as they can help Mr. Watson survive for two more days, or recover some spirits. You understand what we mean, Vernon has been working as a director for some years, and he is very capable. He should show his talents in a higher position."

    Aunt Petunia repeated with a heavier tone, as if she was trying to persuade Harry and herself. "We think you should do something about this. I think you might think so too. After all, without us, you would be on the street!"

    Harry was sending out messages of resistance all over his body. To be honest, he didn''t want to get involved in this trouble, but Aunt Petunia, who had already opened the topic, seemed unwilling to let go of this opportunity.

    "There must be people who have had this disease in your ce, right? How does that hospital called St. Mungo''s deal with it? The money matters are up to me and Vernon. As long as they cane up with some medicine that works!" Aunt Petunia said desperately, clutching Harry''s arm.

    Harry Potter felt a pang of doubt and confusion as he listened to Aunt Petunia''s question. He did not know how capable St. Mungo''s Hospital was. He was wondering about another question, one that he had never thought of before. Were there any wizards who had suffered from cancer?

    Harry racked his brain for any information that he had learned from the magical world since he had firste into contact with it two years ago. But whether it was the casual conversations that he had with his friends and ssmates, the wizarding magazines and newspapers that he had read in the library or themon room, the off-topic talks that the professors sometimes gave in their sses, or the times that he hadin in the hospital wing and listened to Madam Pomfrey''s nagging about the strange diseases that the young wizards had contracted in the past, none of them seemed to have anything to do with this.

    Harry''s long silence made Uncle Vernon, who was worried about his future, impatient.

    "You have to be grateful, kid!"

    Uncle Vernon''s voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. He saw his uncle''s face turn red with anger and frustration. He heard him stomp on the wooden floor of the living room, making the furniture shake and the pictures rattle. He watched him m his fist on the door frame of the kitchen, making it crack and splinter.

    "We saved you from starving!" Uncle Vernon roared at Harry, as he stood at the kitchen door and red at him. "We gave you clothes to wear, let you go to school, and gave you Dudley''s old bedroom. If you know how to spell the word ''grateful'', you should be happy to agree to this!"

    Harry felt a surge of resentment and defiance. He wanted to retort that the Dursleys had only adopted him because the Mugglew required them to do so, that they had only let him go to school because it was free, and that the clothes and the bedroom were all Dudley''s cast-offs that he had outgrown or broken. He wanted to remind them that they had treated him like a ve and a freak for ten years, until he received his letter from Hogwarts. He wanted to tell them that they had no right to ask him for anything, let alone something so dangerous and illegal.

    But he bit his tongue and kept silent. He knew that if he said anything like that, the Dursleys would lock him in the cupboard under the stairs with an iron chain and never let him out. They would not let him go back to Hogwarts.

    "I have a condition -"

    Harry finally said, breaking the tense silence. He raised his head and looked at Uncle Vernon, who was panting and sweating. He spoke in a gloomy and reluctant tone,

    "You have to give me back my magic books. I need to finish my summer homework!"

    "How dare you make conditions!"

    Uncle Vernon bellowed, as he mmed the door frame that was about to fall apart. He yelled, "Look at you, don''t know how to be grateful, just like-, I knew your true colors a long time ago, kid!"

    "Vernon, the neighbors will hear -" Aunt Petunia whispered a warning, as she looked around nervously. She did not want anyone to know about their abnormal nephew and his abnormal request. She then looked at Harry, with a cold and dry stare. Her chest was heaving, and it seemed that Harry''s ungrateful attitude also made her angry.

    But Harry did not back down. He had had enough of the days when he hid under the bed at night and wrote his summer homework by shlight. He had to take this opportunity to get back all his magic books, or he would fall behind in his studies. He could imagine that when school started next term, his potion teacher, Professor Snape, who hated him with a passion, would not let him go easily. He would deduct points from his house, or give him detention, or worse.

    "You have to promise -"

    Aunt Petunia finally gave in. She turned pale and gritted her teeth, as she said, "You won''t make any weird noises, and you won''t mention anything about your side in front of the neighbors!"

    "No problem!"

    Harry said quickly, feeling a sense of victory. It was not easy to make the Dursleys give in, even a little bit. But he immediately added, "I have to go and see this Mr. Watson''s situation first -"

    Under Aunt Petunia''s sudden alert gaze, Harry shrugged and said, "Only by figuring out the situation can I ask my friends to find out."

    "Okay -"

    This was a reasonable request, and even Uncle Vernon could not find any fault with it. He gasped and said reluctantly, "I and your aunt and Dudley n to visit him tomorrow. You can go with us, but I warn you, kid,"

    Uncle Vernon bent down his oppressive huge body, and his eyes shed with threat. He said, "Mr. Watson is a very decent gentleman. If you dare to make any trouble in his house, kid, I promise you will regret being born!"

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0123 Watson Manor

    0123 Watson Manor

    "Why did I take on this task?" Harry muttered to himself as hey on his narrow bed, feeling every bone in his body ache. He had just endured a long and exhausting day, and he wished he could erase it from his memory. He took off his round sses and closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep quickly and forget his troubles.

    The reason why he was so tired was not because today was the day of the big cleanup, when he had to scrub the floors, dust the furniture, and wash the dishes for the Dursleys. Nor was it because he had been busy in the garden all day, trimming thewn, sprinkling manure on the delicate flowers in the flowerbed surrounded by the fence, and dodging the angry bees that buzzed around his head. In fact, the Dursleys didn''t assign him any household chores today.

    It was because, since the matter was settled at breakfast, in order to avoid Harry making a mistake when visiting the Watson Manor tomorrow, they gave him an emergency training.

    From the posture of walking, the expression of smiling, the tone of greeting to the etiquette of dining, they tirelessly and endlessly told him all kinds of details, which were as boring and tedious as the only ghost professor''s history of magic course at Hogwarts. Harry had to practice how to shake hands, how to bow, how topliment, how to eat with a fork and knife, and how to avoid any mention of his magical school.

    The bedroom light was off, but the living room downstairs was still brightly lit, and there was a rustling noise from time to time, which was Aunt Petunia making a decent dress for Harry urgently. Before going to bed, they realized that Harry didn''t seem to have a decent dress that was suitable for visiting those upper-ss people. He only had his old and worn-out clothes, which he had inherited from his cousin Dudley, who was much bigger and fatter than him.

    It was toote to go out and buy one now that the night was deep and the shops were closed. After a lot of fuss, Aunt Petunia, who suddenly became much smarter for her husband''s future and the family''s wealthy life, remembered the dress they had prepared for Dudleyst summer to entertain the Mason couple, the builders. The Masons were another potential client of Uncle Vernon, and he had invited them to dinner at their house, hoping to seal the deal with them.

    That brand-new dress Dudley only wore once and never wore again, because with the speed of Dudley''s body expansion, he rarely had clothes that couldst for two years. It was a dark blue suit, with a white shirt, a red tie, and shiny ck shoes. It was supposed to make Dudley look elegant and mature, but it only made him look like a giant balloon.

    Now, Aunt Petunia only needed to cut open that dress and sew it up, and she could make two or three dresses for Harry with those fabrics. She was not very skilled at sewing, but she was very fast and determined. She used scissors, needles, threads, and pins to transform the suit into something that could barely fit Harry''s slim figure. She didn''t care about the quality or the style, as long as it looked decent enough to fool the Watsons.

    "Why did I have to take on this task!" Harry buried his head in the quilt and hammered the bed with regret, but in fact, he knew the reason. He had agreed to go with the Dursleys to the Watson Manor, not because he wanted to please them or to help them, but because he had a n of his own.

    Not only because this was a great opportunity to get back his magic books and flying broom, which the Dursleys had locked away in the cupboard under the stairs, fearing that Harry would use them to cause trouble. Harry had missed his books and his broom terribly, especially since he had not received any letters from his friends at Hogwarts for the whole summer.

    But also because he wanted to teach the Dursleys a lesson. The Dursleys always treated magic with the most contemptuous attitude, they always called magic a trick to fool people, a freakish and unnatural thing. Harry was very angry about this, but helpless, as he was not allowed to use magic outside of school, under the threat of expulsion. But the appearance of this matter gave Harry a chance, if he could really y a role, then the Dursleys might be able to take magic a little more seriously.

    In this way, before he graduated from Hogwarts, the few summers he had to go through might be a little better than now. He might be able to get more freedom, more privacy, more respect, and more fun.

    Harry thought so, and fell asleep with the mechanical cutting sound.

    "I hope you all understand the importance of today''s visit!"

    Early the next morning, when the golden sun was still a bit cold, everyone in the house gathered in the living room and listened to the speech of the man of the house. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best suit, a dark gray one with a purple tie. He hadbed his hair carefully, and he had shaved his mustache neatly. He looked nervous and excited, and he spoke with a loud and authoritative voice.

    "Last year at this time, if I could have made that order, then we should have been living in a luxury vi on Mallorca Ind by now, but because of some idents, we lost that great opportunity to change our fate!"

    Harry lowered his head, wearing a dress for the first time in his life, and feeling a bit ufortable all over. He knew what Uncle Vernon was talking about, but it wasn''t his fault, who could have expected Dobby to show up at home at that time, and in order to stop him from going back to Hogwarts, he threw a whole cake on the heads of that Muggle couple?

    It was obvious that visiting Mr. Watson made the Dursleys nervous. On the way to the Watson Manor in the rich area of Mayfair in Westminster, London, the car was quiet and depressing, even Dudley was constantly adjusting his fancy bow tie on his invisible neck, but he didn''t dare to ask a word, apparently, he knew this was not a ce where he could act spoiled and show his personality. Harry, who was squeezed by Dudley to the side of the car door, was also affected by this atmosphere, and felt a little nervous. He tried hard to recall how Madam Pomfrey always asked him about his problems when he stayed in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He wished he could be there now, instead of being dragged to this boring and awkward visit.

    As soon as they entered the Westminster Mayfair area, the sky seemed to be bluer. The air was fresh and clean, and the streets were wide and elegant. The houses wererge and luxurious, with beautiful gardens and fountains. The people were well-dressed and refined, walking their dogs, riding their bikes, or chatting with their friends. Compared to other residential areas in London, there were very few people here, and the fresh air was filled with a refreshing rose fragrance. Harry could smell the flowers, and he felt a slight headache. He was not used to such a strong scent.

    Aunt Petunia opened the window and looked at therge green grasnds on both sides of the road with envy and jealousy. She admired thedies who were holding expensive dogs and talking andughingfortably on the grass, without having to worry about housework. This kind of life was what she dreamed of. She imagined herself living in one of those mansions, wearing a silk dress, a pearl ne, and a hat with a feather.

    At the end of the spotless road, a huge white mansion with gold decorations stood out in the sun, reflecting a dazzling brilliance. It was the Watson Manor, one of the most prestigious and exclusive residence in the area.

    In the middle of the neatwn in front of the mansion, there was a huge fountain that sprayed water up to sixty feet high. The water sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight, and created a rainbow in the air. Around the wall, there was a row of neat maple trees, and dozens of gardeners were climbing up and down on those trees, busy trimming the overgrown branches and leaves. They wore green uniforms, and carried scissors, saws, and baskets. They worked silently and efficiently, making sure that every leaf and twig was in perfect shape.

    "This is it¨C"

    Uncle Vernon lowered his voice and said, as he parked the car near the gate. He looked at the mansion with awe and admiration, and he felt a surge of excitement and anxiety.

    Dudley greedily looked at all this, his fat face stuck to the window and deformed, while Harry was not interested. Indeed, this mansion was one of the most luxurious houses he had ever seen, but in his heart, the Hogwarts castle was his paradise.

    "I''m Vernon Dursley, I''m here to visit Mr. Watson, we have an appointment¨C"

    Harry looked at the stern-faced guard in front of the big iron gate, and Uncle Vernon, who was trembling, suddenly felt likeughing. To be honest, he had never seen Uncle Vernon talk to anyone in this tone. Uncle Vernon was usually loud and rude, and he liked to bully and boss people around.

    But now, Uncle Vernon was acting like a polite and humble guest, and he was trying to please the guard, who looked at him with scrutiny and suspicion. He checked his name on a list, and he nodded slightly. He pressed a button, and the gate opened slowly. He gestured for them to enter, and he said coldly, "Follow the path, and wait at the door. Someone wille to greet you."

    Since outside vehicles were not allowed to enter the mansion, Harry had to follow the Dursleys, who were holding flowers and fruit baskets, and walk towards the mansion. They walked along the straight road paved with warm stone, which felt smooth and soft under their feet. They passed by statues, hedges, and flower beds, which were arranged in symmetrical and harmonious patterns.

    Perhaps because of the serious illness of the owner of the mansion, the closer they got to the mansion, the more solemn the air became. Even the workers who passed by them and bowed to them had very serious expressions on their faces. They spoke in low voices, and moved quickly and efficiently.

    Through all this, Harry probably understood that the owner of the mansion was in a very bad physical condition.

    "Ah, Mr. Lawrence¨C" Uncle Vernon, whose red face was covered with sweat, suddenly eximed with joy. He left behind Aunt Petunia, who was walking stiffly, and walked towards a thin man with shiny hair, a small mustache above his lips, wearing a suit without a wrinkle, who looked quite old. He was standing at the door of the mansion, and he was holding a clipboard and a pen, and he seemed to be in charge of everything.

    "That''s Mr. Watson''s butler,"

    Aunt Petunia whispered, tilting her head slightly.

    "He has been conveying Mr. Watson''s instructions for the past two years, very trusted, remember to be respectful to him, especially you!"

    Harry of course knew who the ''you'' in Aunt Petunia''s reminder was. He nced at the butler and wondered why he suddenly thought of the very unpopr castle caretaker Filch at Hogwarts.

    ''Maybe they both do simr jobs¨C''

    Harry, who barely squeezed out a smile at Lawrence, thought to himself.

    ******************************************

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0124 Photo

    0124 Photo

    The interior decoration of the house was worthy of its magnificent and luxurious appearance. Every piece of mahogany floor in the spacious living room was shiny and new, as if it had been wiped with a stain remover. Arge chandelier made of thousands of pure crystals hung from the fifty-foot-high ceiling, emitting a dazzling brilliance under the sunlight that entered the room through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The walls were adorned with exquisite paintings and sculptures, disying the refined taste and wealth of the owner. The furniture was elegant andfortable, inviting the guests to sit and rx.

    The mansion steward Lawrence led the terrified Dursley family to the right side of the living room, bypassing a few bends and stopping in front of an elevator hall. Vertical elevators are usually only found in Muggle malls and high-rise office buildings. The fact that there was an elevator in this building surprised even Harry, who thought that Uncle Vernon''s boss must be a very rich guy.

    "Sorry, Vernon¨C"

    The elevator dinged and stopped on the third floor. After they got out of the elevator car, the mansion steward Lawrence turned his head and looked at the Dursleys, who only showed ttering smiles, and apologized. His voice was polite but distant, as if he was used to dealing with all kinds of guests. He wore a neat suit and a badge with his name and position on his chest. He had a thin face and a pair of sses that made him look smart and serious.

    "Mr. Watson is currently undergoing treatment. ording to the doctor''s instructions, he will be able to see you in about an hour. Can I trouble you to wait in the reception room for a while?"

    "Of course not, Mr. Lawrence!"

    Uncle Vernon nodded repeatedly. "We''ll follow your arrangements!"

    He tried to sound confident and friendly, but his voice betrayed his nervousness and anxiety. He hoped that Mr. Watson would be in a good mood and appreciate his visit.

    After several young maids served them tea and closed the door of the reception room, there was a sigh of relief in the elegantly decorated reception room. Uncle Vernon, who had been holding his big belly for a long time, copsed on the soft sofa. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief and took a deep breath. He felt like he had just escaped a dangerous situation. He looked around the reception room, admiring the expensive ornaments and the cozy atmosphere. He felt a surge of pride and envy. He wished he could live in such a ce someday.

    "This house is really luxurious, Vernon!"

    Aunt Petunia''s voice trembled with excitement. She was sitting next to Uncle Vernon, holding his hand and smiling brightly. She was wearing a new dress and a pearl ne that she had bought specially for this asion. She wanted to impress Mr. Watson and his family with her appearance and manners. She also wanted to show off to her friends and neighborster. She imagined their jealous and admiring faces, and felt a thrill of satisfaction.

    "I dare say, if Yvonne knew I had been a guest in such a magnificent mansion, she would be jealous to death."

    Harry raised his eyelids. Yvonne was Aunt Petunia''s good friend. They both loved to gossip about their neighbors. They often exchanged phone calls and visited each other''s houses, pretending to be friendly and caring, but secretlypeting and criticizing. Harry hated them both.

    "Mr. Watson inherited this mansion and the drillingpany from his father¨C"

    Uncle Vernon said to Aunt Petunia and Dudley.

    "He was only in his early twenties at the time, and everyone looked down on him. They thought he would ruin thepany, which was already in a bad situation. But who would have thought that he would lead thepany out of the mud with his own intelligence and diligence¨C"

    Actually, Uncle Vernon had said these things countless times at home, and even Harry knew them by heart. But Uncle Vernon never got tired of telling them over and over again. He admired Mr. Watson as his idol and wanted to be like him, sessful and powerful.

    "He''s really admirable¨Chow did I do, Mom and Dad?"

    Dudley stood up and tried to smooth out the wrinkles on his stomach, but after a few attempts, he knew he was wasting his time. He raised his head and showed a ''disgusting'' smile, looking at his parents. He was wearing a suit that was too tight and too small for him, making him look like a stuffed sausage. He had practiced his speech and his gestures in front of the mirror for hours, hoping to impress Mr. Watson.

    "Great, my darling!"

    Aunt Petunia immediately got up and hugged Dudley''s arm, proud tears in her eyes. She kissed his cheek and stroked his hair, as if he had just won a Nobel Prize. She thought that Dudley was the most wonderful and handsome boy in the world. She loved him more than anything else. She spoiled him and pampered him, giving him everything he wanted and more.

    "Not a bit rude, a standard little gentleman!"

    "Just like his dad, who''s seen a lot of big scenes!"

    Uncle Vernon also chuckled. He patted Dudley''s shoulder and winked at him, as if they were sharing a secret. He thought that Dudley was the most talented and promising boy in the world. He believed that he would follow his footsteps, and that he would be sessful more than him someday.

    Dudley proudly shook his chin. He looked at Harry, who was sitting there silently and expressionlessly, and a malicious light shed in his small eyes.

    "Oh, but I think we have someone here who seems to be scared silly, don''t we!"

    "Even if I were scared silly-!"

    Harry, who immediately understood who Dudley was talking about, said angrily. He saw that the Dursleys seemed ready to scold him, so he preempted dudley by saying quickly.

    "You told me many times yesterday that without your permission, I''m not allowed to move around or say a word!"

    "Fine, boy, you have some memory!"

    Uncle Vernon gasped, muttered, but then his tone became arrogant again.

    "You know what to do when you meet Mr. Watson, don''t you?"

    "Yes." Harry said sullenly. "Observe Mr. Watson''s physical condition carefully, and listen carefully when you ask him about his health in a clever way."

    "Good."

    Uncle Vernon gulped down the ck tea in the exquisite teacup, nodded satisfactorily. He felt the warm liquid soothe his throat and calm his nerves. He had been waiting for this moment for a long time, and he didn''t want to miss his chance. He leaned forward and whispered to Harry, who was sitting across from him,

    "After the meeting, I''ll tell Mr. Watson''s steward that we have a friend who is very good at dealing with this kind of disease. Everyone knows that this disease is incurable, but Lawrence is desperate now. As long as you promise him that you cane up with a way to make Mr. Watson feel a little better, he will persuade Mr. Watson to try!"

    When Uncle Vernon told him his specific request yesterday, the first thing that came to Harry''s mind was the stimnt potion. It was safe and harmless, and verymon in the wizarding world. It could boost the energy and mood of the drinker, and make them feel more alert and lively. It was not a cure, but it could at least give Mr. Watson some temporary relief.

    Harry believed that if he sent a letter to Ron, he could easily get him arge jar. Ron was his best friend, and he knew that he would help him without hesitation.

    Of course, the biggest problem was still whether giving a wizard''s potion to an unsuspecting Muggle would vite the wizard''s secrecyw, and how serious the situation was. Harry had learned from his school, Hogwarts, that there were strict rules and regtions about the use of magic in the Muggle world, and that there were severe consequences for breaking them.

    On the way here, Harry was still thinking about these questions. ording to his guess, this should not be a very serious offense. Think about it, how many Muggle-born wizards are there in the wizarding world now? Those wizards have Muggle rtives, and what if their rtives have some problems that Muggle hospitals are not good at treating? They would probably resort to magic.

    Harry remembered that Hermione, his other best friend, was a Muggle-born, and that she had once told him that she had used magic to fix her parents'' teeth. She had said that it was a minor thing, and that no one would notice or care. Harry hoped that she was right, and that he could do the same thing for Mr. Watson.

    What helped him decide to do this without fear of punishment was also another thing. That was when he started his second year, because Dobby, the house-elf who wanted to stop him from going back to Hogwarts, blocked the tform nine and three-quarters, he and Ron missed the Hogwarts Express.

    They had no choice but to drive Mr. Weasley''s modified car to Hogwarts. The car was a blue Ford Anglia, and it had been enchanted by Mr. Weasley to fly and be invisible. It was a clear vition of the wizard''s secrecyw, and it had caused a lot of trouble andmotion. Harry and Ron had been seen by several Muggles, and they had crashed into a giant tree called the Whomping Willow, which had attacked them and the car. They had been lucky to escape with their lives, and they had been scolded and punished by the school and the Ministry.

    Harry learned an important lesson from that adventure. He discovered that Mr. Weasley, who was supposed to enforce thew against tampering with Muggle things, was actually fascinated by Muggle inventions and culture. He even had a collection of Muggle gadgets and books that he kept hidden. This made Harry realize that the wizarding world was not as strict and uniform as it seemed. There were probably many wizards who had their own hobbies, passions, and quirks that broke the wizardingws in private, as long as they did not harm anyone, no one will care about such things.

    "Oh,e and look at this picture, Petunia and Dudley!"

    Waiting was always long and boring. Uncle Vernon, who had nothing to do, looked at thememorative photos hanging on the walls of the reception room. He stopped in front of a ck and white photo at the door and pointed at it.

    It was a group photo of Mr. Watson and his employees, taken many years ago, when he had just taken over thepany. They were all smiling and posing in front of arge sign that read "Grunnings Drilling Company".

    Vernon was among them, standing next to Mr. Watson, looking young and happy. He felt a surge of nostalgia and pride, as he remembered the good old days, when he had joined thepany as a junior manager, and when he had met Mr. Watson for the first time.

    "This is a group photo of Mr. Watson and everyone when he just took over thepany. He was handsome and charming, and many girls in thepany admired him. Ah, I was so thin then, less than two hundred pounds!"

    He chuckled and rubbed his belly, as if he was trying to make it smaller.

    ''Yeah, just more than twice my weight¨C''

    Harry looked at Uncle Vernon''s fat body and nodded sympathetically. He felt sorry for him, but not in a good way.

    The Dursley''s house was full of Dudley''s pictures, but there were very few of them as a couple, and they were basically in their bedroom. That ce and Dudley''s bedroom were absolutely forbidden for Harry to enter. Before he went to Hogwarts, those two rooms were cleaned by Aunt Petunia herself. She had never let Harry touch anything that belonged to her or her son, and she had always kept them away from him.

    Looking at the three people who were talking enthusiastically in front of the picture, Harry, who was sitting quietly in his chair, also felt a bit curious.

    As Harry wondered if Uncle Vernon was really a little thinner than a whale when he was young, the door of the reception room opened quietly. The old steward who had led them before appeared again, but there was a deep worry on his brow.

    "Mr. Watson is very tired, Vernon. It''s best to keep the meeting time within ten minutes."

    Uncle Vernon nodded and bowed, and as soon as the old steward left the reception room, he turned his head and gestured for Harry to follow him. He gave him a stern and menacing look, as if he was warning him to behave.

    "Come on, boy, this ce is huge. If you get lost, you might starve to death before the staff here find you!" he snapped.

    Harry wished he could take the Dursleys to Hogwarts for a tour, so that they could see what a magnificent castle it was. He got up slowly and walked towards the door with a gloomy face. As he passed the picture that Uncle Vernon had mentioned earlier, he nced at it curiously.

    ng!

    Harry gasped, ignoring the bump on his forehead from hitting something, and stared at the man in the middle of the picture, muttering incredulously.

    "Professor Watson?!"

    ******************************************

    Author''s Note: I think there must be a stimnt potion in wizarding world like energy drink but there must be also some which are good for health; Like some potions maybe used by St.mungos hospital regrly to energize the patients. I dont have much knowledge about the medicines so these are just theories.

    ******************************************

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0125 Dying Man

    0125 Dying Man

    Harry had been staring at the name ''ude Watson'' since yesterday morning, trying to find any connection between him and Professor Watson, the former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. But he could not think of anything, except for the coincidence of their surname. After all, Watson was a verymon surname among both Muggles and wizards, just like the name Tom. Harry knew two Toms, one was the most evil wizard in history(for him), and the other was the friendly owner of the Leaky Cauldron. No one would ever suspect that they were rted, right?

    But when Harry saw the photo of ude Watson in the mansion, he felt a jolt of shock. The man in the photo looked almost exactly like Professor Watson, except for the gray hair and the wrinkles on his face. They had the same sharp eyes, the same thin lips, and the same angr jaw. Harry could not help but think of his own father, James Potter, who had died when he was a baby. Everyone who had met his parents would say that Harry had inherited his father''s appearance, except his mothr''s green eyes.

    Harry remembered what Professor Watson had told him once, when they were alone in his office. ''I grew up in an orphanage, Harry. I never knew my parents, or why they abandoned me. I only learned that I was a wizard when I received my letter from Hogwarts. It was the best day of my life.''

    If ude Watson was really Professor Watson''s father, then why did he leave his son in an orphanage? Why did he never look for him, or tell him the truth? Harry felt a surge of anger and sadness for Professor Watson, who had been one of his favorite teachers at Hogwarts.

    Professor Watson had arrived at Hogwarts a year ago, as an investigator appointed by the board of directors to look into the Chamber of Secrets incident. But soon, he became the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, after the previous one, Professor Lockhart, was in hospital bed. Harry, who had experienced three different teachers of this course, could swear that Professor Watson was the best of them all.

    Of course, that was not saying much, considering that the other two teachers, Quirrell and Lockhart, one of whom was possessed by Voldemort, and the other who was proven to be a big liar, being better than these two people, seemed to prove nothing.

    But many senior wizards, and professors of other courses at Hogwarts, praised Professor Watson as the most decent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts in the past decade or so, which proved his strength.

    In addition, Professor Watson was also the most powerful wizard Harry had ever seen.

    He would never forget how he had saved him from the basilisk in the Slytherin Chamber, killing the giant snake with a single spell, as if it was nothing. Of course, Dumbledore must be better than Professor Watson, although Harry had never seen Dumbledore make a move, but he firmly believed so.

    Professor Watson had left Hogwarts soon after the Chamber of Secrets incident was over, without saying goodbye to anyone. He had disappeared as mysteriously as he had appeared, leaving behind many questions and regrets. Harry and his friends, Hermione and Ron, had missed him a lot, but they also respected his choice. They knew that everyone had the right to choose their own path in life, even if it meant leaving behind the people who cared for them.

    As soon as the Dursleys took a few steps away from the old housekeeper, they turned their heads and shot Harry a furious look. He had embarrassed them in front of their host. Dudley, who was always ready to mock Harry, sneered at him with his piggy eyes. But Harry did not care about their reactions. He was too stunned by the photo he had seen in the hallway. It showed a man who looked remarkably like Professor Watson, the former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.

    Harry wondered if the man in the photo was really Professor Watson''s father. If so, why did Professor Watson, who came from such a wealthy and influential family, end up in an orphanage?

    Harry pursed his lips and looked at the old housekeeper named Lawrence who was walking in front of him with curiosity. If it weren''t for the Dursleys'' serious emphasis yesterday that he was not allowed to talk nonsense, he might have rushed up and asked if there was a child missing in this mansion!

    They followed the old housekeeper, whose name was Lawrence, to a room on the top floor. The room was full of people wearing white coats, who looked very serious and busy. They were checking various machines and monitors, which Harry did not understand, but he guessed that they were some kind of Muggle medical devices. Harry wrinkled his nose at the unpleasant smell of medicine and antiseptic that filled the air. He tried to see the face of the man who was lying on the bed, hooked to tubes and wires. But his view was blocked by arge respirator that covered his mouth and nose.

    One by one, the people in white coats left the room, nodding to Lawrence as they passed by. Lawrence led the Dursleys and Harry inside, and told them to stand by the bed. Harry felt a chill as he looked at the man on the bed. He was shocked by his appearance. He looked nothing like the man in the photo. He looked like a skeleton with a thinyer of skin. His hair was shaved off, his eyes were closed, and his skin was pale and dry. He looked more dead than alive. Harry wondered if he was still conscious, or if he could recognize anyone.

    Harry nced at the Dursleys, who looked equally horrified. Uncle Vernon, who had rehearsed many times how to greet his boss, was speechless. His face was red and purple, and he smiled awkwardly. Aunt Petunia, who had nned topliment Mr. Watson on hisplexion, was silent. She clutched her handbag nervously. Dudley, who had never seen anyone so sick and frail, was scared. He hid behind his parents, and whimpered.

    Harry felt a mix of emotions. He felt sorry for the man on the bed, who was suffering so much. But He also felt angry at him, for abandoning his son and leaving him in an orphanage.

    Lawrence told Uncle Vernon that they only had five minutes to talk to Mr. Watson, and then left them alone. Harry stayed behind, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man''s face, or hear his voice. He wondered if he sounded like Professor Watson, or if he had any traces of magic in him.

    But before Harry could see or hear anything, a weak and raspy voice came from the bed. It startled everyone.

    "It seems that my appearance scared you, Vernon-"

    The man with the breathing mask said, barely audible. Harry could not tell his age or his mood from his voice. He sounded like he was in pain, and tired.

    "Your face, I mean your spirit looks good, Mr. Watson."

    Uncle Vernon stammered, trying to sound polite and cheerful. But he failed miserably. He sounded nervous and awkward. He did not know what to say to his boss, who was dying in front of him.

    Uncle Vernon felt a twinge of regret and guilt. He had always admired Mr. Watson, who was a smart and sessful businessman. He had hoped to impress him, and get a promotion. But now, he realized that he had been selfish and greedy. He should not have wanted to take advantage of his boss''s condition, or make him suffer more. He should have let him die peacefully, and with dignity.

    The five minutes passed quickly, and they felt like an eternity. When they walked out of the room, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. They wanted to get away from the depressing sight, and the suffocating atmosphere.

    The old housekeeper Lawrence escorted them back to the gate, where a driver was waiting with Uncle Vernon''s car. While they were waiting, Harry noticed that the Dursleys were all gloomy and quiet. They did not say a word to each other, or to him. Harry took the opportunity to move closer to Lawrence, and asked him in a low voice,

    "Maybe it''s a bit presumptuous to say this, sir, but does Mr. Watson have any children? Why aren''t they with him?"

    The old housekeeper looked at Harry with surprise, and raised his gray eyebrows. He seemed to appreciate Harry''s politeness, but he also sensed his curiosity. He said with a sad tone in his voice,

    "Mr. Watson never married, and children-"

    Harry''s question was cut off by the Dursleys, who heard him and red at him. They thought he was being rude and nosy again. But they did not scold him, or tell him to shut up. They were too shocked and upset by what they had seen. They just wanted to go home, and forget about Mr. Watson.

    The car ride back home was silent and tense. No one spoke a word, or even looked at each other. Harry was lost in his thoughts, wondering about Mr. Watson and Professor Watson. The Dursleys did not bother Harry with their usual questions, such as how much it would cost for the potion that could relieve Mr. Watson. They were too shocked and disturbed by what they had seen in the mansion. They wanted to forget about the dying man.

    The silence continued until they reached their house. Uncle Vernon parked the car in the driveway, and got out without a word. Aunt Petunia and Dudley followed him, leaving Harry behind. Harry grabbed his backpack, and got out of the car. He walked to the front door, feeling ignored and unwanted.

    Uncle Vernon turned on the TV in the living room, and sat on the couch. He watched the morning news that was being reyed, hoping to distract himself from the unpleasant memories. Aunt Petunia went into the kitchen, and started to prepare lunch. She tried to act normal, and pretend that nothing had happened. Dudley opened the refrigerator, and took out arge cake. He stuffed his face with it, and licked his fingers. He did not care about anything, except his own appetite.

    Harry, who was standing at the bottom of the stairs, was unnoticed by everyone. They acted as if he did not exist, or as if he was not there. Harry, who would have been happy with the Dursley''s deliberate ignorance in the past, felt a sudden urge to speak up. He had something important to do, and he needed their permission. He cleared his throat, and said loudly,

    "I need to open Hedwig''s cage-"

    Harry''s voice broke the silence, and startled the Dursleys. They turned their heads, and red at him. They were annoyed and angry that he had interrupted their peace. Uncle Vernon, who was breathing faster and about to roar, and Aunt Petunia, who was ready to scold him, opened their mouths to yell at him. But Harry did not give them a chance. He said firmly, and with a hint of defiance,

    "I need her to help me send a letter."

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    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0126 Visit

    0126 Visit

    July 29th.

    The weather on Sunday morning was as bright and sunny as the day before, and the dazzling sunlight spilled on the clean and tidy road of Privet Drive like liquid gold. The colorful and vivid flowers in the well-kept private gardens on both sides of the road swayed gently in the breeze,peting for beauty and fragrance.

    The air inside the house was a bit stuffy and stale, and Harry kicked everything rted to his Potions homework off the bed with a bang. He turned over and faced the birdcage hanging on the window bars, feeling very annoyed and restless.

    Every year, at this time, Harry''s mood would be very irritable, and the reason was easy to understand. Because thest day of July was his birthday, but his uncle and aunt obviously wouldn''t be considerate enough to throw him a birthday party. Their only way of celebrating his birthday might be to let him do less chores on that day or give him a pair of old socks as a gift.

    But on the eve of his birthday this year, the reason for his irritation was a bit different.

    ng!

    A strange noise from the street outside the window suddenly made Harry jump up. He leaped to the window and looked out, but when he saw that the noise was from a garbage truck collecting the trash cans on the roadside, Harry showed a disappointed expression and sat back on the bed dejectedly.

    "Are you sure you gave him the letter?"

    Hedwig, who had traveled a long distance for several days and was exhausted, was resting in the birdcage. Hearing Harry''s questioning voice, she trembled her eyelids and grumbled a few times in dissatisfaction. Then she hid her head under the other wing and continued to rest, ignoring Harry''s impatience.

    After a heavy sigh, Harry stared at the shadows on the white wall and zoned out. He didn''t notice that, half a minute after he withdrew his gaze, a faint explosion appeared on Privet Drive, followed by a puff of smoke and a sh of light.

    Surrey, Little Whinging, Privet Drive¨C

    Dressed in Muggle clothes, Bryan Watson appeared on the street of Privet Drive with a wand in his hand. As soon as he appeared, he looked around cautiously, checking if any Muggles had seen him. And when he confirmed that there was no one around, he breathed a sigh of relief, put his wand in his pocket, and looked around the surroundings with interest and curiosity.

    Privet Drive No. 7¨C

    A few steps away, a brass que in front of a house told Bryan Watson his exact location. He nced back and forth and confirmed the position of No. 4 Privet Drive, which was mentioned in the letter. Then, he walked towards that side with a leisurely pace, humming a tune under his breath.

    Standing in front of the house of No. 4 Privet Drive, Bryan Watson didn''t rush to cross the garden and knock on the door. Instead, he stood on the street and admired the roses and lilies blooming in the garden. Bathed in the golden sunlight, he smelled the rich fragrance of the flowers and felt a sense of peace and joy. After a while, when he was sure that his heart waspletely calm, Bryan Watson smiled and nodded politely, and knocked on the door softly.

    Knock, knock, knock¨C

    Ten seconds after the gentle knocking sound, there was a hurried footsteps from inside the house. Bryan Watson stepped back and waited quietly for someone to open the door, his expression friendly and warm. The woman who opened the door was very thin, but very tall. Besides, her gloomy long face also impressed Bryan Watson. She had a sharp nose, thin lips, and a pair of cold and narrow eyes that seemed to judge everything she saw.

    "I''m sorry to interrupt your breakfast, ma''am¨C"

    Bryan Watson nced at the steaming spat in Aunt Petunia''s hand and smiled politely.

    "But Harry Potter, who lives in this house, wrote me a letter, telling me some situations, and hoping that I coulde to visit. So¨Coh, of course, if you want me toe at another time, that''s fine too¨C"

    The air fell silent. Aunt Petunia looked at the young man who was five feet away from her. Her eyes went from puzzled to nk, and then from nk to gradually terrified. Finally, before Bryan Watson could greet her again, she let out a horrified scream that pierced the air.

    "You, youe and see, Vernon, I must have seen a ghost!!!"

    Looking at the woman who almost rolled and crawled into the house, Bryan Watson raised his eyebrows and didn''t seem too surprised. In fact, when he saw in Potter''s letter that his uncle was an old employee of that drillpany, he had expected that something like this might happen.

    "So¨C"

    Bryan Watson tilted his head and looked at the chaotic living room. He saw the broken vase, the torn curtains, and the overturned sofa. He shook his head slightly and sighed.

    "Can I pretend that you have warmly invited me into the room?"

    In the kitchen, the dining table had been overturned, and the Dursleys were huddled in the corner, shivering and silent, as they watched the young man walk in. They felt a cold sweat on their foreheads, and their hearts beat faster than ever.

    "Oh, my God!"

    Standing in the living room, Bryan Watson showed a surprised and delighted expression when he saw Potter, who had almost leaped down the stairs. He saw that Harry had grown taller and stronger, and his hair was longer and messier.

    "But it''s only been four months since Ist saw you, Potter, and you''ve grown so much. Did you secretly drink some growth potion?"

    "Professor Watson!"

    Harry, who was panting, looked at the young man who looked almost the same as in his memory, except for his clothes. He wore a blue shirt, a ck jacket, and a pair of jeans. He looked casual and handsome, and his purple eyes sparkled with intelligence and humor. His trembling voice showed his excitement and joy.

    "You really came, I mean, I thought Hedwig had lost the letter I wrote, or that she had mistaken the person!"

    "Hehe, your owl is very smart, Potter¨C"

    Bryan Watson said with a smile. He moved his eyes to the messy kitchen and snapped his fingers. Then, the copsed table creaked and twisted its boards and slowly got up. The bacon and eggs scattered on the floor spun rapidly and bounced off the dust. Then they threw themselves back into the restored te. The cups and tes that had fallen and broken also flew back to their original positions and mended themselves. When everything returned to normal, Bryan Watson looked at the Dursleys who were scared and climbed on the kitchen counter with a slight apology.

    "I''m sorry, folks, I seem to have brought you some fright. But don''t worry, I''m not here to harm you. I used to teach at Hogwarts, and I came to visit him and talk to him about some important matters."

    "Boy, you! Can he really cure him?"

    Uncle Vernon''s small eyes bulged out of his sockets. He stared at Harry as if he had met him for the first time in his life. He remembered the letter that Harry had sent him a few days ago, which said that he had found someone who could cure Mr. Watson his boss. He didn''t believe it at first, but now he saw this young man who could do magic with a snap of his fingers, he felt a glimmer of hope and fear.

    Although he had a lot to say to Professor Watson, the Dursleys'' appearance still made Harry feel amused. He looked at Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who were trembling on the kitchen counter, and Dudley, who was hiding behind them and covering his butt. He remembered how Dudley had tormented him for years, and how his aunt and uncle had treated him like a burden and a freak. He suddenly felt yful and said casually.

    "Yes, I found someone to cure him¨C" Harry nodded and said, "This is what I promised you, remember?"

    "You are Mr. Watson¨C"

    Uncle Vernon said hoarsely. He looked at the young man who called himself a wizard, and felt a chill down his spine. He hoped he was not one of those evil and crazy ones, like the one who gave Dudley a tail.

    "He''s a young man from that side, Vernon¨C"

    Aunt Petunia, who seemed to be more shrewd, buried her face in Uncle Vernon''s broad arm and whispered.

    "He knows their stuff¨C"

    Dudley also muttered something behind Uncle Vernon. He looked at Bryan Watson with a mixture of awe and resentment, and felt a pang of pain in his butt.

    "Come down first, you three¨C"

    Bryan Watson nced at Harry and smiled at the Dursleys. He saw that they were still scared and reluctant, and he decided to act more gentle and friendly.

    "If you don''t mind, we can have breakfast together. I''m still hungry, and I''m sure you are too. And then we can talk about the situation, and see what we can do."

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    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0127 I Know

    0127 I Know

    The kitchen, which had been meticulously cleaned and organized by the diligent Aunt Petunia, was now enveloped in a peculiar atmosphere. This atmosphere seemed to have a stifling effect on the Dursleys, who were the rightful owners of the house at Number Four, Privet Drive. They sat rigidly on one side of the dining table, like wax figures in a museum, not daring to look at Harry, who was anxiously narrating the events that had led to this situation, but at Bryan, who was casually enjoying a fried egg with toast and bacon.

    When Harry mentioned that he was baffled by the possibility of wizards having cancer, a disease that he had only heard of in muggle terms, Bryan put down his knife and fork and looked up at him with a serious expression.

    "No, Potter, wizards don''t get that kind of disease¨C"

    "Why, Professor Watson?"

    Harry interrupted him, still using the title that he had given him when he was the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Even though he knew that Mr. Watson was no longer teaching there, Harry still felt a sense of respect towards him. Harry was curious about the reason behind Bryan''s statement, as he thought that cancer should not discriminate between wizards and muggles. So Facing Professor Watson''s exnation, he showed a puzzled look,

    "This disease, I don''t know much about it, Professor, but I think it shouldn''t matter whether we are wizards or not."

    "It''s because of the magic."

    Bryan swallowed the food in his mouth and calmly said, "This involves the fundamental difference between wizards and muggles, Potter. You see, we and muggles alike, the cells in our bodies are constantly mutating, but our bodies contain a high concentration of magic that muggles do not have.

    Magic is a very amazing force, it is like a unique immune system that only exists in the bodies of wizards. When it detects the diseases that exist naturally, such as viruses, bacteria, or parasites, magic will spontaneously annihte those sources of disease¨C"

    Looking at Potter, who was unconsciously sitting upright, as if he was in ss, Bryan smiled. To be honest, apart from Dumbledore''s unpleasant ''trick'', he had a lot of fun in the few months he returned to Hogwarts in the first half of the year.

    "¨CMost of the sources of disease that do not involve abnormal magic cannot cause wizards to get sick. In addition, magic also has a weak effect of strengthening the physical quality, so you will find that, as long as they are not sick or disaster-prone, most of the wizards with high magic power will basically live a long life."

    "Just like Dumbledore!"

    Harry, who had been a little confused, reacted immediately.

    ''You''re almostpeting with Rubeus Hagrid for the position of Dumbledore''s number one fan, Potter.''

    Bryan secretly rolled his eyes, but smiled and nodded.

    Aunt Petunia, who was sitting opposite the two of them, showed a trace of hard-to-detect envy in her fearful eyes when she heard this, and as the topic evolved, Uncle Vernon, who almost upied half of the other side of the dining table, unconsciously clenched his fists under the table, deliberately suppressing his breathing also slowly increased, it seemed that he had reached the limit of tolerance.

    In fact, if it weren''t for the fact that this young man with a very special temperament had almost the same appearance as Mr. Watson when he was young, he might have already ''politely'' asked him to leave.

    But since it came to this, Uncle Vernon was puzzled again.

    This man should be Mr. Watson''s son¨Cwithout much intelligence, Uncle Vernon figured it out himself. His eyes might have inherited his mother, but his features and that soft gray hair were almost identical to Mr. Watson when he was young. If they weren''t father and son, that would be puzzling!

    But Mr. Watson had no children, which was confirmed by Mr. Watson''s loyal old butler, Mr. Lawrence!

    Uncle Vernon had been in that drillingpany for most of his life, and he knew the family situation of every old employee in thepany, let alone their boss, ude Watson.

    Could it be that Mr. Watson had a bastard son that even his faithful old butler Lawrence didn''t know about?! Uncle Vernon blinked his piggy eyes and felt that he had discovered the explosive truth.

    Then, since Mr. Watson had no other children except this bastard son, why didn''t he try to find him back when he was so sick, after all, he had such a huge family business with no one to inherit? Looking at the young man who was enjoying Petunia''s breakfast and chatting with Petunia''s annoying nephew, Uncle Vernon struggled to turn his head, quietly thinking about this question.

    Suddenly, Uncle Vernon opened his eyes wide and held his breath, thinking of a shocking possibility! From the conversation, it could be heard that this man had been a professor at that school that, which means that he must be one of those weird and freaky people they hated! Those who could do unnatural things with a flick of a stick, those who had ruined his peaceful and normal life by sending his nephew to that ce!

    And Mr. Watson must have known this, no doubt, Mr. Watson was a decent person, so he never wanted to admit or reveal that he had such a shameful bastard son, he didn''t want to have anything to do with him! He must have abandoned him as soon as he found out his true nature, and never looked back!

    Bryan, who seemed to have noticed something, casually nced at Uncle Vernon, who had changed his expression from confusion and fear to contempt and superiority. He wondered what had made the fat man who had shown him such hostility and suspicion suddenly feel so smug and proud. He also noticed that the kid who was almost a miniature version of him had been covering his butt with his hands since he saw him. What was wrong with that? Could it be that he had been persecuted by someone and had some misunderstanding of him?

    "¨CI saw a picture in that drawing room, it was."

    Harry hesitated for a moment, as if he was reluctant to admit his rtionship with the Dursleys in front of Professor Watson, just like the Dursleys always thought that having a rtionship with him was a disgrace.

    "¨CIt was a group photo of all the employees of Uncle Vernon''spany many years ago, and it also had the boss of thispany"

    "And then you found out that the boss of that drillingpany looked almost exactly like me?"

    Bryan, who had eaten seven or eight points full, elegantly wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth with a napkin, and nodded gratefully at Aunt Petunia,

    "Your cooking is great, Mrs. Petunia, I haven''t had such a delicious breakfast for a long time."

    Aunt Petunia, who received thepliment, did not show any emotion rted to happiness. She pursed her lips and lowered her head to look at those tes. Although she was eager to get this man out of her house, even if he might have a close rtionship with Vernon''spany boss, she didn''t dare to say a word. She was afraid of what he might do if he got angry, or worse, if he used his magic.

    "So, how is he doing now, I mean, ude Watson."

    Harry was not surprised that Professor Watson would care about the health of Uncle Vernon''spany boss, he was surprised by the tone of Professor Watson when he mentioned this name, that was a kind of casual, not very caring tone, as if he was discussing a stranger who had little to do with him!

    "Very bad, Professor, he could die at any time"

    Harry didn''t go on, but he believed that Professor Watson would understand what he meant. He wondered why Professor Watson didn''t seem to care about his father''s condition, or didn''t try to contact him or visit him.

    Looking at Professor Watson, whose deep eyes were hard to see, Harry hesitated for a while and asked,

    "Do you know, I mean, did you know this Mr. ude Watson very early, Professor. Because, you don''t seem very surprised?"

    Bryan sighed, he leaned back on the chair and looked up at the spotless ceiling, his fingers tapping on the dining table one by one, making a dull and depressing knocking sound. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, recalling some memories that were not pleasant or happy.

    "Yes, I know."

    After a while, Bryan nodded and answered the question, "I knew about the existence of this Mr. ude Watson very early."

    "But I heard Hagrid say that you grew up in an orphanage?"

    Harry opened his mouth and asked nkly.

    "That''s right, Potter."

    Bryan lowered his head and looked at Harry, showing a deep smile that was hard to understand, "I did grow up in an orphanage, these two things are not contradictory, are they?"

    ******************************************

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0128 Second Visit

    0128 Second Visit

    After several days had passed, Harry once again found himself standing in front of the luxurious and magnificent Watson Manor, which was surrounded by a high wall and arge iron gate. Thest time he hade here, he had been apanied by the Dursley family. This time, however, the person next to him was changed to Professor Watson, who had shown him kindness and curiosity.

    "Professor¨C"

    Harry whispered, pointing his finger at the guards who looked at them with a wary and hostile look from behind the bars of the gate.

    "If we don''t make an appointment in advance, I''m afraid they won''t let us in."

    "Oh, don''t worry, Potter, we''ll find a way."

    Bryan, who had been immersed in his memories of the past, was pulled back to reality by Harry''s reminder. He took a confident step forward and walked towards the manor, saying in a casual tone, while Harry, who followed behind him, didn''t know what Professor Watson''s method was, but he thought that if it was relying on the power of magic, it might not be very appropriate in the muggle world.

    "We are here to visit the owner of the manor, gentlemen, can you please help us open the door?"

    Bryan stood in front of the guards, who were all dressed in ck suits and had cold and expressionless faces, and politely requested. His voice was calm and courteous, but there was a hint of authority in it.

    ''This is Professor Watson''s method?'' Harry was disappointed. He had expected something more clever and magical.

    The leader of the guards was a strong and muscr muggle, who looked at the young man who looked a bit familiar with a suspicious and doubtful look, and the child next to the young man, feeling that they both looked a bit familiar, too. He wondered if they had seen them on the television or in the newspapers.

    "Sorry, gentlemen, we didn''t get any notice in advance that someone would visit Mr. Watson today. Maybe your appointment was unsessful, or maybe you got the wrong time."

    The guard leader said, trying to sound polite and professional. Of course, most of the people who came in and out of here were noble and upper-ss people, and he didn''t dare to offend them without a reason.

    "Maybe Lawrence forgot to tell you¨C"

    Bryan smiled and lied, "You can go and confirm with him again, um, you can say that the son of Mrs. Melina Depp wants to visit Mr. Watson, I think he will let us in."

    The guards looked at each other, they had been working here for a while, and they all knew the old housekeeper''s rigorous and meticulous work style. Normally, if these two strangers really had a prior appointment with Mr. Lawrence, he shouldn''t forget to tell them, but the unique and elegant temperament of the young man in front of them and the confident and charming smile on his face made them not so sure of their guesses.

    "Okay, sir, then please wait a moment¨C"

    After hesitating for a while, the guard leader said this, and then ran to the manor to ask for instructions.

    "Did you see, Potter¨C"

    While waiting under the shade of a lush and green tree, whose gray-brown bark was covered with cracks of white wax, Bryan said, "Not everything has to rely on magic to solve."

    Harry secretly rolled his eyes and kept quiet, but asked in a low voice, "Who is this Mrs. Melina Depp, Professor Watson?"

    "Just like I said, Potter."

    His eyes jumped over the magnificent and splendid building of the manor and gazed at the pure and wless, high and distant clouds in the sky. Bryan moved his mouth and said in a slightly less crisp and clear voice,

    "That''s my mother¨C"

    The actual manager of the manor, the loyal and faithful old housekeeper who had served the Watson family for two generations, came faster than expected. Looking at the old Lawrence who ran to the gate faster than the young and agile guard leader, Harry was surprised. In thest brief meeting, Harry''s impression of this old housekeeper was that he was the kind of person that the Dursley family would like very much - meticulous, polite, and seemingly elegant in his bones.

    But now, this old housekeeper who normally took every step with the same distance and pace was running wildly, which not only surprised Harry, but also made Bryan''s calm andposed eyes change slightly.

    "Where is that gentleman!"

    The old housekeeper, whose gray hair was stuck to his sweaty and wrinkled cheeks, didn''t even give himself time to breathe. He yelled at the guards who were a bit at a loss and confused from a few dozen feet away, with a sharp and urgent voice.

    At the moment of eye contact, Lawrence suddenly froze. He looked at the young man who stood with no expression in the mottled and dim tree shadow, and swept his handsome and familiar features with a nostalgic and longing look. His nose, which had brown spots from old age, suddenly became sour and tingling.

    "Yes, it''s you." The old housekeeper approached step by step, and said softly in a mumbling and trembling tone. His voice was full of emotion and disbelief.

    Harry looked at the old housekeeper who was excited and his eyes were red, and then looked at Bryan who still looked very calm and indifferent. His emerald eyes widened in shock and curiosity!

    "It''s you, definitely not wrong, you are that child, just like master when he was young."

    The old housekeeper seemed to age ten years in an instant. He came to Bryan''s front,pletely ignoring Harry, and stretched out his hand, as if he wanted to touch Bryan''s cheek. His hand was shaking and wrinkled.

    "So alike, I''ve been looking for you for many years." He said, his eyes moist and shining.

    "Hope you don''t mind our rude visit."

    Bryan took a step back, avoiding the old housekeeper''s fingertips, and said in a tone without any fluctuations. His tone was cold and distant, as if he didn''t want to have anything to do with the old man.

    And his overly calm tone also woke up Lawrence like a bucket of cold water, making him regain some calmness andposure.

    "You know everything, young master. I mean, what happened back then, did your mother tell you everything?"

    Lawrence, who didn''t want to leave Bryan''s face for a moment, showed bitterness and regret. His face was pale and sad.

    "Young master? Where does thise from, Lawrence¨C" Bryan said a bit helplessly, "If you don''t mind, just call me Bryan."

    "Bryan." Hearing him say that, Lawrence''s old body shuddered, "That''s the name of Mrs. Melina Depp''s father."

    "Let''s change to a simpler way ofmunication,"

    Bryan frowned with annoyance, to be honest, he didn''t know how to deal with this old housekeeper. After taking a deep breath, Bryan looked at Harry, who was staring wide-eyed and also in a inexplicably excited state, and patted his shoulder and said to Lawrence,

    "Maybe you have an impression of this kid, his name is Harry Potter, he visited here with the Dursleysst week, and identally found a photo of the owner of the manor when he was young in the living room, and he looked very simr to me, so he wrote to me, oh, by the way, I''m this kid''s teacher, um, I taught him some self-defense skills."

    Harry rolled a covert eye and continued to keep quiet. He felt that Bryan was lying too casually and unconvincingly.

    "Out of curiosity, I came over with him to take a look, of course, if this kind of rude behavior makes you feel troubled, we can leave now." Bryan said, pretending to be polite and respectful.

    "Leave? Oh, absolutely not!"

    Lawrence suddenly recovered his vigor, he grabbed Bryan and Harry''s arms, and said to Harry with a trembling and grateful voice, "You are Vernon''s nephew, right? Oh, kid, I''m so grateful to you! You brought him back to me!"

    "Oh, well,"

    Harry showed a bit of embarrassment, and said hastily, "You''re wee, sir, I didn''t really do anything."

    In the blue sky, arge cloud of thick and dark clouds was driven by the wind mixed with moisture towards the sun, and the magnificent and elegant manor was gradually hidden in the darkness. The atmosphere became gloomy and ominous.

    Bryan, who was dragged by Lawrence towards the house, looked at a sick room on the top floor, and his calm andposed expression gradually becameplicated and conflicted.

    For Extra Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0129 Father & Son

    0129 Father & Son

    Lawrence gently closed the door behind him, leaving only Bryan and the man lying on the hospital bed in aa in the cold and sterile room. The only sound that could be heard was the rhythmic ticking of the muggle machines that monitored the man¡¯s vital signs. They looked like alien devices to Bryan, who had never seen such things before.

    Bryan nced at the man¡¯s shriveled body, which looked like a dried-up leaf that could crumble at any moment. His life seemed to havee to an end, and he was only waiting for the final breath. Bryan felt a tremor run through his body, and his indifferent expression turned into an indescribableplexity, as if there was a heavy stone pressing on his heart.

    He walked slowly to the window, opened the curtains and pushed open the closed window, letting the cool breeze take away the unpleasant smell of medicine and decay that filled the room. Then, leaning against the window sill, Bryan took out a cigarette from his pocket and sniffed it under his nose, regaining his calm gaze and falling on the man¡¯s triangr face that had be thin and pale.

    ¡°Ufff¨C¡±

    After a long time, Bryan uttered an iprehensible sigh, as if he was feeling sorry for the man, or for himself, or for both of them.

    Perhaps it was the cold wind that broke into the ward that made the man ufortable. In a blur of murmurs and moans, the man struggled to open his eyes, which had been closed for a long time. He stared at the white ceiling with a hollow gaze, and it took him about five minutes to see some rity in his cloudy eyes.

    Soon, the man who was about to die realized that there was someone else in the room. He looked at the window, but the dazzling light made his vision blurry. He was puzzled why someone dared to open the window of the room, which was supposed to be sealed and isted. So he blinked hard to see who the person at the window was.

    The cool wind made his stiff consciousness more and more smooth, and the blurry light and shadow gradually faded away. As the person¡¯s appearance became clearer and clearer, the man¡¯s mouth opened wider and wider, and his cloudy eyes swelled as if they were about to jump out of their sockets.

    The silence continued, he was looking at him, and he was looking at him, too. There was no introduction, but both of them knew very well who the other was.

    ¡°Can you give me a cigar? Ever since I was diagnosed, Lawrence wouldn¡¯t let me smoke one. Haha, I think it doesn¡¯t matter now¨C¡±

    Bryan threw the cigarette in his hand over, and said lightly,

    ¡°No cigar, make do with this¨C¡±

    The man picked up the cigarette that had been squeezed a little out of shape, and frowned unhappily, but in the end, he didn¡¯t insist on his request. He shakily put the cigarette in his mouth and muttered,

    ¡°Fire¨C¡±

    Snap!

    After a crisp snap, a small me appeared on Bryan¡¯s thumb and lit up the cigarette tip. It flickered with fire and emitted wisps of blue smoke.

    The man took a deep breath of the cigarette and showed a look of enjoyment. With the help of nicotine, his grayish brown eyes showed some brilliance, and his withered body also regained some strength. He even had enough strength to prop up his body and lean back on the head of the bed in a morefortable position.

    ¡°What was that just now, a trick?¡±

    ¡°Just take it as a trick¨C¡± Bryan saidzily.

    For a person who might die the next second, there was nothing new in the world. The man nodded and didn¡¯t ask any more questions.

    ¡°So¨C¡±

    The choking smoke put pressure on the man¡¯s already copsing organs. He coughed heavily twice, then wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth as if nothing had happened. After a short breath, he said with difficulty,

    ¡°It was Lawrence who found you, wasn¡¯t it? I know he¡¯s been looking for you behind my back, especially in thest two or three years since I was diagnosed. He spent a lot of energy on this.¡±

    Bryan took out another cigarette from his pocket, and suddenly felt a strong urge to light it, but in the end, he overcame this desire and just yed with it in his hand. He rolled the cigarette between his fingers, feeling the rough texture of the paper and the softness of the tobo. He looked at the man on the bed, who was still smoking his cigarette with relish, and said in a bored tone,

    ¡°If I were you¨C¡±

    He paused, as if he was thinking of something, but then he shook his head and continued, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t waste the little life I have left on such a boring question.¡±

    The man nodded in agreement, then fell silent. The cigarette in his hand was burning fast, and the ashes fell down, scorching ugly ck spots on the snow-white quilt that covered his thin legs. He took another drag of the cigarette, feeling the smoke fill his lungs and then escape through his nostrils. He exhaled slowly, making a ring of smoke that floated in the air for a while before dissipating.

    ¡°What kind of life are you living now?¡± He asked in a hoarse voice, breaking the silence. This time, the silent person became Bryan. He rubbed his brow, and his eyes, which were never easily shaken, wandered around the room. He saw the flowers on the bedside table, which were wilting and losing their petals. He saw the cards on the wall, which were full of words of encouragement and sympathy. He felt a surge of mixed emotions, but he quickly suppressed them.

    ¡°How should I answer your question?¡± Bryan sighed. ¡°A free and easy life, a hopeful life, anyway, it¡¯s not bad.¡±

    ¡°Is that so.¡± The man said softly. ¡°That¡¯s good¨C¡±

    Both of them seemed to have lost the desire to speak. The man on the bed cherished probably thest cigarette of his life, staring nkly at the slow but firm me that devoured the cigarette. One by one, the past events shed through his mind, and finally, they stopped on a face that was already blurred. He wanted to see through the fog on that face, but no matter how hard he tried, the fog never dissipated. So, he could onlyugh mockingly,

    ¡°I can¡¯t even remember what that woman looked like.¡±

    ¡°Not hard to understand.¡± Bryan said calmly, ¡°After all, it¡¯s been many years, and I don¡¯t remember much either¨C¡±

    His words revealed a message, and the man who urately captured this message on the bed was stunned, and then asked,

    ¡°So, she. I mean, your mother, she¡¯s already.¡±

    ¡°You guessed it right,¡± Bryan nodded, ¡°She¡¯s been gone for many years¨C¡±

    Perhaps it was a habitual practice to activate the ulumency shields when his emotions were unstable, Bryan¡¯s tone always maintained an iprehensible calm. His calmness made the man feel a bit dazzling, and a bit angry, but after thinking about it carefully, he knew that he had no right to say anything.

    ¡°So¨C¡±

    Seeing that the man seemed to have nothing to say, Bryan straightened up from his leaning position. He nodded at the man,

    ¡°Rest well, Mr. Watson, I¡¯m leaving now.¡±

    The words ¡®Mr. Watson¡¯ that Bryan uttered burned the man¡¯s pride like a me. His breathing became rapid, and his body, like a candle in the wind, suddenly surged with a strange strength.

    ¡°Do you hate me?¡± He shouted at Bryan, who was at the door, ¡°Do you hate me for what I did to you and your mother?¡±

    Bryan stopped at the head of the bed, and looked at the man¡¯s eyes for a long time, before saying slowly,

    ¡°There¡¯s nothing to resent, Mr. Watson. After all, you¡¯re just an innocent victim.¡±

    The man copsed back on the bed, looking dejected. The strength that had just emerged in his body was quickly stripped away. He seemed to hear the footsteps of death bing clearer and clearer.

    ¡°Can you please call Lawrence for me?¡± The man called out to Bryan, who was about to leave, ¡°I have something to tell him.¡±

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0130 Those Stories (Part-1)

    0130 Those Stories (Part-1)

    Boom - the deafening thunder roared across thend, and the torrential rain plunged the Watson Manor into a gloomy darkness. The manor, which had witnessed countless years seemed to shiver under the wrath of nature. The raindrops hit the windows like bullets, creating a rhythmic noise that echoed in the empty corridors.

    Back in the private reception room, Bryan found Harry in a daze, and the exquisite snacks on the coffee table in front of him seemed untouched. The young wizard looked pale and restless, as if he had just seen a ghost. His green eyes were fixed on the door, where Bryan had disappeared for more than an hour.

    "Professor Watson -"

    Seeing Bryan enter the room, Harry came back from his sluggish state. He seemed curious about many things, but the solemn expression on Professor Watson''s face made him realize that he might not want to pry into his secrets. Harry respected his privacy, but he also felt uneasy about the mysterious meeting that had taken ce between Bryan and the owner of the manor.

    "Shall we leave now?"

    Forced by the pressure around Bryan, Harry resisted the urge to ask about the meeting situation, and looked a little uneasy.

    Walking to the window, Bryan stared at the dense rain curtain outside and pondered for a moment, "The old butler Lawrence invited us to have lunch together. Well, this terrible weather, I think it''s not a bad idea to have a midday meal here, at least, we don''t have to brave the rain to find a car -"

    This was a lie - Harry saw through it at a nce.

    Professor Watson was a powerful wizard, and if he wanted, he had plenty of ways to keep himself from getting wet. He could use a simple charm, or even apparate to any ce he desired. Of course, Harry was not stupid, he did not expose this lie, but just nodded hesitantly. He thought that Professor had some unfinished business here, and he did not want to interfere.

    Bryan closed the window, brushed off the raindrops on his clothes, turned around and sat next to Harry, looking carefully at the interior decoration of the room - crystal chandeliers, velvet carpets, cedar coffee tables, and even the cups for tea, they were all precious porcin from many countries. The room was filled with luxury and elegance, but also with a cold and distant atmosphere. It was obvious that this was not a ce where people lived happily andfortably.

    "Tsk tsk, the luxury of rich -"

    Bryan nced over the furnishings in the room with an appreciative eye, and whispered in admiration. He thought that Potter would agree with him a little bit, but in fact he didn''t. Potter didn''t say a word, just peeked at him with a secret and restrained look. Harry felt a strange tension between them, as if they were both hiding something from each other.

    Bryan thought for a while, he leaned back on the chair, chuckled and asked,

    "I guess, you must be curious about my rtionship with the owner of this manor?"

    "I don''t quite understand, professor," Harry hesitated and nodded, "You said you grew up in an orphanage, but you seem to have known for a long time that, well, you have something to do with this manor?"

    "That''s because -"

    Bryan picked a piece of snack from the coffee table and threw it into his mouth, chewing it non-stop, and muttered,

    "How can I exin it to you? Well, although I''m not like you, who defeated the dark lord Voldemort, who made the magical world tremble, when I was just born, I also have some unique abilities of my own."

    "Unique abilities?"

    Harry didn''t have time to care about Professor Watson''s teasing words, and blinked curiously.

    "Yes -" Bryan nodded and said, "My memory is outstanding. Of course, this will make you confused, what kind of ability is outstanding memory, even among the Muggles there are many people with amazing memory, but those people are definitely not like me, since I opened my eyes in this world for the first time, I remember everything that happened to me -"

    It took Harry a few seconds to understand what Professor Watson meant, and then he was shocked and widened his eyes, looking incredulous,

    "You mean, you remember everything that happened to you after you were born, I''ve never heard of anyone who has this ability!"

    "Ah, yes, this situation is indeed rare, but there must be some simr cases to mine."

    Bryan was vague, he spread his hands at Harry, "So, it''s not hard to understand why I''m an orphan, but I know the blood rtionship between the owner of this manor and me -"

    It took Harry some effort to digest the shocking news. Among all his friends, Hermione was undoubtedly the one with the best brain, she could memorize a textbook that made him desperate in the shortest time, and for a long time, she could recite the contents of that book backwards. But Harry believed that Hermione couldn''t remember what she looked like when she was just born either! He wondered how Bryan felt, having such a perfect memory, and whether it was a blessing or a curse.

    "So, that means, you know. know why they would -"

    Harry showed a hesitant expression, as if he was afraid to touch a wound that had not healed.

    "Abandon me?"

    Bryan finished the sentence that Harry didn''t finish, with a bitter smile on his face. He did not seem to be angry or resentful, but rather resigned and indifferent. He had epted it, and he did not expect any sympathy or pity from anyone.

    "Oh, I''m sorry, professor!" Harry stood up and hurriedly expressed his apology, "I didn''t mean to pry into your privacy."

    He felt guilty and embarrassed, as if he had vited a taboo. He knew how painful it was to lose one''s parents, and he did not want to make Bryan feel worse. Bryan waved his hand and told Harry to sit down, indicating that he didn''t need to be too nervous, and then, looking at the rain outside that didn''t weaken at all, he frowned and said,

    "Well, before lunch starts, maybe we need a topic to kill time. Actually, I don''t think discussing my origin is a shameful thing, I just think it''s boring and dull, but since we need a topic."

    ''This was another lie!''

    Harry pursed his lips and thought to himself, he thought Professor Watson just wanted to find an excuse to confide.

    He sensed that Bryan had a lot of things to say, and that he needed someone to listen. Harry felt a strange connection with him, as if they were both outsiders in this world, and that they had something inmon. He was not an orphan, but that was almost the same. Sometimes, he also wanted to tell someone how hard his life was with the Dursleys, of course, he had told Ron and Hermione about these things, and they did show incredulity and anger, but Ron and Hermione couldn''t empathize with him. They had never experienced the loneliness and neglect that he had endured for ten years, and they had never felt the fear and hatred that he had faced from his rtives.

    Life is always lonely.

    Harry suddenly remembered some simr words that Professor Watson had said to Hermione, maybe, Professor Watson wanted to say. some experiences bring pain that only oneself can bear?

    "Your mother. oh, of course, and your father, they sacrificed themselves to resist the evil that corrupted the world, to fight against Voldemort, this fearless act made people admire, even after they have been dead for more than a decade, when people mention them, they still maintain enough respect -"

    Bryan said in a soothing tone, trying tofort Harry.

    "Compared to them, my mother is not so noble, in fact, because of being too rebellious, she was quite unpopr."

    Professor Watson''s evaluation of his parents made Harry both happy and sad, he was not like Professor Watson who had such a unique talent, his recognition of his parents'' appearance was still the album that Hagrid gave him at the end of the first year, and the mirror of Erised that he didn''t know where it went.

    "Rebellious might not be enough to describe my mother''s actions in her youth, she learned to smoke at the age of ten with a few bad boys from the street, and had a tattoo on her back after she entered High School in the first year. She learned to steal, of course, her family situation didn''t need her to do such a despicable thing, she did it probably just for fun, and then, hanging out with the boys, fighting and brawling, she spent less than a year or two, and she had a record in the Muggle police station that was probably thicker than your history of magic textbook -"

    Harry was shocked and stared at Professor Watson, unable to imagine that someone like Professor Watson who was always polite and seemed to have nothing to anger him would have such a, well rebellious mother!

    "You can imagine how much tears her parents shed for her actions, in order to discipline her better, they had to transfer her to a famous school that specialized in dealing with troubled teenagers. But that was also a waste of effort, or even worse, the chaotic environment of that school encouraged her rebellious nature, and after staying there for a few years, she was expelled from the school and detained for a while because she was the leader of a terrible gang fight. And that also made her parentspletely disappointed in her, and when she came home, they threw her luggage out of the door and yelled that she was no longer their daughter."

    As he said this, Bryan sighed heavily, as if he was also helpless for his mother''s actions when she was young.

    "Actually, speaking of it, my birth was entirely due to my mother''s scheming."

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0131 Those Stories (Part-2)

    0131 Those Stories (Part-2)

    A series of hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor outside the room, breaking the silence of the night. Bryan paused his recount of the past, and listened quietly for a while, his face looked a bit gloomy. He wondered who was running around at thiste hour, and what kind of trouble they might bring. The rainstorm outside the window was still falling, and dazzling thunder shes asionally lit up the dark sky. The air was suffocating, as if something ominous was about to happen.

    Harry held his breath, although he kept quiet, his eyes showed a kind of urgency. He obviously wanted to know why Professor Watson said that his birth was entirely nned by his mother. He felt a surge of curiosity and confusion.

    Here is my attempt to improve the text:

    Bryan felt a surge of pain in his head, as if his memories were too heavy to bear. He frowned and asked, "What did I just say, Potter?" He was struggling to remember.

    Harry replied quickly, eager to hear more. "You said your mother was kicked out of the house, and the n."

    "Thank you¨C" Bryan muttered, rubbing his brow. "My mind is a bit fuzzy, well, then, it was this. Cutting off ties with my parents didn''t make my mother see reason, but enraged her. She thought they rejected her because they thought she was worthless, and if she became sessful, she could make a lot of money. But we all know that it wasn''t that simple, especially for a girl who had little education, a lot of bad records, and had just turned of age. The opportunities for her to make something of herself were scarce. Life was hard, because she couldn''t stand those dull, physical jobs that paid poorly."

    There was a nging sound in the corridor, as if someone was running with some equipment. Harry briefly left Professor Watson''s story and thought about what might be happening outside, and then easily had an answer.

    He guessed that it was probably the staff of the hospital, preparing for some emergency situation.

    Harry looked at Professor Watson''s profile, and from Professor Watson''s sudden eleration of speech and story rhythm, he obviously knew what might have happened outside. He seemed to be in a hurry to finish his story, as if he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible. He spoke faster and faster, his voice bing more and more tense and emotional.

    "¨CShe mixed in the society for some years and met many people of all kinds. From those friends, she learned about a cocktail party held by a business celebrity, and then dressed herself up beautifully, pretending to be a rich and well-educateddy.

    She sneaked into the party, picked out the most graceful one in the crowd, had a short and beautiful love, immersed in it and unable to extricate herself, she secretly got pregnant, went to the door but found that her identity had been investigated by the old master of the manor. Well, to investigate these things clearly, I almost turned London upside down in the summer vacation of my third year!"

    Bryan smiled self-deprecatingly at Harry, who was surprised and opened his mouth. He saw the shock and disbelief in Harry''s eyes, and he felt a pang of bitterness in his heart.

    The time went back to February 28, 1971.

    This year''s winter was exceptionally long and cold. At this time in the past, the drunk spring breeze had already been leisurely wandering on therge and neatly trimmedwn of the Watson Manor, but now, everything was buried under the white snow. The trees were bare and lifeless, the flowers were frozen and withered, and the birds were nowhere to be seen. The whole manor looked like a deste and lonely ce, devoid of any warmth and joy.

    On the straight road from the big iron gate to the majestic manor, there were more than a dozen servants clearing the snow on the road, but the efficiency was not as good as usual. They whispered to each other, and their curious eyes were all cast on the things happening at the gate of the yard. They had heard some rumors about the young master and a mysteriousdy, and they wanted to see what was going on.

    ng!

    "You made me feel unprecedented humiliation, Melina!"

    The young and handsome young master of the manor mmed the door shut, red at thedy outside the iron gate with angry eyes, and said viciously, "Get out of here, never show up in front of me again!"

    Hearing this ruthless word, the manor steward Lawrence showed a look of pity. He looked at thedy outside the gate and wanted to say something but stopped - that was a young and beautifuldy, with clever and delicate features, but unfortunately, her messy hair, dust on her cheeks, and dried blood stains on the inside of her thighs ruined her beauty.

    In the snowkes falling slowly from the gloomy sky, even the servants working in the manor wore a thickyer of cotton clothes, but thedy only wore a thin woolen sweater, because her coat was wrapped around the baby who had just been born for a day in her arms.

    That was a very strange baby. In such cold weather, even though his cute cheeks were frozen blue, he still did not cry, and his light brown eyes showed a kind of rity that only conscious people would have, but a baby who had just been born for a day obviously would not have a clear consciousness.

    He looked at the world around him with curiosity and wonder, unaware of the harsh reality that awaited him. The youngdy seemed to be stunned by ude Watson''s performance. She looked at the man helplessly and fearfully, and whispered,

    "But you said you would marry me."

    "How dare you mention this!" ude roared, "You are so despicable, lowly- huh, you made me aughingstock, this shame will follow me for the rest of my life!"

    "But."

    Melina''s eyes sparkled with tears, she looked at the baby in her arms, her expression became more fearful, "This child. he is yours-"

    "Shut up!"

    ude interrupted her, he stared at the baby, his eyes of disgust had a trace of hesitation, but it was immediately crushed by the anger in his heart, he gasped and said,

    "You disappeared after being exposed, and came back with a child a few monthster. Oh. where did you get him from, I think, this must be another clumsy lie, right?"

    He refused to believe that the baby was his, he refused to acknowledge any connection with her or her offspring. He wanted to erase her from his life, and from his memory. He wanted to pretend that none of this had ever happened, that he had never met her, never loved her, never made a mistake with her.

    After saying this, ude Watson turned and left without any nostalgia. He mmed the door behind him, and locked it with a loud click. He did not dare to look back, he did not want to care what would happen to her or the baby.

    "Miss Depp¨C"

    Looking at Melina, who lowered her head and looked at the baby, her eyes were both nk and desperate, Lawrence hesitated for a moment, he took out a check from his pocket and handed it through the gap in the fence,

    "Maybe this can help you through some difficulties¨C"

    Melina didn''t even look at the check, she just hugged the baby tightly, and left silently under the snowkes. She did not say a word, she did not show any emotion, she did not ept any help. She walked away, like a ghost, like a shadow, like a nobody.

    The scene changed, and there was another equally ruthless door closing sound on the street.

    "We have no obligation to be responsible for your actions!" The cold voice from the room made Melina Depp''s body tremble, but in fact, her body that had been frozen stiff had long lost the feeling of cold. She had been wandering for days, with no destination, no purpose, no meaning.

    She hugged the baby who was about to faint from hunger and cold and left again, wandering aimlessly and quietly on the lonely street. She did not know where she was going, she did not know what she was doing, she did not know why she was living. She just walked, and walked, and walked, until her feet were numb, until her eyes were blurred, until her mind was empty.

    The snowkes falling slowly from the dark sky covered her with ayer of white coat. asionally, passers-by who passed by her looked at her with pity, and she had no reaction. She did not notice them, she did not hear them, she did not feel them. She was in a world of her own, a world of silence, a world of pain, a world of despair.

    The baby in her arms finally cried, the cry was very weak, but it was the only sound Melina could hear now. She looked at the baby who looked like his father, and her dead eyes had waves, but in the end, they became nk again.

    She walked for a long time, from the quiet suburbs to the bustlingmercial center, and then crossed themercial center to the other side of the city. She was not going to ask anyone for help, she just didn''t want to stop. She felt that if she stopped, she would copse and never get up again.

    In the yard of a dpidated orphanage, Miss Ferrena stopped sweeping the snow and looked at the raggeddy holding a baby passing by the door, her eyes showing worry. She recognized the signs of despair and hopelessness on thedy''s face. She had seen them too many times before.

    In fact, as soon as thedy appeared in her sight, she had been paying attention to her. She had a keen eye for spotting those who were in need of help, especially those who had children with them. She had dedicated her life to running the orphanage, taking care of the abandoned and orphaned children, giving them a home and a family.

    For an experienced Ferrena who had worked in an orphanage for a lifetime, she had seen this situation countless times. Often, young men, young women, or young couples who appeared together sneaked up to the door of the orphanage, looked panicked, threw a package and a cardboard box, and then turned and ran away. Inside the package or the box, there would be a baby, sometimes with a note, sometimes without. Ferrena would always take the baby in, no matter what.

    She thought thedy would do the same, but the fact surprised her. Thedy did not leave the baby at the door, but kept holding him in her arms, as if she was afraid to let him go. But she also did not seem to care for him, or for herself. She looked like a walking corpse, with no life or emotion in her eyes.

    But this did not make Ferena feel at ease, but made her more worried. She knew that thedy and the baby were both in danger, and needed help urgently. After a very short time of thinking, Ferrena put the broom against the wall, carefully stepped on the wet and slippery ground and walked out of the gate of the orphanage.

    She followed thedy''s footsteps, and called out to her in a gentle and friendly voice.

    "Hello, ma''am¨C" Ferrena shouted at Melina''s back, "Do you need some help?"

    Melina did not look back. In fact, she was silent in a world where there was no hope, and could not hear anyone''s call.

    ************************************

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0132 Good and Evil

    0132 Good and Evil

    The young woman holding the child did not give any response, and even, without stopping her footsteps, walked through the deste, snow-covered streets, her footsteps left a trail of imprints in the freshly fallen snow. Despite the bitter cold and her evident distress, she did not give any response to the world around her. Her determination to move forward was unwavering, and she continued relentlessly .

    Behind her, a figure emerged from the frosty mist - a woman of nearly seventy years named Ferrena. Her weathered face bore the marks of a lifetime of experiences, and she hesitated briefly as she observed the young woman ahead. Despite her advanced age, Ferrena''s heart was filled with concern for the stranger and the fragile child she cradled.

    "Ma''am,"

    Ferrena called out, reaching out to grab the young woman''s arm. She wanted to offer assistance, to ask if they needed help, but her eyes fixated on the baby in the woman''s arms. Her voice trembled as she eximed, "Oh, this child!"

    Her gaze bore into the young woman with a mix of anger and sadness.

    "Can''t you see, ma''am? This child is nearly frozen to death! How long has it been since you fed him?"

    Melina looked indifferently at the ''nosy'' olddy, and when she noticed the sign of the orphanage hanging on the dpidated low-rise building next to her, her dead eyes fluctuated a bit, but in the end, she didn''t say a word. Her silence only deepened the olddy''s concern. Ferrena''s gaze shifted to the worn sign of the orphanage hanging on a nearby dpidated low-rise building. Melina''s peculiar behavior left Ferrena perplexed. The young woman clung to her clothing, refusing to speak a word.

    Ferrena finally sighed heavily, ovee with pity. "Wait here," she instructed, releasing her hold on Melina''s arm. "I''ll fetch some warm clothes and food for this poor little one."

    However, Melina did not follow the olddy''s instructions. As soon as her arm was free, she took a step forward and continued to walk forward.

    "Hey, wait a minute!"

    Ferrena called out in concern, her voice carrying a note of urgency. She struggled to follow Melina, but her aged legs and the thickyer of snow on the ground impeded her progress. She stumbled and staggered through the snow, doing her best to catch up with the determined young woman.

    Melina continued to ignore Ferrena''s pursuit and shouts. Her pace quickened, her footsteps leaving a trail of turmoil in the snow. She didn''t understand why she was doing this, allowing despair to guide her like an empty vessel.

    The chase persisted for about a hundred feet until Melina abruptly halted on an old arch bridge. The cold wind that hit her face like a knife made Melina regain some sober reason. She forgot about the olddy who had slipped on the snow because of a misstep and identally fell into the snow. Then she turned her eyes to the river under the arch bridge. The surface of the river was covered with ayer of ice and snow. As if sensing something bad was about to happen, the baby in her arms cried out with all his strength in his small body, hoping someone could save his life.

    "Shut up," Melina muttered, her voiceced with bitterness. The baby''s piercing cry intensified her despair and resentment. Her once-beautiful face, now marred by dust and snow, contorted into a mask of ferocity.

    "You''re just like me, a mistake in this world!"

    With a sudden, shocking determination, she hoisted the baby high above her head, stepped over the low railing of the arch bridge in one swift movement, and plunged headlong towards the icy river below.

    "Oh, no!"

    Ferrena had already foreseen this scene. She struggled in the snow with her old arms and legs. She endured the severe pain in her waist. She took advantage of the young woman''s reckless anger at her own child and crawled to the arch bridge almost by crawling.

    "What are you doing!"

    Seeing that both people were about to fall into the river, Ferrena threw herself up desperately. At thest moment, she knocked Melina and her child to the ground. After rolling a few times on the ground, the coat wrapped around the child loosened. Under the cold wind and snow, the baby''s weak cry quickly became faint until it was barely audible.

    "Get off me, old thing. This is my business. It has nothing to do with you!" Melina tried to kick off the olddy who was holding her bare feet.

    "You are crazy."

    Ferrena felt two sharp pains on her cheek as Melina''s boots hit her face. She almost cked out from the impact, but she clenched her teeth and held on to Melina''s leg with all her strength. She was determined not to let go. But obviously she couldn''tpete with a twenty-something woman who was consumed by rage and hatred. She onlysted for more than ten seconds before another kicknded on her shoulder de, sending a wave of numbness through her body. She lost her grip on Melina''s leg involuntarily.

    Fortunately, their struggle had brought Ferrena closer to the baby in the snow. So she had an idea. While Melina was still struggling to get up from the snowdrift, Ferrena rolled over and threw herself on the crying baby, holding him tightly under her body.

    But Melina seemed to have lost all reason and sanity. She let out a wolf-like roar, rushed to Ferrena''s side, and grabbed her hair. She cursed and kicked her arm while trying to snatch the baby back from her. But even though she was battered and bruised, Ferrena lying in the snow did not waver at all. She was determined to protect the baby with her old and frail body. The stormy attacksted for two minutes before it stopped. Melina gasped and stood up. She looked at the olddy who was trembling in front of her. Somehow, the hatred in her eyes had faded away.

    This storm of violence raged on for two grueling minutes before finally subsiding. Gasping for breath, Melina stood up, her eyes devoid of the hatred that had consumed her moments ago.

    "Why!?," Melina asked in a daze, her voice filled with numbness. "His father rejected him, his grandparents refused him, his birth was a mistake. We should both die together."

    "It''s you who should bear the weight of your actions, not this innocent child!" Ferrena retorted fiercely, her eyes locking onto Melina''s.

    "Hey," Melina sobbed, her face a portrait of misery as she offered a wretched smile. "You''re right. I am a wretch. I deserve to die. He is innocent."

    Ferrena was left stunned by Melina''s sudden change of heart. Before she could react, Melina turned resolutely, took two deliberate steps to the other side of the arch bridge, stepped onto the railing, and leaped into the frigid air.

    The moment was a blur, an abrupt and chilling tragedy. The sound of cracking ice and sshing water reached Ferrena''s ears, and she realized with horror what had transpired.

    "Oh, my God," she gasped, enduring the pain in her battered body. With one hand cradling the baby and the other supporting herself, she struggled to her feet. Rushing to the railing, her eyes fell upon a gaping hole in the ice, a gruesome testament to Melina''s desperate plunge.

    "Someone, please help her!"

    Ferrena cried out desperately, her voice carried away by the relentless wind and swirling snow. Her anxious pleas barely traveled twenty feet before being swallowed by the unforgiving tempest. She knew it was a futile hope to expect a nearly seventy-year-old woman like her to leap into the icy river. Her heart pounded with desperation as she paced back and forth, shouting frantically for assistance, yet there was no response.

    "Ma''am, you are a kind soul. I''m deeply sorry for my earlier actions. Please, take care of this child," Melina implored, her voice trembling with tears, moments before the frigid waters consumed her entirely.

    "You are his mother. This is your responsibility. How could you expect an elderlydy, nearly toothless, to bear this burden!" Ferrena continued to cry out, determined to save Melina''s life.

    "Please, grandma, watch over him,"

    Melina whispered just before the water enveloped herpletely. In the midst of the biting cold, her voice remained resolute, "This child''s name is... Bryan Watson."

 0133 What Happened Next?

    0133 What Happened Next?

    "Your mother¡­I mean that girl"

    When Professor Watson finished recounting the tragic story of how he became an orphan at a young age, Harry felt a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest. He had been listening with wide-eyed shock and disbelief for a while, but now he realized that he couldn''t find a proper word to refer to the woman named Melina Depp!

    The Dursleys had always tried their best to ignore him and even abuse him for so many years, but even so, Harry had to admit that they were qualified parents in some sense, because they treated their son Dudley with affection and care. And this woman named Melina¡­shepletely shattered Harry''s conception of what ''parents'' meant!

    "She was eventually¡­"

    "Dead."

    Bryan rubbed his fingers together, his expressions wereplex.

    "By the time Grandma Ferrena finally managed to get some help, she had been swept away by the raging water for a long time. The river was frozen over and covered with a thickyer of snow, so no one knew where she ended up or if they could ever find her body."

    ''This was a fitting end for someone who did such a horrible thing.''

    Harry thought so in his heart, but he didn''t dare to say it out loud. He didn''t want to upset Professor Watson any further.

    Outside the room, the rainstorm had died down, and the antique clock leaning against the wall opposite the two people ticked loudly as it marked the passing of time. The noise outside the corridor grew louder and louder, and Harry could hear some sobbing and crying sounds mixed in it, but no one dared to intrude into this private reception room from beginning to end.

    Harry lowered his head and stared at the luxurious velvet carpet under his feet. He suddenly felt a surge of gratitude for his own fate. True, his parents were killed by Voldemort shortly after he was born, but Harry could be certain of one thing: his parents loved him dearly and they sacrificed their lives to protect him from harm.

    "Do you hate them?"

    "No, I don''t."

    Bryan shook his head and gave an answer that stunned Harry.

    "I don''t resent them, just as I don''t love them. I just think it''s a very sad and unfortunate thing that happened to them and to me."

    The rain had stopped, but the sky was still gloomy and overcast. Bryan stood up and walked to the window and opened it. He looked at the crowd of people who had quickly gathered downstairs in the yard. They were all dressed in ck and had solemn expressions on their faces. Then he squinted his eyes and took a few deep breaths of fresh air after the rain. He felt a slight breeze on his face and his mood gradually improved.

    "What about your maternal grandfather and grandmother?"

    After a long silence, Harry raised his head and asked curiously, "Have you ever tried to find out what happened to them?"

    "They ah¨C"

    Bryan smiled faintly at the birds that flew past in front of him. He stretched outzily and said in a nonchnt tone,

    "I heard from their neighbors that not long after their worthless daughter brought a child on their doorstep, they packed up their things and moved away. They said they moved to a city in America."

    Harry wanted to ask Professor Watson if he had ever felt the urge to visit his maternal grandparentster, but when he opened his mouth, he suddenly realized that this was a very pointless question, so he quietly shut it again.

    At this moment, there was a knock on the door outside. After getting Professor Watson''s permission, the door was pushed open gently. The old butler Lawrence came in with a stack of paper-like documents and walked slowly towards them.

    The very courteous Lawrence walked past Harry without even ncing at him. He came directly to Professor Watson who was standing by the window. He bowed respectfully with sorrow on his face.

    Harry didn''t mind Lawrence''s indifference towards him, nor did he wonder why he had that look on his face. These were all self-evident things.

    "Young master¨C"

    Lawrence''s eyes were red and his voice was hoarse.

    "I''ve told you, Lawrence, my name is Bryan Watson, not ''young master'',"

    Bryan looked at this old butler who had served two generations of masters of the Watson family faithfully. His heart was also filled with mixed emotions. This old butler might be the only person in this house who he was willing to talk to more than necessary.

    Lawrence''s lips twitched slightly. He looked at the young man in front of him as if he saw ude Watson twenty years ago,

    "Follow your will¨C"

    Lawrence sniffed and nodded, "In the past two years since Master fell ill, he had secretly sold most of the assets owned by the Watson family, including Grunnings Drill Company. His original intention was to donate all the money to charity, to support various causes such as education, health, and environment."

    Bryan raised his eyebrows and guessed what Lawrence was going to say next.

    "¨CBut just now, Mr. Watson changed his will. He left all the money and this mansion to you."

    Bryan smiled and asked with interest, "Can I ask how much money is there?"

    "Stocks of fivepanies, three mansions in London and Birmingham, a vi on Mallorca Ind, a Mediterranean paradise, luxury cars, some antiques from various countries in the world, yachts¡­ it was handled hastily, so in the end, we only got¡­""

    Lawrence quickly said a number that made Bryan''s eyes widen and his mouth twitch.

    What a ''only got''! Bryan rolled his eyes and almost choked.

    Even Harry, who had gradually tended to ''galleons, sickles and knuts'' for the concept of money, widened his eyes when he heard this number, and his heart suddenly slowed down by half a beat! He wondered how many chocte frogs he could buy with that fortune.

    ''If the Dursleys knew about this, they would probably faint with jealousy-'' Harry thought so.

    "If you have no objections, these documents need your signature." Lawrence handed the documents to Bryan.

    "No need, Lawrence, just do as he intended before."

    Bryan bypassed the documents and walked to the door. Halfway through, he put his arm on Harry''s shoulder and took him away.

    "Are we going to have lunch, Professor Watson?"

    Harry asked with some confusion. "Oh, I don''t know why, but I suddenly lost my appetite,"

    Bryan blinked and smiled, "And since the rain has stopped, I think we might as well leave first."

    Neither Harry nor the old butler Lawrence showed any surprise at Bryan''s choice.

    "Mr. Watson¨C"

    The door opened. When Bryan and Harry were about to disappear from sight, Lawrence suddenly called out to them. Facing the questioning gaze, he choked a few times,

    "Young Master , this house, it''s been the ancestral home of the Watson family for generations. It has witnessed the glory and decline of your family. It is a part of your heritage¡­"

    Looking at this white-haired old butler who was loyal to the Watson family, Bryan slowly nodded.

    "Since that''s the case, Lawrence, then you shall be the one to look after it for the Watson family. You have served them faithfully for so long. You deserve to live here peacefully andfortably."

    "I won''t say goodbye to your uncle and aunt, Potter¨C"

    Outside the house on Privet Drive No. 4, Bryan got out of the taxi and said. He noticed Potter''s astonishment and exined with a smile,

    "Because I found that your uncle and aunt don''t seem to like me very much."

    "Oh, they don''t like anything rted to magic."

    Harry also grinned, but then he restrained his smile and showed reluctance,

    "So where are you going next, Professor Watson?"

    "A few days ago, something happened that caused some changes in my body, so I''m nning to rest in a hotel for a few days and get used to these changes. Oh, maybe I should find a ce to stay permanently. Living in hotels all the time is not ideal!"

    Hearing this question, Bryan rubbed his brow tiredly, "After that, I n to look for someone''s whereabouts."

    He did not borate on who that someone was or why he wanted to find them. He only gave Harry a mysterious smile. After speaking, Bryan waved his hand at Harry who didn''t understand what was going on. He turned around and left. His figure soon disappeared at the corner of the road.

    For More Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0134 Old Friends

    0134 Old Friends

    The Malfoy family''s mansion is located in the secluded countryside of Wiltshire, Ennd. It is a spacious and exquisite estate that covers two hundred acres ofnd, surrounded by a high stone wall and an iron gate. The gate is guarded by a pair of fierce stone lions, carved with the Malfoy crest on their chests. No one can enter without the permission of the master of the house.

    Inside the estate, there are carefully designed gardens surrounding the majestic vi. As a symbol of the family, beautiful and elegant white peacocks stroll on the greenwn that can be used as a muggle golf course. Their feathers reflect the moonlight, creating a dazzling contrast with the dark night. On the many small squares scattered in the garden, there are also artistic statues and fountains, depicting scenes from ancient myths and legends. The water sshes gently, creating a soothing sound.

    In the center of the estate, there is a vi thatbines ssical and dignified styles. It is built with white marble and ck granite, giving it a striking appearance. In front of the door, more than a dozen white pirs stand tall to support the mansion. They are engraved with intricate patterns and runes, adding a touch of mystery and elegance. In the spacious hall, the walls are hung with portraits of the Malfoy family''s masters from past generations. They all wear expensive robes and jewelry, showing their noble status and wealth. The precious marble tiles that decorate the floor curl up with white swirls, like snakes or vines. The ebony doors and windows are finely carved with floral motifs and animals. Under the shade of the trees, they highlight the magnificent and majestic beauty of this luxurious vi.

    Late at night, the stars in the sky sprinkle clear starlight on the quiet estate. The peacocks resting on the huge gilded birdcage asionally make crisp cries. But these cries do not break the pleasant silence, but rather set off this tranquility more distant.

    Bang¨C With a few abrupt explosions, several figures suddenly appeared in front of the exquisite iron gate. These people hid their faces under ck traveling cloaks and could not see their features. However, each of them was surrounded by a thick and indelible smell of blood that made one nauseous. They also carried wands in their hands, ready to cast spells at any time.

    Looking at the brightly lit vi, the leader raised his head slightly, revealing his messy beard and his mouth with sores on the corners. Inside his mouth, there were sharp yellow teeth that looked like rotten wood. His eyes were bloodshot and wild, full of malice and madness.

    "This is it, huh? How luxurious, how enviable. I hope the owner of the house won''t mind our strange smell." The man said smugly, amid the snickeringughter of his subordinates behind him, he slowly stretched out a hand from under his cloak.

    Under the bright moonlight, that hand showed a metallic silver color, shining brightly. The color was very beautiful, but the shape was not so pleasing to the eye. It was like the most clumsy craftsman made it with melted wax. This hand was full of pits and bumps, or swollen pus bags that oozed yellow liquid.

    The man''s eyes swept over his arm, and hatred shed in his eyes. This hatred was so intense that it made his breathing disorderly.

    "Wait and see¨C" The man gritted his teeth, "When I find you, I will treat you well!"

    Study, Lucius Malfoy sat in a high-backed soft chair behind his desk, looking at the man opposite him who was greedily looking at the exquisite peacock painting on the wall made with thousands of gems. The painting was one of his prized possessions, a gift from his father Abraxas Malfoy. It showed a scene from their family history, when they allied with King Arthur against Mordred.

    His face was pale and his expression was grim. From his tightly clenched cane, one could see that he was in a very bad mood.

    "How dare you¨C" Malfoy almost held his breath, otherwise, the smell of blood and sweat mixed from that man''s body might make him turn around and leave. He had to use all his self-control to not hex him on the spot.

    "How dare you, just barge into my house so recklessly, Greyback, who gave you the courage!" Malfoy roared in a low voice, "Do you know how much galleons I have to spend to smooth out this trouble if someone finds out!"

    He had already bribed several Ministry officials to cover up that incident. He did not want anyone to know that he had any connection with this werewolf gang leader.

    "Ah, galleons¨C" Hearing this sensitive word, Greyback fixed his eyes on Lucius, baring his yellow teeth and showing a creepy smile. His face was covered with scars and fur, and his ears were pointed like a wolf''s. He looked more like a beast than a human.

    "We all love galleons!" He said mockingly, "Especially when theye from such a generous and noble family as yours, Lucius."

    Malfoy''s breathing became rapid, and cold light shed in his gray eyes. But a strange red appeared on his pale cheeks. He realized that this person opposite him was a dangerous madman through and through. It was a very stupid thing to lose his temper. What he should do now is to get rid of him as soon as possible.

    "If you came to me for the galleons, Greyback, you can leave now, I''ll have someone send it to you." He said coldly, trying to sound calm and authoritative.

    He did not want to deal with this werewolf any longer than necessary. He only hired him and his gang to do some dirty work for the Dark Lord, but he did not expect them to be so reckless and greedy.

    "We''ve all worked under the Dark Lord, Lucius, we''re old friends¨C"

    Greyback said in a sly tone, "Don''t you want to invite me in for a cup of tea? Or maybe introduce me to your lovely wife and son?"

    Malfoy''s cold attitude of rejecting people from a thousand miles away made the most notorious werewolf in the wizarding world sh a glint of fierceness in his dull pupils. He looked at Malfoy''s neck, as if studying what angle would be more suitable if he wanted to bite. He could almost taste the blood of the pure-blood aristocrat, and feel the thrill of tearing his flesh.

    Zizi¨C Greyback stretched out that weird hand from under his cloak again, he popped out the ws under his nails and scratched the desk surface with a few scratches, satisfyingly seeing the fear in Malfoy''s eyes. The desk was made of mahogany wood, polished and carved with exquisite patterns. It was a valuable antique that Malfoy had inherited from his ancestors. Now it was ruined by this savage beast.

    "Now outside, our old friends are not many, Lucius, I came to see you, just to reminisce about those happy, free days, but you, but show so cold¨C"

    If he had full confidence, then Lucius Malfoy might have pulled out the wand hidden in his cane without hesitation, and rewarded this wolf who had no fear or bottom line with a green light, then took his head to the Ministry of Magic and mixed a third-ss Merlin medal back, but unfortunately, Malfoy did not have this confidence, especially, Narcissa and Draco were still resting in the bedroom upstairs, if they fought, Malfoy did not have the confidence to protect their safety.

    Ever since he met Bryan Watson, who had stepped down from the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts at the Leaky Cauldron at Tom''s Pub some time ago, Lucius Malfoy hadpletely woken up. Sometimes, shiny galleons are not omnipotent.

    And now, this notorious werewolf in front of him once again deepened his impression.

    If you don''t have absolute confidence to suppress someone so that they can''t turn over, then it is unwise to show too strong hostility. This has always been Lucius Malfoy''s way of dealing with people. However, Greyback''s appearance deepened Malfoy''s fear of what Bryan Watson had told him before.

    Malfoy silently stood up and walked to the wine rack. He took out a bottle of red currant rum and poured it for Greyback and himself. Then he sat back in his seat. There was still coldness in his eyes, but his tone was much calmer.

    "Tell me what you want."

    The wine rack was filled with various kinds of wines from different countries and regions. They were all rare and expensive, collected by Malfoy over the years. He usually only drank them on special asions or with important guests. But now he had to offer them to this lowly creature who did not know how to appreciate them.

    "This is the attitude that a friend should have, Lucius¨C"

    Greyback raised his ss and smiled smugly. He fiddled with the ss, pinching the goblet with various gestures, and asionally asked how to hold it to conform to the etiquette of the ''upper ss''. He was mocking Malfoy''s pride and manners, trying to provoke him and make him lose hisposure.

    "I just want to ask you for a small favor, old friend¨C"

    The werewolf leader raised his head and drank half a ss of wine. Then he licked his lips happily. He enjoyed the taste of the wine, but more than that, he enjoyed the taste of power. He knew that Malfoy was afraid of him and his gang.

    "We want to use your connections to find out about someone, old friend. I think you won''t refuse this humble request, will you?"

    "Who are you looking for?"

    Malfoy blinked and asked sinctly. He hoped that it was not someone he cared about or someone who could cause him trouble. He hoped that it was someone he could easily find and hand over to Greyback without any consequences.

    "A cunning and despicable viin. We don''t know his real name."

    Greyback exuded a mad aura. He put down his ss and showed a ferocious smile. His smile revealed his sharp teeth and his tongue that was stained with blood. He looked like a hungry wolf that had found its prey.

    "He calls himself ''Golden Viper'' in his hole. With your skills, old friend, I think this is easy, right?"

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0135 Payment

    0135 Payment

    Malfoy did not utter a word, and the study fell into a tense silence for a while. He could feel the cold sweat on his forehead, and the grip on his wand tightened unconsciously. He knew he was facing a dangerous situation, and he had to be careful with his words and actions.

    He was dealing with Golden Viper - a mysterious and notorious neer who had emerged in the dark underworld in the past two or three years. Golden Viper had quickly gained fame and fortune for his highpletion rate ofmissioned tasks and his formidable strength. He could be regarded as a powerful and influential figure in the shady circles.

    Of course, what helped his reputation the most was the group of werewolves that he had shed with several times, led by Fenrir Greyback, who was standing in front of him right now. Greyback was a savage and bloodthirsty beast, who had bitten and infected many innocent people, including children. He was also a loyal follower of Lord Voldemort, who had entrusted him with recruiting more werewolves for his cause.

    Even Lucius Malfoy, who never personally set foot in that filthy ce, had heard many rumors and stories from the Ministry of Magic and some secret channels. He had learned that in the many conflicts between Golden Viper and the werewolves, this group of vicious creatures had suffered heavy losses, and even Fenrir Greyback himself had almost lost his life at the hands of that cunning snake.

    To be honest, when Greyback said he wanted to inquire about someone, Malfoy had a vague guess in his mind, and Greyback''s answerter confirmed his suspicion.

    "I think you are looking for the wrong person, Greyback."

    Malfoy maintained a stiff posture and said indifferently, trying to hide his emotions. "I don''t have many friends or contacts in that disgusting ce. If you really want to find out about this person, I can suggest you go to Kakus Fawley of the Fawley family. He specializes in this kind of thing. He knows everything that happens there."

    "Oh Kakus Fawley,"

    Greyback grinned with yellow teeth and looked insane. His eyes shed with malice and hatred.

    "We are not fools, old friend. There are rumors that Kakus Fawley has a good rtionship with Golden Viper. They have worked together on some asions. If we go to him, then that despicable snake might get the news in advance and escape from our grasp!"

    Hmph¨C

    Malfoy let out a barely audible sneer of contempt. If he wasn''t afraid of offending Greyback, he really wanted to remind him how half of his body became like this. He had seen the scars and wounds on Greyback''s face and torso, which were left by Golden Viper''s spells and des. He knew that Greyback had barely survived that encounter, and he was still seeking revenge!?

    But unfortunately, his sneer was still heard by Greyback, who had keen senses like a wolf. The werewolf red fiercely at him, and his face twisted with rage,

    "We admit that the despicable guy is very powerful, old friend, but this time it''s different. We have gathered arge team of our brothers and sisters, and we have cultivated a batch of special nts that can weaken his magic. As long as we know his true identity and whereabouts, wait and see, old friend. I will hang his skeleton on the Merlin statue in the small square to remind everyone that the power of werewolves is not to be ignored!"

    As Greyback''s face changed, Malfoy almost drew out his wand and attacked first. But fortunately, he finally suppressed his impulse. He knew that fighting Greyback here would only bring more trouble for himself. He had to find a way to get rid of him as soon as possible.

    ''Should he help Greyback find Golden Viper?''

    This was actually not an important question. The key to the question was what would happen next if he found him.

    If Greyback and his group of lowly beasts managed to kill Golden Viper, it would not do Malfoy any bad or good. But if Golden Viper was really as powerful as the rumors said, and he killed Greyback instead, then Malfoy would be in big trouble too. He believed that such a clever and ruthless wizard could easily dig out some information from the werewolve''s mouths before killing them.

    Lucius Malfoy, who was already annoyed by Bryan Watson''s words earlier that day, really didn''t want to cause any more trouble for himself at this time.

    "I''m sorry, Greyback¨C"

    After weighing the pros and cons, Malfoy gave a negative answer, hoping to end this conversation soon.

    "As I said before, apart from Fawley, I don''t have much ess or influence there either. My suggestion is still to go to Fawley for inquiries. He is the best source of information you can find. Of course, if you are worried that he will leak the news to Golden Viper, why not pay a visit to Kakus Fawley''s family first? You have always been good at doing this, right? You can make him talk or silence him as you wish."

    Refusing a gentleman''s request is easy, but to Greyback like this kind of madman, you can''t just say ''sorry, I can''t help'' and send it away with a polite smile.

    "Kakus Fawley''s family, you don''t need to remind me, old friend. We have considered it¨C"

    Greyback made a low and menacing whimper that only wolves would make when they felt threatened or challenged,

    "But in the end we decided to give up. Fawley has a good reputation and influence there. If we really attack him or his family, then we will be unable to move or operate there. The wizarding world does not ept or tolerate werewolves. We can''t lose that ce either. It''s our only refuge and source of ie. And he himself is a very cunning and clever guy. His family is also very cautious and well-protected. I can see that. They are not easy targets."

    Under Malfoy''s suddenly alert and wary gaze, Greyback who obviously showed displeasure and impatience stood up abruptly from his seat,

    "You don''t want to help, do you? Don''t want to help us poor old friends who are in a bad and desperate situation."

    ''In the case where Voldemort has already fallen and the future is uncertain, any sane and rational wizard would not want to have anything to do with you or your kind.''

    Malfoy''s face was pale and cold and he thought so. Just as he was wondering what reason or excuse to refuse, Greyback suddenly let out a mournful and eerie howl, but did not transform into his wolf form.

    Just as Malfoy was stunned and confused by this strange behavior, there was a sudden sound of hurried and heavy footsteps from the floor above the study, followed by two familiar voices of horror and screams that made Lucius Malfoy''s face change drastically into a look of fear and anger.

    "How dare you threaten my family, Greyback!"

    Malfoy drew out his hidden wand from the cane with lightning speed and pointed it at the werewolf''s eye who had a triumphant smile on his face,

    "If Narcissa and Draco are hurt a little bit, I swear by the honor and pride of the Malfoy family, I will make everything rted to werewolves in Britain disappearpletely! I will hunt you down one by one and make you suffer a thousand times more than what you did to them!" Malfoy roared angrily.

    "It''s not easy to refuse a werewolf''s request, old friend. Do you think I would be stupid enough to break into the famous and well-guarded Malfoy Manor alone to ask for your help?"

    Greyback, who had nothing to fear or lose, ignored the wand that almost touched his eyshes and sneered contemptuously.

    "What do you want to do!"

    Malfoy''s voice trembled slightly. His wand pointed at Greyback''s eye. As long as he moved his wrist slightly and recited the spell, he could end Greyback''s lifepletely. But he didn''t dare, because he knew that if he really did it, then Narcissa and Draco''s lives would probably not be saved!

    Greyback did not answer the question directly, but retracted his silver hand back into his cloak and fumbled for a while. After a while, he took out a wolf w.

    This w emitted a foul and rotten smell, was ck and cracked all over, and looked like it had been burned by fire or acid.

    Bang!

    Under Malfoy''s puzzled and frightened gaze, Greyback split his mouth wide open and showed a crazy and wicked smile,

    "In the underworld, it is necessary to pay for asking someone for help. And you know, we are all poor guys who can''t afford a few galleons. So I took out my most precious and valuable thing as a reward. I hope you keep it well¨C"

    Malfoy was sure that even on the day when he learned that the Dark Lord had fallen, his face would not be as ugly and horrified as it is now. Greyback nced greedily at the gemstone peacock picture on the wall twice, then turned and walked towards the door without looking back.

    "If you don''t get any news for too long, old friend, we wille again."

    ng¨C A chilling and metallic sound came from behind the door. Lucius Malfoy slowly put down his wand and copsed on the soft chair.

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0136 Solution

    0136 Solution

    Before Lucius Malfoy had time to vent his frustration, the hurried and panicked footsteps on the floor above made him jump up from his chair. He looked at the charred w on the table that made him sick and nauseous. It was a ''souvenir'' from the werewolves who had invaded his manor at night, demanding his help in finding their enemy. He felt a surge of anger and disgust, but also fear and helplessness. He knew he had to deal with this situation quickly, before it got out of hand. After his cheek twitched violently a few times, he waved his wand and threw the w into the drawer, as if trying to erase the memory of the encounter.

    "Dear!"

    Narcissa, wearing a silk robe and holding a wand, rushed down from the stairs. Her blonde hair was messy, and her blue eyes were wide with anxiety. Behind her, Draco, who was pale and terrible, shivered and held the stair railing and followed. He looked like he had just woken up from a nightmare.

    "There were two people, Dad,"

    Cold sweat soaked Draco''s blond hair, and his light gray eyes were full of horror. He spoke in a trembling voice, as if he was afraid that the intruders would hear him.

    "I was sleeping, and suddenly I felt someone pressing on me, wearing a ck cloak. One covered my mouth, and the other grew ws on his hand and aimed at my eyes!"

    Draco''s description made Narcissa tremble. At this moment, her expression was hard to say whether it was fear or anger. She clenched her teeth and tightened her grip on her wand.

    "My situation is almost the same. Is it them!, they"

    "Draco¨C" Lucius interrupted his wife''s words. His face was iron blue, and his hoarse voice was extremely suppressed. He nced at the door, as if expecting someone to barge in at any moment.

    "Go upstairs and get your quilt. Tonight, you will rest in my study. Go now!"

    Draco was stunned, then showed an unwilling expression. He knew that his parents were going to discuss important matters. He wanted to join in, but his father''s serious order made him unable to resist. He could only turn around reluctantly and go upstairs to get the bedding.

    Narcissa escorted Draco into the study before returning to a small room thirty feet away from the study. The room was dimly lit by a firece, and there were several portraits of their ancestors on the walls. They all looked stern and proud, as if judging their descendants for their predicament.

    "What''s going on, dear!" As soon as she entered the room, Narcissa asked eagerly. She closed the door behind her and locked it with a spell.

    "What do those werewolves want to do!"

    "Greyback brought a few werewolves to our door¨C"

    Only when his closest wife was present did Lucius not have to hide his exhaustion. He leaned back on the chair, closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. He felt a headacheing on.

    "Greyback hopes I can help him find out the whereabouts of an enemy."

    As a couple who shared weal and woe, Narcissa knew most of what Lucius knew. Without much thinking, Narcissa guessed it.

    "Is it that Golden Viper who made them suffer several times?"

    "Without waiting for her husband''s affirmative reply, Narcissa snapped,

    "Why don''t they go to Kakus Fawley? He knows more about the wizards in that ce than we do!"

    After Lucius briefly told Narcissa about his conversation with Greyback, she immediately became furious and shivered.

    "He dared to threaten you!"

    Narcissa''s arm holding the wand shook in mid-air. She pointed it furiously at one of the portraits, as if imagining it was Greyback''s face.

    "Do they think we are easy to bully? A bunch of dirty and stinky scums who dare to do this, threaten the Malfoy family; break into my son''s bedroom. I swear¡­. I will kill them all!"

    Lucius''s eyes were gloomy and terrifying. He stared at the wand in his hand, but did not respond to his wife''s furious ranting.

    "¨CI don''t care how much money it costs, dear. Go to the Ministry of Magic, go to Fudge, as long as he is willing to order Aurors to hunt down all those filthy werewolves in Britain, we can agree to whatever he wants. And that underworld, we can also issuemissions there. A thousand galleons for a werewolf corpse. I want them all wiped out!"

    Narcissa walked around the room, hating her teeth.

    "Moody and Scrimgeour have been looking for Greyback for more than ten years, and they haven''t touched a single wolf hair."

    Lucius''s voice was still hoarse. "These guys are more cunning than sewer rats. The Ministry of Magic has no ability to catch them all at once. And,"

    Lucius looked at Narcissa and gasped for a few times. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead, and his heart was pounding. He knew that they were in a very dangerous situation, and he had to find a way out.

    "We all know that this will bring endless retaliation. We did the same when we were under the Dark Lord. For those who fell willingly and dared to resist, we caught the rebels and their families and tortured them with the most powerful Cruciatus Curse. Finally, we ended their lives with the Killing Curse. Greyback won''t use the Killing Curse against us. He has more ways to make us worse than death. It is because of his ''talent'' that the Dark Lord was willing to ept him and his pack."

    He spoke in a low voice, recalling the horrors of the past. He remembered how they had enjoyed inflicting pain and fear on their enemies, how they had followed the Dark Lord''s orders without question, how he had thought they were superior to everyone else. But now, they were the ones who were threatened and hunted by a group of savage beasts, who had no respect for their blood or status.

    Narcissa fell silent. The reason why she was so hysterical was because she was worried about the oue described by her husband. She loved her family more than anything, and she would do anything to protect them. She couldn''t bear the thought of losing them, or seeing them suffer.

    This silencested for a long time. Narcissa sat next to Lucius, and neither of them spoke. They held each other''s hands, trying to find somefort and strength in their bond.

    "Are you going to help him with this¨C"

    After a long time, Narcissa asked in a voice full of unwillingness. She hated the idea of helping Greyback, but she also feared their wrath.

    "The Auror Office has been secretly investigating the identities of those active wizards in the underworld. They do have some information. I will go to Fudge and ask to see the list."

    Lucius Malfoy raised his head and looked at the magicmp on the ceiling. Although he gave his method, his tone was very weak. Obviously, he knew that the possibility of getting a result was almost zero.

    In fact, what Lucius had just said to Greyback was not a lie. Since the Dark Lord''s downfall, he tried to cut off his connection with that side, except for the necessary channels. Even Kakus Fawley, who was born in the pure-blood family, he rarely had direct contact with him.

    The light was soft, but looking at it for a long time, Malfoy felt his eyes sore and dry. He closed his eyes again and rubbed them, trying to eliminate the bizarre lights in front of him.

    But suddenly, a person who made a deep impression on Malfoy and was extremely afraid of appeared from the blurred light, making Malfoy''s body suddenly stiff.

    <em>Bryan Watson!</em>

    Last Christmas, this person suddenly appeared in Malfoy''s vision when he was still a Hogwarts board member. He forcefully intervened in the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets attack that happened in the school. It only took him more than three months topletely end the conspiracy that he had ''unknowingly'' nned.

    And this person got the support of most of the board members through Kakus''s channel.

    He had no reputation, but his strength was frightening. He seemed gentle and soft, but his methods were cold and ruthless. In addition, he had some rtionship with Kakus. Malfoy was sure of that.

    Bryan Watson was also a wizard who often operated in the underworld.

    ''He seems to have a good impression of Draco. Maybe I can ask him about the ''Golden Viper''?''

    Lucius hesitated, but thinking of that ''pleasant'' encounter at the Leaky Cauldron, Malfoy extinguished this idea. He hoped Draco could get closer to this person, but he himself, unless there was no other way, he absolutely did not want to deal with him again!

    *******************************

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0137 Meeting Again

    0137 Meeting Again

    Bryan was blissfully unaware of the silent conspiracy that Greyback and his pack had hatched against him. If he had known, he might have weed it with a smirk. After all, he had been itching for some action since his return from the mystical Avalon Ind, where he had gained a tremendous boost in his magical power. In order to adjust to the sudden surge of magic coursing through his veins, he had checked into a secluded hotel in the outskirts of London and spent a few days in solitude, meditating and practicing his spells. When he felt that his body had fully adapted to his new level of strength, he packed his bags and headed back to the wizarding world.

    He walked into the Leaky Cauldron, the famous pub that served as a gateway between the Muggle and the magical realms. He had changed back into his wizarding robes, but he still wore a pair of sunsses to conceal his eyes, which had acquired a more sharp glow after his trip to Avalon. He scanned the dimly lit hall with a slight frown on his face.

    The Leaky Cauldron should have been bustling with activity at this time of the year, especially during the summer holidays when many young witches and wizards would visit Diagon Alley for their school supplies. The air should have been filled with the aroma of freshly baked pies, roasted meat, and butterbeer, as well as the chatter andughter of the patrons. But instead, the pub was eerily quiet and almost empty. Only near the inconspicuous seats by the wall, there were a few shady figures who covered themselves with cloaks and hats and smoked long pipes that emitted strange-smelling smoke. Bryan nced at them casually and calmly, but he felt a pang of curiosity in his heart.

    Bryan had spent a long time in the underworld, the dark and dangerous side of the wizarding world where criminals, outcasts, and rebels lurked. He had learned to recognize the ''smell'' of those who belonged to that ce, and these people definitely had it. They were not ordinary customers who came to enjoy a drink or a meal. They were here for some ulterior motive.

    Bryan didn''t think there was anything wrong with these people appearing in the Leaky Cauldron. After all, it was a public ce that weed anyone who could pay. What puzzled him was that when he looked at them with seemingly unintentional nces, they were also looking at him, and what''s more, they cast naked and undisguised probing eyes on him.

    And this, it seemed very wrong.

    The wizards who were active in the underworld knew a ''basicmon sense'', that is, not to have too strong curiosity. If you are not determined to deal with someone, then you''d better not stare at someone, otherwise you are very likely to cause some unnecessary misunderstandings. You might offend someone who was more powerful than you, or attract someone who was looking for trouble.

    These people came from there and couldn''t possibly not know thismon sense.

    "Cliodna Coffey¨C"

    The first thought that came to Bryan''s mind was whether this woman who had escaped from his hands had exposed his true identity and thus attracted a group of people who had conflicts with ''Golden Viper'' in the past. But then he thought it was unlikely.

    It''s not that he thought Cliodna wouldn''t do that, but that if she did, he wouldn''t be so ignorant.

    He still had some well-informed friends in the underworld, such as Kakus, the goblin who ran an illegal pawn shop in Knockturn Alley. If his identity was exposed, he wouldn''t get no warning.

    While Bryan was pondering over this mystery, the group of sneaky guys by the wall withdrew their eyes one after another. They looked at each other and shook their heads secretly. Then they lowered their heads and dealt with the pipes and rum on the wooden table.

    "These guys are looking for someone, but not me¨C"

    Bryan squinted his eyes and came up with this conclusion.

    Just then, arge group of people came out from the other side of the bar. They were in a hurry and carriedrge and small bags of luggage. They tightly protected a six or seven year old boy in the middle.

    "Mommy, why do we suddenly have to go to Paris?" The little boy who was almost dragged along had a look of resistance on his face and muttered,

    "Oh, I''ve told you several times already, dear. It''s because your grandmother is not feeling well. We need to go and see her¨C" A middle-aged witch with messy hair who looked like she hadn''t had time to tidy herself up before leaving answered anxiously.

    "You''re lying, Mommy. I know why." The little boy''s childish face showed dissatisfaction with the perfunctory answer. "It''s all because of that little¨C"

    "Shut your mouth, Beck!" As they passed by Bryan''s side, the boy''s father nced at him warily and scolded him in the most severe tone. "This is not something you can discuss in public. We don''t know who is reliable!"

    Bryan turned his head and watched as the family of three hurried out of the Leaky Cauldron''s door, clutching their luggage and looking over their shoulders nervously. Their figures quickly disappeared from his sight, swallowed by the busy London street. He turned his head back and happened to see that the group of people by the wall also withdrew their eyes. Their eyes met in mid-air and moved away quickly, as if they had been caught doing something wrong.

    Something was definitely wrong. And judging by the looks of it, it wasn''t a small matter.

    Bryan could smell the tense and uneasy atmosphere in the air, as if a storm was brewing. He easily came to this conclusion, based on his sharp intuition and experience.

    "Wait a minute. Let me think. Oh, yes, Minister, room 11 is still vacant. You can put him there!" A voice came from the passage next to the bar. Bryan could tell that it was the hunchbacked owner of the Leaky Cauldron, Tom, speaking. He had a friendly and respectful tone, but also a hint of fear.

    "Minister." Bryan''s eyes moved slightly.

    ''At Dinner time, the busy Minister of Magic should be appearing at the noble parties held by the pure-blood families, but he ran to the Leaky Cauldron to arrange a room for someone?'' This question crossed Bryan''s mind. In less than a second, he made a decision and decided not to meet Cornelius Fudge for the time being.

    From the two meetings before and after solving the Chamber of Secrets incidentst semester, Bryan could see that Fudge was a typical politician.

    The ''friendship criterion'' of a qualified politician is whether this person has any use value, or in other words, whether he can bring enough benefits to himself.

    Bryan didn''t want to have too much involvement with politicians, especially big politicians like the Minister of Magic. Admittedly, connections are a very valuable resource, but in order to obtain this resource, you need to pay a huge price, or, along with it, a lot of trouble.

    "¨CWell, that''s fine. As long as it''sfortable, by the way, Potter''s luggage." Fudge''s voice came from inside the passage.

    "I''ll send Mr. Potter''s luggage to his room. You don''t have to worry, Minister!" The bar owner Tom said attentively.

    Potter?! Bryan''s footsteps stopped abruptly as he was about to leave quickly. He looked at the corridor with a stunned expression.

    How many Potters in the wizarding world could make the noble Minister of Magic care about their luggage personally?

    But Potter shouldn''t be spending his summer vacation at his uncle and aunt''s house. How did he suddenly appear in the Leaky Cauldron?

    It had only been a week since theyst met. Bryan was sure he didn''t get the date wrong.

    The footsteps inside became fainter. Bryan narrowed his eyes and then changed to a friendly expression. He quickly pulled open the barrier next to the bar and walked in. His eyes jumped over Tom who wasing out and looked at the short and fat wizard in a striped cloak inside. He waved his hand and shouted,

    "Please stay, Minister Fudge!"

    Fudge stopped in his tracks as he was about to climb the stairs. He turned around and saw the young man who had called out to him by the bar. His eyes widened in recognition and delight, and his face brightened up. The deep wrinkles on his forehead that betrayed his fatigue and stress smoothed out a bit.

    "Well, well, well, if it isn''t¡­" Fudge eximed and walked towards Bryan with open arms.

    "The hero of the hour, the brilliant young wizard who cracked the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets and generously donated a priceless Basilisk to the Ministry of Magic - Bryan Watson!" He said with enthusiasm and admiration.

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0138 Trouble for Ministry

    0138 Trouble for Ministry

    The Leaky Cauldron was cold and deserted, as if the winter chill had seeped into its walls and furniture. The only sound was the crackling of the firece and the asional clink of sses. The greetings between Bryan and the Minister of Magic sounded very harsh in this quiet atmosphere, almost like a thunderbolt in a clear sky. Everyone, including the group of guys in the corner who were ying cards, turned their eyes to this side, curious and wary. Bryan did not want this matter to be known to everyone, especially those who might have ulterior motives. He nced at the bar owner Tom beside him, but unexpectedly found that this hunchbacked old man did not show the surprise expression as he expected. Instead, he smiled knowingly and nodded slightly.

    "Oh, Mr. Watson, I have a good rtionship with Hagrid, and I heard him mention it a few times-" Tom, who was very observant and discreet, lowered his head and said obediently, as if he had seen many secrets in his long life.

    Bryan pursed his lips, and a tick mark appeared on his forehead.

    "Oh, a humble young man who likes to keep a low profile-" Fudge saw all this in his eyes and smiled and said, trying to ease the tension. "But I think that sometimes a little fame is not a bad thing."

    "I just hope that my conversation with you will not be heard by some people of unknown origin-" Bryan smiled and said, then pushed open the wooden door of thepartment next to him, "I don''t know if I can have the honor to invite you for a drink?"

    Fudge hesitated for a moment, then nodded, feeling grateful for Bryan''s hospitality. He followed him into thepartment, leaving behind the curious gazes of the other customers.

    "Then I''ll take the opportunity to deal with one bite. You can''t imagine how many days I haven''t had a good meal. Tom, that kid is still waiting for me upstairs, you take care of him for me first." He said to Tom before closing the door.

    After entering the private environment, Fudge''s chubby face expression was not so rxed. Even without careful analysis, Bryan could see the frustration and loss in the heart of the leader of the current Ministry of Magic. He looked pale and tired, as if he had not slept well for a long time. His clothes were wrinkled and stained, and his hair was messy. He looked like a man who had been through a lot of trouble.

    Bryan sipped the sweet wine in his cup and stared at the candlestick on the wall with interest, waiting quietly for Fudge to finish the butter bread in his hand.

    "I want to thank you, Bryan-"

    Fudge finally broke the silence after swallowing thest bite of bread. He picked up his wine ss, and before Bryan responded, he drank two mouthfuls of rum, clearing his mouth of food. After a long sigh of relief, he smiled tiredly, "The beast left by Slytherin made us famous. Many ministers of magic from various countries wrote to me personally, hoping that I would allow the Basilisk to go abroad for exhibition. Oh, of course, I think they are mainly attracted by Szar Slytherin''s name."

    A few months ago, this Basilisk meant mainly the reward for themission task for Bryan. It was okay to hand it over to the Ministry of Magic for research and disposal. But these days after returning from Avalon Ind, Bryan thought that his decision was a bit rash. He felt that this thing might hide some deeper secrets.

    "It can only y a greater role in the hands of the Ministry of Magic, Minister."

    Bryan also put down his wine ss and smiled slightly,

    "That poor Basilisk was blinded by Dumbledore''s phoenix and hit by several of my curses. I thought it wouldn''tst long. By the way, how is its current situation?"

    "Oh, lively and energetic,"

    Speaking of this, Fudge''s fat face showed a little embarrassment,

    "Actually, this beast''s energy is too strong, more difficult to deal with than a fire dragon. Several guys from the Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures almost¡­ Cough Cough,¡­I mean, for those invitations for overseas exhibitions, some I really can''t ignore. Considering safety, we invited a master who deals with magical creatures and asked him to help tame it for a while."

    Bryan nodded and wondered if he should get the Basilisk back from Newt Scamander. He had heard of this entric wizard who traveled around the world to collect and protect various magical creatures.

    "Excuse me for being rude, Minister-"

    Neither Fudge nor Bryan intended to spend too much time on this temporary dinner. After finding out who had the Basilisk now, after a few greetings, Bryan showed appropriate curiosity,

    "You look very tired. Did the Ministry encounter any trouble recently? Oh, if it involves secrets, you can pretend I didn''t ask!"

    "Didn''t you hear about it yet, Bryan?" Fudge raised his short eyebrows and asked in surprise, "This matter is already known to everyone!"

    "I''ve been staying in the Muggle world for some days recently, so-"

    "Oh, trouble?" Fudge shook his head desperately, his whole face copsed, "No no no, that can''t be called trouble, but it should be called ''disaster''. Not my personal disaster, but the disaster of the entire Ministry of Magic. It doesn''t matter if I tell you about it, Bryan. Since I became Minister of Magic, I haven''t encountered such a tricky thing!" He said, as if he was venting his frustration and anxiety.

    Bryan didn''t interrupt, waiting quietly for Fudge to exin. He leaned back on his chair and crossed his arms, looking calm andposed. He wondered what kind of ''disaster'' could make the Minister of Magic so agitated and nervous.

    "Someone escaped from Azkaban!"

    Fudge finally blurted out the shocking news, his voice trembling slightly.

    Bryan''s eyes flickered slightly. He felt a surge of interest and curiosity. Before going to Hogwarts, someone had hung a task at Kakus''s ce to rescue Lestrange couple and Carrow siblings from the notorious wizard prison. He had thought about it, but he had given up because of the high risk and low reward.

    Could it be that someone did it? Tsk tsk, that''s twenty thousand Galleons!!! He thought, feeling a bit envious of the mysterious rescuer.

    "Sirius ck!" Fudge said a name in a heavy, almost copsed tone. His eyes were full of fear and hatred, as if he was looking at the devil himself.

    Bryan twitched his eyebrows in surprise. He recognized the name. It was one of the most infamous names in the wizarding world. The name of the man who was said to be the number one henchman of the Dark Lord, who had betrayed and killed his best friends James and Lily Potter, who had massacred twelve Muggles and a fellow wizard with a single curse.

    "If I didn''t hear it wrong, you mean that person; the one people call, The number one henchman of the Dark Lord, Sirius ck?" Bryan asked, pretending to be shocked and incredulous.

    "That''s the person, Bryan," Fudge sighed one after another, "I never dreamed of this day. I was the deputy director of the Department of Magical idents and Catastrophes at that time. The day ck was caught, I was one of the first few to arrive at the scene." He said, as if he was recalling a nightmare.

    Bryan was not interested in listening to Fudge''s memories of that year. He interrupted Fudge''s muttering and asked with a light voice,

    "So, was he rescued by someone, or did ck run out by himself?"

    "You are very sharp, Bryan." Fudge nodded approvingly, but his tone was still very depressed, "Both are possible, but we think he ran out by himself, because¡­ oh, I''m sorry, Bryan, I can''t tell you this." He said, biting his lip and looking around nervously.

    "Understandable-" Bryan raised his wine ss and saluted Fudge, smiling politely. He didn''t press further, but he felt more curious about how ck escaped from Azkaban. He wondered if he did it on his own or it had anything to do with his connection to Voldemort.

    From Fudge''s performance, it seemed that the Ministry of Magic had not figured out how he did it until now, but for his purpose of escaping from prison. Bryan nced at the direction where Potter''s magical presence was, and had a guess.

    ''Did the Dark Lord''s number one henchman escape from prison to avenge his old master? Then, does that mean that our savior Mr. Harry Potter''s task this year is to kill the Dark Lord''s right-hand man?'' He thought sarcastically.

    Perhaps realizing that his private appearance of being downcast might be spread by the young man opposite him, Fudge tried to tidy up his expression, and his voice returned to confidence. He looked at Bryan who was frowning and thinking, and smiled confidently,

    "Don''t worry too much, Bryan, we have sent out all the elites of the Ministry of Magic to track down ck, even the Dementors of Azkaban are working hard for this. I think, in a few days, you will be able to see our great victory in the Daily Prophet!" He said proudly.

    "I have confidence in you, Minister."

    Bryan chuckled politely. But he was still surprised that the Ministry of Magic sent out such creatures as Dementors to hunt down ck. He had only seen this kind of creature that made wizards fearful in books. In reality, he had never encountered it!

    He wondered what it would feel like to face a Dementor.

    ''Should I take the opportunity to get one back for research?''

    When he opened the wooden door of the private room for Fudge, Bryan thought so with a smile on his face.

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0139 Ministerâ€™s Request

    0139 Minister¡¯s Request

    Bryan and Fudge stood in the dimly lit corridor of the Leaky Cauldron, ready to say their final farewell. Although they both knew that Harry Potter was upstairs, staying in one of the shabby rooms, Bryan had no intention of going up and saying hello to him. The boy who lived was currently in a new crisis, involving a notorious mass murderer who had escaped from Azkaban. And if he got too close to him at this time, he could foresee that he might be involved in it as well.

    And that also meant that he would expose himself to Dumbledore''s sight again.

    Although he knew that fate would eventually lead him to Hogwarts, he still had a few important things to do at this time. First of all, tracing the whereabouts of Cliodna Coffey was the most important thing at the moment. The woman got a revtion from the ck shadow that popped out of the Twin Serpent Staff, which always gave Bryan a very bad feeling. He had a hunch that if Cliodna really followed the revtion of the shadow and did something, then he might bring himself a lot of trouble in the future.

    Of course, the Druids have beenpletely separated from the wizarding world for so many years, living in seclusion and secrecy. It could be expected that it would not be easy to find this woman.

    So, Bryan nned to spend some time finding a ce to live for himself - the new dormitory building at the orphanage where he had grown up had beenpleted, thanks to his generous donation. And everything was on track. Bryan''s economic situation had improved a lot. For these years, he had been in a precarious state, moving from one ce to another, hiding his identity and abilities in the knockturn alley. He should find a stable home for himself, where he could rx and research.

    After these two things were almost done, Bryan nned to get the Basilisk back from Newt Scamander. This was not easy either. Not to mention that this famous magical creature expert was not easy to deal with, having a keen interest and affection for all kinds of beasts. And it was rumored that Newt had a close rtionship with Dumbledore, who was always keeping an eye on Bryan''s activities. Once he got the news of Newt''s ''robbery'', the keen Albus Dumbledore would surely react.

    "Maybe, when Mr. Scamander returns the Basilisk to the Ministry of Magic and they exhibits it abroad, it will be a more suitable time to start -"

    As he waved goodbye with a polite smile, Bryan calcted in his heart.

    "Oh, please wait, Bryan -"

    Fudge, who had stepped on the creaky stairs, suddenly came back and called him anxiously.

    "Do you have any instructions, Minister?"

    Bryan turned around and raised his eyebrows in surprise, feeling a bad premonition in his heart.

    "I just remembered something, a bit troublesome, of course, just in case"

    Fudge rubbed his hands nervously, looking a bit embarrassed, but he still said his request.

    "You hope I can help take care of Potter who ran away from home until he returns to Hogwarts. The Ministry of Magic is worried that ck will attack Potter."

    Hearing the minister''s request, Bryan frowned slightly, and his bad premonition was confirmed.

    "Oh, this is just a possibility!"

    Fearing that he had revealed something that he shouldn''t have, Fudge quickly exined, "Actually, this should be done by the Ministry of Magic, but oh, you know, the Ministry of Magic is short of staff now. In order to find ck, we even sent Eric who guards the door at night. To be honest, I have to discuss with Barty about expanding recruitment from Hogwarts next year. Bryan, you have been Potter''s professor before. You must have a good rtionship with that kid. And your strength is superb."

    "I''m sorry, Minister."

    Before Fudge finished speaking, Bryan interrupted him regretfully, "I wish I could help with this, but some tricky things have recently entangled me. I have to deal with them first."

    "Okay."

    Fudge nodded disappointedly. Even as the Minister of Magic, he had no right to demand others to obey his orders, especially someone who had a Merlin second-ss medal and was not an employee of the Ministry of Magic. Fudge muttered as he went up the stairs again,

    "Following that kid might have a chance to meet him. Oh, as long as there is reliable information, how much is ten thousand Galleons!"

    ''How much?!''

    Bryan, who was d that he had got rid of the trouble of taking care of Potter, felt his heart skip half a beat. He took a few steps up the stairs and rudely grabbed Fudge''s shoulder, spinning him around. His eyes sparkled with excitement,

    "I''m afraid I didn''t hear it wrong. Minister, did you say that as long as you kill Sirius ck, the Ministry of Magic will give out ten thousand Galleons?"

    "Kill ck?"

    Looking at Bryan who suddenly became too eager, Fudge was stunned for a while, thenughed dryly,

    "What are you talking about, Bryan?"

    Fudge''s eyes widened in disbelief as he heard Bryan''s eager question. He shook his head andughed dryly.

    "Even in Azkaban, ck was one of the most vicious and dangerous ones. Only trained elite wizards from the Ministry of Magic and Dementors can deal with such scums. We don''t expect anyone else to be able to subdue him, unless there is some solid evidence¨C"

    Bryan nodded repeatedly, looking like he understood. "So if I kill him, or capture him alive, Minister, will the reward be more?"

    "If that''s the case, Bryan¨C" Fudge smiled slightly, his expression as if he was facing a young man with unrealistic fantasies. He said cheerfully, "That''s not just a matter of Galleons, Bryan. If you really hand over ck to us like that Basilisk you brought back from Egypt, then you will undoubtedly be the most dazzling hero in the wizarding world. Your second-ss medal will also be a first-ss one."

    The first-ss medal was nothing to Bryan, and the hero title was a joke, but the real ten thousand Galleons¡­

    "No problem, Minister." Bryan said righteously. "I will take good care of Potter until I find ck. I will follow him every step of the way. Anyway, I am not in the same world as evil!"

    Fudge was speechless for a moment. He didn''t know whether to be grateful or suspicious of Bryan''s sudden enthusiasm.

    The sun had set, and Potter leaned on the soft pillow, looking at the desk with respectful eyes. There sat the professor who was writing on the parchment with a feather pen.

    No pain, no gain. There is no free excellence in this world. Bryan Watson was able to walk his own magic path at such a young age and have a magical strength that others could not match. Talent could not exin all these things. Potter admired Bryan''s achievements and wanted to learn from him. He hoped that one day he could also be a powerful and independent wizard like him.

    "¨CSo, you inted your aunt? Haha, interesting. Fudge said you ran away from home. I thought you had some conflict with your uncle and aunt."

    Harry scratched his cheek embarrassedly and smiled. To be honest, he never dreamed that he would meet Professor Watson so soon. Before, when Fudge and Professor Watson appeared in front of him together and told him that because of the turbulent situation, Professor Watson would take care of him until school started, he almost dropped his jaw.

    And this also let Harry know how much panic the Voldemort''s minion caused to the Ministry of Magic.

    Fudge told him that letting Professor Watson apany him was just to prevent a possibility, but he didn''t say what it was.

    Thinking of the Ministry of Magic''s tolerance for himself, and the Minister of Magic personally looking for him, Harry immediately realized that the Ministry of Magic basically confirmed that this ck escaped from prison most likely to find him to avenge Voldemort. Otherwise, how could such a big figure as the Minister of Magic personally look for a lost little wizard?

    But for some reason, Harry didn''t feel too scared, but rather had an inexplicable sense of expectation. Maybe it was because there was Dumbledore at school, and Professor Watson outside. Harry wished that ck woulde to him soon and bump into him.

    "That ck, professor¨C"

    Seeing that Professor Watson''s feather pen stopped moving for a while, Harry took the opportunity to ask, "He is a very powerful guy, right? Otherwise, the Ministry of Magic wouldn''t be so nervous?"

    "Maybe, Potter¨C" Bryan rubbed his eyes and yawned, "I only heard some rumors about him before he was caught. I can''t give you a reliable evaluation."

    "But he definitely won''t be your opponent, right?" Harry asked eagerly.

    "Hmm¡­ That ck blew up half a street with one spell before he was arrested. More than a dozen Muggles died on the spot,"

    Bryan stood up from his desk, shaking his sore neck.

    "Indeed, he is very powerful," Bryan muttered sarcastically, "I can probably beat a dozen of him at a time."

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 0140 Dilemma

    0140 Dilemma

    Leaving the Dursleys and staying at the Leaky Cauldron was much more pleasant than he had imagined. For the first time in years, he had a carefree summer vacation. He could sleep until the sun was already spitting out scorching heat,zily go downstairs for breakfast, and watch the other guests passing by the bar while chewing on toast. He enjoyed the freedom andfort of the wizarding world, away from the nagging and abuse of his rtives.

    But because of Sirius ck''s escape, the business of the Leaky Cauldron had plummeted, and the wizards who stayed there became more and more weird. Most of them liked to hide their faces underrge ck cloaks oryers of bandages. They looked like they were afraid of being recognized or attacked by someone.

    These people would hide in the corners or behind the wooden pirs that supported the bar, order a drink, and stare at the pedestrians all day long. They rarely spoke to anyone, except for whispering some rumors or gossips.

    Harry had asked Professor Watson what these strange wizards were doing.

    "Competitors, Potter, these are all mypetitors."

    Professor Watson red at those wizards with a ''fierce'' and ''gritting'' tone, giving him an answer that he couldn''t figure out. Harry wondered what kind ofpetition they were in, and why Professor Watson seemed so angry about it.

    For the first few days, Harry was preparing for the next school year. He withdrew his living expenses from Gringotts, replenished his potion materials, bought new robes, and purchased textbooks for the next year. Harry figured out why Hagrid had sent him a book that looked very unsettling and said it woulde in handy. It was a textbook for Care of Magical Creatures, a new elective course that Harry had chosen along with Ron and Hermione.

    With Professor Watson''s guidance, Harry easily figured out what to write for his summer homework for the two courses that bothered him the most - History of Magic and Potions. He helped him find some interesting facts and anecdotes from the history books, and gave him some tips and tricks for brewing potions.

    A weekter, Harry was ready to enjoy the wonderful summer vacation after finishing all the preparations for school, but Professor Watson''s behavior became strange.

    Every morning after getting up, he took Harry around Diagon Alley, not on the busymercial street, but specifically picking those secluded alleys where few people passed by. He let Harry wander around in those alleys by himself, while he hung far behind.

    He pretended to be casual, but Harry could feel his eyes watching him closely. This was really puzzling. Harry didn''t want to waste his good time on exploring dark and remote alleys. He wanted to go to those lively shops, especially the Quidditch boutique, where Harry saw what he wanted most in his life.

    "The fastest flying broom in the world, the Irish International Club just ced an order for seven of these fine products!" The shopkeeper shouted enthusiastically. "They are the darlings for next year''s World Cup!"

    He was talking about Firebolt, a sleek and shiny broom that looked like it could fly faster than lightning. Harry''s eyes widened as he saw the broom on disy. He felt a surge of longing and excitement in his chest. He wanted to touch it, to feel it, to fly with it.

    "Stop looking, Potter!"

    Bryan pulled Harry out of the crowd from the front. Seeing his desire in his eyes, Bryan said with ack of interest and nced at the disyed ''broom'',

    "We have serious things to do!"

    Harry looked at Firebolt reluctantly until he walked away. Then he ''mournfully'' and ''tearfully'' looked at Professor Watson,

    "Do you expect Sirius ck to attack me?"

    "Oh!" Bryan showed a surprised expression. "You are smarter than I thought, Potter. I thought you couldn''t guess it!"

    Harry:"-_-"

    "Don''t be so downcast, Harry?" Bryan affectionately hugged Harry''s shoulder and said, "We are engaged in a more noble cause. Think about it. If we catch ck soon, we can prevent more innocent people from being hurt by ck!"

    Harry: "-.-"

    "Okay!"

    Looking at Harry who was a bit emotional, Bryan frowned and said with a pain in his heart,

    "Firebolt, right? Okay, no problem! As long as you can lure ck over and let me save the wizarding world from ck''s terror, I will pay for it myself and buy you one!"

    Harry''s heart skipped a beat. He wanted to tell Professor Watson that he didn''t need to do that because he already had a very good flying broom. He had Nimbus 2000, which was still in good condition. But his body was obviously more honest. After hearing Professor Watson''s promise, his legs didn''t listen to him at all. He darted into the gloomy alley with a whoosh.

    But obviously, ck was not stupid enough to be surprising. Bryan and Harry''s attemptsted for a week, but they got nothing.

    Harry didn''t care about it, but as the start of school approached, Bryan became more and more worried.

    Once Potter returned to Hogwarts, back under Dumbledore''s protection, it would not be so easy to make this big money unless he followed him back to that school and watched Potter all day long.

    Bryan felt a surge of desperation as he realized this was hisst opportunity to capture ck and collect the bounty. He had wasted the entire summer on this scheme, but he had nothing to show for it. He was filled with frustration and anger. In the dark inn, Bryan turned his head and looked at Potter who was making a slight snoring sound. He was sleeping peacefully, unaware of the danger that lurked around him.

    Bryan pondered his next move in silence. To be honest, if Bryan wanted to go back, it was actually a very simple thing. He could always apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position again. He had lost the voodoo doll, but he could acquire some centaurs or vampires from the ck market and use some advanced dark magic to transfer the curse.

    Or, he could take over the Care of Magical Creatures post, since Professor Kettleburn had retired. He was no expert in that field, but he could fool the young wizards by following the textbook. He had done some research on magical creatures, and he knew how to deal with them.

    Or, he could simply ask Kakus to negotiate with the board of governors again, and let him return to Hogwarts as a security consultant for the castle.

    Hmph, security consultant - Bryan Watson?

    Bryan smirked in the dark. That name did not sound as impressive as investigator. It sounded low-end, like the castle caretaker Filch. He imagined himself wearing a uniform and a badge, patrolling the corridors and grounds, checking the doors and windows, and reporting to Dumbledore every day. He felt both amused and disgusted.

    Of course, these were just Bryan''s idle jokes. On that night a few months ago, after he had confronted Dumbledore by the ck Lake, Bryan had seen through Dumbledore''s true intentions for him. If he wanted to go back to Hogwarts, he only needed to write a letter. Dumbledore would wee him back with open arms.

    But every time he thought of Dumbledore standing behind his desk, those blue eyes sparkling in the firelight, looking at him who had ''returned to the light'', opening his arms and showing a ''kind and gentle'' smile, and saying something like ''Wee back to Hogwarts'', Bryan felt a sickening urge to vomit.

    "Even if I go back!"

    Bryan turned over and gazed at the bright round moon outside the window. He muttered fiercely,

    "It would have to be Dumbledore himself who came to me, admitted his faults, apologized sincerely, invited me eagerly, and promised to pay me at the headmaster''s level. Then I would consider it!"

    *******************************

    Author''s Note: Sorry! for the mistake, ording to Harry Potter Wikipedia, The Bounty on sirius ck is Fifty Thousand galleons, I have edited the mistake in previous chapter and uing chapters too.

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0141 Future Plans

    0141 Future ns

    "Potter, Potter¨C" The dawn was breaking, the light was gentle, and the morning breeze came through the old window bars. The fresh air was mixed with a mysterious aura that belonged to magic. In a soft call, Harry opened his sleepy eyes.

    He felt a wave of fatigue wash over him as he tried to get out of bed, he felt like he had gone through Wood''s pre-match training. His muscles and bones. He struggled to get up, and looked at the window with a nk expression, but he couldn''t see anything clearly. His sses were nowhere to be found, and everything was blurry and fuzzy.

    Coo, coo¨C The mocking sound of Hedwig, who was perched in the cage hanging on the window, made Harry''s stiff brain more alert. He groped around the pillow with his hands, mumbling,

    "My sses¨C" Then he found that someone was holding something in front of his nose.

    "Uh, thank you¨C"

    Harry nodded his thanks and put on his sses. When his vision became clear, he was surprised to find that Professor Watson had already dressed up and looked like he was going out. He wore a long ck cloak that covered his slender figure, and a dark hat that hid his sharp features. He had a leather bag slung over his shoulder, and a wand in his hand.

    "Wait, Professor Watson, I''ll get up right away."

    The socks were thrown on the ground beside the bed, and the clothes were thrown at the end of the bed. Harry opened the quilt and was about to crawl to the end of the bed to get the clothes. ording to his daily habits these days, he would wait until he put on the clothes. After going downstairs to have breakfast, Professor Watson would take him for a ''walk'' through the maze-likeplicated alleys on both sides of Diagon Alley. Harry enjoyed these walks, as they gave him a chance to explore the magical world and learn new things from Professor Watson.

    "Hold on, Potter¨C"

    Just as Harry was about to get up, Professor Watson pressed his shoulder and stopped him from moving. Harry blinked and looked up, but he was shocked to find that Professor Watson''s expression was different from what he had seen in the past few days.

    He couldn''t tell exactly what was different, but he vaguely felt that it was much ''colder'' than before. It was a bit like the expression that Professor Watson had when he encountered some overly active young wizards in the Defense Against the Dark Arts ssst semester. His eyes were piercing and stern, and his mouth was set in a thin line.

    "You can stay in your room and rest for a while, Potter. I need to go out and do something by myself. I''m telling you in advance, so you won''t be looking for me everywhere when you wake up."

    Professor Watson exined with a slight smile in response to Potter''s puzzled gaze.

    ''Do something'' Such a vague statement made Harry alert immediately. A few thoughts shed through his mind, and he jumped out of bed with a bang.

    "You found him, didn''t you?"

    Harry''s voice was suppressed with excitement and agitation.

    "You found Sirius ck, so you''re going to deal with him now?!"

    ''What are you talking about?'' Bryan found harry''s thoughts very amusing.

    "We''ve been together these days, Potter. If I really found ck, you would definitely know."

    "Oh, that''s true¨C"

    Harry touched his spiky hair that couldn''t be smoothed down no matter what and muttered.

    "Well, that''s the situation, Potter. I''ll be back in about two or three hours. During this time, you can wander around and kill some time, but don''t leave the Leaky Cauldron."

    After giving him a serious warning, Bryan left the room directly and disappeared from Harry''s sight.

    Under the disturbance of the breeze, a strand of hair swayed in front of Harry''s eyes, making him feel annoyed.

    The street below the window outside was very quiet. There was not much noise of peopleing and going. Harry squinted his eyes and looked at the clock. He found that it was only a little past six o''clock. It was too early to go downstairs for breakfast. He took off his sses and fell back on the bed with a ng. He pulled up the quilt and put his arm over his eyes to block the light that was already dazzling.

    Tick-tock¨C

    The second hand jumped over the top ''12''. The time was 6:10.

    ''What exactly did Professor Watson go to do?''

    Once his consciousness became clear, it was hard to fall asleep again. Harry closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, but this question popped up in his mind uncontrobly.

    Speaking of which, what does Professor Watson do? This was another question without an answer. Last semester, Professor Watson told them in the first Defense Against the Dark Arts ss that he was a ''frencer'', who made a living by running errands for people, looking for potion ingredients, delivering goods and so on. At that time, no one believed him.

    They all thought he was hiding something more exciting and dangerous behind his casual words. Andter on, as the course continued and the young wizards had a clearer understanding of Professor Watson''s magical skills, especially when Harry saw Professor Watson casually deal with the Basilisk in the Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets, he was even more sure that it was just a way to fool them.

    He had never seen anyone perform such powerful and precise magic before. His roommate at Hogwarts, Dean Thomas, once guessed that Professor Watson might be a bounty hunter who was hired by the Ministry of Magic all year round to hunt down dark wizards and fight against criminals.

    He said that Professor Watson had a mysterious and cool aura that suited the job. He also pointed out that Professor Watson always wore ck clothes and carried a leather bag that could contain various weapons and tools.

    This statement was somewhat credible, especially since Professor Watson had epted the Minister of Magic''smission to look after him and was so eager to catch Sirius ck, who had escaped from Azkaban prison.

    Then, Professor Watson''s mysterious departure at this time was due to a new order from the Ministry of Magic?

    ''This was the most likely possibility'', Harry thought.

    Speaking of which, he had never thought about what kind of job he would do after graduating from Hogwarts.

    At school, most of the young wizards around him were living their lives in a daze. They were busy with homework, exams, Quidditch matches, and other activities. They rarely talked about their future ns or ambitions.

    Ron had never mentioned what he wanted to do in the future. Harry knew Ron and thought that Ron''s only requirement for his future work might be to have a generous sry.

    Although this ideal was not noble, Harry thought that it was not Ron''s fault.He understood Ron''s desire for money andfort.

    The Weasleys were indeed the best family Harry had ever seen, but because they had too many children, their financial situation was really bad. Ron oftenined about his second-hand clothes, books, and broomsticks. He also envied Harry for his inheritance from his parents.

    And besides, Ron had five outstanding brothers above his head and a little sister who was pampered by the whole family below. He didn''t enjoy a wealthy life and had to face so many siblings who took away his parent''s love.

    As for his other good friend Hermione, to be honest, among all the young wizards who were studying at Hogwarts, Harry couldn''t find anyone who could surpass Hermione in terms of studying hard. She was always at the top of every ss, and she knew almost everything there was to know about magic. But she had never mentioned what she wanted to do in the future either. Harry thought that Hermione might be able to stay at Hogwarts after graduation and work as a teacher or something. After all, she was very simr to Professor McGonagall in many ways.

    Of course, not everyone was so unclear about their future. Harry knew that Ron''s brother Percy had a clear goal of working in the Ministry of Magic, and Fred and George were obsessed with researching magical joke products and definitely wanted to continue this ''noble'' career in the future.

    As for himself¡­

    Harry moved his arm away and opened his eyes wide. He looked at the slightly yellowish wall and thought quietly.

    Work in the Ministry of Magic?

    Harry didn''t mind bing a Ministry official like Mr. Weasley, but the only problem was that the Ministry''s requirements for selecting staff were very strict, and his grades were a big problem. He was good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, but he struggled with other subjects like History of Magic, Potions, and Divination. He doubted that he could pass the required exams and interviews.

    Like Wood, aspire to be a Quidditch star?

    Quidditch was Harry''s favorite sport. If he could be a star yer, that would be a good choice too. He loved flying on his broomstick and catching the golden snitch. He felt free and happy when he was in the air. He also admired Wood, who was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and had a passion for the game.

    Or¡­ like Professor Watson, be a free and easy bounty hunter?

    Unconsciously, Harry grinned. Fighting against evil was a very cool thing. This choice was not bad either, although he could probably never be as powerful as Professor Watson.

    Tick-tock¨C

    The second hand jumped over ''12'' again. The time was 6:11.

    Ssh!

    Harry jumped out of bed and got dressed in ten seconds. He didn''t have time to put on his socks. He felt the cold floor on his bare feet as he ran to the door. He grabbed his sses and his wand, and mmed the door behind him.

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 0142 Tracking

    0142 Tracking

    As he passed by the bar, the bartender who was wiping a ss with a rag enthusiastically asked Harry what he wanted for breakfast, but Harry had no time to answer this question. He swept past Tom like a gust of wind, stepped out of the back door of the pub, and only had time to pull up his shoe heels when he knocked on the bricks in front of the trash can.

    He stepped into the widestmercial street in Diagon Alley, and the suddenly bright light made Harry look dazed for a moment. He nced at a row of shops across the street and found that many shops had not opened yet.

    The colorful signs and windows were still dim, waiting for the magic to light up. The street was lined with all kinds of shops that sold everything a wizard could need, from brooms and wands to books and potions. Harry had visited some of them before, but there were still many that he had not explored yet. There were few pedestrians on the cobblestone-paved street, which looked very empty. Harry breathed a few breaths of fresh air in the morning, trying to suppress his nervousness about following Professor Watson.

    He looked around and easily found Professor Watson, who was walking towards the tallest building in Diagon Alley - Gringotts Bank, with his talent as the youngest seeker in a century. Gringotts Bank was a magnificent white marble structure that towered over the other buildings. It had arge bronze door that was guarded by a pair of fierce-looking goblins in red uniforms. Harry had been inside once, when he had withdrawn some money from his vault. He remembered the thrill of riding the underground cart that zoomed through the maze of tunnels and chambers.

    Harry pursed his lips and locked his eyes on the thin figure with a hint of hesitation. To be honest, until now, he didn''t know why he decided to follow Professor Watson. Maybe, it wasjust out of sheer curiosity!

    The wizards passing by looked at him with strange eyes, and Harry came back to his senses, realizing that he had forgotten to take the invisibility cloak he inherited from his father, which was a good helper for tracking and sneaking.

    ''Professor Watson can see through the disguise of the invisibility cloak¨C''

    The invisibility cloak was very useful, but it was not absolute. Last semester, Ginny was attacked, and Lucius Malfoy broke into Hogwarts to cause trouble that night. In Hagrid''s hut, Professor Watson and Professor Dumbledore both saw through the invisibility cloak.

    After hesitating for a few seconds, Harry gave up the idea of going upstairs to get the invisibility cloak, and followed him quietly at a distance of less than two hundred feet.

    In the past, when he came out for a night tour with Ron at Hogwarts, with the help of the invisibility cloak, they were always invincible. Whether it was the castle administrator Filch or his cat Mrs. Norris, or the senior prefects or even the professors, no one could find them. And this also made Harry never realize that his real tracking level was actually terrible.

    Even though he tried his best to pretend to be nonchnt, but asionally passing by pedestrians still looked at him with a weird expression on their faces, as if they could see what he was doing at a nce.

    Harry''s face was red, partly because he was doing something taboo and exciting right now, and partly because of the teasing eyes of the passers-by.

    He hurriedly followed, keeping the distance between himself and Professor Watson within a rtively constant range. And when he passed by the towering white building of Gringotts Bank, Professor Watson suddenly shed into an inconspicuous alley.

    At first, Harry didn''t realize anything different about this alley. In order not to lose him, he just sped up and followed him. But when he stood at the entrance of the winding alley that couldn''t see the end, Harry suddenly came to his senses and was shocked out of a cold sweat.

    These days, Professor Watson had taken him to explore most of the alleys in Diagon Alley, but there was only one that they had never entered. Knockturn Alley - Harry had identally entered it oncest summer vacation, and To be honest, it scared him to death.

    Even though Harry''s ''social experience'' was not rich enough, he could tell at a nce that most of the wizards who entered and exited here and did business in the alley were not good guys.

    They wore dark cloaks and masks that hid their faces. They whispered and haggled in low voices over sinister-looking objects that Harry did not want to know what they were. The shops in the alley were shabby and gloomy, selling things like skulls, bones, cursed artifacts, and weird potions. The air was filled with a foul smell and a sense of danger.

    ''Why did Professor Watson venture into Knockturn Alley?''

    Standing at the entrance of the alley, Harry wondered and hesitated. After a while, he got a rtively reasonable answer. That is, Professor Watson found a criminal who was active here and came to arrest him.

    "This is serious business, I shouldn''t bother him -"

    Staring at the gloomy alley, Harry muttered uneasily in his heart. Then he stepped into it.

    After a year''s time, Harry had to admit that he really didn''t like this ce.

    The cracks in the floor tiles were filled with foul-smelling sludge, and the walls on both sides of the narrow alley were covered with mold and dark red brown spots. As he moved forward, the temperature in the air dropped rapidly, as if even the sky became gloomy.

    The only light came from the dimnterns that hung from the eaves of the shops, casting eerie shadows on the ground. Harry felt a chill run down his spine as he heard faint noises of hissing, creaking, and moaning from the dark corners of the alley.

    He suppressed his palpitations and continued to move forward. After a bend, there was a long straight road. In the faint fog, a row of gloomy shops appeared in Harry''s sight. Harry remembered some of these shops.

    Last time, he identally passed through one of them called Borgin & Burkes through Floo Network. He also happened to meet Malfoy father and son who came here to deal with dark magic items. Borgin & Burkes was arge and dusty shop that probably sold all kinds of those sinister and dangerous objects he saw, such as cursed masks, human bones, shrunken heads, and dark detectors.

    Should he continue or turn back?

    Harry stared nkly at the alley with a weird atmosphere. His feet stopped moving and he struggled inwardly.

    He wanted to know what Professor Watson was doing here, but he also felt scared and guilty for following him without permission. He wondered if he should turn back and pretend that nothing had happened, or if he should continue and face these troublesome things.

    A breeze brushed his face. Harry shuddered suddenly. His nose twitched and he covered his mouth. He sneezed softly.

    "You should have put on socks before you came out, Potter."

    Suddenly, a low voice with a hint of amusement came out from behind Harry without warning. This sudden voice scared Harry so much that his heart thumped wildly. He got goose bumps all over his body. He jumped up and wanted to run forward. But a hand grabbed his cor. This hand was very strong. Harry struggled for a few times but couldn''t get away.

    "Don''t be nervous, Potter. It''s me."

    The voice with a smile sounded again. And this time, Harry finally heard that this seemed to be Professor Watson''s voice.

    "Oh, Professor Watson!"

    Harry turned pale, covered his heart that was still beating rapidly and looked at that young and handsome face with a teasing smile. He gasped for breath. After a few seconds, he calmed down a bit. His face was embarrassed and ashamed.

    "Sorry, professor. I-I didn''t mean to."

    "Ah, ah, I understand. It''s normal for young wizards like you to have a strong curiosity -" Bryan smiled and said, "Especially, you are from Gryffindor."

    Professor Watson said so, but Harry didn''t feel any better. Instead, he felt more ashamed. He lowered his head and his ears turned red, and he kept mumbling apologies. Bryanforted him a few more times. The little wizard who knew he was wrong finally dared to raise his head.

    "When did you find me, Professor Watson?"

    And when he calmed down, Harry immediately asked the question he most wanted to know. He knew his tracking skills might not be outstanding, but all the way, Professor Watson didn''t even look back. How did he find him?

    "Oh, this -"

    Bryan responded to Harry''s green eyes full of curiosity. He smiled and said, "Probably from the moment you left the room and rushed out of the pub, I knew it."

    Harry was surprised and widened his eyes. He hoped to get an exnation that he could understand.

    "-- Hey, you don''t think I really left you alone in the room without any precautions, do you?" Bryan said with a smile, "In addition to setting up some defensive spells in the room, I also put a locator mark on you. This mark allows me to sense your position at any time. Don''t mind, Potter."

    Bryan looked at Harry who was touching himself to see if there was anything extra on him andughed.

    "I thought that if someone really broke through my defensive spells and kidnapped you, at least I could figure out where you were."

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0143 Seeing The World (Part-1)+

    0143 Seeing The World (Part-1)+

    The walls on both sides of the alley were not tall, but Harry felt as if he was walking in a canyon with steep cliffs on both sides, and a deep sense of oppression made his breathing faint. He could hear the faint echoes of his footsteps and the asional creaking of wooden doors or windows. The dim light from thenterns barely illuminated the narrow path, casting long shadows behind him and Professor Watson.

    Greasy, fishy, turbid¨Cthe smell in the air was mixed, and Harry couldn''t tell what it was, but smelling this smell always made him feel like vomiting. He tried to cover his nose with his cloak, but it was no use. The stench seemed to prate his skin and bones, making him nauseous. He wondered how anyone could live in such a ce, let alone eat here.

    As he passed a small restaurant- Harry had never thought that there would be people doing business in the depths of Knockturn Alley. The sign above the door was so faded that he couldn''t read what it said, but he guessed it was something like "The Rotten Cauldron" or "The Maggoty Haggis".

    The window frame had umted a thickyer of dust, the old window ss was greasy, and there were many w-like fingerprints on it. He looked through the window into the dark room and found that there were actually customers dining in this small restaurant that looked like a medieval ck workshop.

    It was a guy wrapped in bandages like a mummy, who was eating arge piece of green blood-stained thing that looked like a pancreas or something on the te in front of him. He held a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, cutting and chewing with relish. Harry felt his stomach churn as he watched the disgusting scene.

    Perhaps sensing Harry''s gaze, the customer slowly turned his head and looked outside the shop, showing his teeth dripping with green slime to Harry. His eyes were bloodshot and his face was covered with scars and boils. He grinned wickedly at Harry, as if inviting him to join his feast.

    Harry shuddered suddenly, remembering what Professor Watson had told him before, he hurriedly withdrew his gaze and pretended that nothing had happened. He hoped that the customer didn''t recognize him as Harry Potter, the famous boy who lived. He didn''t want to cause any trouble here, especially not with Professor Watson.

    "Well, it''s not impossible to follow me, but the ce we''re going to is dangerous, and there are some rules you have to remember. First of all, no matter what, stay by my side and don''t leave half a step. Second, don''t scream or shout, even if you see something that puzzles you. And then, well, don''t stare at anyone for more than five seconds, unless you want to pull out your wand and fight with them. Do you understand, Potter?" Professor Watson said in a low voice, looking around cautiously.

    Harry nodded desperately, unable to contain his excitement. Just now, Professor Watson told him that he needed to go to the depths of Knockturn Alley to do something, and he just tried to ask Professor Watson if he could follow him with a try-it-out attitude, but he didn''t expect that after a brief thought, Professor actually agreed.

    "You have my word for every one of them, Professor!"

    Harry said eagerly, as if afraid that Professor Watson would change his mind. Harry had seen the dangers of Knockturn Alley before, and for the ''deeper'' ce that Professor Watson said, Harry could imagine that it must be much more evil than Borgin and Burkes. If it were him alone, he would never venture into it rashly, but with Professor Watson, Harry thought it was a good opportunity to ''see the world''.

    Think about it, even Aunt Petunia knew about the magical world''s St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries, and he knew almost nothing about the magical world except for Hogwarts and Diagon Alley. This was indeed something that made him feel very ashamed and depressed.

    After getting Potter''s categorical assurance, Bryan took out his wand and flicked it. Two new ck cloaks and in masks with no identifiable features floated out of the spinning air.

    "Put them on. Potter. It''s unwise to show your true face in the ce we''re going to."

    Professor Watson said sternly. Although his expression was bewildered, his mood was very agitated. Harry fiddled with the cor of his ck cloak for a while, then adjusted the fit of his mask and cheek again to make sure he didn''t expose any skin to the air.

    Now, more than ten minutes after passing that small restaurant just now. Bryan walked familiarly and unhurriedly forward. while Harry now had no idea where he was.

    As they went on. they saw some other wizards in the narrow alley with many forks. Some were alone. some were in pairs or threes. Harry also saw at an inconspicuous fork corner. there were more than ten wizards standing under an arched doorway whispering. The atmosphere was very tense. They were all wearing dark cloaks and masks, but Harry could tell from their bodynguage that they were nervous and alert. Some of them held their wands in their hands, ready to cast spells at any time. Harry wondered what they were waiting for, or what they were afraid of.

    "What are they doing?" Harry lowered his voice and asked quietly.

    "I cast a spell. Potter. no one can hear us talking. as long as you don''t make too exaggerated gestures."

    Bryan said in a normal tone, as if he was chatting with an old friend.

    "Those people I think should be trading."

    He added, pointing his chin at the group of wizards under the arched doorway. Harry nced at Professor Watson''s back with a hidden look and didn''t ask any more questions. He had a feeling that after putting on his cloak, Professor Watson seemed to have changed his personality and became a bit cold and unwilling to talk to people. He wondered if it was because of the ce they were going to, or if there was something else on his mind.

    As Harry wondered why Professor Watson would have this change, a huge white head sticking out from behind the wall blocking the road attracted Harry''s attention. He stared at the head for a few seconds and realized that it was a statue''s head. It had long hair and beard, a pointed hat, and a solemn expression. It looked very familiar to Harry, but he couldn''t ce it right away.

    ''How strange. why would there be a statue in the depths of Knockturn Alley? Whose statue is this?!'' Harry thought curiously, feeling a surge of curiosity.

    And when he turned around the wall and saw the scene behind the wall, Harry''s mouth that had never been closed all the way opened a little more. He gasped in awe and disbelief, as he took in the sight before him.

    In front of him was a small circr square with an ancient style. The stone tiles on the square floor were soaked with traces of years, moss and cracks. In the center of the square, there stood a statue of an old man. The statue was probably as high as two floors, and was carved from snow-white stone. It was so lifelike that Harry almost thought it was a real person standing there. The statue wore a long robe and held a staff in his hand.

    Harry stared at the statue''s face for a few seconds and then asked in an uncertain tone. "Merlin?"

    He guessed, remembering where he had seen that face before.

    "Not Bad. Potter." Bryan nodded approvingly, sounding slightly impressed by Harry''s recognition.

    Harry pursed his lips and didn''t say anything. In fact, the reason why he could recognize who this statue was entirely because of thememorative coin that Professor Watson gave to Ron, which had almost the same Merlin engraving as the statue in front of him. Ron cherished this coin so much that he even asked Hermione to borrow some books from the library to learn about its value and history. Harry had skimmed through some of them, but he didn''t know much about Merlin, except that he was the most famous wizard of all time and the founder of modern magic.

    "But why?" Harry asked a vague question, wondering why there was a statue of Merlin here, in such a dark and dangerous ce.

    Bryan didn''t answer immediately. He quietly stared at the eyes of this tall statue, his thoughts wereplicated.

    In the past three or four years, he had entered and exited the underground world many times, and he had long lost his curiosity about the Merlin statue at the entrance. But after returning from Avalon Ind, he became more curious about Merlin, who only existed in legends.

    ''Hmph. Merlin''s eternal resting ce.''

    Bryan snorted in his heart, his eyes looking at the statue''s eyes showed some gloom.

    In order to destroy the Twin-Serpent Staff, the four founders of Hogwarts set up a thousand-year puzzle. This matter, I''m afraid it also has some unclear rtionship with this legendary wizard who was mythologized.

    "There is a huge cave under the statue, just like the one in Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets, very old and ancient, that is their of the most secretive sect wizards and the most bottomless dark wizards in Britain and even Europe, that is also our destination for this trip," Bryan said slowly, breaking his silence. "There are rumors-"

    Just as Harry couldn''t help but ask again, Bryan said quickly, "The cave was built by Merlin himself, and it was because of that cave that we have Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley outside, of course, these are all hearsay, not rigorous statements-"

    Harry blinked his eyes non-stop, and didn''t know what words to use to describe his tumbling emotions. He suddenly realized that he had been too superficial in his understanding of the magical world. He had always thought that Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley were just two ordinary streets for wizards to shop and trade, but he never knew that they had such a deep and mysterious connection with Merlin and his cave.

    Crack- With a hoarse sound that startled Harry, he hid his hand under his robe and gripped his wand tightly, looking in astonishment at the old-fashioned wizard robe under the statue, which lifted up diagonally, revealing a ck hole with a gust of wind. It looked like a secret passage that led to the underground.

    A wizard with an indistinguishable face jumped off a rusty trolley from the hole, then walked out of the hole quickly, nced at the dozen or so alleys around the small square, found his direction and walked straight over, his figure soon disappeared in the alley, and he never looked at Bryan and Harry from beginning to end.

    "Let''s go, Potter-" Bryan resumed his steps and walked towards the hole, "It''s not wise to linger here for too long."

    He said, as he pulled Harry along with him. He knew that the Aurors would not dare to stop them without a warrant, but he also did not want to attract their attention.

    After getting off the ''crazy'' trolley as usual, Bryan stood at the exit and gasped for breath. Even though he had taken it many times, he still couldn''t get used to this trolley that was much more exciting than a roller coaster. It was a rickety and rusty metal cart that ran on a winding and bumpy track, plunging and rising in the dark tunnel. It made Bryan feel dizzy and nauseous every time he rode it. Harry next to him stood steady, which made Bryan a little surprised, but when he thought about Harry being the youngest seeker in Hogwarts in a hundred years, he was relieved.

    The air in the underground world that hadn''t changed much for thousands of years was still bad. Bryan looked at the familiar environment in front of him, and suddenly, his eyebrows behind his mask tightened slightly. He sensed something was different today.

    Compared with usual, it was much quieter here, not only ''themission market'', where wizards could hire or be hired for various tasks, but even ''the pet market'' and ''the trade market'' that were always noisy were much colder than usual. The number of wizards who came here to buy or sell exotic creatures or rare items was significantly reduced, and the atmosphere was tense and gloomy.

    The reason for this phenomenon was a group of people wearing uniform ck cloaks with an ipatible aura that spread throughout the underground world.

    "The Ministry of Magic''s Aurors-"

    Bryan squinted his eyes and swept over the nearest one who was also looking at him and Potter. His lips moved a few times, as if he was muttering something under his breath.

    "Are they here to try their luck and see if they can catch Sirius ck?"

    He said softly, guessing their purpose. The Ministry of Magic had Aurors stationed in the underground world all year round, but in order to avoid provoking these seclusive wizards and dark wizards who sneered at the current rules of the magical world, they would not send too many people, just maintaining a minimum level of interference. But now, in order to catch ck, they had to break this tacit understanding.

    Bryan was not surprised by the Ministry of Magic''s tant move. In today''s magical world, there are two swords hanging over all wizard''s heads, deterring those who secretly harbor evil thoughts.

    One of them, undoubtedly, was Albus Dumbledore, who had been ''semi-retired'' at Hogwarts for years. He was the only one who could stand against Voldemort and his followers, and he was respected and feared by both sides of the war.

    And the other was the Dementors and Azkaban in the hands of the Ministry of Magic. They were the ultimate punishment for any wizard whomitted crimes against magic or humanity. The Dementors were soul-sucking creatures that could drain anyone''s happiness and life force, and Azkaban was a prison ind surrounded by them. No one could escape from there alive or sane.Now, Sirius ck had escaped from Azkaban alive, which made the Ministry of Magic lose face and feel deeply frightened.

    Not to mention, ck himself was the loyal henchman of the second Dark Lord Voldemort. He was responsible for betraying James and Lily Potter to Voldemort, killing Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles with a single curse, and being one of the most dangerous Death Eaters ever. The Ministry of Magic would want to capture him at all costs, and restore their authority.

    "Pr, Professor Watson"

    Harry stuttered, as he followed Bryan into the underground world. He felt overwhelmed by everything he saw here. It was nothing like what he had imagined before.

    The spectacr huge fan-shaped cave, floating in the air with rows of green torches emitting a strange atmosphere, passing through all around, every one of them was surrounded by a disturbing aura of wizards. They wore different kinds of cloaks and masks, some in and simple, some colorful and shy. They walked or flew around the cave, exchanging goods or information.

    Harry felt like he had entered another world that was hidden from his eyes before. He felt his teeth shivering. He wanted to express his shock, but he didn''t know how to describe it. He felt like he was both fascinated and terrified by it.

    In a trance, Harry remembered two years ago, when he and arge group of young wizards followed Hagrid along a steep and narrow path. After turning a corner, he saw for the first time the towering Hogwarts castle that was as high as the sky.

    "Is this still the wizarding world?"

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0144 Seeing The World (Part-2)+

    0144 Seeing The World (Part-2)+

    "Is this still the Wizarding world?"

    Harry asked in a murmur.

    "This is the Wizarding world, Potter."

    Bryan smiled slightly and said, he did not urge Harry to move on, he knew that this little wizard needed some time to digest what he saw. He could sense the shock and curiosity in Harry''s green eyes, which were hidden behind his round sses.

    "That-"

    Harry trembled and pointed his finger under his robe at the pet market, but halfway through, he suddenly remembered Professor Watson''s warning and retracted his finger in fright. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead, wondering if anyone had noticed his gesture.

    "Oh, you mean the centaurs?"

    Bryan nced at that direction casually and said, "There is also a centaur tribe living in the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts, which is thergest centaur tribe in Europe."

    Harry nodded stiffly, he stared at the centaur that was fixed to the ground by iron chains as thick as his wrists on his limbs and neck, and was brutally stuffed into a cage. The cage was so small that the centaur could barely move, and his brown fur was stained with blood and dirt. His rigid brain was trying to think.

    Harry felt a surge of sympathy for the creature, who looked so noble and proud despite his plight. He remembered the names of the few centaurs he had met in Hogwarts: Firenze, Ronan, Bane. Among these centaurs, the most proud one was Bane, who was furious when he saw Harry riding on Firenze''s back, thinking that Firenze had tarnished the glory of the centaurs.

    ''What if Bane saw his kind being treated like this by wizards?''

    Harry had this thought in his mind, and he felt his breath be hot. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

    "Why do they have to lock it in a cage? These people"

    "The reasons are varied, Potter¨C" Bryan said calmly, "Not all countries in the world have centaurs. Some wizards catch them to sell them at high prices, some want to take some organs from them or do some magic experiments, and some just enjoy humiliating these proud creature''s dignity¨C"

    Harry felt sick as he heard these words. He couldn''t believe that there were wizards who would do such horrible things to other living beings.

    He stared at the centaur with whip marks on his cheeks and a weak look. He felt a surge of anger in his forehead, making his eyes blurred.

    "Why? Professor, why doesn''t the Ministry of Magic do anything about it?"

    "No matter how bright the sun is, it can''t dispel all the darkness on the earth, Potter."

    Bryan put his palm on Harry''s shoulder, lest this stimted little wizard suddenly lose control of himself. He looked at Harry with a serious expression and said,

    "A stable social order must give evil a proper ce to live."

    Harry did not give any response, but suddenly understood why the few centaurs he had met were so resistant to contact with wizards. He wondered if they knew what was happening to their brethren in other parts of the world.

    ng!

    A sudden crash made Harry''s eyes spitting fire hard to move away. He looked further away. A humanoid creature with a bird''s head and scaly wings was going crazy and hitting the iron cage that imprisoned him. In front of the cage, four or five wizards were bargaining fiercely. They were holding wands and whips, ready to subdue the creature if it became too violent. The creature had golden feathers and ws, and a sharp beak that could tear flesh. It looked majestic and noble, but also desperate and furious.

    "That¨C" Harry gasped and said, "That creature, do people buy and sell it for humiliating their dignity too?"

    "Oh, that¨C" Bryan smacked his lips and said in an elusive tone. "That reason is much moreplicated and I can''t exin it to you, Potter, because you are too young now. When you grow up. Well. After you be an adult, you will probably understand."

    Harry didn''t ask any more questions, but he thought to himself that even if he reached Dumbledore''s age, he wouldn''t understand this kind of behavior! He felt disgusted and outraged by these wizards who treated magical creatures asmodities or toys. He suddenly remembered what Dobby had said to him. In those years when Voldemort was active, wizards treated house elves like pests. Now Voldemort has been defeated. And it was him who defeated him personally. Although he didn''t feel much about it, but these scenes told Harry that the wizarding world was not as good as he imagined.

    "Do you think that was meaningful?" Harry suddenly asked in a low voice. "I mean, defeating Voldemort."

    Bryan raised his eyebrows and asked after a moment of contemtion. "Do you know Voldemort, Potter?"

    Professor Watson''s question made Harry not know how to answer. He had faced Voldemort twice, thest time was two years ago.

    Everyone around him except Dumbledore and Professor Watson had a look of being gazed by a basilisk when they mentioned Voldemort''s name. This made Harry know that Voldemort''s rampage in the wizarding world must have been very terrible. He had heard stories of how Voldemort had killed countless wizards and muggles, and how he had tried to overthrow the Ministry of Magic and establish his own dark regime.

    Evil, tyrannical, cruel, powerful enough to make people tremble Harry could think of these words to describe Voldemort. Besides, he himself had a deep hatred with Voldemort. But he didn''t dare to speak rashly here.

    "The world needs order, Potter. Whether it is a bright or dark world, it needs a kind of order that most people can ept and abide by. As long as they abide by the order, wizards or magical creatures can keep their most precious wealth - life,"

    Bryan turned Harry''s shoulder to another direction and dragged him towards themission market. He spoke in a low and solemn voice,

    "Voldemort was also trying to create an order in his active years. That is to enve everyone, be everyone''s master, and have the power of life and death over everyone. And this kind of order is absolutely uneptable for both the bright and dark worlds."

    Bryan hugged Harry, who was breathless, and walked to a small yard with a tall sign in the center of the cave, surrounded by a low wall. Along the way, the Auror of the Ministry of Magic quietly followed them and hung behind them thirty feet away, following them for half a mile. Harry could feel his cold gaze on his back, and he wondered what he wanted from them.

    "Get out."

    Bryan stopped and turned his head coldly, with a murderous tone. His eyes shed with a dangerous light, and his wand was ready in his hand.

    Harry also turned his head and looked at the wizard who obviously hesitated for a few seconds and then walked away angrily. He muttered something under his breath, but Harry couldn''t hear it clearly.

    "What''s wrong, Professor Watson? What did that person want to do?"

    "Nothing, Potter," Bryan answered vaguely. "You can see that there are a lot of bad guys here. He probably wanted to steal something."

    Bryan didn''t tell Harry that the Auror probably wanted to find out if they had Sirius ck with them. Because this little wizard who had suffered a lot of shocks in his worldview would doubt his life if he knew that the Ministry of Magic''s hitman was right here, but turned a blind eye to the crimes that were happening.

    He didn''t want Harry to get involved in thisplicated and dangerous matter. They continued to walk forward, but suddenly, a short figure passing by not far in front of them made Harry stumble and his gloomy expression showed astonishment again.

    "Goblin. That''s from Gringotts."

    Harry eximed. Bryan nced at the goblin with a dark face and full of wrinkles on his cheeks. He was wearing a ck suit and a hat, and he was carrying a leather bag in his hand. He said calmly,

    "Wizards can hardly tell the difference between two goblin''s appearances, so they don''t bother to disguise themselves when theye here."

    "But¨C" Harry frowned and said in surprise, "Why would goblinse here? Aren''t they afraid of being locked in cages too!"

    "They are allies of wizards, Potter¨C" Bryan sneered. "These half-human creatures have very exquisite craftsmanship skills, and they have their own unique social system and magical heritage. Wizards fear the power of goblins, so they are free here."

    Bryan flicked his finger and tapped Harry''s shoulder, reminding him to look away.

    "This goblin from Gringotts appeared here. Well, if nothing goes wrong, I think it is here to secretly deal with some assets in the bank."

    Harry was stunned and fell into a slow brain for a while before he started to work.

    "Do you mean, do you mean!" Harry''s breath became rapid again. "Goblins steal the wealth that wizards store in Gringotts. No, Hagrid said that Gringotts is the safest ce besides Hogwarts, If you want to save something!"

    "That''s true, Potter." Bryan pulled Potter and continued to walk forward.

    "Normally, there is no problem with storing your wealth in Gringotts. But there are also some special situations."

    Bryan lowered his voice and said, "You see, Potter, goblins have a different concept of ownership than wizards. They believe that the maker of an object is its true owner, and that no one else can im it without their consent. They also believe that any object made by goblins will return to them when the current possessor dies. This means that they don''t recognize the inheritance rights of wizards, and that they consider any goblin-made object in Gringotts as theirs."

    Harry''s eyes widened as he listened to Bryan''s words. Before Harry could ask further, Bryan exined.

    "If a wizard or a family stores all their wealth in the underground vaults of Gringotts, but for some reason, all the members of this family die unfortunately, and Gringotts can''t find anyone who can inherit this wealth, then what do you think should be done in this situation?"

    Harry hesitated for a while before saying uncertainly. "The wealth belongs to Gringotts?"

    "Not so¨C"

    Bryan stepped over a puddle of stagnant water on the ground and gave an unexpected answer. He spoke in a low voice, as if he didn''t want anyone to hear their conversation.

    "ording to the ''Law of Just Confiscation'', this unimed wealth should be returned to the Ministry of Magic for the development of the wizarding world. But I think you know the reputation of goblin''s and their greediness, Potter. Although they have to give up that wealth under the pressure of wizards, they are obviously not willing to do so. So when they hand over their wealth, they tamper with their ounts and hide some of it secretly. This is also very understandable." He shrugged his shoulders, showing a cynical smile.

    "Are all the people in the Ministry of Magic fools?"

    Harry shouted sharply because he was angry that the Ministry of Magic did nothing about the crimes that happened in front of them. He clenched his fists, feeling a surge of indignation. How could they let the goblins get away with such dishonesty?

    "Why would you think that, Potter?" Bryan smiled and said. "If you ask me where there are the most wizard elites in the British wizarding world, then undoubtedly it must be in the Ministry of Magic. They are not fools, but Potter,ws also need people to execute them. And those wizards who executews also expect to live a rich and luxurious life."

    He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. "Do you understand what I mean?"

    Harry opened his mouth and was speechless again. After a while he realized what Professor Watson meant, The Ministry of Magic knew about this situation all along, but some wizards among them colluded with goblins.

    Realizing this, Harry''s expression became stiff again.

    He thought of Ron''s father, Mr. Weasley, who was the only Ministry official he knew well.

    Then would Mr. Weasley also do these dirty things privately? Thinking about Ron''s father like this made Harry feel ashamed, but he couldn''t help having these thoughts.

    ''No way Mr. Weasley can''t be that type of wizard!''

    A momentter Harry got his answer. ''If Mr. Weasley really was that kind of wizard who did dirty things, then Ron''s family''s financial situation wouldn''t be so bad as it is now. And it was because of his integrity and principles that Mr. Weasley, who was very capable and qualified, was not very popr in the Ministry of Magic!''

    This answer made Harry feel much better. He wanted to ask some other questions, but he found that they had already arrived at the low wall.

    "Wait here for me, Potter."

    Bryan ordered Harry to stay where he was and not move. He went into the yard from a gap and walked towards Kakus, who had been staring at them with curiosity and suspicion.

    "Can I help you with anything?"

    Frustrated by the Ministry of Magic''s ''business'', bored Kakus stood up. He quickly nced at Bryan a few times, but because Bryan was not wearing his usual ck robe with a mark and his face had no conspicuous magic vortex, he didn''t recognize him.

    "It''s me, Fawley¨C"

    Since he had already exposed his identity, Bryan didn''t need to disguise himself anymore. He said in his original voice. Kakus reacted quickly and realized who the person in front of him was. His tone became happy immediately. Noticing that Professor Watson had left the short wizard behind, Kakus lowered his voice.

    "It''s you, Mr. Watson. Are you here to take amission?"

    Before Bryan could respond, Kakusined.

    "To catch that damn ck, the Ministry of Magic messed up this ce. If it weren''t for the fierce resistance from us residents, they even wanted to station Dementors here!"

    While speaking Kakus shuddered visibly at the thought of those soul-sucking creatures.

    "You have umted enough wealth for the Fawley family to livefortably until the next century, Kakus. There are countless wizards here who are more miserable than you."

    Bryan''s voice was cold and sharp as he pierced Kakus''s hypocriticalmentation. He was also astonished by the Ministry of Magic''s reckless actions. How could they try to send such dangerous creatures as Dementors to the underground world If they really dared to do so, he was afraid that the European wizarding world would have plunged into chaos and war by now.

    While Bryan was lost in his thoughts, Kakus had already taken out his worn-out notebook and flipped through it eagerly in front of him, muttering under his breath.

    "Let me see, Professor Watson. I have reserved two very valuable tasks for you. Themission is generous, very generous. And you know, ording to our previous agreement, I won''t charge you any intermediary fees within a year. That''s a rare offer, you know. Oh, here it is."

    "Don''t bother, Kakus."

    Bryan nced at Harry, who was looking curiously at the towering structure that stood at the end of the fan-shaped cave. He said indifferently.

    "I came to find you this time not to take amission."

    "Then what are you here for?"

    Kakus''s movement in his hand froze. His easy-going face was full of confusion and suspicion.

    "I''m here to find you to post amission."

    Bryan snapped his index finger and said heavily.

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 0145 Blackstone Tower

    0145 ckstone Tower

    ''Post themission.''

    The words were like a thunderbolt in the quiet room. Kakus was stunned and his eyes widened, his face full of astonishment. But as a smart person, he obviously knew what to ask and what not to ask. After a few seconds of silence, he restrained his surprise and showed eagerness again.

    "Okay, no problem, Mr. Watson!"

    He quickly turned the thick book to thest page, where there were several nk lines waiting to be filled. A brand new feather pen floated from his pocket to his hand, as if it had a life of its own. After writing the word ''Golden Viper'' heavily on the header, Kakus looked up and asked with curiosity,

    "What are your requirements?"

    "I hope someone can provide some urate information about the location or clues of the Druid sect and its contemporary priests." Bryan said indifferently, as if he was ordering a cup of tea.

    "Druid sect?" Kakus''s ck pupils shook, and he subconsciously uttered his doubts. He had heard of this mysterious religious group, but he had never dealt with them. They were said to be very secretive and powerful, and he heard they had some festival with the church in the muggle world.

    "These religious people don''t have much to do with wizards. You¡­ Oh, are those guys who wanted someone to help explore the magic ruins before looking for you from the Druid sect?"

    He suddenly remembered that Bryan had mentioned a group of explorers who had hired him as a guide before. He wondered if they had something to do with the Druid sect.

    Bryan did not answer this question, but his silence was also an answer. Kakus guessed that he was right, and that something must have happened between Bryan and those explorers.

    "Unequal division of spoils?" He asked cautiously, trying to probe Bryan''s mood. He knew that Bryan was a very capable wizard, but also very proud and ruthless. He did not like to be cheated or betrayed by anyone.

    Bryan''s tone became dangerous, and his eyes shed with cold light. "Do you have to ask so detailed, Fawley?" He snapped.

    "Oh, sorry, of course not-" Kakus chuckled a few times, trying to ease the tension. He quickly changed the topic and focused on the task at hand.

    "Well. Looking for the Druid sect and the traces of contemporary priests, um. Then, Mr. Watson, how long will the taskst, and how much are you willing to pay for it?"

    He hoped that Bryan would offer a reasonable price for such a difficult task.

    "The task period is calcted by one year, and it will expire automatically. Of course, within one year, if I meet those guys first, I will write to you to cancel themission. As for the reward"

    Bryan hesitated for a moment. Thest time he returned to the orphanage where he grew up, he left most of the money there for the children''s welfare. Now he had ''only'' more than two thousand gold gallons on him.

    To be honest, this task was not as easy as imagined.

    Wizards lived in a rtively independent magical world, while religious forces like the church were more closely rted to the muggle world. The two did notmunicate with each other much. It was difficult to blindly look for Druids who might appear all over the world.

    "If someone can find the followers of the Druid sect, I will pay five hundred gold gallons as a reward. If there are clues to the location of the sect priests, I will pay two thousand gold gallons more."

    He finally decided on a price that he thought was fair and attractive enough.

    "Two thousand gold gallons? This is not a small amount!" Kakus immediately became excited and wrote down Bryan''s requirements on the paper without missing a word. He could already imagine how many people would be interested in this task once it was posted. Then he scratched his cheek awkwardly and reminded Bryan of another rule.

    "Sorry, Mr. Watson, it''s our rule here that if you post a task, you have to pay half of the reward in advance as a guarantee."

    Bryan''s face immediately darkened. He reluctantly took out his money bag from his robe and counted out one thousand two hundred and fifty gold gallons. He handed them over to Kakus with a sour expression. He had always made money from Kakus Fawley bypleting various tasks for him or selling him some rare items from his adventures. This was the first time he paid him!

    "Curious about that, Potter?"

    Harry suddenly felt a pat on his shoulder and came back to his senses. He withdrew his gaze from the ck tower that almost merged with the dark cave wall and opened his mouth subconsciously. Then he hesitated and nodded.

    "I don''t understand, professor, why would wizards build a tower underground? What is it used for?"

    He asked with genuine curiosity. He had never seen such a strange building before. It looked like a medieval fortress type castle, but it was buried deep in the ground.

    "I can take you to visit it, Potter. It''s a ''historic site'' here!"

    Bryan who suddenly felt poor, eagerly hugged Harry''s shoulder and said. He wanted to distract himself from the pain of losing money, and he also wanted to show Harry something interesting.

    This ce was located at the innermost corner of the fan-shaped cave. The two shrinking rock walls met here, making the space very narrow. Therefore, except for some foreign wizards who had never been to the underground world who came to admire this mysterious tower, ''local people'' generally did not appear here.

    Apanied by Professor Watson, Harry came to the front of this ck tower. The ck stone blocks that built the tower were very rough on the surface and looked like they had been around for a long time.The shape of the tower was a bit like the spire of Hogwarts Castle Tower, but it was more ancient and mysterious. It seemed to have witnessed countless years of history and secrets, and it stood there silently, defying anyone who dared to approach it.

    "No one knows when this tower was built. People only know that since this cave far away from the ground has been inhabited by people, this tower has stood here."

    Harry''s palm brushed over the cold stone surface and felt a mysterious breath in his heart.

    "Then do people know who oh,"

    Harry asked half of his question and remembered what Professor Watson had said on the ground. He understood it himself.

    "Is it Merlin?"

    Harry didn''t have any special feelings about Merlin, a wizard who lived in many years ago. He only knew a few things rted to Merlin: ''Merlin Medal'', ''Merlin''s Beard''. Oh, and that ''Merlin Commemorative Coin'' that Professor Watson had given to Ron as a souvenir before leaving Hogwarts.

    When he first entered the underground world, Bryan was also as curious as all the ''neers'' about this ck tower. He also tried to st open the tower with spells like all the wizards who had entered here for thousands of years. But no matter how he tried, the mysterious ck tower remained intact, and not even a bit of stone debris fell off. It was as if the tower had a will of its own, and it rejected any intrusion or damage.

    "You guessed it right, Potter¨C"

    Bryan stepped back a few steps and calmly looked at the towering tower tip. He could see some faint runes like writing carved on the stone blocks, but he could not decipher them. Originally, he had lost interest in this tower, but after the trip to Avalon Ind, where he had seen some traces of Merlin, he became curious about it again.

    "There has always been a rumor here that people think that this tower is Merlin''s final burial ce, and that Merlin left unimaginable treasures in his tomb. If you get these treasures, you can have powerparable to those gods in mythology."

    "Power of gods? Don''t the wizards here try to open it?"

    Harry sneered at this statement. He looked back at the direction of the pet market, where he had seen some creatures being sold as ves or pets. His eyes were full of disgust. He raised his voice and asked, somehow, he suddenly thought of the Chamber of Secrets in the school.

    "Look at your feet, Potter¨C"

    Bryan pointed to the pitted ground and smiled sarcastically, "These are the traces left by those who tried to open the tower with spells. Unfortunately, no one has ever shaken this tower."

    The ''no one'' in Professor Watson''s words obviously included himself. Even a wizard like him, who had mastered many powerful and rare spells, had no way to deal with this cold ck tower. This made Harry more curious about the tower. Just as he was studying the narrow hole on the ck tower door that was muchrger than a normal keyhole, he heard Professor Watson say,

    "Among all the rumors rted to Merlin, this tower is the most authentic one. Since many years ago, the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic has been trying to get this tower back to the department and protect it as a precious cultural relic. But unfortunately, they tried all kinds of ways and failed to move the ck stone tower even an inch. So they had to reluctantly give up this idea."

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 0146 Lupinâ€™s Ambition

    0146 Lupin¡¯s Ambition

    When they returned to the bustling Diagon Alley, Harry noticed that there were obviously many more wizardsing and going than in the morning. He followed Professor Watson, who was wearing a dark blue cloak and a pointed hat, looking down at the cobblestones that reflected the dazzling sunlight, and said nothing. He felt a mixture of curiosity, confusion, and anger in his chest, but he didn''t know how to express it.

    Because neither of them had time to eat breakfast in the morning, they ordered some food from Tom, the friendly pub owner of the Leaky Cauldron, and found a ce far away from the group of guys who were smoking pipes and chatting loudly. They sat on a wooden bench next to a small round table, where a candle was burning dimly.

    Both of them had their own thoughts in their hearts, so no one spoke. The only sound was the clinking of cutlery and tes.

    Bryan chewed on the bread slice, silently recalling the huge mural in the central temple of Avalon Ind. The vivid colors and intricate details still lingered in his mind. The legendary wizard Merlin stood alone in front of the huge temple, gazing at the distant sky, with a solemn and lonely expression on his face. His long white beard and hair fluttered in the wind, and his robes were stained with blood. What happened afterwards was not recorded. It was as if time had stopped at that moment. After that No one knew where Merlin went or what he did.

    Bryan was thinking about a question. The mysterious tower in the underground world, if it was really left by Merlin as rumored, then when did he build the tower, before or after the duel?

    If it was before the duel, to be honest, Bryan would not be too interested in whether Merlin left any treasures in the tower or not. He had seen enough wonders and secrets in his life. But if it was after the duel¡­ Bryan narrowed his eyes, his eyes became deep, and his mouth stopped chewing.

    "The shadow in Morgan Le Fay''s body. The plot of the four founders of Hogwarts. The Twin-Serpent Staff. Merlin''s ck stone tower. If these are connected, it seems that an answer can be obtained."

    Unconsciously, Bryan put down his cutlery, his fingers lightly tapping on the uneven wooden table, gathering his wisdom, He tried to sort out the clues and find a logical connection.

    "The logic is reasonable, but there are still problems. Why can I touch the twin snake wand that even Godric Gryffindor can''t pick up? The prophecy of the former priest of Druidism also inexplicably involved me. And what revtion did that woman Cliodna get?"

    He frowned slightly, feeling that he was close to something important, but still missing some key clues.

    "Professor." Harry blinked his sses and stared at Professor Watson who was a little absent-minded, with worry in his eyes. "I seem to have heard you say Gryffindor?"

    "Ah¨C"

    Bryan came back to his senses and pursed his lips. He smiled to reassure Harry''s anxiety.

    "I was just thinking about some questions. It''s nothing to worry about."

    He nced at Harry''s eyes and found that there was a turbulent halo in the eyes of the little wizard in front of him. After a little thought, he chuckled and asked,

    "Are you still confused and angry about what you saw in the underground world?"

    Harry didn''t say anything, just lowered his head and said nothing. After a while, he asked sullenly,

    "That ce. Those dark wizards who treat magical creatures asmodities to buy and sell. Does Professor Dumbledore know all these things?"

    "Existence is reasonable, Potter. You think that underground cave and those wizards in it are evil and unforgivable. But you have to understand that at any time, there is always darkness in this world. Now, there is a ce that can restrain those darkness together. And there is a rtively reasonable order to restrain them. Don''t you think this is actually a good thing? Otherwise, those dark wizards who run around will only hurt more innocent people."

    Bryan did not answer Potter''s question directly, but instead talked about something else from a different perspective. He also did not expect Potter to agree with him easily. He knew that Potter had a strong sense of justice andpassion for others.

    However, his reasoning did not seem to enlighten Potter. Looking at Potter''s confusion still not dissipating from his face, Bryan thought for a while and thenforted him.

    "Don''t worry too much about understanding all this, Potter. Some truths can only be truly understood after years of polishing and experience."

    Bryan was about to say something else, but suddenly, a wizard who came in from the back door wearing a patched robe and carrying a shabby suitcase made Bryan''s eyes freeze. And that wizard also quickly noticed Bryan after entering the pub. He showed surprise first, then some joy on his pale face. But after noticing Harry sitting opposite Bryan, he hesitated for a moment and did not approach immediately.

    "¨CWe don''t have any other ns today, Potter,"

    Bryan said calmly to Harry without changing his expression. He sensed Lupin''s presence and decided to get rid of Harry first. He didn''t want to involve the boy in their conversation.

    "Now I think you''d better go upstairs and rest for a while. You can arrange your afternoon time freely. Well¡­you can go to that Quidditch boutique and take a good look at that beautiful big broom!"

    When he mentioned the broom that was so expensive that it was hard to imagine, Harry finally cheered up a bit. He finished the food on his te in two or three bites and then went upstairs. He cast a curious nce at Lupin, who was still standing by the door, but he didn''t say anything.

    "I''m surprised, Bryan. I didn''t expect to meet you here¨C"

    The grey-haired Remus Lupin came over and sat in Harry''s seat just now, smiling gently. He tried to act casual and friendly, but he couldn''t hide the nervousness in his voice.

    ''Sorry, are we very familiar?''

    Bryan rolled his eyes and thought so, but he didn''t bother to say anything. He just frowned and said coldly, "Why don''t you sell your herbs downstairs? What are you doing in the Leaky Cauldron?"

    "Werewolves need to eat too¨C"

    Lupin ignored Bryan''s coldness and just lowered his voice and said casually.

    There was nothing wrong with this sentence. Whether it was a wizard or a half-human wizard, they all needed to eat. But Bryan still felt a bit strange, because he knew the poor economic situation of the somewhat premature wizard in front of him. He had seen Lupin''s shabby clothes and suitcase, which were full of patches and holes. He knew that Lupin had been wandering around for many years, looking for rare herbs that could ease his pain during the full moon.

    "So it seems¨C" Bryan looked at Lupin with a gentle expression and raised his eyebrows slightly. "You finally found a way to get some galleons for yourself?"

    "It''s all thanks to you, Bryan¨C"

    Lupin nodded at Bryan and said softly. "I got some sry in advance from Dumbledore, which made me not have to worry about filling my stomach for a while."

    ''Got some sry in advance from Dumbledore?''

    Bryan frowned in confusion, but then he realized it and showed a surprised expression. Lupin meant that he agreed to his previous "friendly suggestion" and became the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts?!

    Because of the many things that happened during this time, Bryan almost forgot about this matter if it weren''t for Lupin''s reminder. However, Bryan''s confusion still did not dissipate. At the end of thest meeting, Lupin''s reaction did not seem like he was going to agree. He didn''t expect that after more than a month, he actually quietly sent his resume to Dumbledore?

    There must be something abnormal about this. There must be some reason he didn''t know. Bryan squinted his eyes and scrutinized Lupin, who had "tricked" himst time. His voice was doubtful.

    "You agreed¡­a wise decision. But, Lupin, this is quite surprising to me. I thought you couldn''t get over that hurdle in your heart!"

    He was referring to the hurdle of being a werewolf. Bryan knew that Lupin had always been ashamed of his identity and feared being discriminated against by others. He also knew that Hogwarts School Board had strict rules about epting half-human wizards as teachers or students.

    "I thought seriously about what you said to mest time, Bryan. As you said, if I can really contribute as a professor, maybe people will have a different view of werewolves."

    Lupin''s smiling face showed a trace of unnaturalness. He knew that the young wizard in front of him was powerful, but he didn''t expect that he was also so wise at such a young age.

    "You''re lying, Lupin. I''m sure there''s another reason." Bryan slightly raised his chin, his tone t. Lupin didn''t say anything anymore. Bryan''s oppressive gaze made him feel very uneasy. He sat there, subconsciously avoiding Bryan''s probing eyes.

    Actually, no matter what reason Lupin had for going to Hogwarts ording to his suggestion, it had nothing to do with Bryan. As long as he epted this job, Bryan would also get his revenge for being ''betrayed'' by Lupin before. But his evasive appearance made Bryan more alert.

    "Could it be that you and Dumbledore are plotting something together¡­Lupin, meeting me here by chance, wouldn''t it be something you nned long ago?"

    Lupin smiled bitterly. He didn''t expect Bryan to have such suspicions. Of course, thinking about how he had "framed" Bryan before, his vignce was very normal.

    "Actually." Bryan interrupted Lupin''s hard-thought excuse directly.

    "Unfortunately, Lupin, I happen to be good at Legilimency. If you''re not a master of ulumency or Mind arts, I think you don''t have to bother lying to me."

    Hearing this, Lupin''s forehead showed a few fine lines. He felt a chill in his spine, knowing that Bryan was not bluffing. He had heard of Bryan''s extraordinary talent in Legilimency, the art of prating the mind of another person. He knew that Bryan could easily read his thoughts and emotions if he was not careful.

    The reason why he decided to go to Hogwarts as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was not just simple poverty, but there was a deeper reason. He got some information from Dumbledore''s letter¡­information that the Ministry of Magic had not made public yet. Some information about the purpose of his "old friend" who had been imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years.

    Bryan Watson, Lupin knew he didn''t have much friendship with this person, but Dumbledore seemed to appreciate him very much.

    "I think¡­Bryan, you must have already known about ck." Lupin said cautiously, trying to gauge Bryan''s reaction.

    "Oh!" Bryan''s star-like eyes suddenly opened up, and his face showed a look of realization. He seemed to have guessed what Lupin was implying.

    "Oh!" Bryan repeated, his voice rising with excitement and anger.

    "I underestimated your ambition, Lupin!"

    Bryan clenched his left fist and mmed it on the table, making a loud noise that startled the other customers in the pub.

    "I''ve be so dull. I didn''t realize¡­ You also want to get the Ministry of Magic''s Fifty thousand galleons reward, right?"

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 Iam Sick

    Iam Sick

    Dear readers,

    I regret to inform you that I am feeling unwell and need some time to recover. Therefore, I won''t be able to update chapters for the next two days. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you and I appreciate your understanding and patience.

    I will try my best to resume writing as soon as possible and deliver quality content for you. Thank you for your support and love for the story. Please stay tuned for the next update and take care of yourselves.

    Sincerely, Your author

 0147 Cooperation

    0147 Cooperation

    What is called ''having a foot in the door'', this is it!

    In the wizarding world, the wizarding public was still uneasy about the whereabouts of Sirius ck after he escaped from Azkaban, the most secure prison for dark wizards and witches. But Remus Lupin, who had a close rtionship with Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had already figured out the real purpose of ck''s escape and took action!

    "Uh¨C"

    Lupin held his breath, blinked in confusion, and after a few seconds, his brain finally figured out what Bryan Watson was talking about.

    "Yes, Bryan, " Lupin''s eyes flickered, pursed his lips and said, "Cough¡­just like you said, the Ministry of Magic''s Fifty Thousand galleon bounty, such arge sum of money. Well, if I could get it, I probably wouldn''t have to worry about eating for the rest of my life."

    Bryan nodded approvingly. If it wasn''t for a very lucky situation, his annual ''output'' was probably only five or ten thousand galleons. Fifty thousand! Since graduating three or four years ago, he might not have earned that much money in total!

    "By the way¨C"

    Bryan tapped the table lightly again, looked at the werewolf in front of him who would soon be admitted to the ''VIP ward'' of St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries, his eyes sparkling, and a wonderful idea suddenly popped into his head.

    "Hey, Remus, how about we cooperate?" He whispered eagerly.

    "Cooperate? You mean¨C"

    Looking at Bryan Watson who suddenly became eager, Lupin suddenly felt a chill in his heart. Now, the one who became alert was him. Bryan leaned forward to the table, as if afraid of leaking important business secrets,

    "We all know that ck escaped from Azkaban for revenge. He will go to Harry Potter sooner orter¨C"

    Bryan Watson who was so eager didn''t notice that his words made Lupin''s hand under the table tremble.

    "¨CIt can be foreseen that he will try his best to get close to Harry Potter. Although Hogwarts has Dumbledore, he is not omnipotent. Just likest year''s Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin, Dumbledore failed to stop the plot in time,"

    Bryan continued with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "My point is, since you can appear in Hogwarts openly and honestly as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, you can help keep an eye on Potter. You are very alert, Remus. If ck really tries to approach Potter, you will definitely find some clues. At that time, you give me the clues and I will track down ck. If we seed, we can split the 50,000 galleons into seventy and thirty!"

    Lupin remained quiet with a strange silence and didn''t say a word. And his attitude caused Bryan some misunderstanding.

    "You think it''s too little?"

    Bryan frowned and his tone became unpleasant. "You know, ck is a very dangerous dark wizard. With your skills, even if you find him, you may not be able to deal with him."

    "No, I''m just¨C"

    Lupin seemed to have something stuck in his mouth and spit out one word at a time.

    "I''m just confused, Bryan. Dumbledore appreciates you very much, you can write a letter to him. He will definitely not stop you from returning to Hogwarts. But you¨C"

    "I have my own reasons, Remus," Bryan said regretfully. "I n to stay in Hogsmeade vige near Hogwarts. If something happens at school, you can notify me at any time by owl."

    Lupin fell silent again for a long time before slowly asking in a very tired voice,

    "If -, If You really catch ck someday, Bryan Watson. What will you do with him?"

    Bryan twitched his eyebrows and was a bit surprised by Lupin''s question.

    "Of course I will hand him over to the Ministry of Magic for a reward, Remus. Isn''t that the purpose of our cooperation?"

    He said matter-of-factly.

    "You don''t intend to kill him?" Lupin looked gloomy. "He is guilty of heinous crimes. He betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort and killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles with a single curse."

    "Judging sin is Wizengamot''s business, not mine," Bryan said lightly.

    Then he added, "And besides, he might be worth more alive."

    Looking at Bryan Watson who had already made up his mind to make a fortune in front of him, Lupin suddenly felt deep sadness in his heart. This sadness was not for Bryan Watson or himself but for his old friend Sirius ck.

    Back then when he decided to betray their friendship and defect to Voldemort, that evil madman, and offer James and Lily''s location to him, he must have thought that he would surely gain Voldemort''s trust and be given unprecedented glory by him. But did he ever think that one day he would fall into this situation because of that sin and be regarded as prey by neers who wanted to make a name for themselves in the wizarding world?

    "I have a condition, Bryan Watson, if you agree then we''ll cooperate."

    Lupin''s expression became solemn and he said in the coldest tone, "If Sirius ck ever falls into your hands someday, I hope you can hand him over to me."

    Noticing Bryan Watson''s confusion, Lupin gasped and said, "He killed three of my friends. Very good friends. I have to kill him myself."

    He clenched his fists and looked down trying to hide the pain in his eyes.

    Silence.

    Bryan stared deeply at the vicissitudes of Lupin and realized that he had made a mistake in his previous guess. This werewolf suddenly agreed to go to Hogwarts as a professor not for money but for revenge. He wanted to face ck himself and end their tragic history.

    "Okay, I agree to your request. If I catch ck, I will hand him over to you and let you kill him." Bryan nodded.

    "But after that, you can only take 20% of the reward." He added with a cunning smile.

    In the end, Bryan and Lupin reached an agreement and signed a magical contract. Bryan Watson who had been cheated once before by ''someone'' clearly stipted in the contract that Remus Lupin was not allowed to tell anyone about the cooperation between the two. He also made sure that the contract was bound by blood magic, so that any breach would result in severe consequences.

    "I noticed something¨C" Remus''s mood stabilized a lot. "The contract only restricts me from revealing the n but not you?"

    He asked suspiciously. Bryan stood up and stretched, waving his wand to put away the contract.

    "My mouth is tight, Remus, but I''m not sure if you''ll turn around and tell Albus Dumbledore. After all, there is a precedent for this." He said sarcastically, referring to Lupin''s confession about his identity to Dumbledore.

    After this was done, the two talked for a few more hours, not about ck but about the little wizards at Hogwarts.

    Although he went to Hogwarts as a professor for arge part of the reason to catch ck, as Bryan said before, this was indeed also a good opportunity to improve the negative image of werewolves in the wizarding society.

    Lupin hoped that by showing his kindness, intelligence and courage, he could change the prejudice and discrimination that many people had against his kind. If he could do well then in the future when these children enter the wizarding world and learn that one of their impressive Defense Against the Dark Arts professors was a werewolf they might not hate werewolves so much. They might even respect them and treat them as equals.

    Time passed quietly in the in and cozy room of the Leaky Cauldron where they met. The sun set and the stars came out. Soon the day of school wille.

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    Author''s Note: Hello, everyone. I hope you are all doing well. I want to thank you for your kind words and support, I¡¯m happy to announce that I feel better and I¡¯m ready to resume writing for you. I appreciate your patience and understanding during this difficult time.

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0148 The Poisonous Magic

    0148 The Poisonous Magic

    Sirius ck''s escape from prison caused a headache for the Ministry of Magic and fear for many wizarding families, but no matter what, the date of Hogwarts'' opening, which almost counted as an annual ''event'' in the wizarding world, remained unchanged.

    As the summer vacation came to an end, Diagon Alley gradually regained its usual bustle, though Bryan, who had rarely left his room since mid-August, could only judge from the noise outside the open window. He could hear the excited chatter of children, the haggling of merchants, and the asional roar of a magical creature.

    Hedwig''s cage was still hanging on the window bars, but the cage was empty. This snow-white and clever owl, like its owner, had gone out for a stroll. She enjoyed flying freely in the sky, hunting for mice and delivering letters for Bryan. She was loyal and smart, and knew when to return to her master.

    Bryan stared quietly at the frog in Hedwig''s cage that had been caught back as a snack, and after his thoughts cleared up a bit, he lowered his head and looked at the several torn research manuscripts spread out on the desk.

    He had gotten this pile of manuscripts from the underground world''s trading marketst time. ording to the boss who sold them, these were the research manuscripts left by an ancient Greek Dark wizard who was regarded as the pioneer in the field of the Dark Arts¨C Herpo The foul, who invented the Horcrux and the blood curse. Bryan didn''t care whether these manuscripts were really left by Herpo, but the content they contained was indeed worth the dozens of galleons he spent.

    "¨CTo engrave a curse or a magic into the soul of a living being, as long as the race does not die out, this particr race will be cursed forever. What a terrible magic."

    Bryan squinted his eyes and tapped his fingers lightly on the desk. He felt a chill run down his spine as he read those words. He wondered what kind of twisted mind coulde up with such a cruel idea.

    In his memory, there seemed to be indeed a kind of lost curse that had a simr effect - the blood curse. The blood curse would allow the cursed person to have two forms of human and snake that could be switched between each other. It sounded amazing, but it was actually very cruel, because this curse would continuously ''pollute'' the magic in the cursed person''s blood, and would speed up the pollution as the magic in the body became stronger. Until one day when you could no longer resist, you would lose your human form and memory forever.

    The most desperate thing about this curse was that it would spread like a virus through blood ties. In other words, once a wizard was cursed, then his descendants would suffer this despairing pain generation after generation until this family died out one day.

    Compared to the three unforgivable curses, Bryan thought this blood curse was much more terrible. When he was studying at Hogwarts, Bryan learned about the introduction of the blood curse from a book called "The Most Poisonous Magic" in the restricted section. That book also mentioned Horcruxes in passing, and there was text saying that these two curses were both invented by the Greek Dark wizard Herpo.

    The pile of rotten paper in front of him recorded some experimental records during the creation of this curse, as well as iplete theoretical foundations.

    Bryan had been studying these manuscripts for some time, and based on the iplete information on them, he tried to deduce the theoretical structure of the magic, and then get the corresponding spell and casting posture from theplex structure of the spell.

    It was broad daylight, but as Bryan''s wand tip drew out mysterious trajectories in the air, the room with open windows gradually darkened, as if a thin veil of shadow seeped out from nowhere and obscured the light in the room.

    The ominous atmosphere that gradually filled the air made the frog in Hedwig''s cage uneasy. It stood up on its legs and leaned on the iron cage, making noisy croaks. It sensed something dangerous was about to happen.

    Bryan stared at the frog in the cage with a cold expression. Unconsciously, his illusion magic that covered his eyes had been broken by his continuously surging magic. Those eyes that were like pure purple gems showed a palpable malice. The frog that couldn''t move floated up uncontrobly, as if it was being pulled by an invisible force. Even though it only had a shallow self-awareness, its two bulging eyes showed clear fear, as if it knew it was doomed. It tried to struggle, but it was useless. It was trapped in a nightmare that it could not escape.

    The green color on the frog''s skin gradually turned gray-white in the twisted space that enveloped its body, and melted like wax liquid and disappearedpletely.

    It was as if its life was being drained away by some invisible force, leaving behind only a hollow shell. Where the frog used to be, there appeared a vague frog outline that emitted a faint white glow. It looked like a ghost.

    ''Soul.''

    Underneath his powerful and evil magic power, Bryan''s handsome face showed an indescribable majesty. He moved his wand slowly and gently. Strands of ck gas spewed out from his wand tip.

    They were like the breath of death, cold and sinister. As soon as those snake-like twisting ck gas appeared in the room, the slightly dim air began to vibrate slightly. If it weren''t for some defensive spells that Bryan had set up beforehand, then I''m afraid everyone in The Leaky Cauldron would have been affected!

    They would have felt a chill in their bones, a sense of dread in their hearts, and a loss of hope in their minds. As the closest one to the ck gas, the frog soul undoubtedly suffered the most. The white outline trembled so fast that it almost left a trail in the air.

    It felt an unbearable pain, as if its soul was being torn apart by thousands of sharp des. Seeing this situation, Bryan''s movements became even more gentle. His wand-holding hand was gentle as if he was stroking his lover''s cheek. Oh, no, he didn''t have a lover, like he was stroking glittering galleons.

    Under his control, those ck gas that twisted their bodies like snakes gradually stretched out their tentacles to the white soul, slowly and steadily. They were like greedy parasites, trying to devour the soul of the frog and turn it into a cursed seed.

    Bang!

    A dull roar sounded in the room. The breeze that came face to face carried countless dreamy light spots like fireflies, making Bryan squint his eyes subconsciously. He raised his arm to shield his face from the sudden explosion of light.

    He failed.

    Bryan waved his hand to disperse the scattered frog soul light spots. He had a sh of insight in his heart, but his expression didn''t show much disappointment.

    He was used to failure, and he knew that sess was not easy toe by. Experimental research and spell deduction were like this. Failure was normal, sess was idental. As long as he could find a perfect way, he wouldn''t get nothing.

    Bryan waved his wand to clean up the pus on Hedwig''s cage, then leaned back on the chair and picked up the manuscripts that were hard to identify and studied them. From time to time, he flipped through the runes that looked like hieroglyphs and checked if there were any trantion errors.

    He had spent a lot of time and effort on deciphering these ancient texts, but he still felt that there were some gaps in his understanding. On one corner of the desk was a stack of new parchment papers filled with forms. That was the process of Bryan''splete deduction of the spell structure during this period of time. After the manuscript didn''t give him any more inspiration, Bryan reached for his draft paper and checked his deduction process himself, but he still didn''t find any problems.

    This was strange!

    Bryan closed his eyes and thought about it in his mind.

    He recalled every step of his experiment, every detail of his spell casting, every reaction of his target. He tried to find out where he went wrong, what he missed, what he overlooked. ording to the content recorded on these manuscripts he got, if the magic was sessfully cast, then he would get a cursed frog soul, and this soul would be a curse seed. When he wanted to curse someone someday, there would be another spell that would forcibly embed this curse seed into the cursed person''s soul.

    In this way, the curse would be sessful, and the cursed person and his descendants would face a living hell. They would turn into frogs at most before they were thirty years old.

    The creator of this curse didn''t think about how to lift it at all during the creation process. So unless they stopped reproducing, the pain would be passed on for generations.

    ''Why did it fail?''

    Bryan was still pondering this question, but footsteps in the corridor interrupted his thinking process. Before the visitor knocked on the door, Bryan had already eliminated all the ''evidence of crime'', and when he got up, he casually brushed his eyes and ''restored'' the color of his eyes.

    He didn''t want anyone to see his true eye color, which was a sign of his immense magic power. He had cast an illusion spell on himself long ago, changing his eyes from purple to brown. He had to be careful not to expose his secrets, especially in the wizarding world.

    I need a quiet ce where I won''t be disturbed for my experiments and research.

    As he walked towards the wooden door, Bryan suddenly remembered the magical room on the seventh floor of Hogwarts Castle. That was really a good ce for experiments and research. It was called the Room of Requirement, and it could transform into anything the user needed. Bryan had discovered it by ident when he was a student, and he had used it many times for his private studies.

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    Author''s Note: These things rted to spell and spell theories is all mostly based on HP forum and fan-made theories.

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0149 Family Dinner

    0149 Family Dinner

    On a night when the moon was bright and the stars were sparse, a lively family dinner was taking ce in the Leaky Cauldron pub. The pub was a cozy and warm ce, with wooden tables and chairs, a firece, and various magical objects hanging on the walls. Apart from Charlie and Bill, who were working abroad, the entire Weasley family was present. They upied arge table near the window, where they could see the bustling Diagon Alley outside.

    In addition to the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and Bryan were also special guests of the family dinner. They had been invited by Mrs. Weasley, who wanted to express her gratitude to them for saving her two youngest children from the Chamber of Secrets. Even the pub owner Tom, who usually kept a low profile, was pulled by Mrs. Weasley, whose cheeks were flushed from drinking, to sit on a chair and drink two sses of mead with them.

    "I don''t know how to thank you, dear!"

    Mrs. Weasley clutched Bryan''s sleeve and said, this was the fifth time she said this to Bryan tonight, "I can''t imagine what would have happened if Ginny and Ron really¡­oh, it''s too horrible!"

    She shuddered at the thought of her children being killed by the Basilisk that had been unleashed from that chamber. She hugged Bryan tightly, as if he was her own son.

    "We were going to Hogwarts personally to thank you, Bryan¨C"

    Mr. Weasley wiped the sweat beads on his slightly bald forehead and said with a smile. He was wearing a mismatched suit that he had borrowed from a Muggle friend for the asion. He had been very nervoustely because of Sirius ck''s escape from Azkaban prison. He worked at the Ministry of Magic''s Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, and he had been busy dealing with the aftermath of ck''s breakout. Therefore, he rarely encountered a happy thing. Tonight, he indulged himself a little and drank a lot of rum with his old friend Tom.

    "That thing back then." Mr. Weasley burped and said, "I mean when you and Bill and Charlie were at Hogwarts, after that terrible incident that night, Molly and I wanted to go to Hogwarts to thank you in person, but Snape told us you needed to be locked up for rest of the term and wouldn''t let us see you for half a year. He said you had been exposed to some dark magic that could affect your mind. After you got Ginny and Ron out of the Chamber of Secrets, we nned to visit again. I wrote to Dumbledore to ask if it was appropriate, but he told us you had left school and your whereabouts were a mystery!"

    He looked at Bryan with curiosity and admiration. Sitting opposite Bryan, Fred and George, the two brothers looked at their dizzy parents and snickered nonstop. The other little ones also had roughly the same reaction. Only the biggest child of the Weasley family in here, Percy frowned and looked unhappy.

    "Oh, Dad and Mum!"

    Percy straightened his chest with the badge of the Head Boy on it, so that the badge would be more dazzling in the candlelight, andined in a serious tone.

    "We are all very happy to see Professor Watson again, Dad and Mum, but you are being a bit rude!"

    "It''s okay, Percy¨C"

    Bryan leaned on Mrs. Weasley, who was dizzy but still smiling warmly at him, and smiled at Percy.

    "This is not school, we don''t have to be too rigid. Ah, by the way, I haven''t had time to congratte you on bing the Head Boy. Dumbledore made a wise choice, didn''t he? I think you deserve it, just like your brother Bill¨C"

    Percy blushed and didn''t know how to answer, so he could only use a ''fierce'' look at the twins who were making vomiting gestures on the side.

    The family atmosphere of the Weasley family was indeed very good. Influenced by this atmosphere, Bryan was also in a good mood. He talked with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley about his ssmates who had graduated.

    Among these people, quite a few of them had faded away from the crowd. Some of them even had closer ties with the Muggle world, such as Francis Riley, who had be a slightly famous painter, and Bridget Bacon, who had joined a rock band. There were only a few outstanding ones, such as Nymphadora Tonks, who had joined the Ministry of Magic as an Auror.

    "Oh, I know that girl. She''s very passionate and very popr in the Auror office¨C"

    Mr. Weasley picked up his ss and clinked with Bryan again.

    "Speaking of which, Rufus and his men have been unluckytely. They ran into a hard nut to crack. They stayed in St Mungo''s for more than half a month before they came to their senses. They were ready to make some achievements in front of Fudge and old Barty, but they ran into ck¨C"

    Cough¨C

    Bryan coughed awkwardly and quickly changed the topic.

    "Speaking of which, I heard that Bill graduated and went to Egypt''s Gringotts as a curse breaker. How is he doingtely?"

    "Oh, speaking of this!" Mrs. Weasley, who had been smiling all night long suddenly became angry.

    "Bill and his colleagues were entangled by those damn goblins from Gringotts!"

    She mmed her fist on the table, making the tes and sses rattle.

    "Goblins from Gringotts?"

    Bryan blinked his eyes in surprise and asked, "Isn''t he working for Gringotts?"

    He had a hard time believing that Bill, who was one of the most talented and responsible wizard he had ever seen, would be involved in a shady business.

    "This thing has something to do with Rufus and those dark wizards they encountered."

    Mr. Weasley shook his head with a bitter smile. He looked very tired and worried, as if he had aged a lot in the past few months.

    "Two months ago, Rufus and his men intercepted a group of dark wizards who smuggled relics. The things they had were exactly what Bill and his colleagues dug out. The group of dark wizards attacked Bill and his colleagues as soon as they handed over the things to Gringotts. This thing was too suspicious. The goblins thought there must be traitors among Bill and his colleagues so they asked the Egyptian Ministry of Magic to lock them all up for interrogation."

    He exined the situation in a low voice, as if he was afraid of being overheard by someone. Bryan pursed his lips and lowered his head suddenly interested in the ss in front of him.

    "¨COf course, the result of the interrogation was that Bill and his colleagues were innocent, but the goblins refused to ept this result. They demanded that all wizard employees must ept their surveince until they find the things back. In my opinion, those greedy goblins should be more self-reflective. They are more likely to do such things!"

    Mrs. Weasley, who had finally had a chance to visit her eldest son, but ran into this kind of thing, shouted angrily. She mmed her fist again on the table, making the tes and sses rattle. She was very protective of her children, and she hated anyone who tried to harm them or use them falsely. She also despised the goblins for their cunning and selfishness, and she wished she could give them a piece of her mind.

    "Cough cough, you''re right, Mrs. Weasley. Indeed, I think this thing is more like what the goblins did!"

    Bryan coughed a few times, with an innocent face, and nodded in agreement.

    The lively family dinnersted until after nine o''clock before it finally ended. Bryan, who had often apanied customers to drink in his previous life, had a great result. He was still sober and energetic, while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were carried upstairs by their three eldest sons. They were both drunk and sleepy, but they still thanked Bryan repeatedly for saving their children. Their youngest daughter Ginny, who looked more energetic thanst year, ran to the boss for two sses of honey water and then ran upstairs. She gave one ss to Bryan with a shy smile, and then followed her brothers to help her parents settle down.

    Bryan held a cup of steaming tea and leaned on a pir that supported the upper floor, looking at the three little ones who had hardly had a chance to talk to him all night long, and said with a smile,

    "I noticed that you have something to say to me, right?"

    He winked at them yfully, as if he could read their minds. He enjoyed teasing them and making them feel curious and nervous.

    After spending a summer vacation and being tanned by two degrees, Hermione smiled shyly and then looked at Harry with concern and said,

    "Harry told us some things¨C"

    Bryan''s eyes immediately pointed at Harry and his eyebrows were raised.

    ''This kid wouldn''t be stupid enough to gossip about Watson Manor and his identity everywhere, would he?''

    "Oh, it''s about ck, Professor!"

    Facing Professor Watson''s sharp eyes, Harry suddenly realized what he had done and shivered, quickly exining,

    "I told Ron and Hermione my guess that ck escaped from prison to kill me, and also that you epted Fudge''smission and are hunting ck down. I didn''t say anything else!"

    Bryan nodded in satisfaction and his eyes softened. I had been studying blood curses recently and was short of experimental materials

    "You have other secrets you haven''t told us!"

    Ron immediately understood what was going on and red at Harry unhappily.

    Hermione was also curious about Harry''s hidden secrets, but she was obviously more worried about Harry''s safety.

    "Professor, how are you going to deal with that ck?"

    She asked with a serious tone, showing her intelligence and maturity. As soon as Hermione''s question came out, something in Ron''s pocket suddenly stirred. In a moment, a wilted rat popped out of his pocket. Its ck eyes showed curiosity.

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0150 Hogsmeade

    0150 Hogsmeade

    Whoosh!

    A clear yellow figure shed past Bryan''s eyes like lightning, and pounced directly on Ron''s pocket. It was arge, ginger-colored cat with a squashed face and a bottle-brush tail, which Hermione had received as a birthday present from her parents. The cat''s name was Crookshanks, and it had a fierce hatred for Ron''s pet rat, Scabbers.

    "Ow, damn it!"

    Ron jumped up from his seat subconsciously, holding Hermione''s snarling cat with both hands, trying to keep it as far away from his cheeks as possible, lest his eyes be scratched out by the sharp ws. He felt a sharp pain in his chest where Crookshanks had dug his teeth into the fabric of his sweater.

    "Can''t you control this beast, Hermione, this is the second time today it''s tried to rip off my scalp!" he yelled, his voice cracking with fear and anger.

    "Oh, don''t be like that, Crookshanks!" Hermione, who was a beat slower, snatched back her birthday present from Ron''s hands, lest he strangle it in frustration.

    "That''s a bit rude, Crookshanks!" she scolded the cat sternly, but her tone was also full of affection. She stroked his fur gently and kissed his head, making him purr contentedly. When the ginger-colored cat, which was about the size of a young tiger, calmed down, Hermione hugged it tightly in her arms and looked at Ron apologetically.

    "Rude? Is that all?!" Ron shouted at Hermione angrily, but Hermione only cared about soothing the beast and ignored him. She didn''t seem to notice how Ron''s face turned red with embarrassment and resentment. Ron felt like he was being treated unfairly by both Hermione and her cat.

    "That rat¨C" Bryan rubbed his brow and pointed in the direction of the stairs.

    In that short time, the rat that poked its head out of Ron''s pocket moved faster than the big yellow cat, almost in the blink of an eye. The rat slid down Ron''s trouser leg, agilely dodged the cluttered table and chair legs, slipped behind the bar, and ran across the aisle at a fast speed, disappearing around the corner of the stairs. It was a scrawny and balding rat with a few patches of gray fur and a long pink tail. It looked old and sickly, but it had a surprising burst of energy when it sensed danger.

    "Oh, Scabbers!" Reminded by Professor Watson, Ron realized that Scabbers had escaped his control again. He left behind the few people in the hall and hurried after him. He hoped to catch him before he got lost or eaten by some other animal.

    Scabbers was his pet rat that he had inherited from his brother Percy when he went to Hogwarts. He had been with him for three years and he had grown fond of him despite his appearance andck of personality.

    "Scabbers is a pet that Ron inherited from Percy,"

    Noticing that Professor Watson''s expression was a bit wrong, Harry volunteered to exin.

    "He''s very old and he''s a bit out of sorts because he went to Egypt with Mr. Weasley and them. So Ron is very worried about him."

    Harry felt sorry for Ron and his rat.

    "He looked pretty spirited¨C"

    Bryan smiled and dismissed the sudden sense of strangeness in his mind that he had caught a glimpse of just now. He responded to Hermione''s gaze and said,

    "Dealing with ck has never been a problem, Miss Granger. The key is how to find him."

    Bryan looked at Harry and his tone became serious.

    "I have to remind you, Potter. If ck really is as loyal to Voldemort as rumored, then you have to be careful this year. If I say if he really faces you in person when no one else is around, I think he probably won''t waste too much time on torturing you."

    Bryan spoke with a grave voice that made Harry shiver involuntarily.

    Harry understood what Professor Watson meant, but he wasn''t too worried. The reason was Dumbledore. Think about it. In Voldemort''s most powerful era, he didn''t dare to rush into Hogwarts where Dumbledore was. Harry didn''t believe that Voldemort''s henchman had more courage than his master and dared to sneak into Hogwarts to trouble him. Harry trusted Dumbledore''s wisdom and power more than anything else. He was the only one who had ever defeated Voldemort and he was the headmaster of Hogwarts. Harry felt safe under his protection.

    "The Ministry of Magic and Professor Dumbledore both know ck''s purpose for escaping,"

    Hermione was a bit dissatisfied with Harry''s indifference, but she also knew that this was his old problem. No matter how much she reminded him, it was hard to change. She was a smart and diligent girl who always followed the rules and did her homework. She liked to read books and learn new things. She cared a lot about Harry and Ron, who were her best friends, but they often annoyed her with their recklessness andziness.

    "Next year, I think there will be tight defenses in the school. Professor, do you think that ck can still sneak into Hogwarts to harm Harry under these circumstances?"

    she asked Bryan with a hopeful tone. She wanted to hear some reassuring words from him. Bryan stood up and stretchedzily without caring about his image.

    "Remember my words, Granger. And Potter. Never pin your hopes on your enemy''s ipetence and stupidity. Otherwise, you''re ying with your own life. That''s enough chit-chat. It''ste. You have to get up early tomorrow to catch the train. Now go to bed."

    Bryan said with a final warning and a dismissive gesture. He didn''t choose to go to King''s Cross Station with Harry, Hermione and the boys and girls of the Weasley family by bus from the Ministry of Magic and then take the Hogwarts Express to Hogsmeade. Instead he chose to leave alone.

    This was what he and Lupin had nned. In this school year when ck had not been captured yet, Lupin stayed in Hogwarts and paid attention to everything around Harry Potter, the ''savior''. This was equivalent to an open defense force that could deter any potential attackers.

    Bryan lurked in Hogsmeade and watched for any signs of movement around the school.

    Of course, lurking here doesn''t necessarily mean squatting in the dark and not letting anyone find out. Bryan had to act like a normal visitor who came to enjoy the charms of Hogsmeade, the only all-wizarding vige in Britain. He had to mingle with the crowds, visit the shops, and chat with the locals. He had to avoid arousing any suspicion or curiosity from anyone who might be watching him. It means not sending out any signals that you''re tracking ck to the outside world.

    Actually, Bryan nned this way not so much as guarding against ck as being careful of Dumbledore. This old guy was cunning and vicious and especially idle. He didn''t want him to know his n ande up with some ''tricks''.

    Early the next morning, at dawn, the pure and cozy sunlight seeped through the gaps in the curtains, forming weak and shifting light and shadows on the wooden floor. The light cast a warm glow on the furniture and objects in the room, creating a contrast with the coldness outside. The room was spacious andfortable, with a firece, a sofa, a table, and several beds. It was one of the rooms in the Leaky Cauldron, a famous pub and inn for wizards in London.

    "How many times do I have to stress it, Molly? The paper didn''t report it because Fudge wanted to cover it up, but Fudge went to Azkaban the night ck escaped.

    The guards told him that for a long time, ck had been talking in his sleep, saying over and over again, ''He''s at Hogwarts. He''s at Hogwarts.'' ck''s gone mad, Molly. He wants Harry''s life. If you ask me, he thinks killing Harry will make You-Know-Who rise again. Harry stopped You-Know-Who that night, and ck lost everything. He stayed in Azkaban alone for twelve years, thinking about it all the time."

    In the dark room next door, Bryan looked at the mirror and slightly tidied up his messy hair. He was getting ready to leave for Hogsmeade after spending a night at the Leaky Cauldron. Suddenly he heard a suppressed quarrel from the next room where the Weasleys lived. Although he had no intention of eavesdropping on the couple''s privacy, those whispers were hard to hear for Bryan, whose senses were especially sharp because of magic. He recognized the voices of Arthur and Molly Weasley.

    No wonder Fudge was so sure that ck would go after Harry. Bryan had a sh of insight in his mind as he heard Arthur''s words. He realized that Fudge had some information that he didn''t share with the public or even with Dumbledore.

    He had stayed in Azkaban for more than ten years, apanied by Dementors day and night. Even so, he still remembered to avenge his old master. To be honest, this ''loyalty'' moved Bryan a little bit while also sighing at Voldemort''s ''charisma''.

    "So¨C"

    Bryan looked at Harry who was lying on the bed in a sprawl, sleeping sweetly and unaware of anything. He whispered with a smile, "Good luck to you, Potter¨C"

    After saying this, Bryan picked up his suitcase and quietly left the room. He didn''t want to disturb Harry or anyone else. He wanted to slip away unnoticed and head to Hogsmeade as soon as possible. He had a lot of work to do and not much time to waste.

    Although the sun had notpletely escaped the shackles of the earth, the azure blue that prated through the high sky told people that today would be a good day.

    The air was fresh and crisp, the birds were singing, and the flowers were blooming. It was a perfect day for a stroll or a pic, or for any other activity that involved enjoying the beauty of nature. Thick and misty clouds rose from the center of the ck Lake, drifting with the morning breeze. The Hogwarts castle standing on the high ground was faintly visible in the clouds. This picture was beautiful and beautiful, like a fairy talee true.

    Unfortunately, not far from the castle, a swaying ck cloud that made people feel cold just by looking at it ruined the beauty of this picture. It was a sign of the presence of Dementors, the foul creatures that guarded Azkaban prison. They were hooded figures that sucked out the happiness and life force of anyone who came near them. They were probably sent by Fudge to patrol around Hogwarts in case ck tried to enter the school grounds.

    Even Hogsmeade vige at the edge of the mountains and forests was vaguely affected by the ck cloud, revealing a sense of coldness and depression.

    Hogsmeade was a charming and lively vige that offered many attractions and services for wizards of all ages. It had pubs, shops, cafes, and even a haunted house. It was a popr destination for Hogwarts students who were allowed to visit it on certain weekends. It was usually a ce of joy and fun, but now it was overshadowed by fear and gloom.

    "Ha, caught one. Raise your hands over your head and let me see your wand, sir!"

    Just as he appeared in front of Honeydukes candy shop in Hogsmeade vige and was staring at that ominous ck cloud, a solemn and stern voice suddenly came from behind Bryan.

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 0151 Old Classmates

    0151 Old ssmates

    Bryan did not raise his hands above his head, or even make a vignt posture, but twitched his mouth, turned his back to the person behind him, and politely asked,

    "Excuse me, nobledy, whatw did I break?"

    His voice was calm andposed, as if he was not bothered by the sudden intrusion.

    "Oh, don''t you know?"

    The voice still maintained a serious tone, but it sounded like it was suppressing a smile,

    "Don''t you know, sir, that the Auror office has obtained the approval of the Magical Transportation Department and Minister Fudge to impose traffic control in Hogsmeade. Anyone whoes to Hogsmeade vige without prior application by apparition, floowork or portkey is not allowed. You made a big mistake, sir!"

    She spoke with a mock authority, as if she was reading from a script. She was trying to sound like a strictw enforcer, but her voice betrayed her amusement.

    "But the Ministry''s press conferences and the Daily Prophet have not reported anything about this recently."

    Bryan pursed his lips and smiled. He knew that the voice belonged to an old friend of his, who liked to tease him. He decided to y along with her joke.

    "We posted a notice on the bulletin board at the Diagon alley and the entrance of vige gate. It''s your problem that you didn''t see it, sir, not the Ministry''s fault!"

    Bryan had already heard theughter of the person behind him. Before he could say anything, the person behind him hadpletely given up pretending andughed out loud,

    "For your kind of disregard for thew, Bryan Watson, I think you need to be severely punished. Hmm, I have an idea. How about a term of detention?"

    Bryan alsoughed. He turned around and looked at the person behind him and joked,

    "You want me to be in detention? Of course, no problem, Tonks, as long as someone apanies me."

    He saw a young woman with a round face and bright eyes standing behind him. She was wearing a ck robe with a silver badge that identified her as an Auror. Her hair was changing colors rapidly, from pink to blue to green to purple, reflecting her mood.

    The morning Hogsmeade vige was bathed in the cool sunlight like water. Most of the local residents had not left home yet. There were not many pedestrians on themercial street where Bryan and Tonks shook hands with a smile.

    They walked into the empty Three Broomsticks pub, where they were greeted by the charmingndy Mrs. Rosmerta. She walked over and put down a ss of syrup soda and a cup of green tea from the tray. She nodded her head and walked away tactfully.

    "Some things are unspoken secrets,"

    Tonks fiddled with her slightly dull violet hair and changed them to the same color as the ripe wheat in autumn. She looked at Bryan curiously and said enthusiastically,

    "You know, Bryan, the Daily Prophet said that boy and his friends got that Basilisk from Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets, but everyone in the department knows that it was you who pulled those kids out of the snake''s mouth. But few people in the department know where you came from. Many people are asking around about your background!"

    She leaned forward and lowered her voice, as if she was sharing a juicy gossip.

    "Did you tell them who I am?" Bryan smiled and didn''t seem to mind. He knew that Tonks was one of the few people who knew his ''true'' identity.

    "I know you don''t like to attract attention, Bryan¨C" Tonks said proudly, "There''s a nasty woman named Umbridge who''s been asking a lot of young people in the department about you. She also came to me, but I didn''t say a word."

    She made a face and stuck out her tongue, showing her dislike for Umbridge.

    "Much appreciated¨C"

    Umbridge was the senior undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic. She was said to be Fudge''s right-hand man and trusted by Fudge very much. Bryan guessed that this woman probably wanted to recruit some young wizards who were good at their skills but not well-known for Fudge.

    In case one day Fudge and Dumbledore had a falling out. Some of the people in the Ministry were more loyal to power, some were neutralists, and quite a few were Dumbledore''s obedient ''students''. If one day Dumbledore called for action, it was hard to say who they would listen to! Bryan frowned slightly at the thought of this possibility. He hoped that it would never happen.

    "By the way," Bryan looked at Tonks''s ck robe worn by Aurors on missions, his eyes flickered for a moment, "You became an Auror? That''s a very good job. Among our graduates that year, except for Bill Weasley who met all the requirements for Auror recruitment, everyone else''s grades seemed to be unqualified?"

    "I was specially recruited," Tonks raised her nose and said proudly, "You know, Bryan, I''m a Metamorphmagus. I have a natural talent for hiding and disguising. Of course, being an Auror is not an easy job. I''m still an ''intern''. By the way, Bryan, what have you been doing these years under a false name? I mean, before you returned to Hogwarts as an ''investigator'' earlier this year?"

    Tonks asked with curiosity and admiration.

    "Frencer¨C" Bryan picked up the tea cup and smiled, "I aim to help some people who are in trouble solve their current predicaments."

    "That doesn''t sound like a serious job¨C" Tonks asked suspiciously.

    "Yeah," Bryan nodded, his tone serious, "Aurors are our enemies."

    He said it as a joke, but there was a hint of truth in it.

    A carriage full of oak barrels stopped outside the pub. Thendy picked up a fancy money bag and hurriedly pushed the door to pick up the goods. In the pub, there were only Bryan and Tonks left. They sat at a corner table, away from the windows and the firece. They wanted some privacy and quietness for their conversation. Bryan leaned back in his chair with a smile on his face. Tonks across from him was talking enthusiastically about her exciting Auror career.

    "It was so close, Bryan" Tonks held up a finger and gestured, "I swear, it was so close that we caught those dark wizards who smuggled artifacts. Before that operation, Kingsley told me privately that if I could perform brilliantly in the arrest operation, he would be willing to go to Mr. Scrimgeour to apply for shortening my internship period on my behalf. It''s a pity that the damn dark wizard who popped out of nowhere ruined everything. He made me lie in St. Mungo''s for half a month. The Auror office also lost two months'' bonus because of this. I was nning to use that money to buy myself a broom!"

    She spoke with passion and frustration, recalling the details of the mission that went wrong..

    Bryan didn''t know what to say, so he just kept smiling.

    Tonks, who clenched her teeth, drank the syrup soda in her ss. She seemed to be still angry and wanted to find thendy for a more stimting drink. She looked up and found that there was no one in the shop, so she mmed the ss on the table. She cursed under her breath and looked around for Mrs. Rosmerta. She wanted to order something stronger than soda, something that could drown her sorrows and make her forget her failures.

    "By the way!"

    Looking at the calm Bryan,pared to herself who was excited by meeting an old ssmate after many years, Bryan Watson had been very graceful and calm except for the moment when they met - Tonks was not surprised by Bryan''s performance. Back in school, this Slytherin wizard who seemed indifferent to everything was like this.

    He was always cool and collected, never showing much emotion or interest in anything. He was smart and talented, but he kept a low profile and avoided trouble.

    "By the way, Bryan, why are you here in Hogsmeade? I heard you''re no longer working at Hogwarts?" Tonks changed the topic and asked casually.

    Bryan knew that the Ministry probably arranged Tonks here to watch ck. He certainly wouldn''t tell her that he actually came here for the same purpose,

    "You know, Tonks,"

    Bryan looked out of the window at the row of old houses with chimneys smoking white smoke next to the street, "I returned to Hogwarts earlier this year. Of course, I also came to this vige and found that I liked the living environment here very much. Hmm. It reminded me of many good memories of studying at Hogwarts. So, after careful consideration for a while, I decided to stay here for a while. I came here this time hoping to find a rental house in the vige¨C"

    He lied smoothly and convincingly, making up a usible reason for his presence in Hogsmeade. He pretended to be nostalgic and sentimental about his school days, hoping to divert Tonks'' attention from his real motives.

    ording to Bryan''s understanding of Tonks, she would make a few jokes when she heard him say ''good memories of studying''. For example, ''Good memories, do you mean being locked up in Professor Snape''s office for a term?'' or something like that.

    But to his surprise, this good-natured girl did not behave like that, but instead became serious and solemn, with solemnity in her eyes,

    "You want to settle in Hogsmeade, at this time?"

    "If it were any other time, there would be no problem, Bryan,"

    Tonks became serious when she talked about business. She nced at thendy outside bargaining and lowered her voice to warn Bryan, "But now, this is not a peaceful ce!"

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 0152 Secrets

    0152 Secrets

    Bryan knew what Tonks meant by ''not peaceful''. He was well aware of the gossip culture that pervaded the British Ministry of Magic. Most of the employees there had graduated from Hogwarts, and they still retained the old habit of their school days. As long as they learned a juicy secret, they couldn''t wait to share it with everyone they knew. Therefore, the shocking news that Sirius ck, the notorious mass murderer and Death Eater, had escaped from Azkaban to kill Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was something that almost everyone who had anything to do with the Ministry of Magic knew, even though the Daily Prophet had not reported it yet.

    Fudge, the Minister of Magic, had entrusted him to look after Harry during the summer vacation. Mr. Weasley, who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, obviously knew about it in advance, but for Tonks, who was a rookie Auror and still had to ''practice for two and a half years'', she apparently didn''t have as many connections as Mr. Weasley, otherwise she wouldn''t have said that to him.

    Bryan didn''t pretend to be confused, because he also wanted to hear from Tonks what progress the Aurors had made in capturing ck. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if he was afraid of being overheard by someone.

    "If you mean ck," he said cautiously. "I already know he might cause some trouble, but I don''t think the Ministry needs to worry too much. After all¨C"

    He pointed to the direction of Hogwarts outside the window and imitated Harry''s expression when he mentioned Dumbledore. He tried to sound confident and reassuring.

    "Our headmaster is not a simple man!"

    "Oh, you already know?" Tonks asked, her voice slightly disappointed. She had been ready to spill the ''secret'' to Bryan, but now she realized that he was not as clueless as she had thought. She muttered a few words under her breath, but didn''t seem too surprised. Apparently, she also had some understanding of the Ministry''s leaky nature.

    "¨CThat''s not necessarily true, Bryan. Dumbledore has his blind spots too, right? Otherwise, he wouldn''t have allowed ck to be the Potter''s Secret-Keeper!"

    The bar suddenly became very quiet. Tonks looked at Bryan with confusion when she didn''t get a response. To her surprise, she saw a stunned and astonished handsome face staring back at her.

    "Oh, you don''t know this!" Tonks eximed, her eyes lighting up. "You haven''t heard of this?"

    Bryan slowly closed his mouth and hesitated to nod. He felt like he had just been hit by a stunning spell.

    Whoosh! Tonks'' golden hair turned pink in an instant, and a blush appeared on her pale heart-shaped cheeks. In her ck eyes that stared at Bryan, there was a bright light of excitement.

    "Oh, of course you don''t. This is a top secret. Even in the Ministry, only a few senior officials know about it. Of course, we Aurors often know some secrets that are not known to others because of our work needs, but Bryan, I can''t tell outsiders. This is top secret¨C"

    "Since that''s the case," Bryan interrupted her politely.

    "But you''re not an ordinary wizard, are you?" Tonks leaned in closer, ignoring his words. "You have the Order of Merlin. By the way, that''s really amazing, Bryan. Except for dying in the line of duty, I don''t see any chance of getting an Order of Merlin in my lifetime. That was because you helped Dumbledore solve that annoying Chamber of Secrets of Slytherinst year. I dare say he must trust you very much!"

    ''Maybe'' Bryan thought so, but when he spoke, he said¨C"Yes, I am Dumbledore''s most trusted person!" He hoped that his lie would make Tonks stop talking nonsense.

    "Since that''s the case!" Tonks nced at the door and made sure no one came in before saying enthusiastically, "It doesn''t matter if I tell you then. Dumbledore will tell you sooner orter anyway!"

    ''He will?'' Bryan thought again. He doubted that Dumbledore would ever tell him such a sensitive information.

    "This is a bitplicated, Bryan. I have something important to do and can''t tell you in detail. Basically, it''s like this: The boy''s parents are James and Lily Potter. They were friends with ck when they were at Hogwarts. Back then, when Voldemort was hunting them down mercilessly, Dumbledore suggested using the Fidelius Charm to hide their location and act as their Secret-Keeper himself. But the Potters disagreed. They thought ck was more trustworthy than anyone else."

    Bryan''s expression changed subtly. He felt a chill run down his spine.

    "So you''re saying that after ck became the Potters'' Secret-Keeper, he betrayed them and joined Voldemort?"

    "That''s exactly what happened, Bryan!"

    Tonks said solemnly.

    "Everyone knows what happened next. Voldemort found the Potters and killed them in cold blood. And just when he was about to kill little Potter, the baby who was destined to be his nemesis, somehow his magic failed and he died. Or so it seemed. Some people even think he was severely injured and fled in disgrace, hiding in the shadows for years.

    Anyway, that despicable ck lost everything overnight. He couldn''t believe that Voldemort, the Dark Lord he worshipped and followed, would be defeated by a mere infant. When the news came out, he ran to the Potter''s house to confirm the situation with his own eyes. When he found out that it was true, that his friends were dead and their son had survived, he chose to run away to avoid trial.

    But then ck was caught up by another friend of the Potters, a short and chubby guy named Peter. Peter had been loyal to the Potters until the end, and he had probably suspected ck''s betrayal. He cornered ck on a crowded Muggle street and tried to avenge the Potters. Oh, he was a hero, but he was no match for ck. He was killed by a powerful dark magic spell by ck, along with thirteen innocent Muggles who happened to be there. The hero''s mother only got a finger of her son and an Order of Merlin First ss in exchange for his life. And ck"

    Ding dong¨C Mrs. Rosmerta, who had finished checking the goods, pushed open the door of her pub. A few local residents used magic to control oak barrels and floated them into the shop. They followed thendy and wanted to send these aged wines to the underground cer.

    Tonks was not really a silly girl. She didn''t tell Bryan these things just because they had ''worked together''. She really thought that Bryan, who had been nominated by the Minister of Magic himself for an Order of Merlin Second ss, was ''one of us''. When she saw strangers breaking into their private conversation space, she closed her mouth vigntly.

    ''Potters and Dwarf Peter''

    While Tonks was on guard against those vigers, Bryan narrowed his eyes and his expression became inscrutable.

    Lupin''s words suddenly popped into Bryan'' mind, making his breath lighter.

    ''He killed three of my friends. Very good friends. I have to kill him myself.''

    So that''s the truth. Bryan tapped his fingers on the table lightly, feeling enlightened. No wonder Lupin hated ck so much that he even asked Bryan to hand him over to him if he really caught him. So it seems that if it weren''t for ck''s betrayal, Harry''s parents, James and Lily Potter, might not have died. Although it was Voldemort who killed them with his killing curse, in fact, Harry''s real enemy was ck.

    ''Potter must not know about this, right?''

    Bryan had this question in his mind, but soon he thought of the answer.

    From what he knew about Potter, if he knew that his parents died because of their closest friend''s betrayal, he would probably drop out of school and run out to ''hunt down'' ck. He would not care about the danger or the consequences. He would only want revenge.

    But that man really deserves to die.

    Bryan''s eyes with a hint of purple became deeper. Dumbledore has always been the eternal me in the hearts of those wizards who fight against Voldemort, but the Potters would rather let ck be their secret-keeper than Dumbledore. You can imagine how much they trust this friend, and you can also imagine how much they regret when they fall!

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 0153 Conversation

    0153 Conversation

    It took about ten minutes for the residents of Hogsmeade, the only all-wizarding vige in Britain, to transport all the barrels of wine from the carriage to the underground cer of the Three Broomsticks, the most popr pub in town. After receiving their wages, they did not leave, but asked Mrs. Rosmerta, the buxom and cheerfulndy, for some drinks and chatted in the bar. The atmosphere was lively and cozy, withughter and gossip filling the air.

    In such an environment, it was not very appropriate to discuss ck and his crimes, so Tonks and Bryan talked about the Basilisk that was donated to the Ministry of Magic. ording to Tonks, some young and reckless people in the Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures tried to make the Basilisk more docile, but they almost died under its venomous fangs. Fudge, the bumbling and ipetent Minister of Magic, was scared out of his wits by this incident, so he ordered the Aurors to stun the Basilisk until it was handed over to Newt Scamander, a famous magizoologist and author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

    Hearing this, Bryan showed a wry smile.

    The Basilisk was fine in the Chamber of Secrets, but after being taken out, it was first blinded by Dumbledore''s phoenix, Fawkes, then taught a lesson by Bryan''s fire magic. He thought it could have a few peaceful days as a ''protected animal'' after being transferred to the Ministry of Magic, but it was tortured by the Ministry again.

    Now, the sun had risen to a conspicuous height, and the temperature in the air rose rapidly, making people feel a bit hot. The windows of the pub were open, letting in some fresh breeze and sunlight.

    Bang!

    Just as Bryan was about to ask Tonks when the Ministry nned to get the Basilisk back from Scamander, there was a crisp sound of apparition on the street outside the window. Apparition was a magical form of transportation that allowed one to disappear from one ce and reappear in another ce.

    When the dust settled, a tall bald dark-brown-skinned wizard appeared in their wary eyes. He wore a long purple cloak over his ck robes and had a gold earring on his left ear. He looked around with a serious expression on his face.

    "Oh, no!"

    Seeing the face of the visitor, Tonks immediately panicked. She almost knocked over the table when she got up,

    "Damn it, I''m in trouble, Bryan. I was so busy chatting with you that I forgot about my shift. There goes my bonus for next month!"

    She said in a low voice as she grabbed her wand and cloak. She was supposed to be on duty at Hogsmeade station, guarding against any possible attack from Sirius ck, who had escaped from Azkaban prison a few months ago.

    "Hello, Mr. Watson. It''s an honor to meet you. Of course, you may not have heard of me. I''m Kingsley Shacklebolt. I work in the Auror Office-"

    It''s always good to have a respectable identity on the surface. Bryan was not an official of the Ministry of Magic, but he had a Order of Merlin Second ss medal that many old Aurors who had fought against evil for a lifetime could not get. He was definitely a respectable person in the wizarding world. Apart from high-ranking officials like Fudge or Dumbledore, most officials had to respect the rights of an Order of Merlin medal holder. Besides, Bryan had been a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a while, which was also a very respected position.

    ''Not only heard of you, but also beat you up personally''

    Bryan smiled and shook Kingsley''s hand with a polite expression on his face.

    "Hello, Mr. Shacklebolt,"

    For polite people, Bryan did not mind talking more with them. He shook Kingsley''s hand twice and nodded,

    "I wouldn''t say ''never heard of''. Mr. Shacklebolt, Tonks just told me some things about you. She said you were her mentor and taught her a lot of Auror skills that benefited her greatly-"

    "Yes, I thought she had grown a lot-"

    Kingsley nced at Tonks who blinked innocently at him and said in a calm voice without any emotion. His voice had a deep and soothing quality that made him sound trustworthy and authoritative.

    "But now it seems that she still has a lot to learn. Do you know what I was thinking on my way here, Tonks?"

    "Um¡­ because you stayed upte patrolling and slept in? Don''t make that face, Kingsley,"

    Tonks muttered, "It''s only half an hourte. You know how it is when old ssmates meet. We can''t help but chat more!" She tried to make an excuse, but she knew Kingsley was not easily fooled.

    "I was wondering if you had already encountered Sirius ck and I would hear a bad news when I walked into Hogsmeade."

    Kingsley raised his chin slightly and said in a deep voice without any emotion. The gold earring on his ear sparkled under the sun. He looked at Tonks with a stern gaze, making her feel guilty and nervous.

    Looking at Tonks who was a bit embarrassed, Bryan smiled sympathetically and decided to intervene and help her out.

    "You don''t have to scold her too much, Mr. Shacklebolt. As Tonks said, it was me who dyed her work. If that caused you any trouble, I can apologize."

    Bryan''s gentle and humble attitude surprised Kingsley and made him feel more favorable towards him. He thought that a young wizard who had great skills and won an Order of Merlin Second ss medal that even veteran Aurors could not get would be proud if not arrogant. But now it seemed that this person was more courteous and respectful than he expected.

    He rxed his stern expression and nodded slightly, epting Bryan''s apology. He thought that maybe he had been too harsh on Tonks. After all, she was still a rookie and needed some guidance and encouragement.

    When both sides felt some recognition for each other, the atmosphere of chatting became much more rxed. They decided to sit down again and have another drink before leaving. Just like muggles in London love to talk about the weather, wizards in the wizarding world can always have a pleasant conversation when they are not too familiar with each other by talking about Hogwarts. It was amon ground for most British wizards, as they had spent their childhood and adolescence there, learning magic and making friends.

    Both Tonks and Kingsley had left school for some years and did not know as much about Hogwarts as Bryan, so most of the time it was him who was talking and they who were listening. He told them about the current situation of the professors who worked at Hogwarts, the changes in the curriculum and the facilities, and thetest news about the students.

    "When I was at Hogwarts, the head of Slytherin was Professor Horace Slughorn. He was a very interesting old man. Even after retiring for many years, many Slytherin graduates who work in the Ministry still keep in touch with him."

    Kingsley was Bryan''s senior, which undoubtedly made theirmunication smoother. After Bryan finished talking about Snape, Kingsley also told Bryan about the previous head of Slytherin before Snape.

    "Sorry, Mr. Watson, we have to leave now-"

    The end of the pleasant conversation came. Kingsley nced at the sun and nodded to Bryan calmly, without holding Tonks''s small mistake against her. He appreciated Bryan''s hospitality and friendliness, and hoped to see him again soon.

    "I''ll probably stay in Grimmauld ce for a while. If you decide to stay in Hogsmeade, when Ie back, we can go to the Hog''s Head and have a drink. I prefer the firewhisky there!"

    Before leaving, Tonks smiled happily and waved goodbye to Bryan. She thanked him for hispany and his help, and invited him to visit her sometime.

    "Grimmauld ce?"

    Bryan blinked and asked subconsciously, "Where is that?"

    "A rundown neighborhood in northwest London. That''s where - Oh!"

    Tonks quickly nced at her boss and continued when she saw that he was not angry with her for leaking secrets,

    "ck''s old house. We think this despicable criminal might want to go home and have a look, so we''ve been watching there. Of course, if ck really went back, we might not know."

    It was reasonable to assume that after spending twelve years in prison at Azkaban, the most secure and dreadful prison in the wizarding world, guarded by soul-sucking creatures called Dementors, he might want to go home and have a look after he ''got out''. Bryan was not surprised that the Aurors would do that, but¡­

    "Not know?" Bryan asked curiously, "But you have a bunch of people watching there, don''t you?"

    "That house is not simple, Bryan,"

    Tonks took out her wand and prepared to apparate. She said mysteriously,

    "That''s the ancestral home of the ck family. It''s protected by many ancient and powerful magics. We can only watch from the outside and can''t see the exact location of the house. So even if ck is hiding there right now, we can''t do anything about it."

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 0154 Idea

    0154 Idea

    He had an idea. A persistent idea that had been haunting him for a while.

    He wanted to find a house for himself, a ce where he could settle down and end his years of wandering. Ever since the new dormitory of the orphanage was built, he felt that he had somewhat fulfilled his duty to the children who had no one else to rely on. With the orphanage having some social support and the children having some survival skills, he felt that it was time for him to pursue his own happiness.

    After all the drama he had gone through, he valued stability and peace very much.

    To be honest, Hogsmeade was not Bryan''s ideal ce to live. The buildings here were too crowded, too close to each other, and too close to Hogwarts. He didn''t like the noise or the constant presence of the professors of Hogwarts. He preferred a more secluded and quiet environment, where he could conduct his magical experiments and research without any interference.

    Of course, settling in the Muggle world was not a good choice either, because there were too many Muggles, which would make it inconvenient and risky to use magic.

    The best option was to settle in a vige where most of the residents were wizards. That way, he wouldn''t have to be restrained by anything.

    Currently, in Britain, Hogsmeade is the only pure wizarding vige, but there are also many viges and hamlets that have sizeable wizarding poptions, such as Tinworth in Cornwall, Upper gley in Yorkshire, Ottery St Catchpole and Godric''s Hollow in the West Country, and so on.

    During the summer vacation, Bryan also took some time to think about this problem. He decided that after catching Sirius ck, he would take thatrge sum of galleons and visit these viges to find a quiet andfortable mansion as his future home.

    Bryan stood in a narrow and dim living room, his eyes swept over the slightly moldy silver-green wallpaper on the four walls, wrinkled his nose, and looked a bit dissatisfied.

    He remembered that thest time he rented a house outside was after he graduated from college in his previous life. During those years when he was a corporate ve, Bryan had lived with a young couple who always argued loudly and a middle-aged uncle who only came out of his room once every three or four months.

    This house was rented with the help of Mrs. Rosmerta, thendy of the Three Broomsticks pub. There was no such role as a real estate agent in the wizarding world. Bryan, who was not very familiar with the situation, had to seek help from the locals.

    The original owner of the house was a forty-something bachelor who made a living by delivering vegetables and ingredients to Hogwart''s kitchen. This was not a rare thing. Most of the vigers relied on Hogwarts to support their families. When Bryan asked why he wanted to rent out his house, the bearded bachelor answered casually,

    "I''m going on vacation, sir. I''ve been living in this vige for many years. It''s time to change my living environment. Maybe I''ll meet love unexpectedly on my journey!"

    The old bachelor said so to Bryan, but turned around and muttered under his breath,

    "Oh, I''ve had enough of those dementors who patrol the vige every day and break into my house every now and then. Unless they get out of here, I''ll nevere back!"

    Because the original owner lived alone and worked as a deliveryman, the house was not very clean and sanitary. Even the bedroom was filled with a strong mixture of cabbage, potato and carrot smell that made Bryan want to gag.

    Of course, Bryan had nothing toin about. After all, the rent for this house was only a little over one hundred galleons a year, which was quite cheappared to other ces.

    "By the way, I forgot to tell you one thing,"

    The owner picked up his suitcase and couldn''t wait to leave the house. He turned back and said solemnly to Bryan,

    "This house is not allowed to sublet, sir. I don''t want toe back one day and find that my warm and cozy home has be someone''s warehouse or workshop. Also, this house is my ancestral home. It has been passed down for generations in my family. I hope you can take good care of it when you live here!"

    How could he not take care of it? Bryan walked into the bedroom and looked at the crack on the earthen wall opposite the bed that barely let any light in.

    He didn''t dare to rely entirely on magic when he cleaned up the house before. He was afraid that after a ''clean sweep'', the house would be irreparable. He was not a perfectionist, but he liked to have some order and cleanliness in his living space. He used a broom to sweep away the dust and cobwebs, a rag to wipe the windows and furniture, and a bucket of water to wash the floor and walls. He also used some minor spells to get rid of the mold and the unpleasant smell, but he didn''t overdo it.

    Because the house was not facing north or south, it became very dark after the sun set. Bryan walked to the bedroom window and opened it. The wind that came in was mixed with heavy moisture. He looked at the sky and saw arge patch of gloomy ck clouds rolling in from the southeast under the wind. He could foresee that a heavy rain was about to fall. He could hear the distant rumble of thunder and see the asional sh of lightning. He knew that this was not a good sign for his first night in Hogsmeade.

    Bryan didn''t want to be a wet owl on his first night of staying here. Before the rain clouds arrived, he wandered around the house and plugged up all the cracks on the roof and walls with some sealing paste that he bought from Diagon Alley. He also cast some waterproof charms on the windows and doors, just in case. When he returned to his bedroom and prepared to take out his travel sleeping bag from his suitcase, there was a sudden tremor in the sky. With a loud thunder, the downpour finally came.

    The dazzling lightning that asionally cut through the sky made the Hogwarts castle not far away even darker. Bryan stood by the window, staring at the direction of the school entrance, and suddenly felt a strange desire in his heart. He had this desire before, but Bryan didn''t expect it to be so strong.

    "This rain is a good cover. Why not take the opportunity to get a dementor back for research? My Patronus Charm hasn''t worked yet."

    Bryan muttered, but after hesitating for a while, he gave up this idea. There were too many dementors around Hogwarts right now, and tonight was the start-of-term feast. Bryan was not Gilderoy Lockhart. He didn''t want to be on the front page of tomorrow''s Daily Prophet as a madman who tried to kidnap a dementor.

    Suddenly, a gray owl stretched its wings and circled over Hogsmeade, which looked like a medieval vige under the rain. It seemed to be looking for something. After a while, it found its direction. A sharp dive, and it stopped on the window of Bryan''s house in the blink of an eye.

    "Good job, little guy¨C"

    Bryan touched the owl''s head gently. When his palm left, the owl''s wet feathers were already dry and warm.

    "I cast a waterproof charm on you. This will keep your feathers from getting wet by the rain on your way back."

    The owl tilted its head and looked at Bryan nkly, not understanding what the wizard was saying.

    "Go ahead¨C" Bryan said with a smile.

    After the owl disappeared into the oppressive stratus clouds again, Bryan closed the window and lit the candlestick on the wall. Under the flickering candlelight, he unfolded the parchment in his hand.

    Remus Lupin.

    This was the name of the sender at the end of the letter. Bryan was used to knowing who the letter was from before reading it.

    ''Did he find out?''

    Bryan''s eyes shook for a moment, and eagerly looked at the words written in fine handwriting.

    The content of the letter was very short, and had nothing to do with Sirius ck, but it still made him frown slightly.

    "In the samepartment with Harry Potter, met dementors checking halfway, no one was hurt, but many people were scared. Harry fainted."

    After destroying the letter with a simple incineration spell, Bryan shook his head and chuckled softly,

    "The Chosen One always has some stories wherever he goes. Well idents¨C"

    Dinner was simple, just a bunch of fried potato slices and a few roasted sausages that he bought from Mrs Rosmerta''s pub earlier. Bryan sat in the dining room, facing his shadow on the wall cast by the candlelight, quietly enjoying the tranquility of being alone. By the way, he also thought about how to catch Sirius ck.

    There was no good way to do this. There were not only one smart person in the wizarding world. If there really was a way to catch ck immediately, the Aurors would have done it already.

    At present, it was generally believed that ck would sneak up to Hogwarts and try to kill Harry Potter in school. But no one could say for sure how ck would do it or when he would do it.

    Bryan had some ideas, but they were not very reliable. He thought that maybe he could use some tracking spells or devices to locate ck, or maybe he could use some bait or traps to lure him out. But he knew that these methods were risky and uncertain. He needed more information and clues before he could act.

    Before today, Bryan could only wait passively for Sirius to expose himself in an assassination attempt. He had no idea where ck was hiding or what he was nning. He felt frustrated and helpless. But after meeting Tonks this morning and learning about ck''s rtionship with the Potters from her mouth, as well as that the Aurors were not only guarding against Sirius sneaking into Hogsmeade but also squatting outside his old house, Bryan suddenly had an idea.

    "Why not go to where the Potters were killed and see if there are any clues."

    Bryan chewed on his sausage and said vaguely, with a bit of sauce dripping from the corner of his mouth.

    "Maybe criminal psychology will work. It''s better than waiting."

    He thought that maybe ck had some emotional attachment to the ce where his ''Master'' died. Maybe he would visit there asionally to mourn or to seek revenge. Maybe he would leave some traces or clues behind.

    *******************************

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0155 Potterâ€™s Old House

    0155 Potter¡¯s Old House

    Bryan had known very early on where the old house of the Potter family was located, which was not surprising, considering that this was almost a well-known fact in the wizarding world.

    He remembered that when he got admission letter for Hogwarts, eager to learn more about this mysterious world hidden from the Muggles, he had bought a book that had just updated its content, "Important Magical Events of the 20th Century". The book narrated the ''detailed'' process of how the ''Boy Who Lived'' had defeated the invincible Dark Lord with a single touch of his forehead.

    As Bryan gradually learned more about the magical world, he realized that most of the exaggerated records in the book werepiled to highlight the mystery and heroism of the parties involved, but the location of the Potter''s old house mentioned in it was still true.

    Godric''s Hollow - the birthce of one of the four great founders of Hogwarts, Godric Gryffindor. It was located in the southwest of Ennd, in a vast basin surrounded by rolling hills. Manyrge and small human viges were scattered inside, most of which were inhabited by both Muggles and wizards, and only a few small and pitiful viges were pure wizarding settlements.

    Bryan got off the Muggle bus - he did not choose to take the Knight Bus, which he had tried once before and almost vomited out his bile. Since then, he had developed a psychological trauma towards the thing that Dugald McPhail invented ''ingeniously'', which was nothing but a purple nightmare on wheels.

    He couldn''t apparate either, because Bryan had never been to Godric''s Hollow before. The Floo Network was a long-distance travel method that Bryan could ept, but unfortunately, he didn''t have any acquaintances here, and there was no public firece in Godric''s Hollow.

    After considering various travel methods, Bryan still took the Hogwarts Express back to London and used Muggle methods to get to the peaceful vige on the southwest border.

    As soon as he set foot on this legendary historical vige, his eyes swept over the clean and tidy streets and the neat houses on both sides of the street. He saw Muggles walking their dogs, chatting with their neighbors, or shopping at the local market. He also saw wizards wearing cloaks or hats, exchanging nods or whispers with each other, or disappearing into hidden alleys or shops. At that moment, Bryan ruled out Godric''s Hollow as a possible ce to settle down in the future. The reason was simple. The proportion of Muggle vigers living here was much higher than he had imagined. If he settled here, he might as well buy a house in the suburbs of London, where he could at least enjoy some modern conveniences.

    Bryan walked forward in Muggle clothes. He wore a pair of jeans, a leather jacket, and a pair of sunsses. He blended in with the crowd easily, attracting no attention from either side. After a few minutes, he saw the war memorial standing in the center of the vige square.

    It was a tall and solemn stone monument thatmemorated the lives lost in both Muggle and wizarding wars. When Bryan stood under the obelisk, he felt that it changed silently when it sensed a wizard approaching. It turned into a statue of three people - James and Lily Potter holding their baby son Harry in their arms. They looked happy and loving, unaware of the tragedy that would soon befall them.

    Bryan looked at the statue silently for a while, shook his head slightly, and sighed softly,

    "War¨C"

    It was a word that carried too much pain and sorrow for both worlds.

    There were still some ces worth visiting in this vige, such as the graveyard where many famous wizards were buried, or the house where Bathilda Bagshot lived, but Bryan didn''t waste time because of it. He came here with a purpose.

    After asking a local wizard about the exact location of the Potter''s old house, Bryan quickened his pace towards his destination. He followed the directions given by the friendly old man who ran a small bookstore near the square. He turned left at the corner, crossed a bridge over a stream, passed by a church and a graveyard, and finally reached a narrow street that led to a dead end. Five minutester, he stood at the end of this journey.

    It was a two-story building painted with pure white paint.It looked like an ordinary Muggle house from outside, except for one thing. The right wall of the top floor room waspletely blown open by a powerful curse. Through the hole, Bryan could see that there were piles of rubble and dust in that bedroom, where Harry Potter had miraculously survived and Voldemort had met his downfall.

    There was a small yard in front of the building that was not veryrge and full of weeds. Because no one took care of it for years, the fence around the yard was already messy and broken. Even vines climbed all over the entrance gate, forming a natural barrier.

    "Will youe back here to pay homage to your old master and see what happened to your former friend?"

    Bryan muttered as he stared at the dpidated building. He pushed aside the green vines blocking his way and stepped into the yard. The moment he did so, he felt traces of magic in the air. He carefully sensed the fluctuations of magic and realized that the Ministry of Magic had cast some kind of repelling curse around the house, preventing curious visitors from entering or disturbing it. It also should be to prevent Muggles and those homeless wild animals.

    There were many traces of trampling on the knee-high weeds andtles in the yard, indicating that many people had visited this ce before. On the soft ground, various footprints ovepped each other, forming a chaotic pattern.

    Bryan squatted down and studied them for a while. He noticed that some of them wererger and heavier than others, suggesting that they belonged to Muggles who wore boots or shoes. He also saw some smaller and lighter ones, which he guessed were from wizards who wore robes and slippers. He thought for a moment and had an urate judgment - most of the visitors were Muggles who came to see the ''war memorial'', while only a few were wizards who came to pay tribute to the Potters.

    He walked towards the house, the one that used to be warm and cozy, but today was already decayed and withered. He stepped on the stairs that creaked under his weight and stood in front of the rusty iron door.

    Out of respect, those who came to honor the Potters should not have broken into the house. What made Bryan guess this way was the door handle on the iron door that hadpletely rusted. It looked like it had not been touched for a long time.

    Bryan didn''t break into the house right away, but turned his head and looked at a small piece of wastnd a few steps away from the right side of the stairs, under a broken window sill. There, Bryan ''saw'' a twisted mass of condensed magic. It was like a knot of invisible threads that tangled together. This phenomenon meant that that piece of wastnd had magic in it - magic that was triggered by something.

    Following the magic thread drawn from the twisted magic, Bryan''s eyes fell back on the rusted door handle. He thought for a while, and his palm slid over the pocket of his jeans. A ebony wand appeared in his palm. It was smooth and cold.

    Dong Dong-

    Bryan knocked on the door handle with his wand, making a dull sound. The wastnd under the window sill immediately changed Like some kind of strange and fast-growing flower, arge wooden sign grew out of the soil, followed by a white marble flower stand. Thisrge flower stand was filled with flowers brought by the wizards who came to pay tribute - roses, lilies, orchids, sunflowers, and many more. They were colorful and fragrant, almost drowning the sign engraved with gold letters.

    This house, invisible to Muggles, stands as a memorial to Lily and James Potter, who died here on October 31, 1981.

    Their son Harry was the only one who survived the killing curse that killed them. He became the Boy Who Lived and the hope of the wizarding world.

    This ruin reminds us of the sacrifice they made and the horror they faced.

    Bryan nced over the neat handwriting, reading the messages of various styles and messy handwriting on the sign. Some were simple condolences, some were heartfelt thanks, some were expressions of admiration or curiosity. Unconsciously, a smile appeared on his lips,

    "Potter has always lived in his aunt''s house and probably never returned to where he was born. I wonder what he would think if he saw these blessings."

    A warm breeze brushed his cheek, lifting the strands of gray hair that covered his forehead. Bryan lowered his eyelids, restrained his smile, and his eyes became deep,

    "The fate of being destined to be a hero is very heavy, Potter. I don''t know if you can bear it¨C"

    In the first half of the year, Bryan stayed at Hogwarts for more than three months. This not long and not short period of time still allowed Bryan to see through some things.

    On the surface, Dumbledore seemed to have no special care for Potter, but Bryan could perceive that this old wizard with a bellyful of thoughts cared more about Harry than any other young wizard in the school. He treated him as more than just a student or a weapon against Voldemort.

    On the night when the Chamber of Secrets incident ended, he and Dumbledore were about to explore the passage behind the Slytherin statue together, they had a small argument about Harry''s participation in it.

    Dumbledore almost instinctively refused to let Harry participate in the exploration. He thought it was too dangerous for him, while Bryan believed that young people needed more opportunities to learn from experience. But actually, did Dumbledore, who had lived so long could not see this simple truth?

    Of course he could, but his affection for Harry clouded his judgment.

    If he always had this attitude towards cultivating Harry, hoping that he could shoulder the responsibility of defeating Voldemort in the future - then Bryan didn''t think highly of this kind of education method.

    It was because of this disapproval that some time ago, during the summer vacation, he agreed to Harry''s request to take him to the underworld for a stroll. The underworld was a hidden and dangerous ce in the magical world, where many dark and illegal activities took ce. The purpose was to let Harry, who was well protected by Dumbledore, see the dark side of the magical world with his own eyes and temper his mind.

    Bryan wanted Harry to be aware of the threats and enemies that lurked in the shadows, to be prepared for the worst scenarios, to be brave and cunning.

    It''s not that Bryan wanted to interfere with Harry''s growth, but he wanted to increase their chances of winning. If it was true that defeating Voldemort was the mission that this world imposed on Harry Potter - then Bryan would have to help him achieve it.

    After all, a rtively stable and orderly magical world was also what he pursued.

    *******************************

    For More Chapters: /FicFrenzy

    Author''s Note: Iam Sorry, The draft chapters were exchanged when i was sick and i didnot pay attention while uploading that at the time. The chapter named ck''s attack was a future chapter about 5-6 chapter ahead.

 0156 Cradle of the Chosen

    0156 Cradle of the Chosen

    "I''m sorry, please forgive me for being rude,"

    Bryan said apologetically as he stood at the threshold of the ruined house.

    "After all, this is also for your child Harry Potter¨C"

    He lowered his head respectfully as he spoke to the ce where Lily and James Potter had once lived. Although he had been unaware of the existence of the wizarding world when they were killed by Voldemort twelve years ago, he still felt a deep admiration for these brave wizards who had sacrificed their lives for their son and their cause.

    Bryan used his wand to remove the entire iron door that blocked his entrance and levitated it gently into the yard. The door waspletely rusted from years of neglect; not only were the bolts hidden behind it corroded beyond repair, but also the hinges that connected it to the door frame were barely holding together.

    The scene behind the door matched what Bryan had expected to find: a house frozen in time, untouched by anyone since that fateful night. The hall, dining room, living room and all the furnishings within his sight were covered with a thickyer of white ash that had settled from the explosion of Voldemort''s curse. In the dimly lit room, the air was silent and stale, filled with a rotten smell that betrayed the decay of the wooden structure.

    The floor in the house was made of wood, and it had suffered the most from the passage of time. The dust on the surface obscured its original color, but Bryan could see the traces of corrosion and wormholes that had eaten away at the nks. He wondered if the floor could support his weight, or if he would cause the whole house to copse in a domino effect if he stepped on it.

    He decided not to take any chances and waved his wand again, making himself float up in the air and controlling his body to move slowly forward.

    But everything he saw was gray and dull, and there was no sign of anything valuable or interesting. Bryan only lingered in the dining room for a while, examining the furniture and objects that had been damaged by the duel that had taken ce there.

    One side of the duel was James Potter, Harry''s father and a talented Auror. The other side was Voldemort, the most evil Dark Lord in history. The oue of the duel was obvious, but Bryan wanted to know more about how it had unfolded.

    The damage caused by the duel was not too extensive. Bryan noticed a few ck holes on the wall and a radially cracked floor where spells had hit. He tried to reconstruct the scene of the duel in his mind, based on the evidence before him.

    "¨CA duel that differed by many levels. James Potter probably released two or three spells, but they were blocked by Voldemort''s shield and bounced back to the floor and wall. Strange,"

    Bryan muttered to himself. "Even if James Potter''s skills are simr to Lupin''s, in that situation, he should have been hysterical and unleashed more powerful spells that would have caused more damage to the room. But-Oh!, I see, Voldemort must have been very murderous at that time. He unleashed powerful dark magic that destabilized the magic in this area. Ordinary wizards might have been unable to cast even a simple levitation spell under that circumstance."

    Bryan knew from his own experience that There were many factors that could determine the oue of a duel between wizards below the ''Grand Magus'' level, such as dueling skills, the power and versatility of the spells they mastered, and even luck could y a key role. But when one''s strength got closer to that limit, individual magic became more important, and the effect of spells was diminished. Because for wizards at this level, any offensive spell could be lethal to their opponents. For example, Bryan himself, if he wanted to do so, he could easily make a stunning spell fatal.

    So it was absurd to expect to deal with wizards like Albus Dumbledore by relying on numbers and sneak attacks.

    "¨CPurely interfering with the environment with magic and thoughts, making wizards in a certain area unable to use normal standard spells is not impossible, but it is more deterrent than practical."

    After briefly specting on Voldemort''s strength in his mind, Bryan''s expression became slightly solemn. With his current ability, he would not have a problem to fight a short-term high-intensity duel with Dumbledore or Voldemort. Even because of his physical advantage brought by his age, he might not necessarily be at a disadvantage. But once he couldn''t finish the fight quickly and then flee immediately, he would be very passive for him. Because he had not yet reached that ''limit'' that separated the ordinary from the extraordinary.

    Bryan carefully checked the first floor of the house, but the result made him feel disappointed. Because he didn''t find anything wrong or unusual. He scanned the surroundings carefully, looking for any signs of intrusion or tampering. He had expected to find some traces of other wizards who had visited the house over the years, either out of curiosity or reverence. But to his surprise, he found none. From the thickyer of dust and ash that covered everything, he deduced that no one had entered here for more than ten years.

    After confirming this point, Bryan turned his attention to the shaky stairs that led to the second floor. He didn''t want to risk breaking them with his weight, so he floated up along them like a ghost, using his wand to control his movement. He hoped to find something more interesting upstairs, where the final confrontation between Voldemort and the Potters had taken ce.

    There were three bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor of the old house. Two of them had closed doors that looked untouched by time. The door panels were corroded by rust and the paint was peeling off in kes.

    Only one bedroom door was open wide. That was the one that Bryan had spotted from outside before. Half of its wall had been sted away by a powerful curse that left a gaping hole.

    After a brief silence, Bryan moved towards that room. He held his breath unconsciously as he approached those strands of light that shone silvery-white under sunlight exposure . The next second, he moved forward another two feet, and then turned around abruptly.

    The moment everything in this room filled with rubble and tiles came into his view, Bryan''s slightly tensed shoulders rxed, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

    "Still left some ws, right¨C"

    In the ruined room, there was a pile of rubble about five feet high stacked on a copsed bed. It was the remains of the crib where Harry Potter had slept as a baby, where he had received his famous lightning-shaped scar from Voldemort''s curse. The crib had been blown apart by the force of the explosion, along with most of the wall behind it. Because of being exposed to the wind and sun, the rest of the furnishings in the room had also be rotten garbage.

    Only at the head of the bed, a broken photo frame that had fallen from the wall still maintained a rtively intact shape. What made Bryan happy was not the photo frame with faded photos of Lily and James Potter smiling happily with their son, but the bunch of dried flowers that had almost lost all their moisture in front of the photo frame, and a string of footprints in front of the photo frame, a string of footprints that continued to the big hole in the room.

    All the wizards who came to pay tribute to the Potters over the years had left their flowers on the wooden sign and flower stand specially prepared by the Ministry of Magic outside the house. They had respected the privacy and sanctity of this ce, and had not dared to enter without permission. But there was one person who had unexpectedly entered the room and ced a bunch of flowers in front of the Potter''s family portrait.

    "Hiss, something is wrong¨C"

    Having finally found some clues, Bryan''s mood was undoubtedly ted. He stared at the yellowed white lily without getting any closer. A sense of unease suddenly rose in his heart.

    "ck," he muttered under his breath. "Isn''t he the traitor who caused the death of the Potters? Why would he do this? Could it be that he was regretting his previous betrayal?

    Oh, I see.

    This is where Voldemort met his downfall. So he was mourning his master."

    Bryan''s frowning brows stretched out, proud of his own wit. He nced around the room, his eyes stayed on the pile of rubble on the bed for a few seconds, and confirmed that there were no traps or curses hidden among them. Then he floated into the room and stopped in front of the photo frame.

    Because it was exposed to the outside, there was much less dust on the floor in the room than on the first floor. It was only a thinyer that barely covered its original color. When his eyes fell on the broken ss covering the blurred photo, Bryan''s brow furrowed again unconsciously. He raised his head again and looked around everything in the room. After a while, he bent down and fiddled with a few pieces of rubble on the bed.

    "Very dry, it hasn''t rained here recently¨C"

    Bryan stared at the dust in his palm without a trace of moisture, his expression bing serious.

    "Then."

    He lowered his head and looked at the dried water droplets on the blocky broken ss covered with a thinyer of dust. They were scattered radially, as if they had been sshed by some liquid. He narrowed his eyes and realized what they were.

    "Tears have flowed. This is not right."

    *******************************

    For More Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0157 Tears?

    0157 Tears?

    ''Are you crying because of Voldemort''s failure?''

    Bryan thought sarcastically as he looked at the dried tear marks on the broken ss. He found it hard to believe that Sirius ck, the notorious traitor who had betrayed his best friends to Voldemort, would shed tears for his fallen master. He had heard enough stories about ck and his fellow Death Eaters to know what kind of ruthless and cruel people they were. They had followed Voldemort out of fear, greed, or twisted ideology, not out of genuine loyalty or affection.

    Sirius ck¨Cthe one who was called the number one henchman of the Dark Lord, who betrayed the Potters for Voldemort''s loyalty, and even ruthlessly turned his other friend Peter Pettigrew into ashes without mercy. He had been captured and sent to Azkaban, the most dreadful prison in the wizarding world, where he had been tormented by Dementors for twelve years. He had escaped from there a few months ago, and had been on the run ever since, pursued by Aurors and bounty hunters alike.

    Bryan had no doubt that ck was a guy with a heart of iron, and he was absolutely loyal to Voldemort.

    But because of this, he didn''t believe he would shed tears here, especially after being tortured by Dementors in Azkaban for twelve years. He should be a viin who was only one step away from madness. It''s understandable that he would bring a bunch of flowers to his old master, but why would he be sad and cry?

    ''Does such a guy still have sadness in his heart?''

    Bryan stood silently in the room full of ruins, frowning and falling into thought.

    ''Did I guess wrong?''

    He wondered if he had made a mistake in his deduction. Maybe Sirius''s goal was Harry from beginning to end. Maybe he never came to this ce. Maybe the bunch of flowers and tear marks in front of him were not left by ck, but by someone else.

    Judging from the degree of withering of this bunch of flowers, the person who left the footprints had been away for at least a month or so. In such a long time, all the magic traces in the air had naturally dissipated. Otherwise, Bryan would have some means to trace them using his wand and his skills.

    The breeze from the wilderness wandered on the crisscrossing streets of the vige. The weeds andtles growing in the yard swayed gently in the wind, making a rustling sound.

    A few petals of the withered lily in front of the picture frame also floated up in the air under the influence of this clear wind, spinning in front of Bryan, and then slowly falling down.

    Staring at these yellowish withered petals, Bryan''s brow moved slightly and had an idea. He decided to follow a hunch and see if he could find out more about the mysterious visitor who had left these flowers here.

    Five minutester, Bryan returned to the church he had passed by before. Behind the church was a cemetery. A row of tombstones with the same style were neatly arranged in the cemetery. Most of the tombstones had a few bunches of fresh or withered flowers in front of them.

    This cemetery was probably specially prepared for the wizards who lived in Godric''s Hollow. Bryan stood outside the cemetery and nced at the engraved words on the nearest tombstones. He recognized some of them as belonging to famous or ancient wizarding families. He came to this conclusion based on his knowledge of wizarding history and culture.

    If nothing else, the Potters should also be buried here. However, Bryan did not step into the cemetery to look for them. His purpose foring back here was not to find their tombstones, but to look back at the direction to the left front of the church. There was a flower shop there.

    This small flower shop was full of white or yellow flowers that were often used for mourning. It looked old and quaint, blending in with the rest of the vige. When Bryan stood at the door of the shop, a fat woman in her fifties who was facing him was gently wiping the petals of a bunch of white roses. She wore a simple dress and an apron, and had a friendly smile on her face.

    ''This was a witch.''

    Bryan recognized her at a nce from her wand that was tucked behind her ear.

    "Hello, ma''am, what should I call you¨C"

    Hearing the greeting, the witch who was immersed in her own world came to her senses and realized that she had a customer in her small shop. She looked up and saw Bryan standing at the door, holding a bunch of lilies wrapped in an old newspaper. She smiled warmly and greeted him back.

    "Hello, sir, I''m Irie Tramon, the owner of this flower shop. How can I help you?"

    Bryan pretended to be a casual visitor and returned her smile. He pointed to a bunch of lilies with a gentle white color in the flower bucket behind the owner. They looked exactly like the ones he had seen in the Potter''s house.

    "Oh, that one? No problem, sir,"

    The fat flower shop owner moved surprisingly quickly. In less than two minutes, she trimmed the lily branches and leaves, wrapped them in an old newspaper, and handed them to Bryan.

    "Twenty pounds, sir¨C"

    Bryan raised his eyebrows and made a difficult look.

    "Sorry, Mrs. Tramon, I only have Galleons."

    Bryan lied as he took out a few gold coins from his pocket. He pretended to be a wizard who hade to the vige to pay his respects to the Potters.

    "Ah, you''re one of us."

    The flower shop owner who was just smiling politely suddenly realized that she had a fellow wizard in front of her. She quickly nced around to make sure that there was no one else nearby, and then lowered her voice and said,

    "You''re a wizard? Oh, sir, I have to say, your Muggle outfit is very professional. I didn''t recognize it at all."

    Bryan was wearing a simple shirt and jeans, which he had bought from a Muggle store.When he showed his wand to Mrs. Tramon as a proof of his identity, She was very enthusiastic and talked to Bryan.

    "¨COh, yes, that''s right. Many wizards buy flowers from me. Are you also here to pay tribute to the Potters?"

    Mrs. Tramon asked curiously as she took the Galleons from Bryan and handed him the lilies he had pointed at. She wrapped them in an old newspaper and tied them with a string. She seemed to be very friendly and talkative.

    "So it seems."

    Bryan nodded and sniffed the fragrance of the flowers. He smiled casually, but he was actually observing Mrs. Tramon''s expression and bodynguage. He wanted to see if she knew anything about the person who had bought the same flowers before him.

    "Many wizardse here to mourn them?"

    He asked innocently, hoping to get some information from her.

    "Of course, they are heroes. And their child defeated the Dark Lord and saved us from fear and despair."

    Mrs. Tramon said with a hint of respect and gratitude in her voice. She looked at Bryan with enthusiasm, as if she thought he was one of the Potter''s admirers.

    "Every year, on the day the Potters were killed, their birthdays, little Harry''s birthday, and even their wedding anniversary, there are many wizards whoe here from all over to mourn them. Thest group of people came here during the summer vacation, probably at the end of July. That seemed to be little Harry''s birthday. Oh, I heard a rumor that the viin ck escaped from Azkaban just to deal with him, but I think he will be safe and sound, right? Because Dumbledore is still at Hogwarts!"

    Mrs. Tramon said with a mixture of worry and confidence. She seemed to trust Dumbledore''s ability to protect Harry from any harm.

    "Of course, I agree with you."

    Bryan nodded with a smile, but he didn''t share her optimism. He knew that Dumbledore was not omnipotent, and that Harry was always in great danger from Voldemort and his followers.

    He just wanted to quickly find out who had left those flowers and tears in the Potter''s house. He decided to ask her more directly.

    "Do you remember who bought flowers from you to mourn the Potters before?"

    ''Strange question.''

    Mrs. Tramon thought so in her heart, but she didn''t care too much.

    Because in these years of running a flower shop here, she had encountered many strange questions from curious or nosy customers. Some foreign wizards even asked her if she had seen how little Harry defeated that terrible wizard whose name could not be mentioned thirteen years ago!

    ''Are you kidding me? How could she possibly know that?''

    She looked at Bryan with a puzzled expression and shook her head.

    "I can''t answer your question, sir¨C"

    The flower shop owner pointed her mouth at the cemetery behind the church.

    "Look, sir, even on ordinary days, there are many people whoe here to buy flowers for their loved ones or friends who are buried there. I can''t ask every customer''s name and identity, right? And I can''t remember every face either. I''m sorry, but I can''t help you with that."

    This answer was not unexpected for Bryan. And even if the bunch of flowers was really sent by ck, Bryan didn''t think he would show up with his original face or name. He would have used some kind of disguise or alias to avoid being recognized. The reason why he asked was just to try his luck and hope that the owner would remember some people who looked more strange or suspicious in their behavior.

    "In that case¨C" Bryan also apologized to Mrs. Tramon with a smile. "Please forgive me for being rude."

    The flower shop owner who was ready to end the conversation and deal with her own affairs was stunned when she heard this. She stared at Bryan''s eyes and didn''t have time to ask why this young wizard said this when she suddenly found out that the young wizard''s pair of distinctive purple eyes suddenly glowed brightly. Then, as if the sky copsed and the earth fell apart, a dark and unfathomable darkness appeared from the pupil of his eye. In an instant, Mrs. Tramon lost consciousness and control of her body.

    Huh-¡ª¡ª

    From the moment they met, Bryan read the memory of the flower shop owner. A frozen picture, a fast-forwarded image with a lot of information, like a wave hitting Bryan who stood on nothingness, making him unconsciously squint his eyes.

    Two days, a week, two weeks¡­

    With Mrs. Tramon''s perspective, Bryan quickly grasped all the people who had appeared near the church recently.

    He saw their faces, their clothes, their expressions, their actions. He filtered out the irrelevant ones and focused on the ones who had bought lilies from her. He looked for any clues that would link them to the person he was looking for.

    Bryan had an excellent memory, which might be due to his two-life soul ovep. He had lived in two different worlds, two different times, two different identities. He had experienced many things that most people could not imagine. And his innate extraordinary mental power allowed him to remember clearly the faces of everyone who shed by in his sight under full concentration andpare them with those wizards he already knew. He was looking for any resemnce or connection that would lead him to the person who had left those flowers and tears in the Potter''s house.

    The further back he traced, the more blurred the faces of those people in Mrs. Tramon''s subconscious memory became. By the time he reached twenty days ago, those people were only vaguely outlined. They looked like shadows or sketches, barely recognizable as human beings.

    Bryan was not unable to make Mrs. Tramon remember those people''s looks again, but if he did so, he might cause irreparable mental damage to this innocent woman. He didn''t want to hurt her or vite her privacy more than necessary. Besides, those vague-faced people didn''t make Bryan''s tense intuition tremble either, so he didn''t do that. He continued to search for the one who could catch his attention.

    The memory continued forward: twenty-seven days, twenty-eight days, twenty-nine days-

    "I need a bunch of lilies."

    In the dusk, a wizard with a cold aura all over his body appeared in front of Bryan''s eyes with a very low voice that made the whole memory world suddenly freeze!

    In nothingness, Bryan opened his mouth silently in astonishment.

    *******************************

    For More Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0158 Relations

    0158 Rtions

    In the mind of the flower shop owner Tramon, among the frozen memories, Bryan stared wide-eyed at the wizard who was a bit blurry in appearance and figure, his face showing astonishment.

    He had a distinctive look that was hard to forget: greasy ck hair that even shampoo couldn''t wash clean, a hooked nose and a sallowplexion, a thin body and a long cloak, and a pair of cold ck eyes that seemed to pierce through everything. But this was too strange, wasn''t it? How did Professor Snapee back to pay tribute to the Potters?

    Bryan was puzzled.

    He had talked with Snape at Hogwarts, and he had never seen him show any respect or sympathy for Harry or his parents. On the contrary, he had always been hostile and sarcastic towards Harry, and he had often made derogatory remarks about James Potter.

    After Christmas this year, he had just returned to Hogwarts and met Hermione in the hospital wing who had mistakenly used Polyjuice potion to transform into a cat-girl. Bryan had once asked Snape there about the Chamber of Secrets attacks that had happened, and he had also asked him a few questions about Harry Potter, whom he had not met yet. But he didn''t hear a few good words from Snape''s mouth!

    At that time, from Snape''sment, Bryan guessed that he had a deep feud with Potter''s father, James Potter, when he was young, and most likely he was the one who suffered a loss.

    That''s why he had such a big prejudice against Harry.

    But he came here alone without anyone knowing, to pay tribute to the Potters, and left tears in front of the Potter family portrait This was already the second time Bryan saw this man who closed his heartpletely shed tears!

    He had said something about atonement before he left, but Bryan didn''t understand what he meant by that.

    Bryan''s brain worked fast, trying to see through the truth in the fog.

    Professor Snape had a grudge against Harry''s father, and this grudge had not been forgotten in his heart. Otherwise, he had no reason to target Harry so much at Hogwarts.

    ''What kind of grudge was it?''

    ''Atonement''

    The night he left Hogwarts, Snape opened his heart for a moment and said this to him. But why did he atone? Could it be that the death of the Potters actually had something to do with him?

    Bryan had this thought in his mind, but wasn''t it Sirius ck who betrayed the Potters and revealed their location to Voldemort? Could there be any more unknown secrets behind the death of the Potters? Did Professor Snape, who might have worked for Voldemort for a while back then, also y some role in it?

    ording to this reasoning, Bryan could understand why Snape came here after the Potters died. He regretted what he had done and turned to the ''light''.

    He came here to express his guilt-

    No, this was not the truth, because this possibility ignored Snape''s still hateful attitude towards Harry and his unforgotten knot.

    Snape hates Harry and his father, So he came here, what he really wanted to pay tribute to was Harry''s mother, James Potter''s wife, Lily Potter?

    In silence, Bryan''s eyes widened and shone with a strange light. He realized that Professor Snape and Harry''s mother probably had an unusual rtionship!

    Think about it. Harry''s parents have been dead for more than ten years. If it was a shallow rtionship, it might have been forgotten in these years.

    ''What kind of rtionship would it be if it were a particrly deep rtionship?''

    ''A close friend in teenage? A secret crush once loved deeply? Or did they be lovers for a period of time, butter separated for some reason?''

    Bryan''s mouth twisted slightly, and the fire of gossip burned in his heart.

    The first possibility was not great. The reason was simple. Whether it was in the previous world or in the mysterious wizarding world now, Bryan had never seen such an intimate but purely innocent rtionship between men and women in his two lifetimes of nearly half a century!

    Tsk tsk I see. No wonder Professor Snape hated James Potter so much and had such a big prejudice against little Harry. This was indeed a deep-rooted hatred!

    If it were Bryan himself, seeing the child of the man who took away his happiness swaying in front of him every day, and this child was also born by that hateful man and his beloved one, he would inevitably be twisted in his heart.

    If Lily Potter had been just Snape''s unrequited love, maybe it would hurt less. But if they had been lovers before, and James Potter had stolen her away with his charm, then this drama would be really cruel!

    ording to this spection, Bryan could easily understand why Snapeter entered Hogwarts and became Dumbledore''s right-hand man. He also understood why Dumbledore would protect Snape who used to be a Death Eater. Probably many years ago, when Snape learned that the woman he loved died at Voldemort''s hands, his loyalty to Voldemort was shattered by his love for Lily. He was eager to avenge his beloved woman, so he probably went straight to Dumbledore, expressed his determination, and hoped that one day in the future, when the Dark Lord''s shadow covered the earth again, he could do something to defeat the Dark Lordpletely. He was willing to risk his life and reputation for this cause.

    Sigh! Thinking of this, Bryan''s mood also became heavy. That night at Hogwarts, Snape''s despair that overflowed from his body was so unbearable for Bryan to look at. From this, it can be seen that his love for Lily Potter was probably not ordinary.

    In the eyes of bystanders, infatuation is a respectable and beautiful quality, but for the parties involved, in most cases, it will be a very sad thing.

    Before, Bryan hoped that one day he could help Snape get out of the cage that imprisoned his heart, but ording to this situation, this hope was slim. And in the future, if Voldemort returns and fails again, and there is no chance to turn over, Snape who has fulfilled all his obsessions may choose to end his life. He may think that there is nothing left for him in this world.

    "It seems that this matter still depends on Potter."

    If Bryan''s guesses were correct, then Snape''s attitude towards Harry must not be just simple dislike, but aplex emotion. If anyone could help Snape get out of the cage, there was no doubt that only Harry, Lily''s son, had this possibility. He was the living proof of Lily''s existence, the legacy of her love. He had her eyes, her courage, her kindness. He was the only one who could touch Snape''s heart and make him see beyond his hatred.

    Bryan left Tramon''s mind and modified her memory slightly when he left.

    In the distance, the setting sun had already dyed the horizon red. Bryan stood not far from the church and listened quietly to the hymnsing from the small church. His expression was solemn. This trip to Godric''s Hollow didn''t find any clues about ck, but he identally figured out some of Snape''s past. However, Bryan was not happy for deepening his understanding of Professor Snape. On the contrary, he felt heavy.

    Not to mention those young wizards, in today''s Hogwarts and even in the wizarding world, who was the most concerned wizard for Bryan Watson? That was undoubtedly Professor Snape.

    The world was about to be turbulent. The wizards were now rushing on the crest of a wave of an era. Bryan hoped that when this wave fell and the sea surface returned to calm, Severus Snape would still be safe and sound. He hoped that he could see him smile again someday.

    The night he returned to Hogwarts before, Snape showed resistance to his return because he knew that Hogwarts might not be able to withstand this rising wave. He hoped that Bryan would leave far away and not get involved in trouble. But now, Bryan hoped that Snape would leave Hogwarts and find a ce to live again. A ce where he could heal his wounds and find some happiness.

    "Is it possible?"

    Bryan lowered his head and looked at the shadow on the ground that gradually lengthened. He smiled helplessly. Everyone''s life belonged to themselves and was not easy to interfere with. He could only offer his support and advice, but he could not make decisions for Snape. He could only hope that Snape would make the right choice for himself.

    After a sigh, he faced the afterglow of the setting sun and took out his wand. He prepared to use London as a transit station and return to Hogsmeade. Before leaving, he nced at Potter''s old house between the gaps of several houses. His eyes wereplicated.

    Well then, let it be. Bryan withdrew his gaze and raised his wand. He had already visualized the familiar streets of London in his mind. His figure was blurred as he prepared to apparate. But just as hepletely entered the high-dimensional space, a thought that suddenly jumped into his mind made his eyes sharp. He sensed something was wrong. He stepped back and locked onto Potter''s old house again. He zoomed in his vision and saw what he had missed before.

    "Footprints."

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    For More Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0159 Clues

    0159 Clues

    With a loud bang, a cloud of dust rose up in the air, and Bryan found himself back in the bedroom on the second floor of the Potter''s old house, where the tragedy had happened.

    The sun was setting behind the rooftops of the neighboring houses, casting long shadows and dimming the light in the broken bedroom. The only source of illumination was the bright beam that came out of the tip of Bryan''s wand, piercing through the darkness that surrounded him. His sharp eyes scanned the room and quickly locked on the footprints that stretched from the gaping hole in the wall to the picture frame that hung on the opposite side.

    He knew that the flowers thaty on the floor were given by Professor Snape, and he also guessed that the tear marks on the shattered mirror frame were most likely left by Professor Snape as well. There was no problem with that. The problem was these footprints. They looked fresh and clear, as if someone had just walked in and out of the room. But who was it? And why did theye here?

    On the floor that was covered with a thinyer of dust, Bryan could see his own footprints, but also another set that belonged to someone else. His expression turned solemn as he tried to figure out the identity and motive of the intruder.

    Before leaving, he suddenly thought of a question. For so many years, would Professor Snape onlye to mourn his former love this year?

    Impossible, if everything was as he guessed, Professor Snape probably had toe here several times a year, on the anniversary of her death, on her birthday, on Valentine''s Day, or any other day that reminded him of her. Then why, there was only this string of footprints in the room and nothing else?

    ''Washed away by rain?'' Bryan looked up at the ceiling that was mostly intact and ruled out this guess.

    Or Professor Snape had never entered the room before, but because of the escape of Sirius ck, who killed the Potters, he was stirred up and broke into the room?

    Bryan could not deny this possibility, but his intuition told him that this was not the case.

    And what supported his intuition was his understanding of Severus Snape. Because of those unbearable past events, this man had been ustomed to hiding himself for so many years, whether it was his true inner thoughts or his whereabouts.

    ording to his guess, Snape should have entered this bedroom many times, but every time he left, he would use magic to cover up his traces and not let anyone notice. Not to guard against anyone, but just not wanting anyone to know.

    If this was the case, then the owner of these footprints

    Bryan raised his wand and tapped his temple, uttering a word that sounded like a whisper: "Sensus Amplifico!"

    This was a rare and powerful charm that he had discovered in some ''ancient'' books from the underworld. It enhanced the sensitivity and uracy of all his senses, allowing him to perceive the slightest details and nuances in his environment. But the spell also had a serious drawback: it made him more susceptible to sensory overload or distraction. He had to be careful and use it sparingly, and never in a duel. He called it the hyper sense spell.

    In an instant, the world suddenly erged in front of him, and the fine dust on the ground seemed to turn into pebbles. Even the faint sound of air flow became extremely clear.

    Bryan suddenly became like an experienced Muggle detective, using his poisonous eyes and sharp brain to analyze everything in his field of vision, trying to find more clues.

    In fact, if Bryan hade earlier, the traces of personal magic power still remained in the air, then he would have some methods to use, but it had been too long, and the natural magic power flowing in the space had already obliterated the traces of magic power left by the person unconsciously. Bryan had to use this ''stupid'' way to find clues.

    Starting from the picture frame, his eyes moved inch by inch towards the hole. Bryan observed the footprints on the ground, trying to find traces of the owner of the footprints.

    Suddenly, his focused eyes fell on the broken wall below the hole. He quickly floated over, bent down and took a small strand of silk from a sharp piece of wood. The silk was gray-white, stained with dirt, and smelled slightly foul. Bryan pinched the silk and looked at it back and forth, and unconsciously, a curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

    He had found a clue. A clue that might reveal the identity of the intruder. A clue that was left by a piece of clothing that was torn by the wood. A piece of clothing that was gray-white, dirty, and foul-smelling.

    He was familiar with this fabric. It was a striking gray-white color that stood out from the dull surroundings. More than two months ago, Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, who had appeared on the front page of the Prophet for thest time in his life, wore clothes of this color, very eye-catching.

    Now, the sun hadpletely fallen below the horizon, and the peaceful vige was lit up with dim candlelight. Only the breeze on the wilderness sang louder and louder, carrying the scent of grass and flowers. It was a stark contrast to the scene of death and destruction that he had just witnessed.

    In order to avoid attracting attention, Bryan extinguished the fluorescence at the tip of his wand, hid his figure with a Disillusionment Charm, and left the Potter''s old house. He walked casually along the street, pretending to be a passerby, but his eyes were alert and vignt. After wandering around for a fewps, he walked into a deserted alley where no one came in.

    The silk thread that was two or three feet long did not fall to the ground after leaving Bryan''s fingers, but stayed steadily in mid-air. As the wand drew a mysterious circle, the silk gradually turned into powder, and a small group of thin, transparent air appeared in front of Bryan.

    Bryan stared at his harvest, his eyes solemn, and whispered softly,

    "Avensegium¨C"

    Hoo¨C

    The transparent air that gathered into an irregr shape in front of Bryan showed waves, and slowly moved in a certain direction, but before Bryan could catch up, the air turned back and moved in another direction. Like this, like a headless fly, bumping around.

    Bryan narrowed his eyes and silently thought about why this would happen.

    ''Three possibilities, the first one, ck was very alert, just like when he was active as the golden viper, he had some magic on his body to prevent tracking and positioning and conceal curses, which made it near impossible to directly locate his position.

    The second one, ck was currently in a ce protected by powerful magic, blocking all tracking magic.

    The third one, the silk itself carried a very weak breath, and after a month, if ck was in a region with a strong or mixed magic field, then it would be difficult to locate him as well.

    Then, which one would it be?''

    Bryan crossed his arms and leaned against the mud wall, quietly staring at the air that was running around.

    "The first possibility. ck would need at least a wand, um. For him, it would be very dangerous to attack a wizard and snatch a wand under the full pursuit of the Ministry of Magic and the Dementors. He could be exposed at any time. He had been hiding for so long and had not been discovered. ck must be very cautious and would not do that."

    After a short thought, Bryan ruled out the first possibility, and the second and third possibilities were not much different.

    ''If it was really these two situations-''

    Bryan snapped his index finger.

    ''That meant that ck was very likely to have appeared in Hogsmeade, the Forbidden Forest, or had already ambushed in Hogwarts.''

    Thinking of this, Bryan''s aura became sharp.

    Bryan wanted to catch ck, and the Ministry''s huge bounty was only one of the purposes. He also wanted to avenge the Potters, although they did not have a rtionship with him, and restore the stability of the underworld as soon as possible. These were also his purposes. And after the trip to Godric''s Hollow, there was another reason.

    That was to help untie the knot in the heart of Professor Snape. Although it ovepped with the above reasons, the meaning was actually different.

    "Um, my contract with Remus Lupin. After catching ck, I will inform Professor Snape first, let him kill ck, maybe, it will make him feel less depressed."

    Bryan stopped the air that was almost dissipated, thought for a while, and sealed it on a strand of gray hair on his head. If ck appeared near him in a certain area, then this strand of hair would react.

    Thinking that ck might have been lurking near Hogwarts, Bryan felt more urgent. He raised his wand and was ready to Apparate back to Hogsmeade. In the next period of time, he might have to patrol the vige like the Dementors every day, looking for any signs of ck.

    Bang¨C

    Just then, the dim yellow light from the ss window of a Muggle family a hundred feet away suddenly went out, and the whole house plunged into darkness.

    Bryan was stunned, and then smiled. He wondered if the Muggles had a power outage or forgot to pay their bills. Muggle technology was advancing by leaps and bounds, but it had not reached the level of his previous life. In his distant memory, that was still when he lived in the countryside in his childhood in his previous life. At night, he often encountered such embarrassing situations, when the lights would flicker and die, leaving him and his family in the dark. He remembered how they would light candles andnterns, and tell stories and jokes to pass the time.

    Some memories of the past made Bryan feel happy. He took back his gaze and prepared to leave, but before his body was embedded in the void, a vague sentence from Tonks a few days ago suddenly popped into his mind.

    "¨Cck''s ancestral home, protected by many ancient and powerful magic, can''t get in."

    *******************************

    Author''s Note: Avenseguim is a spell that takes an object owned by someone and turns it into a way to track that person down. Newt used the spell on the feather from Kama''s cap to find him.

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    For More Chapters: /FicFrenzy

 0160 Grimmauld Place

    0160 Grimmauld ce

    Bryan had a hard time finding Grimmauld ce, although Tonks had given him a clue: "a rundown neighborhood in northwest London" but that was too vague for Bryan to pinpoint the exact location. He knew he couldn''t just wander around every Muggle street and ask people if they had heard of Grimmauld ce. That would be too suspicious and risky.

    But this was not a new challenge for Bryan, who had been working in the outside world for several years and had gained a lot of experience. He knew how to find the information he needed.

    He returned to London that night, checked into a hotel for one night, and the next morning he headed to thergest Muggle police station in the northwest area. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, making him invisible to the naked eye, and sneaked into the station. He quickly hypnotized a policeman with a subtle spell, and made him lead him to the archive room. There, he searched through the files and maps, and finally found the exact address of Grimmauld ce. He memorized it and left the station without a trace. Before heading to his destination, he also stopped by a fast food restaurant for breakfast. He enjoyed a hot dog and a cup of coffee, while nning his next move.

    Before he left, he also grabbed a bite at a fast food joint. By the time he reached the three-mile radius around Grimmauld ce using the Muggle transportation, the sun was high in the sky.

    "What a shabby ce¨C"

    In a 24-hour convenience store three miles away, behind the spotless ss window, Bryan, who was munching on a hot dog, looked at the street that was on the edge of the city and muttered to himself.

    It was daytime, but there were not many cars and Muggles on the main road of the district. The paint on the tall streetmps on both sides of the road was severely peeled off, exposing the rusty metal underneath. A gust of wind swept by, and the old newspapers abandoned by people on the side of the road spun up and flew into the air, hanging on a clothesline outside the balcony of a house. The windows of the houses were either broken or boarded up, and the walls were covered with graffiti and stains. The whole district looked like a ghost town, abandoned and forgotten by the world. But Bryan knew that this was not the case,

    There was a faint trace of magic in the air¨Cthis did not surprise Bryan, he had anticipated this situation beforehand, otherwise he would not have approached this ce slowly using the Muggle way.

    The monitoring magic was the work of the Aurors. They had set up monitoring magic around Grimmauld ce. As soon as someone used magic in this area, the Aurors would show up behind you in the next second and threaten to lock you up or worse.

    But Apparition was not forbidden in this area. In fact, the Aurors were hoping that Sirius ck would do that. They had set up anti-Apparition wards around Grimmauld ce, which would trigger an rm if someone tried to Apparate in or out. They had also surrounded the house with dozens of Aurors, who were ready to capture or kill Sirius ck on sight. Bryan had seen the Aurors on his way to the convenience store. They were disguised as Muggles, wearing casual clothes and carrying bags or newspapers.

    So how to get close to that house, Bryan, who had his cheeks stuffed with food, wondered in his mind. In this area, there was not only monitoring magic, but also arge number of Aurors. They formed a line, a line into a, centered on Grimmauld ce, evenly distributed within a three-mile range, not leaving any gaps, and ready to support each other in case of an attack.

    This was not the first time Bryan had dealt with Aurors. He acknowledged their "Professional skills", but their problem was that they were not prepared for "high-tech" wizards.

    He could easily break in with his identity as the Golden Viper, but he didn''t want to do that. He had used this identity for several years and had built a certain reputation and influence.

    Bryan didn''t want to make this identity sh with the Ministry of Magic. For the sake of the stability of the wizarding world, the Ministry of Magic could turn a blind eye to some of the illegal activities of the underworld wizards, but this leniency would definitely not extend to the matter of Sirius ck.

    Sirius ck was the most wanted criminal in the wizarding world, and anyone who helped him or tried to contact him would be considered an enemy of the Ministry of Magic. Bryan didn''t want to be that enemy.

    ''Change the disguise?''

    That was not impossible. But thinking of those Aurors and Tonks, who had just left St. Mungo''s Hospital not long ago, Bryan hesitated and gave up this idea.

    Knock, knock, knock¡ª

    Bryan gazed at the bleak district with a nk expression, tapping the table lightly, making a rhythmic sound. After a while, the knocking sound abruptly stopped, and his raised fingers froze in the air. A smile crept up on Bryan''s mouth for no reason.

    "Then, let''s lure them away."

    The night was deep, and the pale moonlight was gradually obscured by the shifting ck clouds. The shadows swelled from one end of the street like a wave, slowly but surely dragging the world into a mysterious realm.

    Caw¨CCaw¡ª

    Several startled ck crows took flight from a barren grasnd in the middle of Grimmauld ce, swiftly darted over the roof and melted into the darkness. Their coarse and raspy cries echoed in the night, adding to the eerie and suspenseful atmosphere.

    Hah¡ª In a dark alley on the south side of Grimmauld ce, Tonks, who was d in a dark cloak and concealed in the shadow of a power pole, exhaled a breath. Her eyes were fixed on the narrow gap between the 11th and 13th houses in the square, but her eyes were dull and weary.

    At this moment, a slight sound from behind made Tonks jolt, and she abruptly turned around. She raised her wand instinctively, ready to cast a spell at the intruder But when she saw the visitor''s familiar silhouette, Tonks rxed, rubbed her shoulders, and slowly lowered the wand in her hand.

    "I''m here to take over, Tonks, you can go find a ce to rest for a while¨C"

    The calm and deep voice said something that made Tonks perk up a bit, but she didn''t obey the order and leave right away.

    "I think we''re just wasting our time, Kingsley."

    ncing at the square that showed no sign of activity, Tonks lowered her voice and grumbled. She felt frustrated and restless, and she wanted to do something more meaningful and exciting than guarding an empty street.

    "Since ck escaped from Azkaban, we''ve been guarding here, but we haven''t gotten anything so far. In my opinion, we should send all the Aurors to the vicinity of Hogwarts, search Hogsmeade and the Forbidden Forest, instead of squandering precious time and energy here, Kingsley!"

    "You have a point, Tonks."

    Surprisingly, Kingsley didn''t argue with Tonks''s opinion. Apparently, he shared a simr assessment in his heart. He had been an Auror for a long time, and he had seen many things. He had fought against the Death Eaters in the first war, and had witnessed their atrocities and horrors. He had also seen the rise and fall of the Dark Lord, and hoped for asting peace and order. Kingsley stood shoulder to shoulder with Tonks, facing the shabby and deste square in silence. After a long time, Kingsley took a deep breath and said again.

    "But ck is a Death Eater, Tonks. You didn''t live through that period of time. You don''t know how cruel and cunning the Death Eaters are. We can''t overlook any possibility."

    "Alright, you''re right, Kingsley. But maybe you can help me arrange to go to Hogsmeade. At least, after work, I can have a drink with my old ssmates¨C"

    Tonks yed with her pink hair that looked more like straw and muttered discontentedly.

    "Staying upte is really bad for you. Lately, I''ve noticed that my hair is falling out a lot¨C"

    Boom!

    A low rumbling sound like thunder came from another direction two miles away. Apanied by a shrill scream, the dazzling fireworks that burst in the air suddenly lit up the quiet night!

    "Stop, ck!"

    When the sound of the fireworks died down, an angry roar made Tonks and Kingsley''s faces change.

    "It''s Dawlish''s voice!"

    Tonks''s eyes were incredulous, and she gasped and shouted.

    "ck, he actually came back here!"

    Kingsley''s face was grim and he didn''t reply. He pointed his wand at the empty space in front of him, and with a whisper, a graceful and shiny lynx materialized from a silver-white mist. Kingsley stepped forward and used his wand to transmit a piece of information into the lynx''s mind. The lynx leaped nimbly in the air, and then suddenly vanished in front of them.

    "Kingsley?" Tonks asked puzzledly. "What are you doing, we should-"

    "Prevent the previous mistake, Tonks," Kingsley said calmly."Let''s go, Tonks, let''s send that despicable scoundrel back to Azkaban!"

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 0161 Blackâ€™s Attack

    0161 ck¡¯s Attack

    As if looking down at the earth from a bird''s eye view, a dark figure suddenly appeared in an empty alley near Grimmauld Square. They emerged from a hidden spot and sprinted away from the nearest Auror patrolling nearby. The others quickly mounted their flying brooms and soared towards the source of the loud explosion with full speed. The night sky was lit up by shes of different colors, and the sound of curses and spells echoed in the air.

    Tonks and Kingsley were among the first ones to reach the scene of chaos. They gasped in horror as they witnessed the devastation that had befallen on the street. A stretch of asphalt road built by Muggles waspletely torn apart by a powerful st that had also ruptured the drainage pipes hidden underground. Water jets spurted out from every crack and hole in an erratic fashion. The violent shock wave had ripped off the wall and roof of the second floor of a Muggle house closest to the epicenter of the explosion.

    Through the broken ss window, Tonks could see a terrified Muggle couple sitting on a copsed mattress, clutching each other and screaming at the top of their lungs! Their faces were pale and their eyes were wide with fear. They had no idea what was happening outside their home.

    The lights of the surrounding buildings flickered on one by one, and the noises and cries for help from the Muggles filled the air. Some of them tried to call the police or fire brigade, but their cell-phones were not working. Others ran out of their houses to see what was going on, but they were stopped by a group of wizards in ck cloaks who cast memory charms on them

    The horrific scene stunned Tonks, who felt a surge of pity andpassion for the innocent victims. She opened her mouth and instinctively wanted tofort the Muggle couple on the second floor, but before she could take a step, she was pulled back by Kingsley''s arm,

    "Department of Magical idents and Catastrophes will be here any minute, they will take care of everything here, Tonks, focus on our job. This is awful."

    Kingsley''s voice was shaky and his breath was ragged, "This scene reminds me of twelve years ago!"

    Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

    The dazzling and dense curses flew like a hailstorm, the ground trembled incessantly, the explosions echoed in the silent night, and more and more Muggles on the outskirts of the city noticed themotion. In a series of deafening sts, it seemed that the whole city was jolted awake!

    "What''s going on, Dawlish!"

    Kingsley, who had rushed to the battlefield and quickly joined the closing encirclement, looked pale at the man in the ck robe who was dodging one curse after another with incredible agility. He shouted at Dawlish, who was seething with anger.

    "This person suddenly broke into my patrol area. I wanted to verify his identity and ordered him to stop. Then the ground suddenly exploded. The strong wind lifted his cloak. I saw his face!"

    Dawlish pointed at the man in ck with trembling fingers. "It''s him! It''s Sirius ck!''

    Kingsley hurled a stunning spell at a tricky angle, but the ck-robed man who was fleeing seemed to have eyes behind his back. He abruptly threw himself forward before the red curse hit his ribs. He avoided Kingsley''s spell with unbelievable speed.

    "Are you sure this is ck!"

    Kingsley, who had a vague feeling that something was wrong, yelled at Dawlish,

    "I think this guy is more like a werewolf or a vampire. Dawlish, how can a wizard be so agile!"

    But this question did not need Dawlish to answer. Kingsley had his own answer. In a gust of wind, the ck-robed man''s hood was lifted again. In the dim curse light, that face looked like a dry corpse. The two sunken ck eyes on it showed a terrifying madness,

    "You can''t catch me!"

    When the hoarse and ferocious voice fell into his ears, the world suddenly became silent for a moment, and then erupted again.

    "Even if Voldemortes in person, he won''t be able to save you tonight, ck!"

    Kingsley shouted angrily. The Aurors and wizards who had been transferred to patrol here totaled more than a dozen people surrounded him from all sides.

    A group of Muggles, trembling and stunned! stood at their own windows and gaped at the scene on the street that resembled a Hollywood movie shooting.

    Facing the dense crowd of magic department strikers onnd and sky that surrounded him, ''ck'' sneered incessantly without any fear, but raised his wand and mmed it down! A wave of surging air waves centered on him swept across the block with an overwhelming force. The strikers around him were thrown off their feet one after another. One by one, those who had blocked the sky on their flying brooms plummeted to the ground like falling stars, writhing and howling in agony!

    ''ck'' let out a shrillugh full of mockery, but he also knew that he couldn''t linger here for too long under these circumstances. So he quickly bent over and grabbed a flying broom at his feet. He mounted it smoothly without wasting a second. He zoomed away from the city and vanished into the endless night in a blink of an eye.

    Without waiting for anyone''s orders, all those strikers who were still conscious rose up with clenched teeth and limped to their feet. They mounted their flying brooms, some sharing one broomstick with another, and pursued ''ck'' with resolute eyes.

    "Oh my God!"

    An old woman in her sixties or seventies stood trembling behind a cracked ss window. She was so terrified by this magical scene that she could barely utter a word. She had lived in this neighborhood for decades, and she had never seen anything like this before. She thought she was dreaming or hallucinating, but the pain in her ears and the smell of smoke told her otherwise.

    "Is this the end of the world?"

    "Don''t worry, ma''am!"

    Tonks also mounted her Comet 260 and said softly, "We will be able to end this nightmare soon!"

    Swipe, swipe! Looking down from high altitude, it seemed that dozens of giant dragonflies had suddenly emerged, darting towards the suburbs in a swarm. Closer to the city center, the neon lights from the Muggle police cars and fire trucks were already faintly visible. They would probably arrive at the vicinity in no time. However, these Muggles were destined to y no role.

    At this moment, the Department of Magical idents and Catastrophes that was in a state of turmoil was urgently contacting the Muggle government through relevant channels, hoping that the Muggles would remain calm and leave everything to the wizards to solve.

    ording to normal development, tonight''s incident would definitely cause a sensation in both the magical world and the Muggle world, causing incalcble impact, but Bryan was not worried, because under the notorious reputation of Sirius ck, whether it was on the Muggle side or in the Ministry of Magic, they would try their best to cover up the fact that ''ck'' hadunched another terrorist attack. Even the Daily Prophet would not have any reports.

    As for privately, unconfirmed news from the Ministry of Magic was nothing more than rumors and gossip, and would not cause subversive and catastrophic panic in the entire European wizarding world.

    There were not many residents near Grimmauld Square. The bombing just now had made all those who didn''t witness it with their own eyes think that a gas explosion had urred. Faced with this situation, they didn''t dare to stay in the house at all, but ran out of the door in panic, scattering in all directions to escape the disaster.

    In the shadow of a tall streetmp near the square, Bryan in a ck travel cloak without any markings came out of the illusory shadow state.

    After circling around for a while, his gaze fixed on the position of No. 11 and No. 13 Grimmauld Square. Although he didn''t know the exact location of the ck family''s old house, the alert and trap set by the Ministry of Magic gave him a clear clue.

    Da, da, da

    Bryan walked slowly towards the two houses, casually freezing the magic set by the Ministry of Magic with a flick of his wand. He stood in front of the two houses, staring intently at the partition wall shared by the two houses.

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 0162 Confrontation (Part 1)

    0162 Confrontation (Part 1)

    He had created such a massive chaos, and within a few minutes, arge number of employees from the Ministry of Magic would swarm here to erase the memories of those muggles who were shocked by their worldview, as well as fix the damage caused by Bryan, so he didn''t have much time to spare. After scanning the houses on both sides, he made sure that there were no muggles inside, and a thinyer of light like cicada wings wrapped around Bryan''s body.

    Crack!

    Just like dealing with the notebook Horcrux of Voldemort in the Chamber of Secrets, Bryan''s radiant hand directly pierced into the space concealed by the curse. He was like squeezing through a tight gap between two bars of an iron gate, inch by inch, forcing his way in. Half a minuteter, his bodypletely vanished into the air.

    Simr to the magical space inside the Horcrux, the magical ne equivalent to the high-dimensional space was immense and limitless, except that there was no evil magic that made people nauseated inside the Horcrux.

    Breaking through the outermost space barrier, Bryan stood in the void, staring at the five-story building that seemed to float in the surging river of space, and the iron constructed by bronze chains of varying thicknesses that blocked him in front of him, his face solemn and alert.

    To look at it from a conventional perspective, this house was not far from Bryan. In the outside world, it would take no more than half a minute to reach it, but Bryan knew that it would not be so easy. In the realm of space, it seemed that it was only a step away, but in reality, they might be thousands of miles apart or even unreachable by normal means.

    Just like earlier this year, when Bryan dealt with the memories in the bottle that night, hepletely isted his office from the space where Hogwarts was located and banished it to the space. If you didn''t know the specific spatial coordinates of the office, then even Dumbledore might have to spend decades trying to break into his office.

    And the same was true for the old house in front of him.

    As for the main body of this chain, it was actually the defensive spells and curses added by the heads of the ck family for their ancestral house. These curses were powerful and ancient, interdependent and mutually restrictive, and it was hard to dissect them one by one from the intertwined rtionship.

    "The heritage of the pure-blood family is indeed extraordinary, this house is really good!"

    Bryan nodded in admiration, but his mood was not very good.

    The ck House was protected by such powerful andplex means. In just a few minutes, Bryan wanted to break through these barriers, which was a tough thing to do.

    After a moment of thought, Bryan stepped forward and stood in front of the curse, quietly scrutinizing it.

    Admittedly, Bryan, who did not know the building coordinates, could not approach the ck House, but the chain in front of him was not something that Bryan could not handle, or even very simple.

    Because these curses could be traced back to hundreds of years ago at the earliest, a considerable part of them had be ineffective, and moreover, due to the uneven magical level of the ck family''s heads of generations, many of theter added magic not only failed to enhance the protection, but instead disrupted the operation of those ancient curses, so they could be destroyed by the simplest violent means.

    The only existing problem was that, with such dense magical nodes connected together, once Bryan started to break out of the barrier, it was very likely to cause the defensework of the ck House to fall into a systemic copse, and once such a bad situation urred, Bryan could easily escape, but the fate of this old house might not be very bright.

    The old house was doomed to be destroyed, either by the violent explosion caused by the sudden chaos of magic that engulfed this space, or by theplete banishment to an unknown dimension, where the people trapped inside would never be able to return to the normal world, and the people in the normal world would never be able to find this hidden mansion. The fate of the house was sealed, and so was the fate of the man who lived in it.

    If he just wanted to kill ck, Bryan could do it with his bare hands, regardless of whether ck was hiding inside the house or not. For such a ruthless and cold-blooded criminal, he could easily adopt some cruel methods that would rather let hundred escape by mistake than let one go, but Bryan''s purpose of pursuing ck was veryplicated, and one of the possibilities, well, at least required him to get ck''s corpse intact. Staring at the house that was sinking and floating in the turbulent flow of magic, Bryan frowned slightly, weighing the pros and cons in his mind. He had to make a decision quickly, before it was toote.

    After a long silence, Bryan finally raised his wand, his eyes calm and determined, but just as he was about to break out of the barrier that surrounded the house, Bryan suddenly turned his head and looked at the direction of the entrance door with a look of astonishment. He saw a torrent of flying brooms crossing the edge of the London area and marching into the vast wilderness, where he and the house were located. He recognized the uniforms and badges of the Ministry of Magic''s hitmen, who were chasing after a ck figure in the air.

    "Howe so fast?!" Bryan eximed, feeling a surge of anger and frustration.

    The wind in his face made Kingsley, who was riding on a flying broom, have to shout with all his strength. He squinted his eyes and looked at the "ck" who was showing his ss in the dense and dazzling bombardment of curses, and felt more and more wrong in his heart. He had been tracking ck for a long time, and he knew that ck was not a simple opponent, but he had never seen him perform such amazing flying skills before.

    "What''s wrong, Kingsley, what did you find?" Dawlish''s face was iron blue, and even the howling wind could not suppress the gloom in his voice. He was the leader of the hitmen team, and he had received a direct order from Minister Fudge to capture or kill ck at all costs. He had mobilized all the avable resources and manpower, and he had followed ck''s trail all the way from London to this wilderness, but he still could not catch up with him.

    "ck!" Kingsley continued to roar, "I''ve never heard of him being a Quidditch master, Dawlish, even the genius seeker from Bulgaria can''tpete with him in flying skills!"

    Many people around heard Kingsley''s roar and also understood what Kingsley wanted to express, but no one spoke, even Dawlish didn''t answer, because no matter who the guy who was ying with the Ministry of Magic''s hitmen like a kite was, they had to catch this guy.

    "Damn it!" Tonks, who followed behind Kingsley, yelled in frustration, "If it weren''t for Minister Fudge to deduct our two month''s bonus, then I would be riding a brand new Nimbus 2001 now, so I would never be left behind by this despicable criminal."

    "Then you should thank Minister Fudge, Tonks!" Dawlish raised his broom and shed past a lonely tree in the wilderness, and said gloomily, "He prevented you from being directly killed by ck!"

    Tonks was about to retort something, but suddenly, two figures that appeared in the mid-air in front of ck with a dazzling fire and explosion sound interrupted her words, and also made the broom team that was flying forward suddenly turn and stop. They were shocked and confused by the sudden appearance of these two figures, who seemed to havee out of nowhere.

    "Sectumsempra!"

    The roar of hatred echoed in the gloomy wilderness under the dark night, and the fierce killing intent made the originally cool air be cold. It was a curse that could cut anything like a sword, and it was aimed at ck casted by one of the two figures, who was a man with a pale and thin face, ck hair, and a hooked nose.

    "Wait, Severus, we haven''t figured it out yet!"

    The other figure, who was hanging on one of the ws of a phoenix, was an old man with a long white beard, half-moon sses, and a purple cloak. He ordered Snape to stop with an unprecedented sharp tone.

    But he obviously underestimated Snape''s hatred for ck. Snape, who was close at hand, did not stop, but instead pointed his wand more resolutely at ck, who was obviously stunned by their appearance. He wanted to kill ck, once and for all, and he would not let anyone stop him, not even Dumbledore.

    Whoosh! Plop!

    Like a sharp de, the curse cut through ck''s body like a hot knife through butter, directly dismembering the ck cloak-d ck in mid-air, and the body that was broken into seven or eight pieces scattered under the powerful inertia, falling into a pond in the wilderness.

    The deep blue eyes of Dumbledore showed a chilling anger, but when his eyes swept over those ''corpses'', the anger in his eyes quickly disappeared, reced by surprise.

    Dumbledorended on a small mound with a thud, and Fawkes stayed on his shoulder and made a soft cry of distress.

    "Mannequin¨C"

    Looking at the ck cloth-wrapped Mannequin with neat cuts at his feet, Snape''s shoulders shook violently, and his twisted face twitched with horror and disbelief.

    "MANNEQUIN!"

    Snape stared at the proud Aurors who were also silent in astonishment and gasped and roared with fury.

    "NO, we were fooled!"

    The first toe back to his senses, Kingsley immediately shouted at Dumbledore with urgency, "Dumbledore, someone is trying to deliberately lead us away, trying to break into ck''s Ancestral house!"

    A ray of light shed across the half-moon sses on the twisted eagle hook nose, and Dumbledore didn''t say a word, and disappeared in the explosion of fire again, leaving behind a trail of smoke.

    On the other side, Bryan, who noticed that the fake ck he made with the transformation magic was smashed and Dumbledore and Snape''s magic appeared at the same time, He twitched his mouth, and added all the curses he knew that could hide and disguise his breath and magic to himself within a few breaths. Then, he turned around and stepped out of this space and returned to Grimmauld Square!

    The dim moonlight waspletely covered by the thick clouds, and the dark and dull air was filled with a suffocating pressure.

    Albus Dumbledore and Bryan Watson, one on this side of the circr square, and one on the other side of the circr square, looked at each other silently, their eyes locked in a tense standoff.

    One after another explosion sounded, and Dumbledore''s side and back were quickly filled with figures, but neither the impulsive Snape nor the Ministry of Magic''s hitmen moved. They locked their eyes on Bryan in a ck robe, suppressing their anger, waiting for Dumbledore''s instructions.

    "."

    Bryan twitched his mouth again, his eyes only fell on Dumbledore, who seemed doubtful between his eyebrows. After thinking for a while, he tilted his head and smiled evilly, showing his teeth.

    "Hehehe"

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 0163 Confrontation (Part-2)

    0163 Confrontation (Part-2)

    The silence that hung over the square was shattered by a cold voice that came from the mouth of Severus Snape, who stared at the cloaked figure on the opposite side of the square with hatred. The figure was shrouded in darkness, hiding his face and body from view, and his gloomy presence seemed to cast a shadow over the night.

    "He''s not ck¨C" Snape said, his voice barely above a whisper, but loud enough for everyone to hear. He looked at the cloaked figure on the opposite side of the square, with no identifiable features, and his gloomy face radiated a chill that could freeze water.

    The others who were with Snape were also stunned by his statement, but they did not have the same certainty as he did. Kingsley and Dawlish had been chasing ''ck'' for a long time, but they had never clearly seen his face or heard his voice. They had dealt with many criminals whomitted evil deeds, and they had developed a keen sense for detecting danger and deception. They had sensed from the dark wizard''s attire and bold actions that he was likely to have escaped from that ce, that ce that contained the source of all evil. But they could not be as sure as Snape in their tone.

    The only one who did not seem surprised or shocked by Snape''s words was Dumbledore. He looked at the cloaked figure with a calm and curious gaze, as if he was trying to see through his disguise and understand his motives. He did not show any sign of fear or anger, but he did not have the usual sparkle in his eyes that indicated that he knew everything and had everything under control. He squinted his eyes slightly, as if he was always in a state of thinking, and he did not say a word.

    ''Did Dumbledore see through my disguise?''

    That was the question that upied the mind of ''ck'', who stood on the other side of the square, facing the wizards who had cornered him. He had expected to meet Dumbledore, but he had not expected to meet Snape, who had recognized him despite his careful concealment of his magical nature.

    He wondered if Dumbledore had the same ability, or if he had some other means of identifying him. He could not bepletely sure, because in the contemporary wizarding world, no one could im to know the full extent of Dumbledore''s power and wisdom, except for the confident Voldemort, who was now his greatest rival and enemy.

    "Dumbledore¨C" Kingsley broke the silence, lowering his deep and authoritative voice, "No matter who this person is, we have to catch him, otherwise, the Ministry of Magic can''t exin it."

    "Yes¨C"

    A ray of light shed across the half-moon sses that Dumbledore wore, hiding the true thoughts of the deep blue eyes behind them. Dumbledore''s tall and thin body, which had seemed to sag under the weight of age and responsibility, suddenly straightened up, and his voice became cheerful and lively.

    "That''s obviously the case." He said, as he waved his wand lightly, and a rope with invisible and binding magic, preventing escape and apparition, and hiding traces appeared in front of the dark wizard, and flexibly looped towards him, like a snake ready to strike.

    Bang¨C A dull and short muffled sound echoed in the air, and a pale white fire shed in the darkness, illuminating the square for a brief moment. The dark wizard''s raised eyebrows and wand slowly fell, as he easily blocked Dumbledore''s attack. He had anticipated that Dumbledore would not recognize him, otherwise he would not use such a simple and low-level magic to try to catch him.

    The magic that the Bryan felt was ''low-level'' in his senses was not so simple for the others. At least, the Aurors who witnessed this scene were shocked and amazed. They saw Dumbledore waving his wand, but they did not understand what he did, or how he did it. They only saw the result, which was that the dark wizard defended himself against Dumbledore''s attack.

    This was incredible and unbelievable. In the contemporary wizarding world, there was no one who could fight against the great Albus Dumbledore, or even match him In everyone''s concept, except for the Dark Lord who had fallen, there should be no wizard who could block Dumbledore''s magic, even Severus Snape, couldn''t help but turn his face and nce at Dumbledore!

    "Hehehe" The dark wizard sneered again, his voice cold and mocking. He took elegant and confident steps and stood at the bottom of the stairs, his chin raised with a defiant and arrogant expression. He looked down at the wizards who faced him, as if he was looking at ants that he could crush at any time.

    "So, the famous Albus Dumbledore has no more than these tricks?"

    The mockery of the mysterious dark wizard made everyone angry. Not everyone in this group of wizards was Dumbledore''s ''student'', but undoubtedly, Dumbledore was the strongest wizard in their hearts, and the dark wizard''s mockery was undoubtedly a p in the face of their faith!

    The angry crowd did not make Dumbledore''s old face show any expression. He shook his sleeve and showed his wrist holding the wand, smiling and responding in a pleasant voice.

    "Actually, I always think that people''s evaluation of me is a bit overrated, and I have to thank you for letting them realize that I am not omnipotent either."

    Bryan hiding his appearance under the hood secretly rolled his eyes, and did not want toment on Dumbledore''s words. He felt that the old man was too cunning trying to lure him into a trap with his false kindness.

    On the periphery of the Grimmauld Square encirclement, arge number of magical reactions appeared. At the same time, the neon lights of the Muggle''s police cars and fire trucks also stopped and did not approach the inner circle. This meant that the relevant departments of the Ministry of Magic had begun to eliminate the impact of the movement he made. He could hear the distant sirens and the muffled voices of the Muggle officials, who were probably being confounded and obliviated by the wizards.

    Bryan knew that if he didn''t n to ughter the entire wizarding world tonight, then now, he should find a way to get away. He had already achieved part of his goal. He nced at the dark sky, where the stars were dimmed by the light pollution of the city. He wondered if he could find a way to escape through the air, but he quickly dismissed the idea. He knew that Dumbledore had set up a powerful anti-flying wards around the square, and he didn''t want to risk being caught by the phoenix''s mes.

    "I''m sorry for the trouble I caused you tonight¨C"

    Bryan said in a hoarse and vicissitudes of voice, he nodded politely to Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic''s hitmen. His tone sounded sarcastic and insincere to them, as if he was mocking their ipetence and helplessness.

    "If you have nothing else to say, then I''m going to leave now."

    "Foolish Delusion!"

    Dawlish, who was in charge of monitoring the whole n of the ck House, red at the dark wizard who had lost his face, and said viciously. His face was red with anger and humiliation, and his eyes were bloodshot. He clenched his wand tightly, as if he wanted to curse the dark wizard into oblivion.

    "You won''t go anywhere, except Azkaban!"

    But apart from him, no one else moved, they just cast their eyes on the tall figure of Dumbledore, who was concentrating on the dark wizard, suppressing their restless thoughts, and waiting for Dumbledore to give instructions. They knew that Dawlish was being impulsive and reckless, and that they had no chance of capturing the dark wizard without Dumbledore''s guidance.

    "It seems they don''t want you to leave, sir¨C" Dumbledore said humorously, "I personally would prefer to find a quiet ce to have a drink and have a good chat about your intentions in trying to break into the ck family''s old house."

    He smiled warmly, as if he was inviting a friend to a tea party, but his eyes were sharp and prating, as if he was trying to see through the dark wizard''s disguise and identity. Snape, who had great expectations and wanted to kill ck tonight, but found that he was not him at all, still remained motionless, but his doubtful eyes nced over. He was puzzled by Dumbledore''s words, and wondered if the old man had any clues or ns. He also felt a surge of curiosity and hatred, wanting to know who this dark wizard was and why he pretended to be ck.

    ''Find a quiet ce and have a drink.''

    Bryan squinted his eyes, ''did Dumbledore really mean something by saying this, could it be that he had seen through his disguise and knew who he was?''

    Logically, this was impossible. Dumbledore was powerful, but he was not omniscient, and there was no reason why he could see through his magic that had been disguisedyer byyer so quickly. But this was also uncertain, no one knew where the limit of the greatest wizard of their time was. He felt a trace of anxiety and caution, thinking that he should not underestimate Dumbledore''s wisdom and experience.

    After thinking for a moment, Bryan decided to leave as soon as possible. His eyes fell on the phoenix on Dumbledore''s shoulder. This phoenix was not simple, it could enter and exit any area that prohibited apparition at will. If Dumbledore was determined to catch him, with the help of this phoenix, he would have to spend great effort to escape.

    "Thank you for your sincere invitation, Dumbledore, but you have a lot of trouble to deal with tonight, so I think it''s more appropriate to change the time¨C"

    Bryan bowed gracefully, and in Dumbledore''s condensed gaze, a terrifying magical intention swept through like a wind, making all the Ministry of Magic''s hitmen cold. The earth and the air began to shake at the same time, and the restless magic was like dry and waterless firewood, and the star sparks sprayed from Bryan''s wand tip ignited it in an instant!

    Boom!

    The ground split open, creating a rift several yards wide that epassed everyone, including Dumbledore. The yawning chasm erupted into a pale white wall of mes reaching up to a hundred feet high. The surging heat and the faint, menacing roars in the firewave scared more than half of the Ministry of Magic employees to sit on the ground! They felt their skin blister, and they screamed and scrambled to get away from the inferno. They had never seen such a powerful and destructive spell, and they wondered if they were facing the end of the world.

    This inferno astounded Severus Snape, who had witnessed the might of Voldemort up close. He instinctively cast several of his favorite spells, attempting to cut through the wall of fire, but the sharp, transparent des were devoured by the rolling mes, producing no effect. He felt a shock and a chill, realizing that this dark wizard was not only stronger than he had imagined, but also more ruthless and cruel.

    "You can''t handle this, Severus."

    Dumbledore, who was also surprised by this magic, regained hisposure and raised his wand. A spatial de seemed to materialize out of thin air, shing directly at the wall of fire! It was a rare and advanced spell, showing Dumbledore''s mastery and skill.

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 0164 Aftermath

    0164 Aftermath

    The effect was remarkable!

    Dumbledore''s magic overpowered the raging fire, and the wall of fire which was as high as a city wall, was directly cut in half by his powerful spell. The mes roared and crackled, as if protesting against the intrusion, but they could not resist the force of the elder wand and its master. The wall of fire that seemed to have been watered with growth hormone regained its height, giving no one a chance to take advantage of the gap.

    Such a result, not to mention others, even Dumbledore''s wise blue eyes became solemn, he looked through the narrow crack of the swaying fire at the ''dark'' wizard outside the fire wall, and saw the dark wizard bow again, and then, in the deafening bang, he vanishedpletely!

    "Don''t run, you coward!"

    Dawlish who was blindly Loyal to the Ministry of Magic and Minister Cornelius Fudge, could not ept such a result, he recklessly apparated to break through the barrier of the fire wall, but his move was undoubtedly very impulsive, not to mention the existence of the fire made the magic in this area in a very unstable state, on the fire wall, there was also Bryan''s magic that prevented apparition.

    Dawlish''s body just disappeared in the air, the next second, he was engulfed with pale fire by the distorted space and squeezed out, fell to the ground and wailed constantly. His skin was blistered and charred, and some parts of his clothes were burned to ashes. He writhed in agony, clutching his face and chest.

    Dumbledore''s waving sleeves made a rustling sound, and the fire on Dawlish''s body was drawn to the tip of Dumbledore''s elder wand as if by some mysterious traction. The fire formed a thin stream of light, and flowed into the wand like liquid. While Snape rushed over and took out various potions to heal Dawlish, he focused on the fire that sshed like a fountain and scattered sparks all around, without saying a word. His ck eyes were cold and sharp, as if he was trying to figure out the origin and nature of the fire.

    "Dumbledore¨C"

    Kingsley''s voice was not as calm as before, his face was scorched by the unexpectedly stable fire, and his eyes showed strong anxiety,

    "I think you can handle these mes, right?"

    He looked around nervously, and saw that the other hit wizards were also in a state of shock and fear. Some of them had their hair and eyebrows singed, and some of them had their brooms damaged or destroyed by the fire. The scene was chaotic and messy, and the muggles nearby were screaming and running away.

    "It just takes a little time, Kingsley,"

    Dumbledore nced at Dawlish, who had recovered his breath with Snape''s help, and the wrinkles on his forehead deepened. He looked at the cage-like wall of fire and said in a calm tone.

    Then, Dumbledore pointed his wand forward again, and in a whirring sound of air flow, the pale fire quickly faded, and after three or four seconds, it became transparent like clear water, and finally, disappearedpletely. The heat and light that had filled the air also vanished, and the night sky returned to its normal darkness.

    "sssssssssss-"

    The hit wizards who escaped from death breathed out like a car tire deting, Tonks leaned on her o 260, which had already turned ck, and subconsciously fiddled with her hair, but unexpectedly felt the moisture in her palm. She came back to her senses and found that her robe had been soaked with sweat!

    "Is there any way to catch up with him, Albus?"

    Kingsley walked to Dumbledore''s side and asked, his expression unwilling. He hated to let the dark wizard get away, especially after he had caused so much trouble and damage. He hoped that Dumbledore had some clues or methods to track him down.

    "I''m afraid it''s very difficult, Kingsley¨C"

    Dumbledore stared at the ce where the dark wizard had just stopped, and said thoughtfully, "That person erased all traces of his magic when he apparated away, even I¨C"

    He stopped abruptly, and looked at his shoulder. Fawkes tilted his head and gently pecked Dumbledore''s cheek, his gem-like eyes flickering, as if questioning him.

    Dumbledore calmly looked at Fawkes, then turned his gaze to the alley where ''ck'' was first discovered, and when he noticed the ground that was turned upside down and the roof of the muggle room that was like blown away by the typhoon, his expression became a bit more solemn,

    "Now, what I want to know more is, how many people have been hurt."

    Ten minutester, Tonks brought the answer to this question.

    "¨CUndersecretary Umbridge stopped the muggle government people, Mr. Crouch is directing the new team that used to handle idental magical events to erase the memories of Muggles, and the Office of Misuse of Magic is also helping. The muggles were scared, but only two of them twisted their legs when they went downstairs¨C"

    She reported in a breathless voice, her face pale and tired. She had been busy dealing with the aftermath of the incident, and she had seen many frightened and confused faces. She felt sorry for them, and angry at the dark wizard who had caused this mess.

    "What about the situation at the Ministry of Magic?"

    Dumbledore was unmoved and continued to ask.

    "Some guys fainted when they fell from their flying brooms, but they are all awake now, anyway, no one is seriously injured!"

    Tonks looked at Dawlish, who was sitting on the ground, with a bandage wrapped around his arm, and his face pale with pain, and showed some sympathy.

    Including Kingsley, all the Ministry of Magic hit wizards fell silent, and no one thought that this result was just brought by luck. Before this operation, none of them had drunk Felix Felicis, the potion that gave good fortune to the drinker.

    They had not expected to face such a powerful and mysterious opponent, who had escaped from their siege with ease. A bold and reckless dark wizard, actually spared the elite wizards screened out by the Ministry of Magic, who specialized in dealing with tough criminals. This was simply a great shame! They felt humiliated and frustrated, and they did not know how to exin their failure to the public and the press.

    "Very well¨C"

    Dumbledore nodded, as if he had expected this result.

    "I just came from the muggle Prime Minister, asking him to cooperate with the Ministry of Magic''s actions!"

    Wrapped in a striped cloak, wearing pajamas inside, Cornelius Fudge appeared here, at least this time he did not wear that ridiculous dark green hat, his messy gray hair exposed to the air, from the panic look, he was in a very anxious situation, "Dolores sent me a message, she said you think that person is not ck? That''s terrible. One ck has already made us miserable, and now another onees out!"

    Fudge''s voice was loud and shrill, and he seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown.

    He had been under a lot of pressuretely, as the Ministry of Magic had been unable to find ck, who had escaped from the wizard prison of Azkaban a month ago. The public was outraged and terrified. Fudge had hoped that this operation would end the crisis, and that he would be able to restore his reputation and authority. He had not expected that the dark wizard they had been chasing was not ck, but someone else, someone who was even more dangerous and elusive.

    The shocking cracks on the ground made Fudge gasp, his eyes quickly swept over the Ministry of Magic''s wizards, and even Dawlish, who was seriously injured, did not make his eyes pause,

    "He ran away, right, Dumbledore, right under your nose?"

    Fudge wiped the sweat dripping from his head, he looked up incredulously at Dumbledore, but his tone seemed to me him for not doing his duty,

    "What will people say about us, Dumbledore, it''s been more than a month, and we haven''t found ck, and now a dark wizard who doesn''t know where he came from has turned the world upside down under the eyes of more than fifty Ministry of Magic elites and Dumbledore, if people run away in panic, I won''t be surprised at all!"

    Fudge''s upper lip curled up, and he didn''t realize that his own performance would increase people''s panic, "¨CWe have to have a good talk, Dumbledore, we have to think of an excuse that people can ept, and the muggles, I didn''t know the situation before I came here, I told the muggle Prime Minister that we were about to catch ck."

    "I think you can stick to this statement, Cornelius."

    Dumbledore had no patience to listen to Fudge''s nagging, he said in a serious tone with impatience, "If you can''t find a way to keep people calm, then keep the Daily Prophet quiet, or promote that the dark wizard who appeared tonight is ck, both are good ways. Sorry, Cornelius, I have something to check personally now, I have to leave-, Severus?"

    Dumbledore looked at Snape, and asked with his eyes about Dawlish''s injury. He saw that Snape had done a good job of healing Dawlish, and that he had used various potions and spells to ease his pain and prevent infection.

    "No problem."

    Snape put away his bottles and jars, stood up and said concisely with a cold face.

    Fawkes spread his brilliant wings and covered Dumbledore and Snape, and in Fudge''s astonished gaze and the puzzled look of the Ministry of Magic hit wizards, he quickly dropped a sentence, ''If you have any questions, you can write to me'', and then, with a soft sound, disappeared from Grimmauld ce.

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 0165 Night DIscussion

    0165 Night DIscussion

    At night, the bright moonlight and the waves that constantly hit the cliff have apanied Hogwarts Castle for thousands of years like a day. The first week of school is about to pass, and the energetic young wizards have passed the initial excitement period. Tonight, except for the nging armor in the castle, the asional portraits who stayed upte and whispered, and the Peeves who patrolled the territory as usual, it was quiet and peaceful.

    "You know who that person is, don''t you?"

    In front of the two ugly gargoyles on the eighth floor, Professor Snape asked Dumbledore expressionlessly. His ck cloak fluttered behind him as he stood in the dim corridor. His cold eyes gazed through Dumbledore''s calm face, as if trying to read his mind.

    "What made you have such a misunderstanding, Severus?"

    Dumbledore shook his old face in surprise, his long beard that reached his waist shone with silver light under the moonlight shining through the window, and his eyes looked innocent. He wore a purple robe with golden stars, and a matching hat that tilted slightly to one side. He smiled gently, as if he had nothing to hide.

    Snape pursed his thin lips and did not say anything more but turned and left directly.. He knew that Dumbledore was ying dumb, and that he would not admit anything. He also knew that arguing with Dumbledore was futile, and that he would not get any answers from him.

    Dumbledore stood still and did not move. He stared at Snape who was leaving quickly until his back disappeared at the corner of the corridor, then lowered his silver eyebrows and walked into his office.

    Fawkes, who rarely moved around, was perched on the golden branches in the fire basin and had fallen asleep. His red and gold feathers glowed faintly in the dark, and his long tail swept the floor. Dumbledore leaned on his office chair, his slender fingers crossed and ced on the desk, silently looking at the portraits of the Hogwarts headmasters hanging on the wall.

    ording to the usual habits of these portraits, they should also be asleep at this time, but tonight, none of them were asleep. They stayed quietly in their own frames, and their eyes were all focused on the empty frame behind Armando Dippet. They were waiting for the return of the former headmaster who had gone to investigate the ck Manor.

    The waiting process was extremely long. The former headmasters couldn''t stand the loneliness and talked to each other in a low voice. Some of them discussed thetest news from the wizarding world, some of them reminisced about the old days, and some of themined about the current situation of Hogwarts. Only the only living person in this office, Dumbledore, maintained admirable patience. He listened to their conversations, but did not join them. He waited quietly and calmly, his eyes fixed on the empty portrait.

    "It has been confirmed, Dumbledore!"

    Finally, the original owner of the empty frame came back. Without waiting for anyone to ask, he said in a jubnt voice,

    "No, during this period of time, there is noone alive in the ck Manor except for an old house-elf. My clever great-grandson has never gone back."

    "Clever?!"

    Armando Dippet''s portrait eximed in a very stiff and sarcastic voice. He was a bald, wrinkled man with a long, silver mustache and a pointed beard. He wore a high-cored, ck robe and a pince-nez that magnified his small, beady eyes. He had a severe and strict expression, and he spoke in a pompous and authoritative tone,

    "ck, I think you must know that your ''clever great-grandson'' is a dirty, stinky traitor, right?"

    Armando Dippet''s naked mockery was like stabbing a ho''s nest, and Phineas immediately yelled! He shook his goatee and rushed into Dippet''s portrait to argue with him, shouting something like ''Noble ck Family'', ''The Wizengamot must have made a mistake'', ''The child is innocent'', ''you are targeting me'' and so on. If it weren''t for Dilys Derwent''s timely intervention, there might have been a wonderful duel between ex-headmasters in the office.

    Ding, ding-

    "Please keep quiet, everyone, I can''t let this historic office be ruined in my hands."

    Dumbledore tapped the table with his fingers and said calmly. Themand of the current headmaster of Hogwarts had a strong binding effect on these portraits. Under Dumbledore''s intervention, the portraits returned to their own frames. Armando Dippet and Phineas ck''s portraits were next to each other, but they looked in different directions and ignored each other. They were like two proud lions who refused to admit defeat.

    Even after her death, the respected Dilys Derwent asked the key question on behalf of all the headmasters,

    "Do you know what the purpose of that kid breaking into the ck Manor is, Albus?"

    "Oh, this question¨C" Dumbledore took off the half-moon sses on his nose, rubbed his brow lightly, and smiled helplessly,

    "I have some guesses, and I think my guesses are very close to the truth."

    "What is it?" Dilys Derwent asked eagerly. She was a woman with a kind face and a neat bun. She wore a white nurse''s uniform and a red cross on her chest. She was the only headmaster who had also been a healer at St. Mungo''s Hospital.

    "It doesn''t matter, Dilys¨C" Dumbledore, who got the answer, leaned back on the chair and said tiredly, "What matters is that he did it."

    The topic of Bryan Watson seemed to have been discussed more than once in this office. The portraits knew how much Albus Dumbledore valued the young man. Seeing Bryan make another almost ''crazy'' move, their hearts were covered with ayer of gloom.

    "By the way¨C" The kind Dilys Derwent hesitated, "Could it be a mistake, Albus, ording to what you said, the dark wizard hid his magic very well. Maybe, I mean, you have to admit, everyone has a blind eye, right?"

    "I don''t have to rely on appearance and magic to recognize who a person is, Dilys¨C" Dumbledore''s deep blue eyes sparkled, and he said gently. He put his sses back on his nose, and looked at the photo frame behind Armando Dippet.

    The office fell silent again. ording to the opinions of most headmasters, they all thought that Dumbledore should take action and send Bryan to Azkaban, but in fact, they all knew that even with the Dementors guarding, Azkaban might not be able to hold this level of wizard.

    "Evil is evil, Albus." Armando Dippet said firmly, "We should strangle the evil in the bud while we still have the ability to do so, Albus, if Azkaban can''t hold that disobedient brat, then you should kill him directly!"

    "I see it now!"

    Dippet''s suggestion immediately detonated Phineas, and he sprayed saliva at Dippet, "You are jealous, right? jealous that the great Slytherin House has produced another outstanding genius, you want to destroy him!"

    Phineas ck in the potrait was a middle-aged man with a thin face and a goatee. He wore a green robe with silver snakes, and a ring with the ck family crest.

    Phineas''s defense hit too many people, and many headmasters stood up and used Slytherin, and Armando Dippet was even more straightforward, "Great Slytherin House? Huh, I think you must not forget the panic that the Chamber of Secrets left by Slytherin brought to Hogwartsst year!"

    He pointed at Phineas with his finger, and reminded him of the incident that had almost destroyed the school.

    "That chamber is not that simple!" Phineas retorted, "Albus has told us that the chamber has a different magical environment. To be honest, I am very grateful to Bryan Watson. He cleared the nder that has been circting in the wizarding world for a thousand years against Szar Slytherin himself. Slytherin himself left the chamber and the Basilisk for a different purpose, not to ughter the young wizards in the school!"

    Phineas''s statement was the conclusion after a joint discussion, not his own opinion, so Armando Dippet did not refute, but remained silent. He knew that Dumbledore had indeed confirmed Phineas''s words, and that he had found evidence to support them.

    As if he had won a holy war, Phineas straightened his chest, looked at Albus Dumbledore with gleaming eyes, and said proudly,

    "Do you want to hear my opinion, Albus, about Bryan Watson?"

    "I look forward to hearing your insights, Phineas," Dumbledore smiled sincerely and said, "I''m sure your wisdom will show us the way."

    Phineas, who was praised by Dumbledore, was inspired. He seemed to return to the days when he was the current headmaster of Hogwarts and had the power. He nced at Armando Dippet, who was also looking at him coldly, cleared his throat,

    "First of all, there is a question that needs your honest answer, Albus¨C"

    After getting Dumbledore''s nod, Phineas ck''s small eyes showed a shrewd light, "Up to now, Albus, can you still deal with Bryan Watson?"

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 0166 Heir

    0166 Heir

    As the first headmaster from Slytherin in many years, and the most unpopr headmaster in Hogwarts history, Phineas ck''s question was not only curious to himself, but every former headmaster on the portrait showed a strong curiosity. They all stared at the current headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, who was sitting behind his desk, waiting for his answer.

    Dumbledore was not surprised by this question, and he also knew very well what Headmaster ck would say to him next. He had a calm and serene expression on his face, as if he had already anticipated everything that would happen tonight.

    "If you mean to suppress him in a duel¨C"

    After thinking for a moment, Dumbledore still answered the question, "Maybe I can still do it for now, but I''m afraid this situation won''tst long." He spoke in a low and gentle tone, without any arrogance or fear.

    "Only suppress?" Armando Dippet frowned and said dissatisfiedly, "We all know your humbleness, Albus, but you don''t have to be like this in front of us."

    He was the oldest and longest-serving headmaster of Hogwarts, and he had worked with Dumbledore for a long time so he had high regards for Dumbledore''s abilities.

    "Not humble, Professor Armando,"

    Dumbledore said gently, with a touch of appreciation in his tone, "He has improved a lotpared to a few months ago. To be honest, I didn''t expect him to improve so fast. Bryan''s Inferno Curse was very impressive tonight. The extremely stable spell structure made the Inferno, a difficult-to-control me, show a shocking structural stability. Even I can''t easily eliminate such an Inferno. If his magical attainments can maintain such an astonishing speed of growth, I''m afraid it won''t be long before I run out of tricks."

    Dumbledore''s answer satisfied Phineas in the frame, but the problem was that he was too satisfied and felt uneasy. He knew that Dumbledore was not exaggerating, and that Bryan Watson was indeed a formidable wizard at a young age.

    "So, Albus¨C" Phineas said uneasily, "What about the young man''s soul¨C"

    He wanted to know if Bryan had sumbed to the dark side.

    "Still intact," Dumbledore smiled inexplicably, "This is the only thing that makes me feel relieved tonight."

    He did not exin how he knew this, but he seemed to have a secret way of detecting Bryan''s soul state.

    There was another brief silence. The former headmasters of Hogwarts on the wall were all powerful wizards with extensive experience in their lifetimes. They were all thinking, among the outstanding young people they had seen in their days, which one couldpare with Bryan Watson. They could not think of anyone who had such a talent, such a potential, and such a mystery.

    "¨CSo,"

    Phineas was proud and showed a sense of wisdom,

    "We don''t have much choice, do we, Albus? Winning over that young man, and let him join our cause, is the only choice. Otherwise, oh, forgive me for being blunt, Albus, if we anger that young man, he decides to join forces with the Dark Lord whose name is not even dared to be mentioned, then we are doomed. One of them has won over the direct descendants of most of the pure-blood families in the wizarding world, and the other is notorious in the underground world where the ancient secret witchcraft sects are active. To be honest, if they join forces, they can walk into Hogwarts openly, and you can''t stop them, Albus."

    He painted a terrible future, and moreover, the possibility of this terrible future happening was not low, if they mishandled it.

    "That child is very kind,"

    Unexpectedly, Mrs. Dilys spoke up for Bryan,

    "We all know that child''s style. He has almost no opponents in the wizarding world, but he has been restraining himself for years, trying not to hurt others. And, he has been supporting the Muggle orphanage that raised him."

    "The only reason he keeps restraint is Albus Dumbledore."

    Armando Dippet said sharply, "He respects and fears Dumbledore, but he does not trust or follow him. He has his own agenda and his own secrets,. He is a wild card, and we cannot afford to lose him to the other side."

    "Not so."

    At this time, a hoarse and husky voice sounded slowly in the office, attracting everyone''s attention to a shelf behind Dumbledore.

    "Bryan Watson, that child, I remember very clearly¨C"

    The ragged and wrinkled Sorting hat on the shelf shook its tip and said slowly,

    "He was probably the most difficult child to assign in my thousand years. A small body, but with an unimaginable mature mind. It was difficult, really difficult¨C"

    The Sorting Hat''s speech aroused Dumbledore''s great interest. He turned around and facing the Sorting Hat, he eagerly said,

    "Can you please tell me more?"

    "Of course, no problem, Headmaster Dumbledore," the Sorting Hat muttered in a mumbling tone, as if he was reluctant to reveal his secrets,

    "We all know what qualities the four founders value. Gentlemen, for a thousand years, I have peered into the souls of countless little wizards. Most of the children, their thoughts and qualities are very easy to figure out. I don''t have to spend much effort to send them where they belong. There are also more difficult ones, such as Harry Potter. Slytherin and Gryffindor will both help him have an unlimited future. However that Potter can''t bepared with Bryan Watson."

    "What do you mean?" Dumbledore''s curiosity became stronger, and he realized that he had made a mistake. He had been trying to see through Bryan Watson''syers of disguise to see his soul, but he had overlooked the fact that he had already had a chance to glimpse the real Bryan Watson. The Sorting Hat had seen him more clearly than anyone else, and he could share his insights with others.

    "Very interesting, extremely rare, unprecedented, headmasters"

    The Sorting Hat chuckled, his voice full of wonder and amusement, "Gryffindor''s courage, Ravenw''s wisdom, Hufflepuff''s kindness, Slytherin''s ambition. He has them all, gentlemen, Bryan Watson has it all. It''s a wonderful thing, Dumbledore, if Potter can pull out the Sword of Gryffindor from me, proving that he is a true heir of Gryffindor, then Bryan Watson should be called the heir of Hogwarts. He has all the qualities that the four founders value!"

    There was silence in the room after the Sorting Hat''s speech. The headmasters were stunned by his words, and they looked at each other with disbelief.

    "All the qualities that the four founders value."

    Dumbledore also fell into some kind of surprise, his eyes became hollow, and he whispered softly, as if he was talking to himself,

    "Yes, this is indeed surprising."

    "But you put him in Slytherin, didn''t you?"

    Armando Dippet, who had the lowest tolerance for evil, once again sharply expressed his opinion, his voice full of usation and resentment, "This means that in that guy''s heart, ambition always outweighs everything!"

    "Not so, respected Headmaster Dippet¨C"

    The Sorting Hat once again refuted Armando''s words, and he said with a hoarse voice and a chuckle, as if he was enjoying the debate,

    "At that time, I mean, when a child from the Muggle world enters the wonderful magical world for the first time, he needs ambition, that ambition for power, to protect himself from harm. But this does not mean that ambition dominates in that child''s soul. His entry into Slytherin is just a specific choice at a specific age. if that child is sorted again today. he could be anywhere, gentlemen¨C"

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 0167 Dumbledoreâ€™s Reflection

    0167 Dumbledore¡¯s Reflection

    "he could be anywhere¨C"

    Dumbledore looked thoughtful and solemn as he repeated the words of the Sorting Hat. Although the portraits on the wall, were eager to discuss the inexplicable concept of ''Hogwarts Heirs'', It was a title that sounded both ridiculous and intriguing, but they all tried hard not to speak, afraid of disturbing Dumbledore''s thoughts.

    "I must thank you,"

    After a long time, Dumbledore''s tone became cheerful again, and he nodded to the Sorting Hat from his chair,

    "The wisdom of the four founders is the most precious treasure of Hogwarts, and tonight, it prevented me from making a terrible mistake."

    After saying these words, Dumbledore got up from his chair and walked around the table, pacing in the circr office. He looked at each portrait with a thoughtful expression, as if he was trying to find something in their eyes.

    "A specific choice at a specific age, Those are really wise words,"

    Dumbledore smiled and said, "Even I can''tpletely avoid being prejudiced, can I?"

    He didn''t need anyone to answer, Dumbledore was just talking to himself.

    "¨CBryan and Tom are very simr, this is what I have been worrying about, this worry is so strong, that even though I know that he and Tom arepletely different people, but I dare notpletely let go of my heart. I have to admit that Bryan being in Slytherin House magnified my attention to the simrities between him and Tom, but in fact, this is a terrible prejudice!"

    "That''s the truth, Albus!" Phineas took advantage of the opportunity and said happily,

    "We all know that powerful wizards have privileges, that kid sometimes despises thew, and disdains the rules, but he is always kind, and what happened tonight is a strong proof that those increasingly ipetent guys in The Ministry of Magic can''t stand his toss!"

    Phineas had a notorious reputation in his lifetime as a former headmaster who was known for his entricity and arrogance. He often shed with his colleagues over trivial matters and insulted them behind their backs. However, he did have some truth in what he said about Bryan Watson''s rebellious nature. The young wizard had been involved in several incidents that challenged the authority of The Ministry of Magic and caused trouble for Hogwarts. But he was also a talented student who had shown great potential in magic. So the former headmasters kept silent, neither agreeing nor refuting his words.

    And this was very encouraging for Phineas. He looked around triumphantly with his ck eyes spinning around.

    "For such a talented young man, we should forgive his trivial mistakes, and patiently guide him back to the right path."

    "What makes you so tolerant and friendly tonight, Headmaster ck?"

    Dumbledore stopped at the golden branch where Fawkes was perched. He looked up at Phineas''s portrait with a gentle smile.

    "My meaning is very clear, isn''t it?"

    Phineas felt confused by Dumbledore''s sudden change of attitude. He forgot to respect Dumbledore and shouted,

    "As long as we can be lenient with Bryan Watson''s mistakes over the years then Albus my unworthy great-grandson-"

    "Ah ha!"

    Armando Dippet who had been sneering at Phineas for a long time eximed, "I knew you were plotting this! The conspiracy is exposed!"

    Phineas''s attempt to confuse the audience aroused anger among some of his colleagues who felt insulted by his words. They started to hurl usations at him, "You are jealous gentlemen! The noble ck family willst forever! The noble ck family will never have traitors!"

    "Please calm down everyone! If you continue to quarrel Argus wille to our door!"

    Dumbledore shook his silver-white eyebrows looking a bit helpless.

    "I think you must understand Headmaster ck,"

    Dumbledore who had regained his calm said in a stern tone "The sinsmitted by Sirius are unforgivable right?"

    "I was just about to talk to you about this!"

    Phineas was squeezed by his colleagues on both sides blurted out trying to defend himself. He carefully and smoothly said to Dumbledore,

    "My great-grandson, you all say that he joined the Dark Lord who can''t be named, betrayed the Potters, but you can''t produce any evidence, can you, Dumbledore, that kid grew up under your eyes, you know what kind of person he is, you see how close he is with that Potter, he can''t betray the Potters, there must be a misunderstanding!"

    The voice of Phineas Nigellus ck was loud and hoarse, echoing in the circr office of the headmaster. His face was twisted with anger and pain, as he red at the portraits of former headmasters.

    "Ridiculous!"

    Unsurprisingly, the person who refuted the words was Headmaster Armando Dippet, who had a long white beard and a pointed hat. He looked furious and disgusted, as he snapped at ck,

    "Your great-grandson sent away thirteen innocent souls with a curse in broad daylight, one of whom was his best friend!"

    Effectivemunication and exchange stopped, and meaningless conflicts broke out again. More than a dozen former headmasters crowded into Armando''s painting frame and wanted to separate Dippet and ck, but somehow, this fight turned into a melee. They shouted, pushed, and pulled each other, creating a chaotic scene in the wall of portraits.

    This time, Dumbledore didn''t stop them immediately, he frowned and muttered softly, "Even in that era full of lies and betrayals, this is a puzzling thing, the truth-? but the crime facts are clear."

    "Albus¨C"

    Dilys Derwent was the only headmaster who didn''t join the portrait melee, she called Dumbledore''s name, "What are you going to do about Bryan Watson?"

    Dumbledore''s eyebrows rxed, ignoring the portrait''s melee and returned to his seat, resuming the posture of sping his fingers and staring at the dome, falling into a long thought.

    Bryan didn''t expect that the wall of fire couldpletely stop Albus Dumbledore and his phoenix, he just hoped that the magic could buy him a few seconds. In the next five minutes, he almost didn''t stay in one ce for more than three seconds, constantly apparating, constantly erasing the traces of magic, until the end, even he, who had a considerable amount of magic reserves, was exhausted by this crazy apparition.

    "They really didn''te after me?"

    Bryan stopped in a jungle that he had been to during his previous missions, leaning on a towering giant tree and panting slightly. He felt a surge of relief and disbelief, as he checked his surroundings for any signs of pursuit.

    "Hmph, what if they know?" Bryan straightened up and smiled slightly, "They were still deceived."

    The dazzling starlight from the infinite starry sky and the cool air of the original jungle at night calmed Bryan''s slightly agitated mood, and after thinking about it, he changed into his usual wizard robe and apparated back to Hogsmeade.

    Hogsmeade in the night was looming in the thick fog, and on themercial street that runs through the center of the vige, there were many vague shadows in the fog, most of these guys were also regrs in the underworld, and they came here for trading ormissioning, but they didn''t want to be exploited by brokers like Fawley, so they hoped to use Albus Dumbledore''s name to deter the trading partners from messing around.

    Bryan ignored these wizards, he walked past the elegant wizard clothing store and residences, and headed towards the Three Broomsticks.

    "Hic-, woo-woo¨C"

    Just as Bryan was about to reach the alley of his temporary residence, he heard a humming sound from the dark alley on the other side of the pub, and the voice sounded strange but familiar.

    After thinking for a moment, Bryan walked towards the alley where the sound came from, and saw a huge and honest figure who was drunk leaning on the edge of several trashcans, groaning and mumbling.

    "Hagrid, howe it''s you?!"

    Bryan looked surprised, he ran over, held his breath to cut off the stinky smell, and then bent down and lifted Hagrid''s furry beard, which was stained with beers and tears.

    "What made you drink so much at night? And what made you cry alone?"

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 0168 Comparisons and Aftermath

    0168 Comparisons and Aftermath

    Ever since the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts frequently had idents, no wizard could hold the position for more than a year and retire safely, which became a consensus among the young wizards. At the beginning of each new school year, identifying how good thetest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is has almost be a reserved program at the start of the school year. It was a topic that sparked heated debates and lively discussions among the students, who eagerly awaited to see what surprises the new professor would bring to them and how long will he be able to teach.

    As usual, the poprity of this topic wouldst until the end of the first month of school, before gradually having a conclusion that everyone agrees on.

    But this year''s situation was different from the past. Before the ss started, Professor Lupin, who showed his hand on the Hogwarts Express by saving Harry from a Dementor, received widespread praise within a week after the ss started. He was calm, gentle, and knowledgeable, and he taught the students how to deal with various dark creatures, such as boggarts. He also gave them the rare ''practical'' ss on how to defend themselves against the dark arts and creatures.

    Of course, the least popr Slytherin House still maintained the style of the past. They couldn''t find any fault with Professor Lupin''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss, so they simply made an issue of Lupin''s in dress, which they thought was shabby and poor. They also spread rumors about it, but they could only amuse themselves, and not many people would have any opinions on Professor Lupin because of this.

    Most of the students admired and respected him, and some even had a crush on him.

    Now, among the young wizards, the most popr topic was, Professor Remus Lupin and Professor Bryan Watson, who of them was the most ''professional'' professor in the past decade.

    This was not something that could be rified in one or two sentences. Even within Gryffindor, there was a lot of controversy on this topic. Some preferred Professor Lupin, who followed the curriculum and taught them the basics, while others favored Professor Watson, who was more adventurous and creative, and taught them some simple but advanced and unconventional magic.

    "There is no doubt about the professionalism¨C"

    Fred, who had been silent for the whole night, leaned on the cold firece and said, "But obviously we value more¨C"

    "Professor Watson!"

    The twins eximed in unison. Fred and George were proud of their silentmunication. They sprang up and bumped their elbows in the air with a grin. They liked Professor Watson more because he was more adventurous and thrilling. He often brought strange and dangerous creatures to the ss, such as eight-eyed spiders and inferi.

    Harry, Ron, who was sitting on the sofa, and Hermione, who was lying on the wooden table and previewing several subjects at the same time, were not surprised at all. They all knew why Fred and George liked Professor Watson more. For them, boggarts were obviously not as interesting as eight-eyed spiders.

    "Neville and Dean like Professor Lupin more¨C"

    Ron carefully fed the strengthening potion especially made for magical beasts to the listless Scabbers in his hand, but Scabbers seemed to dislike it very much. He twisted and turned in Ron''s hand, trying to escape, causing most of the potion in the small bottle to be spilled on his wizard robe. Ron cursed under his breath and tried to wipe off the sticky liquid, but it only made it worse. He looked at his robe with dismay and sighed.

    "At least they can deal with the boggarts in the closet, but Professor Watson-"

    Ron suddenly shuddered and said with lingering fear, "During the summer vacation, Mom and Dad took us to visit the mummies in the pyramids. That night I had a nightmare. I remembered the inferi that Professor Watson brought. The rotten flesh and bones-, That was so creepy and disgusting. They tried to grab me and drag me into the water. I will probably never forget it in my life!"

    Hermione, who was writing quickly at the desk, suddenly smiled with her lips pursed. She lifted her hair and looked at Ron,

    "Seriously, Ron, I thought when you went on stage, the boggart would turn into a inferi or a Basilisk, but what you are most afraid of turned out to be a spider?"

    The ''deep'' conversation on this issuested for about ten minutes. In the end, Harry and Hermione both figured out the reason why Ron was afraid of spiders. It turned out that when Ron was three years old, his brother Fred had turned his teddy bear into a giant spider, and Ron had been traumatized ever since. In a burst of cheerfulughter, the unhappy Ron identally poked the mouth of the strength potion into Scabbers nose. As a result, after a series of painful screams, Scabbers gave Ron a bite, which made Ron even more depressed. He looked at Harry with a slumped face and said,

    "It''s time to talk about your opinion, Harry!"

    "Uh-"

    Harry hesitated and didn''t speak, but this waspletely pretended.

    Hermione appreciated Professor Lupin, who taught ording to the formal textbook step by step, while Ron liked Professor Watson more. This is not surprising. Professor Watson almost saved half of Ron''s brothers and sisters, and gave him a very exquisitememorative coin of merlin.

    How to say it, when facing Professor Lupin, Harry would feel a strange sense of intimacy from his actions and that was very different.

    He didn''t know what the reason for this feeling was. Maybe it was because Professor Lupin saved his life on the Hogwarts Express, or maybe it was because Professor Lupin''s gentle temperament that was popr among others, but even so, if he had to choose a winner between Professor Watson and Professor Lupin, he would undoubtedly choose Professor Watson.

    The reason for making this decision is not only because of Professor Watson''s help in the Chamber of Secrets incidentst semester, but also because during the summer vacation, he identally learned of Professor Watson''s life experience, which made Harry feel that he and Professor Watson had a simr ''fate''.

    However, this reason cannot be said to others. He cannot reveal Professor Watson''s important past and his privacy without permission, even to Ron and Hermione.

    The next morning, as soon as they entered the hall for breakfast, all the young wizards felt an indescribable depression. Soon, the young wizards realized that this depression came from the front of the hall, the professor''s seat.

    Except for the absent headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Lupin, almost every professor who came down for breakfast had a newspaper in hand. They ignored the various breakfasts piled up in front of them and only focused on the spread out Daily Prophet. They looked worried and angry, and some even muttered words under their breaths.

    "Is there anything new that we don''t know?"

    Harry and Ron, who werete, quickly noticed something was wrong. They lowered their heads and ran in from the hall, and sat directly on the empty seats next to Hermione.

    They looked around and saw that the atmosphere in the hall was too weird. Everyone''s face was heavy, and the young wizards were discussing in groups of three or two with suppressed voices. The professors also expressed their opinions in low voices. Only the ''beloved'' potions professor was expressionless and calmly dealt with the white porridge on the table. He seemed to be indifferent to the news, or perhaps he was secretly pleased.

    "The Ministry of Magic found ck."

    Hermione said solemnly, but seeing these two stunned and stiff, she quickly added, "But he ran away again. Seamus told us yesterday, oh, he saw it from the Daily Prophet. A muggle nearby saw ck¨C"

    Hermione shook thetest edition of the Daily Prophet in her hand, and pointed to the headline that read: Sirius ck Escapes Again!. Underneath the headline, there was a art picture of a gaunt and ragged man with wild eyes and long hair, who looked like a madman. He was surrounded by several hooded figures, who were shooting spells at him.

    "Today''s newspaper says that ording to the muggle''s report call, the Ministry of Magic''s hitmen went out and found clues. Last night, the hitmen blocked him in front of the ck family''s Manor and fought a fierce battle with him!"

    Harry snatched the Daily Prophet from Hermione and read it with Ron.

    The caption said: ck was seriously injured and fled in embarrassment. The Ministry of Magic''s Auror Office''s Dawlish was injured in a duel with Sirius ck. At present, the Aurors and Dementors are still pursuing. Please keep calm, the residents of the wizarding world.

    "Ah!"

    "The Daily Prophet is still the same, always vague when ites to major issues!" Ron turned his face away with disgust, and said, "They don''t tell us anything useful. Where did they find him? How did he escape?"

    Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "The problem is not here, Ron. Look at this!" Hermione carefully took out a copy of The Times and stuffed it under the table to Harry, whose face was a little dark.

    Harry, who was curious and anxious, took the copy of The Times from Hermione and looked at it. He gasped when he saw the front page. There was arge photo of a huge explosion, with mes and smoke rising from a building. The building looked like a mansion, with arge gate and a coat of arms on the wall.

    The caption said: Gas Explosion Destroys Historic Manor in London. No Casualties Reported.

    Hermione nodded and said, "Except for me, I''m afraid no one in the school is subscribing to the muggle newspapers."

    Hermione pointed to a small article on the side of the photo, which said: Witness ims to See Strange Lights and Sounds Before the Explosion. Police Dismisses It as a Hoax. Hermione said, "The Daily Prophet did not publish the details of the arrestst night, but the muggle newspapers recorded the scene. The muggle government imed that there was a gas explosion. This excuse is not new, but look¨C"

    In the picture, The huge searchlight made the dark night bright, and the ground around the deserted small square cracked open with shocking cracks. The edge of the crack showed a melted crystalline state, and faint smoke could be seen. In the distant alley, arge section of the road surface was blown up, and next to the alley, there was a house with a roof blown off. The scene was like a war zone, with debris and dust everywhere. The muggles who lived nearby must have been terrified by the sudden explosion, and the Ministry of Magic must have had a hard time covering it up.

    "Did ck cause all this?!"

    Ron stared at the muggle newspaper, so shocked that his eyes were about to bulge out, "But the Daily Prophet said that no muggle died!"

    "The muggle newspaper also said that."

    Hermione pointed to a line of text under the picture and said, then she looked at Harry, who was silent, and said solemnly,

    "With the power of one person, he can fight against most of the elites of the Ministry of Magic, and cause such huge destruction, now, we finally know why the Ministry of Magic is so panicked about Sirius ck''s escape!"

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 0169 Lupinâ€™s Visit

    0169 Lupin¡¯s Visit

    "Before ck is caught, Harry, you should stay in the Gryffindormon room every night, and never sneak out of the castle at midnight to find Hagrid, or, break into the Forbidden Forest!"

    Hermione red at Harry sternly, her bushy brown hair framing her worried face. She was clutching a thick book titled Hogwarts: A History in her hands, as if it was a shield against any danger.

    "You talk as if we didn''t take you with us when we went to see Hagrid."

    Ron retorted, his freckled face turning red with annoyance. He nced at Hermione with a bit of displeasure, feeling that she was being too bossy and nagging. He was holding a piece of toast with jam, which he had snatched from the breakfast table before they left the Great Hall.

    Harry didn''t intervene in Ron and Hermione''s argument, although his eyes only fell on the photo in the Muggle newspaper, which he had found in his dormitory. It showed a gaunt man with long ck hair and a wild beard, who had a crazed look in his eyes. The caption read: Sirius ck: The Most Wanted Man in Britain. He felt a few strange gazes looking at him, the owners of those eyes were the same as Ron''s ''Pure Blood Heirs'', they had already known ck''s purpose of escaping from prison, but they didn''t publicize it in the school because of the warning from their families.

    "I know¨C"

    Harry interrupted the argument with a dull voice, tearing his eyes away from the photo. He folded the newspaper and stuffed it into his backpack, hoping that no one else would see it. He knew that ck was after him, and that he had to be careful.

    ck''s horror reminded Harry of the ce that Professor Watson had taken him to during the summer vacation, which made Harry realize that the wizarding world was not only beautiful and magical, but also had the darkness and filth that the Muggle world had.

    "I''ll try to stay in the castle after dark."

    Harry said, trying to sound calm and reassuring. He didn''t want to worry his friends, or to let them know how scared he was.

    Harry''s performance satisfied Hermione, who nodded approvingly, while Ron seemed very surprised, but he also knew that this was not something to joke about, he shrugged innocently and didn''t say anything, burying his head to deal with the rest of his breakfast.

    The first ss of the third year this morning was the herbology ss shared by Hufflepuff and Gryffindor.

    Because the conversation at breakfast dyed a little time, this resulted in Harry and the other two having to run all the way to Professor Sprout''s greenhouse, which was located at the edge of the school grounds. They had to cross thergewn, where they could see the Quidditch pitch, the ck Lake, and the Forbidden Forest in the distance.

    Harry felt a pang of longing, as he remembered the times he had flown on his broom, or explored the forest with his friends. He hoped that he would be able to do those things again soon, without having to worry about ck or the Dementors.

    On thewn of the schoolyard, the first-year freshmen were learning how to control flying brooms under the guidance of Madame Hooch, the flying instructor. She was a strict and stern woman, who had short gray hair and yellow eyes, like a hawk. She was blowing her whistle and shoutingmands, as the students tried to mount their brooms and lift off the ground.

    Harry looked at the younger wizards who were swaying in the air ten feet above the ground, and couldn''t help but recall the situation when he first touched the flying broom in his first year. At that time, he made Malfoy suffer a big loss in front of everyone, when he had caught the Remembrall that Malfoy stole from Neville. He was also invited by Professor McGonagall to join the Gryffindor Quidditch team as a Seeker, the youngest in a century. He felt a surge of pride, as he remembered the thrill of flying and catching the Golden Snitch.

    "I hope ck can convince Wood¨C"

    The past good memories made Harry feel better, and Harry muttered softly, as he neared the greenhouse.

    "Harry!"

    Just then, Ron, who was following him like a bodyguard on his left and right, suddenly stopped and pointed in a direction and eximed.

    He had spotted Hagrid, the half-giant gamekeeper towards his hut.

    "Oh, I''m going to see what''s going on!"

    Harry said, feeling a sudden curiosity and excitement

    After looking around to see if anyone was paying attention to him, he bent down and ran towards Hagrid''s hut, which was a small wooden house with a pumpkin patch and a vegetable garden. He hoped that he could get there before the ss started, and that Professor Sprout wouldn''t notice his absence.

    "You just promised us, Harry!"

    Looking at the quickly disappearing figure, Hermione shouted angrily. She felt frustrated by Harry''s recklessness and impulsiveness. She couldn''t believe that he would just run off like that, without thinking of the consequences.

    "It''s daytime, Hermione, not night!"

    Harry didn''t look back, just waved his hand. He knew that Hermione meant well. He didn''t think that anything bad would happen to him in broad daylight, and he trusted Hagrid.

    Ron shrugged innocently again and followed Harry, while Hermione, stomping her feet in anger, sneaked a nce at the thin and long gold chain exposed under her cor, looked around guiltily, and ran towards Hagrid''s hut with her bulging backpack. She didn''t want to leave Harry and Ron alone, and she also wanted to see what was going on.

    Bryan pushed open the window of his bedroom, squinting his eyes against the cool breeze in the morning, and the fatigue of not sleeping all night gradually left his body. He felt refreshed and energized, ready to face the new day.

    He looked out of the window, and admired the view of the small and quaint vige of Hogsmeade, the only all-wizarding settlement in Britain. Although it was still early in the morning, the hardworking local vigers of Hogsmeade had already started their day''s work. Across a few houses, he could clearly hear the footsteps and the sound of wooden wheels on the stone bs on themercial street. He could also hear the chatter andughter of the customers and the shopkeepers, who were exchanging greetings and news, and the asional cry of a child or an animal.

    The hillside in the distance was still shrouded in a hazy white mist, but the mist was quickly melting under the increasingly dazzling sunlight. A house standing on the gentle slope with a hint of mystery was looming in the mist.

    Bryan, who had sobered up a lot, withdrew his gaze and turned to look at the half-blood giant who was sleeping on his bed, with a hint of helplessness in his eyes.

    Latest night, Bryan, who had escaped from the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore, dragged his tired body back to his temporary residence in Hogsmeade, but unexpectedly found that Hagrid, who was drunk, was lying next to a trash can in another alley. He had seen him stumbling and mumbling, with a bottle of Firewhisky in his hand and tears in his eyes.

    "That gray hippogriff, Draco, did he forgot all my advice fromst year, he should be grateful that Buckbeak didn''t go for his neck¨C"

    Perhaps because Hagrid, who had giant blood running in his veins, had a different physique from normal wizards, the sobering potions that Bryan concocted couldn''t make Hagrid fully awake, so he had no choice but to let Hagrid stay in his small and shabby room for one night.

    After retrieving the Daily Prophet from the mailbox, Bryan returned to the dark and narrow living room, flipping through the newspaper while eating alone. He had paid a subscription fee to the newspaper, and had asked the delivery owl to bring it to him every morning. He wanted to keep up with the news and the events in the wizarding world, and to look for any clues or hints that could help him in hismissions.

    "ck escaped with serious injuries, Elite Auror of the Auror Office, John Dawlish, was wounded bravely, and is currently recovering at St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries."

    Bryan spread raspberry jam on the soft and yellow toasted bread, then rolled it up and put it in his mouth. When his hungry stomach felt the filling of food, thefort feedback made Bryan sigh with relief. He bought the bread and the jam from the bakery, and toasted the bread with his wand. He wanted to have a simple and quick breakfast, and to save his time and energy for more important things.

    "Elite Auror Dawlish?" Bryan chewed the bread while rolling his eyes, recalling when he had injured this guy named Dawlishst night.

    Knock knock knock¨C

    The knocking on the door outside the hall suddenly brought Bryan back to his senses. His prating eyes saw through the walls and found out who the visitor was. He walked quickly to open the door, looked at the warm smile of Remus Lupin, squinted his eyes, and asked calmly,

    "What, is there any emergency in the school? And, how did you figure out that I live here?"

    Although he was still wearing the washed white, patched wizard robe, Lupin''splexion was much better than two or three weeks ago, which finally made him look more like an energetic middle-aged wizard, rather than a beggar who had no next meal.

    "Don''t be nervous, Bryan." Remus said gently, "Everything is normal in the school, and Harry''s side is also fine. -Um, won''t you invite me in to talk, Bryan?"

    "I''m just afraid you''ll find it not decent enough here¨C"

    Bryan, who knew that Potter''s father had cuckolded Professor Snape, and that Lupin had been James Potter''s friend, so he had a bit of coldness in his tone, but he still turned around and walked back to the living room, inviting Remus in.

    Lupin, who had lived a difficult and dirty life as a werewolf for half his life, was ustomed to the wizards'' resistance and disgust. He was not offended by Bryan''s slight coldness. He only felt a bit strange. Thest time they met, Bryan was very cordial to him and spoke politely. It was probably because of the huge bounty of fifty thousand galleons on Sirius ck''s head.

    As a werewolf, Lupin''s manners and etiquette were already considered elegant and noble. He walked into the house and stopped at the junction of the hall and the living room, smiling at Bryan who continued to eat. He noticed the newspaper on the table, and the headline about ck''s escape.

    "Actually, it was Albus who told me you live here."

    "Oh, really, then did Headmaster Dumbledore kindly tell you how he knew I lived here?"

    He was not surprised that Dumbledore could figure out where he lived. Hogsmeade was under his eyes. If he couldn''t figure out even this, then Albus Dumbledore wouldn''t be feared by so many people.

    "Rosmerta, the owner of the Three Broomsticks pub, is a friend of Albus¨C"Remus said gently.

    Bryan rolled his eyes, choked by the dough in his throat, which meant that as soon as he rented the house here, Albus Dumbledore knew the rent for the house.

    "Actually, I came here for another reason as well¨C"

    Remus pointed to the bedroom and said, "He hopes I can help bring Hagrid back to school."

    Bryan put down his fork, raised his eyebrows, and smiled mockingly, "Is that all?"

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 0170 Favor

    0170 Favor

    Lupin gave a bitter smile and looked at the young wizard across the table with admiration. He knew that Bryan had seen through his intentions, but he still hoped to persuade him to ept his request.

    "There is one more thing I need to ask you, Bryan."

    Lupin said earnestly, waiting for Bryan''s response.

    "Let''s hear it, Remus."

    Bryan said, gesturing to the empty chair in front of him. He poured a cup of tea for Lupin and offered it to him.

    Although he had some resentment towards the man lupin wanted to avenge who had cuckolded Professor Snape, whom he respected, Bryan did not want to be too narrow-minded. He was willing to listen to what Lupin had to say.

    Lupin hesitated for a moment, then nodded gratefully and took the seat opposite Bryan. He felt the warmth of the tea in his throat, which calmed his nerves a bit.

    Although he was respected by the children in the school, He was well aware that he was an unwee werewolf in the wizarding world. He appreciated that Bryan, who knew his secret, was still able to talk to him civilly. There were not many wizards who would do that.

    "There is something that worries me, Bryan. I hope you can do me a favor." Lupin said in a low voice, meeting Bryan''s gaze.

    Bryan leaned his chin on his hands and listened quietly, without giving any indication of his thoughts.

    "You know, Bryan, I turn into a werewolf every full moon night." Lupin said matter-of-factly, as if he was talking about the weather.

    "I know that, Remus. And I also know that you can''t teach when that happens." Bryan said, raising his eyebrows. "Do you want me to take over your sses for a few days every month?"

    "No, no, that''s not it. Dumbledore has already arranged that. Professor Snape will temporarily rece me during those days."

    Lupin said quickly, as if he was afraid that Bryan would refuse him because of that. Bryan smiled, thinking that his old professor would finally get to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He wondered how Snape would cope with the curse that seemed to haunt that position, and whether he wouldst a full year.

    "The first full moon after I joined Hogwarts will be at the beginning of next month. In a few days, I will start taking small doses of a diluted wolfsbane potion, as prescribed by Professor Snape. But he told me that since I have never taken this potion before, it might not work as well as expected. It might not suppress my aggressionpletely. So I told Dumbledore about this, and you can imagine, Bryan, how terrible it would be if I lost control in the school. I can''t take that risk."

    Lupin said calmly, as if he was not talking about himself.

    Bryan was silent for a moment, then gave a slight smile and narrowed his eyes.

    "So, the clever Dumbledore must have given you a good suggestion, right?" Bryan asked sarcastically, as he leaned back on his chair and looked at Lupin with a mocking smile.

    "Albus suggested that I find a powerful wizard to watch over me for those two days." Lupin said, hoping that Bryan would catch his hint.

    Lupin gazed at the young wizard sitting opposite him with a sincere expression. "You see, Bryan, I thought you would be the best choice. Minerva and Filius are both excellent wizards, but to be honest, they might get hurt if I lose control of myself. Albus has too many things on his te already, I don''t want to trouble him any further."

    Lupin hoped that Bryan would understand his situation and agree to help him.

    Bryan rolled his eyes inwardly. ''Too many things on his te? More like too many candies in his mouth or too many schemes in his head. Wait a minute, isn''t this another one of his schemes? He''s not trying to pawn me off to Remus, is he?''

    Bryan thought cynically, as he saw through Dumbledore''s ulterior motives.

    Lupin was a kind-hearted werewolf, and he did not like to think ill of others. He believed that Dumbledore''s words were just thoughtful suggestions, but Bryan, who was also very clever, saw through them at once. He realized that the headmaster was not only trying to help Lupin, but also trying to test him, to see if he was willing to get involved with Hogwarts again.

    "Please, Bryan, if you coulde to my office and watch me on the full moon nights every month-" Lupin said with a pleading tone in his voice.

    "I would be very grateful to you!" He added sincerely, looking like he had quickly adapted to his role as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts.

    He did not want to lose this opportunity because of his condition, and he did not want to harm anyone because of his carelessness. He trusted Dumbledore, but he also knew that the headmaster had his own troubles, and he could not depend on him entirely. He needed someone who was powerful enough to restrain him if he went wild, someone who knew him and his situation well, and was not afraid of him or disgusted by him.

    Bryan was quite impressed by the ''junior''s'' dedication, but he was also cautious of the possible consequences.

    He was not as skilled in potions as Professor Snape, who had spent most of his life mastering this field. But he had also learned a lot of potions in his years of making money, and he had never given up this skill after graduating. He suspected that this was a prank by Professor Snape, who wanted to see how Lupin would react. And he did not expect that Dumbledore would use this as an opportunity to test him.

    "I refuse." Bryan saidzily, but before Lupin showed any disappointment, he continued, "I don''t think I need to go to Hogwarts. You can stay with me for those two days of the full moon." He said casually, as if he was inviting Lupin for a cup of tea, not for a risky beast taming.

    Lupin''s face brightened, and his expression became as radiant as the sun.

    He had a Defense Against the Dark Arts ss for the fifth grade this morning, and he had to walk a distance with Hagrid. After thanking him profusely, Lupin followed Bryan to the bedroom. He hoped that he could make it in time for the ss.

    "Wingardium Leviosa." Lupin took out his wand and pointed it at Hagrid on the bed, and then Hagrid, who was sleeping soundly, was lifted up from the bed by his wrist, neck and knee as if he had invisible ropes tied to them.

    Bryan looked at the obviously sagging bed board, and the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily. He wondered how Hagrid had managed to fit in the bed, and how much weight the bed could withstand.

    "By the way, Bryan." Lupin said, as he nced at the Daily Prophet spread out on the table. He saw the headline that caught his attention.

    "Dumbledore told me that the wizard who tried to break into the ck family mansionst night was not ck, but a dark wizard who was after the Ministry of Magic''s reward. I agree with him, we both know ck, and we know he doesn''t have that skill."

    Lupin said, as he looked at Bryan.

    "Oh?" Bryan replied, as he met Lupin''s gaze, smiling calmly.

    "Then, who does Headmaster Dumbledore think that dark wizard is?" Bryan asked sarcastically, as he leaned back on his chair and looked at Lupin with a vague smile.

    "Dumbledore has no idea either." Lupin said honestly, as he shrugged his shoulders.

    "But he confirmed one thing, Sirius ck is not hiding in the old Manor of the ck family."

    Lupin exined before Bryan could ask any questions. "Phineas ck was a former headmaster of Hogwarts, and his portraits are in both the headmaster''s office and the ck family mansion. Last night, Dumbledore asked Headmaster ck to go back to the ck Manor and check, and he confirmed that there was no one alive in that house."

    Lupin said, as he pointed to the Daily Prophet that had a picture of the ck family crest on the front page.

    "Thank you for sharing the news, Lupin. I was nning to ask my friends at the Ministry of Magic about ck''s incidentst night. I think working with you is a smart decision."

    Bryan said, as he picked up the bitter tea to refresh himself. He took a sip, and nodded at Lupin, as he appreciated his honesty and cooperation.

    The sun rose higher in the sky, and cast its golden light on thend. In the alley in front of the house, an unlucky wizard who had vited the temporary management regtions and apparated to Hogsmeade was cursing and paying a fine to an official of the Magical Law Enforcement Department that Bryan had never seen before. But as soon as he turned his head, the officer pocketed the money for himself.

    "So what if you know?" Bryan said indifferently, as he shrugged his shoulders and walked to the door.

    He looked at the distant hill that had be clear under the sunlight, and his eyes sparkled with a faint light. He saw the isted house on the hill that had lost its gloom and revealed its shabbiness. Bryan''s brow moved slightly, and he suddenly felt that the Shrieking Shack was a good ce for that soul curse research. It was quiet, remote, and he did not have to worry about anyone breaking in, nor did he have to worry about Dumbledore spying on him in that house.

    "What does it matter?" Bryan returned to the bedroom, ready to repair the bed board that was crushed by Hagrid. As he turned around, he muttered again, as if he was talking to himself, or to someone who was not there.

    "Please tell me!" At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, in Hagrid''s hut, the gentle and elegant Professor Lupin frowned. He had just finished tucking Hagrid in with a nket, who had drunk himself into a stupor after raiding half of the wine cer of the Three Broomsticks pub. He could hear Hagrid''s loud snores, mixed with asional sobs and murmurs of his beloved hippogriff, Buckbeak, who was doomed to be executed by the Ministry of Magic.

    He turned to look at Harry and Ron, who were as quiet as mice, and Hermione, who was mortified and wished she could disappear. He saw their guilty faces, and he felt angry and disappointed, as he knew that they had skipped their herbology ss, and had broken the school rules, to visit Hagrid.

    "If I remember correctly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, you three should be in Professor Sprout''s herbology ss, not Hagrid''s hut."

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 0172 Help

    0172 Help

    It took about ten minutes before Hermione, who was sweating profusely, finally came in from outside with her backpack and a bucket of water, staggering. As soon as she entered, she saw Harry and Ron sitting on the edge of Hagrid''s bed, looking at her with a strange expression. They had been waiting for her impatiently, wondering what had taken her so long. Hermione felt a wave of panic wash over her, hoping they had not noticed anything unusual.

    "Oh, why are you looking at me like that?"

    She tried to sound casual, but her voice was slightly hoarse. She casually threw her backpack at the foot of the table, and slowly approached them with half a bucket of water.

    "Did you get lost in the water tank, Hermione?"

    Ron frowned in surprise, looking at Hermione''s cheeks wet with sweat, trying to control her breathing. He could not understand why she was so exhausted, as if she had just run a marathon. He also noticed that her hair was more bushy than usual, and had some shiny things stuck in it.

    "We just called you a few times, Hermione, and your hair¡­"

    Harry also raised his eyebrows, pointing to the shiny things in Hermione''s messy hair.

    "Don''t mind that, Harry, it''s just a few beans from the bubble branch."

    Hermione quickly fiddled with her hair, trying to remove the beans without drawing too much attention. She cursed herself for forgetting to check her appearance beforeing in. She had been too busy hiding something else in her backpack.

    "Bubble branch beans?"

    Ron and Harry looked at each other, puzzled. They had never heard of such a thing before.

    However, realizing that the more she said, the more ws she would reveal, Hermione changed the subject. She took Hagrid''s dirty handkerchief from Harry''s hand, washed it in the bucket, and wiped Hagrid''s saliva with one hand while pushing away his beard with the other. This might have tickled Hagrid, who gasped a few times and then sneezed violently. His sneeze was so loud that it shook the whole hut, and made the three friends jump. Hermione hoped that this would distract them from asking more questions.

    "Oh, this is really¡­ I mean, kind of disgusting."

    Ron touched his robe and face with the shiny sticky substance, looking like he was going to throw up. It took some time for Ron to clean himself up, but by then, it was toote to catch up with Professor Sprout''s herbology ss. When Harry and the others returned to the greenhouse, there was not a single student in therge greenhouse, and even Professor Sprout had returned to her office in the castle. Having missed the whole lesson, they knew they would have to face the consequences. They hoped that Professor Sprout would be understanding, and that she would not give them a hard time.

    This morning, the third year Gryffindors had two sses, in addition to Professor Sprout''s herbology ss, they also had to take a charm ss with Professor Flitwick, along with the Hufflepuffs. In order not to get two detentions from two professors on the first Friday of the school year, they had to postpone the apology. They decided to go to Professor Flitwick''s ss first, and exin their situationter.

    It was not until lunchtime that they saw Professor Sprout at the staff table in the Great Hall, but they never had a chance to go up and exin, because all the professors, including the four heads of houses and Professor Lupin, were craning their necks towards Dumbledore. They seemed to be discussing a very serious matter, and they did not notice that almost all the young wizards were attracted by their discussion.

    The students could not hear what they were saying, but they could sense the tension and urgency in their voices. They wondered what was going on, and if it had anything to do with the News they had read in the Daily Prophet that morning.

    "I didn''t hear very clearly¡­"

    Neville whispered to them, as they sat down at the Gryffindor table. Neville had been sitting near the staff table, trying to eavesdrop on the professors'' conversation. He had a worried look on his face, and he kept ncing nervously at the headmaster.

    Neville was easily frightened, and he often imagined the worst possible scenarios. Until the Great Hall was almost empty, the professors did not end their discussion. Harry and the others had to leave the Great Hall first and look for another opportunity.

    As they were making their way back to themon room, Neville said to them, "I only heard a few words from Professor Dumbledore, young wizards, safety, and something about negotiating with the board of governors¡­"

    "Maybe the Daily Prophet this morning made Professor Dumbledore think that ck could break into Hogwarts and ughter us at any time!"

    He said in a trembling voice, remembering the headline that had shocked the whole wizarding world. The short article also said that the Ministry of Magic had failed to recapture ck, and that they had no clue about his whereabouts or his ns. The article suggested that ck was a master of disguise, and that he could be anywhere, even inside Hogwarts.

    "Don''t be silly, Neville!"

    Hermione nced at Harry''s gloomy expression and quickly said, "ck can''t break into Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore said on the first night of school, no disguise can fool the eyes of the Dementors, as long as we stay in school, no one can hurt us!"

    Neville blinked his wide eyes, and from his expression, he seemed to think that the person who did not understand the situation was Hermione.

    It was not until the evening that Harry and Ron, who had finished their day''s sses, finally managed to rush to Professor Sprout''s office. They had been busy all day, attending lessons, doing homework, and practicing Quidditch. They had almost forgotten that they had missed the herbology ss in the morning, and that they had to apologize to the head of Hufflepuff.

    Because Professor Lupin had warned them beforehand, Harry and Ron did not dare to make up any excuses to deceive the head of Hufflepuff. They honestly confessed why they missed the herbology ss, and this honesty also earned them a bit of luck. Professor Sprout did not give them detention, but she asked Harry and Ron to find a way toplete the papers on Bubble branch cultivation and how to safely extract the fruit from the pink pods. She also gave them a stern lecture on the importance of herbology, and the consequences of skipping sses.

    "Bubble branch and fruit¨C"

    Ron looked confused as he came out of Professor Sprout''s office. He scratched his head, trying to remember what they had learned about Bubble branch in the previous sses. He had a vague impression that it was a nt that produced bubbles when touched, and that the fruit was edible, but he could not recall any details. He wondered how they were going to write the papers, and how long it would take them.

    "If my brain wasn''t muddled by Hagrid''s alcoholic breath, Harry, wasn''t Hermione with us to visit Hagrid this morning? How did she get herself covered in beans?"

    He asked Harry, who was equally baffled by Hermione''s strange behavior. They had no idea how Hermione had gotten herself into such a mess, and she went straight to the library after dinner. She didn''t seem to care at all that Professor Sprout might give them three detention, that''s not her style.

    "And, she went straight to the library after dinner,"

    Harry''s face was no less puzzled than Ron''s, he added,

    "She didn''t seem to care at all that Professor Sprout might give us three detention, that''s not her style."

    Hermione was usually very conscientious and diligent about her studies, and she hated to miss any sses or assignments. She had acted very oddly today, and Harry and Ron could not figure out why. They discussed for a while at the office door, but they couldn''te up with a reasonable exnation. It was still early, and after a brief consultation, They decided to go to the library to find Hermione and ask her.

    In order to take care of the flowers and nts, Professor Sprout arranged her office on the first floor of the castle, which was quite a distance from the library. Harry and Ron ran along the corridor on the first floor, and when they reached the entrance hall, Harry''s eyes were drawn to the courtyard, where the moonlight cast a silver glow. Just one nce, he stopped, looking surprised. He saw something that caught his attention, and made him curious.

    "Oh, watch out, Harry!"

    Ron, who was following Harry, did not notice, and his freckled nose and Harry''s back of the head had an intimate contact. He rubbed his sore nose and said unhappily.

    "What''s the matter, Harry? Why did you stop so suddenly?"

    He looked at Harry, who was staring at the courtyard with a fixed expression. He followed Harry''s gaze, and saw what Harry had seen. He was also surprised, and a bit suspicious.

    "Look, Ron!"

    Harry ignored Ron''s grumbling, and quickly pulled him to the side of the door, pointing to the two figures under arge tree with lush branches and leaves in the courtyard, who were talking. They were two people that Harry and Ron did not like at all, and who did not like them either.

    "Snape and Malfoy?" Ron was not surprised, "Are they plotting something?"

    He asked Harry, who nodded in agreement.

    "We can find out."

    Harry quickly pulled out his heirloom invisibility cloak from his backpack. He had inherited the cloak from his father, who had used it to sneak around the castle and y pranks with his friends.

    ording to his usual habit, Harry would usually hide his invisibility cloak under his bed in the dormitory, but the failed experience of tracking Professor Watson during the summer vacation and Professor Watson''s instructions before the start of school made Harry change this habit.

    Harry had tried to follow Professor Watson one night, using his invisibility cloak, but he had been discovered and caught by Professor Watson, who had scolded him and warned him. He told Harry that his invisibility cloak was not perfect, and that there were ways to detect it, or to see through it. He had also suggested Harry to carry his cloak with him, instead of leaving it in his dormitory, where it could be stolen, or tampered with.

    Harry had taken Professor Watson''s words to heart, and he had started to keep his cloak in his pocket, where he could ess it easily, and where he could protect it better.

    Taking advantage of the wind in the courtyard, which masked the sound of their footsteps across the grass, Harry and Ron crouched down and walked lightly and quickly. They did not want to alert Snape or Malfoy, or anyone else who might be around. When they got close enough, Malfoy''s figure became clear, and Harry''s face immediately turned pale with anger.

    "See, Ron, Malfoy is really just pretending!"

    Harry said through gritted teeth. He clenched his fists, feeling a surge of rage and disgust.

    "Shh, Harry, be quiet!"

    Ron nudged Harry''s ribs, signaling him to shut up. He also saw Malfoy''s fake injuries, and he also felt angry. But he knew that they had to be careful, and that they had to listen to Snape and Malfoy''s conversation.

    The conversation in the courtyard wasing to an end. Harry and Ron held their breath, and only heard Snape''s final question from the faint wind. They strained their ears, trying to catch every word that Snape and Malfoy uttered.

    "If you still refuse to tell me who is threatening your parents, Draco"

    Snape''s tone was a bit impatient, but still more humane than when he spoke to other young wizards.

    "Then what do you think I should do to help you?"

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 0173 The Shrieking Shack

    0173 The Shrieking Shack

    Friday was a very important day for the residents of Hogsmeade, especially the first Friday of the new term.

    Because tomorrow, it was the first weekend after the summer vacation, the senior students who had saved up their pocket money during the holidays would flock to the magical vige as soon as the castle gate opened, eager to enjoy its delights. The vigers were ready to make them spend everyst knut in their wallets, and they had prepared various goods and services to attract the young customers.

    Bryan, who had stayed indoors all morning, could hear the bustle on the main road a few dozen feet away, where the shopkeepers and vendors were busy setting up their stalls and disys.

    Madam Rosmerta, thendy of the Three Broomsticks pub, was busy filling the wine cer that had almost been emptied by Hagrid. The owners of the Honeydukes candy shop, Ambrosius Flume and his wife, were changing the billboard of their products, adding some new vors and discounts to entice the sweet-toothed students. Mr. Bance, who had lost to Bryan in a game of chess, sat on a carriage passing through the street, transporting thetest magic items from his family''s alchemy workshop, such as potions, fireworks, and prank gadgets.

    The whole vige was bathed in a joyful and prosperous atmosphere, and even the tedious work of repairing the house made Bryan do it with enthusiasm.

    The previous owner of the house was the supplier of food for the Hogwarts kitchen, and before he left, he gave Bryan some of the food stored in the cer, which saved him a lot of trouble. The house was spacious and cozy, but it needed some renovation and decoration to suit Bryan''s taste.

    When Bryan fixed thest piece of broken ss on the window, he turned around and saw the Shrieking Shack, standing on the hillside, looming in his sight. Bryan, who was covered in dust, thought for a moment and decided to take advantage of the momentum and tidy up his reserved research base.

    The breeze in thete summer and autumn was no longer as hot as during the summer vacation, and Bryan, who felt like he was on a pic, climbed up the green grassy hillside with a rxed mood. The wind that brought the fresh smell of grass and earth refreshed him, who was slightly tired. He enjoyed the view of the vige and the surroundingndscape, which was a mixture of natural beauty and magical charm.

    The Shrieking Shack, ording to the rumors, was the most haunted house in both magical and non-magical Britain. It was built higher than the other houses in the vige, and because of those distorted legends, this dpidated house looked a bit creepy even in the daytime. The windows on all sides of the house that only had frames left were all sealed with wooden boards, and the small garden surrounded by fences was almost the same as the Potters'' old house, with weeds andtles growing. The paint on the walls was peeling off, and the roof was covered with moss and bird droppings. The door was hanging from one hinge, and the sign that read "Shrieking Shack" was barely legible.

    Except for some curious young wizards, the local residents hardly ever came here.

    Bryan circled around the house and found no footprints of anyone. He was d that his secret base was safe, and that no one would bother him when he was working on his experiments.

    The house was isted on the highest hill nearby, with a wide view. Except for the vige on the south side, the northwest direction until the end of the horizon, were all endless mountains that had lost their vegetation cover, and ten miles away in the northeast direction, was a vast, dark Forbidden Forest, where many dangerous creatures lurked.

    Bryan nodded his head in satisfaction. In this kind of open terrain, it was not easy to hide, and any wizard who tried to approach would not escape his eyes. He had also cast some protective spells and wards around the house, to prevent any unwanted visitors or intruders.

    When he was studying at Hogwarts, Bryan had heard many times the horror stories of the Shrieking Shack. It was said that sometimes on every full moon night, the house would emit a terrible scream of a female ghost and a whisper of a male ghost, but Bryan was not one of those troublemakers from Gryffindor, who liked to sneak out of the castle and explore the forbidden ces.

    Out of respect for those horror stories, Bryan still took out his wand, removed the door panel, and waited until the dust settled before putting on the Bubble-Head Charm and walking in slowly. He did not want to inhale any harmful substances or particles that might be in the air, and he also wanted to be prepared for any possible dangers or surprises that might await him inside the house.

    The situation inside the house was almost as Bryan had expected. The room was messy and gray, and most of the wallpaper on the walls had fallen off. All the furniture and furnishings seemed to have been badly tossed by someone. There were scratches and bite marks on the floor and the walls, and some blood stains that had dried up long ago.

    Bryan focused his eyes on the wooden floor that was still intact, and his eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity.

    The floor covered with a thickyer of dust was imprinted with a lot of messy footprints, and it seemed that there were quite a few rats living here, making this ce their home.

    After thinking about it, Bryan squatted down and lifted a broken board to observe the situation under the floor, hoping to find something useful or interesting.

    "Oh, my God!"

    He eximed in surprise and disgust, as soon as the floor was lifted, a dozen frightened rats made a terrified squeak and ran around crazily, trying to escape from the sudden intruder. Those gnarls that were corroding the foundation of the house also wriggled their bodies and fled desperately, their eyes full of fear and hostility staring warily at Bryan.

    Bryan waved the wand swiftly, and the invisible wave swept through the air, and those fleeing rats were locked by Bryan in a wooden cage that he had changed from amp holder. In the case of tight funds, these rats were very good experimental materials, and Bryan was not going to let them go easily.

    Afraid of having the same fate as the rats, the gnarls fled even more frantically, and Bryan was a bit annoyed by these little creatures that looked likerge chunks of fungus and smelled of stench. They were not only ugly and smelly, but also destructive and invasive.

    He knew that there was a Scouring Charm that could effectively deal with the gnarls, but this was only limited to the case where their number was limited, and from the small space exposed by the lifted floor, it was estimated that the dark ces of this house were already full of gnarls, and Bryan was afraid that a spell would bring down the whole house, which was already in a bad shape.

    After thinking for a moment, Bryan still decided to coexist peacefully with these little guys, since this house had persisted for so many years, there was no reason why it couldn''t hold on when he moved in. He could always find a way to get rid of themter, if they became too troublesome.

    "A great project¨C"

    Bryan muttered to himself sarcastically, as he looked around the dpidated house, wondering how much time and effort it would take to make it livable.

    The wine rack that separated the living room and the kitchen had copsed, and the w marks and tooth marks left on the broken boards seemed to be left by a canine animal, and Bryan guessed that it might be the work of a stray dog or a wild wolf nearby, who had wandered into the house in search of food or shelter.

    After throwing a spider as big as a teapot into the wooden cage, Bryan took back his eyes and continued to walk into the house, ignoring the animal traces.

    The only bedroom on the first floor was blocked by a few rotten wooden boards, and the room was full of furniture debris, and the gorgeous chandelier on the ceiling had also fallen down. Bryan stood at the door and nced a few times, noticing a big hole in the floor at the innermost part, which was probably the work of the gnarls, who had gnawed through the wood and the stone.

    The situation of the whole room was roughly like this, and Bryan, who returned to the living room, nced at the staircase that was about to copse, leading to the second floor, and had no interest in going upstairs to check. He doubted that there was anything worth seeing there, and he did not want to risk his life for nothing.

    Bryan''s requirements for the environment of the research site were not high, as long as no one disturbed him, and there was a test bench and a chair. He did not care much about the aesthetics or thefort of the ce, as long as it was functional and practical.

    Snap!

    The crisp sound of the fingers fell, and a whirlwind appeared out of thin air, sweeping up the fallen wine rack, and in a sh of rapid rotation, a wooden chair with a backrest appeared in front of Bryan, and, following Bryan''s footsteps with a tap dance-like step, walked into the kitchen behind him, as if it had a life of its own.

    Unexpectedly, the monster-like dripping mouth in the kitchen could still spray out brownish-yellow dirty water, and Bryan let the cold water columns wash the stone basin that was entangled with cobwebs, and his eyes fell on the only furniture in the room that was probably intact¨Cthe kitchen counter. It was a sturdy wooden table with several drawers and cabs, and it looked like it could serve as a decent test bench for Bryan.

    "Oh, a boggart"

    Bryan squatted down and nced through the gap of the sliding door, and muttered to himself. He recognized the magical creature that was hiding in the cab, waiting for someone to open it and reveal their deepest fear.

    Bryan was not afraid of boggarts, he had faced them before and knew how to deal with them. He backed up two steps, gently flicked his wand, and the sliding door with rusty wheels opened with a series of harsh squeaks, and a ck shadow rushed out of thepartment filled with moldy dishes, but before the boggart could show off its power, Bryan waved his wand again, without hesitation.

    Bang!

    In the sound of a balloon bursting, the unlucky boggart was blown to pieces by Bryan, who did not even bother to use the ''Riddikulus'' spell. He did not want to waste time on this annoying creature, and he did not care what form it would take. He just wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible.

    "So¨C"

    His eyes wandered, and after confirming that there were no other living things in the kitchen and the hall, Bryan shook his neck and rolled up his sleeves, ready to start his work. He had a lot of things to do, and he did not want to be disturbed by anyone or anything.

    "House-elf¨CBryan Watson is online!"

    The night was not deep yet, and the bright Gryffindormon room was still noisy, full ofughter and chatter. Wizard chess, gobstones, Weasley twin''s joke products, Quidditch, Professor Lupin and Professor Watson, and Sirius ck, who had escaped from the Ministry of Magic again, and, at lunchtime, the matter that Dumbledore and the professors discussed secretly, these topics were everywhere among the little wizards of Gryffindor, who were eager to share their opinions and gossip.

    "You mean¨C"

    Under the gorgeous chandelier near the firece, Hermione, who had not had time to unload the pile of thick books on her back, had a serious look on her pretty face, as she listened to Ron''s words.

    "Malfoy''s parents were threatened by the dark wizards?"

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 0174 Playwright

    0174 ywright

    Harry and Ron were obviously overjoyed about what happened to Malfoy, but they had different expectations for the oue. Ron had had enough of Malfoy''s constant mockery of his family''s poverty, so he hoped that this would bankrupt the Malfoy family once and for all, so that Malfoy would never be able to show off his family''s wealth and status in front of him again.

    Harry''s idea was also very simple and straightforward. He just wanted Malfoy''s parents to be uneasy and afraid of the consequences, even nning to flee from Magical Britain, so that Malfoy would not be able to stay at Hogwarts, and Hagrid''s crisis might be resolved.

    "This is not that simple, Harry!"

    Hermione pped a thick pile of documents rted to magical creatures injuring people on the table, her expression very serious and stern,

    "We all know that Malfoy''s father is not an ordinary person. Last Year, if it weren''t for Professor Watson''s timely resolution of the basilisk and the diary left by You-Know-Who, Lucius Malfoy, who had the ability to control the entire board of governors, might have really driven Professor Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, but¨C"

    "Professor Dumbledore would never lose to that kind of scum!" Harry said dismissively.

    "Let me finish, Harry!"

    Hermione red at Harry, who was unconvinced, and spoke quickly and urgently, "Anyway, we have to admit that Lucius Malfoy is an important and influential person in the wizarding world. He has a close and intimate rtionship with many Ministry of Magic officials, including the Minister of Magic himself. Now, the Malfoy family is in trouble, but he did not ask the Ministry of Magic for help, nor did he report it in the newspaper. Instead, Malfoy came to find Professor Snape for help!"

    "So what, Hermione,"

    Ron puffed his cheeks and said unhappily and impatiently, "Fudge and his gang are greedy and corrupt politicians. They are friends with Malfoy''s dad only for the Malfoy family''s money and power. I bet, if they really offended someone powerful and formidable, Fudge and his gang would definitely stand by and watch the Malfoy family suffer!"

    "The problem is,"

    Hermione, who was provoked, had her bright yellow pupils shining and sparkling, she crossed her arms and asked back,

    "What kind of wizard do you think can make the Minister of Magic afraid, Ron? Did you two think that the person who threatened Lucius Malfoy was Professor Dumbledore?"

    "There are many powerful wizards who are not famous,"

    Ron took out the silver coin from his pocket and shook it in front of Hermione, "If Malfoy''s father offended a wizard of Professor Watson''s level, I think the Ministry of Magic can y a limited and insignificant role."

    Ron wished that Malfoy would be unlucky, this desire was too strong and intense, so he didn''t care who threatened Malfoy''s parents and what the purpose was. Seeing this, Hermione sensibly closed her mouth and quietly thought about why Malfoy would secretly find Snape?

    "Maybe¨C"

    After thinking for a while, Harry''s emerald eyes began to shine and glow, and he said with a hopeful and eager tone,

    "Could it be ck?"

    Harry''s idea was too far-fetched, Hermione and Ron looked at each other and didn''t know how to answer. They wanted to support their friend, but they also wanted to be realistic. How could ck, who was on the run from the dementors and aurors, have the time and the means to threaten Lucius Malfoy, who was well-protected and influential?

    Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, who were still silent, and said.

    "Think about it, Ron, Hermione,"

    But Harry obviously thought he hade up with a guess close to the truth, he said enthusiastically and passionately,

    "ck escaped from that prison called Azkaban to avenge Voldemort. To achieve this goal, he suffered a lot for twelve years, and tried to slip away from those dementors. He wanted to kill me, there is no doubt about that, but when he found out that his former colleagues, you know who I mean, lied to the world with lies, pretending that they had never followed Voldemort, and still lived a morous andfortable life outside, I guess he couldn''t bear it!-"

    Harry paused, and said to Ron and Hermione, who were still silent, "ck probably wanted toe to me first, but he didn''t find a chance. I stayed with Professor Watson during the summer vacation. After entering Hogwarts, he found that he couldn''t break through those dementors.

    So, he turned to Lucius Malfoy, the influential pure-blood wizard, and asked him to order his son Draco Malfoy, to find a way to get me out of school. But Lucius, who was kicked out of the board of governors by Dumbledore, obviously didn''t have the courage to do so, so ck, he threatened them that if they didn''t do as he said, he would kill their entire family with his dark magic. Today''s newspaper report, the Daily Prophet, made Malfoy realize that the Ministry of Magic had no way to deal with ck, so he secretly asked Snape for help¨C"

    "Man, I just found out¨C"

    As Harry spoke, Ron interrupted him with a loud exmation. His mouth gradually opened as he stared at Harry, his expression was very funny,

    "You have inherited Lockhart''s Legacy, that big liar, your story-telling skills are much better than him!"

    Puff!

    Ron''s words made Hermioneugh and feel angry at the same time. She red at Ron, who had a mischievous grin on his face, and looked at Harry, who was still insisting on his theory, and said sympathetically,

    "ck has put too much pressure on you, Harry, I think you should go back to the dormitory and rest."

    Theoretically speaking, Harry''s guess was not impossible, but based on guesswork, this was something that could not be confirmed or falsified, unless, the three of them were ready to continue to go to the bathroom of Moaning Myrtle, the ghost who haunted the second-floor girl''svatory, and boil a pot of Polyjuice Potion there.

    "By the way,"

    The little wizards in the Gryffindormon room, the cozy and warm ce where the members of Gryffindor house gathered and rxed, had almost dispersed, and Ron, who was walking to the dormitory with a sigh, suddenly remembered something. He stopped at the corner of the spiral staircase, and looked at the opposite girls'' dormitory staircase with a puzzled frown,

    "How do I feel like we forgot to ask Hermione something"

    As the sun ascends and descends, the clouds drift and fade, Time flows in silent weariness, and the years carve eternity in simplicity.

    The bright andplete moonst night, which illuminated the night sky with its silver glow, was missing a corner when it hung on the branch today, but the stars that were embedded in the endless abyss and emitted mysterious magic were still bright and twinkling.

    On the high slope, taking advantage of the bright moon and stars, dozens of rat families, carrying their belongings and offspring, were moving away from the hillside overnight, fearing that they would be ''wiped out'' by the madman who stayed in that broken house all day.

    Countless sheepskin papers filled with forms and diagrams, which looked like ancient and arcane runes, became the new floor of the Shrieking Shack''s living room and kitchen. In the hall, the trash can that was almost as tall as a first-year wizard was full of slime made from the corpses of rats, frogs, spiders and some vixens, which gave off a foul and nauseating smell.

    The room that was originally dusty and cobwebbed was now reced by a strong blood smell that could not be diluted. The souls and evil resentment of the countless dead creatures made this house called ''Shrieking Shack'' truly live up to its name, as eerie and horrifying screams could be heard from time to time.

    A wave of faintness that swept across the living room in the blink of an eye and the faint roar in the air indicated that a new round of attempts had begun again. In the kitchen, the rat whose limbs were brutally nailed to the stone tform with iron nails had fear stuffed in its ck eyes, it stared in horror at the terrible tentacles formed by the gathered ck smoke that were approaching it, and let out a mournful cry.

    ¨C Bang! As with hundreds of previous attempts, the experiment failed again!

    ng!

    Bryan, who was pale and exhausted, threw his wand on the table and kicked the door between the bowls and tes, which shattered into pieces. Compared with a month ago, Bryan, who had almost not slept for forty hours, looked much worse. His original soft and clean gray hair was like glued together, forming strands of interlocked hair that stuck to his forehead. The light purple pupils were stained with crisscrossing bloodshot eyes, dark circles, dry lips, and a wizard robe stained with dried blood. He looked like a vagrant who had wandered for a long time.

    "Where did it go wrong!"

    Bryan scratched his itchy hair, his tone unwilling and frustrated. He had disassembled and studied every detail of the calction principle and practice, and he could not find any problems, but he just couldn''t engrave the curse into the soul of the creature, which was the key to his ultimate goal. Ever since he started practicing spell modification and research alone, without any guidance or assistance from others, including the time he studied the magic of storing magic in the eyes, a rare and powerful technique that he had learned from an ancient book, he had never encountered such a difficult and frustrating situation!

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 0175 Cat & Dog

    0175 Cat & Dog

    On the road of magic for more than ten years, Bryan had never encountered such a difficult obstacle. The research that had made no progress for more than a month even made him doubt his own magical talent!

    He looked again at the stack of manuscripts that he had already memorized, and sighed deeply, with a hint of helplessness in his sigh. The yellowed papers were covered with ancient runes and symbols, some of which were faded or torn. They were the only clues he had to decipher the mysterious curse that had fascinated him for so long.

    If it was just an ordinary spell or curse, and there had been no breakthrough after researching it to this point, he might have given up by now, but this curse was different. Ever since he figured out the content recorded on the manuscript, and learned that it could magically and irresistibly stuff the cursed soul into another person''s soul, Bryan knew that he had to master this magic.

    The hunger and protest of his stomach told Bryan that he urgently needed to eat and rest. He stood silently in the kitchen for a while, dispelling the sense of decadence in his heart, and then began to deal with the slime and blood stains on the stone tform. He had experimented with various animals, trying to transfer their souls to each other, but none of them had seeded. The only result was a pile of corpses and a horrible smell. He had to dispose of them quickly, or he would attract unwanted attention.

    The trembling tip of his wand emitted a dazzling gxy, and Bryan once again used the illusion magic to restore the house to its original appearance when no one was there.

    He scratched his itchy scalp, which was covered with greasy and tangled hair, and looked around the house. He made sure that he had not left any traces of his presence, and then he headed for the door. He was nning to go back to the vige, and to buy some food and supplies. But as soon as he opened the door, he heard a rustle and a squeak from outside. He narrowed his eyes and shouted, "Come out!"

    After a shout, Bryanquickly extended his right hand towards the source of the noise, and a small creature flew out of the bushes andnded in his hand.

    The Shrieking Shack was located on the hillside of the northeast of the high slope, where the ground lost the protection of vegetation, andrge and small, oddly shaped stones were scattered on both sides of a winding and steep path. This path extended from the main road of Hogsmeade vige, crossing severalrge fields of vegetable gardens and a few wooden houses in the wilderness. The end of the path was a strange and rugged stone mountain. The Shrieking Shack was the only building on the mountain, and it looked like it was about to copse at any time.

    Under a rock wall that faced away from the moonlight, a ginger-colored cat peeked out from behind a stone. It looked around cautiously, and after confirming that there was no sign of life, it jumped agilely on the stone, and disappeared into the dark shadow. It was carrying something in its mouth, and it made a soft meowing sound.

    Meow! The cool and dry cave was almostpletely bathed in the deep darkness. Crookshanks looked around, meowed a few times, and then dropped something from his mouth. The piece of cheese rolled to the ground softly and stopped near a pile of bones. It was a yellowish-white color, with some holes and mold on it. It smelled sour and pungent, but it was better than nothing. It was stolen from the Hogwarts kitchen by Crookshanks, who had sneaked in there.

    Whoosh¨C A gust of wind appeared out of thin air, and a huge figure suddenly pounced on a stone tform protruding from the rock wall above. It easily picked up the cheese with its teeth, and without any hesitation, it swallowed it whole.

    Gulp, gulp, gulp¨C The sound of a hungry stomach digesting food was very clear in this silent cave. Crookshanks crawled on the ground, squinting his eyes and looking at the beast that was eating gratefully with his weird pansy face, and licked his cat paw contentedly with his tongue.

    That was a skinny dog that could clearly see how many ribs it had. It was about the same size as a young ck bear. Its ck fur was covered with stains that were hard to clean. When it licked the cheese crumbs on the ground, its gray eyes flickered with not only desire, but also a human-like madness!

    Woo woo¨C The big dog spit out its tongue, unable to find any more food from the ground, and whimpered at Crookshanks a few times, expressing gratitude. Crookshanks rubbed his head against the dog''s leg, and purred softly.

    The night was deep, and the moon with a missing corner climbed to the zenith of the sky like a giant millstone. Its pale light cast a faint shadow on the barren and rockyndscape below. The mountain wind that had grown colder with the passing of time made the ck dog squatting on therge stone curl up its body, trying to preserve some warmth. The sad whimper that escaped from its throat revealed its loneliness and longing.

    From a distance, the Shrieking Shack on another peak looked as dark and eerie as usual, but the ck dog knew that the house was not empty. There was a madman who was obsessed with magic research upying the house day and night, cutting off his safest and most reliable path back to Hogwarts. The ck dog had been waiting for a chance to sneak into the school, where he hoped to find his old friend and expose the traitor who had ruined his life.

    Meow¨C Crookshanks, the ginger-colored cat who was sitting next to the ck dog,zily called out twice, giving his suggestion. He pointed his nose towards the Forbidden Forest, which was a dense and dark area full of magical creatures. He thought that they could go around from there, and enter the school from the other side.

    Hesitating for a moment, the ck dog shook his head and rejected the suggestion. It was too risky to go through the Forbidden Forest. There were many intelligent and dangerous creatures living there, and they were all loyal to Hagrid, the gamekeeper of Hogwarts. If they saw him, they would surely report him to the headmaster or the Ministry of Magic. In addition to this method, the ck dog also knew some secret passages that could lead him into the school, but the entrances of those passages were mostly in the Hogsmeade vige. Now the vige was full of patrolling Aurors, the elite wizards who worked for the Ministry of Magic, and the Dementors, the soul-sucking creatures who guarded the prison of Azkaban. Unless he had no choice, he didn''t want to take this risk either.

    The ck dog thought when that madman returns home to rest, he will sneak in.

    Crookshanks looked at the Shrieking Shack with a thoughtful expression, and after a while, he gave another suggestion. He thought that they could wait for the wizard in the house to leave, and then use the secret passage that connected the house to the school. The passage was hidden under a loose floorboard in one of the rooms, and it led to the Whomping Willow, a violent and sentient tree that guarded the entrance.

    The man in the shack was Harry and his friend''s teacher, a very powerful wizard. Because he had no way tomunicate without barriers, the ck dog could only get this information from Crookshanks, who had seen him before.

    Woo¨C After a long silence, the ck dog once again rejected Crookshanks''s proposal. A powerful wizard, conducting secret magic experiments in a hidden ce, could only mean that there were many taboo and dangerous things involved in his research, and this also meant that the Shrieking Shack was likely to be set up with some wards or warning spells. The ck dog didn''t have a wand in his hand now, and he couldn''t guarantee that he wouldn''t trigger these spells. He didn''t want to alert the wizard or the Ministry of Magic, and he didn''t want to endanger Crookshanks either.

    The ck dog kept whimpering, and tried hard to express his thoughts to Crookshanks.

    Steal the fake rat from the school¨C This was Crookshanks''s third suggestion.

    This method was somewhat feasible, but the ck dog didn''t have much hope. He knew that the fake rat was cunning and cowardly, and that he had some tricks up his sleeve. Crookshanks was very smart, but he was unlikely to deal with him alone, especially since the fake rat was protected by his owner and his friends.

    But this was the least likely to expose and worth trying n at the moment. Crookshanks, who received approval, stood up, and his face that looked like it had been run over by a wheel also didn''t look so gloomy. He faced the direction of the Shrieking Shack and called out softly.

    By the way, want to see what the wizard in the house is doing, and, test if there are any traps? Crookshanks added another suggestion, which was more of a curiosity than a necessity. He wanted to know what the wizard was doing in the house, and if he could find a way to avoid or disable the possible traps. He thought that it would be useful for their future n, and also fun to explore.

    The ck dog fell into hesitation again. He was not particrly curious about what the wizard was doing in the house, but if Crookshanks could help confirm whether there were any traps in the Shrieking Shack, it would be helpful. That wizard was the teacher of Harry, and he had seen Crookshanks before, so if he really found Crookshanks, he shouldn''t be in much danger. He might even be friendly to him, since he was Harry''s friend''s pet.

    Meow¨C Before the ck dog could figure out whether this matter was worth taking a risk, Crookshanks, who couldn''t wait, stood up and ran towards the green hill. He was agile and swift, and he soon disappeared from the ck dog''s sight. The ck dog squatted on the stone and watched Crookshanks go away quickly, and his gray eyes showed intense worry.

    This very smart big ginger cat had given him a lot of help during this time, and he was already his friend. In this moment when everything was against him, if he lost Crookshanks''s help, revenge would probably be more difficult.

    After hesitating for a while, the ck dog made up his mind and howled, bathed in the bright moonlight, and ran towards the Shrieking Shack as well!

    "You are-"

    In the hall of the Shrieking Shack, Bryan squinted his eyes and looked at the ginger-colored big cat that was struggling fiercely in his hand, and his face looked a bit strange, "If I remember correctly, you are Hermione''s pet cat Crookshanks. By the way, what are you doing here?"

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 0176 Weird

    0176 Weird

    Everything in the room was covered by an illusion magic, only a candlestick that was about to tumble from the wall was still emitting a dim but stable candlelight. The flickering light cast eerie shadows on the dusty furniture and the cracked walls. Bryan lifted the fur behind Crookshank''s neck, fearing that his face would be ruined by the big cat''s sharp ws.

    "What are you doing here, Crookshanks, instead of staying with Hermione?" Bryan asked curiously, frowning.

    When he heard this wizard who had met him once call out his and his master''s names urately, Crookshanks calmed down a bit. Looking around the gloomy room, he faced Bryan and tried to make an innocent look.

    Meow meow¨C Crookshanks raised a front paw and gestured at Bryan twice, as if asking him a question.

    "Are you asking me what I''m doing here?"

    Bryan raised his eyebrows in surprise, impressed by the intelligence of this big yellow cat. He could tell that this cat was not an ordinary one, but he didn''t know how much he could understand. After a brief hesitation, he put Crookshanks on the ground and shrugged his shoulders.

    "I need a quiet ce to do my magic research, as you can see, little guy, this ce is very remote, no one bothers me. By the way, you haven''t answered my question yet?"

    Crookshanks moved his gaze away, raised his nose and sniffed around, then ran into the kitchen and jumped onto the counter with agility, meowing excitedly at an empty spot. He seemed to have found something interesting there.

    "Sharp little guy¨C"

    Bryan smiled warmly, he snapped his fingers, and then the space there faded away like a mirage, revealing a huge wooden cage that held severalrge rats. The rats squeaked in fear and tried to hide in the corners of the cage, but they couldn''t escape Crookshanks hungry eyes.

    "So¨C"

    Bryan walked into the kitchen again, he chuckled softly and looked at Crookshanks who was lying on the cage with his two front paws, and turned his head anxiously and meowed impatiently. He wanted Bryan to open the cage and let him have a feast.

    "You smelled the rats, so you came to find something to eat? Don''t tell me you''ve wiped out all the rats in Hogwarts, and Ron''s rat named Scabbers also fell into your stomach?"

    Bryan teased yfully, knowing that Crookshanks had a history of chasing Ron''s pet rat. Crookshanks blinked, lowered his head and avoided Bryan''s gaze.

    "Alright," Bryan muttered, reaching into the cage and picking out the fattest field mouse, stuffing it into Crookshanks'' mouth. He had raised these rats for his experiments, but he didn''t mind sharing some with the cat.

    "That''s it, I have to go back to rest, you better hurry back to school."

    Bryan said gently, patting Crookshanks'' head. He was tired after a long time of research, and he wanted to sleep in his cozy bed. He also worried that Hermione would miss her cat, and that Crookshanks would get into trouble if he stayed here too long.

    Crookshanks jumped off the counter, but he didn''t leave right away, his eyes still pointed at the wooden cage, and after making a few whines, he ran to Bryan''s feet and rubbed his head affectionately against his ankles.

    This funny performance amused Bryan, he squatted down and gently rubbed Crookshanks'' fluffy and soft ginger fur, and joked.

    "Do you take this as a cafeteria, little guy¨C"

    Crookshanks didn''t make a sound, just looked at Bryan with longing and pleading eyes. He hoped that Bryan would let hime back again, and maybe give him more rats to eat.

    Bryan scratched his itchy hair, pursed his lips and thought for a moment, he pushed the wooden cage on the kitchen counter into the dishes, and lowered his head and smiled warmly at Crookshanks.

    "Okay, I''ll leave the cage here. If you really can''t find anything to eat, you cane here for a visit. But I suggest you bettere when I''m here. When I leave, the warning spells around the house will work, and any living thing thates in and out of here will alert me."

    Bryan warned, knowing that this ce was not safe for anyone who didn''t know the secrets. He had set up many protective wards and traps to prevent intruders from discovering his research, and he didn''t want Crookshanks to get hurt by them.

    Meow¨C Crookshanks'' eyes shed, and he nodded his head under Bryan''s gaze.

    ''What a smart cat!'' Bryan marveled at Crookshanks'' cleverness again. He just casually mentioned it, and didn''t expect a cat to understand him, but he didn''t expect this cat to actually understand.

    "By the way¨C" Bryan suddenly whispered and instructed, "You better not lure Hermione and those adventurous little wizards here to explore¨C"

    Waving his wand to seal the door, he felt the cold mountain wind and the dazzling starlight that stung his eyes. He rubbed his sore eyes, and suddenly, a faint feeling of being watched came to his heart.

    "Who''s there?"

    Bryan red at a certain ce down the hill, his eyes narrowed, and he shouted sharply.

    Under the clear moonlight, a ck dog as big as a ck bear sprang out like a bullet from behind a raised mound of earth half a mile away. His fur was shaggy and matted, and his eyes were glowing with a fierce light. As soon as he realized that he had been discovered, he turned and ran away without any hesitation, his speed wasparable to a cheetah.

    At the same time, Crookshanks, who had been staying peacefully in Bryan''s arms, suddenly jumped to the ground, his yellow fur exploded, and he snarled at Bryan with his teeth and mouth, making a fierce gesture.

    Bryan scratched his suddenly itchy hair, and looked at Crookshanks strangely. "Did you make a good friend?"

    He joked, not understanding why the cat was acting so hostile. Crookshanks mped his limbs on the ground like a guard dog, without any wavering, firmly blocking Bryan''s front. Bryan shook his head and smiled, turned and walked towards the vige, but after a few steps, he suddenly stopped, and looked at the direction where the big ck dog escaped with doubt.

    "¨CDid I run into something weird?!"

    More than a month had passed since ck''s escape from the Ministry of Magic and the rumors of prophecy that the ''savior'' Harry Potter might die had lost their market in Hogwarts, only Draco, who was still hanging around the castle with bandages all day, reminded the young wizards of the first week of school, Hagrid''s disastrous Care of Magical Creatures lesson, where he had introduced a hippogriff named Buckbeak, who had injured Malfoy''s arm, but this topic also quickly faded with the first Quidditch match of the new school year.

    Meanwhile, the night was clear, under the supervision of Madam Hooch, the Gryffindor team members trained until almost ten o''clock, and then dragged their exhausted bodies back to the castle. They were preparing for their next match against Ravenw, and they wanted to improve their skills and teamwork. Harry, who was the seeker of the team, had flown very well, and had caught the snitch several times, earning the praise of his teammates and his captain, Oliver Wood.

    As expected, the Gryffindormon room was still lively at this time, and there were chattering discussions everywhere.

    "Can anyone tell me what happened?"

    The weather turned cold, and the firece weed them with warm mes. Harry walked to Hermione and Ron, who were lying on the wooden table next to the firece,pleting the star track map of the astronomy ss, and asked curiously. He wanted to know what they were talking about, and if there was any news that he had missed.

    A minuteter, Harry, who was very happy because of the very good training effect, copsed on the chair, his face gloomy. He had learned that the reason why everyone was so excited was because they had received a notice from Professor McGonagall, that they could go to Hogsmeade for the weekend, if they had a signed permission form from their parents or guardians. This kind of interesting thing obviously had nothing to do with him whether ck was caught or not, since he knew that the Dursleys would never sign anything for him, and he didn''t have any other rtives who could do it for him.

    Harry looked at the flickering mes with drooping eyelids, thinking listlessly. He wished that he could go to Hogsmeade with his friends, and see the magical shops and pubs, and have some fun. He felt that he was missing out on a lot of things, and that he was being treated unfairly.

    "Since the Ministry of Magic has found ck once,"

    Hermione saw through Harry''s thoughts, she pursed her lips and said,

    "then he will be caught soon, Harry, I dare say you will definitely be able to go with us next time."

    She tried to cheer him up, and to make him feel hopeful.

    "Next time who knows what will happen¨C" Ron red unhappily at Hermione, "I think, Harry, you should go and ask McGonagall.....Ahem!...... Professor McGonagall, she can''t just let you, a third-year student, stay in the castle, right? And, if ck has any brains, he won''t run to Hogsmeade and act rashly."

    He suggested eagerly, not agreeing with Hermione''s cautious approach.

    "Did you forget what Professor Lupin said, Ron?"

    Hermione argued, "ck is a madman, but since he can escape from Azkaban, it proves that he is a very cunning dark wizard. He will definitely choose a time that we think is impossible to attack Harry!"

    However, Harry hesitated, because Ron and Hermione''s words both made sense, he was not sure who to listen to. If it was in the second year, Harry thought he would most likely follow Ron''s opinion, and try to sneak out of the castle and go to Hogsmeade, but some things he experienced during this period made him change a bit, Harry had to admit, Professor Watson''s advice at the end of the summer vacation and Professor Lupin''s warning before still made him a little cautious.

    ''By the way, Professor Watson-'' Harry blinked in surprise, his expression suddenly rxed, Professor Watson told him that he would stay in Hogsmeade until ck was caught.

    Hogwarts was safe not because of the Dementors and those ancient magics and wards, but because Dumbledore was here, so by the same logic, Hogsmeade with Professor Watson must also be safe and nothing bad would happen right!?

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 0177 Failed Exchange

    0177 Failed Exchange

    "Okay, Ron, I''ll try to find a chance to ask Professor McGonagall." Encouraged by the presence of Professor Watson, Harry made a decision that was more in line with his wishes.

    Hermione''s beautiful eyebrows furrowed together, she red at Ron dissatisfiedly, opened her mouth as if to refute, but before she could speak, Crookshanks, who appeared out of nowhere, jumped onto herp with a fat, stunned rat in his mouth.

    The ginger cat looked proud of his catch, as if he had brought a precious gift to his owner.

    "Does it have to eat that thing in front of us, it will make themon room stink!"

    Ron frowned showing his disgust. He hated Crookshanks for always chasing his pet rat, Scabbers, and now he had to watch him devour another rodent.

    "You can go to the courtyard to eat this, Crookshanks¨C"

    This was a good idea, even Hermione didn''t want her clean wizard robes to be stained with rat guts and blood and such. she said gently, trying to pick up Crookshanks and send him out of the Gryffindormon room, but unexpectedly, Crookshanks, who was squatting on herp, suddenly jumped onto the coffee table, dodging Hermione''s hand, a pair of yellow eyes staring straight at Ron.

    "Get rid of it, Hermione!"

    Ron was annoyed and pulled hisary orbit map, which he had worked hard all night to make, from under Crookshanks'' feet, ring at Crookshanks and said,

    "It almost ruined our astronomy homework, and, Scabbers is sleeping in my bag, do you want him to watch this cat eat his own kind?"

    Crookshanks stared motionlessly at Ron, but after hearing this, his fluffy tail tip shook, he nced at Ron''s bag, raised his chin, as if to show Ron the rat in his mouth better, his yellow eyes shining with a strange light.

    "What are you trying to do?"

    Crookshanks'' appearance made Ron more wary, he hugged his bag impatiently and asked, but Crookshanks did not waver, just stretched his neck forward, and lightly bit the rat in his mouth.

    "I think¨C"

    Crookshanks'' appearance confused Hermione too, but Harry suddenlyughed, he couldn''t help but look at Ron and said his thoughts,

    "He probably wants to trade the rat in his mouth for your Scabbers, Ron!"

    Ron was stunned, and then red at Hermione angrily, "See, Hermione, this brainless cat wants to kill Scabbers, I really don''t understand, why do you have to bring this beast back!"

    "Don''t talk nonsense, Ron!"

    After silencing Harry with a haughty look, Hermione impatiently said, "Crookshanks has no reason to do that, he might just want to introduce a friend to Scabbers!"

    As she said, she stood up and tried to hold Crookshanks again. Crookshanks dodged Hermione''s embrace again, he seemed to realize that the trade had failed, the little boy in front of him was not willing to exchange the fake rat in his bag for the real one in his mouth, so he jumped to the armrest of the sofa, slowly squatted down, his eyes shed with a fierce light.

    What happened next could probably only be described as a disaster.

    Crookshanks turned his head and threw the fat mouse that had already regained consciousness high in the air, and by a stroke of luck, it hung on the bow of Hermione''s roommate, Lavender Brown, who was worried about Professor Trwney''s prophecy.

    Lavender had been sitting by the firece, reading a book about divination, and she had tied her long blonde hair with a pink bow hairpin. She had no idea that a live rat was about tond on her head. Lavender, who looked bewildered, took off the mouse on the bow hairpin and put it in front of her eyes.

    Ah! She screamed in horror, louder than anyone had ever heard her scream before.

    The ear-piercing scream of horror made the noisymon room quiet down in an instant. Everyone turned their heads to see what was going on, and saw Lavender holding a mouse in her hand, her face pale and her eyes wide. Hermione hadn''t had time to apologize for Crookshanks; Lavender threw the mouse out before throwing herself into Parvati''s arms. Parvati hugged her and tried to calm her down, while looking at Hermione with a reproachful expression.

    After drawing a beautiful arc in the air, the mouse fell on the chessboard of Neville and Seamus. The mouse reacted quickly, it quickly left the overturned chessboard, climbed up Neville''s chest along his knee, and then, with a leap, hooked his nostril with its paw!

    Neville felt a sharp pain in his nose, and his eyes watered. He tried to pull the mouse off, but it clung to his nostril stubbornly.

    The sudden shock made Neville look like he was suffocating. He couldn''t breathe, and he couldn''t speak. He could only wave his wand wildly, hoping to get rid of the mouse.

    "<strong>RICTUMSEMPRA</strong>-!"

    Fortunately, at this time, on the other side of themon room, Ginny, who was talking to Colin about something, was quick and agile. She saw Neville''s plight and cast a Tickling Charm at him. A Tickling Charm flew over and hit Neville''s nostril urately.

    In the midst of everyone''s hardughter, Neville, who had a round face and was red, stood up tremblingly. The mouse felt a tickling sensation in its paw, and it let go of Neville''s nostril involuntarily. After a snap, it fell heavily to the ground, making a thud sound.

    Hearing this sound, Neville''s chubby cheeks trembled again, and he remembered the night after the final exam in his first year, when he was unconscious by the petrification curse.

    "Sorry, Neville¡ª¡ª"

    Hermione hurriedly walked past one student after another, came to Neville, who had copsed on the sofa again, and her sweaty face was full of apology,

    "It was just an ident, Neville, Crookshanks didn''t mean it¡ª¡ª"

    Neville hadn''t had time to speak, when a furious roar came from the direction of the firece. Hermione quickly turned her head and was shocked to see that, Taking advantage of everyone''s attention being drawn by the rat, Crookshanks suddenly pounced, his four ws dug deep into Ron''s bag, tearing it viciously. The bag was ripped open, and its contents spilled out on the floor.

    "Get off, you stupid cat!"

    Ron tried to pull his bag from under Crookshanks, but Crookshanks held on, baring his teeth and tearing. He seemed determined to get Scabbers out of the bag.

    "Don''t hurt him, Ron!"

    Hermione screamed, because, Ron was unable to drive Crookshanks away, so he was frantically swinging his bag like a windmill, but even so he still couldn''t get rid of Crookshanks, instead Scabbers flew out of the open bag.

    Scabbersnded on the floor with a squeak, and tried to run away, but Crookshanks was faster. He chased after Scabbers, his eyes gleaming with malice. In order to catch these two crazed animals, all the young wizards in themon room moved, and finally, Scabbers was pulled out from under an old cupboard by Ron, and Hermione, who had messy hair and was embarrassed, threw herself on the ground, holding down Crookshanks who was struggling hard.

    "You''re happy now, aren''t you!"

    Looking at the skinny, trembling Scabbers in his palm, Ron was furious and yelled. He red at Hermione, who was holding Crookshanks, and said,

    "Look at what your cat did to my bag, and to Scabbers! He''s terrified, Hermione, can''t you see that?"

    "Crookshanks was just¨C"

    Hermione''s eyes were shining with tears, she weakly tried to exin for Crookshanks, but her words were rudely interrupted by Ron,

    "That cat just wants to eat Scabbers, when will you admit it, Hermione!"

    He raised his voice, and his face was red with anger.

    "How can you talk to Hermione like that, Ron?!"

    Ginny hurriedly ran over from the other side of themon room, gently hugged Hermione''s slender trembling shoulders, and red at Ron, who was trying to coax Scabbers back into his pocket.

    "Ron, she¡¯s your friend! You can¡¯t shout at her like that! It''s not her fault that Crookshanks is a natural hunter, and Scabbers is a natural prey!"

    Ron, who was still fuming, looked up and opened his mouth to retort,, but after seeing Hermione, who had tears in her eyes, he hesitated,

    "Keep that beast away from me, Hermione, or else¨C"

    Ron muttered something that only Hermione and Ginny heard, then walked away angrily, leaving only a more angry Ginny and a sad and helpless Hermione. Ginny hugged Hermione andforted her, while giving Ron a dirty look.

    "Ron was just too worried about Scabbers, Hermione¨C"

    Harry hesitated and said, he looked at Crookshanks in Hermione''s arms, rationally he agreed with Ron''s view, this slightly strange big ginger cat seemed to be targeting Scabbers, but he couldn''t say that in front of Hermione,

    "Don''t worry, I''ll go talk to him."

    Harry, who was already depressed by not being able to go to Hogsmeade, sighed heavily and dragged his tired steps to the dormitory. He hoped that Ron and Hermione would make up soon, and that Crookshanks would stop chasing Scabbers.

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 0178 Crookshanksâ€™s New-Home

    0178 Crookshanks¡¯s New-Home

    The first rays of dawn broke through the dark sky, and the massive gate of Hogwarts Castle creaked open with a sound of rusty hinges. The pale pink sun, tinged with a hint of gold, cast a soft glow over the dim hall. The ancient castle was slowly waking up from its nocturnal slumber.

    Suddenly, the silence was shattered by the sound of frantic footsteps echoing in the empty hall.

    Hermione emerged from the shadows, clutching Crookshanks to her chest. Her face was pale and weary, and her eyes were red from crying. She nced around nervously, making sure no one was watching. Then, she bent down and gave Crookshanks a gentle stroke on his head. He purred softly, oblivious to her troubles. His fur was orange and fluffy, and his eyes were bright and curious. With a determined look, she dashed out of the castle and headed for the mistywn.

    At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid, who had calmed down a lot after more than a month, was busy in the field. The pumpkins nted in August and September were now ripe in October. The lush vines had lost most of their flowers, and the basin-sized pumpkins were everywhere in the neat field. They were round and smooth, and some of them had funny shapes and bumps.

    Hagrid gestured with the pink umbre in his hand. Although he had cleared his innocence, Hagrid, who had been sneaking around in order to cast spells for most of his life, was used to hiding his wand in the umbre. The umbre was old and worn, and had a few patches on it.

    Looking at the fruits, Hagrid showed a happy expression. The swelling charm he had usedst year worked very well. He nned to do the same in a few days and make the pumpkins grow bigger.

    Buckbeak, who had not realized that he had gotten into trouble and also caused trouble for Hagrid, was crawling under the shade of a tree on the other side of the house, eating the nutritious breakfast that Hagrid had prepared for him - arge basin of ferrets. The ferrets were wriggling and squeaking, and Buckbeak''s beak made a crunching sound as he bit into them.

    Fangy at the door, drooling at the worm-like things that were eating lettuce in the wooden box like a beehive. The Flubberworms, which were as big as a toddler''s arm, were also coveting them, but they obviously knew that those things were not their food, so they could only stare at them with envy. The Flubberworms were slimy and green, and they made a slurping sound as they munched on the lettuce. The lettuce was fresh and crisp, and had a few drops of dew on it.

    Suddenly, the thick morning fog surged a few dozen feet away. Fang, who smelled it first, immediately pricked up his ears and barked happily. His bark was loud and deep, and it echoed in the forest.

    "Don''t bark, Fang, the little wizards haven''t got up yet, don''t disturb their sleep!"

    Hagrid scolded, straightening up from his pumpkin patch. He looked at Buckbeak, who was tearing apart a ferret with his sharp beak.

    "When he''s done, I''ll let him leave the bones for you!" he added gruffly. His voice was loud and booming, and it startled some of the birds in the forest.

    Buckbeak pped his wings a few times, snorted at Fang, and then threw the ferret bones on the ground with his ws.

    "Hagrid!"

    Hermione, who was covered with dew on her hair and eyebrows, like a drowned chicken, rushed out of the fog. When she saw Hagrid, who was stunned by her appearance in the pumpkin field, Hermione couldn''t control her emotions anymore. She ran into Hagrid''s arms and cried like a child who lost her candies. Her tears were hot and salty, and they soaked Hagrid''s shirt.

    "Either let Crookshanks disappear, or let yourself disappear!"

    Hagrid roared angrily, he picked up a towel and wanted to wipe the dew on Hermione''s hair, but almost took off her head.

    "That little bastard dared to say that, Hermione, don''t stop me, next time I see him, I have to teach him a lesson. Ask him if he still remembers how much you helped him!"

    "Don''t be like that, Hagrid, Ron is just too worried about Scabbers, he didn''t do anything wrong¨C"

    Hermione, who still had red eyes, but was much better after releasing her emotions, defended Ron for a moment, stroking Crookshanks, who was lying on herp.

    "But I really can''t keep Crookshanks in the castle. I have so many sses to attend, I don''t have time to discipline him properly, I can only leave him here with you, Hagrid, at least Fang can be Crookshanks''s friend."

    "No problem, Hermione, I have plenty of space here, enough for him and Fang to have fun¨C"

    Hagrid brought a cup of steaming tea to Hermione, who still looked sad. He hesitated for a moment, and said worriedly, "But I don''t think this can solve the problem, Hermione, you have to talk to Ron, people often make mistakes and can''t manage their pets, but it''s not right to me their friends for that."

    Hagrid''s tea was strong and bitter, and it had a few weird leaves floating in it.

    "Thank you, Hagrid, I''ll find a chance to talk to him." Hermione wiped the tears on her eyshes and tried to squeeze a smile, but both Hermione and Hagrid knew that this was just an excuse.

    There was still some time before ss, and Hagrid warmly prepared rock cakes and Bath buns for Hermione, who hadn''t eaten breakfast, but Hermione didn''t touch them, she just hugged Crookshanks reluctantly and sipped the hot tea.

    "I''ve been studying some cases of magical creatures injuring people, Hagrid, and I''ll sort out the arguments for the cases where they were released. When you and Buckbeak go to trial at the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, you can follow the words on it¨C"

    "If it weren''t for you, I wouldn''t know what to do, Hermione!"

    Hagrid''s nose was red and runny, and he used a handkerchief to wipe it. He blew his nose heavily and said gratefully,

    "These days, I often dream of the verdicting down, and Buckbeak being... Oh, anyway, thanks to you, I still have a glimmer of hope!"

    Hermione smiled, and this time, her smile was more sincere.

    "By the way, Hagrid, I''ve always been a bit confused¨C"

    After clumsily patting Hagrid''s arm, which was as thick as her waist, Hermione pouted, looking a bit puzzled.

    "Why don''t you go to Professor Dumbledore for help? if you go to him for help, he won''t mind giving you a word with the Ministry."

    "I don''t want to bother him," Hagrid sighed and sat down.

    "Professor Dumbledore has so many things to deal with every day, I don''t want to cause him any trouble."

    Hermione looked like she wanted to argue, but Hagrid said again,

    "And he can''t really interfere with this matter. Of course, of course, as long as Dumbledore is willing to send a formal message, the Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures won''t ignore his words, but the problem is here, Hermione, Dumbledore has been trying to avoid interfering with the normal operation of the Ministry of Magic, because he knows very well that Cornelius Fudge is always wary of him.

    Although it''s ridiculous, Fudge is worried that if Dumbledore changes his mind one day and wants to be Minister for a while, he can easily use his prestige to drive Fudge out of office. So, to prevent Fudge from making the wrong judgment, Professor Dumbledore is restraining himself, even when he doesn''t agree with many of the decisions made by the Ministry. I know Professor Dumbledore can help Buckbeak out of trouble, Hermione, but I don''t want to see Dumbledore embarrassed."

    Looking at Hagrid, who suddenly became eloquent, Hermione asked incredulously,

    "Did youe up with this yourself, Hagrid?"

    Hermione asked in astonishment.

    "Oh, you''re not the smartest little witch in Hogwarts for nothing, Hermione - not wanting to trouble Dumbledore is indeed my idea, but the rest of it¡­"

    Hagrid scratched his hairy beard and smiled sheepishly.

    "Do you remember the morning when Remus sent me back? Actually, the night before, it was Professor Watson who picked me up and took me to his temporary residence in Hogsmeade. He''s a good man, isn''t he? Otherwise I would have to sleep with the trash can that night. Later, I picked a time to go and thank him, and while we were chatting, he talked to me about Buckbeak''s problem. I was a bit hesitant about whether to go to Professor Dumbledore or not, and Professor Watson told me these things."

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 0179 Halloween

    0179 Halloween

    Click!

    The dazzling lightning that tore through the silent sky like a jagged knife, illuminating the dark clouds that hung over the shrieking shack. The old house was shaking in the thunderous roar, as if it was about to copse at any moment. The rainstorm was like a sword of silver, shooting the earth with relentless force, raging and roaring towards every corner of the vige. The wind howled and whipped the trees, making them sway and creak.

    Arge group of bats conjured by magic stretched their wings and soared in the fierce rainstorm, defying the natural elements. They flew over every household''s door, where pumpkinnterns with candles flickered and cast eerie shadows on the walls. The mysterious singing echoed in every street and alley of Hogsmeade vige, creating a spooky atmosphere. Even the thunder and rainstorm could not stop the joy of Halloween for the vigers, who dressed up in costumes and masks, and celebrated the night of magic and mischief.

    "I have to leave early today, Crookshanks."

    The sky was dark, but it was actually only evening. Bryan, who had packed everything up, looked at the ginger-colored big cat squatting in the corner of the living room, on a rotten sofa that was covered with holes and stains. He smiled warmly, as he always did when he saw this furrypanion.

    Since thest time Crookshanks got a sweet deal from Bryan, he was very fond of running to this shack, and Bryan, who was alone all day, didn''t mind having a little guy to talk to, so he didn''t deliberately drive him away.

    Meow¨C

    Crookshanks made a soft sound, not as usual, obeying the order to leave the shrieking shack. He looked at Bryan with pleading eyes, hoping he would understand his request.

    "Today is Halloween, I''m not sure if those naughty kids in the vige will suddenly have a whim, and want toe to this haunted house to y an adventure game, and, I have an appointment with a friend for dinner tonight."

    Bryan walked over, squatted down and rubbed the fur on Crookshanks''s head, and said gently, feeling a bit guilty for leaving him alone.

    "Halloween Eve''s dinner is very rich, if you run fast, maybe you can still catch up with Hermione and get some good food and drink. She always spoils you, doesn''t she?"

    Meow¨C Crookshanks lowered his head even more, apparently not wanting to leave, facing Bryan''s puzzled eyes, he raised his paw and pointed at the sky, then scratched at another mountain, and kept repeating this action. He tried to convey his message with gestures, hoping Bryan would get it.

    It took a while for Bryan, who was half-dazed and half-guessing, to barely figure out Crookshanks'' meaning,

    "Hmm, you want to invite your stray dog friend toe here and avoid the rain?"

    Crookshanks put down his paw and sped the sofa tightly, he nodded his head, his body tensed, and a trace of nervousness shed in his bright yellow pupils.

    "You''re quite loyal¨C"

    Bryanughed, but he didn''t agree immediately. He looked at the ceiling, where water was dripping from a crack, and wondered if the roof would hold up.

    If Crookshanks'' friend was a cat, Bryan wouldn''t care, but if it was that ck dog that was too big and he had seen from a distance that night, he was a bit worried, because this house was after all a ''dangerous'' house, and if he let a energetic big dog run around here, Bryan wasn''t sure if he would only see a pile of ruins when he came back tomorrow.

    He also wasn''t sure if the dog would be friendly to him, or if he would bite him or bark at him and disturb him during his researchter.

    "Alright¨C"

    After hesitating for a bit, Bryan nodded and agreed, he said in a slightly serious tone.

    "The stairs to the second floor are about to copse, I hope you two can stay honestly on the first floor. Also, the spiders and rats in the cage can be your Halloween feast, but you have to tell that dog, not to make a mess, otherwise, I''ll use you two as materials for experimenting magic!"

    He tried to sound stern, but he couldn''t hide the smile on his face. He knew Crookshanks was smart enough to understand him, and he hoped the dog would be obedient enough to follow him.

    *<em>Hogsmeade</em>*

    Zonko''s joke shop was the most eye-catching magic shop this Halloween, the owner of the shop got some inspiration from somewhere, he put an engorgement charm on a pumpkinntern, making it swell to the size of a house, and used a spell to control it floating in the air. It was a spectacr sight, that attracted many curious eyes and admiringments. The pumpkinntern had a carved face, that changed expressions every few seconds, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning, sometimes winking, sometimes sticking out its tongue.

    Under the thunder and lightning, such a huge pumpkinntern swayed with the wind and rain, this scene was undoubtedly very visually effective, even Bryan, who came down from the mountain, couldn''t help but stand on the street and look at it for a few more seconds.

    A few little kids in raincoats ran out of Bryan''s house happily, each holding a handful of fancy wrapped candy, Bryan smiled and stepped aside, giving way to these little guys. He had prepared some treats for them, knowing they woulde to his door, as they did every year.

    Turning his head, Remus was standing at the door, looking at him with a smile.

    "How''s the research going, Bryan?"

    Lupin asked kindly,

    "It''s the same as before, no breakthrough."

    Bryan saidzily, he strolled past Lupin and walked in first, and when he caught sight of the scene inside the house, he halted in his tracks, looking utterly astonished.

    The original dim and dpidated living room was transformed into a dazzling spectacle by hundreds of neatly arranged candles floating in the air, casting a warm and flickering glow on everything. The walls were covered with twisting golden ribbons that sparkled like stars, and the ceiling of the living room was also crudely enchanted like the Hogwarts Great Hall, reflecting the stormy sky above, with dark clouds rolling and thunder and lightning shing.

    The house''s original square table soaked in grease and stains was reced by Remus with a brand new long table that upied half of the living room, the table was piled with mouth-watering dishes that appealed to the senses, such as sulentmb chops, sizzling sausages, crispy grilled eels, creamy chocte pudding and other scrumptious food that made Bryan''s stomach growl.

    Looking at all this, Bryan was speechless for a few seconds, turned his head and looked at Remus, who was gazing at the shrieking shack in the rain, with a perplexed expression,

    "Did you prepare all this?"

    "Actually¨C"

    Lupin took back his uneasy gaze and smiled sheepishly,

    "It was Albus who ordered the little elves in the kitchen to prepare it for us, ording to him, he wanted to invite you to the school for dinner, but he knew you would refuse this request, so he let me bring it over directly."

    Heh¨C Bryan chuckled dryly, raised his eyebrows, and nodded slightly,

    "Anyway, thank him for his kindness, and help me bring him the money for the mealter¨C"

    "Why, Bryan?"

    Remus, who was pulling the chair and sitting down, heard this and couldn''t help but smile bitterly,

    "If you say that you were wary of Albus before because of the ''Golden Viper'' identity, but obviously he doesn''t intend to pursue anything because of it, why do I always feel that you seem to be very resistant to having anything to do with him?"

    Bryan sat on the other side of the table, Lupin''s question didn''t make him react much, but smiled and pointed his eyes at the wine bottle on the table, and asked softly, "Do you know what kind of wine this is, Remus?"

    "Ogden''s Firewhisky, at least eighty years or more¨C"

    Although poor and destitute, Remus, who had been walking in the magical world for half his life, was obviously a knowledgeable wizard, and he quickly answered the question after his eyes settled on the bottle.

    "That''s why I don''t like to have too much involvement with him, Remus,"

    The bright golden candlelight danced in Bryan'' pale purple eyes, he maintained a faint smile, and said to the puzzled Remus,

    "Dumbledore is a very wise wizard, but the problem is, sometimes, he is a bit too smart. I keep my distance from him, hoping that Albus Dumbledore will maintain a rtively friendly rtionship, if we get too close¨C"

    Under Remus'' thoughtful gaze, Bryan smiled coldly, and stopped talking.

    Since leaving Hogwarts, this was the first time Bryan had a proper Halloween, no matter what the rtionship between him and Lupin was, mutual use, or a little appreciation, he still thanked Remus Lupin tonight.

    Time passed by, the atmosphere on the table was very pleasant, they didn''t talk about anything rted to Sirius ck, nor did they discuss Dumbledore, as the former and current Defense Against the Dark Arts professors of Hogwarts, they spent most of their time talking about the young wizards in the school, and Lupin also told him about the situation when he met Harry today.

    The sudden rainstorm made the temperature at the end of October even colder, but Bryan and Remus, who had drunk a lot of strong alcohol, didn''t feel anything.

    "By the way¨C"

    The table was a mess, Remus, with a blush on his cheeks, casually asked,

    "Why did you choose to go to the shrieking shack for magic experiments, Bryan, I went there with a bunch of friends when I was in school, and the environment inside was very bad, and it seemed that there were often beasts around?"

    "I haven''t encountered any beasts,"

    Bryan shrugged, he picked up a piece of chocte pudding and put it in his mouth, he savored the sweet and smooth taste, and said indifferently,

    "I chose the shrieking shack because it was secluded and quiet, and no one would bother me there. Besides, I don''t mind the bad environment, I''ve seen worse ces in my life. And as for the beasts, well, maybe they sensed my magic and decided to stay away from me-"

    Bryan, who was feeling a bit dizzy from the alcohol, continued, "But there is a cat who likes to run there to find rats to eat. It''s very quiet there, Remus, no one will bother me."

    Hearing this, Remus, whose eyes were hidden by a strand of hair that fell over his forehead, breathed a sigh of relief, he smiled and raised his ss to Bryan again, hoping to ease the tension.

    Boom!

    The deafening thunder made the earth tremble slightly, as if announcing the arrival of something ominous. Bryan also picked up his ss and returned to Remus, but when the ss was raised, his movement suddenly stopped, and he turned his head to look outside the door, with a sharp and alert expression.

    "What''s wrong, Bryan?"

    Remus asked, feeling a chill run down his spine. The abyss-like eyes of Bryan made him shiver, and in a trance, the young man opposite him had changed from Bryan Watson to Golden Viper.

    Thump¨C

    Bryan put down his ss, and he calmly said, "Something''s wrong."

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 0180 The Raging Storm

    0180 The Raging Storm

    Sirius ck''s daring escape from the high-security prison of Azkaban was like a menacing sword of Damocles hanging over the heads of most of the wizarding world, bringing great trouble and anxiety to their daily work and life. For Harry, this feeling was especially profound, as he was the target of the notorious fugitive who had betrayed his parents to Voldemort.

    The first week of school, after ck eluded the Ministry of Magic again, Hermione, who had been quarreling with Ron for a while because of Scabbers, his old and mangy rat, always reminded Harry not to do anything adventurous or reckless. Even Hagrid, the friendly half-giant, forbade him to visit him after dark, fearing for his safety.

    Outside, it was still stormy, with thunder rumbling and lightning shing, but the dome of the Great Hall was a pure and wless starry sky, enchanted to reflect the weather outside. Harry turned over in his sleeping bag, feeling no fear in his heart, but rather a sense of relief that the boot hanging in the air had finallynded.

    Hermione was exining to everyone in a whisper why ck couldn''t enter Hogwarts by apparition or flying, while Percy, Ron''s pompous brother, who had been promoted to head boy this year, walked briskly past the rows of sleeping bags, ordering the chattering little wizards to shut up and go to sleep in a stern voice.

    The professors were busy searching the castle, and every hour, one of them hurried back to the Great Hall to make sure nothing happened here. They looked tense and worried, as they knew that ck was a powerful and dangerous wizard, who had once been a loyal follower of Voldemort.

    At eleven o''clock at night, after checking the Ravenw dormitory, Professor Flitwick, the tiny and cheerful Charms teacher, returned to the Great Hall and confirmed that everything was safe here. He didn''t leave immediately, but ran to a group of Ravenw students and squatted down to say something to a little witch.

    Curious, Harry raised his head slightly and looked over there. After a few nces, he found that it was a Ravenw girl who was crying softly because of the shock, and Professor Flitwick came down tofort her. The girl looked a bit older than them, with a gentle face, and was beautiful, with long ck hair and almond-shaped eyes. She wore a blue and bronze scarf around her neck, the colors of her house. Harry raised his head higher and looked at her a few more times, feeling a strange attraction to her.

    The professors came in and out of the Great Hall, but they never saw Professor Lupin''s figure. He was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and Harry liked him very much. When they met during the day, Professor Lupin told him that he would not attend the Halloween feast, but would go to Hogsmeade to spend the holiday with a friend, but by this time, Professor Lupin should havee back.

    After a while, Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, who had also gone to check the castle, came in with a serious and grave expression. His stern eyes scanned around and found Percy, who was patrolling near Harry and the others, and then walked quickly towards him.

    "Professor, do you have any clues about him?"

    Percy asked in a low and eager voice, hoping to impress the headmaster with his diligence.

    "No, what about the situation here?"

    Dumbledore asked calmly, stroking his long silver beard.

    "Everything is normal, sir."

    Percy answered proudly, puffing out his chest. As Dumbledore and Percy were exchanging some information, the door of the Great Hall creaked open, and Snape, the beloved Potions master, hurried over, bringing the same news of nothing.

    "Have you thought about how he got in, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    Snape asked in a sneering and sarcastic tone, as if he knew something that Dumbledore didn''t.

    Percy was dismissed, and Harry turned his body and pretended to sleep. His ear looked like it was on the pillow, but it was actually floating, thanks to a charm that Hermione had cast. Hermione, Ron, and Dean, who shared a dormitory with Harry, were in the same situation. They all wanted to hear what Snape and Dumbledore were talking about.

    Snape''s gloomy expression was no different from usual, but there was a fire of hatred and anger in his ck eyes.

    "There are many possibilities, but none of them stand up to scrutiny, Severus,"

    Dumbledore''s voice was very deep and powerful. He looked down at Snape with no expression on his face.

    "Of course, if you have any brilliant insights, I''d love to hear them."

    Snape''s eyes lost their fire, and instead, there was deep resentment and bitterness.

    "It''s just a trivial insight, Dumbledore. Before the start of term, when you decided to hire that person, I also told you frankly about this possibility, and now the situation seems to confirm my guess, doesn''t it?"

    Dumbledore nced at the little ones pretending to sleep on the ground, and his deep blue eyes behind the half-moon sses were warning.

    "I''m sorry to say, Severus, I don''t see how the current situation has anything to do with the possibility you mentioned."

    Dumbledore''s tone clearly indicated that he wanted to end this topic, but it didn''t work. It only angered Snapepletely.

    The sallow face swelled red in a few breaths, Snape''s thin lips tightened, and the anger that lingered around him made Harry, who was a few feet away, feel his skin tighten. He felt a surge of fear and gloating for the Potions master, who seemed to be ready to explode at any moment.

    "Just tonight!"

    Snape gritted his teeth and said, his voice low and harsh.

    "He left, and ck broke into the castle. Do you think this is just a coincidence, Dumbledore?"

    He pointed his finger at the door, as if using Lupin of being an aplice of ck. The atmosphere became very tense, and many little wizards twisted their bodies unconsciously because of anxiety.

    Snape''s appearance made many young wizards who were secretly listening worry that he would pull out his wand and fight with Dumbledore in the Great Hall. They knew that Snape and Dumbledore were both very powerful and skilled wizards, and they did not want to witness a duel between them.

    "He went to spend Halloween with a friend, huh?"

    Snape pressed on, his eyes narrowing into slits.

    "Did you ask who his friend was, Dumbledore? Let me guess, it must be an ''old'' friend!"

    He spat out thest word with contempt, implying that Lupin and ck were still in contact.

    It was strange. Facing Snape''s questioning, Dumbledore didn''t order him to shut up, but instead, there was a strange light in his eyes. He moved his silver eyebrows, as if thinking about something. He seemed to be considering Snape''s words, and weighing the pros and cons of his next move.

    "If you''re really curious, Severus¨C"

    After a long time, Dumbledore, who suddenly realized that ck''s break-in was a very good opportunity, rxed his eyebrows.

    "Why don''t we go and see? Anyway, I think ck probably won''t stay in the castle for long."

    He smiled slightly, as if he had made a decision that would surprise Snape. Once he made up his mind, Dumbledore became swift and decisive. He gave Professor McGonagall, who came down from upstairs, an order, and threw a sentence to Snape, then walked up the stairs with a brisk pace. He did not wait for Snape to reply, but left him standing there, looking stunned and furious.

    Professor McGonagall, who was worried, walked to the side where the Slytherin students were sleeping, and Harry, who had been holding back for a long time, turned around, his green eyes full of confusion.

    "Harry!"

    Ron curled up like a Flobberworm and came over, and Neville, who had been kicked by Hermione, reluctantly gave up his position. He moved his sleeping bag to make room for Ron, who whispered to Harry,

    "Snape is suspecting that Professor Lupin helped ck, isn''t he? But how is that possible? What evidence does he have to think that?"

    Ron''s eyes blinked rapidly, showing his surprise and disbelief.

    Although her rtionship with Ron hadn''t improved much, Hermione still gave her opinion impatiently when she heard this.

    "It''s obvious, Ron. From their conversation we can tell that Professor Lupin knows ck. That''s not surprising. If Professor Lupin and ck are about the same age, then they probably went to Hogwarts together. Snape was probably in school then too. They all knew each other!"

    She rolled her eyes, as if Ron was being very slow.

    "Thanks, I almost didn''t catch on!" Ron red at Hermione and said sarcastically. He did not appreciate her tone or her attitude.

    "But what does that prove, Hermione?"

    Although he was a bit disgusted that Professor Lupin and ck, that bad guy, had been ssmates, Harry still defended Lupin. He lowered his voice and said, "Hagrid was a ssmate of Voldemort too!"

    He reminded Hermione that being in the same school and ss did not mean being on the same side.

    "But the point is,"

    Hermione ignored Ron''s provocative look. She said solemnly to Harry, "From Snape''s words we can tell that ck was probably on good terms with Professor Lupin before, butter, I guess, maybe because ck joined the Dark Lord, Professor Lupin broke up with him. But because of this, Snape doesn''t trust Professor Lupin."

    She tried to exin Snape''s logic, though she did not agree with it.

    "Then Snape should go back to his office and look in the mirror," Harry sneered, "maybe he was closer to Voldemort than ck!"

    He knew that Snape had been a Death Eater, a follower of Voldemort, before he changed sides.

    ''He had no right to use Lupin of anything'', Harry thought angrily.

    It had been two months since the start of school, andpared to the annoying Snape, everyone knew what kind of person Professor Lupin was. Most young wizards thought that Snape was just making a fuss, and that Snape was just resentful that Lupin had taken the position he wanted. No one really believed that Professor Lupin would be the traitor who helped ck enter Hogwarts.

    "However¨C"

    After ending the discussion, Harry faced the starry sky and muttered in a voice that only he could hear,

    "Who did Professor Lupin go to see?"

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 0181 Unexpected Visit

    0181 Unexpected Visit

    "What''s going on?"

    Lupin looked at the door in the direction of Bryan''s rmed gaze, and he repeated his words in confusion, "What do you mean?"

    Bryan did not answer, he adjusted his sitting posture, leaned on the back of the chair, and smiled and waited for the wooden door that was about to be covered to be knocked on, but what actually happened was much more intense than expected.

    Boom!

    As if someone had detonated a bomb at the door, the fragile door panel of Bryan''s cozy residence instantly turned into flying debris in the violent roar, the rapidly expanding air wave wrapped in smoke and dust raged from the entrance hall and rushed into the living room, Instantly sweeping over Bryan''s face.

    <em>Buzz</em>!

    The milky-white barrier that appeared out of thin air blocked the bullet-like sharp wood chips and rolling dust. Bryan was shocked and stood up from the stool. He really didn''t expect that his old Professor would be so furious.

    "Sorry, did I interrupt the reunion of old friends, Lupin!"

    Ignoring the equally surprised Dumbledore''s obstruction, Snape sneered and stormed into the room, and when he walked out of the dust and saw the faces of the two people who seemed to be dining in the living room, Snape''s expression, as if he was about to take revenge, was instantly frozen!

    The dust floating in the air slowly fell, and the half-moon lens cut through a fleeting light. Dumbledore shook his beard helplessly, carefully stepping on the rubble and rotten wood that was wet by the rain, and followed into the living room.

    One second, two seconds, three seconds. Silence became the main theme in the living room.

    Remus was stunned by Snape''s impulsiveness, Dumbledore''s hands crossed and pressed his beard on his lower abdomen, staring at the enchanted crude storm on the ceiling with interest, Bryan with tight lips and Snape with red cheeks looked at each other, the atmosphere in the room was weird and awkward.

    <em>Cough cough</em>-

    Looking at Professor Snape''s face, who looked as ugly as if he had swallowed a few juicy slugs, Bryan blinked innocently, and then, a bright smile appeared on his face,

    "Long time no see, Professor Snape, are you here to celebrate Halloween with me?"

    "Bryan Watson!"

    Snape clenched his wand, his face twitched slightly, he looked at Lupin for a while, and then looked at his proud student who hadn''t seen him for more than half a year, and finally couldn''t help but ''roar'',

    "Tell me, why are you here!"

    "Now you understand, Severus?"

    Dumbledore took out his wand and restored the damage caused by Snape one by one, and looked at him kindly and said,

    "Remus did not help ck break into the castle, he stayed with Bryan all night, I think, you don''t think Bryan is also ck''s helper, do you?"

    Dumbledore''s short sentence has told everyone the most important information. Lupin, who was stimted, turned pale on his cheeks that were red from drinking, and the knuckles of his hand pressed on the table were also white. He opened his mouth and stared at Dumbledore, his lips seemed to want to say something, but he didn''t make any sound.

    "Yes, Remus,"

    Dumbledore answered the question in Lupin''s eyes in a calm tone,

    "Just tonight, ck broke into Hogwarts, he tried to get into the Gryffindormon room and do something."

    Hearing this, Bryan''s eyelids trembled. The mark he nted on Harry during the summer vacation still exists, which means that Harry has not been kidnapped or had left the area around Hogwarts.

    "¨CFortunately, ck did not seed, no young wizard was injured, only a portrait was severely damaged."

    Dumbledore continued, "Weunched a search in the castle, but we haven''t found ck''s trace yet, Lupin, if you don''t mind, I hope you can go back to the castle now and help Minerva and others continue their search for ck."

    Lupin left without saying a word, and he didn''t even have time to say anything to Bryan. He grabbed his cloak and ran out of the door, leaving behind a trail of regret and guilt.

    The thunderstorm that raged for several hours finally stopped, and above the sky, the gale swept away the clouds, and the moon that was about to be full was looming in the clouds. Its pale light cast a shadow on Lupin''s face, making him look more haggard and restless.

    "You knew it a long time ago¨C"

    As soon as Lupin left here, Snape, who felt he had been fooled, burst out the anger in his heart. He moved his gaze away from Bryan, who had always been innocent, and stared at Dumbledore with a blue face. He clenched his fists and his voice trembled with rage.

    "You knew Bryan was in Hogsmeade a long time ago, Dumbledore, but you didn''t tell me anything!"

    "Oh, sorry, Severus, are you angry that I hid Bryan''s whereabouts from you?"

    Standing in this living room with a low ceiling from the ground, Dumbledore''s head was almost stuck into the rolling thundercloud.

    To avoid embarrassment, he sat directly on Lupin''s seat. Hearing Snape''s question, a smile appeared on his old face. He stroked his long silver beard and looked at Snape with a gentle and calm expression.

    "If that''s the case, Severus, I have to defend myself a bit. Although my memory is not as good as before, I don''t seem to remember that you asked me to pay attention to Bryan''s whereabouts?"

    Snape was breathless, and his expression felt like he had swallowed a few more juicy slugs. He red at Dumbledore, who seemed to be ying with him, and felt a surge of resentment in his chest.

    "What about you, Bryan"

    Snape gasped and stared at Bryan who had an ''innocent-me'' face, he pursed his lips and burst out word by word, "You obviously left Hogwarts, why did youe back, and how did you get together with that-!"

    "Uh, actually it''s like this¨C"

    Bryan scratched his cheek, showing a clear smile, but before he could make up some ghost stories such as Hogsmeade is surrounded by mountains and rivers, the environment is quiet, and he has been fighting outside for many years and he is tired and wants to settle here, he was interrupted by Snape''s angry tone.

    "I need you to tell the truth, Bryan!"

    Bryan blinked and continued to put on an innocent face. In a daze, he seemed to have returned to the scene of conversation he had after Snape caught him for secretly boiling forbidden potions in school.

    "For money-" Bryan said sinctly, "ck''s bounty, fifty thousand Galleons!"

    How to say, regarding this answer, Snape was not too surprised, he didn''t know Bryan for the first time today, when he was in and out of school, this guy did everything to get himself some Galleons.

    "Ha, fifty thousand Galleons¨C"

    Snape stared at Bryan, as if teaching a younger generation who had gone astray, and said angrily

    "Do you think you can get this money, Bryan, huh? ck. That dirty, annoying-¡­. , traitor, but since he can escape from Azkaban, do you think you can handle him?!"

    "What do you mean by that, Professor Snape?"

    Bryan smiled, he responded to Snape''s angry eyes, his tone was rxed, but he showed a very strong confidence, "I''m afraid you have a little misunderstanding about my current ability, professor, in today''s wizarding world, except for the old man outside who is eavesdropping on our conversation, I don''t think there is any wizard worthy of my serious treatment. In fact, what you should care about is, can ck handle me?"

    Bryan''s almost arrogant words stunned Snape, he looked up and down at Bryan, looking at the young wizard in front of him who was both his most admired student and like his younger brother, and he suddenly felt that he was a bit strange.

    "The growth of young people is so dazzling, Severus"

    Dumbledore looked up at the pure and wless starry sky after the thick clouds dispersed, and smiled and continued, "So that we always tend to ignore it subconsciously."

    Bryan lowered his eyes and smiled, without uttering a single word.

    But Snape was confused by Dumbledore''s sincere praise. Indeed, Bryan was the most outstanding young wizard he had ever seen in his teaching career, and even in his thirty years of life. He even thought that he might not be able to suppress the current Bryan, but-

    ''Except for Dumbledore, no one can deal with me''

    That was what Bryan had said, with a confident and arrogant tone, as if he was stating a fact. And Bryan''s arrogant self-evaluation actually got the recognition of the greatest wizard of their generation, which confused him.

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 0182 Defeat Me

    0182 Defeat Me

    Snape stared at Bryan''s smiling face with his unique sharp eyes, trying to see through the essence behind that confidence, but Bryan always responded to his scrutiny with a calm andposed manner, showing no sign of cowardice. Snape felt a surge of irritation and curiosity, wondering what secrets this boy was hiding behind his mask of indifference.

    ''When was thest time I saw Bryan fight?''

    Snape couldn''t help but think about this question, and without much effort, he remembered that it should be the night before Christmas in the fifth year, when Bryan had a fierce confrontation with a mysterious ck witch in the Forbidden Forest, and even, after Dumbledore returned, he shed with Dumbledore.

    At that time, he was focused on saving Bryan from Dumbledore''s hands, and he didn''t think much about how incredible it was for a fifth-year wizard to resist Dumbledore''s disarming charm, and when he came to his sensester, he wanted to find out Bryan''s true dueling level, but he found that it was hard to force him to go all out. Bryan always seemed to have a trump card up his sleeve, that he rarely revealed.

    This kid was in the fifth year. Snape moved his lips, and suddenly realized that he hadn''t seen Bryan fight for six years.

    Six years - for a talented young wizard, this was already a very long time, enough to make his strength change dramatically.

    But - Snape''s ck eyes moved, holding his breath, he still couldn''t understand, Bryan dared to im that only Dumbledore could make him take it seriously, was this a bit too arrogant? No, Snape shook his head in his heart, denying this view.

    He watched this kid grow up, and knew that Bryan was not a person who didn''t know himself, and besides, Bryan had been wandering outside for these years, and he knew the situation of the wizarding world better than him who had always stayed at Hogwarts.

    "Perhaps you have abandoned the virtues of humility and caution, Bryan -" Snape narrowed his dark eyes, and in a low voice, a gloomy and fierce magic power was sweeping out of his body.

    "But since you think that ck, a dangerous criminal, is not worth your serious attention, as your head of house, I think I have to make you realize again, what a ruthless dark wizard can do." He said, his voice dripping with venom.

    "Do you want to fight me, Professor Snape?"

    Bryan raised his eyebrows strangely,

    "I thought you knew I wasn''t the kind of person who talks big." He said, his voice calm and confident.

    "I used to think so, Bryan, but now I may have to change my opinion."

    The rows of flickering candles on the ceiling swayed violently under the deep magic, and the tip of a birch wand quietly emerged from Snape''s wide sleeve. He gripped it tightly, ready to unleash his fury and skill,

    "Take out your wand, Bryan, try to defeat me, and if you can''t, take your confidence and leave far away¡­. From here-"

    Snape''s tone wavered for a moment, but then became as firm as his eyes.

    "And nevere back!"

    Dumbledore said nothing, separated by a door panel, Bryan couldn''t see what his expression was, but obviously, he acquiesced to Professor Snape''s behavior, and even, he might want to take this opportunity to get a close look at his current level.

    Bryan sensed the old man''s silent observation, and felt a mix of gratitude and resentment,

    Looking at the determined Professor Snape, Bryan rubbed his forehead and smiled bitterly, he just wanted to spend Halloween with Lupin at his residence, but not only did he find Sirius ck, who had been missing for a while, suddenly jumped out, even Professor Snape wanted to pull out his wand andpete with him.

    Bryan felt a surge of amusement and annoyance, thinking that this was a ridiculous and unnecessary situation,

    ''Could it be that I still have Voldemort''s curse on me, and because I was too close to Lupin, it resonated?'' He joked in his mind, trying to find some humor in the chaos.

    He smiled, his eyes twinkling and yful.

    "If you insist on doing this -"

    Out of respect, Bryan put away his frivolity, his expression returned to calm, his right hand hanging naturally suddenly opened, and before Snape could react, the cozy living room where they stood, decorated with festive ornaments, expanded by several times in area in a hasty blur, and Bryan, who was originally in front of him, also appeared a hundred feet away, and, walking leisurely, approached Snape.

    "Then, as you wish."

    As Bryan''s voice fell, Snape, who hade to his senses, suddenly felt like he had fallen into deep water, a clear pressure lingered around him, and this pressure was so heavy that it made him feel suffocated! The slender figure that was approaching from a hundred feet away became tall and insurmountable at this moment, and even the rhythmic footsteps exuded majesty. Snape felt a chill run down his spine, as if he was facing a predator that could tear him apart at any moment.

    ''This feeling'' - Snape''s eyes showed horror, he had experienced it on the Dark Lord!

    The Dark Lord may not necessarily be the most powerful, but there is no problem in calling him the most evil. Most of the Wizarding world had never experienced what it was like to face Voldemort, but Snape, who had followed him, knew that the crushing sense of powerlessness, fear and despair are deeply rooted in the soil of the soul, making you unable to muster the courage to resist.

    But now, after many years, Snape never dreamed that he would relive this nightmare-like fear on another wizard, and this wizard was his proud student who was in his early twenties.

    At this moment, Snape believed that Bryan had the strength to face Dumbledore, a legendary wizard, but he still raised his wand, he wanted to try if Bryan could break hisposure. He wanted to see if he could still surprise him with something.

    "<strong>Expelliarmus</strong>!"

    Apanied by a sharp shout, the red beam of light that shot out from the tip of the wand crossed the eighty feet distance in the blink of an eye, and very urately grazed Bryan''s cheek. But it didn''t hit. Snape felt a sh of frustration and admiration, knowing that Bryan had dodged his spell with a subtle movement, and anticipated his attack.

    Tap, tap, tap

    The steady footsteps made Snape''s eyelids tremble, he failed to test him. The young man was no longer the young wizard who was wary of everything at the sorting ceremony many years ago! He was distracted for a moment, and the distance between the two hade to fifty feet.

    Snape swallowed a mouthful of saliva, he knew he had to use more powerful magic, but he was worried about it, he narrowed his eyes, and raised his wand again, suddenly pointing at Bryan.

    <em>Silent spell casting</em>, ''<strong>Expulso</strong>!''

    Boom!

    Bryan didn''t dodge the spell, the milky white iron armor barrier that appeared out of thin air after being modified twice by magic didn''t fit in front of him, but unexpectedly appeared in front of Snape five feet away, and this directly resulted in Professor Snape being blown away by the explosion caused by the dissipation of his own Expulso Spell! Snape felt a st of heat and pain, as he was thrown back by the force of his own magic, and crashed into the wall behind him, he felt his bones and muscles ache.

    Tap, tap, tap

    The footsteps were still stable, greasy ck hair stuck to his cheek, Snape, who looked miserable, got up from the ground, and looked at Bryan again, with an incredulous expression on his face.

    Snape knew that his genius student was very good at modifying standard spells, but to make the iron armor charm cross such a distance and appear directly in front of the opponent. He didn''t know how he did it, but he knew it meant that Bryan had the ability to make the iron armor barrier have moreplex shape changes.

    The distance between the two had narrowed to fifty feet, and at this distance, Snape could clearly see Bryan''s expression. Like the deep blue sea, calm and without a ripple, but under the deep and unfathomable sea surface, there was a radiating aura affecting the surrounding that was irresistible.

    A sense of powerlessness rose from Snape''s heart, he hadn''t done his best, he still knew many advanced dark magic, some of which were powerful magic taught by the Dark Lord himself, with terrifying effects that made people despair.

    But Snape never thought of using those magic, at first because he didn''t want to hurt Bryan, and now because he knew that even if he did, it wouldn''t have any effect.

    "Do you remember the magic I taught you, Bryan!"

    Sweat ran down his cheek, Snape straightened up, panting and said, "I warned you, only use it when your life is threatened."

    "Sectumsempra -" Bryan''s footsteps didn''t stop, he smiled and said, "A very powerful offensive magic, a year ago in the Norwegian Fire Dragon Nature Reserve, I used this spell to kill that red-scaled dragon."

    Snape''s face darkened, if this matter was dug up someday, he will be famous-

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 0183 Return (Part-1)

    0183 Return (Part-1)

    "I hope you can handle this, Bryan."

    With a flick of his wand, Snape unleashed a barrage of silver des that fell from the dome like a deadly waterfall, slicing through the ground with a sweeping force. The air that was also cut by the des made a sharp scream, as if protesting the intrusion of the powerful magic. The space that was expanded by magic to amodate the duel became very unstable, distorting and twisting everything in sight. It was a terrifying sight, enough to make anyone lose their nerve.

    I have to say that Professor Snape is a very powerful wizard. Last year, Bryan had introduced young wizards, about the ancient system of judging the strength of a wizard in the ss of Defense Against the Dark Arts. At that time, he mentioned that the seniors of the four houses of Hogwarts had the level of ''court wizards'' in their respective fields of expertise. And in the field of actualbat, they also deserved this title. They mastered various spells and techniques, and they had honed their skills through years of practice and experience.

    Especially Professor Snape, who learned more dark magic than anyone else, hisbat level was better than the other three professors!He studied the dark arts since he was a student, and he had invented many spells of his own.

    "How are you going to deal with this, Bryan?"

    Snape finally used this magic that he invented himself, and it was also his best magic. It was a spell that could cut through anything, even the strongest shield charm.

    "How to deal with it"

    Bryan smiled and raised his lips, ying with his heart, and under the gaze of Professor Snape, facing the sharp silver des, he closed his eyes and opened his arms as if to give up resistance.

    "Bryan!"

    When those swift and sharp silver des cut through ''Bryan''s'' body like a hot knife through butter, and the limbs that were divided into pieces piled up on the ground weakly, Snape''s face suddenly turned pale. In an instant, he let out a sharp scream. He wanted to rush over, but the sudden weakness made his body powerless and fell to the ground!

    Outside the room, Dumbledore, who was quietly enjoying the starry sky, shook his beard, and his eyes showed a faint helplessness.

    Cough cough-

    There was despair in Snape''s eyes, he who was about to cry, but suddenly froze. He stiffly turned his head to look in the direction of the cough, but saw another intact Bryan showing a look of a young wizard who was caught by the professor after a prank, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

    "Illusion magic!"

    The strength returned to his body, Snape gritted his teeth and stood up,

    "I didn''t expect you to be good at this, Bryan, just like Filius!"

    "A little bit of aplishment-"

    Bryan said with a smile, and thanked Professor Lockhart in his heart again.

    Those wizards who are good at ulumency have a strong resistance to this kind of magic, and Professor Snape happens to be a master in this area. If he was calm, then Bryan''s illusion magic might not work, but Snape, who was emotionally excited by the two things of Sirius ck breaking into Hogwarts and his appearance in Hogsmeade, caught his mental loophole.

    And for those wizards whose will is not very firm, illusion magic often has an unexpected effect, just like before in the Leaky Cauldron, Lucius Malfoy waspletely unable to resist the illusion woven by Bryan.

    After being teased by the students, Snape, who was a bit angry and embarrassed, finally showed his true level. He lifted his wizard robe and rolled it forward. The dark magic covered his whole body, and the whole person turned into a rolling ck mist, and went straight into the air. In the huge space, the rapidly-moving ck cloud left clear ck traces in the space, and those misty clouds did not dissipate with the passage of time, but always maintained a gathering state, and gradually sank, like a ck cloud ring trapping Bryan.

    "Interesting-"

    Bryan looked at the fast-closing ck rings with interest and smiled slightly, "Prevent apparition and have severe toxicity. Interesting magic, Professor Snape, you didn''t teach me this trick."

    "Not only that, Bryan"

    The ck cloud that suddenly stopped in front of Bryan''s upper front rolled violently, and those ethereal clouds gradually became real, like a bat floating in the air. Professor Snape reappeared, and he looked down at Bryan coldly and said,

    "If you touch these ck rings, then¡­"

    Bryan''s voice trailed off, and Snape''s wax-yellow face turned ck again, as if he had been hit by a curse. Above Bryan''s head, a silver and ck intertwined vortex appeared out of thin air, spinning rapidly and emitting a low hum. It was only as big as a millstone, but it had the power of a sea eye, a rare and dangerous magical phenomenon that could swallow up any magic power in its vicinity.

    The ck rings that Snape had conjured with great effort, hoping to trap Bryan in a dark and suffocating prison, were attracted by the irresistible force of the vortex. Under the pull, they copsed one by one, and were all swallowed up by the hungry eye, leaving no trace behind.

    Huh-

    Snapended on the ground with a thud, his robes billowing in the wind. He watched Bryan walking leisurely towards him, his wand still in his hand, but he did not try to attack again.

    Although it was only a few rounds of fighting, he had used the most suitable magic for dealing with opponents of various levels, from simple jinxes and hexes to advanced curses. But the result was that he didn''t even touch Bryan''s wizard robe, let alone harm him. Bryan had countered every spell with ease, using his own unique and powerful magic that Snape had never seen before. It was as if he had mastered the secrets of the universe, and Snape was just a child ying with toys.

    "Your defense is indeed impable, Bryan-"

    Snape himself was also a very talented wizard, and such people always had pride in their hearts. Seeing that he was so easily surpassed by the student he had once protected, his mind was inevitablyplicated.

    "But this does not mean that you can-"

    Boom!

    The sudden low hum interrupted his words again. Snape only had time to see Bryan smiling and raising his wand to make a downward shing motion. Then, the magic in his body uncontrobly rioted, making his consciousness instantly blurred. It felt like he was being torn apart by a thousand needles, and he couldn''t even scream. It seemed tost for an eternity, and it seemed to be over in a blink of an eye.

    Snape, who had richbat experience, regained his consciousness and raised his wand, instinctively trying to cast a shield charm in front of him. But his arm was only half raised, when another young hand suddenly pressed his wrist, stopping his movement.

    Snape looked sideways in a daze, and what he met was a familiar face with a gentle smile. It was Bryan, who had somehow closed the distance between them in an instant, and was now holding his wand arm with a firm grip.

    He lowered his head and looked at his captured wrist again. He didn''t know why, Snape was in a trance, and he suddenly remembered the night in the Forbidden Forest six years ago. At that time, he had done the same thing. He had pressed Dumbledore''s arm, who wanted to cast another spell, and stopped him,

    "You should trust me, Professor Snape."

    Bryan''s voice was soft, but carried a weight that Snape couldn''t ignore.

    "No matter what the situation, you should trust me."

    Looking at the young face, Snape''s expression changed subtly. He felt a surge of emotion in his chest, but he couldn''t tell what it was.

    Was it fear, anger, guilt, or something else?

    Since Lily died that night, he could no longer feel the passage of time. He suddenly realized at this moment that it had been twelve years since that heart-wrenching moment, and he had also changed from a young man who made a big mistake because of stupidity to a middle-aged man who was exhausted by his double life. He had sacrificed everything for a cause that he didn''t even believe in, and he had nothing left to live for.

    He seemed to be old;

    Under the starry sky, Dumbledore and Bryan stood side by side, watching Snape''s back gradually disappear at the end of the road as he strode towards the castle. They didn''t say anything, but they both knew what happened. Both of them had seen the look in Snape''s eyes, the look of a man who had lost his way.

    "Lone wanderer."

    The cold wind at night blew, Bryan pressed his gray hair that was dancing on his head, and sighed for no reason.

    "Severus has never been able to get rid of the past-"

    Dumbledore''s eyes were no longer clear, but also showed turbidity and pain. He had seen too much in his long life, and he had made too many mistakes. He failed to protect many people he cared about, and he also failed to guide Snape to a better path. He hoped that Snape would find peace in his redemption, but he had only found more suffering and loneliness.

    And Snape was not the only one who could not get rid of the past.

    "Is it because of Harry''s mother?"

    Bryan asked in an affirmative tone. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Dumbledore.

    "I''m afraid so-"

    Dumbledore didn''t ask Bryan where he knew this, but just showed a sad expression.

    "-If you are willing, Bryan, after Sirius ck''s matter is over, I can chat with you about Severus''s past."

    After a short silence, Bryan nodded.

    "I heard from Lupin that you have arranged a position for me?"

    "Director of the Office of Student Safety at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, what do you think of this title?"

    Dumbledore blinked his clear blue eyes and showed a yful smile.

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    Author''s Note; Is the title of Position good or do you guys have any suggestion regarding this?

 0184 Return (Part-2)

    0184 Return (Part-2)

    ''Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Student Safety Office Director?''

    Bryan blinked his blue eyes and smiled nonchntly, his grey hair shining in the candlelight.

    ''The title sounded a bit better than ''Castle Security Officer''.''

    He shrugged his shoulders, as if it was not a big deal.

    "¨CI easily convinced the board of governors to agree to my request, perhaps, it was the troubled days of the past two years that made them realize that we should really think about the safety of the young wizards."

    Dumbledore said in a rxed tone, his twinkling eyes behind the half-moon spectacles reflecting the wisdom and kindness of the old wizard.

    "I n to put the castle administrator and gamekeeper under the management of this department, in addition to arranging the daily patrol of the castle by the Head boy and girl and the prefects of each house, this department will also have a very special right."

    He continued, his voice calm and steady. Bryan looked sideways at Dumbledore, waiting for his exnation. He sensed that there was something more to this new position than just a fancy name.

    "¨CThose monitoring devices you left in the school, Bryan, I think they are wasted in Argus''s office, I havemunicated with the board of governors and the Ministry of Magic, in special times, I mean when there are some events that will threaten the safety of the young wizards in the school, then those alchemy devices will be legally used."

    Bryan raised his eyebrows in surprise, this was not an easy thing to negotiate. He had invented those devices using his knowledge of alchemy and magic, and they could detect any unusual movements or activities in the castle and its surroundings. He had left them in the school as a precaution, but he did not expect that they would be officially recognized and authorized by the authorities.

    Speaking of which, Dumbledore showed some regret, his face clouded with sadness.

    "I have talked with Minerva, and we both think that your alchemy devices are indeed useful, if it weren''t for them, before Miss Weasley was taken into the Chamber of Secretsst semester, maybe more young wizards would have been hurt. Tonight, if they were there, we probably would have found out about ck''s intrusion into the school in time."

    He sighed, his eyes darkening with worry.

    "Do you have a reasonable inference, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    Bryan asked with a frown.

    "The most likely possibility is that ck took a detour from the Forbidden Forest," Dumbledore pondered, stroking his long silver beard.

    "But we''ll have to wait for Hagrid to ask his magical creature friends."

    He added, referring to the half-giant gamekeeper who had a fondness for all kinds of beasts and beings.

    With Dementors and many ancient wards, the defense of Hogwarts was like an iron wall, if Bryan wanted to sneak into Hogwarts, he would probably choose from the Forbidden Forest as well, but sneaking into Hogwarts from the Forbidden Forest, which was densely vegetated and inhabited by numerous and varied creatures, was still a difficult thing to do, you never knew who was peering at you from the corner with a pair of eyes.

    "About the Student Safety Office Director¨C"

    Dumbledore suddenly smiled and said, changing the topic. He seemed to sense Bryan''s difort and wanted to cheer him up.

    "In less tense situations, I mean, when the teaching activities can proceed normally, you can leave Hogwarts freely to do your own things, Bryan."

    Bryan smacked his lips, not knowing what to say, ''Did Dumbledore change his mind, just let him go to make extra money?''

    "¨CThe Student Safety Office Director, has a heavy responsibility because he needs to bear the personal safety of all young wizards, the board of governors thinks that the importance of this position is equivalent to that of deputy headmaster, so, your sry and Minerva''s are the same, Bryan, both are 1200 galleons¨C"

    Dumbledore announced while his eyes were sparkling with mischief.

    ''Ahem, you have to know how to say the key points first, Dumbledore!''

    *<em>Scene-break</em>*

    Before dawn, the biting cold enveloped the earth, the horizon, the boundary between the earth and the sky still did not see a trace of light, but the starlight and moonlight above the sky gradually dimmed, the dark that made people sink was rampant, like a thick nket covering the world.

    The brilliant firelight shed in the deep night, a short and a tall, two equally thin figures appeared on the steps outside the castle gate, their silhouettes contrasting with the warm glow behind them.

    Everything in sight was almost no different from when they left, this ancient castle seemed to dwell in the gap of time, regardless of the years like flowing water, alone and still. It stood proudly on the edge of theke, its towers and turrets silhouetted against the dark sky. It was a symbol of magic and history, a home for generations of witches and wizards, a ce of wonder and mystery.

    "Minerva will be very happy¨C" Dumbledore''s beard was covered with crystal dew, he smiled and said,

    "As the deputy headmaster, besides teaching, she also has to ensure the normal operation of the school, whenever there is a special situation, she always gets very anxious, now, finally there is someone who can share some of the responsibility for her."

    "Ensuring the normal operation of the school is the responsibility of the headmaster, not the deputy headmaster or the student safety office director, Headmaster Dumbledore."

    Bryan rolled his eyes and said politely, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

    "Oh, if you say so, I have to do something myself-"

    Dumbledore wanted to exin something, but Bryan ignored him, he walked straight to the magnificent gate, which was carved with intricate patterns and symbols, and guarded by two stone lions. He pursed his lips, and smiled, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

    ''Hogwarts, I''m back.''

    The restless young wizards who had been discussing how ck sneaked into the castle for most of the night fell asleep, because no matter what happened tonight, tomorrow''s sses would always continue, under the starry sky of the Great Hall, which was enchanted to reflect the weather outside, Except for the asional footsteps of the professors passing by, there was only the snoring of the young wizards echoing each other, some of them clutching their wands or brooms in their dreams.

    Although Hermione and Ron had already fallen asleep, Harry was only pretending to sleep, because the other young wizards could treat ck''s intrusion into the castle as a strange and unusual thing, but he couldn''t do that, after all, ck wasing for him, Harry was not sure if this cunning criminal was still lurking in the dark, taking advantage of Dumbledore''s absence from Hogwarts, to make aeback.

    ''Speaking of which, Lupin had hurried back to the castle a while ago and joined the night patrol team. He looked pale and exhausted, as if he had been through a lot.

    Snape also returned to the school, apparently, he had figured out that the old friend he met with Lupin was not ck, he came back and went straight upstairs without appearing again, but Dumbledore had not been seen until now, shouldn''t they havee back together?''

    Harry wondered what had happened between them, and why Dumbledore had left the school at such a critical time.

    Without Dumbledore, Hogwarts always felt less reassuring, Harry couldn''t help thinking about where Dumbledore had gone, he tossed and turned in his sleeping bag, restless for a long time, finally, he couldn''t stand the heat and decided to get up and breathe. He put on his sses and his cloak, and tiptoed towards the door, careful not to wake anyone up.

    Squeak! The sound of the door hinge rotating was very harsh in the quiet hall, Harry, who was halfway up, rolled back into his sleeping bag, facing the direction of the castle gate, and secretly looked through the bright starlight scattered from the night sky on the ceiling of the hall.

    Oh! With Just one nce, Harry eximed like he was celebrating a victory in a Quidditch match!

    *<em>SceneBreak</em>*

    When Bryan stepped into the same office asst year again, he knew from the moment he saw the furnishings in the room that Dumbledore probably had been thinking about how to put the title of Student Safety Office Director on his head for a long time. Tonight ck attacked the castle, and the sudden ''meeting'' with Professor Snape gave him a very good opportunity.

    Bryan didn''t mind, he liked the office, it was spacious andfortable, and it had everything he needed. He felt a sense of nostalgia, as he looked around the room. The desks, bookshelves, Bunk bed, firece. Everything was as it was before, even the ck curtain covering the monitoring wall was spotless. The monitoring wall was a alchemy device that allowed Bryan to observe the whole school, and detect any anomalies or threats.

    A temporary meeting was being held in this office that was used again, the participants were the owner of the office Bryan, the headmaster Albus Dumbledore, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Lupin, the deputy headmistress Minerva McGonagall and the castle caretaker Argus Filch who had already clearly belonged to the management of the owner of the Student Safety Office.

    "Although I said this a few months ago¨C"

    McGonagall, who had been busy for most of the night, had a messy round bun behind her head, the weakness between her eyebrows showed that she was very tired, but she still squeezed out a smile for Bryan. She was the one who had organized the evacuation of the students and the search for ck, and she had done a remarkable job, despite the chaos and the danger.

    She walked over to Bryan, and greeted him with a warm hug. She said, "But I have to say it again, Bryan, wee back to Hogwarts. I''m so happy to see you. You don''t know how much we missed you."

    "Thank you, Professor McGonagall¨C"

    Bryan waved his wand and conjured a few chairs, helping the old and overworked McGonagall to sit down, while the older but energetic Dumbledore obviously knew that he didn''t have this treatment, he happily found a stool and sat down, his beard and robes sparkling with dewdrops.

    Lupin, who had a gloomy face, went to the shelf above the firece to make tea for everyone, his movements slow and careful, as if he was afraid of breaking something. He looked pale and weary, his eyes haunted by shadows, as if he had seen something terrible.

    Only Filch, who faced his new direct boss, was full of hesitation, not knowing what to do. He stood awkwardly near the door, clutching hisntern and his cat Mrs. Norris, his expression a mixture of fear and resentment, as if he was expecting to be scolded or dismissed at any moment.

    "Sit down, Argus!" Bryan said kindly.

    "Oh, Mr. Watson¡­.. sir, I''m fine standing!"

    Filch, who had big bags under his eyes, was terrified, his bulbous nose was red and shiny, his voice trembling and hoarse, as if he had been shouting all night. But in the end, he couldn''t resist Bryan''s gentle eyes, he half-assed on the stool, trying to straighten his back and sit down, his posture stiff and ufortable, like a puppet on a lonely string.

    "So now¨C"

    Bryan, who quickly entered the role, looked around and said calmly.

    "Who can tell me more about the current situation?"

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 0185 Dawn

    0185 Dawn

    "It is certain that ck did note in from the school grounds, and those dementors guarding the entrance will not be easily fooled by him again."

    Lupin rubbed his eyebrows wearily and said, his voice hoarse from the long night of searching,

    "And it can also be basically confirmed that he has left Hogwarts, we searched the entire castle, leaving no stone unturned, including themon rooms of the four houses, the student dormitories, the hospital wing, the underground corridors, the observatory, the library and Professor Sprout''s greenhouse, and found no traces of hiding. Hagrid is currently asking the magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest, and has note back yet."

    Bryan nodded slightly, quietly pondering, and suddenly, he remembered the ghost girl who hid in the bathroomst year, who clearly saw everything, but said nothing. He wondered if there was anyone else who had witnessed something unusual, but had kept silent for some reason.

    "Since the Fat Lady confirmed that it was ck who hurt her. I mean, sneaking into the Gryffindor tower, finding that he couldn''t enter themon room and then escaping from the castle, this is a long distance, even if all the little wizards and staff are in the Great Hall for Halloween, there should be some portraits and ghosts who witnessed his movements."

    "We have confirmed with them¨C"

    Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and said, her expression stern and frustrated, "The ghosts were all in the basement celebrating Halloween in their own way, and the portraits were gathered together, they didn''t see how ck came in. Peeves, who was kicked out of the ghosts'' party for making trouble, was the first to find the frightened Fat Lady hiding in andscape painting on the fifth floor. In short, ck picked a good time."

    "Yes, cunning ck!"

    In front of the headmaster, director and professors, the inconspicuous Filch seized the opportunity to nod and agree. His eyes gleamed with malice as he hoped that ck would be caught and punished severely for his crimes.

    "Good timing¨C"

    Professor McGonagall''s casual remark made Bryan''s eyebrow twitch slightly, and he muttered a few words in a low voice, as if he had noticed something unusual.

    Dumbledore, who had his fingers crossed on his right leg, remained inexplicably silent, as if he had no intention of joining the conversation, but when he heard the few words Bryan muttered, Dumbledore''s cheek also moved slightly, and a glint shed in his eyes. He turned his head to look at Bryan, and the gazes of the two pairs of different-colored pupils met in mid-air, as if they had a tacit understanding. They seemed to share a moment of understanding, as if they had both realized something important.

    "Oh, please!" Professor McGonagall said impatiently, "Don''t make me guess at this time!"

    Ahem!

    Bryan coughed a little awkwardly, and then, after organizing his words in his mind, he slowly said, his tone calm and logical,

    "It''s just a thought, Professor McGonagall, do you think ck chose Halloween on purpose to break into Hogwarts, or was it just a coincidence? If he didn''t n it, maybe he was too confused from being in Azkaban. But if he did, what was his goal in trying to enter the Gryffindormon room? He must have known that all the students, including Potter, were at the feast, and the dormitory was empty."

    Bryan''s statement made McGonagall and Lupin stunned, to be honest, they had indeed overlooked this point.

    "Maybe¨C"

    After a while, Professor McGonagall hesitated and guessed, "ck wanted to sneak into the student dormitory and wait for the child toe back¨C"

    "That''s possible."

    Bryan nodded and said, his eyes fixed on Lupin, whose eyebrow was hidden in the deep shadow, as if he was hiding something.

    "But that would mean that he had no intention of leaving after the murder. Is that his choice?"

    The top secret that the students didn''t know was probably just ordinary information among the professors, and everyone here knew that among them, only Lupin knew ck best.

    "I''m sorry, I don''t know what ck would do." Lupin said apologetically in a gloomy tone, his face pale and his eyes haunted by memories. "I used to think I knew him very well, but it turned out that he was not what I imagined."

    It was always unpleasant to discuss betrayal, and Professor McGonagallforted Lupin softly, patting his shoulder gently. Bryan did not pressure him with his eyes.

    "Okay, let me think, Argus,"

    Bryan paused for a moment and turned his gaze to Filch, who was standing nervously by the door. He asked him in a calm voice, "Are the secret passages leading to the outside world in the castle sealed? I don''t want us to make such a very low-level mistake that would allow ck to sneak in again."

    "All four secret passages were sealed before the start of school, Mr. Watson!"

    Filch snapped to attention, his tone respectful enough to make Bryan feel a bit surprised, but after thinking about it, Bryan could understand, Last semester he was the investigator sent by the board of governors to investigate the Chamber of Secrets incident and the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, both of which were temporary positions, and neither of whichsted long. But the Student Safety Office director was a permanent position, especially since Dumbledore had made it clear that the castle caretaker was under the jurisdiction of the Safety Office director.

    Although in the castle, Filch was despised as a nuisance by some troublemakers, but outside, he was doing a job that many capable wizards envied, and as a squib, he was naturally afraid of losing his dream job!

    When Bryan mentioned the secret passages, Lupin''s body trembled violently, and his lowered eyes showed intense struggle, but in the end, he said nothing.

    *<em>SceneBreak</em>*

    Dawn was approaching, and the world outside the window was no longer a thick and pure ck, but a faint grayish-white, heralding the arrival of a new day. The distant horizon, with a hint of pink and orange, was awakening the sleeping creatures. The first rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, casting a faint glow on the castle and theke.

    "Okay¨C"

    Bryan walked to the window and opened the sash, letting the damp and cold morning breeze blow his hair as much as possible. He felt exhausted after a sleepless night, but he knew he had to act quickly.

    "Hagrid hasn''te back yet, but I think the chances of him bringing good news are not great. He went to look for ck in the Forbidden Forest, but I doubt he would find him there. ck is too smart and cunning to hide in such an obvious ce. I''ll reset those panoramic telescopes as soon as possible, and before that, I''ll add some warning rm features to them, as long as ck tries to break into the castle again, no matter which corner hees in from, as soon as his face is captured by the lens, then all the telescopes in the castle will sound an rm at the same time, notifying the young wizards to evacuate as soon as possible."

    Bryan''s n was undoubtedly a good one, and in the current situation where they could not find ck''s invasion route, the most important thing was to make sure he couldn''t break in again.

    The panoramic telescopes were magical devices that could show the view of most ces in the castle, and Bryan had installed them in many corridors and halls. By adding some enchantments, he could make them detect ck''s presence and alert everyone. He hoped that this would prevent any harm from happening to the students, especially Potter, who was ck''s target.

    When the morning light came, he was the only one left in this office, and after a sleepless night, everyone took advantage of the time before ss to rest. Bryan alsoy on his bed, closed his eyes and quietly thought about the unanswered question.

    Did ck just happen to run into Hogwarts on Halloween, or did he do it on purpose? Bryan couldn''t answer this question, but his keen intuition was telling him that this was not a coincidence. There must be some hidden motive behind ck''s actions, something that he didn''t know yet.

    Sirius ck, like Remus Lupin, was an important plot character, and Bryan only had a vague impression, as if both of them died in the end.

    "Die together?"

    Bryan whispered to himself, "I wonder if Lupin died because of the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor position, hmm, if that''s the case, I feel a bit guilty. Should I break his two wolf legs in advance?"

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 0186 Reactions

    0186 Reactions

    On the first day of his long-awaited return to Hogwarts, Bryan did not nned too many working tasks for himself. He enjoyed a leisurely sleep in the morning, spent some time in his office in the afternoon to modify the old panoramic telescope that had been gathering dust in Filch''s office for half a year, and took a well-deserved rest in the first half of the night. In the second half of the night, when the young wizards were sound asleep, he sneaked back to the Astronomy Tower and returned the telescope to its original ce.

    But it turned out that he was too na?ve.

    Only two hours after he had closed his eyes, he was awakened by a loud knock on the door of his office. He opened the door and saw Professor McGonagall, who had already changed into her nightgown and retightened her bun, standing there with a pile of parchment that was almost as tall as her. She had a gleeful expression on her face, as if she had just won the lottery.

    Facing the sleepy and confused Bryan, Professor McGonagall''s tone was full of excitement,

    "This stack is the patrol schedule of the prefects reported by the male and female Head Boy & Girl. You need to review it and make sure there are no conflicts or loopholes; this stack is the approval of the maintenance costs of the Quidditch Pitch and the castle reported by Hagrid and Filch separately in November; this stack is the list of prohibited items that Filch updated for the young wizards; this stack is the admission application forms for the third to seventh grade students to go to Hogsmeade on weekends, you need to keep a copy here and send another one to Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks, oh, and this one-"

    She went on and on, handing over one stack of parchment after another to Bryan, who could barely hold them in his arms.

    Ten minutester, Professor McGonagall, who was so happy that she walked on tiptoe, and said goodbye to Bryan with a cheerful smile, and hurriedly left.

    ''Who am I, and what am I here for.''

    Bryan muttered to himself, as he stood in front of his office, holding a pile of parchment that was three feet thick, doubting his life choices.

    *<em>Scenebreak</em>*

    "We are all your loyal supporters, Professor Watson!"

    At nine o''clock, Marcus Flint, who had no ss in the morning, brought a few Slytherin team members and rushed into Bryan''s office. He said to Bryan, who was sitting behind the desk and frowning at those forms, with a ttering smile on his face,

    "We heard the news and came here right away. If you want to, we can also help you patrol the castle and maintain order! We can keep an eye on those troublemakers from Gryffindor and Ravenw, and make sure they don''t break any rules!"

    "Thank you for your support, Flint¨C"

    Bryan frowned, his expression a bit weird, and said,

    "But I hope you can focus on Quidditch and your studies. If I remember correctly, you should have graduated from Hogwartsst year. By the way, how many years has it been since the school had a repeater?"

    Flint left, his face red with shame. He muttered something like ''<em>Its Rowling''s fault</em>'' under his breath, and dragged his teammates away.

    At ten o''clock, after finishing the first ss, Draco Malfoy came in with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson, and threw out a sentence of ''I''m d to see you back, professor'' with a bad smirk on his face.

    "Potter doesn''t seem to know what ck did back then, Professor Watson. Otherwise, I bet he would go to ck for revenge, oh, I wish he would do that. If it weren''t for Professor Snape forbidding me to tell Potter these things."

    Draco said, with a malicious glint in his eyes.

    ''Professor Snape forbade Malfoy to tell Potter that his parents died because of ck''s betrayal. Sure enough, Professor Snape''s feelings for Potter are moreplicated than i imagined.''

    Bryan thought to himself, as he nced at Malfoy''s arm, which was wrapped in bandages and hung around his neck. He remembered that Malfoy had been bitten by Buckbeak, Hagrid''s hippogriff, during the Care of Magical Creatures ss, and that his father, Lucius Malfoy, had filed aint to the Ministry of Magic, demanding that Buckbeak be executed.

    "I have to say¨C" Bryan said, with a kind smile on his face, and said, "Your new outfit is very fashionable, Malfoy. It suits you very well."

    Draco''s face turned red, and he hurriedly took off the sling from his neck, acting a bit restless, because he suddenly remembered that Hagrid, that big idiot, seemed to be under the jurisdiction of the Student Safety Office Director, which meant that he was currently framing Professor Watson''s subordinate. In a trance, Malfoy remembered the eight-eyed spider which was hiding in his dormitory.

    "The Ministry of Magic has-, has epted the case, professor. If you are unhappy, I can ask my father to withdraw thewsuit."

    Malfoy stuttered, trying to appease Bryan.

    "I won''t interfere in this matter, Malfoy, do as you wish."

    Bryan blinked, thought for a moment and said.

    Hagrid''s unhealthy obsession and excessive indulgence with magical creatures was a bit reckless, so that he often misjudged the danger of the creatures themselves. Before, this had nothing to do with Bryan, and he was not willing to interfere with other people''s hobbies for no reason, but now that Hagrid was under the jurisdiction of the Student Safety Office, Bryan thought it was a good thing to take the opportunity to teach him a lesson, so that such incidents would not happen again and again in the future, and Dumbledore, who was unwilling to interfere too much with the Ministry of Magic, would not have to throw himself out to take the bullet for him.

    "I haven''t had time to thank you, Professor Watson¨C"

    After Malfoy left, a few Hufflepuff students who had been waiting outside rushed in. Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Muggle-born boy with curly brown hair and sses, said enthusiastically,

    "My mother was so worried about me after she found out that I was petrified for half a semester because of my Muggle blood, and learned from the Daily Prophet that Gilderoy Lockhart was a big liar. She didn''t want me toe back to Hogwarts to study. But I told her that the snake that petrified me had been solved by you. She reluctantly agreed to let mee back. I want to tell her the news that you are back to Hogwarts and in charge of our safety. I think she will feel relieved!"

    "I''m just doing my duty, Finch-Fletchley."

    Bryan smiled and said, with a friendly tone.

    "You should be able to catch ck soon, Professor Watson?"

    Hannah Abbott, who had two blonde braids and a timid expression, asked Bryan a serious question,

    "Because of that ck, I can''t concentrate in ss! I''m always afraid that he might sneak into the castle and attack us!"

    At noon, Bryan was nning to go downstairs to the Great Hall and have lunch with the other professors, but his subordinate Filch took the opportunity to bring in a second-year Gryffindor boy, who looked scared and guilty.

    "Mr. Watson!"

    Filch, who was flushed with excitement, showed Bryan a bag of dung eggs, and said gleefully,

    "I caught a nasty little troublemaker ying with dung eggs in the corridor. He was trying to throw them at the portraits and the suits of armor. How do you think we should deal with it?"

    Looking at the silent little kid, who had a few spots of dung on his robes, Bryan rubbed his forehead and sighed helplessly,

    "How did you deal with this kind of situation before?"

    "Detention, sir, at least three days!"

    Filch said eagerly, hoping that Bryan would approve his punishment.

    "Then do it like that, Filch."

    Bryan waved his hand, indicating that Filch should take away the bag of dung eggs that had been stained with stinky juice as soon as possible, and reminded him before he left that he didn''t need to report such minor situations in the future, and he could handle them as he saw fit. He trusted Filch''s judgment, as long as he didn''t use any cruel or illegal methods.

    "Professor!"

    This time it was Percy Weasley and his girlfriend Penelope Clearwater who came in. Percy, who was wearing a shiny Head Boy badge, proudly straightened his chest and said in front of the beautiful Miss Clearwater, who had long curly hair and a charming smile on her face,

    "There is something I must report to you!"

    Hearing this solemn tone, Bryan''s face became serious, and he paid attention.

    "The Dementors guarding the entrances of the castle want to enter the castle to search for ck. They seem to think that ck is still hiding in the castle."

    Percy said, with a grave expression.

    "Does Professor Dumbledore know about this?"

    Bryan frowned and asked.

    "Oh, I reported to Professor Dumbledorest night,"

    Percy twitched his nose, "but Professor Dumbledore refused to let the Dementors enter the castle."

    "In that case-"

    Bryan was about to say that he agreed with Dumbledore, and that he would not allow the Dementors to enter the castle either.

    "But you are the director of the Student Safety Office authorized by the Board of Governors. I think it is more appropriate for you to make the decision!"

    Percy interrupted him, and looked at Bryan, his eyes gleaming.

    ''Boy, you have the potential to be a traitor, I''m very optimistic about you.''

    Bryan thought to himself, as he saw through Percy''s ambition and ttery.

    "Professor Watson, will you also take on the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year?"

    Penelope, who was clinging to Percy''s arm, asked eagerly.

    ''Is this question cursing Lupin or cursing me, Miss Clearwater?'' Bryan pursed his lips and thought tiredly.

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 0187 Worries

    0187 Worries

    <em>Hu-hu¨C</em>

    The gloomy clouds covered the sky again, which had only cleared for half a day. The fine rain beat against the window panes in the strong wind, creating a howling sound that echoed in the empty room. Without the protection of the sun, the temperature of the castle, which was adjacent to arge forest and a vast ckke, dropped quickly. The cold air seeped through the cracks and crevices, making the stone walls and floors feel like ice. Although the wizards with powerful magic had higher resistance to cold and heat than normal wizards, Bryan didn''t have to endure it. In order to make the room morefortable, he lit the firece again with a flick of his hand, and watched the orange mes dance and crackle.

    After hanging a "<em>Do Not Disturb</em>" sign on the office door, Bryan finally enjoyed the leisure period. He stood by the window and stared at the world in the wind and rain, feeling a sense of detachment from the hustle and bustle of the school. He suddenly remembered the experimental data he had left behind in his shrieking shack, hidden under a pile of dusty books and broken furniture. Although there was an illusion magic to cover it, it was always unsafe to leave it there, especially if someone with a keen eye and a curious mind stumbled upon it.

    Naturally, the research on the soul-curse came to his mind again. It was a dark and dangerous topic that fascinated him for a long time, ever since he witnessed its effects. He wanted to understand its mechanism, its origin, and its countermeasures, but he also knew that it was a taboo that few dared to touch, so he must be calm and steady.

    "Should I ask Dumbledore for advice? He must be good at dark magic as a white wizard."

    Bryan hesitated in his heart, but after careful consideration, he thought it was better not to be too ostentatious. After all, the things he studied were considered to be one of the most ''evil'' types even in dark magic.

    It was three o''clock in the afternoon, and there was still a while before dinner. Bryan nced at the parchment on the table, which he had only turned over a few pages. He had no desire to deal with these "troubles". After thinking about it, he decided to go to the library to look up some information. Maybe he could find some clues or inspiration for his research there.

    "I''m not sure if the director of the student safety office has the authority to borrow books from the restricted section, Bryan."

    The librarian, Mrs. Pince, was a strict and very orderly witch. She also had a sharp eye and a sharp tongue, and would scold anyone who made a noise or a mess in the library. She didn''t look at Bryan with any respect, but refused him to borrow books from the restricted area because he had lost his professor title. She guarded the books like a hawk, and wouldn''t let anyone touch them without proper permission.

    "Okay¨C" Bryan scratched his hair, and a bit reluctantly returned the "Most Poisonous Magic" to Mrs. Pince.

    "I''ll check with the headmaster Dumbledoreter if I have this authority, Mrs. Pince."

    He left a bit resentfully after saying this. He hoped that Dumbledore would grant him the ess to the restricted section.

    Originally, he nned to go back to his office and wait for dinner, but when he passed the corridor, he suddenly thought of Professor Snape, whom he hadn''t seen today. He was a bit worried about his mental health, since he knew that Snape had a lot of pressure and pain in his life. Bryan quickly made a decision and sped up his pace to the Slytherin basement.

    He knocked on Professor Snape''s office door and walked in. The moment he entered, Bryan''s nostrils twitched and smelled a slight poison in the murky air. He saw that the room was filled with shelves of bottles, jars, and boxes, containing various ingredients and products of potions. There was also arge cauldron on a fire, emitting a foul-smelling steam. The only source of light was a smallmp on the desk, which cast a dim and gloomy glow on the surroundings.

    He took a closer look and saw that Professor Snape was dealing with a cage of Billywig bugs with green wings and pincers. These two were the ingredients for theughing potion and the sobering potion. Bryan had encountered these two potions in his fourth year, when he had to brew them for his practical exam. He remembered that the Billywig bugs were very difficult to handle, since they could sting and cause levitation and giddiness.

    "What are you doing here instead of enjoying your hard-earned rights in your own office?"

    Snape, whose face was more waxen from the fumes of the Billywig blood and pincers, looked at Bryan who came to visit him, and sneered at the corner of his mouth.

    As soon as he heard Snape''s signature sarcasm, Bryan immediately threw his worries behind him, stepped forward and looked at the dazzling materials on the table with interest, and eximed,

    "These materials are not cheap, professor. They can sell for at least three hundred galleons on the ck market!"

    He was impressed by Snape''s collection of rare and expensive ingredients, which showed his expertise and dedication to potions.

    "Your sry is the same as Minerva''s, and higher than mine, Bryan."

    Snape saidzily, without looking up from his work. He didn''t care about the value of the materials, as long as they served his purpose.

    "That''s different, professor."

    Bryan shook his head regretfully and said, "I''m not like you, I don''t have so many opportunities to enrich my pockets."

    This time, Snape didn''t even have a sarcastic remark to make.

    For a wizard like Bryan, as long as he was willing to show his strength, wherever he went, there would be a lot of people who would stuff galleons into his pocket, begging for his favor or guidance. But he never did so. Snape knew this kid''s style very well. Rather than saying he had principles, it was better to say that Bryan treated making money as a leisure and pleasure, something that he did only when he felt like it or when he was bored.

    "Wait!"

    Seeing that Professor Snape was not depressed by being unable to choke him with his words and could not cheer up from his gloomy mood, Bryan left on his own, but when he turned to close the door outside, Professor Snape called him back and saidzily,

    "That werewolf has a third-year defense against the dark arts ss on Friday. Maybe you can help him out."

    Bryan''s face darkened instantly. ''Miss Clearwater, what did you do to your mouth?''

    "What a rare opportunity to make your dreame true, professor. Are you sure you want to give it up?"

    He replied sarcastically, hoping that Snape would change his mind. But Snape just smirked and waved his hand dismissively, indicating that he had made his decision.

    <em>Bang</em>!

    The office door closed automatically, leaving Bryan with a tick mark on his face outside.

    During the daytime of the school day, every staff member in the castle was busy. Even if they were not in ss, they were busy preparing lessons or some teaching tools in their offices. In order not to let others think that he was sitting and getting his sry without doing anything, Bryan had to walk back to his office slowly, pretending that he had some important matters to attend to.

    He walked up to the third floor, passed a corner, and saw two young wizards standing in front of the door of his office, hesitating. They seemed to want to knock on the door, but they didn''t dare to do so because of the "<em>Do Not Disturb</em>" sign on the door. The sign was actually a joke that Bryan had put up to scare away some unwanted visitors, but it seemed to work too well on some innocent students.

    "Potter, Weasley¨C"

    Bryan smiled and waved at them, and approached quickly.

    "We had three sses today, professor, so we came a bitte!"

    Harry and Ron, who had bright smiles on their faces, exined in a hurry. They had been looking forward to seeing Bryan ever since they heard that he had returned to the castle.

    "I understand¨C"

    Bryan smiled happily. No matter what, his rtionship with Harry was closer than others. So many people came to visit him in the morning, but the three little ones never came to see him, which was a bit disappointing.

    He was d that Harry and Ron had finally shown up. He opened the door and asked curiously,

    "Why are there only two of you? Where is your good partner, Miss Granger?"

    "Hermione also has sses in the fourth period,"

    Ron followed Bryan into the office, looking at the familiar furnishings, and said with a bit of anger,

    "Andtely, we have some opinions on some of her actions!"

    Bryan walked to the firece and brought two cups of tea to Harry and Ron. Hearing this, he smiled indifferently. The personalities of the young wizards at this age were mostly sharp and had no sense of restraint. It was normal to have some conflicts with each other. He had seen many friendships break and mend over trivial matters.

    "Can you tell me what happened?"

    He directed the two little guys to sit down on thefortable sofa, and returned to his office seat. He asked casually, showing his interest and concern.

    After a round of exnations, Bryan finally figured out what was going on. It turned out that Hermione bought a cat named Crookshanks from a pet shop in Diagon Alley, and the cat had been chasing Ron''s rat Scabbers ever since. Ron was furious that Hermione did not care about his pet''s safety, and Hermione was annoyed that he quarreled with her because of her cat''s instincts. They had been arguing about this for a long time, and their friendship had be strained.

    ''No wonder Crookshanks didn''t stay in the castle for a while, but always ran to me. It turned out to be this reason,'' Bryan thought in his mind.

    Ron had hoped that Professor Watson would condemn Hermione''s disregard for Scabbers life and health, but seeing that Professor had no intention of intervening in this matter, he was a bit disappointed. But he soon forgot about it and quickly joined Harry in discussing why he suddenly returned to the castle without any warning and became the director of the student safety office.

    "We only heard a little bit of rumors before, professor¨C"

    Professor Watson returned to the castle, so Harry, who had no worries after having double protection from him and Dumbledore, said cheerfully,

    "Professor Dumbledore seemed to be dissatisfied with the situations that might cause the little wizards to get hurt in the castle in the past few years, so he nned to take some measures, but we never found out what he was going to do!"

    ''I guarantee that if you drop out now, Mr. Potter, there will never be any strange things happening in Hogwarts again''¨CBryan smiled without changing his expression.

    "Do you n to reactivate those alchemy tools, professor?"

    It was Ron''s turn to express his opinion. He nced at the ck curtain on the opposite wall with a bit of awe and said, noticing Professor Watson''s slightly surprised look, he quickly exined,

    "This is Fred and George''s guess, Professor Watson. You may not know, but they have always been obsessed with your skills!"

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0188 The Tale of the Scab

    0188 The Tale of the Scab

    Sirius ck, the notorious mass murderer who escaped from the wizarding prison of Azkaban, had sneaked into the castle and ruined the festive atmosphere of Halloween. Under normal circumstances, the fear and panic brought by this despicable and evil criminal would make the young wizards uneasy for a long time, but the director of the student safety office of Hogwarts, who returned to the school at lightning speed, Professor Watson, pulled the young wizards out of the dark shadow of terror with his reassuring presence.

    The Great Hall today was as warm and lively as yesterday. Although there were no twisting ribbons on the walls of the spacious hall, the food piled on the four long tables was more abundant and delicious. The students enjoyed their breakfast while chatting andughing, forgetting the horror ofst night. Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, introduced Bryan, the Director of Student Safety Office, to everyone again with witty and humorous words. When Professor Watson, who had defeated the Basilisk and ended the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, stood up and waved to everyone with a modest smile, the Great Hall was suddenly filled with thunderous apuse!

    Everyone''s hearts were greatly encouraged. They believed that Professor Watson, who had proven his courage and wisdom, would continue his brilliant record and force the evil that threatened their lives out of the darkness again.

    At this moment of celebration, only one person. No, only one rat, was facing the bone-chilling cold alone.

    The clear and bright moonlight shone through the carved window panes into the Gryffindormon room soaked in darkness. In the empty dormitory, a humble and timid figure was hiding in the gap between the four-poster bed and the wall, shivering. He was clutching a piece of cheese that he had stolen from the kitchen, but he had no appetite to eat it.

    He had given up his human form for the sake of survival for twelve years, but now it seemed that the final judgment wasing soon.

    Ever since Sirius ck escaped from Azkaban, everyone was talking about what he would do next. A very small number of wizards who had insider''s information believed that ck''s purpose of escaping was to kill the boy, the ''Boy Who Lived'' who made the Dark Lord fall. The boy who was also the son of his best friends, James and Lily Potter.

    But Peter Pettigrew knew that ck would not kill Harry Potter, because the one who betrayed the Potters was not ck, but himself.

    ck knew that he was not dead, but lived as a rat in the Weasley family. Now, he wasing for revenge, not only for the Potters, but also for ck himself, who had been framed and imprisoned by him. Peter didn''t know how ck got the news, but he was sure that ck must have known.

    ''What should he do?''

    Peter curled up his palm-sized body and tried to think hard in despair and fear. He had been thinking about this question for months.

    ''Run away!''

    This was the thought that came to him instinctively, it was his original n.

    But after thinking deeply, he gave up this idea and still followed the Weasley boy, Ron, back to Hogwarts.

    The reason was simple, as long as he stayed with Ron, he could enjoy the protection that Dumbledore had arranged for the boy. As long as he was in this protection, ck might not be able to get close to him. Peter thought so, but now it seemed that he had underestimated ck''s means and determination.

    Last night, ck was only separated from him by a wall, and he almost couldn''t save his precious life.

    Peter didn''t know how ck broke through the hundreds of dementors outside the wall and broke into Hogwarts, but he knew thatst night''s failure would not make ck back down. He would try again until he killed himself, or ck himself was killed.

    How could he fall into this absurd situation?

    The clear and bright moonlight was so pale and cold in his ck eyes that were tearful with fear.

    Even until now, Peter still didn''t understand why the person who was so powerful that even his name couldn''t be mentioned was defeated by a baby. He didn''t understand why, he made the decision after careful consideration. He had clearly chosen the stronger side, but why did he end up like this?

    <em>Everything seemed to go back to the beginning, back to the time when he first entered Hogwarts.</em>

    <em>*shback*</em>

    The golden candlelight in the hall shone on a short and thin boy who was tremblingly walking towards the Sorting Hat, as if he was wearing a cloak of the fear. He had no friends, no confidence, no talent. He had only one wish, to be sorted into a house that would ept him and protect him.

    "Ah-"

    Even today, Peter still remembered the regretful sigh of the tattered Sorting Hat that brought him the despair as deep as death.

    "Please-"

    The young Peter begged humbly, his voice barely audible in the noisy hall. He was too scared, he had always been like this since he could remember, because of his timid personality, he was not smart enough, had no outstanding magic talent, he would fail at everything he tried, he was afraid that he would be sent home by the hat, he was afraid to face his mother''s disappointed eyes again.

    He had seen her face when she received his letter, a mixture of surprise and hope, as if she expected him to follow his father''s footsteps and be a great wizard. But Peter knew that he was nothing like his father, who had died bravely in the first wizarding war, leaving behind a heroic legacy and a broken family.

    "You are not a brave child, wisdom and hard work are not your strengths, and you don''t have enough ambition, sigh¡­ let me think, where should you go¡­"

    "Please, sir¡­" Peter pleaded bitterly, "as long as you keep me!"

    "As long as I keep you?" The Sorting Hat chuckled, "What do you think, child?"

    ''What do I think?'' Peter was at a loss, helpless and stunned. For many years, he had been living in his mother''s hopeful eyes and his father''s legendary stories of being born in Gryffindor and dying heroically, no one cared about what he thought¡­ He had never made a choice for himself, he had always followed others. He had no dreams, no goals, no identity. He was just a shadow... a nobody.

    "I want to go to Gryffindor¡­"

    Peter muttered in a trance, those countless nights, he fell asleep listening to his father''s brave and fearless stories, Peter still remembered clearly, his mother was proud and happy when she told those stories¡­ He wanted his mother to be proud of him¡­. He wanted to be like his father, to be respected and admired, to be a hero.

    "Go to Gryffindor?"

    The Sorting Hat''s voice became strange, "You said you want to go to Gryffindor, well, in my opinion, Hufflepuff might help you get out of the quagmire of your heart, but since you made a choice¡­, I hope that in the long life ahead, you can find the courage hidden in your heart."

    That was one of the few happy moments in his life, when the Sorting Hat shouted out his choice with a loud voice, he seemed to see his mother''s proud eyes turn towards him for the first time.

    He felt a surge of joy and relief, as if he had passed a test. He walked towards the Gryffindor table, where a group of cheering students weed him with open arms. He felt a sense of belonging, a sense of eptance, a sense of home.

    But the truth is always cruel, everything was as the Sorting Hat said on the sorting ceremony, he was not a brave child, the house of courage did not dig out his inner courage, but made him more timid.

    The pain followed¡­ Everyone around him seemed to look at him with strange eyes, as if they wondered how he got into Gryffindor, as if they doubted his abilities, as if they mocked his weakness.

    He was always thest in ss, the first to be picked on, the one who always needed help. He was always the follower, the sidekick, the tag-along. He was always the rat, the worm, the scab.

    ''It can''t go on like this!''

    The young Peter said to himself, he needed, needed¡­, someone to shelter him, someone to protect him.

    Peter soon found his target, James Potter and Sirius ck, these two were the most outstanding among the students, no matter where they went, they always shone. They were handsome, smart, talented, popr, rebellious, and fearless.

    ''Chose the right person¡­Ha ha, I picked the right person!''

    In the dark, Peter was overjoyed. He endured the servitude and jokes, and became their friend, and got their shelter, no one could bully him in school anymore¡­ oh, there was a werewolf, a disgusting werewolf who also joined in¡­

    ''It doesn''t matter, I can tolerate him, as long as I don''t lose this shelter!''

    Peter thought, as he followed them loyally, pretending to be their friend, pretending to be their equal, pretending to be happy. He didn''t care about Remus, he didn''t care about their adventures, he didn''t care about their loyalty. He only cared about himself, he only cared about this shelter.

    Time quietly passed, Peter asked himself, did he find the courage hidden in his heart as the Sorting Hat said?

    No, no¡­, but it doesn''t matter anymore, he found that, even without courage, he could still live in a way that most people envy.

    Be a vassal, be a vassal of the strong, even if¡­, even if it is in the way of a servant.

    He carefully served those three people, followed behind them, and lived in their halo, as if he was shining too¡­ although it was illusory, it was still radiant, and envied by others!

    After graduation, in the wider world, those who used to shine brightly have became dim and even endangered themselves.

    ''Only strong people can continue to shelter me!''

    Peter thought happily as he crouched humbly in front of theughing Dark Lord.

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0189 Escape

    0189 Escape

    The Dark Lord, the most powerful and feared wizard of all time, had risen to power, and had dered war on the Magical Britain. He gathered a group of followers, called the Death Eaters, who shared his vision of a pure-blooded society, and who killed and tortured anyone who opposed him.

    On one side, there was the Dark Lord who had plunged the entire wizarding world into turmoil for decades, and on the other, there was Albus Dumbledore, who was old and feeble, and could only hide in Hogwarts without doing anything. It was clear who was stronger and who was weaker. Peter had once rejoiced at his own wisdom, he seemed to see that he would have a life that was admired by everyone, a future that was more brilliant than his father, who died as a hero!

    But what the hell happened?

    How could the invincible Dark Lord be defeated by a weak infant who couldn''t even walk? How could a mere baby, who had no idea of magic or danger, survive the killing curse, the most lethal spell ever invented?

    Peter had no time to think about these things, he had to run away quickly, lest he fall into the same fate as his irresponsible father, who left behind a widow and an orphan, and died in disgrace.

    Sirius ck hade back from hell to take revenge on him, but this time, no one could protect him!

    ''What to do? Go back to the Dark Lord''s side?''

    It was said that the Dark Lord had not died, but was hiding like him, in the forest of Albania. But what could he do by going back to such a weak person?

    He had no time to hesitate, he had to make a decision quickly.

    ck was relentless and determined, and he had a way to break through the powerful ancient wards and dementors in Hogwarts, and sneak into the castle safely. These fearless and talented people always seemed to be able to do anything.

    He would definitely continue to try to kill him, there was no doubt about that.

    It was no longer safe to stay with the little boy from the Weasley family, not only because of ck, but also because of another person, a wizard who was much more terrifying than ck, who had returned to the castle.

    Bryan Watson¨Canother gifted wizard.

    Following the little boy from the Weasley family, Peter heard a lot of valuable information about the young wizard.

    Earlier this year, he learned from the mouths of the three little wizards what happened in the Chamber of Secrets of Slytherin¨CBryan Watson easily defeated a basilisk that had survived since the Slytherin''s era, and personally destroyed the Dark Lord''s diary from his student days. At that time, Peter realized that this was a powerful wizard who had no rival except the Dark Lord and Albus Dumbledore at their peak.

    Bryan Watson was summoned back to Hogwarts by Dumbledore, and took the position of Director of Student Safety Office. At the moment, His main task was to catch Sirius ck.

    Peter didn''t know if Bryan Watson could catch ck or not, but if he did, it would be more troublesome. Bryan Watson''s appearance would only make the situation more dangerous.

    Peter hoped that ck would die directly in the hands of the dementors or the hit wizards. This was the best situation, because neither of them would listen to ck''s nonsense, they would attack him as soon as they saw him, and would not stop until he was dead.

    But if ck fell into the hands of Bryan Watson?

    Peter knew his former good friend, was a skilled wizard, but he would be powerless against a wizard who was as powerful as the Dark Lord and the young Albus Dumbledore!

    Bryan Watson would not kill ck, he was ''loyal'' to Dumbledore, he would hand ck over to Dumbledore, and then, the truly terrible thing would happen to Peter. Dumbledore would try to find out the reason why ck ''betrayed'' the Potters. The truth woulde out, everything would be clear! His life, which he had saved by bing a traitor and living as a rat for twelve years, would be lost, and along with it, the only thing he left to his mother, that was¨Cher son and husband were both heroes.

    Fake death and escape, he had done this once before, and now he had to do it again.

    But he couldn''t leave Hogwarts, the only ce where he could find out what was happening to his former friend, Sirius ck. He had to know ck''s fate, as long as ck didn''t fall into the hands of Bryan Watson and Dumbledore, then he still had a chance to go back to the Weasley boy. He had to keep waiting, if the Dark Lord waspletely finished, and those truly vicious madmen who were locked up in Azkaban would have no chance to turn over, he could find a ce where no one knew him and continue to live, or, if the Dark Lord came back, he could snatch Harry Potter and offer him to the Dark Lord as a loyal servant.

    Either way, he could live well.

    ''If I could kill him-''

    He thought bitterly, as he disguised himself well, and slipped out of the dormitory through the gap in the window bars. When the pale and cold moonlight fell on him, Peter Pettigrew looked at the dark Forbidden Forest, and his eyes showed endless resentment!

    The temperature in early November was already quite cold, and no one wanted to stay in the windy corridor for long. After the banquet, under the escort of the prefects, the little wizards squeezed out of the hall like a flood. Slytherin and Hufflepuff went to the basement, Ravenw and Gryffindor ran to the tower, they all went to their ownmon rooms. They were eager to get to their warm beds, or to chat with their friends, or to finish their homework for tomorrow.

    Although discussing Professor Watson and his new title was indeed an interesting thing, for some young wizards, the more urgent thing was to catch up with their studies.

    "I''ll go and help Scabbers take his medicine today, Harry, and then Snape, that old bat''s Confusing Concoction essay¨C"

    Ron stood in front of the dormitory stairs and gave Harry a look. Harry hesitated for a moment, but still slowly walked towards Hermione, who was alone on a table after returning to themon room without stopping, and was busy with her homework.

    Ahem¨C Because of the conflict between Scabbers and Crookshanks, Harry had never felt that finding Hermione to borrow homework was such an embarrassing thing. He stood beside Hermione, who was buried in calctions, and coughed twice, hoping to get her attention.

    "Oh, what''s the matter?"

    Hermione, who looked haggard and had a bit of a dazed look in her eyes, came to her senses, as if she had just woken up from a dream. She nced at Harry, and then at the pile of books and papers on the table. She seemed to realize something, and quickly put on a smile.

    "I wanted to persuade you¨C"

    Seeing her condition, Harry really couldn''t say his true request. He pulled a stool and stuffed it under his butt, looked at the messy table, and looked at the arithmetic divination paper with fresh ink on it. He hesitated for a moment, picked up Hermione''s paper, and studied theplex numerical charts on it. He had no idea what they meant, or how they could be useful in the future. He wondered why Hermione would waste her time on such a useless subject.

    "Why don''t you give up this and let yourself rest for a while?"

    Harry, who was also a little dizzy, put down the chart and frowned. He was worried about Hermione, she looked like she was on the verge of a breakdown. He knew she was smart, but he also knew she was taking too many courses, more than any other student in their year. He didn''t understand why she would do that to herself, when she could easily ace any exam with less effort.

    "This thing doesn''t seem to be very useful?"

    "Not very useful, you mean arithmancy?!"

    Hermione seemed very indignant. She snatched the paper from Harry''s hand, and looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.

    "This subject is very wonderful, and more useful than you think, Harry. If you want to be an alchemist like Professor Dumbledore, or a curse-breaker like Ron''s brother Bill, then you have to be good at this course!"

    She said passionately, as if she was trying to convince Harry to join her in her enthusiasm.

    "Anyway, you have to let yourself rest, Hermione,"

    Harry said softly, trying to calm her down.

    "You can''t handle so many courses at the same time, Hermione. Even Malfoy took the time to go to Professor Watson today, but you were busy with these papers during dinner. If you can''t bear to give up arithmancy, I think giving up Professor Babbling''s Muggle Studies is also a good choice, after all, you grew up in a Muggle family."

    He suggested, hoping to make her see reason. He thought Muggle Studies was a waste of time for Hermione, who knew everything about Muggles already.

    "You don''t understand, Harry," Hermione shook her head stubbornly. "I think Professor Babbling''s course is very interesting, I never thought that studying Muggles from a wizard''s perspective would be so fun, it¨C"

    Where was the fun in Professor Babbling''s Muggle Studies, Harry was afraid he would never know, because at that moment, a choked scream came from the stairs of the boys'' dormitory, and the eyes of the wholemon room gathered on Ron, who was dragging a bloody sheet.

    He looked pale and furious, as he stumbled towards Hermione, who was still sitting at the table. He shouted at her, with tears in his eyes and anger in his voice.

    "Are you happy now?!!"

    Seeing the blood-stained sheet, and Ron pinching a tuft of ginger-cat hair, Hermione, who was puzzled, began to tremble all over her body.

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0190 Monitoring

    0190 Monitoring

    A long night passed, and with the help of Filch and Lupin, Bryan finally reinstalled the modified panoramic telescope, which could capture every corner of the castle and its surroundings. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, once again, appeared in front of him in such a clear and vivid way, as if he was standing on the highest tower and overlooking the magnificent scenery.

    Latest night, the sky began to drizzle, and it gradually stopped until dawn. By the time the faint sunlight could prate the gaps in the clouds, it was already ten o''clock in the morning, and the drowsy Bryan stood at the window, still being hit by the cold wind mixed with heavy moisture, to invigorate his spirit. He felt the chill seeping into his bones, and he rubbed his hands together to warm them up.

    He turned around, and a parchment with the title ''Permit'' was spread out on the desk. At the end of the paper, it was the signature of the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, written in elegant and curly letters.

    This was what Dumbledore gave him privately after the dinnerst night:

    Permit:

    I,

    The Minister of Magic, hereby grant the Director of the Student Safety Office of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Bryan Watson, the right to monitor the behavior of all personnel in the public areas of the school, including but not limited to students, faculty, headmaster and deputy headmaster, in the event of a serious threat to the personal safety of the students of the school, recognized by the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the Ministry of Magic.

    This right will expire immediately when the threat is lifted, and a new application is required to activate it again.

    Cornelius Fudge

    Bryan stared at the words on the paper again, and smiled silently.

    To be honest, if it were the situationst year, Fudge would never sign such an absurd Permit. If this thing were to be spread out and known by the wizarding world, it would mean that Fudge''s political career was over, and he could pack up and prepare to step down.

    The Permit was tantamount to admitting that the Ministry of Magic was ipetent and powerless to protect the students from the notorious mass murderer, Sirius ck, who had escaped from the most secure prison in the world, Azkaban.

    But the situation now is uncontroble. After all, ck''s escape from Azkaban was the result of the Ministry of Magic''s poor supervision. If ck was not caught for a long time, or if someone inside or outside the school was confirmed to have fallen victim to ck''s hands, Fudge would also face the same fate. He would be med and criticized by the public, and his reputation would be tarnished beyond repair.

    Of course, an important reason why Fudge was willing to do this kind of authorization was that the authorized person was Bryan Watson. From donating the basilisk in the first half of the year to helping take care of Harry during the summer vacation, he had a good impression of this young and promising wizard. He also believed/(had to believe) that Bryan had the ability and integrity to handle the situation, and that he would not abuse his power or expose the secret of the Permit.

    Holding a cup of steaming bitter tea, Bryan sat on the edge of the desk, quietly examining the dazzling pictures on hundreds of screens. He could see every detail of the castle, from the paintings on the walls to the cobwebs on the ceilings. He felt like he had a pair of eagle eyes, and nothing could escape his sight.

    It was the first ss in the morning, and the castle was empty and there were not many people. In the revolving tower, Dumbledore, who had also stayed up for most of the night, wore a starry nightgown and a matching hat, and went downstairs to get hot chocte. He looked tired but cheerful, humming a tune under his breath. Filch, who was afraid of failing the Student Safety Office''s assessment, led his Mrs. Norris, who had suffered a lot, to walk around the corridor like the wind, trying to find out the young wizards who vited the school rules, but in fact, there was not a single ghost in that corridor except him and Mrs. Norris. He looked frustrated and angry, muttering curses under his breath.

    Except for a few exceptions, the ghosts mostly stayed in their territory, Whether it was the Chamber of Secrets or ck, it was as insignificant to them as guessing what vor of pudding the house-elves had prepared for after dinner. They had their own affairs and entertainments, such as nning the next Deathday Party or ying tricks on the students.

    In the first half of the year, Bryanid down the monitoringwork to find the Slytherin heir hidden among the young wizards, which required him to stay in front of the monitor almost all the time, observing the student whose behavior and actions were contrary tomon sense. But this time, it was just to prevent ck from breaking into the castle, and the panoramic telescopes themselves also had an rm function, which would alert him if there was any suspicious movement or intrusion. This undoubtedly made his work much easier. He could rx a bit and enjoy the view, or even take a nap if he wanted to.

    Ding-dong-dong¨C

    The crisp bell announced the end of the first ss in the morning for the little wizards. The professors stayed in the ssroom waiting for the next wave of visitors, and the students had to hurry up and pack their things, and rush to the ssroom for the next ss. The corridors were filled with noise and movement, as the students chatted andughed, orined and groaned, depending on their mood and schedule.

    Bryan, who had nned to sneak out of the secret passage that Filch had closed and go to the shrieking shack to study the soul curse, had to wait a little longer, and leave quietly after the young wizards returned to their cages.

    His bored eyes locked on the monitor screen, until the picture was clear again, Bryan spit out the tea leaves and prepared to leave, but-

    Suddenly, something a bit weird made Bryan squint his eyes, and the steps he was about to take were taken back again. He felt a surge of curiosity and suspicion, as he noticed something that didn''t make sense.

    The first ss in the morning for the third year of Gryffindor was Charms with Hufflepuff, and the second ss was Transfiguration with Slytherin. Bryan watched Harry and Ron rush into the ssroom, followed by Malfoy and Crabbe, Goyle and Daphne. Hermione hung far behind everyone, and walked into the ssroom a bit absent-mindedly. She looked tired and stressed, as if she had too much on her mind.

    But, just as Hermione entered the Transfiguration ssroom with Harry, at the corner of the corridor on another floor, another Hermione Granger suddenly popped out. She looked around and ran into the ssroom of Ancient Runes taught by Professor Babbling.

    ''What''s going on?!''

    Bryan suddenly stood up straight, his sharp eyes locked on the doorways of the two professor''s ssrooms.

    "The Hermione who walked into Professor McGonagall''s ssroom with Harry....... Sirius ck who drank the polyjuice potion?!"

    Bryan muttered in astonishment, but in a very short time, he overturned this conclusion that was illogical. ck couldn''t still be in the castle.

    In just a few seconds, several possibilities popped up in Bryan''s mind, but none of them were very reasonable. He wondered if there was another exnation, or if he was seeing things.

    Bryan narrowed his eyes and walked quickly to the front of the monitor. After waving his wand, the picture on the monitor screen began to rewind like time flowing backwards. He wanted to see if he had missed anything, or if he could find any clues.

    ''Not two Hermiones, but three!''

    There was another Hermione Granger who followed the crowd into the Arithmancy ssroom taught by Professor Victor.

    Staring at the three Hermione Grangers who appeared almost simultaneously at the doorways of the three professors, Bryan said nothing, his eyes became narrower and narrower, and a solemn light shed in his pale purple pupils.

    Doo, doo, doo

    Time passed by minute by minute, Bryan gave up the idea of going to the shrieking shack to study the soul curse, and his fingers tapped the desk anxiously, his eyes only falling on the doorways of the three professors'' ssrooms where Hermione was.

    "So¨C"

    The memory that was sealed in Malfoy''s dormitory reappeared in Bryan''s mind.

    Every picture, every dialogue in the memory was very clear in front of Bryan''s eyes. He never forgot the content of the memory.

    ''Just, try to avoid it-

    The butterfly effect, the past and the future, the immeasurable impact''

    Finally, after a long time, Bryan''s tense face showed a faint smile,

    "So, the time turner is yours, Miss Granger."

    He whispered to himself, as he recognized the magical device that could manipte time.

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 0191 Time-Turner

    0191 Time-Turner

    "Well, since we already know that Animagus refers to a wizard or witch who can transform into a certain animal at will, while retaining the ability to cast magic spells¨C"

    At the end of the Transfiguration ss, Professor McGonagall quickly flipped through the brief essays on Animagus that the students had handed in, her lips getting tighter and tighter, looking at the nonsense words on the paper, as a professor who had been working at Hogwarts for most of her life, she couldn''t help but sigh in her heart, in recent years, the average grades of the young wizards had dropped sharply.

    "So who can tell me why the Ministry of Magic strictly controls this convenient and magical spell?"

    She asked in a stern voice, hoping to elicit some response from the ss. But to her dismay, the ssroom was silent, as if no one had heard her question.

    Shh! Including Professor McGonagall, the young wizards in the ssroom had been trained by Hermione to have an instinctive reaction, they all looked at the little witch sitting in the front row of the professor who was lowering her head, and when they found that Hermione did not raise her hand as usual as if she could reach the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, everyone''s eyebrows unconsciously raised half an inch.

    "What''s going on with her?"

    Ron, who deliberately chose a seat far away from Hermione, nced at the swaying head in front of the professor, and asked in a low voice with some uneasiness.

    He felt a twinge of guilt, as he remembered the harsh words he had said to herst night.

    ''Isn''t it obvious?''

    Harry also pursed his lips like Professor McGonagall, and said nothing.

    Last night before going to bed, because of Scabbers inexplicable disappearance, Hermione and Ron had a big fight in themon room, although they stopped under the persuasion of everyone, but before leaving, Harry saw the tears on Hermione''s face falling like pearls.

    Hermione tried to exin that she had nothing to do with Scabbers'' vanishing, and that her cat Crookshanks was innocent, but Ron refused to listen. He used her of being a liar, and said that he hated her and her cat. He stormed off to his dormitory, leaving Hermione sobbing on the couch.

    At this time, Harry felt Neville tap his back lightly. There was no need to turn around and ask more questions. The experienced Harry secretly withdrew his right hand that was ced on the desk, pretending to scratch his armpit, and took a note from Neville''s hand.

    ''She cried all night and didn''t sleep!''

    The short text on the note was very neat, not written by Neville, but by Hermione''s roommate Parvati Patil, Harry only nced at it, and his mood suddenly became heavy.

    ''After ss, we should go talk to Hermione.''

    Harry picked up the quill and quickly wrote this sentence, and then handed it to Ron, who was obviously eager, but pretended not to care, and Ron, after seeing the messages written by Patil and Harry, did waver for a moment, but, thinking of the tragic ''death'' of Scabbers, Ron''s heart hardened again,

    ''No, unless she apologizes first!''

    He wrote back, and passed the note to Harry, who shook his head in disbelief.

    "Oh, what''s going on?"

    Professor McGonagall frowned and walked down the podium, looking at the students and said,

    "You have not shown such amendable tacit understanding ever on my ss?"

    She was puzzled by theck of participation and enthusiasm from the students, especially from Hermione, who was usually the first to answer any question. She had noticed that Hermione had been unusually quiet and withdrawn today, and that she had not even looked up from her desk. She wondered if something was wrong with her, or if she was feeling unwell.

    Sitting in thest row, Malfoy was also a bit puzzled by Hermione''s performance, he subconsciously nced at Harry''s position, but Pansy Parkinson sitting next to him suddenly raised her hand.

    "Miss Parkinson?"

    Professor McGonagall called out the name with some surprise, "Well, let''s have you answer this question."

    She was not very fond of Parkinson, who was a rude and snobbish girl, and who often made fun of other students. She doubted that Parkinson knew the answer, but she decided to give her a chance, as she was the only one who had raised her hand.

    "Bing an Animagus requires very harsh conditions, the whole process takes months, and even if one step is done wrong, you have to start over, so it may take several years, so it is very easy to cause wizards to go mad, therefore, the Ministry of Magic strictly controls this spell!"

    Parkinson said the answer in a shrill voice, as if she was reciting from a textbook. Her answer was very standard, even Professor McGonagall couldn''t find any mistakes, just as she was about to give Slytherin five points, Parkinson, who stood up, suddenly pointed at Hermione''s position, and said with a sneer,

    "Professor McGonagall, I found Hermione Granger sleeping in your ss!"

    Hermione, who had a head full ofst night''s talk in today''s sses, about the dead Scabbers, and Ron''s usations, suddenly heard someone calling her name, and she woke up in a moment, instinctively, she mmed the chair and stood up, Her swollen eyes looked at Professor McGonagall with a frown,

    "Sorry, professor, I didn''t hear your question clearly!"

    The ssroom was quiet for a moment, and then, the sound of shaking of tables and chairs andughter came from the Slytherin''s side. They had been waiting for an opportunity to mock Hermione, and they seized it with glee.

    "Don''t worry, Miss Granger,"

    Professor McGonagall red at Parkinson, who was pping the table, and quickly walked to Hermione''s side and held her arm, looking down at Hermione''s goldfish-like eyes, and said with concern,

    "It looks like you are seriouslycking in rest, Miss Granger?"

    She asked in a gentle and sympathetic tone, as she noticed the dark circles under Hermione''s eyes, and the pale and exhausted look on her face. She felt a surge of pity and worry for Hermione, who had always been a diligent and brilliant student, and who had never caused any trouble in her ss.

    Hermione, who was ashamed and embarrassed by the mockery, heard Professor McGonagall''s worried inquiry, and suddenly shuddered, she widened her red eyes, and pleaded in her tone,

    "No, professor, I-, I just had a nightmarest night, professor, so."

    Hermione lied, as she avoided Professor McGonagall''s gaze, and tried to act normal. She knew that the professor would not believe her, but she had no other choice.

    "Well,"

    Professor McGonagall wouldn''t believe such an obvious excuse, but, seeing the pleading look and determination in Hermione''s eyes, Professor McGonagall who was already nning to take back the Time-Turner, softened a bit, and after hesitating for a moment, she said firmly,

    "I think you need to go to Madam Pomfrey now, she has some ways to help you recover your spirits, Miss Granger, there''s nothing much left in this ss, you can go now."

    She said, as she decided to give Hermione another chance, and to trust her judgment. She knew that Hermione was a responsible and mature girl, and that she would not abuse the privilege of using the Time-Turner.

    Squeak!

    After the heavy door closed, theughter and uneasy discussion in the Transfiguration ssroom disappeared. The students were stunned by the scene they had just witnessed, and they did not know how to react.

    There were still a few minutes left before thest ss of the morning, and there was not a single teacher or student in sight on the crowded floors of the ssroom, Hermione leaned on the handrail of the stairs, dragging seven or eight thick books, one step at a time, stumbling down the stairs to the hospital wing.

    ''Crookshanks couldn''t have killed Scabbers. Ron and Harry-''

    The embarrassment in the Transfiguration ss soon faded from Hermione''s mind, she thought aboutst night''s things sadly. She reyed the scene of the fight with Ron, who had med her and her cat for the disappearance of his rat. She remembered the hurtful words he said to her, and the angry look he had given her. She also thought about Harry, who had sided with Ron, and who had also believed that her cat was guilty. She felt alone, and misunderstood, and unloved. She wished that they would listen to her-

    Ssh!

    The backpack strap finally couldn''t bear the weight, each book had two inches thick of magic books fell to the ground, Hermione clumsily squatted down, one by one into the backpack, there was a book in a few steps below the position, Hermione holding the open backpack busy reaching out to grab, but, the weight of the backpack made her body suddenly lose bnce!

    Thump!

    After a short and panicked scream, Hermione rolled down seven or eight steps, her forehead hit the opposite wall, her eyes turned, and she fainted.

    In the third floor office, Bryan, with a solemn face, saw this scene. He strode to the door, and mmed the door open.

    Standing at the corner of the fifth and fourth floors, Bryan looked down at the little witch who didn''t know if she was fainted or asleep, his right foot was in the air, and a sh of light appeared in his eyes, he looked around the empty corridor, and after a brief silence, his figure gradually blended with the wall.

    A few seconds after a hidden spell light entered the little witch''s body, Hermione, who fell to the ground, suddenly whimpered, she struggled to support her body with her arms, her red eyes were full of confusion. She felt a surge of dizziness and nausea, as if she had been knocked out by a powerful curse. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision and make sense of her surroundings.

    "Oh, how long have I slept!"

    Hermione, who was confused, didn''t notice that the bump that should have appeared on her head had disappeared, and she forgot Professor McGonagall''s instructions, and after a frantic confirmation of the time, she quickly pulled out the fine gold chain from her cor. The exquisite little hourss that was shining, she looked around furtively, turned the hourss over, and then, with a pop, disappeared from Bryan''s sight.

    "Sure enough¨C"

    Bryan reappeared, he stared at the ce where Hermione disappeared, shook his head and smiled, "I''ve been worrying about it. I didn''t expect it to be yours, Miss Granger"

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 0192 Exposed

    0192 Exposed

    Hermione felt like she had gone back to her first year at school, when she was always alone, going to ss by herself, eating by herself, going to the library by herself, and the other students kept their distance from her as if she had some contagious disease. Well, not exactly, she could feel a few worried nces on her from time to time, but no one dared to approach her or offer anyfort.

    "We should go andfort her."

    The students were leaving the Great Hall in droves, and only a few people remained at the Gryffindor table. Harry, feeling sorry for her, tried to persuade Ron, but he was met with Ron''s angry refusal,

    "I think we can use this opportunity to make her change her arrogant and conceited personality!"

    When Ron''s resentful words reached her ears, Hermione''s lips tightened, and she suddenly felt like crying, but she tried hard to hold back the urge, grabbed her bag and got up to leave.

    "Miss Granger, please wait¨C"

    Hermione turned around in surprise, and saw Professor Watson stand up from the staff table and walk towards her.

    "I hope you can spare some time before dinner toe to my office, Miss Granger."

    Ignoring the curious stares, Bryan looked at the pale-faced Hermione and calmly said this.

    "But, Professor¨C"

    Suddenly, Hermione realized that she hadn''t visited him alone since Professor Watson returned to Hogwarts, which was very rude, especially for a professor who had helped her many times,

    "I probably don''t have time, Professor Watson, I have two sses in the afternoon, I need to finish my history of magic essay at dinner time, and I have Professor Sinistra''s astronomy observation at night."

    Bryan raised his eyebrows, feeling a bit troubled by Hermione''s honesty and stubbornness,

    "In that case,"

    Bryan said in an indisputable tone to Hermione, "Youe with me now, Miss Granger."

    "Professor Watson must know about Hermione''s annoying beast,"

    When Hermione, who looked confused, followed Professor Watson out, Ron immediately said eagerly,

    "Do you think he called her to persuade her to get rid of it?"

    "I don''t think so, Ron" Harry said helplessly, "Professor Watson wouldn''t make a fuss about a cat eating a mouse."

    "Professor¨C"

    Pushing open the window, Hermione saw the sky was still that unpleasant gray, and on the dampwn, Madam Hooch was teaching the first-year Ravenw wizards how to sit steadily on a flying broom. She could hear their excited shouts and nervousughter.

    Bryan fumbled in his arms, took out a bottle of light green potion and dripped a few drops into the teacup, then poured boiling tea, and handed it to her after seeing Hermione''s puzzled eyes, and returned to his seat behind the desk. His office was cozy and warm, with a firece, a bookshelf, and a few paintings on the walls.

    "When I visited Professor Snape yesterday, I took some dried Billywig stingers from him and made myself some stimnt, but,"

    Bryan put the bottle of stimnt in front of Hermione, "I think you might need it more than me."

    "Oh, thank you, Professor!"

    Hermione bit her lip and said gratefully. She took a sip of the tea, and felt a surge of energy in her body. Bryan waved his hand casually, indicating that Hermione should drink up first, and the office fell silent, only the cold wind that broke through the window bars fluttered their robes.

    "Yesterday afternoon¨C"

    Bryan, who had been staring at the ripples on the ck Lake, noticed that Hermione, who had breathed a sigh of relief, looked much better, he turned his head and smiled,

    "Potter and Mr. Weasley came to see me,"

    Hermione immediately became nervous, she thought Professor Watson was going to me her for noting with them to visit him, but she was caught off guard when she heard,

    "They told me that, because of Crookshanks, Ron''s rat named Scabbers seemed to be in a bad statetely?"

    Hermione suddenly showed a sad expression, she lowered her head, tears rolling in her eyes,

    "Scabbers is dead."

    She said with a sob after a while as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and looked up at Bryan with a pained expression.

    ''Dead?!''

    "They think it was Crookshanks who did it, when did it happen?" Bryan asked in surprise.

    After understanding the general course of events, Bryan looked at the thin shoulders of the little witch trembling slightly, and his eyebrows wrinkled imperceptibly, feeling a bit puzzled.

    He had set a circle of warning spells around the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted house in Britain, to prevent some inexplicable people from entering and leaving. The spells would feedback any living thing with a certain amount of magic that tried to break into the room, and automatically attach a location mark. Bryan had done this to make it easier for him to find them and erase their memories if someone identally broke in and really found something.

    Last night at dinner in the Great Hall, ording to the information from the warning magic, Crookshanks, Hermione''s ginger cat, should not have had enough time to mit a crime''.

    "It''s not necessarily a cat that eats mice, could it be an owl that slipped in through the window?"

    Bryan suggested, trying to ease Hermione''s guilt.

    "But there was Crookshanks'' fur on Ron''s bed."

    Professor Watson didn''t immediately use Crookshanks ofmitting the crime, which Hermione appreciated, but she couldn''t deny Professor Watson''s guess. She remembered how Ron had screamed when he saw the bloody sheets and the tufts of orange fur.

    "Hmm, in that case"

    Bryan rested his elbow on the armrest, his palm supporting his chin, and said thoughtfully,

    "Have you tried to sneak back and see with the Time-Turner?"

    "No, Professor¨C"

    After drinking some stimnt, Hermione, who was quick-witted, shook her head immediately,

    "That''s against thew, Professor Watson, Professor McGonagall warned me sternly when she gave it to me, not to use it for--"

    As she spoke, Hermione suddenly realized what she was saying, she widened her beautiful eyes, staring at Professor Watson, who was smiling faintly, with a shocked expression.

    Silence continued, one second, two seconds, three seconds.

    ng!

    Suddenly, Hermione jumped up from her seat, stumbled back a few steps,

    "Pr- Professor Watson, you know. You, Did Professor McGonagall- Oh, impossible, this is something that needs to be kept strictly confidential, I didn''t even tell Harry and Ron, Professor McGonagall wouldn''t tell you!"

    She blurted out, feeling panicked.

    "Hehe, don''t be nervous, Miss Granger, I have no intention of sending you to Azkaban."

    Looking at Hermione, who was a bit over-nervous, Bryan joked. He was amused by her reaction.

    "But!" Hermione still looked doubtful, "How did you find out if it wasn''t Professor McGonagall who told you?"

    She wondered how he had discovered her secret, and if he had told anyone else.

    "Harry and Ron didn''t tell you the Weasley twin''s guess, about my method of preventing ck from breaking into the castle again?"

    Bryan asked, changing the topic. He wanted to divert her attention from the Time-Turner, and to make her feel less guilty and isted,

    Using the Time-Turner, this amazing alchemy device, meant that she could have more time to study than others, which in the eyes of others, was equivalent to cheating to improve her grades. Being exposed by Professor Watson, Hermione''s face was red, but when she heard this question, her cheeks showed a touch of sadness.

    "No, Professor¨C"

    At Professor Watson''s request, Hermione sat back in her chair, she shook her head pitifully,

    "Because of Crookshanks, they don''t like to talk to metely"

    She said, feeling lonely and hurt.

    Bryan had called Hermione to his office, not to chat with her, but to show her something. He waved his hand, and the ck curtain behind the desk opened with a swish, revealing hundreds of small screens with swaying figures of Hermione.

    "You are very cautious, Hermione, you strictly followed the operating procedures of the Time-Turner¨C"

    Bryan said with a bit of amusement, "But for me, seeing your sneaky figure all over the screen is always a bit weird.

    Fortunately, my brain is flexible, and I guessed what was going on, otherwise, I would have rushed into Professor McGonagall''s ssroom and checked carefully, among these many ''Hermione Grangers'', if there was any Sirius ck who had drunk the Polyjuice Potion!"

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 0193 Research

    0193 Research

    Hermione blinked, feeling a surge of panic and shame as she looked at the smiling Professor Watson, who was sitting across from her in his cozy office. She nced nervously at the wall behind him, where the shadows of her past actions were still flickering on the monitor screen. She had been caught red-handed using the Time-Turner to attend multiple sses at once, and now she had to face the consequences. She opened her mouth in embarrassment and asked in a small voice,

    "Did you see everything, Professor?"

    Bryan nodded, his eyes sparkling with amusement and curiosity. He spoke in a deep and calm voice that waspletely unaware of his resemnce to Dumbledore, the wise and powerful headmaster who stayed in his office most of the time and rarely showed up.

    "Obviously, yes,"

    He replied, crossing his fingers on the table and gazing at Hermione with a friendly expression.

    "I noticed something strange when you walked into the Transfiguration ssroom. At first I thought it was ck, and I was ready to rush into the nearest ssroom of Professor Babbling, the Ancient Runes teacher, and drag you out, and then go to Professor McGonagall and Professor Victor.

    But fortunately I stopped myself from doing so, otherwise, if this matter got out, I can''t imagine what would happen to you, Hermione. You might be trapped in the gap of time forever!"

    He said this with a serious tone, making Hermione shiver. She knew the dangers of messing with time. There were many examples of wizards who tried to use the Time-Turner to change something, but they ended up bumping into their original selves by mistake, and the result was that they were killed by their unknowing selves upstream of the timeline or were stuck in that time loop for eternity. It was a horrible fate, worse than death.

    He continued, "Last semester, when you tried to sign up for all the elective courses, I reminded you, Hermione, that human energy is limited. Even for me or Headmaster Dumbledore, we can''t do everything.

    With your intelligence and talent, since Fred and George, the mischievous twins, could think of me restarting the surveince system, there is no reason why you couldn''t foresee this. It''s just that too many subjects have upied your energy, making your brain not clear enough. Otherwise, you should have told me in advance."

    "I can''t do it, Professor!"

    Hermione cried out, her face crumpling and tears welling up in her eyes. "Harry also advised me to give up some courses, but I can''t ignore those interesting knowledge. And Ron''s brother, Percy, also used this. I thought I-"

    She choked on her words, and tears started to fall from her eyes. They dripped into the light green tea in her hand, rippling out one circle after another. Hermione lowered her head and sobbed, "I just wanted to prove, Professor-"

    To be honest, persuading a teenage girl who was sensitive and prone to breakdowns was not an easy task, but fortunately Bryan was patient and kind enough. Heforted her softly, over and over again, listing her strengths and achievements. He told her how smart and talented she was, how much he admired her passion and dedication, how proud he was of her. He also shared some of his own experiences and struggles, making her feel less alone and more understood. And after half an hour, Hermione gradually calmed down, wiping her tearful eyes.

    "Thank you, Professor. I feel much better now-" she said gratefully, looking at him with admiration and respect.

    "Just like I said, Hermione, even Merlin might not be able to cook better than a humble house-elf. We have to make choices-"

    Bryan breathed a sigh of relief and said decisively, hoping to convince her to drop some courses and ease her burden. But seeing the flickering eyes of Hermione opposite him, Bryan knew she probably had no intention of giving up a few courses. She was too stubborn and ambitious for her own good.

    "I called you over, Hermione."

    Bryan was a bit helpless about Hermione''s stubbornness. He took a sip of tea and slowed down his tone.

    "I hope you can provide me with a copy of your schedule."

    He exined to Hermione''s somewhat puzzled eyes,

    "What happened today didn''t lead to serious consequences, but that doesn''t mean that simr misunderstandings won''t happen in the future. I have to figure out whether the you that appears on the monitor screen is really you, or some criminals who sneak into the castle and disguise themselves as you."

    This was a reasonable request, and Hermione had no reason to refuse.

    "Also, there is one more request, Hermione-"

    After tapping Hermione''s schedule with his wand and copying it into two, Bryan looked at the thin golden chain on Hermione''s neck with interest. It faintly revealed the hourss-shaped pendant that was the Time-Turner.

    He said with a curious smile, "This ispletely a personal request, Hermione. The Time-Turner. This thing has always been strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic. In reality, I have never seen this thing. I don''t know if it''s appropriate-"

    He trailed off, looking at her with a hopeful and eager expression. Hermione blinked, feeling a surge of amusement as she looked at the curious expression of Professor Watson, who had been so kind and helpful to her. She suddenly realized that Professor Watson called her over for a lot offort and preaching, and made a big deal of taking her schedule. These may be all cover-ups. His real purpose might be to see this Time-Turner!

    "Oh, no problem, Professor-"

    Although Professor McGonagall had expressly forbidden her to reveal this Time-Turner to anyone else, since Professor Watson had already figured out the situation himself, Hermione took off the golden chain from her neck. But because she was a bit clumsy, the chain hole also caught a few of her brown curls, which hurt her nose. She winced and said, "This thing-" handing it over to him.

    Bryan carefully pinched the delicate little hourss that was overflowing with light on the surface, and squinted at the slightly blurred space inside the hourss with the help of a few faint rays of sunlight that had difficulty passing through the clouds. He felt a wave of awe and fascination as he held the device that could manipte time.

    ''The power of time-'' Before entering Hogwarts this year, in reality, Bryan knew nothing about this power, but after the trip to Avalon Ind, he had some experience of the chaotic time sequence.

    In the wizarding world, Regarding the possession of the Time-Turner, ording to the experience of thousands of years, the Ministry of Magic has enacted hundreds ofws, and at the same time, imposed the most severews and punishments for the abuse of the Time-Turner.

    ording to Bryan''s understanding, all the Time-Turners are public property, not allowed for private long-term possession. Only in individual special cases, you can write an application letter to the relevant department of the Ministry of Magic.

    As for the production technology of the Time-Turner, even the Ministry of Magic has not mastered it, but it is said that some pure-blood family that invented this thing, still retains some of the relevant knowledge in this area.

    "How far back in the past can it take you?" he asked with interest, ying with the little hourss back and forth.

    "Up to twelve hours, Professor Watson,"

    Hermione answered, always looking worriedly at the hourss that was spinning around his fingertips, fearing that he would identally send himself back in time. She did not want to cause any more trouble or confusion.

    "This is what Professor McGonagall told me when she gave it to me, but I haven''t tried it. So far, I''ve only used it to go back two hours before."

    She hoped that he would not ask her to demonstrate it, or to let him use it. She did not know how to refuse him politely.

    Hearing this answer, Bryan''s forehead grew a few fine lines, his eyes became deep, and his spinning fingers stiffened for a moment.

    He nodded indisputably, and then asked casually, "The book I gave you before, Hermione, have you been reading ittely?"

    He was referring to the book he had given her as a gift.

    "Oh!"

    Hermione''s cheeks flushed, and she looked embarrassedly at the brick seams, stuttering, "Sorry, Professor, that book involves a lot of knowledge that only N.E.W.T.s level Defense Against the Dark Arts courses will cover. I, um, studied it during the summer, but after school started-"

    She trailed off, feeling guilty and ashamed. She had not been able to keep up with the book, as she had been too busy with her other courses and her Time-Turner.

    "Don''t be nervous, Hermione, I''m not going to ask you to recite the book backwards. I just hope that at some point in the future it can help you."

    Bryan smiled kindly, and then threw the little hourss and the stimnt potion to Hermione, and signaled her to leave. He did not want to pressure her or make her feel bad.

    "Oh, by the way, there''s one more thing-"

    Bryan, who suddenly remembered something as Hermione stepped out of his office, stopped her.

    "In Professor Lupin''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss, um, what have you learned?" he asked.

    "We learned about boggarts, red caps, kappas and grindylows, Professor!"

    Hermione, who was in a clear state of mind, answered this question loudly by instinct.

    "Next, we should learn about hinkypunks, Professor¨C"

    Hermione asked in confusion, "Is there a problem, Professor Watson?"

    "Oh, hinkypunks, well, I see¨C"

    ''What a wonderful coincidence'', Bryan thought with a smile, waved his hand, and closed the door directly.

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 0194 Back Again

    0194 Back Again

    The most anticipated Quidditch match of the year was finally about to begin at Hogwarts. The entire school was buzzing with excitement and tension, as the students and teachers prepared to cheer for their respective houses. No matter if it was Sirius ck, the notorious fugitive who had escaped from the wizarding prison of Azkaban, or Bryan Watson, the former Dark Arts Defense teacher who had returned to Hogwarts and be the head of the Student Safety Office, they had to put aside their worries and fears for this thrilling moment.

    Ever since the previous school year, when Slytherin had snatched the victory from Gryffindor in the final match, the entire Gryffindor team, including Harry Potter, had a suffocating feeling in their hearts.

    Especially Oliver Wood, the captain and keeper of the Gryffindor team, who was about to graduate this year. He was determined to win at any cost, if there really was a devil in this world, then Wood would have no hesitation in selling his soul in exchange for winning the House Cup.

    "Listen, Harry!"

    The morning before the game, the weather was dreadful. The wind was howling, the rain was pouring down like buckets, and the dim corridors were full of puddles everywhere. The castle caretaker, Filch, was busy running around to clear the drains and mop the floors.

    But the most annoying creature in the castle, Peeves the poltergeist, liked to make trouble at this time. He flew over the corridors with a sneer, throwing balloons filled with water everywhere, making Filch so angry and helpless that he popped them open and cursed, until finally, he threatened Peeves that if he continued to mess around and disturb the order of the ss day, he would ask Professor Watson toe out and deal with him, which barely calmed Peeves down.

    "It''s already this time, Harry!"

    Wood blocked Harry in the stormy corridor for the third time today, roaring louder than the raging wind and waves outside,

    "You have to forget those cowardly and despicable Slytherins, focus on dealing with Hufflepuff, their new captain Diggory, you have to be careful of him, Harry, he turns very fast, don''t ever¨C"

    Harry, who had already be a drowned chicken, didn''t hear what Wood said at the end. He was about to ask, but a figure that surprised him came out of the Dark Arts Defense ssroom twenty feet away.

    "Do you have any special opinions on Slytherin, Mr. Wood?"

    Even though the wind was raging and the rain was roaring, the word''s spoken by Professor Watson in a calm and smiling tone reached Oliver and Harry''s ears, making them stunned.

    "No, no, sir, oh, I mean Professor Watson!"

    Wood stuttered, "I was just praising Slytherin''s wisdom. They obviously anticipated that such bad weather was not suitable for the game, so they thought of a clever excuse, very worthy of praise!"

    Bryan nodded in satisfaction, his eyes fixed on Harry, who was still dumbfounded.

    "Well, Mr. Potter, the Dark Arts Defense ss has started for two minutes, do you want toe and listen?"

    Harry stumbled into the ssroom, and until he sat down, looking at Professor Watson who was taking attendance, he still had a dazed expression.

    "Very good!"

    After confirming that no one was absent, Bryan rubbed his palms happily, breathed out two puffs of warm breaths, and said to the confused little wizards,

    "Please don''t misunderstand, everyone, Professor Lupin is feeling a little unwell, and temporarily asked me to teach for him."

    The ssroom fell into a strange silence, the young wizards looked at each other, and they didn''t know how to evaluate what they encountered. There has never been a Dark Arts Defense teacher who coulde back alive and healthy and teach them again after resigning.

    "Prof-essor¨C"

    Harry instinctively felt that Professor Watson''s smile was a bit wrong, and his trembling voice made Malfoy, who was busy unwrapping the bandage on his arm,ugh so hard that he almost fell under the table,

    "Professor Watson, what are you going to teach us?"

    "Um, I learned from Miss Granger that, ording to Professor Lupin''s teaching progress, you should learn how to deal with Hinkypunks. Because I''m just a temporary teacher, I won''t disrupt Professor Lupin''s teaching n."

    <em>Fuuu</em>-

    A collective sigh of relief filled the ssroom, and for a moment, it seemed to drown out the wind and rain outside.

    Below the podium, Neville Longbottom copsed like a deted balloon, and Ron, who had weak legs, also wiped the sweat that didn''t exist on his forehead. He tilted his freckled nose and looked at Hermione Granger in the front row with astonishment,

    "But, professor-" Hermione raised her hand high and asked timidly,

    "But you came empty-handed, didn''t you?"

    "Ah"

    Bryan said cheerfully, "Because today''s ssroom is not here, everyone, I arranged those poor little guys in the staff lounge. Well, instead of following the book, I think you can learn more about Hinkypunks in actualbat. Oh, what''s wrong, Potter, look at your painful expression?"

    Bryan widened his eyes and looked at Harry Potter who made a miserable face,

    "Professor-"

    Harry said pitifully,

    "Are you sure you''re going to let us deal with Hinkypunks, and not some dark creature with a lion''s head and dragon''s body? No offense, professor, I mean, tomorrow is the first Quidditch match of the school year. I can''t miss it."

    Harry was still muttering something like ''I''m the hope of the house, Wood will kill me'', and so on. Bryan didn''t listen carefully, but turned his gaze at Draco Malfoy, who wasughing so hard that he started huping,

    "It looks like you''re recovering well, Mr. Malfoy?"

    Bryan raised his eyebrows and smiled,

    "I guess you won''t mind showing off your extraordinary skills for everyone first?"

    In the Dark Arts Defense ss, Slytherin and Gryffindor showedpletely opposite attitudes to Professor Watson''s return to teach. Basically, the Slytherin students had a jubnt expression, they didn''t like the poor-looking, soft-spoken, and seemingly starving Professor Lupin.

    The Gryffindor young wizards, to be honest, were also very happy to see Professor Watson, and a few of them, like Hermione, were even very excited. The reason why most people behaved so cautiously was actually what Harry said earlier.

    "Don''t worry, Harry!"

    On the way to the staff lounge, Ron and Seamus Finnigan discussed for a while, and said ''with a determined face'',

    "We''ve agreed that no matter what happens, you don''t have to be brave, Harry, leave everything to us, at this critical moment, we have to ensure your safety!"

    Ron''s words were unanimously agreed by the Gryffindor wizards, whether it was Neville, who was ready to go to the hospital wing, or the girls in the dormitory who were heroic, they were all prepared to protect Harry''s safety at all costs.

    "Have you ever considered-"

    Hermione suddenly said, "ording to Professor Watson''s habit, he likes to break up people from different houses, Harry, your teammate is most likely Malfoy or Theodore Nott."

    "Can''t you say something nice?" Ron rolled his eyes and said unhappily.

    Hermione, who had rebuilt her psychological defense, was not a fragile ss vase, she stared at Ron with a strong gaze, until Ron avoided her eyes, she said stiffly,

    "I just think this possibility is very high, Harry, you''d better be prepared."

    Malfoy was whispering with his Slytherin ssmates, and from time to time, he looked at Harry with a bad smile. Harry could easily figure out that Malfoy must be telling those people that if anyone was paired with Potter, they had to find ways to drag Potter''s legs, or make Potter hurt.

    All the chattering discussions among the young wizards could not be hidden from Bryan, who pretended not to hear, but just sighed in his heart, no matter the age, no matter the asion, it seemed that, where there are people, there are differences.

    The staff lounge had been visited by Professor Lupin at the beginning of the semester, and this time they were already familiar with it. It didn''t take long for them to stand in front of the door of arge office.

    "Well¨C"

    Bryan stood in front of the door and turned around with a smile, looking at the Slytherin who was determined to make trouble and the Gryffindor who was united against the enemy,

    "I worked overtimest night and changed theyout of this room a bit. Now, let me show you the results of my hard work all night!"

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 0195 Race (Part-1)

    0195 Race (Part-1)

    With a loud creak, the door of the staff lounge slowly opened, and a strange silence fell over the restless young wizards. They clenched their jaws and scanned the room that had changed its appearance dramatically, silently exchanging uneasy nces with each other.

    Just likest time, Professor Watson had magically expanded the space, but this time, he had gone even further beyond their expectations.

    Outside, the storm was raging furiously, but inside, the lounge had transformed into a vast and murky swamp, where the horizon was lost in the thick mist. A misty rain hung in the air, and the sky was a dull yellow that made people feel sleepy and depressed. In the gloomy space, ghostly or skeletal clouds floated around, creating a spooky atmosphere.

    <em>The familiar form, the same taste!</em>

    With a squeak, the wooden door closed behind them, and the only sounds that could be heard were the faint, sinister and mysterious rustling noises from the swamp, and the heartbeat and breathing of the young wizards who had the same idea in their minds: <em>they were in trouble.</em>

    "Professor Watson¨C"

    Shrinking on the only solid piece ofnd by the door, the young wizards looked at their teacher with apprehension and fear. In the crowd, Parvati Patil, an Indian girl with long ck hair from the Gryffindor house, shivered and raised her hand timidly.

    "What do we need to do?"

    "First of all¨C"

    Bryan cleared his throat and smiled pleasantly, as if he was enjoying their reactions.

    "Who can tell me, what kind of magical creature is a Hinkypunk?"

    "A Hinkypunk is a one-legged creature with low aggressiveness. They like to hide in mud pits or swamps in remote areas, emitting misleading lights to lure hikers into traps!"

    Hermione raised her hand eagerly and blurted out the answer, her eyes shining with curiosity.

    "They don''t sound very dangerous?"

    Ron muttered softly, and Harry, who had thought about it carefully, hesitated and nodded slightly.

    "Excellent as always, Miss Granger, I''ll give five points to Gryffindor!"

    After Hermione retracted her hand proudly, Bryan pointed to the front where there was no fog, and the sparse charred wood stood in the swamp like broken bones and smiled wickedly.

    "Then, it''s obvious what we have to do, Miss Patil¨C"

    Bryan waved his wand, and a row of exquisite oak boats suddenly appeared on the shore in front of everyone, rocking gently on the murky water.

    "As usual, team up by house, two people per team, and take the boat across the swamp. This is apetition between the houses, and the first person to reach the opposite shore will win thirty points for their house, while the losing side will generously contribute their valuable rest time to clean the owl barn for us!"

    Apetition between the houses, and the loser cleans the owl droppings?!

    <em>Murmur</em>!

    In an instant, the atmosphere in the room became tense and heated, and without anyone organizing, the young wizards of Slytherin and Gryffindor split into two groups,peting with each other in momentum and determination!

    "Say hello to those t-haired beasts for me, Potter!"

    Malfoy instantly became possessed by the god of war, sneered and turned on the taunting mode, "I bet you''re very good at these lowly tasks, aren''t you!"

    "You should be worried about yourself, Malfoy!"

    Harry retorted Malfoy without showing any weakness, "You won''t find any house-elves to help you wash and scrub at Hogwarts!"

    "But!"

    In the midst of the noisy crowd, Hermione raised her hand again, looking puzzled and annoyed.

    "What does this have to do with our course, Professor Watson?"

    "A very good question, Miss Granger,"

    Bryan praised her, and after coughing lightly to quiet the young wizards, he continued with a serious tone.

    "I have set up some whirlpool mud pits in this swamp, and they are the obstacles on your way forward. Each mud pit will have a Hinkypunk living in it, and you have to be careful of their tempting glow. Once you fall into the mud pit, it means that you automatically lose the qualification topete. And the reason why we are doing this is to test your knowledge and skills of dealing with Hinkypunks, which is part of our curriculum and there will be some other creatures too."

    "What if-"

    Neville looked at the narrow oak boat nervously and raised his hand shakily. "What if we fall into the water, Professor Watson? Will we be attacked by the Hinkypunks?"

    "If you fall into the water," Bryan looked at Neville with regret, "then I can only say sorry, Mr. Longbottom, you probably have to stay in the hospital wing for few days."

    He had barely finished speaking when a few young wizards who were peering at the shore quickly withdrew their heads. They gulped and felt a cold sweat on their foreheads. They realized that this was not a simple game, but a dangerous challenge.

    Bryan let the young wizards choose their own teammates at first, but they all wanted to team up with the thinner ones on the narrow boats floating on the water. They made a fuss for a while, but no one could agree. In the end, he had to do it himself.

    He paired Harry and Hermione, Seamus and Lavender, Neville and Dean.

    "Professor!"

    Parvati, who found herself on a boat with Ron, stared at his red hair in horror and protested loudly.

    "Can I ask for a change of teammate? Professor Trwney told me to be careful of red-haired boys!"

    "In my case, Those mumbo-jumbo things don''t work, Miss Patil."

    Bryan rejected Parvati''s request ruthlessly, and then nced at Malfoy, who was smiling wickedly and whispering something to the nearby Slytherin students. He smiled slightly, as if he had a n in mind.

    "Let me remind you, everyone, I don''t want to see you attacking each other with wands,dies and gentlemen. Good luck to you all!"

    He waved his wand, and a thick white mist suddenly enveloped everyone. Their consciousness became blurred. When the smoke cleared, Harry and Hermione came to their senses and realized that Professor Watson and their ssmates had disappeared. Their boat was parked in the middle of the water, motionless.

    They were alone in the swamp, with no sign of the shore or the other boats. There was no wind on all sides, but the silk-like smoke on the left and right sides rolled slowly into various strange shapes under the influence of a mysterious force, indicating the terror and gloominess in the silence.

    The young wizards felt a sense of istion and helplessness, as if they were trapped in a nightmare.

    Harry and Hermione looked at each other, but a few secondster, Hermione moved her eyes away angrily and focused on the direction of the bow. She was still mad at Harry for what he had done earlier, but she also knew that they had to work together to get out of this situation.

    "Are you okay, Hermione?" Harry scratched his cheek, looking a bit embarrassed.

    But Hermione heard a hint of apology from Harry''s clumsy greeting. She moved her shoulder, and a faint curve appeared at the corner of her mouth. When she turned around, her tone was much calmer.

    "We''ll talk about that matterter, Harry. What we should think about now is how to get through this swamp."

    "Oh, that''s right!"

    Harry immediately breathed a sigh of relief and agreed happily. He looked around the world of strange lights and shadows, wondering where Professor Watson had seen this sinister and mysterious scene. He had never heard of such a ce in the wizarding world. Finally, he looked at the rudder at the bow and shrugged.

    "I thought this boat would be like the one that ferried us across the ck Lake in our first year, and it would move by itself. Did Professor Watson ask us to row the boat ourselves? But I didn''t see the oars."

    "Don''t be silly, Harry."

    Hermione said calmly. She carefully fiddled with the wheel-shaped rudder, and the still boat immediately swayed with the direction of the rudder. Hermione was almost thrown out of the cabin, as the boat moved unexpectedly fast.

    "Oh, be careful!"

    Harry grabbed Hermione''s arm and stabilized his body with his excellent bnce. He was d that he had yed Quidditch for so long, as it helped him to cope with the sudden movement.

    "It seems¨C"

    Hermione, who turned pale, patted her chest, still in shock, and said, "This boat can indeed move by itself, but it requires a special way."

    The leaf-like narrow boat was clear at a nce. Except for the rudder at the bow, there were only two wooden hemispheres at the stern, where the hulls met, that looked like decorations. They were smooth and shiny, and seemed to have some magic in them.

    Harry blinked, and moved quickly to the stern. His hand instinctively reached for the right bulge.

    "Be careful, Harry¨C"

    Hermione warned.

    "We can''t just stand here, Hermione."

    Harry said unconcernedly. He gestured Hermione to squat down, and reached for the wooden ball again.

    Buzz! As soon as his palm touched, a sting that was almost the same as a mosquito bite made Harry frown slightly. Then, the slightly cold wooden ball emitted a faint glow, and suddenly a mysterious suction came.

    "This thing¨C" Harry pulled back his hand and said nkly, "It seems to be absorbing my, um, magic?"

    He felt a strange tingling sensation in his hand, as if it was being drained of its power. He looked at his palm in astonishment, and saw that it was slightly pale and cold.

    "Harry!"

    Harry, who was staring at his palm in disbelief, suddenly heard Hermione''s tense voice, and a loud snap. He suddenly raised his head, and saw a sh of light. Just in time, he caught a glimpse of a magic shield that covered the boat and emitted a crystal-white halo. It was a thin and transparentyer, but it looked strong and solid. It was the only thing that separated them from the swamp and its dangers. But the shield was fading quickly, and after a second or two, it disappearedpletely in the air, leaving them exposed and vulnerable.

    Two minutester, they finally figured out how the boat worked. It was not a simple wooden boat, but a clever andplex magical device. It had a mechanism of its own, and it required their magic to function properly.

    The rudder at the bow was obviously used to control the direction. It was a wheel-shaped device, that could turn left or right, and make the boat follow its course. It was easy to use, but it also required some skill and concentration. Hermione was the one who handled the rudder, as she seemed good at steering and navigating.

    The two hemispheres at the stern, however, were more mysterious and tricky. They looked like decorations, but they were actually the key to the boat''s movement and protection. The one on the left controlled the oak boat''s forward movement, and the one on the right would trigger a magic shield that protected the boat.

    But both of these wooden balls would draw their magic, which meant that they had to take turns during the boat''s journey. They had to touch the balls with their hands, and let their magic flow into them. The balls would glow and hum, and the boat would respond ordingly. But they also had to be careful, as the balls would suck their magic until they were exhausted or released them. Harry was the one who handled the balls, as he had more magic and stamina than Hermione.

    Swallowing nervously, Hermione held the two sides of the rudder firmly, and turned her head to give Harry a look.

    With a slight hum, the oak boat finally moved forward.

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 0196 Race (Part-2)

    0196 Race (Part-2)

    Harry soon discovered a trick after mastering the boat.

    The speed of the oak boat depended on the amount of magic that was infused into it. Under normal passive magic absorption, the boat only moved as fast as a young wizard jogging. But if he rxed his mind and actively cooperated with the infusing of magic power, the boat could be as agile as an old-fashioned flying broomstick. Of course, the price of doing so was huge. In just half a minute, Harry felt as exhausted as if he had yed a fierce Quidditch match.

    He smashed a dull yellow cloud of smoke, but everything in front of him was still deste. With misty clouds everywhere, they couldn''t figure out which direction to go, nor where their ssmates were. The swamp was vast and gloomy, with no signs of life orndmarks. The only sounds were the sshes of the boat and the asional croaks of frogs?

    "Why didn''t he point out a direction, since it''s a race?"

    Harry spat out the slightly fishy mist that he identally inhaled into his nose, and muttered a little dissatisfied. He felt like they were wasting time and energy in this pointless exercise.

    "Maybe it''s to increase the difficulty, Harry¨C" Hermione analyzed rationally,

    "Don''t you understand Professor Watson''s style, Harry? To create such arge swamp in the staff Lounge, I can''t imagine how manyplex spells he had to cast. If it''s just to let us understand the Hinkypunk, I don''t see the need for this."

    She sounded both impressed and annoyed by the professor''s creativity and challenge.

    Harry moved his lips, and had to admit that Hermione''s opinions were very urate and reasonable most of the time.

    He withdrew his slightly stiff palm, and the oak boat slid forward by inertia for a distance. Harry looked at a strangely shaped charred tree, and his brows frowned suddenly. The tree was ckened and twisted, as if it had been struck by lightning. It stood out from the other green and brown trees in the swamp.

    "Do you feel it, Hermione,"

    He said in a very ethereal voice in the empty and silent environment,

    "That dead tree, we seemed to have passed by it a minute ago. Hermione, are we going around in circles?"

    Harry''s guess made Hermione frown too. She quickly took out her wand and pointed to the ground to cast a spell. She looked at the wand and gasped.

    "You''re right, Harry, we are lost. The wand is spinning like crazy. There must be some kind of enchantment here that confuses our sense of direction." She said with a worried tone. She hated being lost and helpless.

    Because Professor Watson didn''t give a direction to go, and there was no reference in the swamp, the two confused young wizards just picked a direction at random and kept going straight ahead. But they didn''t realize that, because of the constantly moving clouds and poor visibility here, people were prone to go around in circles in this situation.

    Harry took his palm off the wooden ball. He couldn''t figure out the direction of progress, and he couldn''t afford to consume magic like this. He felt his forehead sweating and his stomach rumbling. He wondered how long they had been in the swamp, and how much longer they had to endure.

    It was time for the unpleasant brainstorming session. Harry squatted in the cabin to rest, and Hermione sat opposite him with her legs together, muttering incessantly. She was trying to recall everything she had read or heard about swamps, spells, and navigation.

    "¨COh, I remember, in some Muggle books, it said that when you lose your way in the wild, you can tell the direction by the sun or the stars." She said with a hopeful voice.

    Harry immediately looked at the sky, and then lowered his head listlessly. The sky was covered with thick gray clouds, blocking any glimpse of the sun or the stars. He doubted that they even existed in this artificial swamp.

    "That''s right, Hermione, but the problem is that we are in the professor''s lounge now. Professor Watson obviously won''t be kind enough to give us a sun or a star."

    Harry said sarcastically.

    "I know there won''t be that, Harry,"

    Hermione said irritably. She continued to recall those Muggle books rted to travel, and muttered,

    "The direction of the water flow can also help us. It usually leads to arger body of water, or a lower elevation."

    Harry immediately stuck his head out of the boat, and in the swamp that was only half a meter deep, the water surface was smooth as a mirror, and he couldn''t see any trace of flow. The water was stagnant and murky, with no signs of movement or life. Harry was a bit discouraged and prepared to take his sight back, but just as he was about to do so, not far away, under the calm water surface, a few unusual silver lights caught his attention. They looked like small stars in the dark water.

    ''What is that?''

    Harry blinked his eyes and wondered, but then, the silver lights under the water seemed to sense Harry''s gaze, and quickly approached the boat. A few secondster, these silver lights came close to the range of thirty feet from the boat. Harry could see that they were actually the eyes of some strange fish. They had long and slender bodies, covered with fins and spines. They had sharp teeth and gills, and they looked like a cross between sharks and eels.

    "Shark fish?" Hermione''s slightly surprised voice attracted Harry''s attention.

    "What is that?"

    Looking at the fish covered with fins and spines, Harry asked curiously. He had never seen such fish before.

    "A kind of fish that lives in the Antic Ocean, with magical characteristics. There is a small section about it in the book ''Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them''."

    Hermione''s voice was heavy with uneasiness. She had read about the shark fish in the book, and she knew that they were not that dangerous but were very unpredictable and aggressive.

    "Be careful, Harry, they are aggressive. Oh!"

    She gasped, as she saw the water surface erupt with silver shes.

    <strong>Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh</strong>!

    As Hermione was exining, a dozen shark fish that were swimming around the boat leaped out of the water without any warning, and spat out sharp water arrows at them in mid-air.

    The water arrows were like bullets, piercing through the air with a whistling sound.

    Harry and Hermione were caught off guard and hit by a few, and their skin turned purple. They felt a burning sensation, as if they had been stung bytles. They quickly covered their wounds with their hands, hoping to ease the pain. They finally realized why Professor Watson had given the boat a magic shield. It was not only to protect them from the water, but also from the attacks of the swamp creatures.

    "Quick, control the rudder, Hermione, we can''t take this kind of force for long!"

    Harry screamed, and climbed to the stern with his hands and feet. He didn''t skimp on his magic, and pressed his palms firmly on the two wooden balls. The wooden balls were the source of the boat''s power, and they could be controlled by the user''s magic. Harry felt his magic flow into the balls, and then into the boat.

    While activating the magic shield, the boat glided quickly. The shield was like a transparent bubble, enveloping the boat and its passengers. It could deflect the water arrows, but it also consumed a lot of magic. Harry knew that he had to be careful, and not waste his magic.

    "But where should we go, Harry!"

    Hermione asked, as the speeding boat drew a huge and beautiful semicircle on the turbulent ke''. Theke was like a stormy sea, with waves crashing and sshing.

    The boat cut through the water, leaving a trail of foam behind. But they still couldn''t shake off those silver shark fish. They chased behind the boat, spitting out water arrows that rippled on the white shield, which also increased the magic consumption of maintaining the shield. The shark fish were relentless and cunning, and they seemed to enjoy the chase. They showed no signs of giving up, and they kept attacking from different angles.

    "Just find a direction,"

    Harry said, gritting his teeth and roaring. The howling wind made his messy hair even more chaotic. He felt his hair whipping his face, and his eyes watering.

    "Maintain the shield and speed up at the same time, I''m afraid I can''t hold on for long!"

    He said, feeling his magic draining rapidly. He felt his palms getting cold, and his arms getting numb. He knew that he had to conserve his magic, and find a way out of the swamp.

    "But¨C"

    Hermione protested. This vague instruction was the most deadly for her. She liked to have a clear and logical n, and she hated to act on impulse. She looked around anxiously, controlling the boat to dart in and out of the clouds, hoping to see something that could indicate the direction.

    The clouds were thick and gray, and they obscured the view. They also moved constantly, and changed shape. They made it hard to tell where they were, and where they were going. And just then, in the misty clouds, a suddenly appearing orange light ball caught her attention.

    The light ball was like antern, swinging and flickering. It looked warm and inviting, and it seemed to beckon them to follow it.

    In this moment of panic and anxiety, Hermione didn''t have time to think more. Instinctively, she turned the rudder, and controlled the boat to fly directly towards the swaying light ball.

    The appearance of the shark fish was like a signal. The staff lounge that was filled with suppressed silence was suddenly filled with terrified screams and painful wails from all directions!

    "Don''t go there, Hermione!"

    Harry shouted loudly, taking a quick look at the direction of the boat''s head. He saw the orange light ball, and he felt a chill in his spine. He remembered what Professor Watson had told them about the Hinkypunk, the small one-legged creature that could lure travellers with itsntern.

    "Can''t you see, Hermione, Professor Watson wants to use this method to make us panic, lose our calm, and be bewitched by the Hinkypunk!"

    He said, trying to warn Hermione.

    "Oh, maybe you''re right¨C"

    Hermione said, turning the direction urgently. She turned the rudder, and controlled the boat to fly away from the light ball. But she was toote, She felt a sudden jolt, and then a sharp pain. She screamed, and grabbed Harry''s hand. She almost threw herself and Harry out of the cabin, and into the water.

    "Let me do it, Hermione, you''re not good at this!"

    Harry said, taking advantage of the cabin''s drift by inertia. He climbed to the bow in three or two steps, and Hermione moved away.

    "It looks like a flying broom on the water, I can handle this. Hold on, Hermione!"

    It turned out that as the youngest Quidditch seeker in a century, Harry was not just so in a name. He had an outstanding talent in maneuvering fast-moving vehicles, whether they were flying brooms or floating boats. At the same speed, Hermione couldn''t get rid of those shark fish, but Harry only relied on a few agile turns and the visual obstruction of the surrounding clouds. He didn''t need much effort to make those magic fish dizzy andpletely left behind. He made the boat swerve and spin, and disappear into the clouds.

    But now, their oak boat was very close to the orange light ball that Hermione wanted to approach in the clouds. Guessing that there might be a Hinkypunk living there, Harry felt uneasy instinctively. He quickly turned the rudder, trying to get away from that area. And just then, in another direction, a muchrger oak boat, suddenly broke through the clouds and appeared in front of Harry and Hermione.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    Author''s Note: Shall I change the name of the fish or is it good? I was thinking of Silverback fish if the name shark-fish is not good. And I changed the previous chapter and uing chapters name to Race.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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 0197 Race (Part-3)

    0197 Race (Part-3)

    The oak boat that came into their sight was twice as big as Harry and Hermione''s boat. This was a special favor from Professor Watson to amodate the huge size of the two young wizards on board.

    Slytherin''s Crabbe and Goyle!

    Harry felt a wave of anger and disgust as he recognized the bulky figures of Malfoy''s cronies. Because Professor Watson had said that this was a race, Draco Malfoy had ruthlessly abandoned his two loyalckeys and chosen Pansy Parkinson, a simpering girl with a pug-like face, as his partner.

    Harry''s face sank as soon as he saw these two. He turned the rudder and changed direction to get away from them, but Hermione stopped him.

    "Wait, Harry, look at their faces."

    Hermione blinked and looked at Crabbe and Goyle, who were slowly drifting towards the orange light. She realized right away.

    "They seem to be bewitched by Hinkypunk!"

    That was indeed the case. Even though their boat was twice as big as the others, Crabbe and Goyle''s eyes were still dazed, and they looked silly. They stared nkly at the orange glow, ignoring Harry and Hermione not far away, and just controlled the boat to slowly go there.

    "It''s not easy for these two big fools." Harry sneered.

    "I guess their heads smoked before they figured out how to make this boat move, and that''s how Hinkypunk took advantage of them and controlled their minds."

    "Don''t say that, Harry."

    Hermione said in a slightly reproachful tone, then looked anxiously at Crabbe and Goyle, who were sliding into the foggy vortex.

    "Do you think we should warn them, Harry?"

    "Are you crazy, Hermione?"

    Harry''s eyes widened in surprise. "These two big fools won''t appreciate our kindness, and besides, Professor Watson won''t let the young wizards really get into trouble, he just wants to teach them a lesson. Malfoy used such a despicable way to frame Hagrid, and lied to avoid ying against the Gryffindor team. In my opinion, it''s just right to let them go down and take a bath!"

    Frowning slightly, Hermione hesitated and nodded.

    "Alright, you''re right."

    <strong>Ssh!</strong>

    Just as they were about to mind their own business and change direction to continue exploring, a horned, green-toothed, long-fingered monster suddenly jumped out of the pale green mud under the calm water.

    The monster grabbed the boat''s gunwale with one hand and reached straight for Crabbe''s cor with the other, as if it wanted to drown them both in the water! It was a Grindylow, a small water demon with a vicious temperament and a carnivorous appetite.

    "Rshio!"

    Seeing this scene, Hermione didn''t have time to think, and instinctively acted. She took out her wand and pointed it at the Grindylow. After a clear shout, a faint stream of air jumped over sixty feet in an instant, hitting the w of the thin and long finger that was holding the gunwale. The Revulsion Jinx was effective underwater, as it shot jets of boiling hot water that scalded the Grindylow''s skin and made it release its grip and retreat.

    <strong>Poof!</strong>

    The Grindylow fell into the water, and when it found out who had ruined its hunt, it immediately bared its teeth and snarled at Harry and Hermione. It looked like a furious crocodile with horns and long fingers, and it was not ready to give up. It swam towards them with incredible speed, stirring up two white waves behind it.

    "Well, it looks like Professor Watson has prepared the final exam for Defence Against the Dark Arts for us in advance."

    Harry raised his eyebrows and quickly took out his wand from his pocket and held it in front of him. His statement made Hermione a little embarrassed. She felt guilty for attracting the Grindylow''s attention.

    "Let me do it, Harry, this is my fault. I have a spell, I hope it can scare it away."

    Looking at the Grindylow that was like a speeding shark, Hermione came to Harry''s side, swallowed nervously, and then gently circled her slender wrist, whispering,

    <em><strong>"Canrady LeviOsa!"</strong></em>

    <strong>CLANG!</strong>

    On the charred wood not far away, a dangling dead branch made a crisp sound. Under Hermione''s control, the dead branch cut through the water with lightning speed and made a sharp scream. In an instant, the calm water surface rose up, and a ten-foot-high wall of water rolled over, directly knocking out the Grindylow that was rushing over.

    Bryan, who was floating in the air, withdrew his gaze back from Ron and Parvati, who were desperately dodging the water arrows from the Silverback Fish in the mud. He looked at Hermione with surprise and smiled softly.

    "Not bad, Miss Granger.."

    "Professor Watson''s Improved Levitation Charm?!"

    Harry eximed in astonishment, his green eyes wide as saucers. He stared at Hermione and asked,

    "What the hell, when did you master this spell?"

    "Just recently."

    Hermione smiled shyly, but she felt a surge of pride with the awe shown by Harry. She had been practicing the charm in secret, hoping to impress Professor Watson with her skills.

    "Potter¨C"

    As Harry and Hermione were amazed by the power and applicability of this spell, the water wall stirred up by the Improved Levitation Charm fell down, and the cascading waves caught up with Crabbe and Goyle''s boat, waking up the two people who were in a daze.

    In the oak cabin, the two big fools looked like drowned rats. They struggled to turn their walnut-sized brains, trying to figure out what was going on, and then they noticed Harry Potter not far away.

    They looked at each other happily, and Goyle pointed at Harry and showed a silly smile. He had a row of yellow teeth and a pug-like nose, and he looked more like a troll than a human.

    "You''re in trouble, Potter, Draco told us¨C"

    "Malfoy?" Harry''s eyes became alert. He looked at the two big idiots who had escaped by Hermione''s kindness, and asked harshly.

    "What did Malfoy tell you?"

    But Crabbe and Goyle were unexpectedly smarter than Harry thought. They nced at each other maliciously, and the next second, one rushed to the bow and the other to the stern.

    "Damn it!"

    Harry was quick-witted. He figured out what Malfoy had told the Slytherin gang of stinky snakes.

    "Go to the stern, Hermione!" He shouted. "I guess Malfoy gave them orders, as soon as they see our boat, they''ll attack!"

    He knew that Malfoy was a coward, who would never face Harry himself, but would use his minions to do his dirty work.

    "But, Harry!" Hermione stumbled back to the stern, injecting magic to make the oak boat move.

    "Professor Watson clearly said that we are not allowed to attack each other!"

    She was a rule-abiding girl, who always respected her teachers and followed their instructions. She did not want to get into trouble, or worse, lose points for Gryffindor.

    "Professor Watson only said that we are not allowed to use our wands to attack each other, Hermione!" Harry said. Sincest year, when he was tricked by Professor Watson in dealing with the ''Inferi'', he had learned to listen carefully to his instructions.

    As Harry said, Crabbe and Goyle drove their boat straight at them, and this was no fun. Their boat was twice as big as normal, and once they hit it, they would be superior to others. Due to its mass, there was no way Harry and Hermione''s boat could survive the damage. It would be smashed to pieces, and they would be thrown into the water, where they would face the dangers of the Grindylows, the Silverback Fish, and the Hinkypunks.

    <strong>ng!</strong>

    It was just a slight collision. As Hermione screamed, the two people''s boat shook violently from side to side, and Harry and Hermione might have been thrown out of the cabin if they hadn''t been prepared enough. They held on to the gunwale tightly, and tried to bnce the boat.

    "I thought their boat would be slow!" Harry gritted his teeth.

    "Professor Watson probably put a spell on this boat, ignoring the weight factor, and only considering our magic!" Hermione screamed.

    She realized that Professor Watson had enchanted the boats to match the magic level of the upants, and that Crabbe and Goyle had an advantage over them. They had not used much magic, while Harry and Hermione had used a lot to deal with the obstacles and the creatures in the water. Their boat was slower and weaker, and they had to find a way to escape.

    In the process of dodging the Silverback Fish just now, Harry and Hermione had consumed a lot of magic. Harry and Hermione had to use their wands to deflect the water arrows, and to stun the fish that came too close.

    Because of the fast speed, Crabbe and Goyle''s boat drew a huge arc when turning on the water surface, and taking advantage of this time, Harry and Hermione barely stabilized the boat and ran in another direction, but Crabbe and Goyle chased them up with a grin.

    "These two stupid fools probably never had such a glorious moment in their lives!" Harry thought angrily. He felt like he was riding a Nimbus 2000 andpeting with a Firebolt, being crushed in a straight line, and could only rely on constantly flexible turning to avoid Crabbe and Goyle''s repeated collisions.

    "Show them what you just did, Hermione, or we''ll end up feeding the fish."

    Harry said. He was referring to the Improved Levitation Charm that Hermione had used earlier, to knock out the Grindylow that had attacked them.

    "Oh, no, Harry!" Hermione stubbornly said with a sweaty cheek.

    "You said it yourself, Professor Watson doesn''t allow us to use magic to attack each other!"

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 0198 Race (Part-4)

    0198 Race (Part-4)

    Sometimes, Hermione''s stubbornness really gives Harry and Ron a headache. Just like the matter of Scabbers, there were so many irond evidences in front of them, but she still insisted that Scabbers'' death had nothing to do with Crookshanks, her fluffy ginger cat, even though she couldn''t produce any proof to show Crookshanks'' innocence. She imed that Scabbers had run away, but Ron was convinced that Crookshanks had eaten his pet.

    "Well, let me see what else I can do¨C"

    Harry gasped, his eyes darting around, hoping to find something to help them.

    "Uh!" Suddenly, Harry''s eyes lit up. He spotted something in the distance that gave him an idea.

    "Ha, there''s a way, Hermione, we can make Malfoy''s two little minions suffer a bit!"

    By then, Hermione''s sweat-drenched cheeks had turned a bit pale. The magic power she had consumed to shield their boat from the Slytherins'' attacks and Harry''s continuous control of the boat to make sharp turns at the critical moments made her head a bit dizzy. Hearing Harry say he had an idea to get rid of Crabbe and Goyle, she couldn''t even squeeze out a happy expression. She just nodded her head weakly while suppressing the nausea. She trusted Harry, but she hoped he knew what he was doing.

    "Hey, you two!"

    With an idea in mind, Harry felt like he was back on the intense and exciting Quidditch pitch. He kept adjusting his position, sending out false signals. Like restraining the opponent Seeker, he restrained Crabbe and Goyle. He pretended to be scared and confused, luring them into a trap. He wanted them to think that they had the upper hand, that they could catch up with them.

    And finally, after half a minute, the turbulent water surface of the two boat''s rtive position made Harry feel satisfied. He shouted at Crabbe and Goyle who had overshot because of the high speed. They had fallen for his trick, and now they were in trouble.

    "Can''t you be smarter?" Harry mocked andughed. "Without Malfoy, you seem to have degenerated into savage trolls!"

    "You dare to say that, Potter!" Crabbe roared. "I think you''re the troll!"

    Then, Crabbe and Goyle really looked like two small trolls. Their eyes only had Harry''s mocking smile, and they ignored everything around them. They were blinded by rage and stupidity.

    "Speed up, Hermione!"

    Seeing the menacing two, Harry''s heart beat faster. He held the rudder tightly, asking Hermione to inject all the magic power into the oak boat under them. He needed to get away from them, and from the ce where he had led them. In an instant, the boat was hurtling forward like a car stepping on the gas pedal, speeding forward, directly hitting a cloud of mist floating on the water surface. The mist was thick and cold, obscuring their vision. But Harry knew what was behind it, and he hoped they could make it. It was a risky move, but he was willing to take the chance.

    The familiar wind whistled in his ears, flying the boat. Harry unexpectedly found a bit of the thrill of riding his beloved Nimbus 2000 in the air.

    But even so, the distance between the two boats was still shrinking at an rming speed, and it looked like they would collide heavily in just a few seconds! Crabbe and Goyle had not given up, and they had increased their speed as well.

    "Harry!" Hermione, who was lying on the stern, looked at the shadow behind her and reminded him nervously. She hoped Harry had a n, because she didn''t. She was out of magic, and out of ideas.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    "Hold on, Hermione!"

    Suddenly, Harry crouched down and hit the rudder hard. The whole boat kept jumping on the water and in the air, like a stone skipping on the water!

    At first, Crabbe and Goyle didn''t care, thinking that Potter was just repeating his old tricks. They thought he was trying to dodge them, to avoid them. But when they turned in the same direction, the oak boat under them drifted forward on the water. They noticed something was wrong, because the direction in which the boat lost control was the mud pit where the Hinkypunk that made them lose their minds lived!

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    The raging wind scattered the weird smoke in an instant. A mud pit vortex with a diameter of about twenty feet suddenly appeared in Crabbe and Goyle''s terrified eyes. And with them, there was also a Hinkypunk, the size of a house-elf that changed between real and unreal like a mist. It had been hiding in the smoke, waiting for its prey. And now it had found it.

    This Hinkypunk, holding a swinging ''will-o''-the-wisp'', stared nkly at the huge boat that was like a giant to it. It had never seen anything like it before, and it didn''t know what to do. It was confused and scared, and it wanted to run away. But it was toote. And before it could scream, it was hit and ''scattered''!

    The boat crashed into the Hinkypunk, and the Hinkypunk dissolved into nothing. The reason why the mud pit vortex where the Hinkypunk lived had such a strong suction force was that it harbored a kind of fish widely found in the Indian Ocean - the Ramora fish. This fish had a strong magic power. In the Middle Ages, the sailing wizards would use them as anchors for their ships.

    This was a tragic thing for Crabbe and Goyle.

    The sudden halt of the boat was a catastrophic event for the two burly boys who had a tremendous amount of inertia. They were flung into the air with a burst of ear-piercing screams, drawing a beautiful arc across the sky, and finally smashing into the water with a loud ssh like a depth charge. The impact created huge waves that rippled across theke, startling the nearby creatures.

    Harry, who had managed to stop his boat not far away,ughed out loud at this ridiculous and hrious scene. He couldn''t help but feel a surge of satisfaction at seeing Crabbe and Goyle get their karma. Even Hermione, who had been feeling drowsy and listless, couldn''t help but curl up her lips into a faint smile.

    But Crabbe and Goyle''s tragic fate was not over yet.

    When they had juste to their senses, arge group of Silverback fish swam over from somewhere. They were vicious and predatory fish that had razor-sharp teeth and powerful jaws. They circled around the two boys, constantly spraying water arrows at them, hurting them so much that they howled in pain and fear. This time, even Hermione didn''t have any pity for them.

    "Congrattions to all of you for sessfully passing the first round ofpetition¨C"

    A familiar voice suddenly echoed over the vastke. It was clear and authoritative, and it carried a hint of amusement.

    "Then, the remaining warriors, willpete for the glory on the track!"

    "It''s Professor Watson''s voice!"

    Harry, who had helped Hermione up, reacted immediately. Before he could think about the meaning of Professor Watson''s words, the space around them boiled like water. It was a strange and dizzying sensation. Then, Harry felt a rapid rush to the sky, and the earth was quickly moving away from his sight. He held on to Hermione tightly, hoping that she was alright.

    And when his vision cleared, he swept over the unmasked space, Harry''s face darkened.

    He saw three hundred feet away, Ron and Parvati, who had bruises on their faces, were using the oak boat that was stuck in the mud pit as a shield to avoid a group of silverback fish''s water arrows. They looked exhausted and desperate. Lavender and Seamus, who had used up their energy, resignedly leaned on the boat''s side and didn''t move. And many other Gryffindors were also roughly in the same situation, only Neville and Dean looked simr to him and Hermione. They had managed to evade the silverback fish and conserve their magic power.

    And Slytherin, Harry nced over them roughly. Malfoy and Parkinson''s group wereughing at the two Gryffindors they had sent into the mud pit. The one who had a grudge with Hermione, the tall and sturdy Millicent Bulstrode, was staring coldly at him. She looked like she wanted to eat him and Hermione. Behind her, Theodore Nott was silent, looking like he hadn''t consumed much energy.

    In addition, Slytherin had another group of people, a girl who looked pretty aloof, Daphne Greengrass and her teammate ise Zabini. They were discussing quietly ording to the current situation. They looked calm and confident, as if they had a n. It had to be said that for such a game with no prior information, the Slytherins, who were more calm and cautious, had an advantage over the Gryffindors.

    "Three against two, and we''ve consumed more magic power!"

    Harry was good at analyzing the game situation as a Quidditch ace. After a few nces, he had already foreseen what would happen next.

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 0199 Race (Part-5)

    0199 Race (Part-5)

    The changes around them were not over yet. The clouds and mist that had been floating on the surface of the vastke like a thin veil quickly gathered under the influence of magic. They formed two towering fog walls that were a mile long and blocked the view of the other side. The center of the fog walls was the narrow track for the finalpetition, where the boats would have to navigate through the obstacles and dangers.

    The injured ones, who had lost their ability topete, floated up from the cabins or the water one by one, looking miserable and dejected. They drifted to thend at the ssroom door, where they were greeted by the concerned faces of their ssmates. The remaining five boats returned to the shore and lined up neatly.

    Professor Watson, who had not appeared for a while, popped out from somewhere and faced the resentful eyes of the little wizards with a smile that seemed to mock their plight.

    "So, what to do next is obvious, right?"

    Bryan pointed to the track divided by the fog wall and said cheerfully. His voice echoed across theke, making it sound like he was speaking from everywhere at once.

    "Slytherin has three groups, Gryffindor has two groups. Next, you will race to the opposite shore with all your strength. There will be some of the cute little creatures that you have just seen randomly arranged on the track. They will try to stop you, bite you, or drag you down. At the end of the track, there will be a fork, one leading to glory, one leading to failure. Only by making the right choice will you get the final victory."

    "If I were you, Potter,"

    Malfoy sneered, after Professor Watson finished introducing the rules.

    "I would take that old broom and go to the owl barn to sweep bird droppings. You know,- to avoid humiliating yourself in front of everyone!"

    Harry didn''t retort immediately for the first time. He supported Hermione, who was trembling with exhaustion and pain, and nced at the Slytherins who had reached a consensus. They looked confident and smug, as if they had already won. Then he gasped and said sarcastically.

    "It surprised me, Malfoy. I thought your loyal servants were only those two idiots."

    He pointed at Crabbe and Goyle, who were sitting behind Malfoy and nodding dumbly.

    "There''s no need to sow discord, Potter."

    Unexpectedly, the thin and weak boy on Millicent Bulstrode''s boat, who seemed to have a faint sense of alienation from the other Slytherins, Theodore Nott, said sullenly. Harry had hardly paid attention to him before. He had a pale face and dark eyes that looked cold and calcting.

    "Longbottom won''t pose any threat to us, Potter. As long as we make you fall into the water, Slytherin will win today. And, if you are injured Gryffindor will lose tomorrow''s Quidditch match. This is killing two birds with one stone."

    Nott''s words immediately aroused a fierce reaction from the Gryffindors on the shore who were resting. They shouted insults and curses at the Slytherins, who responded with equal venom. Ron yelled ''despicable'' and wanted to rush up and give Nott a punch, but he was forced back by a look from Bryan, who raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

    ''Not bad, kid, you are clever.''

    Bryan didn''t say a word, but his eyes showed a faint appreciation.

    Most of the descendants of the pure-blood wizard families that had been inherited for hundreds of years were some useless prodigal sons, who relied on their wealth and status to get by. But asionally there were a few who were outstanding under the nurturing of elite education, who had ambition and were cunning, who knew how to use their resources and allies to achieve their goals.

    Harry clenched his lips. To be honest, he knew that Malfoy and his gang had this idea from the beginning, but he was still surprised that these Snakes said it so frankly.

    "What should we do, Harry?" Neville, who was soaked by the water, blinked his eyes, looking clueless.

    "There''s only one way, Harry,"

    Hermione, who was still pale, said softly. She looked at Harry with a determined expression, even though her voice was weak and shaky.

    "You have to give up on me-"

    Harry was about to say something, but Hermione interrupted him.

    "If you want to win, you have to do this, Harry. And, Dean-" Hermione looked at Dean, who was also pale. He had been injured by the grindylows, who had torn his clothes and skin with their sharp teeth.

    "And you, Dean, you have to give up the game too. We are both in the same situation. Even if we persist, we will only drag our teammate!"

    Harry, Neville and Dean understood Hermione''s meaning. Instead of keeping two people who couldn''t y any role, they might as well merge the team and streamline it into abat-effective team. In this way, they might be able to find a chance of victory in the foreseeable siege of Slytherin. They looked at each other, and nodded silently.

    "A very wise choice, Miss Granger-"

    Bryan nodded approvingly at Hermione, then turned to look at the little guys who were staggering, and said with a smile that was full of anticipation and excitement.

    "Please wait a moment, everyone. I''ll take you to the hospital togetherter."

    Bryan said casually, as if he was talking about the weather. He ignored the groans and curses of the young wizards who were lying on the ground or floating in the water, injured and exhausted. He smiled and pped his hands, signaling the start of the final race.

    ''Do you hear yourself, is this what a professor should say?''

    The young wizards thought so, and tick marks appeared on their foreheads. They felt like they had been tricked by the professor, who had promised them a fun and educational practical ss, but instead had put them through a series of dangerous and painful challenges. They wished they could hex him, but they knew that would be a very bad idea.

    "Ha, I''ll wait for you at the finish line, Potter. I hope you can swim faster!"

    Malfoyughed triumphantly as soon as Bryan announced the start of the game. He didn''t waste any time, and quickly steered his boat towards the foggy track. Just as Harry expected, Malfoy didn''t intend to entangle him. He knew that he had the advantage, and he didn''t want to risk losing it by engaging in a fight. He gave this ''glorious'' task to Bulstrode and Greengrass.

    "Give Malfoy a taste of his own medicine, Harry!" Ron roared angrily with his face covered in mud, standing on the shore.

    "If you can''t do it, don''t expect to sleep in bed tonight!" He added, trying to motivate Harry with a threat.

    Uh¨C Everyone looked at Ron, including Bryan and Hermione, and they all showed a stunned expression.

    "Oh, what''s wrong?" Ron shivered a few times, being targeted by so many weird eyes. He felt embarrassed and flustered, and wished he could take back his words. He looked innocently at Hermione, who couldn''t help butugh, and muttered softly,

    "I mean, I share a dormitory with Harry. Nothing else-"

    He tried to exin, but he only made it worse.

    Neville''s chubby cheeks were red and transparent. He inexplicably became the hope of the whole house. He felt a lot of pressure. He had never been good at anything, and had always been clumsy and timid. If it weren''t for Harry being with him, he would probably copse.

    "What should we do, Harry?"

    Neville asked, after Malfoy left. Greengrass and Bulstrode didn''t follow him. They sandwiched Harry and Neville on the left and right, staring at them with a fierce and malicious look. It seemed that they had made up their minds to entangle them and let Malfoy win.

    "We can''t give up, Neville!" Harry gritted his teeth and said. He felt a surge of adrenaline, and he was determined to win. The wind whistled, and the still boat shot out like an arrow off the string. Harry stared at Malfoy''s back that was quickly moving away, his eyes burning with determination. But-

    "Watch out, Harry!"

    Not only Neville, but also many Gryffindors on the shore anxiously reminded him. They saw the danger that Harry and Neville were in, and they wanted to warn them. They felt helpless and worried, and they hoped that Harry and Neville could avoid the attack.

    Harry turned his head urgently, but saw Millicent and Daphne, who had a cold smile and a calm look, turning their heads, forming an ''X'' trajectory and mming into his stern!

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    Harry''s boat lifted its bow like a pirate ship. It was a violent and unexpected impact, and it almost threw Harry and Neville off the boat. If Harry hadn''t grabbed the rudder, he might have been thrown into the water. Neville was even more miserable. He was crawling in the cabin, his right hand pressed on the wooden hemisphere on the side of the boat. The boat elerated instantly, making his body slide uncontrobly. His face and the boat made close contact. When Harry controlled the boat, Neville, who had suffered a nosebleed, was already covered in blood! He looked like he had been in a fist-fight, and he felt a sharp pain in his nose and forehead.

    The Gryffindors on the shore were so angry that they almost overturned the roof. They couldn''t believe that the Slytherins would resort to such a dirty and cowardly trick, and they wanted to protest and fight back.

    Hermione rushed to Professor Watson''s face and shouted indignantly,

    "This is unfair, Slytherin is cheating, they are using despicable means to win, is this allowed, professor?!"

    "I don''t see any problem, Miss Granger-" Bryan said calmly, facing the little witch''s usation.

    "Just like you and Mr. Thomas voluntarily quit the game to ensure victory, and let Harry and Neville form a team, Slytherin just chose a tactic that was beneficial for winning. I think their choice is very wise."

    Hermione''s cheeks swelled red. She tried hard to turn her head and say something to refute, but she realized that she had no argument. Since Professor Watson only forbade the young wizards to attack each other with wands, Millicent and Greengrass''s actions were not against the rules.

    "How are you, Neville?"

    The lifted bow mmed into the water and bounced several times. Harry, who had barely stood firm, immediately looked at Neville. He was worried about his friend, and he wanted to make sure that he was alright. He thought that Neville, who was easily scared, must have been terrified, but he didn''t expect that Neville was braver than he thought.

    "I''m fine, Harry." Neville said in a panic. He wiped his nose and looked at the blood in his hand. He was stunned, but he didn''t say anything. He just wiped it on his robe under Harry''s worried eyes. Then he gasped and looked at the boat that was blocking the front,pletely blocking the track.

    Millicent and Daphne, the two Slytherin girls, had their attention on Harry all the time. They watched his every move with a predatory and malicious gaze, waiting for the right moment to strike. Theodore and ise, frowned at the same time. They seemed to sense something ufortable in the eyes of the soft-faced little boy who looked at them again.

    "You don''t have to ask for trouble, Potter and Longbottom."ise Zabini said.

    "It''s more sensible to give up now."

    "No¨C" Harry''s emerald eyes were burning with fire. He red coldly at the Slytherins blocking the track and said.

    "I will never give up!"

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 0200 The Final Winner (Part-1)

    0200 The Final Winner (Part-1)

    "Stupid Gryffindors!, what else can you do, Potter? You are out of options."

    As Harry''s defiant words elicited cheers from the Gryffindor wizards, ise Zabini looked at Harry with undisguised contempt in his dark brown eyes.

    He sneered as he saw Harry''s boat stuck in front of the narrow river that was blocked by two oak boats lying across, leaving a gap that was too small to pass another boat.

    In the distance, Draco slowed down, not only because Parkinson''s magic was insufficient to support the whole course at high speed, but also because the randomly distributed Hinkypunks hidden in the fog always brought them some interference. They could only be defeated by a st of light and a correctly pronounced incantation. Not to mention, in the second half of the course, Professor Watson''s silverback-fish were also constantly attacking them. The silverback-fish could swim fast and shoot water arrows that were slightly poisonous and could cause swelling and itching. If they did not want to be hit by those annoying water arrows with a bruised nose and swollen face, they had to prop up a magic barrier, which also further consumed their magic.

    Harry withdrew his gaze and said nothing, facing the Slytherin blocking the way, he showed the same sharp eyes. He was not going to give up easily. He had a n, and he needed to execute it perfectly. He nced at Neville, who was sitting at the stern of the boat, and saw that he was ready.

    At some point, Bryan had gotten himself a high-backed armchair. He crossed his legs, holding a cup of steaming green tea, a leisurely look of watching a good show on his face.

    What would Harry do? Not only the wizards behind him, but also Bryan was a bit curious.

    Just as everyone was guessing whether Harry would crash into them, or even if he fell into the water, he would also hit the Slytherin''s arrogance, Harry slowly took out his wand from his pocket, steadily pointing at Daphne and the others.

    "You want to attack us, Potter?" Theo''s mouth curled up with a sneer. "You wouldn''t have forgotten Professor Watson''s rules, would you?"

    "Neville!" The moment Theo''s words fell, Harry suddenly shouted, and Neville at the stern, who had been silent all the time, but had been prepared, did not hesitate to p the right side of the boat as soon as Harry called out!

    Neville and Harry''s boat was like a sharp ice knife, suddenly cutting open the water surface and stirring up rolling waves. They went straight to Millicent and Theo''s boat, as if as people expected, ready to fight one for one, but¡­.

    <em>"cius!"</em>

    Just when the two sides were still twenty feet apart, Harry''s wand suddenly drooped and pointed at the water surface and shouted. A cold air hissed out, rippling the water surface and instantly forming a hardyer of ice. Harry''s wrist lifted, the iceyer immediately nted up and spread, forming a ramp! He had used a freezing charm to create a slope that would lift their boat over the obstacle.

    <strong><em>Ssh</em>!</strong>

    Time seemed to stretch at this moment. The four Slytherin wizards slowly looked up. The crystal-clear beads sshing in mid-air reflected their astonished and ridiculous expressions. Everything was like a dream. They could not believe what they were seeing. Harry and Neville''s boat had soared into the air, flying over their heads, andnding on the other side of the river.

    <strong>Boom</strong>!

    The small boats that fell again and hit the water surface made a thunderous sound. Time resumed. Ron and Hermione on the shore cheered up instantly.

    "Well done, Harry!" Ron shouted, and the other Gryffindor wizards who were a beat slower alsoughed and shouted like they were under a happiness spell. They were ecstatic to see Harry''s brilliant move.

    In contrast, the Slytherin wizards immediately fell into gloom. Crabbe and Goyle covered in mud looked viciously as if they wanted to rush over and throw Ron into the water, but they were held back by Bryan''s slightly cold eyes.

    Harry and Neville left them in a dust. Three secondster, the two Slytherin boats reacted, quickly turned the boat around, and chased after them. They were furious and embarrassed, and they wanted to catch up and get revenge. But they had lost precious time and distance, and they knew it would be hard to overtake Harry and Neville.

    When they were fully focused, the naturally grown Hinkypunks were not easy to mislead. Not only Harry and Neville, but also Bryan''s set of mud traps did not cause much trouble to Millicent and Daphne.

    The three speedboats glided flexibly on the water surface, and in no time they had run a third of the course. They avoided the false lights and the mud pits, and used their wands to light up the Hinkypunks and make them disappear.

    Just when the six wizards were feeling a little tired, the silverback-fish came out to make trouble again. They swarmed around the boats, snapping their jaws and shooting their water arrows.

    Under the light green water surface, a few water arrows that came unexpectedly grazed Harry''s cheek. Harry, who was staring at Malfoy''s gradually clear back, jumped in fright. His steering hand also shook, almost hitting a jumping orangemp near the shore! Themp was one of the Hinkypunks''nterns, and if Harry had touched it, he would have been lured into a bog. He quickly swerved to avoid it, but he lost some speed and bnce.

    <strong>Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!</strong>

    The constantly interwoven water arrows were like a transparent covering the two people. Neville squatted in the cabin. Because of the angle, the silverback-fish''s water arrows could not attack him. But Harry was not so lucky. In order to ensure that the view was not obstructed, he could only control the boat and dodge desperately. But even so, a stray arrow that hit above his eyebrow made him dizzy, and then his forehead swelled up. He felt a sharp pain and a burning sensation, and he knew that the arrow was slightly poisonous. He hoped that it would not affect his vision or concentration.

    "Harry, should we open the barrier!"

    Neville noticed the abnormal shaking of the boat and saw Harry''s miserable appearance. He wanted to consult Harry''s opinion, whether they should use their magic to create a protective shield around their boat. It would block the water arrows, but it would also drain their magic.

    "No, Neville!" Even though one eye could not see clearly, Harry still decisively rejected Neville''s proposal.

    "Magic is more precious to us. We don''t have extra magic to protect ourselves!"

    He said, remembering Professor Watson''s words. The magical boat race was not only a test of speed and skill, but also of strategy and resource management. The students had to use their magic wisely, and save some for the final stretch. Harry knew that they would need their magic at that time for something more important than opening a barrier.

    Looking back at Harry''s back that did not waver at all, Neville blinked, as if he was greatly touched.

    But for the two Slytherin boats, their determination could notpare with Harry and Neville. And besides, Millicent and Daphne, the two little witches, obviously cared very much about their image. They did not want to be like Potter and those unlucky ones on the shore, walking out of this ssroom with a head full of bumps.

    After the first round of attack by the silverback-fish, they both ordered the boys behind them to open the magic barrier, blocking those sharp water arrows. They did not care about the cost of their magic, as long as they could keep their faces intact. They thought that they could rely on Malfoy to win the race for them, and they only had to support him.

    And this also meant that Theo and ise''s magic would be consumed at twice the speed. They had just caught up with Potter''s boat with the help of the silverback-fish, and they would soon fall behind, and never catch up with Potter and Longbottom. They felt their magic draining, and they knew that they had made a mistake. They should have listened to Malfoy, who had told them to conserve their magic and not to use the barrier. But they had ignored his advice, and now they had to pay the price.

    So, for the two Slytherin boats, there was only one way to continue to help Malfoy. They had to stop Potter and Longbottom from reaching the finish line, even if it meant sacrificing themselves.

    Across Potter and Longbottom''s boat, Millicent and Daphne looked at each other, and they both thought of this method. They nodded, and signaled to Theo and ise. They did not need to say anything, they knew what they had to do.

    <strong>ng</strong>!

    In an instant, the three oak boats that were side by side squeezed together. In Harry''s angry eyes, Millicent Bulstrode''s thick chin shook, and she mockingly said,

    "We won''t let you easily steal the spotlight, Potter!"

    She taunted Harry, trying to provoke him and distract him.

    "What are these despicable snakes trying to do!!!" Ron roared at this time, and Hermione said nothing, but her face was ugly, obviously guessing the reason why Millicent and Daphne did this.

    ''<em>Yes, this could indeed send Potter out of the game¨C</em>''

    Bryan sipped the bitter tea, his expression unchanged, but his heart was smiling. He was impressed by the Slytherins'' cunning and ruthlessness, and he was curious to see how Harry would react.

    "What do you want to do!" Harry''s face was pale, he tried to control the rudder, gritting his teeth. He felt the pressure from both sides, and he knew that he was trapped.

    "You don''t need to think about it, Potter." ise said arrogantly, "In the end, there is only one winner, and that is Slytherin!"

    "Be careful, Harry, there''s a trap ahead!"

    Harry thought they just wanted to drag him down, but the reminder from Neville made him realize ise''s real intention¨Cto ensure Malfoy''s victory, they wanted to drag the only Gryffindor boat to die together! He looked ahead, and he saw a cloud of fog looming. He knew that behind the fog, there was a mud pit, one of Bryan''s traps. The mud pit was a deep and sticky pool of mud, that would slow down any boat that fell into it. It would be almost impossible to get out of it, and it would take a lot of time and magic.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    The next thing that happened was as expected. Millicent and Daphne, one on the left and one on the right, mped Harry and Neville''s boat tightly. And then, the three boats together, whizzed and smashed a cloud of fog, and fell into the mud pit together!

    The sudden deceleration to a standstill of the small boat made the six people on board roll over, but fortunately they were all mentally prepared and no one was thrown into the water. They were covered in mud, and they felt the sticky substance clinging to their clothes and skin.

    Despair spread with the silence. Looking at Harry and Neville who tried so hard to bring glory to Gryffindor, Hermione sobbed directly among the ssmates with gray faces.

    Ron opened his mouth slightly, looking at Harry who struggled to get up and stood in the cabin in disbelief, and then at Hermione who had tears in her eyes. He finally raised his hand clumsily and patted Hermione on the shoulder, trying tofort her and himself.

    "Professor Watson!"

    The Slytherin wizards couldn''t contain their excitement. They cheered and pped, celebrating their victory.

    Crabbeughed stupidly, his face smeared with mud and his eyes gleaming with malice. He shouted,

    "You can announce Draco''s victory!"

    "That may not be the case, Crabbe¨C"

    Bryan held the teacup, smiling calmly. He looked at Neville, who was in the boat, and said,

    "There is no winner at until the end, Longbottom?"

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0201 The Final Winner (Part-2)

    0201 The Final Winner (Part-2)

    Harry climbed out of the oak boat that had fallen into the muddy pit with a thud. A water arrow had grazed his eye corner, leaving a painful swollen bump that made him almost unable to see anything with that eye. As he red at the four Slytherins who also stood up panting, his eyes seemed to spit fire. His anger almost burst his stomach when he saw their smug looks.

    "You don''t have to look at us like that, Potter," ise said, wiping the water droplets sshed on his face. He smiled smugly, showing his white teeth.

    "Isn''t the meaning of the game to win by any means?" He shrugged, as if he had done nothing wrong.

    "Ha!" Harry sneered. "That''s true for Slytherin, just like your Quidditch team, cowardly wimps, who try every way to avoid ying against Gryffindor for a little trivial advantage!" He clenched his fists, feeling the anger rising in his chest.

    "You can rant here as much as you want, Potter!"

    Millicent, who was much stronger than Harry, looked down at Harry with contempt, and said indifferently. She had short brown hair and a broad nose, and she towered over Harry like a giant.

    "Anyway, you have lost this contest, and when this school year ends, you will see Slytherin lift the Quidditch Cup for the seventh consecutive time. Potter, I look forward to seeing what your face will look like then." She snorted, as if she had already seen the future.

    Harry wanted to retort immediately, but Neville''s words made the people stranded in the track stunned.

    "We didn''t lose."

    Neville''s round face showed determination. Harry was stunned, because he seemed to see Neville facing the arrogant eyes of the Slytherin purebloods without flinching for the first time. Neville had always been timid and clumsy, but now he looked brave and confident.

    "We didn''t lose, Harry," Neville repeated, his hair that was wet by the water clumped on his forehead. He looked very funny, but now no one could ignore the firmness in his eyes. He had a small scar on his cheek, a souvenir from thest time he had faced the silverback-fish.

    "Are you crazy, Longbottom?" Daphne curled her lip. "Or did you suffer too much shock and lose your mind? Can''t you see the current situation? We are all stuck in the mud vortex and can''t get out, but Slytherin still has Draco and Pansy. You-"

    She pointed at the two figures who were still racing towards the finish line, unaware of the chaos behind them.

    Neville didn''t wait for Daphne''s cold words to finish. He turned around and pounced on the half-sphere at the stern of the boat. It was a magical device that controlled the speed and direction of the boat. After a low roar, he pped the half-sphere with all his strength.

    The boat shook violently as if it wanted to rush forward, but then it stopped again under the astonished eyes of the Slytherin students, and remained motionless. They thought Neville had failed, and theyughed at his futile attempt.

    "If you want to amuse us," Daphne said with a sneer, patting her chest and pretending to be frightened. "You seeded, Longbottom, we were scared by you!" She rolled her eyes, and the other Slytherins joined her in mocking Neville.

    In the cheerfulughter of the remaining three Slytherins, Daphne red at the ''foolish'' Neville. Her tone was full of disgust.

    "Look at your stupid appearance, Longbottom, you are a disgrace to your bloodline. I know something interesting. I heard that your stupid parents¨C"

    "Don''t you dare insult my dad and mom!"

    Just as the Slytherins began to mock Neville, Harry''s hand holding the wand naturally lifted up. He had been hesitating whether to disobey the rules set by Professor Watson''s, but when Daphne mentioned Neville''s parents, his wand had already raised over his head. The me burning in his eyes had extinguished the worry about the punishment he would receive. Anyway, he was ready to teach these stinky-snakes a lesson.

    But Neville roared. The piercing scream and the suddenly moving boat cabin made Harry forget to punish the rude Slytherins. He looked at the stern in astonishment. Neville''s wet head was steaming with white smoke, his forehead veins bulging. He let out a lion-like roar, the sharpness in his eyes for a moment even made Harry think he had mistaken the person.

    It moved, the boat really moved!

    Neville had broken free from the magic fixation of the Ramora fish lurking in the mud pit with his explosive magic!

    Bang! After the heavy impact, there were several sshes of water that caught them off guard. Looking at Harry and Neville who were galloping away, the Slytherins who stood up from the water in embarrassment were stunned, speechless for a long time. They had underestimated Neville, and they had paid the price.

    "Yay-!" "Awesome!!!"

    The cheers of the Gryffindor wizards burst out like fireworks and shook the roof with their thunder. They waved their scarlet and gold gs, and hugged each other in excitement. Especially when they saw the pale faces of the Slytherins next to them, the joy in their hearts was about to burst out. They had witnessed a miracle, and they couldn''t believe their eyes.

    "But how did they do it!" one of them eximed, pointing at Harry and Neville speeding away from the mud pit. They had been stuck there for a long time, and it seemed that they had no hope of catching up with Draco.

    Some of the Gryffindor wizards had tried something simr when they fell into the mud pit, but let alone breaking free from the bondage, they couldn''t even shake a few times. The mud was thick and sticky, and the Ramora fish was too powerful.

    "This is called ''Exploding Seed¨C" Bryan leaned back on the chair again, and answered the question with a smile.

    Harry was also confused by Neville''s shocking performance. He didn''t know how Neville did it, but now it was obviously not the time to worry about this. Since Gryffindor had another chance to win the game, Harry''s eyes sparkled and made up his mind. He had to seize the opportunity no matter what! He gripped the rudder and steered the boat towards the track.

    When Harry and Neville finally got rid of ise and his gang, and rushed to the halfway point of the race, Draco and Pansy were about to reach the fork of the ''Y'' shaped track, which meant that as long as they made one correct choice, they could easily win the race.

    "What''s wrong with Longbottom?" Draco muttered, his eyes narrowing.

    Only by winning could he better humiliate Potter, Draco understood this simple truth. He and Pansy had been rushing all the way, trying to strangle Gryffindor as soon as possible, but they couldn''t ignore the big movement in the first half of the track.

    When Millicent and Daphne hijacked Potter''s boat and rushed into the mud pit, Malfoy and Parkinson, who were relying on the oak boat''s inertia to drive, were trying to recover some physical strength. Seeing this scene, the two rxed their minds, thinking that the situation was settled, but then what happened made them feel the urgency again.

    Even if they were still half a mile away, Draco could feel that the boat that made the waves roll and came rushing was carrying an unstoppable determination. He could sense Potter''s anger and defiance, and he knew that he wouldn''t give up easily. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead, and he cursed under his breath.

    "Speed up, Pansy!" Draco shouted at Pansy, urging her to use up the little magic they had left. He pushed the half-sphere to the maximum, and he felt the boat elerate. He hoped that it would be enough to outrun Potter and his sidekick.

    "But Draco¨C" Pansy Parkinson''s sharp and mean face was gentle enough to be called ''My-Lady'' when facing Draco. She shook off the bangs that were wet by the sweat and covered her eyes. Her two hands were slightly twitching, but she bit her lip to stifle a cry of pain. She had used a lot of magic, and she was feeling exhausted. She turned her head and looked at the fork.

    "Which way should we go?" She asked, hoping that Draco would make the right decision.

    The two forks were covered by a faint mist. There were about five or six flickering orange lights in the mist on the left, and only one on the right.

    This was obviously unreasonable. Clear-minded people should immediately recognize that there was something wrong. The left fork had too many lights, and the right fork had too few.

    But when his eyes fell on the orange light in the mist on the right, which was a bit brighter, Draco''s breath stopped for a moment. He felt a strange attraction to the light, as if it was calling him.

    The world turned into a blur of light and shadow in his eyes. Draco felt his head dizzy. He realized something was wrong. He instinctively wanted to turn the rudder to the left, but it seemed that there was a mysterious force controlling his body and recing his choice. He tried to resist, but it was toote. After making a silent whimper, Draco''s face was dull. His eyes were zed, and his mouth was ck. His body shook violently, and he hit the rudder to the right. And then, he rushed into the cloud wall without a sound.

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0202 The Final Winner (Part-3)

    0202 The Final Winner (Part-3)

    Malfoy and Parkinson rushed into the right track, probably hoping to find the shortest way to the finish line.

    But seeing this scene, Harry felt a doubt gnawing at his heart. He nced at Neville, who was soaked with sweat on his back but still persisted. He couldn''t help but pity him.

    "Neville, Bulstrode and Greengrass have been left behind. Let me take over, My magic has almost recovered!"

    Harry offered, feeling his magic returning to his body.

    "No, I can still hold on. We''re almost there." Neville wiped his dripping face, gasping for breath, and refused Harry''s request.

    Finally, with Neville''s desperate efforts, twenty seconds after Malfoy''s boat disappeared from everyone''s sight, Gryffindor''s boat was finally about to reach the intersection of the ''Y'' shaped track. Across a few dozen feet, Harry could vaguely see the difference between the two sides. The right track was shrouded in thick fog, while the left track flickered with several orange lights.

    As the current top two rivals of each other in Hogwarts, since Malfoy chose the right side, Harry would not hesitate to steer the boat to the left. He was not going to follow Malfoy''s lead.

    This choice was not purely out of spite. Harry had a logical reason for it.

    Harry thought, if the right track led to the finish line, then Malfoy, who made the right choice first, would undoubtedly win. Even if they followed behind and finished the whole course, they would still not escape being mocked by Malfoy and cleaning the owl shed as a punishment. So, it was better to bet that Malfoy chose the wrong side, and the left track was the one that led to the finish line. Maybe the orange lights were a sign of victory.

    Harry thought so. He clenched his teeth, his eyes fixed on the left track that seemed more inviting than the foggy one. And just as he was about to take action, the right track that was hidden behind the fog made a loud noise.

    <strong>BOOM! --------CRASH! --------SPLASH!</strong>

    A loud crisp sound made Harry''s hand shake violently. The oak boat swayed, and Neville, who was startled by the strange noise, also shuddered. He unconsciously withdrew his palm, and stood up wobbly. He almost lost his bnce and fell into the water.

    Neville blinked, hesitated for a moment. He nced at the boat behind his feet, which was still intact, then looked into Harry''s eyes. The two people''s eyes crossed in mid-air, and they both understood that they had the same guess as each other. Something had happened to Malfoy''s boat.

    "What''s going on, Harry?" Neville asked nervously. "That sound just now, was it like the boat being smashed?"

    "Help!!!" "Ah, monster!!!"

    Harry didn''t have time to speak, because what he was about to say was interrupted by two screams that almost sounded at the same time, full of panic and fear. They came from the right track, where Malfoy and Parkinson had gone. Then, under the frightened eyes of Harry and Neville, the fog wall on the right track rolled up, revealing a horrifying sight. And then, two vague figures desperately pped the waves towards them, trying to escape from something. Needless to say, it was Malfoy and Parkinson.

    In a short moment, Harry and Neville, who looked at each other, thought of the terrifying scene that appeared in the practical ss of Defense Against the Dark Artsst year. Uncontrobly, Harry subconsciously took out his wand, and had already recited the incantation of the me (<em>Incendio</em>) spell in his mind.

    "Save me, Potter!"

    Malfoy, who was soaked in water, saw the first figure in his eyes as he rushed out of the fog. It was Harry, his nemesis. But when his life was threatened, he threw all the trivial conflicts to the back of his head, and shouted for help. But as soon as he opened his mouth, he gulped a mouthful of murky water. He coughed and spluttered, feeling something pulling his leg.

    "What''s in there, Malfoy? Is it an inferi?" Harry asked, his voice tense. He couldn''t see what was chasing them, but he had a bad feeling about it.

    Although Harry hated the despicable tactics that Slytherin used to win the game, reason also told him to leave immediately. Because a murderous and ferocious silhouette was about toe out of the fog. But seeing Malfoy and Parkinson who were rushing towards them regardless of everything, Harry frowned and felt his feet rooted. And he couldn''t move.

    "It''s not an inferi, Potter. Save! me!"

    Malfoy shouted in horror, his voice hoarse. He was only a few feet away from Harry''s boat, but it felt like a mile. He stretched out his hand, hoping that Harry would pull him up.

    Pansy Parkinson also cried out."It''s a monster. It wants to kill us!"

    Harry instinctively wanted to scold them. But thinking of Professor Watson''s ''wild'' style, he had some belief in their ''nonsense''.

    Just in such a moment of hesitation, the monster in the fog had stepped on the water and emerged from the mist. And at the moment when Harry and Neville saw its clear face, they felt a surge of cold air in their lungs, and their scalps exploded with fear.

    So far, Harry had seen three of the most terrifying monsters in his life: Hagrid''s three-headed dog Fluffy in the first year, Professor Watson''s inferi in the second year, and that dreadful creature called a dementor that he saw on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of the third year. And now, there was one more creature that made him feel afraid.

    The dead and gloomy eyes, the ferocious ws, and the sharp teeth were scary enough, but they did not make Harry feel afraid. He had faced worse things before. What made him fearful was the ck mist that surrounded the creature, the pure malice that radiated from it, the power simr to death that it possessed. It was like a living nightmare, a manifestation of evil.

    <strong>Click! ck!...Click! ck!</strong>

    Harry, whose body was cold and stiff, heard a strange sound. After a brief thought, he understood. It was Neville''s teeth chattering. Neville was trembling like a leaf, his face pale as a ghost.

    The creature had a twisted body, a single leg, and antern in its hand. It was a hinkypunk, one of the many dark creatures that Bryan had brought out from Avalon Ind. It shook its head and spewed out a foul-smelling ck smoke, just like the eight-eyed spider that had been imprisoned under the dormitory floor for several years by Bryan. This hinkypunk, which had lived in a ss bottle for half a year, could not restrain its bloodthirsty desire in its heart. The desire to kill anyone who crossed its path.

    <strong>Ssh</strong>¨C Malfoy and Parkinson climbed onto their boat in a hurry, and the cabin that originally fit two people became extremely crowded after amodating four young wizards. They could only stand side by side with their shoulders touching, their wet clothes sticking to their skin.

    "Are you waiting for that monster to tear us to pieces?" Malfoy roared, his voice cracking with fear and anger. "Hurry up and start the boat!"

    "If you can''t show the gratitude you should, Malfoy,"

    Harry blinked, and suddenly came back to his senses. Facing Malfoy''s almostmanding words, his face turned cold.

    "Then please leave me and Neville¨Couch!" Harry''s words were cut off by a sudden pain in his back. He felt a push, and then he lost his bnce.

    <strong>Ssh, ssh!</strong>

    The world tilted sharply in his vision, until his face made intimate contact with the cold water. Harry and Neville realized what had happened. Pansy Parkinson had pushed them into the water!

    "Start the boat, Malfoy, we know which way is right now!" Pansy crossed to the stern with a grin, and when she passed by Malfoy, who was incredulous and staring at her, she also pushed him lightly towards the bow.

    "Who told you to do that, Pansy?"

    Malfoy opened his mouth, his voice full of disbelief. He looked at Longbottom and Potter, who were struggling to stay afloat in the water. His expression was astonished. He didn''t expect Pansy to do such a thing without his order.

    "Don''t be stunned, Draco¨C" Pansy seemed to have no idea how bad her behavior was. Before her palm touched the ball of sphere, she urged Malfoy to hurry up and steer.

    "That monster will teach Potter and Longbottom a lesson for us. We have to leave quickly, lest we get involved!"

    She said, her voice dripping with malice.

    Malfoy pursed his lips. His astonished eyes faded, and his gray eyes showed fiery anger. He moved his eyes away from Pansy, and looked at Potter, who was helping Longbottom float up in the water. After a brief hesitation, he squatted down, leaned over and reached out his hand.

    Harry and Neville were baffled by his actions.

    ¡®Why was Slytherin acting so strangely? Pansy Parkinson had maliciously shoved them into the water, but Malfoy had offered to help them back onto the boat?¡¯

    "Don''t misunderstand, Potter. I owe you a favor¡­Fr- from Professor Watson''s practical ssst time!" Malfoy said with a red face, facing Harry''s puzzled expression.

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0203 The Final Winner (Part-4)

    0203 The Final Winner (Part-4)

    <em>''Favour from Professor Watson''s Practical ss Last Year''</em>

    Harry helped Neville up in a hurry and struggled to free his feet from the sticky mud that clung to his shoes. He had already drawn his wand and was ready to strike first, since Pansy Parkinson had done such a ''dishonourable'' and despicable act of pushing them into the swamp. Harry thought he didn''t have to follow Professor Watson''s rules anymore.

    But Malfoy, who was lying on the side of the boat and reaching out his hand, made Harry a little confused. He stayed in ce for two or three seconds, before he figured out what Malfoy was talking about. His expression turned weird. He couldn''t believe what he was seeing. Malfoy was actually a person with a conscience and gratitude. How ridiculous was that?!

    "Are you crazy, Draco?" Seeing this scene, Pansy widened her incredulous eyes and screamed, "That''s Potter, are you scared out of your wits?!"

    She couldn''t understand why Draco would offer to help their enemy.

    "Shut up, Pansy, you don''t need to teach me what to do!"

    Draco turned his head and red at Pansy, then looked at Harry. His tone was very annoyed. He hated to admit that he owed Harry a favor for saving him from the inferi.

    "Hurry up, Potter, get on the boat while I haven''t changed my mind!"

    He snapped, hoping that Harry would take his hand and end this awkward situation. Harry was doubtful. He didn''t dare to believe that Malfoy was really kind. He wondered if this was a trap or a trick. But the Hinkypunk that came out of the fog wouldn''t wait for them to sort things out. In silence, it had already crept up behind Harry and Neville, twenty feet away.

    <strong>Swoosh!</strong>

    On the ind of Avalon, among a group of powerful undead creatures, the Hinkypunk could only be reduced to a bait for deception. It lured unsuspecting victims with itsntern and then devoured them. But in the outside world, it was a real dangerous creature that was corrupted by dark magic.

    On the river channel filled with thin mist, the Hinkypunk, which walked on the water with a strong single leg, let out a mournful scream. It was a signal for its prey to panic and run. Then, its body that was rolling with ck smoke suddenly disappeared. When it appeared again, it had raised its five-inch ws and lunged at Harry! It aimed for his neck, hoping to rip his throat open.

    The wind hadn''t risen, but Harry had already felt a chill rising from his spine. It swam to the back of his head in an instant. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead, and his heart skipped a beat..

    Time seemed to slow down at this moment. Harry saw Malfoy''s face twisted by fear, close at hand. He saw Pansy, who was holding the helm, slowly loosening the wheel and pouncing on the power device at the stern.

    At the door of the ssroom, the young wizards who were caught off guard by the sudden changes were stunned. Hermione unconsciously pinched Ron''s arm. Her pure yellow pupils showed despair. And Ron, whose arm had been pinched purple, also forgot to cry out in pain. He opened his mouth and saw the tragedy happening, but had no time to react.

    Bryan raised his eyebrows, ready to activate the restriction magic that he had engraved on the Hinkypunk''s body, But the next thing that happened made Bryan''s raised fingers slow down. He decided to watch the situation first. He was impressed and surprised.

    "Watch out, Harry!"

    At the critical moment, it was Neville, who was clumsy, who reacted first. He shouted loudly and suddenly pushed Harry into the water.

    Malfoy, who retreated instinctively, fell into the cabin. He hit his head on the wooden floor, and felt a sharp pain. He cursed and groaned. He was confused and regretful. And Pansy, who pounced on the stern, pressed one hand on the power device and took out her wand with the other hand. She controlled the helm to move. Ignoring Malfoy''s shouting, the boat turned swiftly and sped towards the left track.

    The ws swept across Neville''s back, and a few silk threads floated in the air. They were the shreds of his robe, stained with blood. The air was filled with indescribable depression. It was a moment of horror and sorrow.

    "Neville!"

    Harry, who was pushed into the water, bounced up as soon as he touched the bottom. He let out a scream. His left hand wrapped around Neville''s neck and dragged him back. His right hand swung out his wand, and the red light of the disarming curse immediately shot towards the Hinkypunk''s ws that came over again. He fought back with all his strength, hoping to drive it away. But this Hinkypunk was so agile that it It dodged Harry''s disarming curse in the nick of time and appeared in another direction in the blink of an eye. It was cunning and relentless.

    "I''m fine, Harry."

    Neville, who was soaked all over, staggered up. His face was covered with water droplets, and he couldn''t tell which ones were swamp water and which ones were sweat. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine, and his teeth chattered. He touched his back, and when he found that he was not injured, he said in a shocked tone.

    "I am all right?"

    He couldn''t believe that he had survived the Hinkypunk''s attack. Harry gasped and looked at Malfoy and Pansy who had escaped. His eyes were filled with anger.

    <em>''Sure enough, these despicable Slytherins were not trustworthy!</em>''

    "What should we do now, Harry? Will Professor Watsone to save us?"

    Neville also pulled out his wand in a panic, but the thin stick in his hand couldn''t give him much sense of security. He felt helpless and scared. He wished that someone woulde and rescue them from this nightmare.

    "I don''t know, Neville¨C"

    Harry''s eyes pierced through the foggy track, and vaguely saw Professor Watson standing on the bank of the river.

    "I think Professor Watson definitely won''t sit idly by and watch his monster kill people in front of him, but he probably won''t make a move until we suffer a bit."

    Harry had to say that he had a clear understanding of Bryan, and his teaching philosophy of Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was to restore the real dangerous situation as much as possible, and force the young wizards to improve themselves on the line of life and death.

    Anyway, it was very difficult to fight against such a flexible monster in the water. Harry used the freezing curse again¨Cit was Hermione who taught him this spell. Last year, Hermione used this spell to deal with the Cornish pixies that Gilderoy Lockhart released in the ssroom. Harry remembered how Hermione had saved them from the chaos, and wished that she was here with them. He missed her intelligence and courage.

    Harry and Neville helped each other climb onto the ice, facing the smoky monster who was plotting how to tear them apart. Both of them were wondering what kind of spells they were good at that could deal with it. They knew that they had to act fast, or they would be doomed.

    <em><strong>"Expelliarmus!"</strong></em>

    Harry shouted, hoping to disarm the Hinkypunk and make it drop its ws. This dark creature put them under too much pressure. Harry, who didn''t know how to lure the enemy and feint, directly threw out the strongest attack spell he had. He was desperate and reckless.

    The dazzling red light illuminated the gloomy room. It looked very powerful, but as expected, it missed its target. The Hinkypunk was too quick and agile, and it dodged the spell with ease. The spell hit the water, and the water sshed with a bang. They were soaked again and felt cold and miserable.

    <strong><em>"Petrificus Totalus!"</em></strong>

    Neville yelled, hoping to petrify the Hinkypunk and make it stop moving. The petrification curse was probably the only attack spell that Neville could use. And the person who taught him this spell was also Hermione. As for the process of learning this spell, there was nothing faster than personal experience.

    To be honest, for the young wizards,pared to the Inferi, this Hinkypunk that was tainted by the dark was much harder to deal with.

    The Inferi, which were scarce in number, brought people a sense of threat mainly because they were corpses. They looked horrifying and disgusting, and they made people shudder. If you could get rid of the fear of them, the Inferi were actually just a monster with great strength but very slow movements. A first-year wizard could use the fire spell they had mastered to deal with them. And besides biting, the Inferi had no special attack methods. They were simple and predictable.

    But this Hinkypunk was not the same. It had a certain intelligence, and its agility in dodging movements far exceeded the limit of the wizards. It could disappear and reappear in an instant, and it could attack from any direction. Harry and Neville, who didn''t know how to cooperate, their spells couldn''t hit it at all.

    <strong>BANG!</strong>

    Another empty spell stirred up the water. Neville, who had been following the ghostly Hinkypunk with his eyes, slipped under his feet and fell on his butt on the wet and slippery ice. He cried out in pain.

    Harry, who was panting, saw this, and quickly bent down to help Neville. He reached out his hand, and tried to pull Neville up. But this was undoubtedly a very wrong decision. The Hinkypunk, who had been waiting for an opportunity, stomped on the water with a single leg, like an arrow off the string. And it appeared behind Harry again, opening its ferocious mouth and aiming at Harry''s neck.

    "Watch out, Harry!"

    Neville, who had exhausted his physical and magical strength, screamed loudly and suddenly pulled Harry to the side. Before he could retract his hand, the monster''s ws scratched his arm. The drops of blood sshed in the air, and the intense pain made Neville''s round face twist.

    Bryan, who was far away on the bank, frowned. He saw the whole scene, and he was not impressed. He nced at Malfoy and Pansy, who had rushed too fast and fallen into another river. Then he looked at Potter and Longbottom, who had been tortured to exhaustion. He sighed helplessly, and the next second, he lifted his right foot in the air, ready to bring these people back. But just then, Neville, who had injured his arm, roared. And under Bryan''s surprised eyes, he suddenly hugged the Hinkypunk''s sturdy leg and flipped it over!

    "Quick, Harry-!"

    Neville turned over and pressed on the Hinkypunk''s back, using all his strength to press the monster''s hideous head against the ice, not letting it move. He had seized the opportunity, and created a chance for Harry. His arm wound was still bleeding, but he ignored it. Even though the curls of ck smoke made him dizzy, he did not let go. He endured the difort, and held on to his grip as he shouted anxiously at Harry.

    "Harry, while it''s still stunned, use your strongest spell to finish it off!"

    Harry was stunned by Neville''s sudden burst of courage, but he quickly realized that this was a rare opportunity. To make sure that his spell didn''t miss, he rolled and crawled. He moved closer to the target, and reduced the distance. And like he did in his first year against the troll, Harry shoved his wand into the Hinkypunk''s narrow nostril!

    <strong>ROAR!</strong>

    The Hinkypunk screamed in pain, and its violent struggle threw Neville off its back. But Harry, who was about to deliver the final blow, didn''t waste this chance. He followed Neville''s advice, and he was ready to end this fight. In an instant, many spells shed through his mind. And then Professor Watson''s instruction jumped into his brain. He took a deep breath, and Harry shouted,

    <em><strong>"Incendio!"</strong></em>

    There was no word to describe the brilliance of that moment. The violent explosion was swallowed by a ck hole that suddenly appeared. But the roar and shock wave that followed knocked Harry out.

    "You two¨C"

    Bryan appeared behind Harry in an instant and lifted him up. He looked at Harry''s face ckened by the explosion, and Neville, who was floating on the water with his eyes rolled back. Bryanshook his head and muttered with a frown,

    "You just can''t resist a fistfight, can you?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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 0204 Aftermath

    0204 Aftermath

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    A silver snake of lightning shed through the sky, tearing apart the darkness that enveloped the world. The wind howled like a wild beast and the waves roared like thunder, mming against the cliff with enormous and furious force. The earth shook, and even the Hogwarts castle, standing on the high cliff, trembled slightly. The windows rattled, the portraits swayed, and the candles flickered.

    At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid hugged his little red umbre in his arms and rushed into the dark woods. He had to help the creatures that lived there, from the centaurs to the unicorns to Aragog''s n. The terrible weather might endanger them all. He hoped that none of them had been struck by lightning or crushed by falling trees.

    "Oh, This is dreadful, I haven''t seen such a storm in years!"

    In the castle hall, Professor Sprout held her ragged hat tightly and ran into the thunderstorm. She had to protect her greenhouse from the wind and the waves. Her precious nts could not withstand such a violent attack. She knew that some of them were very sensitive to temperature and humidity, and could not survive the harsh conditions outside.

    The world was gloomy and stormy, but Hogwarts castle was still standing.

    Thanks to Professor Watson''s excellent performance, the hospital wing was once again full of patients.

    "I don''t remember when I offended you, Bryan!"

    Madam Pomfrey snapped as she smeared some white paste on Ron''s back. She then hurried to the girl''s area, separated by curtains. On the way, she saw Bryan wandering around, his smile betraying his guilt. She red at him and said.

    "Don''t be too serious, madam¨C"

    Bryan scratched the back of his head and said awkwardly. He wanted to exin his actions, but Madam Pomfrey had no time to chat. She lifted the curtain and went straight into the girl''s area.

    Oliver Wood, who got the news, stood in front of Harry''s bed. Harry had woken up, but his face was wrapped in white gauze. Wood looked at him with despair and pleaded with Bryan,

    "Is there any possibility, professor?"

    Wood turned his face and asked, "Since Malfoy can use his arm as an excuse, professor, is there any possibility that the Gryffindor team can also change the time of the match?"

    "Woo!" Harry couldn''t speak because of the gauze, and could only nod desperately.

    "Oh, sorry, Mr. Wood¨C" Bryan pursed his lips and said regretfully, "You have to ask Professor McGonagall, I don''t have the final say."

    He was not in charge of the Quidditch schedule, and he did not want to interfere with the other professor''s decisions.

    Looking at the innocent faced Professor Watson, to be honest, for a moment, Harry, who was ''tearful'', even thought that Professor Watson was deliberately making trouble before the Quidditch match!

    <strong>Tuk-Tuk-Tuk...</strong>

    "Tell me, Bryan!"

    The crisp and urgent footsteps overwhelmed the young wizards who were blocked outside the hospital wing. They had no sses in the afternoon and couldn''t go out to have fun because of the heavy rain, so they came to the hospital wing to watch the ''fun''. The students in the crowd automatically separated, and Professor McGonagall walked in quickly. When she identified who the ''white head'' was, her lips thinned into a tight line and her eyes shed with anger as she red at Bryan with a piercing gaze,

    "How much did Severus give you, to make you harm Gryffindor''s seeker!"

    <em><strong>Cough cough!</strong></em>

    <em>''How did you know about our private deal, Professor McGonagall?''</em>

    Bryan thought to himself, but he did not dare to say it out loud. He knew that Professor McGonagall was very protective of her students, especially Harry.

    "Don''t worry, professor¨C" Bryan exined, his smile fading. "Most of the young wizards just suffered some minor injuries, they just need to apply some Aloe-vera gel and take a hot water bath, and they will be able to bounce around. It''s just that Mr. Longbottom''s injury is a bit more serious."

    He pointed to Neville, who was lying on a bed next to Harry, with his arm bandaged.

    "Longbottom?" Professor McGonagall immediately looked for him in the crowd, and then gasped when she saw the faint blood stain on the white gauze on Neville''s arm. Neville had taken sleeping pills and fallen asleep.

    She came to Neville''s side in panic and asked, "What happened to this child, Bryan, don''t tell me he fought with that monster you brought again?"

    "That''s the truth¨C" Bryan said with a wry smile, "Mr. Longbottom always seems to think that fists are better than wands when he encounters a crisis¨C"

    Professor McGonagall''s anger and worry subsided after inspecting the situation for a while. As Bryan had said, most of the Slytherin and Gryffindor students only drank some cold swamp water. So to avoid catching a cold, Madam Pomfrey had given them a few sips of her special tonic potions that warmed their bodies and cleared their throats, and sent them back to their dormitories. The hospital wing didn''t have enough beds to amodate them all, so only those who were hit by water arrows, or injured like Neville who had tangled with the hinkypunk, stayed there to rest.

    "Well, since that''s the case¨C" Professor McGonagall''s breathing slowed down and she looked at Wood and Harry with a stern but sympathetic expression.

    "Although I can agree to postpone your match with Hufflepuff, I think Gryffindor students should be brave, Wood. I still hope you can do your best in tomorrow''s match."

    She knew that the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff was very important for the house cup, but she did not want to see her students lose their spirit.

    At Hogwarts, the great Albus Dumbledore''s appearance was an indicator of whether something was serious or not.

    Since Bryan hadn''t caused a big mess, and there were still a lot of things to deal with, Professor McGonagall left with a sullen face. Bryan told her that, In the race Gryffindor had defeated Slytherin in the final round, and won the victory in his ''practical'' ss, and got a reward of thirty points which didn''t make Professor McGonagall feel much better.

    "Then, please rest well here¨C"

    Bryan rubbed his stomach that had already protested. He hadn''t eaten lunch to amodate these young wizards. He smiled and continued,

    "Professor Lupin is not feeling well. I have to go back to the office to take care of him¨C"

    He smiled happily, ignoring the ''angry but dare not speak'' ''re'' of the young wizards who med him for their misfortune.

    Suddenly, he saw a head sticking out from behind the curtain of the girls'' ward. It looked hesitantly at his side. Bryan raised his eyebrows and turned his head. He saw Harry, who knew nothing, and Ron, who had already noticed but pretended to be stupid.

    "Still quarreling?" He walked to Ron''s bed and said gently, after thinking for a while.

    "Oh, you know, professor¨C" Ron''s tone was calmer than before, but he was still full of resentment when he mentioned it.

    "It was clearly that her cat killed Scabbers, but she never came to apologize!"

    Ron''s rat had died in a strange way. Bryan didn''t think it was the smart big ginger cat that had killed Scabbers. On the night of the Halloween dinner, Bryan had sensed that Crookshanks had appeared in the Shrieking Shack for a while. Considering the distance between Hogwarts and the Shrieking Shack and the time of the dinner, it shouldn''t have had enough time tomit the crime. But Bryan didn''t bother to clear the cat''s innocence.

    He smiled slightly and said, after listening to Ron''s grumblingint,

    "Ron, life is a one-way road. You can''t go back and undo what you said or did. I''ve seen many people suffer from regret and pain for a long time because of their impulsive actions. I don''t want you three to make the same mistakes."

    He saw Ron blink and seem to realize something. Bryan pursed his lips and walked out of the hospital wing leisurely.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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 0205 Chill

    0205 Chill

    The opening match of the annual Quidditchpetition was about to begin, but the weather was still dreadful. Dark,yered clouds shed with frightening lightning from time to time, and the rain poured down like a waterfall, soaking the ground and creating puddles. However, the wind was much weaker than yesterday, which was a relief. If it was as strong as before, even Hagrid, the half-giant gamekeeper, riding a flying broom would be blown into the ck Lake.

    Despite the storm, the young wizards from the four houses - Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenw, and Hufflepuff - gathered together in groups of twos and threes, holding umbres, and rushing to the stadium against the wind. They wanted to grab a good position to watch the game, between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Their heated discussions about the yers, the tactics, and the odds almost drowned out the howling wind and rain.

    Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor team, was anxious all night. He got up early and went to the hospital wing to check on Harry, who had an ''ident'' in the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss yesterday. He also brought him some porridge and sausage for breakfast, but he couldn''t eat a bite himself. He was too nervous about the game, which could determine the fate of the Quidditch Cup.

    When Wood walked into the hospital wing, He was relieved to see Harry, who was already wearing a bright red uniform and moving his limbs.

    "I was thinkingst night," Wood handed Harry the breakfast and said, "If you can''t y today, I''ll rush into Professor Watson''s office and hex him."

    Harry had finally defeated Slytherin yesterday, and he was in a good mood. He smiled and said,

    "Wood, don''t be silly. Even if you drag us all up, Professor Watson will alone beat us. I wonder if he will go to watch our game."

    "I hope he doesn''t." Wood said sullenly. "I''ve found out that no good things will happen wherever he appears."

    In fact, Bryan, had no intention of watching the game. He had been in the Wizarding world for so long, but he didn''t have much interest in this sport that was popr throughout the Wizarding world. It was not because he was not good at flying brooms. In fact, Bryan, who had been traveling around for years, could fly a broom faster than anyone else in his team. During the mission, if the journey was far, he would usually use flying brooms and apparition alternately on the road.

    <strong>Squeak</strong>¨C Bryan pushed open the door of his office and stopped at the door. He nced at the wall where the crowds were gathering outside the castle, and after finding nothing unusual, he walked slowly to the camp bed in the room. He looked at Remus, who was lying on the bed, pale and sickly.. He curled his lips and put the te with sausage and bread on the floor under the edge of the bed and said,

    "Here, have breakfast."

    "Bryan¨C" Looking at the mischievous Bryan, Remus smiled weakly. "I ate on the ground yesterday because I was a werewolf then, but that doesn''t mean I like to do that."

    "Oh!" Bryan scratched his head pretending to realize. "Sorry, I forgot about that!"

    <em>''I believe you!''</em>

    Remus struggled to sit up and trembled his drooping eyelids. He knew that Bryan was Snape''s proud student, and he must know some of the past grudges between them. That''s why he was not surprised that Bryan liked to tease him from time to time.

    After making a light-hearted joke, Bryan looked at Remus with sympathy. Remus was as frail as a candle in the wind, a victim of a cruel fate that turned him into a werewolf against his will.

    In the previous chat, Bryan learned that over the years, every full moon night, in order not to hurt others, Remus would find a deserted wilderness, set up spells to prevent idental intrusion and limit his own actions, and secretly transform into a werewolf.

    But in that situation, Remus, who lost his reason and could not suppress his attack desire, had to bite himself. Hecked galleons, to buy healing potions, and his injuries recovered very slowly. When he finally healed, he would wee another full moon. After entering Hogwarts again, Remus finally got to drink the wolfsbane potion, which was hailed as the werewolf''s gospel. But to be honest, this potion was not a good thing either.

    Bryan was not a master of potions, but he had a good grasp of the basics. He had more talent and interest in curses, which he studied avidly. He had once researched the wolfsbane potion, which was a rare and ingenious invention by the few remaining potion masters in the magical world. The potion worked on werewolves by fighting poison with poison, using another kind of opposing poison to suppress the wolfsbane that was raging in the werewolf''s body due to the special magic tide caused by the full moon. The potion reduced the werewolf''s aggression and allowed them to retain some of their human mind.

    The potion did not cure lycanthropy, but rather eased the condition''s psychological symptoms, allowing one to hold on to their mental faculties after transformation and thus retain their human consciousness whilst in animalistic physical form.

    However, the potion also had a serious drawback. Wolfsbane was a kind of magical virus, which was entangled with the individual''s magic. The wolfsbane potion would not only poison the carrier''s physical health, but also consume the carrier''s magic.

    Drinking the wolfsbane potion, the werewolf would fall into weakness after the full moon period. In other words, drinking too much of this potion would shorten one''s life.

    "Speaking of which¨C" Lupin said, after eating breakfast. He supported his sick body to the window, but he didn''t dare to open it. He was afraid of the wind and rain. He listened carefully through a piece of blurred ss. The Quidditch stadium was full of ups and downs of calls, which stirred his buried memory. Unconsciously, he thought of his old friend who was praised as a Quidditch genius. He recalled the carefree happy times in school, and a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

    "Even Professor Dumbledore came out of his office to watch the game. Why don''t you¨C"

    "I''m only interested in things that can improve my strength."

    Bryan replied calmly. He was sitting at his desk, working on the theoretical research of the curses. He had a pile of books and scrolls on his desk, and his quill was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. He looked like he waspletely absorbed in his work, and nothing else mattered to him.

    "You''re too harsh on yourself, Bryan." Lupin leaned against the cold ss, facing the frowning Bryan who was immersed in the world of knowledge and not moved by external things, He felt a bit of admiration for him. Bryan had that level of strength at his early twenties that even Dumbledore praised. Talent alone could not exin everything.

    The dry wood in the scorching firece made a crackling explosion. The mes cast a warm glow on the room, but they could not dispel the chill that lingered in the air.

    Lupin was a little afraid of the cold. He slowly moved to the window sill in front of the firece. He listened to the rising and falling calls outside the window. He looked at the front page of thetest issue of the Daily Prophet. The impassioned Minister of Magic was telling everyone how ''amazing'' achievements they had made in capturing ck.

    The headline read: "<strong>BLACK CORNERED AT LAST!</strong>" and there was arge photo of a group of Aurors surrounding a dark figure in a hooded cloak.

    Lupin''s face sank as he thought of Sirius ck, who had entered Hogwarts in a mysterious way not long ago. He turned his back to Bryan and faced the window, looking in an unknown direction. He clenched his fists and bit his lip, trying to suppress the turmoil in his heart.

    <em>''How did ck get into Hogwarts?''</em>

    Everyone in Hogwarts, including Albus Dumbledore and Bryan Watson, who was immersed in magical research behind him, were guessing about this. They wondered if ck had used some secret passage, or some dark artifact to bypass the security measures of the castle.

    Lupin pretended to be as puzzled as everyone else, but deep in his heart he had a vague guess. He knew that the guess was close to the truth, but he couldn''t face the answer, nor had the courage to say it. The answer meant that he had betrayed Albus''s trust.

    "It may not be the case," Lupin murmured in a voice that only he could hear. His face was as bad as the weather outside. "Maybe he learned a few tricks from Voldemort."

    Perhaps he was too weak after the transformation. The cold air from the window crack made Lupin shiver. He backed away a few steps and walked to the hearth. He put his cold hands near the firece, but it seemed to be of no use. The bone-eating cold still prated everywhere, making Lupin vaguely feel a sense of despair. He wrapped his cloak around him, but it felt like a thin sheet of paper.

    A trace of white frost spread from the window crack like the stimted devil''s web tentacles. The dark magic raged in the room. Lupin could feel it pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

    At some point, Bryan, who was deeply engrossed in his desk, had raised his head. He nced at Lupin, who was leaning on the firece with a pale face and shaking. His light purple eyes showed anger.

    "You dare toe here? Are you tired of living?"

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    Dear Readers,

    Merry Christmas to you all!

    I hope this festive season brings you joy, peace, and happiness.

    I want to thank you for your support and encouragement throughout the year.

    I appreciate your feedback, reviews, and suggestions.

    Stay safe and healthy.

    Your Author

 0206 What is that?

    0206 What is that?

    Harry had never yed Quidditch in such dangerous weather before. The sky was a dark gray, and the air was heavy with mist. The gale hurled icy droplets that stung his cheeks like tiny bullets. The dark sky was asionally lit up by terrifying sts of lightning, and nothing seemed to exist between sky and earth except wind, rain, thunder and lightning. Harry felt like a small boat struggling in the boiling sea under the typhoon, ready to capsize at any moment. He could barely see the other yers or the hoops, and he had to rely on his instincts and reflexes to avoid collisions and injuries.

    Tightening his grip on the frozen handle of his broom, he quickly pulled it up to dodge the iing bludger that was aiming for his head. He heard a loud ng as the iron ball hit the tail of his broom, sending a jolt of pain through his spine.

    "Sorry, Harry!"

    The Weasley twin''s apology reached his ears through the raging wind, but he had no time to reply. He was too busy trying to keep his bnce and his eyes open. He squinted through the rain and saw a sh of yellow. Cedric Diggory, the captain of Hufflepuff, broke through the rain curtain and whistled past him. He was flying on a sleek and shiny broom that looked much faster and smoother than Harry''s.

    "It''s not easy, is it!"

    Cedric shed a friendly smile at Harry as he flew past him and headed to the back. He seemed to enjoy the challenge of the weather, and his face was glowing with excitement and determination.

    "If we both can''t catch the snitch, this game mightst until midnight!" he called out over his shoulder, his voice barely audible over the thunder.

    "If Wood agrees with you!" Harry shouted back, but Cedric had already flown far away, and didn''t hear him clearly.

    However, the poor visibility and the howling storm made the game very unwatchable. The dim sky dyed the robes of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff yers gray, and most of the students crowded on the stands couldn''t tell which house the yers in the sky belonged to, but that didn''t stop them from cheering and shouting. That was the charm of Quidditch.

    Influenced by this cheerful atmosphere, Dumbledore, who rarely went out, was always smiling in the center of the stands. He didn''t mind getting wet with the students, and gave more space under the umbres to Professor McGonagall, who kept making nervous calls.

    "Harry!" Suddenly, Wood, who was guarding the Gryffindor goal, caught everyone''s attention. He had spotted something that no one else had seen. At his reminder, everyone looked up and saw a faint golden sh in the middle of Harry and Cedric. The enthusiastic atmosphere reached its peak, and the sudden burst of shouts shifted the nting rain. In the next few moments, a lot of things happened.

    Neville, who only had one hand to bnce, was knocked off his wand by Hermione, who suddenly stood up. She jumped up from her seat, and screamed Harry''s name, but in doing so, she identally hit Neville''s wand, which flew out of his hand andnded on the ground. Neville, who was already nervous and clumsy, lost his bnce and fell off the bench,nding on top of a group of Hufflepuff students, who were not very pleased.

    Professor McGonagall, whose heart jumped to her throat, grabbed Dumbledore''s right hand in a panic. She clutched his hand tightly, as if to convey her fear and urgency.

    At the top of the stands, a ck dog curled up behind a wooden pir under the roof suddenly stood up. It seemed to want to escape, but the fear that was almost bound to its soul made its limbs tremble. It identally fell from the high tform into the muddy ground. He wanted to run away, but he was paralyzed by fear. He lost his bnce and fell, and he felt a sharp pain in his ribs.

    The pain from his internal organs made him slightly get rid of the stiffness. He didn''t hesitate to step forward and try to escape, but before that, he saw a small ck shadow floating not far from him.

    Silence fell over the world, and a mass of dark ink spewed from the big iron gate at the school gate at an astonishing speed, staining the world with rainwater. The bone-chilling cold crept silently. Time seemed to stop, and in the blink of an eye, the happy expressions on the faces of the students froze, and they watched Harry''s body fall weakly from the air. Ron and Hermione''s eyes showed despair.

    Dumbledore''s deep blue pupils showed icy anger. He weighed the priorities of driving away the dementors and saving Harry in his mind, and made a decision in an instant. He shook his right hand, trying to pop out the wand in his sleeve, but when he did, he found that his arm was firmly pinched by Professor McGonagall and couldn''t move. She was still holding his hand, and she was too scared and shocked to let go.

    A trace of helplessness shed in Dumbledore''s eyes. In the nick of time, he stretched out his left hand and pointed his slender index finger at Harry. He muttered a word under his breath, and Harry quickly slowed down his falling speed.

    And when he was about to take back his right hand and drive away the dementors that were trying to get close to Harry, a surge of magma-like magic made Dumbledore''s body pause, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    The roar of Bryan blowing open the windows of his office was the only sound in this silent world. The sudden burst of magic made the rain curtain sway, and a white light like a wave exploded from the office door and window, and rolled over after expanding. The countless raindrops that solidified in the air were instantly cleared, and the world was clear! The mist and the darkness were dispelled, and the Quidditch pitch was revealed in all its glory.

    Gazing at the dozens of dementors hovering in the air, Bryan''s expression was calm, but his eyes were like electrifying. He was not afraid of these foul creatures, and he was not intimidated by their numbers. He lifted his robe, stepped out of the sted window, and turned into a shadow, crossing a mile in an instant, and standing on the tall hoop of the Quidditch pitch!

    <strong>RUMBLE------------CRACK!</strong>

    A blue-purple lightning tore through the sky and struck the muddy ground. In the dark world, the dazzling thunder light illuminated Bryan''s stern side face. This scene would be unforgettable for all the teachers and students present!

    "What is Professor Watson trying to do?!" The Hufflepuff yers, who were still floating in the air with a bewildered look, asked each other. Meanwhile, the Gryffindor yers, the Weasley twins, had rushed to the ground to check on Harry. In the distance, Hermione and Ron, who were running to the pitch, also stopped their steps. They looked up at Professor Watson, who stood above, like a god of thunder. They were shocked and confused, and they couldn''t suppress the questions in their hearts.

    "Send them back to where they belong, Bryan." On the stands, Dumbledore, who was also angry, said in a loud voice amplified by magic.

    Bryan nodded slightly, he raised his head, and looked coldly at the dozens of dementors who were like shadows of grim reapers and reluctant to leave. He raised his wand and exploded at the tip, as if opening a dam, a silver torrent of water rushed out like a raging river, and in a moment, in the dim world, a bright moon rose slowly,

    <em>Plop¡ª¡ª</em>

    "What is that-"

    Looking at the huge silver body that filled the sky, like a winding mountain range, surrounding the entire Quidditch pitch, Fred''s hand went limp, and he threw his broom into the mud and muttered to himself,

    "What the Hell is that." He was stunned, speechless, and scared.

    <em>Plop¨C</em> Hermione''s weak legs could no longer support her body, she knelt in the mud, her body trembling with fear. Ron beside her wanted to give her some help, but his trembling legs made him unable to bend down.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong> The giant snake pped its white wings, sprinkling billions of silver silk mist on the ground, freeing the students from the influence of the dementors, but it didn''t make the atmosphere cheerful again.

    After Bryan''s patronus appeared, the Quidditch pitch fell into a moreplete depression. Every student who looked at the towering figure felt that they couldn''t look directly at it, and the pressure from the soul made everyone on the verge of copse!

    "How-" Snape whispered in a raspy voice from the stands, staring at the creature in disbelief, "-Did it get so big?"

    "Have you seen Bryan''s patronus, Severus?" Dumbledore, who also felt a slight pressure, withdrew his solemn gaze and asked solemnly.

    Snape''s lips moved, and under Dumbledore''s pressure, he hesitated and said, "I gave him some guidance when he was learning the patronus charm, but¡­ At that time, this creature looked normal."

    "What on earth is this, Albus?" Professor McGonagall gasped, clutching her chest in shock, "Patronus, is that a Patronus?"

    "It''s a- a snake? ....The Feathered Serpent - Quetzalcoatl?, professor, a rare magical beast that went extinct ages ago, from the time of the ancient wizards!" Hagrid eximed, his voice trembling as he exined to everyone.

    And above the hoop, Bryan, who had conjured such a remarkable patronus, also frowned. . .

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 0207 Weird Things

    0207 Weird Things

    "The Feathered Serpent-" Professor McGonagall gasped as if someone had choked her throat with a cold hand. She said breathlessly, "A rare magical creature as a Patronus, Albus! I have never seen another besides yours!" Her eyes were wide with astonishment and awe, as she stared at the enormous thing that filled the sky above them.

    "It is indeed very rare," Dumbledore replied, gazing at the sky-covering White-Winged Snake with a frown of curiosity and concern. "-But not unique. In fact, what surprises me is that this Patronus''s size has never been recorded. I am amazed that the wizard''s Patronus can have such a huge size." He stroked his long beard, as if trying to recall some ancient lore or legend.

    "Could it be rted to our own magic, Albus?" Professor Flitwick squeaked out his opinion, his eyes wide with excitement and wonder. He was always fascinated by the mysteries of spells and charms, and this was a sight he had never witnessed before. "Maybe, the wizard has a special affinity with this creature, or a powerful bond with his wand?"

    "I''m afraid not," Dumbledore said solemnly, shaking his head. "We all know that the Patronus Charm is the only spell that wizards can master to counter the Dementors, the indestructible evil creatures. Its poweres from the most positive emotions in our hearts. In other words, this spell''s poweres from our souls." He looked at the young wizard who had cast the spell, standing above the high hoops, surrounded by a silvery glow, and muttered softly, "So, the question is, what kind of soul does he have?"

    "So Bryan has a particrly strong soul power?" Flitwick asked eagerly, leaning forward in his seat. When it came to the field of spells, he was always passionate and eager to learn more.

    But this time, Dumbledore did not give his answer. From his serious expression, he seemed to disagree with this view.

    As Dumbledore and several heads discussed this Unique Patronus, Bryan above the pitch was also plunged into an unprecedented shock.

    Yes, that''s right. He did intend to summon his own Patronus to drive away the out-of-control Dementors. He had practiced the spell many times, and he knew that his Patronus took the form of a snake, amon and simple animal. But the behemoth in front of him was nothing like he expected. It was a creature of legend, a mythical beast that he had only read about in books.

    Everyone on the Quidditch pitch was puzzled, but not only the wizards. The dim-witted Dementors that floated in the air, shaped like the Grim Reaper, were also filled with confusion. They hovered in front of the huge snake head of the Patronus that came out of the myths, not understanding why they were not afraid of this seemingly very powerful Patronus. Even more strangely, they felt a little bit of affection!

    At this moment, the Winged Snake, which was almost as high as the main building of Hogwarts, pped its white wings on its own. Under Bryan''s condensed gaze, one of the silver-white wings suddenly stained with a touch of ck, like a drop of ink dripping into clear water. In just a few breaths, the wing waspletely ckened. Thus, the Patronus of the giant python-like creature carried two wings, one ck and one white. It was a very strange sight!

    <strong>Hum!</strong> With that ck wing as the center, an invisible wave swept away in an instant. The Dementors that were swept by the energy appeared on the left and right of the ck wing, like bees attracted by the fragrance of flowers.

    "Those Dementors¡­" In the crowd of the young wizards, someone muttered in a trance. They could not believe what they were seeing. They had never seen a Patronus like this, nor a Dementor behave like this.

    "Can Professor Watson control them?" Another voice asked, sounding fearful.

    The crowd became restless. Many people exchanged uneasy nces, feeling terrified by this terrible guess.

    Control the Dementors? If the Wizarding world''s residents voted for the most terrifying creature, then undoubtedly, the ruthless guards of Azkaban, who could drain the wizard''s happy memories and magic, turning the wizards into soulless beasts, the Dementors would win by andslide.

    Just like Parselmouth, the power to control this kind of terrifying creature was probably not something that a decent wizard could have.

    The whispers of the young wizards reached the ears of the teachers in the center of the stands, making their faces look ugly.

    "What do you think, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked seriously, her voice trembling slightly.

    "I don''t see any problem, Minerva!" Before Dumbledore could speak, Snape rudely interrupted the question. He said harshly, "Bryan has a talent for spell modification that is beyond the reach of ordinary wizards. Maybe, he just made some changes to the Patronus Charm!"

    "A reasonable guess, Severus." Dumbledore concealed the astonishment on his old face, regained his calm. His sharp eyes pointed at Bryan standing above the Quidditch hoops. After thinking for a while, he quickly walked down the tform, and came to the pitch below. He decided to talk to Bryan personally and find out the truth behind this mystery.

    <strong>Boom</strong>¨C The ground shook violently, as if an earthquake had struck. In the incredulous eyes of the young wizards, the cracked ground suddenly grew a huge stone pir, as if it had been summoned from the depths of the earth. This pir supported Dumbledore as he rose to the air and came to Bryan''s side.

    Dumbledore had thought that everything was under Bryan''s control, but when he saw Bryan''s solemn expression and his gray hair flying in the wind, he knew that his guess was wrong.

    "Has this happened before, Bryan?" He asked softly, looking into Bryan''s eyes.

    Huge things always gave people an extraordinary sense of shock. Compared to being on the ground, observing this sky-covering Patronus up close, even a wizard like Albus Dumbledore could not help but sway. He took back his gaze from the Winged Snake and focused on Bryan.

    "No, Headmaster Dumbledore," Bryan shook his head. "I have mastered the Patronus Charm for a few years. I used it to deal with the Vampyr Bats in Papua New Guinea before. There was nothing unusual then. It was the size of the normal Patronus that wizards knew well. This is the first time I used it to deal with the Dementors. What do you think of this?"

    For this unprecedented magical phenomenon, Dumbledore did not dare to make a conclusion easily. His deep blue eyes fell on the Winged Snake''s ck wing again. As a ''Magus'', he had a unique perspective beyond anyone else. He could sense the connection between Bryan and his Patronus, and the influence they had on each other. He suppressed the bad thoughts in his heart and still whispered, "It''s hard to say, Bryan. What I''m concerned about is, can you still control your Patronus now?"

    Bryan squinted his eyes and concentrated for a while. He confirmed that he had no problem controlling his Patronus. Then, he nodded slowly. "It''s the same as before."

    Hearing that the Winged-Snake had not lost control, Dumbledore''s face looked a little more rxed. He breathed a sigh of relief, and smiled faintly. If Bryan really lost control of his Patronus, letting this big ''monster'' rampage in Hogwarts, to be honest, Dumbledore really couldn''t find anything in the air that could control it. He doubted that even his own Phoenix Patronus could match the Winged Snake in size and strength without disturbing the environment. He feared that the out of control Winged Snake would cause a lot of damage and chaos, and that it would endanger the lives of the students and teachers.

    "In that case-" Dumbledore nced at the increasingly restless young wizards. The anger caused by the Dementors was unconsciously reced by the worry for Bryan. After a sigh, he said, "Then let it disappear first, Bryan. I''m afraid it will scare the children."

    "Let''s do that for now," Bryan agreed. He flicked his wand, and uttered a word. Although his Patronus couldn''t appear in solid form like Gryffindor''s in reality, but once such a huge creature moved, it would immediately give people a sense of fear that the world would copse.

    Many young wizards screamed and ran away, as the Winged Snake began to shrink. Some timid ones even copsed on the ground and couldn''t move, as if they had been petrified.

    The mountain-like snake body quickly shrank, until it was only a small silver thread. After a dazzling brilliance, the terrifying Winged Snake finally disappeared, leaving behind a trail of silver sparks. And Bryan''s hand also had a ck, icy ss bottle, containing the dark and twisted forms of the Dementors.

    "Every Dementor is registered in the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore said a bit helplessly, seeing this scene. "They won''t let this kind of creature fall into private hands, Bryan."

    "Then let the Minister of Magice to me personally to get it, Dumbledore,"

    Bryan said coldly, his mood sour.

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 0208 Hostility

    0208 Hostility

    No one could have imagined that the Quidditch preliminaries they had been eagerly anticipating for half a year would end in such a shocking and unexpected way. Hufflepuff won the victory, but there was not much joy or celebration on their faces. Gryffindor lost their first match, but they had no energy or spirit to be sad or disappointed. Even Slytherin forgot to mock and ridicule the Gryffindor team that suffered a humiliating defeat. The young wizards of the four houses mostly gathered in their ownmon rooms, discussing the astonishing scene that appeared on the yground with curiosity and fear.

    The young wizards learned from the senior students who were about to graduate that the magic Professor Watson performed was called ''Patronus Charm'', which was a very profound and advanced white magic, specially used to deal with the terrifying Dementors that could suck out one''s happiness and soul.

    "Deal with?" In the cozy and earthy Hufflepuffmon room, Justin Finch-Fletchley chattered to the students around him, his voice full of disbelief,

    "I thought that monster snake was the master of the Dementors!"

    "Don''t say that, Justin¨C"

    Hannah said with a reproachful and gentle tone, "We can''t make the same mistake, can we? Last year, in the dueling ss of that chatan Lockhart, Potter used his Parsel-tongue to stop the snake that Malfoy conjured from attacking you. Today''s situation is simr to that. The professors have already said that Professor Watson just used a modified Patronus Charm to deal with the Dementors, but the spell was not tested in battle, so it looked a bit weird and different."

    "I feel like this is just a way of fobbing us off, Hannah." Justin said stubbornly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

    "But at least¨C" Ernie shrugged his shoulders to express his opinion, "At least after Professor Watson conjured the Patronus, I didn''t feel cold and hopeless anymore. After this, I would rather die than go to Azkaban, the prison guarded by those horrible creatures."

    There were many simr discussions in the other houses.

    "Profound white magic, do you believe this kind of nonsense? In my opinion, that is a very profound and powerful dark magic!"

    In the green-lit and gloomy basement of Slytherin, Draco said excitedly, his face glowing with admiration, "I knew he had this ability, I dare say, even the Dark Lord may not be able to do this!"

    At present, in the Slytherin house, there were many young wizards whose parents were loyal followers of Voldemort. Among these young wizards, most of them still believed that the Dark Lord was the savior who could bring unprecedented glory and supremacy to the pure-blood families.

    Therefore, Draco''s evaluation did not get the ttery and agreement he expected, even his two loyal cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, seemed hesitant and doubtful to speak.

    In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey sent away the Gryffindor team captain who came to visit Harry, and was cleaning the mud and blood on the floor with a displeased and annoyed face.

    After a period of reflection and Professor Watson''s exnation, Hermione and Ron finally stood together again, although the matter of Scabbers, Ron''s pet rat, was still an unresolved knot in their hearts, but they tacitly ignored this matter for now.

    "You can''t imagine how big that thing is, Harry!"

    Ron opened his arms and tried his best to gesture to Harry, he looked fascinated and awestruck, and said with an awe-inspiring and breathless tone,

    "That big snake is as tall as the Gryffindor tower, with a pair of wings on its back. They were silver-white at first, butter one of them turned ck for some reason, and those Dementors. They flew around the ck wing like affectionately."

    Ron seemed to want to find a metaphor to describe the appearance of the Dementors around the wing, but he racked his brains and couldn''t find any appropriate adjective. In the end, he could only throw out the word ''affectionate'', which sounded very absurd and ridiculous.

    "This is not normal, is it?"

    Unlike the excited and amazed Ron, Hermione looked worried and concerned, "Professor Watson''s magic looks like the same as Professor Lupin''s on the train to deal with the Dementor that came to search. They are both silvery creatures, and they can spray silver mist, but their effects arepletely different and opposite."

    "Maybe Professor Watson has a higher level of mastery and skill in this spell."

    Ron shrugged his shoulders and said with a matter-of-fact and casual tone,

    "It''s obvious, isn''t it? Just look at the difference in the size of the things they conjured."

    Harry felt a rare flicker of happiness after today''s encounter, seeing that Ron and Hermione had stopped quarreling and were able to talk normally again. Hey on his bed, wrapped in a thick nket, and listened quietly to his friend''s animated discussion about Professor Watson''s Patronus.

    "Those Dementors-"

    Ron''s vivid description gave Harry a rough idea of what a spectacr sight Professor Watson had created, but Harry had no interest in being amazed by it. He was still haunted by his failure in front of the Dementors, which had cost Gryffindor the crucial match, and by the faint voice he had heard in his head.

    "What happened to those Dementors?" Harry asked in a low voice, interrupting Ron''s enthusiastic praise.

    "They were all locked up. Professor Watson was furious, I''ve never seen him so angry before¨C"

    Hermione said with a trembling voice, "He probably felt that he had let everyone down. When he flew down from the hoops, Professor McGonagall asked him how he was going to handle the Dementors. He said he wouldn''t do anything until Fudge came personally and exined why those Dementors had gone rogue."

    Harry pursed his lips and nodded, his mind once again filled with that pitiful voice.

    A fierce gust of wind broke into the room through the gap of the window sash, making the curtains flutter.

    Ron hurried over to close the window, shivering from the cold, and when he came back, Harry finally raised his head again and asked, "What about my broom, did you guys manage to get it for me?"

    Ron''s face fell, and Harry''s heart sank with it. He asked anxiously, "What''s wrong, did it break?"

    "It''s not that¨C" Hermione said hesitantly, biting her lip, "It''s just that, when you fell, it was blown away by the wind. Everyone was too scared by Professor Watson''s Patronus to notice, so, well. You know the Whomping Willow is right on the edge of the pitch."

    <strong><em>(Headmaster''s office)</em></strong>

    Fawkes held his head high, and his ruby-like eyes reflected a swaying ''silver dragon''. The portraits on the wall whispered among themselves, and their main topic of conversation was also the winged snake with ck and white wings that roamed around the office, asionally hissing softly.

    Dumbledore''s expression was more serious than ever, his blue eyes were brighter than any previous moment, as if they were emitting light, and his aura also brought some pressure to Bryan who stood beside him.

    "That''s enough, Bryan¨C" After a while, Dumbledore sighed and said wearily. The whispers in the office seemed to die down after Dumbledore finished this sentence, even the portraits fell silent for a while, waiting for him to give them an answer.

    "Did you find anything, Headmaster?" Bryan waved his hand to dismiss the Patronus, and his expression was calm andposed.

    "Sit down and talk¨C" Dumbledore returned to his desk and gestured for Bryan to sit down. The eyes of the two different colors met in the office, but neither of them could read anything from the other''s eyes, because both of them used lumency.

    "Before we let our imagination run wild and make those fanciful guesses, Bryan, I have to ask you a question first."

    Dumbledore put his hands on his chin and said gravely, "Is there anything you want to tell me? I mean, some of your experiences may help our spections get closer to the truth."

    <em>''Some experiences¡­.?</em>

    <em>The prophecy of the ancient Druid religion that had somehow involved him? </em>

    <em>The copsed Avalon Ind?</em>

    <em>The legendary Godric Gryffindor who had appeared in front of him across a thousand years of time?</em>

    <em>Or the twin serpent staff that had been prophesied to be picked up by him, but somehow voluntarily slipped out of his control, and vanished with that mysterious woman named Cliodna?''</em>

    Bryan sighed in his heart <em>''Why is this world so hostile to the transmigrators?''</em>

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 0209 Answers

    0209 Answers

    In an instant, many thoughts shed through Bryan''s mind, but he still calmly met Dumbledore''s gaze. He could see the deep blue eyes of the headmaster, piercing through his own as if trying to read his secrets.

    "I''d like to hear your opinion first, Headmaster Dumbledore." He said in a steady voice, hiding his inner turmoil.

    Dumbledore''s old face showed a trace of helplessness. He knew that Bryan must have hidden some very important information, but he had no way to force this young man to say what he didn''t want to say, whether it was by reason or by force.

    "Let me start with my conclusion, Bryan¨C" Dumbledore said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

    Compared to the possible problems that Bryan had, the bitterness of not being trusted waspletely insignificant. Dumbledore shook his beard, his expression extremely solemn. This expression also made any person or thing in the office with a mind, aware of the seriousness of the matter. The silver instruments on the shelves stopped their whirring and clicking, the books on the desk closed their pages, the pensieve in the corner glowed faintly.

    "We all know that a patronus is a magical creature that reflects the mind, or it can also reflect the soul. So, the source of the mutation of your patronus is your soul, Bryan. And my observation results also confirmed this guess." Dumbledore continued, his voice grave and low.

    "Your observation results¨C" Bryan interrupted, his curiosity getting the better of him. Dumbledore''s first half of the sentence did not exceed Bryan''s understanding, or rather, he had a guess in his heart. But the second half of the sentence made Bryan''s eyelids tremble slightly. He stared at the unfathomable greatest wizard of the present age in front of him, his tone faintly suspicious.

    "If you mean the observation under the magical perspective¨C"

    "It''s not the magic perspective, Bryan," Dumbledore said calmly.

    "Yes, you heard me right. I can see through a person''s soul. Oh, I used to be able to, but now this ability has degenerated a lot. Of course, this is not the core of the problem we are discussing. If you are interested, I can chat with youter about this knowledge." He continued, waving his hand dismissively.

    Without waiting for Bryan to agree, Dumbledore directly said his conclusion based on his guess and observation.

    "I think your soul is not purely yours, Bryan. I vaguely ''saw'' another kind of power in your soul."

    The room was silent. The portraits of the past headmasters all showed stunned expressions. They had witnessed many extraordinary events in their lives, but this was beyond their imagination. The phoenix on the golden branch also stopped its desire to cry and listened carefully.

    "There is a power in my soul that does not belong to me. You mean¨C" Bryan said word by word, almost using all his strength to run the lumency to maintain his calm expression.

    "There is another person''s soul hidden in my soul?" He asked again.

    "I''m not sure¨C" Unexpectedly, Dumbledore shook his head, his silver-white beard swaying with it.

    "I only felt a very vague feeling, like an illusion. But if this is not an illusion, then that thing does not belong to you." He said, his eyes narrowing slightly. He was not certain, but he had a strong intuition. And his intuition was rarely wrong.

    Dumbledore looked very hesitant. "If. I mean, if, Bryan, if that really is someone''s soul, I have seen a simr situation before." He said, his voice dropping to a whisper.

    "Where?" Bryan asked, his voice trembling slightly. He was careful with his words, and vaguely, he seemed to feel that the shadow that enveloped him was about to be lifted by a corner.

    When Dumbledore said those words, the portraits on the wall also unanimously gasped. These magic portraits with the memories of their original selves were all sharp-minded and outstanding wizards in their lives, and they also knew the most secrets of Dumbledore. Just one sentence was enough to make them think of many things.

    The air became solidified, as if even the candlelight flickering on the candlestick on the corner of the desk was frozen. Dumbledore looked at Bryan who was quietly waiting for his answer, looked at this excellent young wizard whopletely exceeded his expectations. In his heart, he was making a difficult decision. He was weighing the pros and cons, the risks and benefits, the truth and the lies.

    The long silence made Bryan realize that Dumbledore''s ''simr situation'' was not that simple,

    "If it''s really that difficult, Dumbledore¨C" Bryan said, sensing Dumbledore''s hesitation.

    "It''s not an easy secret to say, Bryan," Dumbledore smiled. "But I think you are undoubtedly trustworthy. The previous hesitation was just a stubborn bad habit of an old man¨C"

    <em>''It was indeed a strange habit, never forgetting to win people''s hearts,''</em> Bryan pursed his lips and thought.

    "I think you must remember what happened in this schoolst semester. I mean, the Chamber of Secrets was opened again after fifty years and two innocent young wizards were attacked." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of sadness.

    "Of course, I came back to Hogwarts because of that." Bryan nodded.

    "That''s it?¨C" He said, his voice trailing off. He knew that Dumbledore had more to say.

    Dumbledore continued to smile. "Before you came back, there was a rumor in the school that Harry was the heir of Szar Slytherin. Do you know why, Bryan?" He asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

    "Parselmouth?" Bryan answered, his expression calm but his mind alert. He was not fooled by Dumbledore''s seemingly harmless question.

    Dumbledore nodded. He was not surprised by Bryan''s answer.

    "But we now know that the person who opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago andst year was Tom Riddle, who is also known as Voldemort. He was also a parselmouth. What do you think is the connection between them, Bryan?" He asked, his voice serious and low.

    "I don''t think they are rted by blood." Bryan narrowed his eyes. He now understood why Dumbledore was so hesitant before.

    "¨CThest person Tom killed before his downfall was Harry''s mother. Then he tried to kill Harry, using the killing curse. But his curse only gave Harry a scar and did not take his life. Instead, he himself was destroyed by the curse that rebounded."

    Dumbledore''s voice became gentle, like a whisper in a dream.

    Fawkes cried mournfully in the quiet room. The phoenix on the golden branch sensed the sorrow and the pain in Dumbledore''s voice, the sorrow and the pain that he had carried for so long, the sorrow and the pain that he had shared with no one.

    Bryan leaned back on the chair and closed his eyes.

    The atmosphere in the office was extremely tense, even the wind outside the castle seemed to stop. The portraits on the wall were silent, the books on the desk were still, the pensieve in the corner was dark. The only sound was the crackling of the fire in the firece, the only light was the flickering of the candle on the candlestick. The only movement was the breathing of the two wizards, the only emotion was the anticipation of the answers.

    "So you mean¨C" Only the candle being slowly consumed by the me showed that time was still passing. Bryan sighed deeply. He opened his eyes and looked at the old man who knew too much and said too little.

    "You think Harry and I are the same, both turned into horcruxes by someone, right, Headmaster Dumbledore?" He asked, his voice calm but his eyes zing.

    "I don''t want to lie to you, Bryan." Dumbledore took off his sses and rubbed his brow. He looked tired, and old.

    "I think this is indeed a possibility, but, from your behavior, you seem to be unaware of everything. This is illogical. I am very certain that no one can secretly put a soul into a wizard like you- Unless, your memory has been altered?" He said, his voice questioning but his eyes certain. He was stating his conclusion, but also his confusion.

    For Dumbledore''s guess, or rather, test, Bryan had no answer.

    Since he was born into this world, he knew If his memory had any issues, but at least, now he realized one thing, that is why he could wield the twin serpent staff that even Gryffindor could not forcefully take.

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 0210 Their Origin

    0210 Their Origin

    Dumbledore had expected Bryan to react with panic, anger, or dread when he voiced his guess, but he was taken aback by the young man''s calm demeanor. Bryan showed no signs of panic or fear, only a faint weariness that clouded his eyes. Dumbledore, who had lived for more than a century and seen countless secrets and lies, could not tell if Bryan was hiding his true feelings behind a mask of lumency.

    What had Bryan gone through in his life, what secrets did he conceal in his heart, and how did he manage to keep such aposed facade? Dumbledore was curious and intrigued by these questions, and he hoped to find some answers in their conversation.

    "Let''s discuss them one by one, Headmaster Dumbledore." Bryan rubbed his forehead, and spoke with a slight fatigue in his voice.

    "Of course¨C" Dumbledore smiled warmly and said, "You have been back at Hogwarts for quite a while now, Bryan, and I have learned a lot about your habits."

    He stood up and flicked his wand out of his sleeve, conjuring a cup of steaming green tea on the slender-legged desk in front of Bryan, while he prepared a cup of honey water for himself. He knew that Bryan liked green tea, especially after a long day of studying and practicing magic.

    "Please allow me to rmend you a very interesting and delicious food, Bryan¨C" He said cheerfully, as he walked towards the table where the sorting hat was ced. He picked up a jar from the table and turned around, holding it in his hands.

    "The owner of Honeyduke''s candy shop, Ambrosius Flume, and I are acquaintances. He knows my hobby, so he often asks someone to bring me some new products from his shop for me to taste."

    As he said this, he opened the lid of the jar and rolled up his sleeve. He reached into the jar and began to grope for something, but his hand did note out for a long time. He looked like he was catching bugs in a jar, and Bryan could not help but chuckle at the sight.

    "Are you catching bugs, Headmaster Dumbledore?" He asked, amused.

    But soon he couldn''tugh anymore.

    "Oh, there it is, these little guys are really more sensitive than you can imagine¨C"

    Dumbledore said as he looked at Bryan and winked, as if he had a secret to share. He finally pulled out his hand from the jar, holding a squirming and squeaking thing in his palm. He offered it to Bryan, who recoiled in horror.

    "This candy is called Cockroach Cluster, and its inventor, Mr. Flume, is still hesitating whether to introduce it to the wizarding world." He exined, as if he was presenting a rare delicacy.

    "I think Mr. Flume should think carefully," Bryan said, turning his face away in disgust. "By the way, I think he also needs to go to St. Mungo''s to check his brain."

    Dumbledore chuckled and shrugged, as if he respected Bryan''s opinion, but did not share it. He brought the candy to his mouth and bit into it, making a loud crunching sound. He closed his eyes and savored the taste, as if he was enjoying a fine wine. Bryan felt a shiver run down his spine, and he wondered how Dumbledore could eat such a disgusting thing. A few secondster, Dumbledore''s face stiffened, and he opened his eyes.

    "This little guy might have taken one of my teeth," He said, touching his mouth with his tongue. "And I think I swallowed it, oh, this is a terrible loss."

    Bryan rolled his eyes and thought, <em>''Enough, old man, are you still ying around?!''</em>

    The atmosphere in the office was more lively than before, but it was also tense and awkward. Dumbledore and Bryan leaned back on their chairs, each holding their own drinks, pretending to be casual and rxed looking like they were discussing tomorrow''s weather.

    Bryan took a sip of his bitter tea, feeling the heat and the sting in his throat and the warmth in his stomach. He sighed slightly, and decided to break the silence.

    "Your previous guess, Headmaster Dumbledore, I noticed that you described it as: ''vaguely sensing a power that does not belong to me''. So, that is to say, you are not sure whether that thing is a piece of a wizard''s soul, or a Horcrux?" He asked, looking at Dumbledore with a calm and steady gaze.

    Dumbledore met his eyes, and nodded slowly. He put down his cup of honey water, and looked up at the colorful patterns on the circr dome above them and spoke in a solemn and serious tone.

    "We all know what a Horcrux is, Bryan," He continued. "A piece of soul that is protected by powerful and evil magic, and separated from the body. Every person''s soul is like our magic, Unique, unless that soul originally belongs to you, otherwise, they can only cling to each other and cannot merge."

    "You mean, what you observed was, that thing and my soul were blended together?" Bryan asked, trying to understand what Dumbledore had seen in his mind.

    "I think so." Dumbledore nodded, gazing at Bryan with a prating look, as if he wanted to confirm his hypothesis.

    "It is a very close connection, it lurks in your soul. Like-" He paused, searching for a suitable analogy, and his eyes wandered around the office, until theynded on the cup of green tea that Bryan was holding in his hands.

    "Like two drinks of different colors, unable to mix with each other. Of course, we still can''t rule out the possibility that it is a piece of soul, because, my guess is only based on theory, and Horcruxes are the mostplex and unpredictable dark magic, we can''t im we really understand it."

    Bryan nodded slightly, agreeing with Dumbledore''s assessment of Horcruxes. Indeed, in the current wizarding world, the person who knew the most about Horcruxes was Voldemort, not him and Albus Dumbledore.

    ''<em>Memory, memory again.</em>'' Bryan thought, falling silent.

    Dumbledore fell silent, too, and Bryan didn''t say anything either, thinking gloomily.

    Whether it was a Horcrux, or something else, the ''foreign object'' in Bryan''s soul, undoubtedly came from a wizard''s hand, but he had no memory of this aspect.

    "If you really know nothing about this thing-" Dumbledore looked at Bryan, hesitantly, "If you allow me-" He gestured towards the Pensieve, which was sitting on a nearby table, filled with silvery liquid.

    "Thank you for your kindness, Headmaster Dumbledore-" Bryan interrupted Dumbledore''s words, he met Dumbledore''s gaze, and said firmly, "I will not allow anyone to examine my memory."

    Dumbledore was not surprised by Bryan''s answer, this was natural, even the closest partner, probably could not stand the other party knowing all their memories. He respected Bryan''s choice, but he also felt a twinge of regret and disappointment.

    About the thing in Bryan''s soul, whether it was a piece of soul, or something else, based on the information they had at present, it was impossible to make an urate guess, but there were some things that they could at least verify.

    <strong>Thump-</strong> The bottom of the ss bottle hit the table and made a sharp sound, just looking at the bottle that waspletely ck, the portraits of the former headmasters on the wall all gasped in unison.

    "For so many years, I have been under your watchful eye countless times, Headmaster Dumbledore,"

    Bryan said, looking at the bottle with a calm and curious expression. He remembered the previous summoning of the Patronus on the Quidditch pitch, the inexplicable palpitation in his heart. He fixed his eyes on Dumbledore, who was solemnly looking at one of the most evil creatures in the wizarding world, the Dementor, and said slowly, "But you never noticed anything wrong with me, until just now when I summoned the Patronus in front of the Dementor."

    "I understand what you mean, Bryan." Dumbledore sighed slightly, "As for the origin of the Dementor, a creature that cannot be destroyed by magic, and even the Patronus can only repel but not annihte, there has never been a consensus in the wizarding world.

    Some people think that it was the dark wizard Ekrizdis who created the Dementor in the fifteenth century, but ording to some records from the Ministry of Magic, the investigators of the Royal Magic Society, the predecessor of the Ministry of Magic, when theynded on the ind of Azkaban, they found some clues that suggested that this creature seemed to have existed there for a long time.

    We don''t know when it appeared, nor do we know whether it is a magical creature that evolved from nature, or from the whim of some dark wizard. Oh, but from the current situation, they are most likely artificially created, of course, you must have thought of that, their creators probably have some mysterious connection with you, but that doesn''t make sense, does it?"

    He looked at Bryan with concern and said, "Even if the terrifying creature that can take away people''s happiness really came from the hand of that dark wizard in the fifteenth century, then why would it have anything to do with you?"

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 0211 Death?

    0211 Death?

    Bryan felt a surge of nostalgia as he listened to Dumbledore''s question. He had been lost in his memories of the deste ind of Avalon, where he had explored the ancient Greek temple at the heart of the ind and marvelled at the nine splendid murals that adorned its walls. The murals depicted the epic battle between the legendary King Arthur and his faithful wizard Merlin on one side, and the treacherous Queen of Avalon, Morgana le Fay, on the other. It was a battle that had shaken the foundations of the wizarding world but few knew, and had left only one survivor: Merlin himself.

    King Arthur and Morgana le Fay, the mortal enemies who also appeared in the Muggle legends, had both perished in the sh, and the fate of Merlin and the dark shadow that had possessed Morgana was shrouded in mystery.

    Bryan shuddered as he thought of the dark shadow, a sinister force that had corrupted Morgana.

    He nced at the bottle on the desk in front of him, and wondered silently.

    <em>''Morgana le Fay was known as the Witch of Avalon, and was affiliated with the ancient Druid sect that had flourished at that time. This was recorded in both the Muggle and wizarding histories.</em>

    <em>But the dark shadow within Morgana was mentioned in those murals only. Where did ite from, and where did it go? Was it imprisoned by Merlin in the ck Stone Tower, the mysterious structure that stood deep in the Knockturn Alley?</em>

    <em>And what about the Twin-Serpent Staff, the powerful artifact that the dark shadow had hurled at Merlin in a final act of defiance?''</em>

    <em>¡­ Dementors-Azkaban</em>.''

    The words shed in his mind, and he snapped out of his reverie. He looked at Dumbledore, who was waiting patiently for his answer.

    "Do you know the exact location of Azkaban, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Bryan asked, his face expressionless, hiding the turmoil in his heart.

    Dumbledore was not surprised that Bryan wanted to go to Azkaban to investigate, after all, he had a personal reason to do so. The Dementors, the foul creatures that had altered his patronus, had been first discovered there.

    "I''m sorry, Bryan¨C" Dumbledore shook his head and said, "The location of Azkaban is a top secret in the wizarding world, it is protected by the Unbreakable Vow and the Fidelius Charm by the Unspeakables of the Department of Mysteries, passed down from generation to generation. I''m afraid even Cornelius doesn''t know which Unspeakable holds the secret."

    "How does the Ministry of Magic manage to imprison the criminals there?" Bryan wondered.

    "Portkey¨C" Dumbledore smiled with aplex expression, "Once the Wizengamot decides that a wizard should be sent to Azkaban, the Hit Wizards will escort him through a two-way Portkey set up in the Ministry of Magic directly to Azkaban. If-"

    Dumbledore paused, as he looked at Bryan who was listening intently. He suddenly imagined a possibility: The notorious bounty hunter in the underworld, Golden-Viper, had broken into the Ministry of Magic, incapacitated all the security forces there, and stole the Portkey to Azkaban. At present, the Ministry of Magic had not yet learned what the purpose of Golden-Viper''s heinous crime was, but it was not ruled out that Golden-Viper might have epted amission to rescue a certain prisoner who was locked up in Azkaban. Thinking of this, Dumbledore felt a shiver in his heart, he knew that Bryan had the courage and the skill to do so.

    "If you need to go to Azkaban," Dumbledore looked at the young man who seemed to be contemting something, and said with a grave tone, "I can apply for you to Cornelius with some pretext like a research project on the Defense Against the Dark Arts, I believe Cornelius will not refuse my request, but I think he will ask me to apany you, or at least, he will probably let Rufus or Barty go with you."

    Bryan frowned, he wanted to investigate these things, each of which could cause a hugemotion if exposed, and he couldn''t do anything with so many people watching him.

    "Thank you for your kindness, Headmaster Dumbledore," Bryan nodded gratefully, "I''ll find a way myself."

    "Bryan." Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, his blue eyes shooting a stern look, and his tone also conveying a warning.

    "I understand what you are concerned about, Headmaster Dumbledore." Bryan smiled, "Don''t worry, I''m not such an impatient wizard, I will wait for the right opportunity, and I won''t make it known to the world, and make people panic."

    The discussion about how to infiltrate Azkaban came to a halt, as Dumbledore realised that he could not dissuade Bryan from his perilous n. He tried to impress upon him the grave consequences that would ensue if the wizarding world discovered that the Ministry of Magic had lost its grip on the notorious prison, where the most vile criminals were locked away. then, for the residents of the British wizarding world, it would be a dreadful thing.

    "Dementors, these abominable creatures¨C" Bryan would probably do those things, Dumbledore knew it well, so he said about them directly, "Since they were first encountered more than a few centuries ago, wizards have never ceased to study them. When I was young, I also attempted to unravel their mysteries for a while, of course, only through the documents. As themon wisdom goes, they cannot be killed, the only thing that can repel them is the Patronus Charm¨C"

    "Even you can''t kill them?" Bryan interrupted, narrowing his eyes. "I mean, with all your strength?"

    Dumbledore noticed that Bryan''s cup of tea had gone cold, and he waved his wand to refill it with a flick of his finger. He met Bryan''s gaze with a helpless smile, but did not answer his question.

    Dumbledore''s silence was itself the answer.

    But it was indeed a curious thing, wasn''t it?

    Bryan blew away the tea leaves that floated on the surface of his cup, and took a sip of the hot beverage. He pondered the paradox of the dementor''s existence.

    <em>''Where There is life, there is death, this was thew of nature, and thew of the universe. Even with the aid of magic, one could not escape this iron-dw.</em>

    <em>If there was a creature that had a very long lifespan, and that had no known way of being killed, then why did so many dark wizards and ambitious people throughout history try to devise various methods to prevent their own death, even at the cost of splitting their souls and creating horcruxes?</em>

    <em>Wasn''t that a foolish thing to do? Why didn''t they rush into Azkaban and study how to transform themselves into dementors?</em>

    <em>Unless, dementors were not a kind of life at all.''</em>

    "Do dementors have souls?" Bryan asked, after a moment of contemtion. He blinked his light purple eyes, which contrasted with his light grey hair.

    "You have grasped the core of the problem¨C" Dumbledore said, impressed by Bryan''s insight.

    The dementors that ordinary wizards feared and loathed, for Dumbledore and Bryan, were actually nothing. Besides being unkible, these things could not pose a threat to them.

    With a hint of appreciation in his deep blue eyes, Dumbledore smiled and said, "Like you, Bryan, my main way of studying dementors is to consult literature, and many years ago, a dear friend of mine seemed to have done some real research, and in the letter he gave me, he mentioned an interesting point."

    The person who was hailed by Dumbledore as a dear friend, actually went to study the dementors, a creature closely rted to dark magic, in person. Bryan raised his eyebrows, and then thought of some unverifiable rumors about Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of the present age, when he was young.

    "He believed that the soul of the dementor was its body, a kind of ''spirit-flesh'' unity creature, the dementor used ''evil thoughts'' as its body, and that there was a mysterious connection between individuals. Perhaps their life force was connected." Dumbledore said, quoting Grindelwald''s letter.

    "So, dementors are not unkible, but they can''t be killed individually. Mr. Grindelwald is indeed a genius." Bryan said, nodding thoughtfully. He was intrigued by Grindelwald''s theory, and wondered if it could be tested and verified.

    In Dumbledore''s bitter smile, Bryan detected a trace of sadness and nostalgia.

    "What else, did Mr. Grindelwald mention anything else? For example, the reason why this creature was created or the method of making it?" Bryan asked, hoping to learn more from Dumbledore.

    "Some things happened andter¨C" Dumbledore said, his old face twitching with a fleeting bitterness.

    "Wepletely cut off our private contact." He said, ending the conversation.

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 0212 Hocrux

    0212 Hocrux

    As the old saying goes, the one who knows you best must be your opponent.

    Ever since Bryan had entered the magical world of Hogwarts, he had gained a general understanding of the wizarding world through his sses, books, and friends. However, after a fateful night in his fifth year, he realized that his biggest challenge in the future might not be the notorious Dark Lord Voldemort, who was terrorizing the wizarding world with his followers, but the old and wise Albus Dumbledore, who looked at him with a hint of nostalgia and curiosity in his twinkling blue eyes.

    To learn more about Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts and one of the most powerful and respected wizards of all time, Bryan had done some extensive research on his life and history. He had found official records, such as newspaper articles, biographies, and awards, as well as unreliable gossip, such as rumors, scandals, and secrets, that all mentioned the friendship between Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore in their youth.

    Grindelwald was a dark wizard who had once sought to overthrow the International Statute of Secrecy and create a new world order where wizards ruled over Muggles. He was defeated by Dumbledore in a legendary duel that had shaken the wizarding world.

    There were even some strange rumors that made Bryan blush. They suggested that there was more than friendship between Grindelwald and Dumbledore. Bryan quickly dismissed them as inappropriate for children, and irrelevant for his purpose.

    Bits of information and experiences, like pieces of a puzzle, appeared in front of Bryan. He was able to construct a logical truth, but the most crucial part of it was still shrouded in mystery.

    Perhaps the key was in the woman Cliodna, who was like a shooting star, brief and dazzling. She might be able to exin to him the secrets of the chilling Twin-Serpent Staff, and what it had revealed to her, that made her show such a shocked and bewildered expression in the temple on Avalon Ind.

    Until now, there was still no news from Kakus, who had promised to contact Bryan when he had more information. It seemed that the druids, who had been persecuted by the church for centuries, were very good at hiding their traces.

    And as for the ''foreign object'' in his soul, after discussing it for so long, Bryan''s only conclusion was that the master of the Twin-Serpent Staff was probably the creator of the Dementors, the soul-sucking creatures that guarded the wizarding prison of Azkaban.

    "There is something else, I just thought of it¨C"

    Bryan temporarily put aside the root of his own problem, and turned the topic to another issue that he was very concerned about.

    "Among the things you just told me, there is one that makes me the most uneasy." Bryan frowned, "Let''s not talk about my problem for now, Headmaster Dumbledore. Harry¨Cdo you think he is Voldemort''s Horcrux, based on a guess, or do you have some evidence?"

    "Many years ago¨Cwell, I think you should see this first¨C"

    Dumbledore had anticipated this question long ago. He stood up and walked briskly to the silver device that he had ced under a wall of books.

    Dumbledore had many titles, but Master in Alchemy might be the least known one. However, the wizards who had visited Dumbledore''s office knew that he valued this unpopr discipline very much. His office was full of all kinds of bizarre and iprehensible gadgets, that made strange noises and emitted colorful sparks.

    Under Bryan''s curious gaze, Dumbledore ced the device on the table, and after sitting down again, he tapped it lightly with his wand.

    "I just told you, Bryan," Dumbledore looked at Bryan, who was examining the shiny silver alchemy device with his magic vision, and said calmly,

    "Perhaps the wizards of the wizarding world think that I haven''t changed much over the years, but in fact, as I grow older, some of my skills have deteriorated a lot. One of them is being able to see through a person''s soul. This device can help me identify some special magic disguises, such as the soul-snatching curse, and the like. I think this is a very useful skill, so when I found that my unique ''perspective'' gradually became blurred, I immediately set out to design this device."

    "It is indeed interesting, unimaginablyplex, but also an exquisite magic design."

    Bryan''s alchemy skills were not low either. Otherwise, he would not be able to design such an alchemy device as the monitoring mirror, that allowed him to spy on the movements of whole castle. So, after observing it carefully for a while, he had a rough idea of how it worked.

    "It passes the connection between magic and soul, and traces it back. Tsk tsk, priceless." Bryanplimented.

    "But, the soul is mysterious and unpredictable even to the wizards, so, I guess it can only observe some superficial aspects."

    "You are very astute, Bryan." Dumbledore praised him sincerely, as the smoke that came out of the spouts of the silver device formed shapes in the air, like a miniature fireworks disy.

    "Over the years, you are one of the first wizards who figured out its use by yourself without waiting for me to exin. Indeed, as you said, it can''t analyze a wizard''s soul deeply, so it can''t be used to observe the thing hidden in your soul, but for Harry."

    A few strands of light green smoke floated in the air, intertwined with each other, and under Bryan''s intense and prating gaze, the top turned into a snake head, hissing softly.

    "Actually, I lied to you¨C" Dumbledore suddenly said, while Bryan was observing the snake head with a hint of curiosity, "I told you before, the note you gave me and the crown left by Lady Ravenw solved two doubts for me, but in fact, twelve years ago, when Hagrid brought Harry to me after his fall, I already realized that Tom had made Horcruxes¨C"

    "I understand what you mean, Headmaster Dumbledore¨C" Bryan sighed and looked away, "A soul bound by some kind of dark magic, but still acting as a Horcrux."

    The portraits of the former headmasters that hung on the walls of Dumbledore''s office were whispering among themselves, wondering why Dumbledore would reveal such vital and dangerous information to this young wizard, who had a reputation of being cunning and ambitious, but the only two living people in this office looked at each other, and the atmosphere was somber and tense.

    Dumbledore''s ten slender fingers crossed again, resting on hisp, in the still and dimly lit room, his silver-white eyebrows fluttered slightly because of his constantly blinking eyes, that seemed to hide a deep sorrow and a heavy burden.

    "About Tom''s Horcruxes, Bryan¨C" Dumbledore opened this topic, "There is one thing that I can be happy about. Although we can''t be sure, how many Horcruxes Tom, who was already terrified ofdeath, made, but ording to some recent investigations, I was very fortunate to find another clue that might lead us to a Horcrux. Next, I n to leave the school for a while, to pursue this clue. During this time, the safety of those children can only be entrusted to you, Bryan, I think you-"

    He paused, as if he wanted to say something more, but he was interrupted by Bryan, who had no patience for his vague and cryptic words.

    "What''s the point, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Bryan looked straight into Dumbledore''s eyes, sharply pointing to the core of the problem.

    "If, the premise of killing Voldemort is, you have to kill Harry first. Is this another grand scheme that is unknown to the world, or, have you found a way to peel off that piece of soul without harming Harry''s life?"

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    <strong>Dear Readers,</strong>

    <strong>As the year 2023es to an end, I want to express my heartfelt gratitude for your continued support and encouragement. You have been the source of inspiration and motivation for me to keep writing and sharing my stories with you.</strong>

    <strong>As we wee the new year 2024, I wish you all the best for your health, happiness, and sess. I also look forward to bringing you more stories that will entertain you.</strong>

    <strong>Happy New Year!</strong>

    <strong>Your Author</strong>

 0213 Guarantee

    0213 Guarantee

    The storm that had been raging for days with thunder and lightning finally subsided, but the hazy moonlight was still barely visible through the thick stratus clouds that covered the night sky.

    Perhaps it was because Bryan had subdued the Dementors guarding the entrance of Hogwarts with his powerful magic, the cold wind that roamed the schoolyard also carried a hint of freshness and relief.

    The night was still young, and many young wizards who had not fallen asleep were still discussing the events that had happened during the day in themon room or dormitory, eagerly sharing their opinions and spections. But the professors did not forget that Sirius ck, the notorious mass murderer and Voldemort''s loyal follower, was still lurking in the shadows, eyeing a certain student in the school.

    Before entering Dumbledore''s office, Bryan had made preparations. He had arranged that tonight, Hagrid and Professor Flitwick would guard the school gate, and Filch and Professor Snape would patrol the castle, always on alert for any surprises.

    "Yes, Harry must die-" Dumbledore''s calm voice made Bryan''s heart sink.

    "So, you-" Bryan sneered, "You are raising Harry like a pig for ughter. It''s absurd, I thought you always hoped that Harry would defeat Voldemort someday. Do you want me to help you, I can rush into the hospital wing and end his life right now."

    "Please don''t misunderstand me-"

    Bryan''s attitude did not make Dumbledore feel intimidated, but rather he nodded and smiled, as if he was used to such usations.

    "I have some ideas. Of course, they are not very perfect, because there are still some key guarantees missing." He said, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon sses.

    "Guarantees for what?" Bryan asked, his curiosity piqued.

    "Guarantees for Harry''s ''safe'' death." Dumbledore said, "Please forgive me for not being able to share my fanciful ideas with you, Bryan, but I can assure you that the premise of defeating Voldemort is not to sacrifice Harry."

    <em>''This is really a paradoxical thing. If everything Dumbledore said was true, Harry was indeed Voldemort''s Horcrux, then, if he wanted to kill Voldemortpletely, he would have to kill Harry first, but Dumbledore''s statement-</em>''

    Bryan lowered his eyes, he stared at the cup of tea that was floating on the rippling water surface, already showing a stale brown color, even the tea leaves were old and bitter.

    <em>''This heartless old man.''</em>

    After a while, Bryan frowned and said, "So, there is actually a way to separate Voldemort''s soul from Harry''s soul, and this method is to let Harry be ''killed''?"

    He tried to make sense of Dumbledore''s words, but they seemed contradictory and illogical.

    "Just let me keep a little mystery, Bryan." Dumbledore took a deep breath and refused to answer this question.

    Since the incident on the Quidditch pitch was resolved during the day, the two of them had entered the headmaster''s office, and it had been several hours, and they had been discussing those exhausting issues, so, whether it was Dumbledore or Bryan, they were both very tired.

    Seeing Bryan put the bottle of sealed Dementors back into the dark bag, Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, but did not stop him, like all the teachers, he also detested the Ministry of Magic''s arrangement of these dreadful creatures around the school.

    "By the way, Bryan-" Bryan said goodbye and stood up to leave, but Dumbledore suddenly stopped him. "While I''m away from Hogwarts, if ck-"

    "Don''t worry, Headmaster Dumbledore, I won''t let him harm anyone in this school, not even a rat." Bryan said, his voice cold and confident.

    "Of course, I trust your ability, Bryan, but"

    "But?" Bryan asked, sensing that Dumbledore had something else to say.

    "It''s like this, before we took Harry to the real Chamber of Secrets built by Slytherin, your words inspired me, Bryan, so-" Dumbledore hesitated and said, "So, I hope, if you find any trace of ck, in the matter of capturing ck, I hope you can let Harry and his friends participate to some extent of course, the premise is to ensure their safety."

    Bryan raised his eyebrows, let the three kids participate in the capture of ck? But after a little thought, Bryan agreed, as long as it did not affect his own reward, it was not bad to have some fun with these little ones.

    "I will take care of it, Headmaster Dumbledore." He said, nodding his head.

    Bryan pushed open the polished oak door of Dumbledore''s office, feeling the smooth wood under his hand. He nced at the two stone gargoyles that nked the entrance, guarding the secrets of the headmaster. They were snoring softly, pretending to be asleep, but he knew they were watching him with their beady eyes. He ignored their fake attempts to open their eyes as he came out, knowing they would report his actions to Dumbledoreter. He stepped out into the night, feeling the cool breeze that hit his face and cleared his somewhat muddled thoughts.

    Bryan suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to ask Dumbledore about the knowledge of the ''soul perspective'' he had mentioned, and the clue rted to the Horcrux.

    "Tsk, Voldemort''s Horcrux, one worth eight thousand." Bryan turned and walked down the spiral staircase that led to the tower, sighing and thinking that if he encountered Voldemort''s Horcrux again, he would sell it to Dumbledore at that price and if he could find a hundred or eighty of them.

    <em>''Tsk, retire on the spot, reach the peak of life, think about it, it really makes one a little excited!''</em>

    He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at his own greed.

    Dumbledore''s office was on a separate small tower, isted from the rest of the castle. It was the highest point of Hogwarts, and from there, one could see the whole grounds, theke, the forest, and the mountains. Walking down the spiral staircase, Bryan walked to the hall, ready to return to his post.

    He had installed many surveince alchemy tools in his office, which allowed him to monitor the movements and activities of anyone within the castle and its surroundings. He was especially vignt these days, because if Sirius ck was still lurking near the castle, then he would have noticed that the Dementors guarding the gate had disappeared. He knew that normal people would not think that Hogwarts had lost its protection, but for a madman who had been tormented by the Dementors in Azkaban for twelve years, maybe he would consider tonight as a golden opportunity to act.

    "Liar!"

    Bryan was pondering his own thoughts, when he heard a furious roar from the hall, far away. It echoed through the empty corridors, breaking the silence of the night. Listening to the voice, it was Bryan''s only decent subordinate Argus Filch,¡­ Hagrid was Dumbledore''s loyal "Hawk".

    Bryan wondered what had riled him up so much, and decided to go and check.

    "What''s the matter, Argus?" Bryan walked into the light from the shadows and asked.

    He saw Filch standing in the hall, holding antern in one hand and arge sack in the other. He looked angry and excited, his face red and his hair disheveled. Next to him, there was another figure, dressed in ck robes and a cloak. It was Professor Snape with a mocking expression on his face. When he saw Bryan suddenly appear, the gloom that surrounded him dissipated a bit. He seemed to be d to see him, or rather, to have a witness for what he was about to say.

    "We have here the pitiful spectacle of Longbottom, a dim-witted excuse for a wizard, who thought he could defy the school regtions and sneak out of the castle. We caught him red-handed, Bryan. Do you want to hear his pathetic andughable attempt at justification?"

    Snape''s lip curled in a sneer as he looked down at the hapless Neville, who was sitting on the floor, looking terrified and miserable.

    "Professor Watson!" Filch said happily. "I think the reason why this little wizard wanted to leave the castle might be because he wanted to secretly inform ck. You know, the Dementors have been locked up by you, and the criminal might take advantage of tonight to break into the castle and kill people."

    ''Are you guys just looking for trouble?''

    Bryan rolled his eyes, looking at Filch and Snape and said to Longbottom who was trembling all over. "So, what is your exnation, Mr. Longbottom?"

    "He lied that he lost his wand." Snape scrutinized Bryan from head to toe, and stared at his eyes for a while. Then, he rxed imperceptibly, and saidzily.

    "I didn''t, professor-" Neville looked like he was surrounded by two hungry wolves, his lips trembled, and he replied with a desperate face.

    "That, that''s my dad''s wand. If I lose it, my grandma will kill me."

    "No wizard would be foolish enough to toss his wand around. Professor Watson, look at this little liar. He is still trying to wriggle out of it!"

    Filch''s voice was very harsh and loud in the empty castle. He looked at Bryan eagerly and said. "My office has torture tools, Professor Watson. If you need them, I can go and get them now. Of course, you can also interrogate him in my office!"

    "Lost his own wand?" Bryan sighed and rubbed his forehead. He looked at Neville with pity and disbelief. This little guy was really scatterbrained in his daily life.

    "So, you think you dropped your wand on the Quidditch pitch?" Bryan asked, trying to sound calm and reasonable.

    "Well-" Looking at the dark night and Neville who had been scratched by his own hinkypunks, Bryan thought for a while and said. "Wait until tomorrow morning. You can go to the pitch with Mr. Argus to look for your wand. But now, Mr. Longbottom, I think you''d better go back to your four-poster bed and rest well."

    Filch looked as if the young wizards had just heard that the Christmas feast was cancelled, with a gloomy and ridiculous expression. He opened his mouth, wanting to voice his true thoughts, toin. But before he could say anything, he heard Bryan''s voice again, in a firm and authoritative tone.

    "Argus, please take Mr. Longbottom back to his dormitory safely."

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 0214 Troubles

    0214 Troubles

    Professor Flitwick and Hagrid were guarding the gate, while Professor Snape and Filch were assigned to patrol all night. Bryan, who was in charge of the safety of all teachers and students at Hogwarts, couldn''t go back to his office and sleep. After sending away Filch and the bewildered Neville, Bryan walked with his Head of the house in the courtyard.

    Under the gradually cooling moonlight, they could see the undting forest and the snow-covered mountains in the distance. The white on the snow was spreading to the world, as if heralding the arrival of winter.

    The wind wandering on thewn also brought the chill of the season. It seemed that the first snow of 1993 was approaching. Bryan shivered slightly and pulled his cloak tighter around him.

    "So, it seems that Dumbledore has solved your problem?" Snape turned his head slightly and looked at Bryan, who was standing still, gazing at the snowy peaks. He asked in a low voice.

    "I''m afraid the headmaster can''t solve my troubles¨C" Bryan yawned and stretched, trying to hide his fatigue. "My situation isplicated, I''m afraid. No one else can help me much, except for myself."

    Snape understood what Bryan meant. His favorite student was implying that he was also helpless about his problems. Problems that Snape had no idea about, but suspected were rted to the Soul.

    "When did you get yourself into this trouble?" Snape snapped angrily, "I warned you so many times, Bryan. The outside world is not as simple as Hogwarts. It''s not enough to make everyone cheer by throwing two spells that can blow up a big hole in the ground. But you-, you still like to do dangerous things for those worthless galleons!"

    "My trouble was not caused after I left school, my Dear Professor Snape." Bryan smiled gently.

    "Then what¨C" Snape was stunned by this answer. His long hooked nose twitched, and his eyebrows shot up. "Could it be, at Hogwarts?!"

    "Who knows?" Bryan put his hands on his back, squinted his eyes and looked into the distance, letting the midnight cold wind blow over his hair. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, or maybe hiding something.

    "Maybe, it''s a trouble I made before I was born." He said cryptically, making Snape even more curious and frustrated.

    Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital wing for the weekend. He didn''t argue orin, but he refused to let her throw away the wreckage of the Nimbus 2000. He knew he was being silly, and he knew the Nimbus 2000 couldn''t be fixed, but Harry couldn''t help but have some attachment as this was not just a broom, but also his best friend. The broom had given him so many happy memories, and made him feel free and alive.

    Hagrid, Ginny, and all the members of the Gryffindor team visited him in an endless stream during the weekend. Everyone tried their best to cheer him up, hoping that he could recover from the terrible defeat yesterday. But to be honest, Harry didn''t feel his mood had improved, but rather more exhausted. He felt like he had let everyone down, especially himself. He wished they would leave him alone, but he didn''t have the heart to say it.

    Except for leaving at lunchtime, Ron and Hermione hardly left during the day. They had found amon goal - to cheer him up. Hermione and Ron looked like they hadpletely reconciled. They bickered and argued, telling him the news they heard in the hall at noon, trying to make Harry feel better. But neither of them noticed the cloth bag with the Nimbus wreckage hidden under Harry''s quilt.

    "Thest time was when Mrs. Norris was attacked and Professor Binns told me about the Chamber of Secrets in ss!"

    Sitting on his bed and peeling an orange for him, Hermione said indignantly. She had a stack of books beside her, all about advanced magic rted to Patronus and its history.

    "I got up early today, just to go to the library and borrow two books rted to the Patronus, but Madam Pince told me that all the books on this topic were taken away by someone yesterday. Oh, why can''t they be nice and leave me some!"

    She huffed, her bushy hair flying around her face.

    Under Hermione''s angry gaze, Ron rudely snatched the orange she had prepared for Harry from her hand, stuffed it into his mouth and chewed it with juice sshing.

    "You don''t want to learn that magic, do you, Hermione?" Ron looked at Hermione incredulously, his mouth full of orange. He swallowed and continued, "It''s too hard and boring. Besides, what''s the point? It''s not like we''re going to face any Dementors anytime soon." He said, unaware of the irony of his words.

    Harry listened silently to Ron and Hermione arguing about whether the young wizards could possibly learn the method of dealing with the Dementors, those ugly creatures that sucked the happiness out of people and made them relive their worst memories. He suddenly had an idea in his mind, but he kept it to himself for now.

    Hermione believed that Ron''s biggest problem, like his own, was that theycked motivation to study. She had been working hard to encourage them both, but the effect seemed to be very minimal.

    Although he appreciated Hermione''s kindness, Harry was not very interested in Hermione''s attempt in this regard. He thought she couldn''t expect others to excel in the field she was a master of, just like he never asked Hermione to ride a flying broomstick and perform a high-angle dive for everyone.

    Hermione finally gave up on persuading Ron to have a stronger desire for knowledge. She turned her head away and ignored them both, just staring out the window, where the sun was setting.

    The red glow of the setting sun spilled into the hospital wing, bathing Ron''s cheeks in glory. Then Ron shared some new news with Harry, "Neville got himself into trouble again."

    "Oh, what happened?" Harry frowned, thinking of Neville, who fought side by side with him in Professor Watson''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss and won the victory for Gryffindor. He admired his bravery, even though he was clumsy and forgetful.

    "It wasn''t Malfoy and his gang, was it?" Harry asked, remembering how they had tormented Neville in the past, calling him names and other things.

    "It had nothing to do with Malfoy this time, Harry," Ron rubbed his grumbling stomach and said sympathetically, "It''s the old problem. Neville lost something again, and this time, what he lost was his wand. It''s really puzzling. Why is Neville worse than those two stupid trolls behind Malfoy''s butt when ites to taking care of his own things?"

    Although Ron''s words about Neville were not very friendly, Harry agreed that Neville was too good at losing things. He had lost his toad, his remembrall, his passwords, and even his own clothes. He was always looking for something, and often ended up in the wrong ce at the wrong time.

    "¨CNeville thought his wand had fallen on the Quidditch pitch, andst night, he foolishly wanted to rush out of the castle to look for his wand. But unfortunately, he ran into Filch and Snape, that old bat." Ron said, shaking his head.

    Hearing Ron say that, Harry couldn''t help sighing for Neville. It was bad enough to lose his wand, but he also ran into the two people he was most afraid of meeting at school.

    "What happened then?" Harry asked, slightly curious about this topic.

    "Neville said that Filch was ready to torture him, and Snape seemed to want to use him as an experiment material for the potions ss. But luckily, Professor Watson, who was passing by, saved his life. He ordered Filch to help him find his wand on the pitch early this morning,"

    Ron shrugged and said, "But unfortunately, his wand may not have fallen on the pitch. They searched for hours, but they couldn''t find it anywhere."

    "Poor Neville¨C" Hermione said worriedly, "Without a wand, how can he go to ss?"

    She knew how important a wand was for a wizard, and how difficult it was to perform magic without one. She felt sorry for Neville, who was already struggling with his studies.

    Ron didn''t care about Hermione''s worries. He thought Neville''s wand was like the toad he often couldn''t find. It would show up sooner orter, and if not, he could always buy a new one. He didn''t think it was a big deal, and he changed the subject.

    Knowing that Neville was not bullied by Malfoy and his gang, Harry was not too worried about this. In fact, he suddenly thought of something when he calmed down again¨C Professor Watson.

    <em>''Hmm, he seemed to be very good at fixing things. Last year, he made Ron''s wand, which lookedpletely hopeless,st for a while. And he also seemed to be very good at dealing with Dementors.''</em>

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0215 Visit

    0215 Visit

    Ron and Hermione wanted toe over and chat with Harry after dinner, but Harry declined their offer with a vague excuse and only asked Ron to go back to the dormitory and bring his backpack for him.

    "I have some homework to catch up on," Harry said, hoping that they would not notice his expressions. He opened his backpack and took a quick nce at the contents. Then he said casually, "I need a quiet environment to deal with my history of magic homework, so you can go and do your own things."

    He tried to sound rxed, but his lie was clumsy and obvious. Ron looked at Harry anxiously, ready to say something, but Hermione poked him hard in the ribs, telling him to shut up.

    "Well, Harry¨C" Ron began, ignoring Hermione''s warning. Hermione red at him, and quickly interrupted him.

    "If you need any help¨C" she said, cutting him off. She nced at the corner of the invisibility cloak that was peeking out of the backpack and said, "Ron and I will be in themon room. You can call us anytime."

    She hoped that Harry would understand her hint, and be careful with whatever he was up to. Then she dragged a bewildered Ron out of the hospital wing, without saying anything else.

    Time flew by quickly, and soon the sky was dark and starless. The castle was silent, except for the asional snoring or coughing.

    Harry knew Madame Pomfrey''s habits very well, as he was a frequent visitor to the hospital wing. When it was nine o''clock, Madame Pomfrey left her small office and inspected each ward one by one. She saw Harry sleeping soundly under the covers, and nodded with satisfaction. She did not know that Harry was only pretending to sleep.

    Then she scolded two Ravenw first-year wizards who had a bad cold and told them to go to bed. They had been sneaking out of their beds to read some books that they had borrowed from the library. She extinguished the candles in the whole hospital, leaving only a faint moonlighting through the windows.

    In the dark, Harry listened carefully. He waited for Madame Pomfrey to return to her office, and lock the door behind her. He heard her footsteps fade away, and then he heard the sound of a key turning in a lock of her office. He nced at several beds away, where two first-year students were whispering secretly. He crawled down from the edge of the bed, and reached for his backpack,pulled out the invisibility cloak, and threw it over himself. He made sure that he waspletely covered, and then he tiptoed towards the door.

    Harry was an expert at wandering around the castle at night. He had done it many times before, for various reasons. In the whole of Hogwarts, if he imed to be the third best, no one would dare to im the second. The first ce was shared by Ron''s two brothers, Fred and George, who were the masters of mischief and pranks.

    Now, even though it was not the usual time, the castle was empty. Along the way, Harry only saw a few fifth-year students who were studying for their OWLS exams in the second half of the year. They were sitting in the corridors, or the ssrooms, or the library, surrounded by piles of books and notes. When he passed the Great Hall, he saw Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle walking towards the Slytherin basement. They all had dull looks on their faces, and they were carrying buckets and brushes.

    ''<em>Something is wrong</em>,'' Harry thought as he nced at the dark outside. He followed them subconsciously for a few steps, but then he was repelled by a nauseating stench. It smelled like rotten eggs, mixed with dung and feathers.

    <em>''Oh, right!''</em> Harry suddenly remembered that the day before yesterday, Professor Watson had announced before starting the ''interesting''petition that the winning house would get thirty points, and the losing house would have to clean the owlery on the weekend.

    In thatpetition, Malfoy and Parkinson, who had a great advantage, lost the victory due to a series ofplex factors. Harry knew that this annoying house would probably me Malfoy and Parkinson for everything. When they pushed Harry and Neville off the boat, it was probably one of the few best highlights for Slytherin. So, Malfoy had to bear all the consequences for trying to help his rivals and Crabbe & Goyle were probably there to help him.

    Harry instinctively wanted to show a smug smile when he saw the three Slytherin''s distraught backs, but he remembered Malfoy''s ''noble'' behavior when he and Neville were pushed into the water. Harry hesitated. He shook his head silently and walked quietly in another direction.

    When he came to the third floor, on his way to Professor Watson''s office, Harry lingered in front of Professor Lupin''s office for a while.

    Harry liked this year''s DADA professor, who was gentle and widely praised for his teaching. He felt not only liking, but also a kind of inexplicable intimacy. He felt that Professor Lupin''s attitude towards him was more than the normal rtionship between teachers and students.

    "Wizards who dare to call Voldemort by his name are really rare¨C"

    He thought of thest time they went to Hogsmeade and the encounter with Lupin, and muttered under the invisibility cloak.

    In the end, Harry decided not to knock on Professor Lupin''s office, although he was very concerned about his condition. He did not want to disturb his rest, or to make him feel ufortable. He decided to visit him another time, when he was more fit and cheerful.

    As for seeing Professor Watson, Harry was much more rxed.

    Professor Watson had helped him get rid of the identity of ''the heir of Slytherin'', which was a great favor to him. During the summer vacation, he had also let him know his deepest secret - Professor Watson''s own past origin, which Harry hadn''t told Ron and Hermione until now.

    He spent most of the time in August with Professor Watson. It was a very pleasant summer, because Professor Watson never acted like a professor or an adult wizard in front of him. He felt that he was always with him in a friendly and peaceful way.

    <strong>Knock, knock, knock</strong><em>¨C</em> Harry looked around, making sure that there was no one else or wandering ghosts, and took off the invisibility cloak. He stuffed it into his backpack, and then continued to knock on Professor Watson''s office door.

    Professor Watson, who was wearing gray pajamas and a dark green robe with silver patterns, appeared in front of him. He looked a bit tired, because Harry saw dark circles under his wonderful pale purple eyes, and his gray hair was also a bit messy, as if he hadn''t gone out today and didn''t took care of it.

    "Harry¨C" Bryan, who knew who it was before opening the door, looked at Harry, who seemed a little uneasy, and raised his eyebrows. He smiled and said, "-looks like you''re recovering well?"

    "Yes, Professor Watson¨C" Harry said awkwardly.

    "Madame Pomfrey thinks so too, Um-. She thinks I can be discharged early." He lied, hoping that Professor Watson would not notice.

    Bryan pursed his lips. He nced at the bag Harry was holding in his hand, but didn''t expose his lie. He opened the door, and said kindly, "Of course, then. It''s a bit cold outside, we cane in and chat slowly."

    <em>''This is why Professor Watson is so popr, he is always so understanding!''</em> Harry thought, as he followed Professor Watson into the office.

    "Lupin, Professor Lupin?" He blinked in astonishment when the door creaked shut, and he saw a person in an old wizard''s robe, with a clear sickly look on his face, next to the burning firece. He did not expect to see Professor Lupin here.

    "Good evening, Harry."

    Under the golden firelight, Professor Lupin''s smile was especially gentle.

    "I''m d to see you so energetic, Harry." After saying this, Lupin looked at Bryan, who had returned to his desk.

    "Thank you for your care and help these two days, Bryan. I think I can continue my work tomorrow. Since Harry has something to do with you¨C"

    "Oh, it''s nothing really!" Harry said in embarrassment, "Just, um, I heard from Ron and Hermione yesterday, I mean, after I lost consciousness, you performed a magic. Um-, it was amazing."

    Bryan and Remus exchanged a look, and both grinned.

    "So, you mean¨C" Bryan said cheerfully, "You came here specially to praise me, Mr. Potter?"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0216 Repairing

    0216 Repairing

    Harry clutched the bag that contained the shattered remains of his beloved Nimbus 2000, feeling a surge of anxiety and regret. He sat down on a wooden chair in the small office, where two other men greeted him with friendly smiles.

    Surprisingly, Professor Watson, the director of the office, remained silent, but just gazed at him with a gleam in his eyes. He did not say anything else, as if he was waiting for Harry to speak first.

    "Today, Minerva came over and told me about your situation, and mentioned your flying broomstick¨C"

    Meanwhile, Professor Lupin warmed his hands on the zing mes in the firece, and strolled over to Harry with a sympathetic expression.

    "It seems that she is very worried about the prospects of the Gryffindor team this year," he said softly.

    Harry''s face fell into a gloomy frown, reflecting his bad mood. He had fallen victim to the power of the Dementors again, and the Gryffindor team was now only one step away from being eliminated from the Quidditch Cup. He suddenly wondered if he should apologize to Professor McGonagall, who had given him this broomstick in his first year as a gift for making the team as a Seeker. Now, because of his weakness, this broomstick ended up in pieces.

    "Of course," Professor Lupin added quickly, noticing his bad mood, "Compared to the game, Minerva obviously cares more about you. She was very relieved that you were not seriously injured."

    "That''s true¨C" However, Professor Watson interrupted him, sounding a bit sheepish. "I was also scolded by Professor McGonagall."

    "But what does that have to do with you?" Harry asked in surprise.

    "Uh, Professor McGonagall thinks¨C" Bryan scratched his head, grinning awkwardly. "She probably meant that if I had been on the pitch at the time, I might have noticed the signs before those Dementors stormed into the school.

    Uh, It''s a fair point. So, I''m nning to consult with the heads of each house, from now on, any activities that involve a certain number of teachers and students, they have to register with me in advance, so that I can free up time to escort them."

    "That''s a good idea, Bryan," Lupin nodded approvingly. "Even if nothing else happens, having you on the scene to supervise can also prevent conflicts between the young wizards of each house. To be honest, this kind of thing was not umon when I was at Hogwarts."

    Professor Watson and Professor Lupin discussed the reporting process for a while, Harry was also interested in this topic. He listened quietly, without any displeasure at their neglect of him.

    "So¨C" Suddenly, Professor Watson turned his gaze to him, and said bluntly, "Your purpose ofing here is to ask me to help you look at your broom, right, Potter?"

    "That''s right, professor," Harry admitted, still holding the bag tightly. He knew that Professor Watson, a wizard of his caliber, could not have missed the shape of the bag, or the sound of the broken wood inside. Harry immediately jumped to his feet, his throat dry and tight. He coughed several times, trying to clear his voice.

    "It''s badly damaged. I''m not sure¨C" Then, under the urging of Professor Watson and Professor Lupin, Harry clumsily poured out the debris from the bag onto the desk.

    "Oh, my God¨C" Professor Lupin gasped softly, but there was not much surprise in his voice. He looked at the debris on the desk, and sighed deeply. "That Whomping Willow was nted the year I came to Hogwarts. At first, many young wizards were curious. They tried to touch the trunk, then a boy named David Guetta almost lost an eye, and the school banned us from going near it. To be honest, no broomstick can withstand its fury."

    <em>''It almost killed Ron and me.''</em> Harry thought so, but then, he noticed that Professor Watson stood up from his seat, bent down and pinched a piece of broomstick handle with two fingers. He looked at it carefully, Harry held his breath, his green eyes shining with anticipation.

    The office was silent, except for the crackling of the fire.

    Bryan picked up another piece with his empty hand andpared them. He studied the magic coils inside the broomstick, which looked normal to Harry. He frowned, and muttered something under his breath.

    After a long time, Bryan ced the two pieces of diamond-shaped wood that fit together in front of him. He flicked his wand out of his sleeve, muttered something, and then, to Harry''s astonishment, the two pieces of wood glowed faintly at the joint, and fused together seamlessly.

    "Sess!" Harry cried out joyfully, feeling a huge relief. He thought that his broomstick was saved, and that he could fly with it again.

    "Incredible¨C" Lupin, who was watching the two pieces of wood that were joined together, expressed his surprise, "You really can fix Harry''s broom, Bryan. As far as I know, flying brooms are very delicate alchemical artifacts, especially the Nimbus series, which should have at least a thousandplex magic coils distributed in them. They are very sensitive to any damage or interference, and require a lot of skill and precision to repair."

    "It''s not that simple-" Bryan said, cutting him off, and dampening Harry''s joy. He looked at Harry with a serious expression, and said, "This is just a temporary solution, Harry. I haven''t fixed your broom yet."

    "<em><strong>Restituo"</strong></em> Bryan, who seemed to have an idea in his mind, pointed his wand tip at the small pile of wood chips on the table, and shouted.

    A misty air stream sprayed out from the ebony wand tip, sweeping the wood chips into the air. In the asional sparks, the messy wood chips found their positions and stuck together. Soon, aplete Nimbus 2000 appeared in front of everyone! It looked as good as new, and Harry felt a surge of hope.

    <em>''Sess</em>!'' Harry''s heart was filled with a huge joy again, as he looked at the Nimbus 2000 that was wrapped in a faint air stream and floating in the air. He thought that his broomstick was restored, and that he could y Quidditch with it again.

    "Your alchemy skills are amazing, Bryan." Remus also gasped, admiring Bryan''s work. He knew that alchemy was a very advanced and difficult branch of magic, and that only a few wizards could master it. He had never seen anyone repair a broomstick so quickly and easily.

    Bryan didn''t say anything. He reached out and took down the Nimbus, his focused eyes following the thumb that rubbed the broomstick handle. He seemed to be observing something, and he shook his head slightly.

    "That''s probably all we can do ¨C" After a moment, Bryan muttered regretfully. He saw Harry''s happy face, and calmly said, "Don''t be too happy, Harry. I didn''t fix your broom. I only restored its outer appearance, but not its internal function."

    Bryan waved his hand, signaling Harry to calm down. "As Remus said, most alchemical artifacts have veryplex internal structures. They usually have hundreds of interlocking and crisscrossing magic coils and runes, that create a delicate bnce of forces and energies. I barely welded most of the magic paths inside this broomstick, but without the design drawings, I can''t repair the parts that were damaged beyond recognition. Some of the magic coils are broken, some are missing, and some are misaligned. I don''t know how to fix them, and I don''t want to risk making things worse."

    Lupin nodded, understanding Bryan''s exnation. but Harry was still puzzled.

    This was actually the reason why the same spell had different effects in different people''s hands. In the wizarding world, it could be said that more than 90% of the wizards were ignorant of the principal reasons behind the standard spells they used daily. Many wizards only knew that magic was amazing, but they didn''t know that magic wasn''t ''unprincipled''. Like muggle science, magic also followed a set of strict logical rules.

    "That means," Bryan exined patiently, "if you want to ride this broomstick on thewn to rx, chase butterflies or something, it might work fine. It might just be a bit stiff to steer. But if you want to y a high-intensity Quidditch match, Harry, I suggest you wear a parachute when you go on the field."

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    <strong>Author''s Note: The Restituo spell is an upgraded variation of the reparo spell that I created or the MC created, which can not only fix any broken object, but also restore part of its original magic and performance based on the caster''s alchemy knowledge and magic power. Restituo spell can also work on objects that are severely damaged and are made ofplex materials.</strong>

    <em><strong>*******************************</strong></em>

    <em><strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong></em>

 0217 Teach Me

    0217 Teach Me

    Harry understood the implication of Professor Watson''s words. His broom looked as if it had been repaired, but it was still severely damaged inside. The magic that held it together was fragile and unstable. He could keep it as a souvenir, but it was useless for Quidditch matches. Unless he wanted to risk his life, of course, by flying on a broom that could fall apart at any moment.

    "Thank you, Professor. This is good enough." Harry took his retired Nimbus 2000 and muttered, trying to hide his disappointment. He felt a surge of nostalgia as he held the broom that had apanied him through many thrilling games and adventures.

    Lupin looked at Harry''s face, which reminded him so much of James. He felt a pang of sadness and sympathy for the boy who had lost so much. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he remembered his empty wallet and said nothing.

    "Um¨C" Bryan hesitated for a moment, then walked to the suitcase beside the camp bed. He opened it and rummaged for a while. Harry watched him with curiosity as he pulled out a flying broom. It was wrapped in a cloth that looked like it had been torn from a curtain.

    Harry recognized it as a Cleansweep Seven right away. He was a Quidditch expert, after all. But this broom looked like it had been through hell and back. The handle was rough and uneven, and part of the tail was charred, as if it had been burned by fire. There were also scratches and dents all over the broom, as if it had been hit by various objects.

    "Anyway," Bryan handed his broom to Harry, who was stunned. "You lost your beloved broom because of the Dementors, and I feel partly responsible for that. You can use mine for a while, until you get a new one. I modified this Cleansweep Seven a bit. It can start at a hundred miles in less than nine seconds, and it has great endurance. It can cruise at top speed for more than an hour. Of course, to achieve these two things, I had to sacrifice the broom''s flexibility at high speed. That means it may not be able to perform very precise maneuvers."

    Harry was pleasantly surprised. He didn''t expect to get a broom to deal with the situation tonight. He looked sadly at the Nimbus that would never fly on the field again, and then nced at Professor Watson''s broom.

    Before the Nimbus series came out, the Cleansweep series was the star of the Quidditch world. Most of the Gryffindor team used either Nimbus or Comet 260. This broom would not let Gryffindor down in the match.

    Harry felt a surge of gratitude towards Bryan, who had lent him his broom without hesitation. But Professor Watson didn''t seem to care much about his flying broom. This broom looked like it had never been maintained. The handle was dusty and sticky, and the bristles were tangled and frayed. If Wood saw anyone in his team treating their partner so roughly, he would surely yell at them and hang them on the goalpost.

    "Those Dementors¨Cwhy, Professor," Harry looked up suddenly, as he was rubbing the broom handle with his hand. He was torn between Professor Lupin and Professor Watson, but he decided to ask Professor Watson, who was sitting behind the desk with his legs crossed.

    "Why do they affect me so much? Before, on the train, and now it''s the same. Could it be that¨C"

    "It''s not because you''re weak, Harry." Lupin''s heart clenched, and he answered for him.

    "The Dementors affect you more because you have fears in your past that others don''t." He spoke gently, but firmly, as he exined the Dementors to Harry, and how they fed on people''s happiness and memories. Lupin exined the Dementors to Harry, and while he did that, Bryan''s eyes fell on Harry''s forehead again, on the famous lightning scar that was hidden by a strand of hair.

    To be honest, Bryan didn''t care much about Harry''s scar before talking to Dumbledore. He thought it was just a mark left by Voldemort''s curse, a symbol of Harry''s survival and fame. Who would have thought that this scar contained a piece of Voldemort''s soul. A Horcrux.

    This was the third Horcrux he hade across.

    He had destroyed the diadem with Fiendfyre, and he had taken apart the one that might have been Voldemort''s first and imperfect Horcrux. He extracted some key emotions from it for the things he might have to do in the future.

    As for Harry, Bryan didn''t know Dumbledore''s n very well, but he had a feeling that Dumbledore would find a way to make Voldemort destroy this Horcrux, that he might not even know about it himself.

    Bryan sighed inwardly.

    When he first discovered that he had reincarnated into the Wizarding world and entered Hogwarts, Bryan never considered defeating the Dark Lord as his life goal or something he had to do. But now, due to various coincidences, he seemed to be destined to fight Voldemort to the end.

    He looked at Harry''s childish face and suddenly realized a problem. Bryan didn''t know how Dumbledore nned to make Harry defeat Voldemort in the original book. He guessed that he either personally helped or persuaded Harry to destroy Voldemort''s Horcruxes one by one, and finally, let Voldemort destroy the part of his own soul in Harry. It must have been a very dangerous n that required careful execution at every step. But with his own position, Dumbledore didn''t need to take such a risk.

    Bryan had advantages that Voldemort couldn''t match in terms of age and potential. He was young and talented, and he had learned a lot of magic from different sources. As long as all the Horcruxes were destroyed, Bryan and Dumbledore could join forces and even send Voldemort to Nurmengard to be Grindelwald''s cellmate.

    They could end the Dark Lord''s reign of terror once and for all. Dumbledore obviously had this idea too, otherwise, he wouldn''t have told him that Harry was a Horcrux. But the future might not be as bright as he imagined.

    "About this, Harry, I''m not an expert. You can consult Professor Watson¨C" Bryan, who was thinking about the possible war in the future, heard Remus say his name and snapped out of his thoughts. He saw that Harry and Remus were both looking at him, and he quickly figured out what he had missed.

    "You want to learn the Patronus Charm?" Bryan raised his eyebrows and asked, not surprised. He knew that Harry had encountered the Dementors twice, and he understood his desire to fight back.

    "Can you teach me, Professor?" Harry''s eyes sparkled, and he said firmly, "I want to be stronger in front of the Dementors."

    "You should teach him, Remus¨C" Bryan said to Lupin after some consideration. "My Patronus, as you know, has some problems. Using the Patronus Charm frequently might make them worse. I want to avoid it as much as possible until I sort out the situation¨Cof course, I''m happy to help with the teaching process if I can."

    "Let''s do that." Lupin was not an indecisive person. He agreed to Harry''s request immediately. As James''s best friend, he felt that he had a duty to help James''s son ovee the influence of the Dementors.

    "But you''ll have to wait a bit, Harry¨C" Lupin looked at Harry, who was excited, and said sadly. "I have a lot of work piled up because of this illness."

    He gestured to his pale and gaunt face. He had just recovered from a full moon, and he was still weak and exhausted. He needed some time to rest and prepare for the next one.

    The two purposes of today''s visit were partly fulfilled. Harry had learned more about the Dementors and the Patronus Charm, and he had received a broom from Bryan.

    He left in a much better mood. He thanked Bryan and Lupin for their help and generosity, and he promised to visit them again soon.

    "The Patronus Charm is not a magic that a young wizard can easily master. Do you think Harry can do it?"

    Standing at the door, watching Harry leave, Remus, who was also ready to go, said doubtfully. He knew that the Patronus Charm was aplex and advanced spell, and that it required a powerful and positive emotion to cast.

    "I don''t think it''s a problem. The key to learning this spell is to have a strong will. Harry is no less than a graduated adult wizard in that respect. And-" Bryan said casually, and then suddenly thought of something andughed mysteriously. He said something that baffled Remus.

    "Where is there a protagonist who doesn''t cheat?"

    He winked at Remus and closed the door.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0218 Life

    0218 Life

    Hogwarts was enveloped in a peaceful atmosphere for a few weeks after the thrilling Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. The only exception was Bryan Watson, the Ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who had been appointed as the director of the student safety office by the Ministry of Magic, and the huge and frightening Patronus he had cast on the Quidditch pitch, which resembled a monstrous Winged-Snake. The sight of the silvery beast flying over the stadium had stunned everyone, and it soon became a hot topic of gossip among the students and staff.

    The rest of the events that happened during that time were trivial matterspared to that. For instance, Neville Longbottom, the clumsy and timid Gryffindor boy, had lost his wand and couldn''t find it anywhere. He had searched his pockets, his robes, his bed, his trunk, and even his toad Trevor, but the wand was nowhere to be seen. Professor McGonagall enlisted all the boys in Gryffindor to help Neville search in themon room and dormitory, but to no avail. So, the exasperated McGonagall had to write a letter to Neville''s grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, who was a formidable old witch with a vulture-like hat and a stern expression.

    As a consequence, one morning at breakfast, Neville received another howler from his grandmother. The red envelope burst open and the voice of the furious olddy echoed throughout the Great Hall, making everyone turn their heads and stare.

    <strong>"IF YOU CAN''T FIND YOUR FATHER''S WAND, DON''T EVER DARE TO COME BACK!!!"</strong>

    The howler exploded with a loud bang, sending bits of red paper flying everywhere. As the hall fell silent and Neville sobbed into his porridge, Bryan, who was sitting at the staff table, felt a pang of pity for the poor boy.

    After a moment of thought, he took out a spare wand from his pouch and handed it to Professor McGonagall, who was sitting next to him.

    "Mr. Longbottom probably won''t be able to find that wand¨C" Bryan said to Professor McGonagall in a low voice, "I have a spare one here. Please give it to Mr. Longbottom. He can buy a new one at Ollivander''s during the Christmas holidays¨C"

    "That''s the only way, Bryan." Professor McGonagall said with a stern face, as she took the wand from Bryan and nodded her thanks. She then got up and walked towards Neville''s table, where she handed him the wand and whispered something in his ear. Neville looked up at her with a grateful expression, and then at Bryan, who gave him a reassuring smile.

    "I don''t understand this child, why he always loses things." Professor McGonagall muttered as she returned to her seat, shaking her head.

    "If you knew how Longbottom performed in my ss, Minerva." Snape, sneered from across the table, "Then you wouldn''t be surprised by this. He is aplete dunderhead, who can''t even brew a simple potion without blowing up his cauldron."

    "This child is excellent, Severus¨C" Professor Lupin, the shabby and kind Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who looked much better after the full moon and was sitting next to Professor Flitwick, leaned over and smiled gently, "He has always done well in the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss. You just need to encourage him more, instead of insulting him and taking points from Gryffindor."

    "Indeed." Professor Sprout, who was sitting on the other side of Professor Flitwick, also chimed in, "Longbottom has a great talent for herbology. You may not believe it, but I think Mr. Longbottom''s level in herbology is enough to get an outstanding grade in the O.W.L.S exam. He can identify and handle any nt, even the most dangerous ones, with ease and skill."

    "Find the reason yourself, Professor Snape." Bryan nced at the dark-faced Snape, who red back at him, and said with a chuckle. "Maybe you''re just too harsh on him."

    "By the way, Bryan¨C" Professor Flitwick pointed at the wand that Bryan had just taken out, and said shrilly, with a curious tone, "As far as I know, except for the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic, few wizards carry two wands with them! What is the reason for this, if I may ask?"

    "Ah, it''s just a personal habit¨C" Bryan said calmly, as he put the wand back into his pouch.

    "You have to stay away from that curse!"

    At the end of breakfast, Professor Trwney, the entric and dramatic Divination teacher, who had been in a trance, suddenly stood up, jingling the beads around her neck, and looked through the thick sses with a neurotic gaze at Bryan. She pointed a bony finger at him, and said in a hoarse voice,

    "My inner eye tells me, darkness and death lurks within it!!"

    Bryan raised his eyebrows, ready to say something, but Professor McGonagall said coldly first, "You probably forgot, Sybil, you had already prophesied Bryan''s death once in his fifth year, when you said that the Grim would take him! And yet, he is still alive and well, despite your predictions!"

    Professor Trwney seemed to disdain to argue, she walked away with her head held high, muttering something about the fickle nature of fate and the blindness of the ignorant.

    Bryan shook his head, amused by her antics. Besides Neville''s matter and Trwney''s outburst, the young wizards were also curious about where their beloved headmaster had gone these days. In the past, Dumbledore would often disappear for a while during the term, but he would soon reappear, smiling and dining with all the staff. He rarely vanished for two or three weeks in a row, without leaving any trace or exnation.

    Some students wondered if he had gone on a secret mission, or if he had fallen ill due to eating those weird sweets & candies. Some even spected that he had died, and that the school was hiding the truth from them.

    The match between Ravenw and Hufflepuff at the end of November ended with Ravenw''s victory, which made Professor McGonagall, who had been anxious for a while, breathe a sigh of relief, because it meant that Gryffindor still had a chance to catch up with the other houses in the Quidditch Cup.

    Ravenw had yed brilliantly, with their Seeker, Cho Chang, catching the Snitch in a spectacr dive, and their Chasers, Roger Davies, Terry Boot, and Padma Patil, scoring many goals with their clever passes and feints. Hufflepuff had put up a good fight, with their Captain, Cedric Diggory, leading the team with his skill and charisma, and their Keeper, Hannah Abbott, saving many shots with her quick reflexes. But they had been unable to match Ravenw''s speed and strategy, and had lost by a hundred and fifty points.

    After the match, on the way back to the castle, Professor McGonagall couldn''t help smiling. To be honest, although he had been in this school for seven years, Bryan didn''t know that Professor McGonagall was also a fanatical fan of Quidditch, and that she had once been a star yer herself.

    A group of professors walked together across the grounds, heading back to the castle after the Quidditch match. The sky was clear and blue, and the air was crisp and cold. The students were chatting excitedly about the game, and the cheers and boos of the spectators still echoed in their ears. The air was crisp and cold, and the snow crunched under their feet. Professor McGonagall seemed to suddenly remember something, and turned to Bryan, who was walking beside her.

    "Do you have time tomorrow, Bryan?" Professor McGonagall asked him, as they reached near the entrance hall.

    "Do you want to invite me for a drink, Professor McGonagall?" Bryan asked, surprised by her invitation.

    "If it''s to celebrate Gryffindor''s not being eliminated, Minerva¨C"

    Professor Flitwick, who had just led his Ravenw team to a victory, ran up with a smile, "I think you should treat me, after all, it''s thanks to Ravenw''s efforts that you still have a chance at the Quidditch Cup."

    "It''s not me who wants to treat, Filius¨C" Professor McGonagall held her wizard hat tightly and said unhappily, "The Minister of Magic sent a letter to Albus, hoping that he could persuade Bryan to return some of the Dementors to the Ministry of Magic, and then, Albus sent the letter back to me intact, without even opening it, so¨C"

    Bryan nodded knowingly. He could imagine the scene: Fudge, the bumbling and ipetent Minister of Magic, trying to convince Dumbledore, the ''wise'' headmaster of Hogwarts, to give up some of the Dementors that Bryan had locked up. Fudge probably met with Dumbledore at some point and learned his attitude, so he didn''t dare toe to Bryan directly. And Dumbledore didn''t want to help Fudge as a lobbyist either, especially since he himself didn''t want to see those Dementors around Hogwarts.

    "What do you think, Professor McGonagall?" Bryan asked casually, "I mean, cing those Dementors around Hogwarts."

    Professor McGonagall shook her head and said firmly, "I think it''s a terrible idea, Bryan. Those Dementors are a threat to the safety and happiness of our students and staff. They have no ce in a school of magic. They are soulless creatures that feed on human emotions, and they can cause depression, despair, and even madness. I don''t care what the Ministry of Magic says, they have no right to impose their will on us."

    There was an easy answer to this question. No professor wanted to have a bunch of monsters that could lose control at any time and suck the souls of young wizards around the school.

    Bryan knew that he had to make a decision soon, but he wanted to hear more opinions before he did. Later that night, when he went to visit Professor Snape in his dungeon office, he got a reasonable suggestion.

    "The number of Dementors needs to be reduced, Bryan," Snape, who was grading papers, heard the question and looked at Bryan, who was admiring a wall of ss specimen jars, with a nk expression.

    "So many Dementors, once they get out of control, there are few people in the school who can handle the situation in time."

    "So¨C" Bryan pursed his lips and said, "You think I should agree to keep some of the Dementors, and give the rest back to the Ministry of Magic?"

    "Unless you want to make a name for yourself, Bryan, I don''t see why you have to fight with the Ministry of Magic to the end," Snape scoffed, as he picked up a quill and dipped it in ink. He wrote something on a paper, and then threw it into a pile.

    "Since our great headmaster Dumbledore couldn''t stop the Ministry of Magic from cing Dementors around the school before, and besides, he and Fudge could have talked about this matter, but now he gave Fudge''s letter to Minerva, and let Minerva arrange for you to meet with Fudge, don''t you see, Bryan, Dumbledore wants to push you out.

    I think, in the future, this kind of thing may be more and more, Dumbledore is probably nning to let you be the liaison between Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic. Hmph, this way he doesn''t have to offend anyone." Snape continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

    Bryan clenched his fists behind his back, and said with emotion, "You must have suffered a lot from Dumbledore to see ''it'' so clearly, professor."

    Snape didn''t point out the sarcasm in Bryan''s words, he lowered his head and looked at the paper on the table, the quill stained with ink in his hand hovered in the air, and didn''t fall for a long time, until half a momentter, he said angrily to Bryan, "Ever since you punished Draco to clean the owleryst time, Draco''s grades have dropped. You can look at this pile of rubbish, Bryan, I almost thought this was Longbottom''s homework!"

    He threw the paper at Bryan, who caught it and looked at it. It was a poorly written essay on the properties of moonstone, full of spelling and grammar mistakes, and vague and inurate statements.

    <em>''Punished Draco?''</em> Hearing this, Bryan walked over and nced at the paper on the table, and also showed a disgusted expression. He remembered that he had made the losing Slytherin participants clean the owlery,

    <em>''But punishing Draco to sweep the owlery, Is this is the reason behind his poor grades,''</em> Bryan thought. After thinking for a moment, he understood the situation, probably, the group of Slytherin kids med the loss of the race on Draco''s head, so, they excluded him from their circle.

    "I always think that the kids in our house are a bit too cruel." Bryan smacked his lips and said, "Do I need tofort Draco?"

    "You know Slytherin, Bryan," Professor Snape put the Quill into the ink bottle and said coldly, "He can only rely on his own strength to get out of the current predicament. If you intervene, his situation will only get worse."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0219 Mysterious Event

    0219 Mysterious Event

    It was the first day of December, a weekend, and Bryan woke up to a pleasant surprise. He pulled open the curtains with a smile and gazed at the clear sky. The drizzling rain that had been falling for almost half a month had finally stopped, and the clouds parted, revealing a dazzling blue sky that contrasted with the white snow. However, the temperature had dropped sharply, and the muddy field outside the castle was covered with white frost that sparkled in the sunlight.

    He could see his breath as he exhaled, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. He quickly put on his warmest robe, and headed to the Great Hall for breakfast. Since it was the day to go to Hogsmeade for the weekend, the school hall was almost empty, except for a few students who had not received permission from their guardians, or who had other ns.

    Fluffy snowkes drifted down from the sky, creating a soft nket of white, which covered the roofs and the grounds of the castle. The snowkes melted on the enchanted ceiling of the hall, which reflected the clear sky, and created a beautiful contrast with the four long tables, which were decorated, ording to the colors of the four houses.

    Bryan sat at the table, and helped himself to some bacon and eggs, and a cup of hot chocte.

    "I have an appointment with Harry to practice the Patronus Charm for a while in the afternoon-" Lupin said to Bryan, sitting at the same table with a few professors. "Do you want toe and watch?"

    "Today?" Bryan frowned and muttered. "Harry didn''t go to Hogsmeade with his friends?"

    "He didn''t get the signed permission from his guardian." Lupin''s eyes shed a trace of gloom, but then he smiled and said, "I''m using a boggart to teach Harry this spell, and he''s making some progress now. ording to his progress, I think Harry might be able to master the Patronus Charm by the end of this school year."

    Bryan was not too surprised by this. A third-year wizard who could touch the edge of the Patronus Charm, a profound white magic, with just a few practices, was impressive, but as he had said before, the protagonists are cheaters.

    "However, I have other ns for this afternoon." Bryan put down his silver spoon and rubbed his hands. "I''m going to Hogsmeade with Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, and have a chat with the Minister of Magic about the Dementors."

    Lupin obviously knew about this too, and nodded without saying anything.

    For the whole morning, Bryan didn''t go out again, but stayed in his warm office reading books, newspapers, drinking tea, and asionally standing up to look out at the quiet world outside the window.

    He sneezedfortably, staring at the snow-covered yground, and muttered, "Why do I feel like I''ve already stepped into retirement life?"

    In fact, this was not Bryan''s illusion. Thinking about it, the age of his past and present lives added up, and Bryan was not far from retirement. Moreover, after the new dormitory building of the orphanage was built, and his magic power had passed the stage of rapid progress and entered the stage of dripping water, thefortable homely atmosphere of Hogwarts made Bryan feelzy for a while.

    "Get some energy, ck-" Feeling that it was almost time, Bryan changed his robe and muttered dissatisfiedly, "You only failed once, are you giving up?"

    By the time Bryan returned to the hall, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick had been waiting there for a while. Bryan helped them walk down the slippery marble stairs and walked along the stone path that could only vaguely see a little outline towards the school gate. The cold wind blew on their faces, but they were wrapped in thick cloaks and scarves that kept them warm.

    On thewn near the ck Lake, Ginny, Colin and some younger wizards were having a snowball fight, and the cheerfulughter brightened the quiet world.

    The three of them walked a little further, and Bryan, who had sharp eyes, saw Hagrid dragging a huge fir tree towards his hut. Bryan blinked and realized that Christmas was approaching.

    "Hey, Hagrid!" Bryan waved his arm at Hagrid and shouted, "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade for a drink?"

    "Oh, I''d love to!" Hagrid, who had a thickyer of snow on his mole skin coat, shouted happily when he saw who was greeting him. He dropped the fir tree and ran towards them, making the ground shake with his heavy steps. He hugged Bryan and the professors, nearly crushing them, and then followed them to the school gate.

    Hogsmeade already had a bit of a festive atmosphere, the thatched cottages and shops were covered with ayer of fresh snow, the doors were hung with holly wreaths, and the trees were dotted with strings of candles enchanted with magic.

    In addition to the students of Hogwarts, the local residents, and the children who had not yet reached the age of enrollment, also shuttled through the lively streets, and the whole ancient vige was immersed in joy.

    Under the Christmas tree that had not yet been hung with lights, the powerful figure in the wizarding world, the famous Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, stood shivering. He wrapped himself in a fine-striped cloak, but his face was still frozen blue. He looked like he was about to catch a cold. When he saw the four people from Hogwarts approaching, his face immediately became rosy. He smiled and waved his hand, trying to look cheerful.

    "It''s been a while, hasn''t it?" he greeted them warmly.

    "Indeed-" Bryan walked up quickly, shook Fudge''s hand and smiled. "How have you beentely, Minister?"

    "Don''t mention it!" Fudge wanted toin about something, but then a cold wind blew, and Professor McGonagall, who was thin and not resistant to cold, interrupted him. She pulled her cloak tighter around her and frowned. "Let''s talk somewhere else, Minister, unless you want us to freeze to death outside."

    The group walked past the post office and Zonko''s joke shop, and headed for the Three Broomsticks. Along the way, many students who recognized them greeted them, and many residents bowed respectfully to Fudge, who was the Minister of Magic. They looked curious and excited, wondering what brought the Minister to their vige.

    "Oh-" After sending away a few vigers, Fudge said happily. "It seems that they are enjoying their peaceful life, don''t they?"

    "You''re right, Minister-" Hagrid, who was honest and straightforward, said sincerely. He was not bothered by the cold at all, and his beard was covered with snowkes. "Ever since Professor Watson locked up the Dementors wandering around, the viger''s enthusiasm has risen a lot!"

    "Ahem!" Fudge immediately became embarrassed and couldn''t speak. Bryan looked at Hagrid approvingly, and by the way helped Professor McGonagall, who was shrugging her shoulders constantly.

    Anyway, except in Hogwarts, a magical elite military training base in the wizarding world, the name of the Minister of Magic was still quite impressive in other ces. When the group pushed open the door of the Three Broomsticks, Mrs. Rosmerta, who was busy spinning around, immediately dropped her hands and walked over.

    "What wind brought you here, Minister?" she asked with interest. She winked at Bryan and the professors, who were her regr customers and led them to the private room.

    "Some things. Let''s have something to drink first, dear." Fudge nced at the young man who smiled silently across from him, and said hesitantly. He was not sure how to start the conversation with Bryan.

    Everyone ordered alcoholic drinks for themselves, except for Bryan, who usually didn''t choose to make his head dizzy at non-meal times.

    "A cup of green tea will do-" Bryan said to Mrs. Rosmerta.

    Mrs. Rosmerta obviously cut the queue for them, and in less than two minutes, the drinks they ordered were all served. She ced them on the table with a flourish, and then left them alone. The group held their cups and chatted casually, but Fudge seemed to be absent-minded all the time.

    "I thought you woulde earlier. I mean, after I locked up the Dementors of the Ministry of Magic, I thought you woulde to me right away." Bryan said. He took a sip of his green tea and looked at Fudge with a calm expression. He wanted to know what Fudge had to say to him.

    Professor McGonagall and the others quieted down.

    "I wanted to do that, Bryan-" Fudge said awkwardly. He avoided Bryan''s gaze and stirred his drink nervously. "But some more important things held me back."

    Hearing this, the faculty members of Hogwarts showed a certain degree of surprise. At the moment, for the Ministry of Magic, there was nothing more important than catching Sirius ck, the notorious mass murderer who had escaped from Azkaban.

    "An event, probablynding next year!" Fudge''s happy voice revealed a clear sense of superiority. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, as if he was sharing a secret. "Don''t ask me, gentlemen, the project is still not out of the fundraising stage. The Ministry of Magic needs to keep it secret. What I can tell you is that Dumbledore and I have been actively promoting this event to proceed smoothly. Some time ago, we two in the International Confederation of Wizards(I.C.W) persuaded a party that was ready to participate in the event to put the venue in Ho-, Uh, in Britain!"

    The professors looked at each other, and finally, Professor Flitwick squeaked. "If you mean the World Cup, Minister-"

    "It has nothing to do with that, Filius, it''s. Oh, anyway, in a few months, there will probably be newsing out. I guarantee, you will be surprised!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0220 Hogsmeade

    0220 Hogsmeade

    The snow drifted down like soft, white plumes, enveloping the world in fog. Thendscape was a blur of grey and white, and the only sound was the muffled crunch of boots on the frozen ground.

    The cold north wind sliced through their clothes like a de, and every time someone came in or out, the cold wind that poured into the pub from the door caused people to exim in unison. They shivered and wrapped their cloaks tighter around them, seeking warmth andfort in the cozy atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks.

    Fudge showed a rare quality like a high-ranking official of the Ministry of Magic. He kept his mouth shut and refused to reveal anything, regardless of how Professor Flitwick and Hagrid tried to pry.

    <em>''Then why did you say it?''</em> Bryan sighed inwardly, thinking that he was just showing off his superiority.

    "I think you have heard the hearts of the ordinary people, Minister."

    Fudge was the kind of politician who could talk to you all day without getting to the core of the problem. He was good at spinning words and avoiding responsibility, but he was not good at solving issues or making decisions. Bryan didn''t want to spend the whole afternoon with Fudge in a contest of ''art ofnguage''. He wanted to get to the point and discuss the matters that concerned him the most. So, after the mysterious event topic ended, he said bluntly,

    "Minister, I have heard Professor Dumbledore say that the Ministry of Magic had sworn that those Dementors would not break into Hogwarts and disturb the normal learning life of the young wizards, unless they found ck. But you see-"

    He spread his hands innocently. "Reality is always worse than we expected." He said with a hint of usation in his voice, making Fudge squirm in his seat.

    "Yes, yes¨C" Under the gaze of several professors, Fudge subconsciously wanted to wipe his forehead. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, and he wished he could escape from this awkward situation. But when he raised his hand, he realized that he was not talking to Dumbledore. He awkwardly picked up the cup and took a sip of the red currant rum in the cup to ease his mood.

    ''<em>Oh, well, another difficult guy!</em>'' He thought as he put down the cup. He sneaked a nce at Bryan''s calm and purple eyes. The previous two experiences made Fudge mistakenly think that Bryan would be a young wizard who was friendly to the Ministry of Magic.

    The negotiation on whether to keep the Dementors was notplicated. Bryan and Professor McGonagall''s real demands were simple: to control the number of Dementors and require them to take turns. This way, they could effectively prevent the Dementors from being too hungry and rushing into Hogwarts to kill.

    Fudge easily agreed to this. He knew that he had no choice but toply, since he had no authority over Hogwarts or Dumbledore. The Dementors sent by the Ministry of Magic caused trouble first was only one of the factors. Bryan and his amazing monitoring device also made him feel less anxious.

    Meanwhile, more students came into the room, and the pub was noisy. They wereughing and chatting, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking ce in the corner.

    And there seemed to be something wrong with the kettle on the firece shelf. They were holding their stomachs and coughing, spraying hot water from the spout, which sshed into the burning fire, making the whole pub smoky. It was a prank by Fred and George Weasley, who had slipped some of their joke products into the kettle. They watched from a distance, snickering and high-fiving each other.

    "Uh, Dumbledore''s whereabouts¨C" After finishing the Dementor issue, the remaining concern was Dumbledore''s whereabouts.

    "I can''t answer that for you," Fudge slurred his words as he muttered. He was feeling the effects of the rum, and was losing hisposure. "Dumbledore wrote me a letter before he left Hogwarts, telling me he had to go out for a while. And as soon as I heard the news, I immediately found him. He can''t just leave me alone to deal with the endless problems of the International Confederation of Wizards!" Heined, sounding more like a child than a minister.

    What Fudge was trying to hide made everyone curious. Except for the reserved Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick and Hagrid started to ask around again. Fudge obviously knew that if he revealed a bit here, probably, by tomorrow evening, the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest would hear the wind. So, he just smiled and talked nonsense, not willing to say anything.

    Bryan did not join this topic. Not knowing from when, his expression became a bit strange, and he looked a bit absent-minded. His eyes were not on the few people in the conversation, but asionally nced at the outside of the door.

    A while ago, he suddenly felt that Harry, who he had marked, appeared in Hogsmeade and entered his mark sensing range. He stayed in a ce for a few minutes, then quickly came to his side. And when he approached the Three Broomsticks, Bryan also sensed the two familiar magical powers that apanied him.

    "Excuse me, everyone¨C" Hagrid was trying to ask Fudge and the officials of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures to say hello and ask them to be lenient with Buckbeak, when Bryan suddenly got up and interrupted him.

    "Miss Rosmerta''s tea leaves are probably not very fresh. Please allow me to leave for a while¨C" Saying that, he left his seat and walked quickly to the inside.

    <strong>Ding-dong-dong!</strong> The pub door swung open with a bang, and two heads quickly peeked in through the crack. The swirling smoke made the already dim pub vision even worse.

    Harry looked around with interest, while trying to avoid bumping into the bustling crowd. He could smell the aroma of roasted chestnuts, spiced cider, and firewhiskey, mixed with the scent of pine and candles. Because they couldn''t show their faces openly, they chose a hidden spot, between the window and a beautiful Christmas tree, so no one would notice it. The window was covered with frost, and the tree was decorated with glittering baubles, tinsel, and fairy lights. It was a cozy and festive corner, perfect for hiding and spying.

    "It''s really lively here!" Ron went to get drinks. And Harry sat next to Hermione, happily saying, "I don''t think anyone will notice me. What do you think, Hermione?"

    "No way, Harry!" Hermione said with a snap. "You''ve already taken a big risk. I won''t let you take off your invisibility cloak." She looked around nervously, as if expecting someone to spot them at any moment.

    "I-, I didn''t mean that, Hermione¨C" Harry, who was caught in his thoughts, said reluctantly. But then, his eyes were attracted by the steaming butterbeer on the table of a few older students next to him. He had only tasted this delicious drink once,st year due to Professor Watson''s ss, when he defeated the Inferi that night. Fred and George got it for everyone.

    Two minutester, Ron came back with three identical cups of butterbeer. But when he passed a certain position, his hurried footsteps suddenly stumbled, and his happy expression turned to fright. He nearly dropped the drinks, as he saw who was sitting at the table near the firece.

    "What''s wrong, Ron?" Harry, who had been staring at him, asked inexplicably. "The professors are there, Harry. Hide quickly, don''t give yourself away!"

    Harry''s body moved faster than his brain. As soon as he heard Ron say that, instinct drove him to slide under the table. And because he couldn''t see Harry''s movements, Ron stood there stupidly, using his body to block the possible line of sight from that position.

    He tried to act casual, as he ced the drinks on the table, and sat down next to Hermione. He hoped Harry was well hidden, and that the professors wouldn''te over to talk to them. He knew they would be in big trouble if they were caught.

    "I told you!" Hermione lowered her voice and said angrily. "I had a feeling something might go wrong. And usually when I feel that way, things are always right!" She red at Ron, as if ming him for their predicament. She wished they had stayed in the castle, or at least chosen a less conspicuous ce to visit.

    "Don''t make such a fuss, Hermione¨C" After sitting down, Ron''s heart was no longer beating so fast. He said indifferently, "They can''t see Harry, can they?"

    With Ron''s hint, Hermione and Harry finally noticed that the Minister of Magic and several professors were not far from them. Harry''s most feared Gryffindor head of house was also there. He recognized Professor McGonagall, with her stern face and tartan hat, sitting next to Fudge, who was wearing a pinstriped suit and a lime-green bowler hat.

    "I can only say you''re lucky, Harry." Hermione took out her wand and whispered ''Transfiguration'' to the Christmas tree, so that it could better cover Harry under the table. "You should be d that Professor Watson is not here. Your invisibility cloak can''t fool his eyes!"

    <em>''This is fun!''</em> Harry thought so.

    And then, a pair of dazzling green stilettos appeared in his line of sight. The owner of the shoes stepped on the Minister of Magic''s striped cloak on the ground and giggled. She was a tall and curvy woman, with long blonde hair and red lips. She wore a tight green dress that matched her shoes, and a fur coat that draped over her shoulders. She had a tray of drinks in her hands, and a smile on her face. She was Miss Rosmerta, thendy of the Three Broomsticks, and one of the most popr women in Hogsmeade.

    "Do you need some more, Minister?" Miss Rosmerta asked as she poured Fudge another full ss of wine.

    "Let''s have some more, dear!" Fudge raised his voice, feeling tipsy. "I just came back from Paris, and tomorrow I have to get back to troubl-, ahem work. It''s rare to have some free time." He took a sip of his wine, and sighed.

    "Big shots are always busy," Miss Rosmerta said. "By the way, is there any new progress in the Ministry? I mean, on the hunt for ck."

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 0221 Talks

    0221 Talks

    In the cozy and crowded Three Broomsticks pub, Fudge and several Hogwarts staff members were having a private conversation, but they were not as discreet as they thought. Their voices were muffled by the noise of the other customers, but they could still be heard by anyone who paid close attention. Harry, Ron and Hermione were not the only ones who were eavesdropping on them. The other students sitting nearby were also listening secretly, pretending to be busy with their drinks and snacks.

    Some of them had rtives in high positions in the Ministry of Magic, and they kept silent because they already knew the relevant information. Some of them were young wizards who had never heard of these things before, and they tried to act casual, but their open mouths betrayed their curiosity and shock.

    Bryan was actually standing behind Hermione, but he used a little trick to make himself invisible. He had cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, blending in with the background. He looked down at Ron and Hermione, who were speechless with disbelief, and Harry, who was hiding under the table, whose expression gradually changed from astonishment to silence, and finally, his green eyes showed deep hatred.

    Destiny had an amazing inertia. Even though Bryan''s presence had altered many things subtly, there were still many things that followed the original course. Harry finally learned the truth about his parent''s death, just like he did in the original timeline.

    After Professor McGonagall and the others finished talking about ck, Bryan thought for a while. He dodged one person after another and returned to the bar room. He had left a bottle there, containing a Dementor that he had captured and sealed with his magic. Two minutester, he appeared in the pub hall again, as if nothing had happened. He had removed the Disillusionment Charm from himself, and acted normally.

    He nced at Harry, whose expression had changed slightly, and Hermione and Ron, who held their breaths when they saw him. Bryan smiled and walked back to his seat, but he didn''t sit down. He just put the bottle sealed with the Dementor directly into Fudge''s arms, startling him.

    "I''m sorry, everyone, I just remembered that I haven''t cleaned the house I rented in the vige for a while. I have to deal with it before Christmas."

    Bryan said casually, as if he had just given Fudge a harmless gift.Then, He left the Three Broomsticks pub without dy.

    Only an hour or two had passed, and the path between Hogsmeade and Hogwarts was covered with ayer of snow nearly a foot thick. It was still early, but there were not many young wizards who went to Hogsmeade for the weekend. Most of them had returned to the school, as the weather was too cold and windy for their liking.

    Bryan walked alone in the snow, thinking quietly. He wondered if Harry woulde overter and ask him if he knew anything about his parents, or about ck, and how should he "tactfully"fort him.

    "Everything is normal in the school, Professor Watson!" When asked if anything had happened, Bryan''s loyal subordinate, the Hogwarts castle caretaker Filch, sniffed and said respectfully.

    The ancient castle still looked magnificent, but in fact, it had suffered from the wear and tear of time. The huge amount of money consumed by daily teaching made the funds allocated by the board of directors insufficient, and there was not much money to repair the castle. So, when winter came, the corridors of the school were always leaking, and the temperature was not much different from the outside.

    The house-elves, who worked as the servants of the school, tried their best to keep the castle clean and warm, but they could not do much against the harsh weather.

    Although the wizards with high magic power were not too sensitive to the cold and heat, Bryan still felt his hands and feet a bit stiff after walking in the open air for a while. So, he changed his mind about going to Lupin and asking about Harry''s progress in Patronus.

    He snapped his fingers and lit the fire in the firece. Bryan warmed his hands while casually looking at the monitor screens on the wall.

    The cold weather drove the young wizards who loved to wander back to themon rooms. Only in the library, there were many fifth-year students preparing for the ''school exam''.

    On the top floor of the west tower, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle came out of the Owlery . The expressions on their faces were a bit stiff. Bryan watched them silently as they walked down the tower, passed the armor corridor, and finally entered the Slytherin dungeon from the other side of the foyer on the first floor.

    "They haven''t got rid of the trouble yet?" Bryan muttered to himself curiously.

    After a little hesitation, he remembered Professor Snape''s warning and decided not to interfere for the time being.

    Things did not go as he expected. He thought that Harry would rush back to the castle and ask him if he knew the truth after he learned that his parents were killed by ck''s betrayal, but Harry did not do that. Bryan just asionally observed him through the monitor For several days, Harry had a gloomy face wherever he went. He barely spoke to anyone, and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

    Another week passed. Now, there were only two weeks left until the end of the term. Dumbledore''s absence did not affect the festive mood in the school. Professor Flitwick, who taught the charm ss, had already decorated his ssroom with colorful lights. They would turn into real fairies, pping their wings and flying around in the ssroom.

    He did not know why, but Hagrid suddenly asked for a few days off from him and Professor McGonagall. So, the task of creating a festive atmosphere for the hall naturally fell on Bryan. Filch could be ordered, but he did not have magic spells, and he was not very good at doing this kind of work.

    As the holiday approached, the professors also hoped to let the students rx a bit before Christmas. So, on Friday night, the little ones who did not have much homework ran around the castle. Or rather, they made trouble. One moment, someone threw a few dung eggs in the bathroom on a certain floor, creating a foul smell and a mess. Another moment, a young wizard who provoked Peeves, the poltergeist, was locked in the armor, and had to scream for help. Another moment, a first-year wizard who was not familiar with the moving stairs in the castle identally stepped on the air and broke his arm. In short, Filch''s furious roar echoed throughout the Hogwarts main castle all night.

    In order to avoid Filch, who would barge into his office every once in a while, Bryan ran to the library where there were not many people before the festival.

    The library was a huge and quiet room, filled with thousands of books on various topics and subjects. It was guarded by Madam Pince, the librarian, who was a thin and sour-faced woman, who treated the books as if they were her children.

    But here, he unexpectedly found the three little ones who were buried in a pile of books. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting at a table, surrounded by books and papers. They looked tired and frustrated, as they searched for something in the books.

    "This is not right¨C" Bryan smacked his tongue and said, "If it was just Miss Granger, I wouldn''t be too surprised, but you three actually appeared in the library together?" He teased them, as he knew that Ron and Harry did not like to study, and they often relied on Hermione for homework.

    "It''s for Hagrid, Professor Watson¨C" Hermione said, as she looked up at him with a serious and determined face. She was holding a quill in her hand, and she had a parchment in front of her, where she had written some notes and arguments.

    Since Bryan no longer served as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he had met these little guys much less often, especially Hermione and Ron. Apart from asionally greeting each other, they hadn''t spoken personally with Professor Watson for a month or two. So, when facing his question, Hermione and Ron were both a bit awkward.

    "The Ministry of Magic has decided to formally ept Lucius Malfoy''swsuit application. The trial date is in April next year. We want to help him-"

    Hermione''s eyes were red, but her eyes showed resentment when she looked at him. Bryan understood that this girl probably med him for not doing anything even though he was Hagrid''s nominal boss.

    So that''s how it was. No wonder Hagrid was depressed when he asked for leave that day. He asked him a few questions, but Hagrid did not want to say. Probably, he did not want to bother him.

    "So, you want to help Hagrid prepare a defense statement?" Bryan nced at those gray files and asked.

    The files were the official documents that the Ministry of Magic had sent to Hagrid, informing him of thewsuit and the trial.

    After getting an affirmative answer, he nodded. "Hagrid should be grateful to have you as his loyal friends." He said, and then walked past them, ready to go to the direction of the restricted area.

    Ron whispered to Hermione to shut up, but Hermione was obviously not very happy with Professor Watson''s statement. She red at him, ready to question him why he did not care about his subordinates, and why he did not do anything to help Hagrid. She was about to open her mouth, but at this time, Harry, who looked depressed, suddenly spoke up.

    "Professor Watson!" Harry said, as he raised his voice.

    Bryan smiled at Harry, and he asked him, in a warm and friendly tone, "What''s wrong, Potter, what''s the matter?"

    "You know those things, don''t you?"

    At this moment, Ron and Hermione both gave Harry a look, hoping he would be quiet, but Harry ignored their hints. The flickering torches on the wall reflected in his green eyes. He gasped and asked.

    "I mean, my parents were killed by Voldemort because of ck''s betrayal. You knew this all along, didn''t you? Because you''ve been hunting down that filthy traitor!"

    Harry''s voice was loud and angry. There were not many students in the library, but those who were there heard him say Voldemort''s name and were terrified. Some of them fell off their stools andnded on the floor, staring at him with horror.

    <strong>Fuu</strong>¨C "Let''s talk in my office¨C" Bryan said with a sigh.

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 0222 Sirius-Black

    0222 Sirius-ck

    Bryan led Hermione, Ron, and Harry, who had calmed down a bit after the cold wind had numbed their senses, through the winding corridors adorned with festive holly and mistletoe ribbons. He proudly told the three young wizards that he had made these decorations himself.

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Professor Watson to his office on the third floor, feeling a mix of curiosity and dread. They knew this ce well, unlike most of the other students, who rarely got a chance to see the inside of the Ex-DADA teacher''sir.

    Professor Watson''s office looked the same as always, except for a new set of plush sofas and wooden coffee tables at the far end of the door side, where there used to be nothing but empty space. The furniture made the office seem less shabby and more cozy, as if inviting them to sit and chat.

    Outside the window, the snow was still pristine white, and snowkes like fluffy dandelions floated in the air, gentlynding on the window sill. The temperature kept dropping, and the sky had not cleared for a week, making the days gloomy and short. The surface of the huge ckke was covered with a thinyer of ice, and it would probably freeze over soon, trapping the giant squid and the Mer-people underneath.

    "Let''s get to the point, Harry." Bryan said, breaking the silence. He invited them to sit down on the new sofas, took out his wand, and threw a ball of fire to light the firece. Then he sat on the sofa by the wall, facing them.

    "Are you ming me for not telling you the truth?" He asked, his voice calm but stern.

    Ron and Hermione sat on Harry''s left and right, under Professor Watson''s piercing gaze. They did not dare to move, but they tried to remind Harry not to be too impulsive with their eyes and nudges. They knew how much this topic hurt Harry, and how angry he was with everyone who kept him in the dark.

    "You-, I mean, everyone seems to think that I don''t need to know these things." Harry said, his voice trembling with anger.

    He knew he should be calm, because Professor Watson had not killed his parents. But when Professor Watson asked him bluntly, Harry''s heart burst into mes, burning him all over. He raised his head abruptly, staring at Professor Watson''s purple eyes, which seemed to see through him.

    "My parents died at the hands of his best friend, and now that person wants to break into Hogwarts and kill me. But-"

    Harry gasped, feeling a lump in his throat. "Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, the Ministry of Magic, and you. Everyone thinks I don''t need to know all this."

    "Harry." Hermione said softly, winking at him anxiously. But Harry ignored her.

    "Do you know what I hear when the Dementorse near me, Professor? I hear my mother screaming, begging Voldemort. She wasn''t begging for herself, but for me. And their fate was because they trusted a-"

    He didn''t spat out thest word, as if it tasted bitter in his mouth.

    "Brother, we''ve talked about this before, and ck will get what he deserves, I promise!" Ron said, speaking up bravely. He noticed that Professor Watson''s eyes had darkened, as if a storm was brewing in them.

    Hermione was in tears, clutching Harry''s arm.

    Harry almost shouted those words. He thought Professor Watson would defend himself, give some noble reasons, or say someforting words like Hermione and Ron. But he didn''t. Professor Watson just looked at him coldly.

    "If I understood you correctly-" Bryan''s tone was chilly, the same tone he used when he was the Viper.

    "You want to kill ck with your own hands, don''t you?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

    Ron had asked this question before, and Harry had not answered before Hermione interrupted him. Now, facing this question again, Harry''s heart was on fire. He ignored Hermione''s soft plea, and said stubbornly, "Yes, Professor, if I can do that!"

    Bryanughed, his smile cold and mocking. He looked at Harry, who didn''t know how high the sky was. He nodded slightly, as if he had expected this answer.

    "Even if you know, you''re no match for ck. Even if you know, your reckless action will only waste your parent''s sacrifice and cost you your life."

    He said coldly, his words like ice, cutting Harry''s heart.

    Harry''s eyes wavered for a moment, but he still said defiantly, "At least, my parents wouldn''t want their son to be a coward."

    "Very good!" Bryan said, standing up, expressionless. His whole body radiated a strong pressure. In the void, magic stirred up a storm, a storm that only the most dangerous wizards could unleash. Even the zing fire in the firece flickered under this immense pressure, on the verge of being extinguished.

    A subtle but deadly aura swept through the room, a murderous aura that only the most ruthless wizards could emanate. The room that had been warm turned cold as Bryan leaned forward slightly. This small movement made Ron and Hermione, who were already stiff, feel their scalps go numb. Their hair crackled with static electricity, and they had hallucinations. They both saw a monstrous snake lower its ferocious head, spreading its wings that blocked the sun, ready to strike.

    "Don''t-" Hermione''s tears rolled down her cheeks, and she whispered weakly, as if she had no strength left.

    At this moment, she thought that Harry, who was so stubborn and reckless, had angered Professor Watson beyond repair. And now, this powerful wizard, who might have no match in Hogwarts or the wizarding world, was going to kill Harry in cold blood.

    <em>''What should I do?''</em>

    Ron was about to faint, his face as white as a sheet. Harry was shaky under Professor Watson''s fury, his eyes wide with fear and defiance. And only Hermione could still think, her mind racing for a solution.

    <em>''Time turner!''</em>

    Hermione suddenly thought of this device, which she had used to attend more sses. She wanted to use it to go back in time, to change the course of events. She could stop them from going to the library that night, or she could warn Professor McGonagall, who might have been able to intervene.

    She knew that doing this might cause a huge disaster, a paradox that could alter the timeline of the world. But she couldn''t think of any other way to stop Professor Watson, who seemed ready to kill someone, or worse.

    Hermione clenched her teeth, raised her hand shakily, reaching for the time turner hidden under her robes. But Bryan nced at her, and his cold eyes pierced her soul, making her body tremble. Even her breath was frozen, as if she was under a freezing charm.

    Bryan raised his right arm with the wand, and pointed it at the firece and then at a mannequin in a corner of the room. The red-hot firewood spun in the air and sprinkled brilliant sparks, turning into a dagger that fell into his hand with a tter. The other mannequin hovered in the air beside him and transformed, as if by a transfiguration spell.

    A few secondster, a man appeared, and they recognized his cruel face. Harry, Hermione, and Ron all felt as if a cold hand had gripped their hearts, squeezing them painfully.

    It was Sirius ck!

    Harry swore he would never forget this face, no matter how long he lived. It was the same as the one on the Muggle TV news and the wizard''s wanted order, which he had seen countless times. The man had a gaunt and haggard face, as if he had suffered a lot. His hair was dirty and tangled, hanging over his forehead. And his cracked lips were below two rows of dark yellow teeth, which looked like rotten wood.

    He was wearing the dirty prison clothes of Azkaban, the ck and white stripes that marked him as a criminal. And he was so thin that one could count his ribs, as if he had not eaten for days. He looked like a skeleton a walking corpse.

    ''ck'' took the dagger from Bryan''s hand, circled the coffee table, and approached Harry step by step, with bloodthirsty excitement in his gloomy eyes. He looked like a predator, stalking his prey.

    ''ck'' reversed the dagger, pointed the sharp de at himself, and handed the handle to Harry. His mouth cracked open, almost like a boggart.

    "If you want to avenge your parents, Potter-" ''ck''s hoarse voice was like grinding dry bat corpses in Professor Snape''s ss, the sound that made Harry''s skin crawl. He grinned ferociously, showing his rotten teeth.

    "Then kill me, just use this dagger to aim at my neck, and stab it hard."

    He moved closer to Harry, as if he was inviting him to do it. Harry retreated subconsciously, but he forgot that there was a sofa behind him. He fell on his butt, and the fear in his eyes overwhelmed the hatred.

    "Use this dagger to stab my neck, Potter, and let my blood ssh all over you. Come on, I''m waiting for you to do it." ''ck'' taunted him, as if he wanted to provoke him.

    "No" Harry kept shrinking back, shaking his head, and avoiding the dagger desperately. His cheeks were pale as the snow on the yground, and his lips were trembling.

    "Stop it!" Hermione cried out, covering her face. She did not dare to look at ''ck'' who was approaching Harry.

    Suddenly, the thick oppressive aura in the office was gone. The firewood in the firece was burning again, and the warmth quickly dispelled the cold. It was as if the whole world had be bright and normal again.

    ''ck'' and the dagger turned into a few wisps of slowly falling ashes, as if they had never existed.

    Bryan tilted his head, looking at Harry who had gone stupid, and smiled slightly,

    "Where is your courage, Potter?"

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 0223 Secrets

    0223 Secrets

    "Where is your courage, Potter?"

    When Professor Watson uttered these words, Hermione let out a sigh of relief, feeling a heavy burden lift from her shoulders. She finally understood that Professor Watson was not going to kill them, but just wanted to teach Harry a valuable lesson in his own unconventional way.

    Harry realized this too, but his lips were dry and pale, and he couldn''t utter a word. He looked like a lost soul, wandering in the dark.

    ''<em>Yes, where is my courage?''</em>

    Harry asked himself, his thoughts racing. He had thought that his hatred for ck would make him disregard everything and take a life at all costs, but he found out that he was not as brave as he had imagined. He didn''t even have the courage to kill a fake ck, a mere illusion created using a dummy.

    "I''m sorry, Harry, I misled you."

    Professor Watson, who sat down calmly on a nearby chair, said with a gentle smile, making Harry stunned. He stared nkly at the powerful young professor, who made him feel no resistance, and didn''t understand why he apologized. Professor Watson had already taught him a harsh lesson, one that he would never forget.

    "I guess, you must be resenting yourself in your heart for being a cowardly little wizard, who doesn''t have the courage to kill a fake person made of dummy." Bryan''s sharp eyes saw through Potter''s inner turmoil.

    "But in fact, I misled you, Harry. Killing a person, taking away a person''s life, never depends on courage."

    Hearing this, Harry''s green eyes flickered, and he regained some vitality. He looked at Professor Watson with curiosity and confusion. Bryan''s eyes swept over the three little wizards, who were somewhat stunned by his words, and his voice was calm and steady.

    "The reason why you didn''t kill the fake person just now was not cowardice, but kindness, Harry, Hermione and Ron. You three are very kind wizards, who don''t want to deprive the lives of any living being. I bet, even for ck, who is extremely wicked and has a blood feud with you, in the depths of your hearts, you just hope that he can go back to Azkaban and continue to be imprisoned." He paused, and then added, "Or maybe, you hope that he can redeem himself, and prove that he is not the traitor that everyone thinks he is."

    "But what''s wrong with that, Professor Watson?" Hermione''s thin body swayed, and her cheeks were pale. She felt a surge of emotion in her chest, and she spoke with a trembling voice. "The followers of You-Know-Who, those wizards who are called Death Eaters, they have hurt many people, they have killed many people, but the Ministry of Magic only imprisons them in Azkaban."

    Hermione felt suffocated, and she couldn''t go on, but she still insisted on saying. She wanted to defend thew, thew that she believed in.

    "Thew does not allow the death penalty, professor, that was abolished long ago. We can''t take justice into our own hands, we have to respect thew."

    "Law?" Bryan sneered, ready to say something, but considering that Harry and the others were just underage children, whose world was just this fairy-tale castle, Bryan shook his head. He decided not to shatter their innocence, not yet.

    "As a young wizard who has not graduated yet, Potter, you have to understand that the gap between you and an adult wizard with outstanding magic skills is insurmountable. I remember I once shared my opinion with you three¡ªpower is power, it is a pure thing, no matter love or hate, or courage, they can''t make your power increase by leaps and bounds in an instant. So, the result of you going to find ck for revenge is to make so many people who worry about your life and health suffer in vain, including your parent''s sacrifice."

    The long silence that followed made Harry feel extremely tormented, and Ron, who had recovered his breath,forted him sincerely. "I always thought that you didn''t have to be a murderer for that kind of scum, Harry." He patted Harry''s shoulder, and said, "You are better than that, mate."

    "Harry will never be a murderer, right!" Hermione also said nervously, she was afraid that Harry, who was stubborn, would say something that would anger Professor Watson, so she leaned over and grabbed Harry''s sweaty but cold hand.

    "I will be careful, Professor Watson." Harry, who had clenched his lips tightly, said in a hoarse voice.

    "Then, can I assume?" Bryan''s voice suddenly became cheerful, as if he had forgotten the tense atmosphere. He smiled brightly, and said, "I will never see you wearing that magical invisibility cloak, sneaking out to the Three Broomsticks to steal drinks?"

    "You really saw it, Professor Watson!" Harry, Hermione, and Ron eximed in unison, their faces turning red.

    Hermione red at Ron fiercely, as if she wanted to burn him with her eyes. Her words seemed to express surprise, but her tone did not. It was clear that they had guessed about this in private.

    "Oh, not stealing, professor¨C" Ron said weakly, avoiding Hermione''s eyes. He knew that she hated lying, especially to their teachers.

    "I paid for Harry''s butterbeer." He added hastily, hoping that it would make a difference.

    Harry was also startled, because he had agreed with Ron when they discussed this issue in private before. They both thought that the Three Broomsticks was so noisy and crowded that day that Professor Watson might not even notice them wearing the invisibility cloak, let alone Hermione and Ron, who were sitting at a corner table.

    "Professor Dumbledore seems to have told you¨C" Bryan added another sentence, out of precaution. He wanted to make sure that they understood the danger of their actions.

    "Invisibility spells, invisibility cloaks and the like don''t work in front of Dementors. You must have noticed that there are Dementors at the school gate again. They are guarding the entrance, looking for ck. But ording to the result of my consultation with the Ministry of Magic, the Ministry has reduced the number of Dementors dispatched. They have realized that they are causing more harm than good, affecting the students and the teachers. So, you are absolutely not allowed to use the invisibility cloak to sneak out of the school gate!"He said firmly, emphasizing thest sentence.

    This made the expressions of the three change subtly, especially Hermione, whose face tightened suddenly. She bit her lip, and nced at Harry and Ron nervously.

    Hermione and Ron both knew that Harry hadn''t left the school gate at all, but used the magical map of Fred and George, the Marauder''s Map.

    "You." Bryan narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. He sensed that there was something more to their story, something that they did not want to reveal.Even without using the magic of Legilimency, the art of reading minds, he could see the changes in the expressions of the three little ones.

    "It seems that you have hidden something important?"

    He asked, in a tone that was not a question, but a statement. He looked at them with a stern and prating gaze, that made them feel ufortable and exposed.

    They were still third-graders after all. When faced with pressure, their way of coping was too immature. They just looked at each other twice, and then Ron and Harry lowered their heads. Their eyes fixed on the ground and refused to move.

    Only Hermione seemed to want to say something, hesitantly. She was torn between her loyalty to Harry and Ron, and her respect for Professor Watson. She knew that lying was wrong, but she also knew that telling the truth could have serious consequences.

    "Professor¨C"

    Under Professor Watson''s eyes, Hermione finally took a deep breath, after hesitating for a long time. She decided to tell a partial truth, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy him.

    "Harry. He is not-"

    Harry and Ron looked at Hermione nervously, and raised their heads suddenly.

    <em>''Don''t tell him about the map!''</em> Hermione knew what Harry and Ron wanted to shout, through their eyes. She could see the panic and the pleading in their faces.

    <em>''This is for your own good, Harry¨C''</em>

    Hermione also responded firmly to Harry with her eyes.

    "Actually, Harry, he, um, identally found a secret passage when he was walking around the castle. He was curious and went in. When he came out, he identally found himself in Hogsmeade."

    Hermione was evasive, hiding the truth not to keep the magical map, but to avoid implicating Fred and George.

    Hermione didn''t tell everything, which made Harry and Ron sigh with relief, but their faces didn''t improve much. Because now there was only one secret passage that could be used to sneak out of Hogwarts, and since Hermione had said it, Professor Watson would surely seal it off to prevent ck from entering the castle.

    "Secret passage?" Bryan''s expression became serious suddenly. He was surprised and rmed by Hermione''s revtion.

    "Secret passage, But Argus told me that the four secret passages in the school had all been sealed by him?" He asked, his voice doubtful and suspicious.

    "I think¨C" Under Professor Watson''s fierce gaze, who had just shown his power, Harry couldn''t keep silent. He felt that he had to say something, to support Hermione''s lie, to make it more convincing. He followed Hermione''s lead, and said bravely, hoping that Professor Watson would believe him.

    "I think¡­ I must have identally found a secret passage that Filch didn''t know about."

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0224 Mistakes

    0224 Mistakes

    The moment Harry uttered the words that he might have discovered a hidden passage that Filch was unaware of, Bryan felt a surge of dread and realization. He and everyone else in the school, including the ''wise'' Headmaster, had overlooked a crucial w in their security measures against ck''s invasion.

    On the night they had returned to Hogwarts for the new term, Bryan had instructed Filch to seal off all the secret passages that led to the outside of the castle. Filch had assured him that the four known passages that connected the castle to the outside world had been thoroughly blocked by him and the other professors, and that there was no chance of anyone getting in through them.

    But such an answer would create a false impression, making one think that there were only four passages that could be used to enter or exit the castle. In reality, after a thousand years of Hogwarts'' existence, who could tell how many clever and adventurous people had constructed how many hidden tunnels and corridors in the castle?

    Perhaps ck and his friends had dug some secret routes when they were students at Hogwarts. Oh, but that was unlikely, because Remus would have known about them. He was the only one of ck''s close friends from school who was still alive, unless ck had been plotting this scheme since then. Otherwise, he would not have kept it a secret from Remus.

    "Professor¨C" Harry and Ron were shooting furious res at Hermione, but Hermione did not think she had done anything wrong. She met their eyes with a defiant expression, and said to the motionless and pensive Watson professor.

    "Do you also think that ck managed to sneak into Hogwarts through those passages?"

    "That''s impossible, Hermione!" Ron snapped, giving up on the idea of keeping that precious passage to themselves. "When ck broke into Hogwarts, Hogsmeade was swarming with Dementors. He couldn''t have possibly slipped into the Honeyduke''s basement, could he?!"

    Bryan, who was lost in his thoughts, briefly snapped out of them and nced at Ron. These youngsters always had a bad habit of taking things for granted,

    ck might not have used the same passage that Harry had taken, but Bryan was fairly certain that he must have known some secret passage that no one else was aware of. That was how, on the night of the Halloween feast, he was able to infiltrate Hogwarts without being detected, and quickly escaped after finding that he could not get into the Gryffindormon room.

    Thinking of this, Bryan felt a mix of annoyance and amusement that so many people were anxious about ck''s whereabouts, but these three kids had somehow stumbled upon the vital clues.

    "Besides this passage, Harry" Bryan felt like he could hear the pleasant sound of 50,000 Galleons clinking in his ears. He stared at Harry with a serious and righteous look and said.

    "You also know the information of those passages. I hope you can tell me the truth, Harry, after all. This is about whether I can capture ck and bring him to justice as soon as possible!"

    "As far as I know¨C" Harry had no intention of lying. He only wanted to prevent Watson from finding out about that amazing map. Not only because Harry wanted to keep it for himself, but also because if Watson found out about it, he would trace the origin of the map, and then Fred and George would be in trouble.

    "Seven in total¨C" Harry said honestly, and this also made Hermione, who was tense, breathe a sigh of relief. She was wondering in her mind, if Harry lied again, whether she should expose him again.

    "But only one can be used, because four of them have been sealed off by Filch, and the other two, one has copsed, and thest one''s entrance is at the Whomping Willow. No one can get past that tree alive."

    "That''s what you think, Harry." Bryan said, and after pondering for a while, he asked again. "Is this all the passages you know, right? You didn''t try to conceal any passages, trying to leave yourself a way out?"

    Harry could answer this question with a clear conscience.

    The Trio knew that Watson''s ''eyes'' were everywhere in the Hogwarts castle, so they kept silent and avoided eye contact on the way back from the office at the third floor to the Gryffindor tower. They did not want to give away any hint of their secret knowledge or their disagreement.

    They only spoke when they stepped into themon room, which was empty and quiet at thiste hour.

    "I can''t believe it, Hermione!"

    Ron was seething with resentment. He exploded immediately, ring at Hermione, who had anticipated his anger, but still looked defiant. He said angrily,

    "You betrayed us!"

    "Oh, don''t shout, Ron!" Hermione''s brown pupils shed with a strong light. Compared to the matter of Scabbers, she was quite confident about tonight''s ''report''. She felt that she had done the right thing by telling Professor the truth.

    They still sat by the firece and warmed themselves by the fire. Ron took out a bottle of butterbeer from the gap between the back of an old cupboard and the wall in themon room. This was their private stash from thest time they had visited Hogsmeade.

    "Don''t you see, Ron," Hermione took out her Arithmancy homework from her bag and wrote it as fast as if she didn''t need to think.

    "Professor Watson and I have the same opinion and we all know that he probably won''t be able to go to bed tonight. He will definitely check the remaining passages overnight to see if there are any traces of a criminal passing through recently."

    In this cold weather, the cold drink couldn''t go down. So Ron used his best floating charm to control the three ss cups filled with beer and roast them on the golden fire for a while.

    "This only shows one thing, that even a powerful wizard like Professor Watson sometimes has a cloudy brain."

    When arguing about the right and wrong of something, Hermione always showed this arrogant attitude, which Ron had almost had enough of. He hated how she always acted like she knew better than everyone else.

    "I''d like to see how ck sneaked in from the remaining three passages. It couldn''t be Honeyduke, could it? Otherwise we would have attended Fred and George''s funeral by now. And the copsed one, Forgive me for being blunt, Hermione, but I think that if Fred and George couldn''t get through the copsed passage, then ck probably wouldn''t be better than them in this respect!"

    Hermione''s feather pen, which was almost leaving a shadow in her hand, stopped for a moment. She bit her lip and said, "There''s one more."

    "If-!"

    Ron rolled his eyes, looking helpless. He knew what she was going to say, and he thought it was ridiculous.

    "If you and I had flown to Hogwarts with Harry in the car on the first day of the second year, then you would know that no one could ever get past that Whomping Willow without leaving some body parts behind."

    He remembered how the tree had smashed their car and nearly killed them. He shuddered at the thought of anyone trying to get past it on foot.

    "At least Professor Watson thinks¨C" Hermione wanted to say something, but Harry, who was a bit hit tonight, suddenly interrupted.

    "The premise is that you have to have a wand to do it."

    The butterbeer was bubbling with hot bubbles. Ron moved the hot ss cup to the table, made an inviting gesture to Harry, and then raised his chin unhappily at Hermione.

    "Harry is right, the premise is that ck has to get himself a wand. You don''t think Neville''s lost wand was due to ck, do you? Don''t forget, when ck broke into the castlest time, Neville''s wand hadn''t been lost yet."

    He thought that Hermione was being paranoid and illogical. He couldn''t believe that she would suspect poor Neville of anything.

    Hermione had nothing to say, but still frowned, trying to think of how to refute Ron. She was not convinced by their arguments. She thought that there must be some way that ck could have used the passages, or else why would Watson be so concerned about them.

    Harry was very tired, this tiredness was not from the body, but from the self-doubt in his mind.

    Every night for a week since he learned the truth about ck''s persecution of his parents, he had been determined to kill ck with the most cruel means he knew if he ever met him. He had dreamed of avenging his parents and making ck pay for his crimes. But tonight Watson told him that killing someone was not that simple.

    Things seemed to go back to the beginning. Harry found that he was really better off not knowing the truth about his parents'' death, so he wouldn''t have to be tormented by his conscience. Now, it seemed that besides hoping that Professor Watson or those evil Dementors would find ck first, he couldn''t do anything. He felt powerless and frustrated.

    But Harry knew he had to interrupt Ron and Hermione''s quarrel, because of Scabbers, they had always had opinions on each other. Even now, they hadn''tpletely let go of their grudges. If they let the topic continue, then the tacit understanding that they had finally built up would be broken again.

    "I think I have to apologize to Fred and George.

    Harry let out a deep sigh, looking crestfallen. "And remind them that the Hunchback Witch''s passage is no longer safe."

    He felt bad for ruining Fred and George''s fun, but he also knew that it was too risky to keep using the passage now that Professor Watson knew about it.

    It was already past ten o''clock at night. The young wizards should have been tucked in their beds, but they had to sneak around and avoid being spotted by Percy, who was on patrol. They prepared to end this not-so-good night.

    "I can go with you, Harry," Ron offered, patting Harry''s shoulder. "We can exin to Fred and George, they should understand that we didn''t mean to expose their secret. And maybe they can help us find out more about the other passages, since they seem to know a lot about the castle."

    "Come on, let''s go now." Ron said, grabbing his cloak and scarf. He was eager to get out of themon room, where Hermione was still giving him a cold look.

    "Are youing, Hermione?" Harry asked, feeling a bit guilty. He knew that Hermione had reported the passage for their own safety.

    "No, I have to finish this homework." Hermione said curtly, without looking up from her parchment. She was still frowning and writing furiously.

    "Suit yourself." Ron muttered, as he and Harry headed for the portrait hole. He gave Hermione onest re, hoping that she would feel sorry for what she had done.

    <strong>Creak-</strong> The noise at the door suddenly interrupted Ron''s thoughts, and also made Harry and Hermione look surprised. They had not expected anyone toe in at this hour. They quickly turned their heads to see who it was.

    "Professor Lupin¨C" Harry was confused and couldn''t understand why the gentle Lupin professor had such a serious expression. He had always liked Lupin, who was kind and helpful to him. He wondered what was wrong.

    "Professor Watson just went to my office and told me some things, and asked me to be alert tonight,"

    Lupin looked at Harry, solemnly saying. "Professor Watson told me that he identally learned from you a few secret passages leading to the outside of the castle. Harry, how did you know the location of these passages so clearly?"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0225 Interrogation

    0225 Interrogation

    "Professor Watson told me that he identally learned from you a few secret passages leading to the outside of the castle. Harry, how did you know the location of these passages so clearly?"

    <em>''This is weird''</em> Harry thought, as he faced Lupin''s interrogation.

    Professor Watson had not asked too much about how he had found those secret passages, but Professor Lupin seemed very concerned after he had learned about it. Even though it was sote, he had actually chased after them to the Gryffindormon room to question him about it.

    Themon room was empty, except for the Trio and Lupin. The fire was crackling in the firece, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The Trio looked at each other confused, not knowing what Professor Lupin was up to.

    "Oh, this¨C" Harry shrugged, trying to look as innocent as possible. "We discovered a few of them ourselves."

    Tonight, Harry had lied to two of his closest professors, but he had no choice. Fred and George had kindly given him the Marauder''s Map, and he couldn''t drag them into trouble. He also couldn''t reveal the existence of the map to Lupin, who might confiscate it or worse, destroy it.

    Lupin''s eyes were sharp as he stared at Harry, unlike his usual gentle manner. He did not choose to believe or deny Harry''s exnation. He just continued to ask, "I think you must have gotten some help from something else, right, Harry?"

    <em>''Did Professor Lupin know about the map?''</em> Harry''s heart suddenly sped up. He felt a surge of panic, and he clenched his fists.

    "I''ll just be frank, Harry." Lupin did not intend to beat around the bush. His pale cheeks were flushed by the fire. He stared at Harry''s green eyes and asked, "Professor Watson told me that among the three secret passages that Filch didn''t know, one of them had an entrance not in the castle, but under the Whomping Willow on the edge of the yground. Please allow me to be confused about this, Harry. I think under normal circumstances, you wouldn''t be likely to know this, right?"

    Ron and Hermione stood behind Professor Lupin when he asked this question. They stared at Harry''s eyes. Their eyes met in mid-air, and they saw the confusion in each other''s eyes.

    <em>''Professor Lupin came to find Harry with great fanfare, just to know this?''</em>

    They couldn''t understand why Lupin was so interested in the secret passage under the Whomping Willow.

    "Uh, because--" Harry frowned, trying to find an excuse to bluff his way through. But Professor Lupin added sternly, "I think the truth you tell me will definitely be the TRUTH, right, Harry?"

    Harry was speechless, unable to continue weaving lies. He felt Lupin''s gaze piercing through him, and he knew he was cornered.

    "Because of that car, professor¨C" Ron plucked up his courage and stepped forward, facing Lupin''s doubtful eyes. He said crisply, "I think you might have heard of that, professor. At the beginning of the second year, Harry and I got to Hogwarts by a flying car."

    "The Prophet reported some of it at the time." Lupin''s eyes shed with memories. He said slowly, "Professor McGonagall also mentioned it to me a few times. She said your car finally crashed into that Whomping Willow."

    <em>''You''re a genius, Ron!''</em> Harry gave Ron a sneaky nce, and Ron read this sentence from it. It also made him more confident. He smiled nervously, and tried to sound remorseful.

    "Oh, yes, professor!" Ron said with a tone of regret, "That was a very painful experience, professor. Harry and I don''t usually like to recall that car incident. That car identally went out of control and hit the Whomping Willow. You know, that tree has a bad temper. We dodged desperately, and finally escaped from its clutches at the cost of breaking two ribs and a wand!"

    Hermione''s cheeks turned red. She was always not used to lying to the professor, although she had done it many times herself. She bit her lip, and tried to look supportive of Ron''s story.

    "So, that was when you found out there was a secret passage there?"

    Lupin''s furrowed brows rxed a bit. Ron''s words sounded reasonable, at least. There was no obvious w. He nodded slowly, and looked at Harry again.

    "Yes, professor!" Ron, whose brain was hyper-active, said. "But we were in a hurry to escape. We didn''t have time to go down and see what it was. We wanted to do itter, but we couldn''t get close to it anymore!"

    He lied again, hoping that Lupin would buy it.

    "Well, that sounds like the truth." Lupin sighed, his shoulders sagged. But before Harry could breathe a sigh of relief, Lupin became serious again. He red at Harry and said.

    "Professor Watson told me thatst week, after you practiced the Patronus Charm with me, you sneaked out of the school gate and ran to Hogsmeade for a drink. To be honest, Harry, I was shocked, because I thought the voice you heard when the Dementors approached you would make you more restrained."

    Harry wanted to exin, but Lupin did not give him a chance. Lupin''s words stung Harry like a whip and he lowered his head in shame.

    "Your parents sacrificed their lives to protect you, to let you live, Harry. You shouldn''t repay them like this¨Cto risk their sacrifice for a few drinks." Lupin''s voice was full of disappointment and anger, and Harry felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

    Lupin left, hisst disappointed look making Harry feel worse than in Professor Watson''s office. Harry watched Lupin''s back as he walked away, and he felt a lump in his throat.

    Seeing Harry like this, Hermione opened her mouth, but said nothing, although in her heart she agreed with the two professor''s educating Harry.

    As he slowly walked up the spiral staircase to the dormitory, Harry suddenly said in a muffled voice, "I suddenly feel, all along, my actions seem very stupid."

    "Oh, don''t think like that, Harry¨C" Ron patted the dispirited Harry and said, "Professor Watson and Professor Lupin are both adult wizards, and we can''tpare with their life experience. And when they were our age, they might have done countless stupid things!"

    Ron tried to cheer up Harry, as he followed him to his dormitory.

    The night was pitch-ck, as if a thick nket had covered the sky. A week of fine snowkes had turned the world outside Hogsmeade into a white painting, with only the asional smoke from the chimneys and the faint music from the pubs adding some color and sound. The night was freezing, and the night was lonely.

    In the dry and cold cave, a massive dog with a shaggy ck coat that resembled a bear crawled on a bunch of hay and shivered. Under it was a pile of blood-stained bones, the remnants of its meager meals. The cave was damp and dark, and the air was stale.

    Thin and dirty, with matted and torn fur, the dog shivered in the dark cave, which suddenly echoed with a ghostly howl or a wolfish cry as the piercing cold wind whirled in from the narrow entrance. The dog raised its head and saw a sharp ck shadow jumping on a ck stone at the entrance, arching its back and shaking off the snow on its fluffy body.

    The wind was biting, and the sound was eerie. The dog was startled, and its ears perked up. The shadow was familiar, and its shape was recognizable. He was curious, as his nose twitched. The shadow was Crookshanks, the half-kneazle cat that belonged to Hermione Granger, And Crookshanks had something in his mouth.

    <em>''A cake?''</em>

    The dog''s eyes lit up, and his mouth watered. He had not eaten anything sweet for a long time, and he was starving. He did not care where Crookshanks had gotten this thing. He just wanted to eat it. He jumped up and made an excited whimper, wagging his tail.

    Crookshanks meowed and dropped the thing on the ground, then stepped back. He looked at the dog with a smug expression, as if he had done him a great favor.

    The dog did not hesitate. He pounced on the thing, and bit it hard.

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    The sound of something breaking suddenly sounded in the cave filled with wind. The hungry big ck dog felt a sharp pain in his mouth and spat out the broken teeth and blood. He looked at the thing that Crookshanks had brought, and his heart sank.

    He whimpered softly, wishing he could cry. With a look of despair, he finally recognized what this thing was.

    <em>''Hagrid''s rock cake''</em>

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0226 His Dilemma

    0226 His Dilemma

    Crookshankszily stretched his furry body, curling up into a cozy round shape on the messy pile of dried grass. However, the temperature inside the dark and damp cave was too low, and the grass beneath him couldn''t provide any warmth. He felt a chill run through his spine, making him shiver slightly.

    Dumbledore still hadn''t returned to Hogwarts.

    This was the news brought by Crookshanks today. For therge ck dog, this was undoubtedly good news. But when he thought about the powerful wizard currently upying Hogwarts, therge ck dog couldn''t help but feel discouraged and hopeless.

    On the day of Harry''s match, he was hiding under the stands of the Quidditch pitch and witnessed firsthand themotion caused by the young and mysterious wizard named Bryan Watson. It was a shocking and terrifying sight for the staff and students present, including himself.

    Since the failed infiltration of Hogwarts, he had been looking for the right opportunity to try again. Originally, with Dumbledore away from the school and the Dementors no longer guarding the entrance, it was the perfect time to strike. However, that unpredictable and dangerous young wizard made him hesitate and refrain from taking any action.

    It was onlyter that he learned that the young wizard was Bryan Watson, the Director of Student Safety Office appointed by Albus Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore had set up this non-existent position specifically to target him. He had given Watson the authority to monitor and protect the students, as well as to capture and interrogate any intruders.

    Dumbledore had basically handed Watson all the tools he needed to hunt him down and kill him. So, until he could figure out what kind of arrangements Watson had made to catch him, he didn''t want to take any unnecessary risks. After all, the consequence of another failure could be death. He wasn''t afraid of death, but at the very least, he wanted to kill that despicable traitor.

    He had already nned that the next opportunity to strike would be during the Christmas holiday in two week''s time. By then, the young wizards in the school would have left to spend the holiday with their families, and it was highly likely that the staff, including Bryan Watson, would also be away. ording to the information he had gathered, Harry and the boy named Ron had spent their Christmas holidays at the school for the past few years. If Dumbledore also hadn''t returned, it would be a rare opportunity to strike.

    The night grew darker, and the biting cold wind rushed in through the narrow entrance of the cave. The already icy cave became even colder, as if it was a giant freezer. Therge ck dog, with frost on its fur and breath, thought to itself while shivering uncontrobly. He wished he had a warm nket, or a fire, or anything that could make him feel less cold.

    <strong>Meow¨C</strong> Seeing therge ck dog shaking like a leaf, Crookshanks stretched its limbs and stood up, pointing with its gloomy and concerned eyes in a certain direction outside the cave.

    <em>''Go to the Shrieking Shack to escape the cold night?''</em>

    Therge ck dog understood Crookshanks'' suggestion, but after a moment of hesitation, it refused the suggestion. The Shrieking Shack was now Bryan''s experimental site, and he could return at any moment. Even though he was currently in his Animagus form and the chances of being recognized were slim, ck didn''t want to risk a direct confrontation with him.

    Therge ck dog whimpered and struggled to express its thoughts to Crookshanks, but Crookshanks still pointed to the Shrieking Shack with its gaze and meowed softly.

    <em>''The professor hadn''t returned for two months, and he had probably forgotten about that ce.''</em>

    <em>''But there were still Aurors and Dementors patrolling the vige, and if they rushed to the Shrieking Shack, the situation would be just as bad.''</em>

    Therge ck dog hesitated, but it took some effort to make Crookshanks understand what "Aurors" and "Dementors" represented.

    <em>''Those ''things'' haven''t been to that house¡ª''</em> Crookshanks'' whiskers trembled, and its amber eyes shot out sharp light. The meaning expressed in the following meows made therge ck dog''s vigncepletely copse:

    <em>''You will freeze to death if you stay here.''</em>

    Crookshanks was right. Therge ck dog knew that he couldn''t survive another night in the cave.

    <strong>|SCENE-BREAK|</strong>

    After Bryan had meticulously checked every possible trace of ck passing through the secret passages in Hogwarts Castle, including the mirror on the fourth floor that led to a hidden corridor and the passage to Honeydukes'' basement that Harry had usedst time, it was already two o''clock in the middle of the night.

    The moon was high in the sky, casting a pale and eerie light over the snow-covered grounds.

    <strong>Creak-creak!</strong>

    The snow on the Quidditch pitch, which had been cleared just yesterday morning by the diligent house elves, was now thick enough to reach Bryan''s knees after more than ten hours of continuous snowfall. The world was like a frozen moment captured in a Muggle photograph, silent and cold like the surface of the moon. The only sound was the crunching of the snow under Bryan''s boots as he walked towards the edge of the pitch.

    On the edge of the Quidditch pitch, the magical Whomping Willow''s branches were swaying wildly in the biting wind, as if trying to ward off any intruders. Bryan Watson stood outside its attack range, silently gazing at it with his keen and curious eyes. For some reason, he had a feeling that he would discover something here, something that would bring him closer to his elusive target.

    Hogwarts, draped in a white cloak of snow, was in a deep sleep. The windows of the castle were dark and empty, except for a few flickering lights in the towers.

    Hagrid''s hut by the Forbidden Forest was also dark and silent, as the half-giant gamekeeper was probably snoring in his bed, unaware of Bryan''s presence. Bryan took a deep breath and suddenly felt his lungs ufortable. The air was so cold that it felt like needles piercing his chest. The temperature of this winter reminded him of the winter when he was born into this world, in a remote and deste ce where magic was scarce and life was harsh.

    <strong>Humm¨C</strong> An inconspicuous buzzing was quickly carried away by the howling wind. Bryan Watson waved his wand, and a magic shield the color of snow enveloped his body. It was a simple but effective charm that would protect him from the cold and the attacks of the Whomping Willow. He took a step into the attack range of the Whomping Willow, ready to face its wrath.

    Like a dragon whose territory was being invaded, this ancient and precious magical nt suddenly became furious. Hundreds of branches whipped through the north wind like whips, making a crackling sound as they broke the ice and snow on their way. They aimed at Bryan with deadly uracy, trying to hit him with all their might.

    Snowkes flew in all directions, creating a blizzard-like effect that obscured Bryan''s vision.

    The surface of the translucent magic shield was like a calmke being hit by raindrops. Under the intense whipping, ripples appeared one after another, showing the impact of the branches. Bryan slowly pulled out his leg, which was deeply buried in the snow, and with each step, he braved the fierce attacks of the Whomping Willow, until he reached its sturdy roots.

    Bryan''s prating gaze had already broken through theyers of snow and the entangled vines, seeing through the hidden entrance beneath. With a light flick of his wand, the frozen snowkes floated lightly, revealing the entrance of the tunnel. It was a small and round hole, barely big enough for a person to squeeze through. He crouched down and carefully observed the traces at the entrance.

    The soil beneath the snowyyer was frozen solid, and the rough surface of the soil showed no footprints left by humans, but it was filled with the messy footprints of cats and dogs. They were of different sizes and shapes, indicating that they belonged to different breeds and individuals. Bryan recognized some of them, as he had seen them around the castle and the vige.

    "Hmm Crookshanks and Fang?" Bryan Watson murmured.

    In the past couple of months, the only rainfall was during the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff match. After that, the temperature suddenly dropped, and there hadn''t been any warm sunny days since then. This week, it had been snowing for several days. So, the footprints left at that time were fortunately preserved, and not erased by the weather.

    Bryan estimated that they were made about a week ago, based on the depth and shape of the footprints. He also noticed that there were more footprints going into the tunnel thaning out, suggesting that some of the animals had stayed inside for a while, or had note out at all.

    Judging from the footprints alone, it seemed that ck didn''t enter Hogwarts through this secret passage. However, Bryan still had doubts. Since Fang knew about the secret passage under the Whomping Willow, Hagrid must also know, but he hadn''t mentioned it to him. In any case, he still had to go down and take a look.

    Bryan stared at the dark cave entrance for a while, confirming that there was no movement below, then he lit his wand and conjured a gentle breeze to surround him, supporting him as he floated down slowly. He didn''t want to make any noise, or disturb any possible traps or wards that might be set up in the tunnel. He wanted to be as stealthy and cautious as possible, as he didn''t know what awaited him at the other end of the tunnel.

    The entrance of the tunnel was a very smooth slope, and the ground of the tunnel was dry, without any umtion of rain or snow. However, the problem was that the tunnel was too low. Bryan had to bend over to stand inside, and it seemed that this secret passage was not meant for wizards of normal height. It was more suitable for smaller creatures, such as cats and dogs, or perhaps children.

    The dusty ground still only had footprints left by cats and dogs, without any traces of goblins or house elves. This disappointed Bryan Watson. He had hoped that he would find some clues or evidence that would link ck to the tunnel. But he found nothing, nothing but the footprints of animals that had nothing to do with him. So, after a brief moment of contemtion, he gave up the idea of walking step by step to the other end of the tunnel.

    <strong>Huuu</strong>¨C A gloomy and silent shadow swiftly passed through the narrow and cramped tunnel, like a ghost in the night. Bryan observed the tunnel and the space above it with his unique magical vision, which allowed him to see beyond the normal spectrum of light. He found that the tunnel did indeed extend towards Hogsmeade, the wizarding vige that was close to Hogwarts.

    If he were to walk the distance of two to three miles, it would probably take a couple of hours, especially with the low ceiling and the uneven ground. But Bryan flew over in just a few minutes, Then, after a long and steep slope, He transformed back into his wizard form because the exit was approaching. He didn''t want to be caught off guard by anything or anyone that might be waiting for him on the other side.

    <strong>Disillusionment, Bubble-head, levitation</strong>-- Bryan applied a series of spells to himself, and then continued along the slope. After a few more minutes, he reached a sharp bend. The tunnel curved to the right, and he couldn''t see what was beyond it. He took a deep breath and took a step forward.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0227 Hello

    0227 Hello

    The room was a dismal sight, a testament to years of neglect and decay. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls, revealing patches of mold and cracks. The floor was stained with dirt, blood, and other unidentifiable substances. The furniture was broken and splintered, as if someone had vented their rage on it. The windows were boarded up with thick plywood, blocking any natural light or fresh air.

    Bryan hovered in mid-air, his eyes scanning the surroundings and then his eyes darkened.

    This was the Shrieking Shack - it only took Bryan a few seconds to realize. He had spent some time here, so there was no reason for him not to recognize it.

    Staring at the dark hole beneath his feet, Bryan rolled his eyes in disbelief. He had discovered this hole the first time he entered this haunted house, thinking it was created by a wild creature. But he never expected it to be a secret passage leading to Hogwarts.

    <em>''Who on earth had the time and boredom to dig this tunnel?!''</em> He wondered.

    <em>''Was it one of the founders of the school, or someter headmaster, or some mischievous student? And what was the purpose of this hidden route? To escape, to spy, to smuggle?''</em>

    He shook his head, dismissing the irrelevant questions.

    The fluorescent light from a streetmp outside reflected off the white snow, creating a faint and eerie glow that seeped through the gaps in the wooden boards and casting a faint glow on Bryan''s face. He couldn''t help but feel annoyed.

    There was no one in the house - he could sense that without even leaving the room. He had cast powerful protective and marking spells around the house, to ward off any intruders and to alert him of any activity. Unless Sirius ck, had somehow managed to break through his defenses and enter the house without his notice, which was highly unlikely.

    The room was filled with trash, and on the dusty floor, there were still clear footprints of cats and dogs, much clearer than the muddy footprints left near the Whomping Willow, the entrance to the tunnel. Bryan realized that the cat footprints belonged to Crookshanks, But the dog footprints were not left by Hagrid''s Fang, the boarhound that lived in the grounds of Hogwarts. They were left by the stray ck dog that he had seen roaming around here a few times.

    Bryan instinctively scratched his itchy head and chuckled.

    <em>''So, Crookshanks had brought that dog into Hogwarts for a walk? How amusing.''</em>

    Through his magical vision, he could see Crookshanks and therge ck dog cuddling together on the rotten sofa in the living room, apparently asleep.

    <em>''What a big dog, almost like a ck bear!''</em>

    When Bryan''s curious gaze fell on the sleepingrge ck dog, who seemed to be restless, he couldn''t help but be amazed.

    <em>''Could it be that this creature had magical bloodlines? Otherwise, how could one exin its abnormal magical energy and such a massive size?''</em>

    Bryan stood about ten feet away from the sofa, observing it with an interested look in his eyes, while scratching his increasingly itchy head.

    After some time, He decided to leave the sleeping pair alone. But since he was here, he might as well clean up the traces of his past experiments left inside. He did not want to leave any evidence or clues for anyone who might stumble upon this ce.

    The darkness enveloped the Shrieking Shack in silence, and the delicate snowkes, as they approached the house, seemed to be disturbed by something and quietly drifted away.

    Bryan'' scratching motion came to a halt, and his casual gaze, which had been exploring, suddenly revealed a deep and heavy pressure.

    <em>''Interesting.''</em>

    Gazing at the eyelids of the tremblingrge ck dog, Bryan'' mouth gradually curved into a self-mocking smile.

    <em>''Animagus?</em>

    <em>The Wizarding world truly had many talents.''</em>

    <strong>Godric''s Hollow:</strong>

    Late summer and early autumn, the night sky was a canvas of stars, shining brightly and beautifully on the earth. The warm breeze caressed theplex muddy roads in the vige, bringing a touch offort and peace to the hearts of every wizarding resident.

    <strong>Inside a white house:</strong>

    "I have to say, James, this child looks almost identical to you!"

    Sirius ck eximed, his voice full of affection. He was dressed in a brand new sky-blue robe, a gift from his birthday. His short hair was neatlybed and soft, a contrast to his usual messy and wild style. The dim candlelight softened his handsome but overly sharp features, making him look more gentle and friendly.

    He was looking at the crib, where little Harry, who had just turned one, was sucking on his fingers, his green eyes wide and curious. Sirius smiled warmly at him, and reached out to ruffle his jet-ck hair.

    "You have to grow up quickly, kid. Your dad and I are still waiting for you to inherit our great adventure career!" He said, half-jokingly and half-seriously.

    "Oh!"

    On the other side of the crib, Lily heard Sirius say this and her expression of affection disappeared. She stared at Sirius with a stern look.

    "This is exactly what I''ve been worried about, Sirius." She said, her voice firm and clear. "If possible, I hope Harry will be a brave wizard, but definitely not like you and James when you were at Hogwarts!"

    She remembered the countless times that Sirius and James had caused trouble at school, breaking rules, ying pranks, and fighting with Slytherins.

    "If you expect Harry to be a rule-abiding young wizard, dear¡­"

    A thin, messy-haired man with a mischievous smile walked out of the living room, holding a ss of firewhiskey in his hand. He gently rubbed Lily''s deep red hair and then wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

    "I bet you''ll be disappointed."

    "Yeah!?" Lily red at her husband and said, "With you and Sirius as his role models, I can probably imagine what Harry will be like in the future." She sighed and added, "If possible, I hope Remus can give him some positive guidance."

    "Don''t be fooled by Remus, Lily-" Siriusughed happily, his voice loud and cheerful. "He''s not as honest as you think?"

    Harry, who was sleeping soundly in the crib, whimpered and cried out. He had been disturbed by the loud voices of his father and godfather.

    Lily sent the two unreliable men to the kitchen with a stern look and hummed a luby gently. She picked up Harry and rocked him in her arms, soothing him with her love and warmth. After a while, when she walked into the kitchen, she found her husband and Sirius wearing serious expressions.

    "The situation is difficult recently-" Sirius said to Lily, who had just sat down, holding Harry in herp. He looked at her with a grave and concerned look. "I''m sure you''ve heard about what happened to the Longbottoms. Voldemort has targeted you, and he probably knows our n to protect you through the spy. So, we must ensure that everything goes perfectly."

    Lily immediately understood what Sirius was talking about. They had discussed this before.

    James fully supported Sirius''s suggestion because Peter was also a good friend they could trust with their lives. He had known Peter since their first year at Hogwarts, and he had always been loyal and helpful. He was not as brave or as smart as the others, but he had a good heart.

    "This is still risky, Sirius." Lily said worriedly, her eyes filled with fear and doubt. "If it were up to me, it would be more appropriate for Dumbledore to be our Secret-Keeper. It''s well known that Voldemort fears him the most."

    "Dumbledore is indeed reliable, but he already has so much to consider. We can''t rely on him for everything, can we?" James expressed his opinion.

    "That''s right," Sirius felt pleased with the unspoken understanding between him and James. He looked into Lily''s emerald eyes and said, "If Dumbledore''s guess is correct and there really is a traitor in the Order of the Phoenix, then Voldemort probably already knows that we don''t intend to make Dumbledore the Secret-Keeper. Among the remaining options, I am the most likely one, and Voldemort will most likely try to find me. But they can''t even dream that we will adjust the n and make Peter the Secret-Keeper, which is like having an extrayer of insurance."

    He did not tell them his real n, the n that he had made in his mind. He had decided to sacrifice himself, if necessary, to save his friends. He knew that Voldemort would stop at nothing to find and kill them, and he was prepared to face him. He hoped that if he were captured and killed by Voldemort, Dumbledore would receive the news, giving him ample time to move James and his family to a safer ce.

    In the flickering candlelight, Lily finally hesitated and nodded. She agreed to Sirius'' suggestion, hoping that he was right

    The scene shifted.

    The moon hanging in the sky was pale and cold, unable to prate the deep darkness of the night, shrouded in blood. The stars were dim and distant, unable to witness the horror and tragedy that unfolded below.

    Hagrid disappeared into the night on his motorcycle, and Sirius stood amidst the rubble on the second floor, looking at where Lily had fallen, letting out a heart-wrenching cry.

    A chill ran through him, and therge ck dog shivered, abruptly waking up from his slumber.

    Over the years, the image of James and Lily''s death had appeared countless times in his dreams, and even after twelve years, he still vividly remembered every detail.

    His thoughts remained hazy, and regret and pain tore at his soul like venomous snakes. He wished he had done things differently, that he had been a better friend, that he had saved his friends from their fate. Everything before him was blurry, and therge ck dog hung its head on its front paws, silently shedding tears in the midst of the thick darkness. He felt lonely and hopeless, and he longed for revenge.

    "What''s wrong, ck?" Bryan, who had been sitting for a while, waved his wand to dispel the illusion and looked at therge ck dog lying on the sofa, tears streaming down its face. He sneered and said, with a mocking tone.

    "Did you dream of your former master''s defeat?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <em>Author''s Note:</em>

    <em>Dear readers and patrons,</em>

    <em>I hope you are enjoying my story and thank you for your support. I have some important examsing up for the next 10 days, starting from tomorrow. I will update every day as before, but please bear with me if the update time iste sometimes. I appreciate your patience and understanding.</em>

    <em>Thank you for reading and stay tuned!</em>

    <em>Your author,</em>

    <em>FicFrenzy</em>

 0228 Resistance

    0228 Resistance

    The Shrieking Shack was as silent as a tomb, except for the faint sound of a needle dropping on the wooden floor. A subtle but deadly aura filled the air, making every breath feel like a razor de.

    In the dimly lit living room, Bryan was sitting on a soft chair, resting his elbow on the armrest. He supported his tilted cheek with a clenched fist, observing therge ck dog thaty motionless on the sofa. The dog''s fur was matted and dirty, and its eyes were wide with fear. A cold smile appeared at the corner of Bryan''s mouth, revealing his white teeth.

    "It''s not easy to see you, Mr. ck." He said in a low voice, breaking the eerie silence.

    <strong>Crash!</strong>

    As soon as Bryan''s words fell, the quiet room suddenly erupted into chaos. The big ck dog sprang up from the sofa and dashed towards the door, without any intention of confronting Bryan. It seemed to sense the danger that Bryan posed, and wanted to escape at all costs.

    "Heh, trying to escape?" Bryan sneered, raising an eyebrow. He slowly stood up, his ck cloak fluttering behind him. His sneer was filled with contempt and mockery.

    At the same time, Crookshanks, who had also awakened from its slumber, let out a series of angry howls. Its bulky figure suddenly burst out with astonishing speed, its orange fur standing on end. Instead of running away like Sirius, it resolutely pounced towards Bryan''s face, seemingly trying to buy time for Sirius.

    <strong>ng!</strong>

    A bright sh of light lit up the dim room for a brief moment. Crookshanks, moving even faster than before, was sent flying by a flick of Bryan''s wand. It crashed heavily into the liquor shelf that separated the living room from the kitchen, shattering bottles and sses. Its amber eyes rolled back, and its body fell to the ground lifelessly, blood dripping from its mouth.

    "What a traitor. I''ll settle the score with youter." Bryan nced at the unconscious Crookshanks, feeling no sympathy in his heart. He just muttered quietly, his voice cold and emotionless.

    While Bryan was dyed for those few seconds, the crazily fleeing Sirius had already reached the door. Instead of trying to open it, he simply used his massive body to ram into it, intending to break the door with brute force.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    The sudden impact made the entire dpidated house tremble. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling and walls. Just like Crookshanks before, Sirius was bounced back by the magic attached to the door, which was reinforced by Bryan.

    Sirius let out a painful howl in mid-air, experiencing a painful transformation as his disguise was broken by Bryan''s magic. His massive body quickly shrank and twisted like putty, his paws turned into hands and feet, and his ck fur rapidly receded. By the time hended, he hadpletely regained his human form.

    He looked like a shadow of his former self. His dirty, unkempt hair hung down to his elbows, covering his gaunt face. His pale skin was tightly stretched over his cheekbones, making him look like a skeleton. His eyes, sunken in their sockets, revealed both madness and determination. Under the foul-smelling tattered prisoner''s robe, the contours of every rib were clearly visible. He was the spitting image of the picture on the wanted poster, Sirius ck, the notorious mass murderer.

    "It''s chilling to see you, ck," Bryan''s mocking gaze didn''t waver in the face of Sirius''s terrifying eyes. He casually rolled up his right sleeve, revealing his fair wrist, and smiled calmly.

    "Didn''t expect to see you like this after wanting to meet you so much." He said sarcastically, his smile mocking Sirius''s miserable state.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    A piercing red light shot out like an arrow from the suddenly revealed wand in Sirius''s hand, directly aimed at Bryan''s chest.

    However, this curse was easily deflected by Bryan, who waved his wand casually. The red light pierced through the ceiling of the first floor and the roof of the second floor, leaving a hole in its wake. It disappeared into the swirling snowkes that fell from the gray sky.

    "Oh? So, you got yourself a wand too?" Bryan turned his gaze, staring at the familiar-looking wand in Sirius''s hand. A coldness seeped into his indifferent smile.

    "Could this wand be the one Mr. Longbottom lost?" He asked, his tone implying that he already knew the answer.

    "Let me go, young man. I don''t want to have a fight with you¨C" Sirius said in a hoarse voice, sounding like a rusty saw cutting through wood. He had not spoken for so long, his vocal cords were damaged. He maintained a half-crouched posture and slowly backed away, not wanting to provoke the dangerous young man in front of him.

    "I''m sorry, Mr. ck, but I''m afraid I can''t grant your request¨C" Bryan spread his hands and said ''regretfully'', his eyes gleaming with malice.

    "There are many people who have been longing to see you. They are counting on me to bring you back!"

    Sirius knew that his fate was sealed the moment he saw the young wizard who appeared in front of him. His previous words were just a desperate attempt to stall and mislead his enemy. He never expected this wizard named Bryan Watson to show him any mercy.

    Sirius had witnessed Bryan''s disy of power before. During his twelve years in Azkaban, his mind hadn''t been damaged by the Dementors, thanks to his ability to transform into a dog. He knew very well that he couldn''t defeat this formidable guy.

    However, knowing this didn''t mean he would give up resistance and surrender. Bryan mocked and looked down on him, and that was his hope for escape. He had to find a way to get out of the Shrieking Shack.

    The stunning spell hit the shimmering barrier in front of Bryan, scattering countless dots of light like a dazzling gxy. It was a feeble attack, but it served its purpose.

    Taking advantage of this momentary gap, Sirius rushed into the kitchen, intending to escape through the window. He knew that the door was sealed by Bryan''s magic, and he had no time to waste. But before he could reach the countertop, a chilling surge of magic suddenly erupted behind him. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead, and his heart skipped a beat. Without hesitation, Sirius immediately turned around and shouted,

    <strong>"Protego!"</strong>

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    The sound of shattering ss echoed through the room, as the iron armor shield that Sirius had conjured failed to withstand Bryan''s curse. Sirius felt a powerful force rushing towards him, like a giant fist. His weak body couldn''t resist the impact and he stumbled back a few steps, his back hitting the edge of the kitchen counter, causing him intense pain that almost made him faint. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a scream.

    "You have some skills, Mr. ck, but I advise you not to resist stubbornly. Otherwise, you''ll suffer." Bryan said, standing in the hallway. He slightly restrained his calm smile. He raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had intended topletely disable Sirius''s resistance with thatst attack, but he didn''t expect it to be blocked. However, it didn''t matter much to him.

    Suddenly, a dazzling zigzag-shaped white light shed through the gloomy and cold air. Sirius, who was desperately gasping for breath while hunched over, even thought he saw a lightning bolt at that moment. Without time to think about what kind of magic it was, Sirius shouted and rushed towards the other side, hoping to dodge the attack.

    The explosion created a shockwave that blew away the kitchen walls, creating arge crater in the ground, simr to what would be formed after a small meteor impact. The st sent debris and dust flying in all directions, and the heat scorched everything in its path.

    Under the impact of this tremendous force, the entire house was on the verge of copse, making creaking sounds. It seemed thatplete copse was just a step away. The wooden beams and nks cracked and fell, and the furniture and objects were smashed and scattered.

    The swirling snow and wind poured into the room, adding to the chaos. Bryan squinted his eyes, looking at Sirius, who had broken several ribs and was coughing up blood as he struggled to get up from the snow. He was covered in wounds and bruises, and his clothes were torn and burned.

    "I have to say, Mr. ck¨C" Bryan walked through the muddy ground, standing in the icyndscape. His purple eyes shed with a hint of satisfaction before quickly disappearing.

    "You have a tenacious vitality, just like a cockroach."

    Looking at the young wizard who was mocking him from above, Sirius''s deeply sunken eye sockets shed with a hint of gloom. He felt a surge of anger and hatred in his chest, and he refused to give up. He still had onest trick up his sleeve. He shook the wand in his hand and grinned, revealing his scarred pale lips.

    "You underestimated me, boy."

    After speaking, a loud explosion suddenly urred in the air filled with cold and clear air. Sirius ck''s figure disappeared in an instant, leaving only the swirling snowkes with disrupted trajectories. He had used thest of his magic to apparate, a risky move that could have killed him if he had failed.

    "Heh, baseless confidence¨C" Bryan said, seeing Sirius''s apparition. He didn''t panic. Instead, a hint of delight shed in his purple eyes. He closed his eyes to sense for a moment. The next second, he took a step forward and disappeared into the pristinendscape, leaving behind a trail of snow.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0229 Sadness

    0229 Sadness

    A blinding sh of light, and Bryan emerged from the state of apparition. It was not his own choice, but something had violently forced him out of the void.

    "Sure enough¨C"

    He surveyed the bronze chain wall in front of him, and behind the chain wall, the turbulent space currents resembling raging rivers and the five-story floating building looming above it, Bryan smiled with satisfaction.

    The ck family''s old mansion was located in Grimmauld Square, a quiet suburb in northwest London. It was far from the bustling muggle city center, secluded and protected by numerous ancient magic and defensive spells that one could hardly imagine. Without an invitation from the owner, it would be extremely difficult for outsiders to forcefully enter with their magical abilities.

    Bryan had failed to enter herest time, not because he was powerless against the bronze chain wall that divided the worlds, but because he didn''t know the precise coordinates of the mansion in space. Even if he broke through these defensive spells, he would get hopelessly lost in the chaotic space currents. But now, there happened to be someone inside the house whom he had marked with magic, serving as a ''coordinate''.

    Previously, at the Shrieking Shack, the reason why Bryan released ck from the house was actually with ulterior motives.

    Because, ever since he had failed to break into this cest time, Bryan suddenly realized that this house matched his ideal residence to live very well.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    A deafening impact broke the eerie silence in the darkness, and the mansion, which had been uninhabited for twelve long years, finally weed the only surviving legitimate heir of the ck family.

    Sirius cky on the cold ground, groaning weakly. Although he narrowly avoided the powerful magic unleashed by the young wizard named Bryan Watson, he was not unscathed. The explosion had generated a fierce shockwave that swept over his upper body, easily fracturing several of his ribs. Moreover, the broken bone in the most severe area had pierced through the skin, causing a trickle of blood to flow like a crimson stream.

    However, Sirius did not focus on his injuries, but rather looked at the old house before him with aplex and bitter expression.

    The air was filled with a damp, dusty smell, and a lingering sweet rot. It seemed that the sound of someone entering had awakened the house, and a row of old-fashioned gasmps on the wall of the corridor that connected to the entrance were all lit up, casting a shaky and unreal light on the long and gloomy corridor, where the wallpaper was peeling off the walls and the carpet was worn and torn.

    A spiderweb-like chandelier above flickered with a faint and ghostly light, and on the walls hung some portraits that had turned ck due to years of neglect andck of protection.

    Sirius took a deep breath, and the moment he saw those familiar furnishings, the unpleasant memories in his memory surged up again like a storm. He had sworn never toe back here, but now he had to break his oath to save his life.

    The years he had lived here were like maggots in his brain, making his already gloomy expression even more grim and haunted. But he knew that he couldn''t spend too much time immersed in the past''s terrible memories, otherwise, he would waste the opportunity he had fought so hard to obtain from Bryan Watson.

    The excessive blood loss made Sirius''s face pale as a sheet, and the pain of the broken bones was like the tide under the full moon, wave after wave hitting his consciousness. Maybe the next moment, he would fall into aa.

    He clenched his yellow teeth, and crawled to the wall, leaving a shocking dark mark on the wooden floor covered with a thickyer of dust.

    "Ouch, he really didn''t go easy on me¨C"

    He lifted the prison clothes that had rotted into rags, and under the yellow light of the gasmp, Sirius gasped, and finally saw how serious his injuries were. His chest was covered with bruises and cuts, and his left arm was twisted at an unnatural angle.

    Sirius lifted his hand with great difficulty, and his wand sprayed out wisps of white light. Under the cool and soothing light, the broken ribs retracted into his chest, and the wound closed itself, leaving a hideous and jagged scar.

    After roughly treating his external injuries, he looked at the dpidated and gloomy mansion in front of him, and Sirius sighed, leaning on the wall, and stood up with tremendous difficulty.

    Excessive blood loss had turned Sirius''s face even paler than before, and he looked like he had just a bit more breath than a corpse. Suppressing the faint and dizzy feeling of fainting that was assaulting his consciousness, as well as the ufortable and oppressive feeling brought by this old house, Sirius leaned against the wall and struggled to stand up.

    Since he had already returned, there was no need to rush to leave. He needed to find some food to replenish his strength and also carefully n how to proceed with his n.

    The Director of Student Safety Office at Hogwarts had already found him and discovered that he was an illegal Animagus. Therefore, it would be extremely foolish to try to infiltrate Hogwarts using the same methods again. The difficulty of avenging James and Lily had suddenly increased by arge margin. In the short term, the only method Sirius ck could think of was to seize the opportunity when that Red-haired boy brought his pet rat home for the summer and strike.

    And this also meant that he had to wait another six or seven months to achieve his goal. For Sirius, who had been dreaming of revenge, this was an extremely painful and unbearable torment. Lost in his thoughts, Sirius let out a faint and mncholic sigh of profound sadness.

    <em>''How did Bryane to the Shrieking Shack tonight?''</em>

    There were two possibilities. The first was that the young wizard had finally remembered that Hogsmeade still had his secret experimental base, and had a sh of sudden and brilliant inspiration toe back and take a look.

    However, Sirius believed that this possibility was not high because the terrifying young wizard hadn''t returned for over two months, so it was highly likely that he didn''t want to use that ce anymore.

    And the reason for his sigh was the second possibility¨CBryan Watson came through the secret and hidden passage under the Whomping Willow.

    At Hogwarts now, there was only one person who knew that he still had the ability to pass through that passage, and that was his best friend¨CRemus Lupin.

    Ever since he had gone to Hogwarts on the night of the Halloween feast, Sirius had been worried for a while. He knew that Remus was teaching at the school, and he was afraid that Remus would tell Dumbledore everything, and expose him as an illegal animagus, and thus seal the passage under the Whomping Willow.

    But in the following days, Sirius, who was monitoring Hogwarts through Crookshanks, was relieved. Dumbledore did not seal the passage, which meant that Remus probably didn''t say anything to Dumbledore.

    As his former friend, Sirius ck could guess the reason behind Remus''s reaction.

    But now Bryan hade through the passage to the Shrieking Shack, and had called out his name when he was still in his transformed state. Sirius had reason to believe that Remus had told everything to this young man.

    "Have you made up your mind to kill me, Remus?"

    His heart, which had been numb and cold for a long time, surged with sadness, and his skeletal and gaunt face also showed a trace of sorrow.

    "This is all retribution¨C"

    Siriusughed bitterly and whispered, his physical and mental strength had reached the limit, and he suddenly felt weak and powerless, and his body copsed involuntarily, hitting his head on the giant leg umbre stand in front of the door at the end of the hall that led to the basement kitchen.

    <strong>tter¡ª</strong>

    Two velvet curtains with beady and malicious eyes were pulled open, and behind the curtains, the ugly and wrinkled olddy with a ck and pointy hat suddenly opened her eyes. She looked at Sirius struggling to breathe on the ground, took a deep and raspy breath, and in the next second, a terrifying, deafening, and hair-raising scream instantly awakened this dormant and dusty mansion.

    "YOU TRAITOR!!!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0230 The Black Manor

    0230 The ck Manor

    As soon as Sirius ck stepped into the dark and dusty hallway of Number Twelve, Grimmauld ce, he was greeted by a cacophony of shrieks and howls. The portraits that lined the walls, depicting various members of the ancient and noble ck family, woke up one by one from their slumber and expressed their outrage at his presence. Their screams were like the noise produced by the machinery in a Muggle factory running at full capacity, causing even the air to ripple with sound waves.

    However, no voice from any of the portraits was more piercing than the voice of this olddy, who upied thergest and most ornate frame at the end of the corridor. She red at Sirius, who was sitting on the floor gasping for breath, with a look of pure hatred and contempt. Apart from the initial surprise, the olddy''s mouth, which had lost many teeth over the years, opened wide and her loose yellow skin tightened around her bones.

    "You¡­you, good-for-nothing, disgrace of the family, I gave birth to a bastard!" she spat, her voice raspy and shrill.

    The olddy in the portrait bared her teeth and seemed as if she wanted to burst out of the canvas and take a bite at Sirius'' neck. Her eyes were bloodshot and bulging, and her hair was a tangled mess of gray strands.

    "You dare toe back here, you¡­you disgraceful bastard, filthy scum, get out of the house that our ancestors left behind!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the house.

    Sirius''s dark eyes suddenly ignited with fire. He stared at the distorted and cursed olddy in the portrait, and a surge of strength emerged from his weak and emaciated body. This strength made him raise his proud chin and slowly stand up, despite the pain in his limbs.

    Sirius stared fearlessly at the olddy in the portrait, who was spewing out malicious curses and coldly said,

    "Long time no see, my dear mother."

    The olddy in the portrait suddenly held her breath, her expression as if she had been deeply insulted. Seeing her like this, Sirius felt a sense of satisfaction. He had always hated his mother, who had treated him cruelly and disowned him for his rebellious choices. But before he could say anything else, the olddy started screaming again,

    "Kreacher, Kreacher, you damn thing, where have you been cking off!"

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    Under the dim and flickering light, the air suddenly exploded with a loud noise. Kreacher, the house-elf, squeezed through the air and appeared in the bustling corridor. He had apparated from somewhere in the house, obeying his mistress''s call.

    This house-elf looked old and worn out, with loose and excess skin that was several times more than what its body actually needed. Although its head was bald like all house-elves, a bunch of white hair grew out of its bat-like ears. Its eyes were bloodshot, watery, and grayish, and its fleshy nose wasrge, just like a pig''s nose. It wore a dirty and ragged pillowcase, which barely covered its thin and bony frame.

    Kreacher appeared next to Sirius, but it didn''t even look at him. Instead, it respectfully saluted the portrait of the olddy and bent its waist so that its forehead touched its own feet.

    "My esteemed mistress, Kreacher, have been waiting for yourmand." the house-elf said in a hoarse and low voice, like that of a bullfrog, and kept muttering under his breath,

    "Kreacher did not ck off, my esteemed mistress. Kreacher has served the noble ck family all his life. Kreacher is loyal and faithful to his masters."

    "Get rid of this mongrel, this rebellious spawn, out of my house!" the olddy pointed her index finger at Sirius'' chest and shouted.

    "Ah, it''s you, young master¨C" Kreacher, who seemed to have just noticed Sirius, turned around slowly, reluctantly, and perfunctorily bowed. Then, it lowered its voice and continued muttering,

    "Young master Sirius is a hateful and ungrateful scoundrel. He has hurt his mother''s heart too much. Now, this despicable person has escaped from Azkaban and returned to my esteemed mistress''s house. But why did hee back? He should have stayed in Azkaban and atoned for his foolish actions. He is not worthy of being a noble ck."

    "Long time no see, Kreacher¨C" Sirius leaned against the wall opposite the portrait, covering his painful ribs, and said with a dark expression,

    "To be honest, I''m a bit surprised. I thought you were already dead, But, you don''t look much better now, You look like you''ve be senile¨C"

    "Young master always likes to make jokes. Kreacher is not senile¨C" the house-elf spoke while bowing to Sirius, as if it was instinctual for it to do so.

    "Kreacher noticed the young master as soon as he entered the house. If it weren''t for the mistress''smand, Kreacher would have wanted to hide and note out, because Kreacher knows that the young master must have caused a big trouble again to run back here. Just like before, it will only make my respected mistress sad. Kreacher wishes the young master would leave and nevere back."

    While the olddy in the portrait kept shouting for Kreacher to kick Sirius out of the house, and Kreacher kept muttering, Sirius'' face turned from yellow to blue, and he gritted his teeth and said to the olddy,

    "Shut your mouth, or I''llmand Kreacher to throw everything in this house, including your portrait, out!"

    The olddy was stunned for a moment, as if she hadn''t expected Sirius to dare to say such rebellious words. She gasped and clutched her chest, as if she was having a heart attack.

    And Kreacher at Sirius''s feet also showed an indignant expression, he was about to say something, but at that moment, another intense burst of fire suddenly appeared at the other end of the corridor, and the violent explosion made the entire house tremble!

    "Yo-ho¨C"

    A cheerful voice rang out from the mes, and a figure emerged from the smoke. He stomped his feet, hurriedly extinguished the mes on his sleeves, and looked at the dumbfounded cks and the dirty house-elf next to Sirius. He waved his right hand and smiled happily.

    "Phew¨Cit''s not easy to get into this house for a visit. Sorry for interrupting your reunion."

    He said, as if he had just popped in for a cup of tea, rather than breaking through a series of powerful wards and enchantments.

    After a suppressed silence, it was the portrait of the olddy on the wall that first showed her power.

    "A lowly, filthy mudblood like you, who are you, and who gave you the courage to break into my house? GET OUT!" she shrieked, her voice full of venom and malice.

    <em>''A lowly, filthy mudblood?''</em>

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    Bryan''s face darkened, and a fine thunderbolt shed in his purple eyes. A strong aura surged like a torrent from where he stood, making the air around him crackle with electricity.

    The lights emitted by the gasmps on the long corridor walls flickered madly as if being whipped by the wind, and one by one, the portrait frames hanging on the walls fell down with loud thuds. Although the frame where the olddy was located did not fall, it seemed as if it had been hammered by a giant fist, and cracks appeared on the precious mahogany frame, making the olddy''s face look ferocious. Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted directly in her own portrait, unable to bear the pressure of Bryan''s magic.

    "Who is this? So rude." Bryan said, as he walked with a dignified pace towards Sirius. He sounded annoyed, but not angry. He was used to dealing with people like the olddy, who clung to their outdated notions of blood purity and superiority.

    "My mother. She has always been like this." Sirius replied dazedly, but then he regained his senses and looked at Bryan Watson approaching him. A chilling aura rose from the depths of his heart and spread throughout his body.

    <em>''How is this possible?!''</em>

    The first thought that came to Sirius'' mind was this.

    Putting aside how Bryan managed to follow him who used Apparition, the fact that he could break into this house was iprehensible.

    This house was where Sirius was born and raised. Since he could remember, everyone living in this house had always told him about the great efforts the noble ancestors of the ck family had made to protect this house. Everyone told Sirius that as long as the protective spells on the house didn''t fail, it would be almost impossible for even Albus Dumbledore to enter!

    Having been influenced since childhood, Sirius never doubted the reliability of the ancestral home. Otherwise, he wouldn''t have thought of this ce first when he was in dire straits.

    But now, a wizard had actually broken through the powerful enchantments protecting this Manor and forcefully entered.

    At this moment, Sirius finally understood why Albus Dumbledore had chosen this young man who looked barely twenty years old to an incredibly important position as the Director of Student Security Office!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0231 Wait

    0231 Wait

    Sirius had barely recovered from the shock of seeing Bryan Watson enter the mansion, when a shrill voice pierced his ears.

    "Filthy, lowly mudblood has invaded my mistress''s house and harmed my noble mistress!"

    It was Kreacher, his house-elf, who had crawled out of the shadows. His old, wrinkled nose was red with rage, and a disgusting thick mucus dripped down his chin. He extended his bony finger and pointed it at Bryan, who was walking towards Sirius.

    "Kreacher will avenge the mistress, Kreacher will defend the honour of the ck family!"

    As he spoke, a faint glow gathered at the tip of his finger, ready to unleash a st of magic.

    "Wait, Kreacher, you are not allowed to attack!"

    Sirius shouted desperately, clutching his chest.

    For a house-elf, themands of the master were everything. Even if Kreacher despised Sirius, as long as he was the legitimate heir of the ck family, he had to obey him. In the instant Sirius said "not allowed to attack" the ve contract hidden within Kreacher''s soul forced him to stop his spellcasting.

    "Master and the filthy mudblood are in cahoots!"

    Kreacher''s bloodshot eyes widened with disbelief, as he muttered angrily,

    "Kreacher knew long ago that the master brought this lowly mudblood back for¡­"

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    A dazzling silver light shed in the dim corridor, like a de slicing through the air. It hit Kreacher in the chest, sending him flying backwards. He crashed into the wooden door leading to the basement, leaving arge hole. Hended heavily on the stairs, motionless.

    "I don''t like indulging in the quirks of these little creatures¡­"

    Bryan said in a cold tone, lowering his arm.

    "Did you kill him?"

    Sirius asked in a hoarse voice, turning his dull gaze towards Bryan. He felt a mix of fear and anger, as he faced his enemy.

    "Sorry, did I anger you?"

    Bryan said mockingly, standing a few steps away. He sneered at Sirius,

    "Do I need to kneel down and apologise to you, Mr. ck?"

    Sirius''s hand holding the wand trembled, and his voice became intense.

    "Huh¡­ How could Dumbledore use a wizard like you?"

    "Who knows? But I guess he was very afraid that one day I would join forces with your former master. So, even if some of my actions were very annoying to him, he had to tolerate me."

    Bryan said, tilting his head. He looked at Sirius with a strange gaze, as if he was studying him.

    "Interesting, Mr. ck. You show pity and anger for the death of an old, toothless house-elf, but you pushed your former friend to his death with your own hands?"

    Sirius''s body shuddered, and he was about to say something, but Bryan waved his hand. A silver serpent, as thick as a wrist, shot out from the tip of his wand. It swiftly coiled around Sirius''s body, binding him tightly. The snake''s head hissed in his ear, spewing a foul odour that made him gag.

    "Let me go, you evil bastard!"

    Sirius roared, ring at Bryan with hatred. He tried to ignore the pain and the fear, and focused on his anger. Whether it was because he was captured or because of Kreacher''s uncertain fate, he did not know.

    Unmoved by Sirius''s futile shouting, Bryan hooked his finger, and the wand that had fallen to the ground flew into his hand with a swish. He nced at it casually, and put it back into his pocket, nodding in satisfaction.

    "Now, Mr. Longbottom can finally go home for Christmas."

    Sirius gnashed his teeth at Bryan, roaring and howling. He desperately tried to break free from the snake''s grip, but the more he struggled, the tighter the snake squeezed. In the end, the thick snake had left purple marks on his skin, and even a little crimson seeped from his lips.

    "Stop struggling, ck¡­"

    Bryan said, squatting down. His eyes were filled with interest, as he stared at Sirius, who was filled with hatred and madness.

    "If you break yourself into pieces, and the Ministry can''t recognise you and refuses to give me the bounty, what should I do?"

    He said, taunting Sirius.

    Sirius''s mind was filled with thoughts of resentment and despair.

    He had escaped from the heavily guarded Azkaban, swimming back to the maind in his dog form, braving the vast, cold sea. He had been hiding from the relentless pursuit of the Aurors and the furious Dementors ever since, plotting his solitary revenge. But now, his n had failed. He was captured by a young wizard named Bryan Watson, who was ruthless in his methods, and was going to take him to the Ministry for a bounty-A BOUNTY?

    Sirius suddenly stopped struggling, as a glimmer of hope shed in his eyes. He stared at Bryan, and shouted with great urgency, like a drowning man grasping thest straw,

    "Wait, Watson, You! you caught me. just to exchange me for a bounty from the Ministry of Magic?!"

    He could hear the disbelief and fear in his own voice, echoing in the cold, damp air of the mansion. The only light came from the flickering candles on the walls, casting dark shadows that lurked in the corners.

    "How can you see me like this, Mr. ck?"

    Bryanughed "sheepishly", as if he was embarrassed by his own greed.

    "Striking down evil is the responsibility of every resident of the wizarding world. Of course, I also have no reason to refuse the Fifty Thousand galleons reward from the Ministry, right?"

    He said casually, as if he was talking about the weather. He held Sirius''s wand in his hand, twirling it between his fingers.

    "I can give you more money, Watson, as long as you let me go!"

    Sirius wriggled like a maggot once again, trying to free himself from the silver snake that bound him. He felt a surge of desperation, as he realised that money was his only chance.

    "50,000 galleons¡­ No, I can give you more. How about 100,000? Watson, as long as you let me go, pretend you never saw me tonight, I can give you 100,000 galleons!"

    He said quickly, hoping to persuade Bryan with his offer. He could feel his heart beating violently, as he waited for his response.

    The air, filled with the stench of corruption, suddenly fell into a strange silence. Bryan''s expression also became strange. He looked at Sirius with a mixture of curiosity, as if he was examining a rare specimen.

    "A hundred thousand. you want to give me a hundred thousand galleons., to let you go?"

    He repeated slowly, as if he was weighing the pros and cons.

    "How about it, Watson, this is a deal!"

    Sirius said eagerly, raising his head. He tried to ignore the pain and the fear, and focused on his hope.

    "The ck family''s vault is piled with gold, Watson, as long as you let me go, I can give you all those wealth, I swear I will do it!"

    He added, lying through his teeth. He didn''t know how much money was left in his family''s vault, but he hoped it was enough to tempt Bryan.

    "A hundred thousand galleons¨Chmm"

    Bryan stood up, rubbing his temples with annoyance. He muttered to himself,

    "Sounds like a good deal, Mr. ck, but you''ve given me a big problem."

    Although he didn''t know why Dumbledore had chosen such a person to ensure the safety of the children in the school, but Sirius was still grateful that Dumbledore had made a mistake. Otherwise, he would have to bid farewell to his revenge n tonight.

    Just as he was about to emphasize the wealth of the ck family, one of the twenty-eight pure-blood families, had (<em>actually he didn''t know either</em>), Bryan''s regretful tone and words suddenly stopped his pounding heart.

    "A hundred thousand galleons is indeed a tempting fortune, Mr. ck. But unfortunately, I cannot make this trade with you."

    Bryan exined to himself, as if he was trying to justify his decision.

    "If you were just a simple murderer, maybe I could turn a blind eye, Mr. ck. But unfortunately, you killed Lily Potter. You know, this woman is not only Harry''s mother, but also the lifelong love of my respected Professor Snape. I had made up my mind that if I caught you, I would bring you to him and let him deal with you. Oh, actually, I had also made a contract with your former friend, Remus Lupin. Look at the trouble you''ve caused me. So many people are eagerly waiting to take your life¡­"

    He said, spreading his hands, sighing. He looked at Sirius with pity, as if he was sorry for him.

    "So, you see, we can''t make this deal."

    "Professor Snape¨C"

    Sirius ignored the fact about Lupin''s desire to kill him, and opened his mouth to stare at the pretentious Bryan nkly.

    "You mean, Severus Snape, that annoying snot?"

    Sirius''s emotions red up again,

    "Wait, Watson, don''t do this, I beg you. I don''t want to see Snape, or Lupin, or anyone else. I want to see Dumbledore!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0232 Explanation

    0232 Exnation

    "You want to see Dumbledore?" Bryan smiled, a cold and mocking smile that made Sirius shiver. "You hope that the good old Dumbledore will send you back to Azkaban, so that you can hide in that dark and damp prison and linger on, until the day your old master returns to the wizarding world, and grants you the supreme glory?"

    The silver-striped green snake that coiled around Sirius spat out a crimson tongue, cruelly licking Sirius''s cheek like a razor de. Bryan showed a contemptuous look, as if Sirius was nothing but a piece of dirt.

    "Don''t have those unrealistic fantasies, ck. Just follow me back to Hogwarts. Your death will release the despair and hatred that Professor Snape has umted in his heart for more than a decade. That is the only use of your insignificant life."

    As he said that, Bryan controlled the snake that tightly wrapped around Sirius and lifted him up, ready to take him away.

    Realizing that Bryan really intended to take him to Snape, Sirius finally showed panic. This panic did note from fear of death, but from humiliation. He could die for revenge, but he didn''t want to die at the hands of that annoying snot, Snape.

    Sirius didn''t know what the rtionship between Bryan Watson and Severus Snape was, nor did he know what Bryan meant by saying that Lily was Snape''s lifelong love. He certainly knew that Snape had a crush on Lily when he was in school, but a lifelong love--

    Now was not the time to dwell on these questions. This man was about to bring him to Snape and have him killed. If James knew he was in such a mess¡­

    "Don''t do this, Watson!"

    Hanging upside down, Sirius''s eyes were bloodshot and he roared with all his might, hoping that someone would hear him ande to his rescue.

    "I want to see Dumbledore, Watson. Let Remuse instead. Don''t take me to Snape. I''d rather kill myself than die in his hands!"

    <em>''A habitual w¡ª''</em>

    Bryan rolled his eyes and ignored ck''s dying struggle. He marked the house with a flick of his wand so that he coulde back and im itter. Bryan raised his wand and prepared to apparate back to the Shrieking Shack. He wouldn''t notify Professor Snape right away, because before that, he had to find a way to contact Remus. After doing that, he would inform Professor Snape toe and ''execute'' ck.

    "Listen to me, Watson!"

    Sirius, whose ribs were squeezed and creaked by the snake, shouted unwillingly at the back of Bryan''s head, trying to make him listen to the truth.

    "I am not the one who betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort. There is someone else who betrayed them!"

    Kreacher, lying on the steps leading to the kitchen, made a barely audible muttering sound as he regained consciousness from hisa. It seemed he had managed to save his life, but he was still weak and injured.

    Bryan turned his back to Sirius, and the flickering gasmps on the wall and the swaying crystal chandeliers on the ceiling cast a flickering shadow on the ground. Under the contrast of the suffocating silence, the strange noises in the old house became very clear.

    Probably after a full minute, Bryan slowly turned around. He had no expression on his face. He looked at Sirius ck, who seemed to have exhausted all his strength to say that sentence. There was a sh of light in his purple eyes, but his voice was indifferent and without any fluctuations,

    "Exin that sentence you just said, ck."

    Bryan said in an irresistible tone, but he noticed that Sirius, who had been tortured enough, was only one step away from fainting.

    After turning Sirius''s head, Bryan''s eyes pointed to a door with a big hole. He walked over with steady steps, dragging Sirius along with the snake.

    The stairs behind the door led to a kitchen connected to the dining room. The kitchen was arge and gloomy room, surrounded by rough stone walls. There was a firece at the farthest end, where a few embers were still glowing. Iron pots were hanging from the ceiling, some of them covered with dust and cobwebs.

    A long wooden table that could amodate many people and many chairs were ced in the middle of the room. There was a cupboard for utensils and tes, but most of them were broken or chipped.

    Bryan stepped over the body of the house-elf and brought Sirius to the kitchen. He threw him on the floor like a sack of potatoes and pointed his wand at him.

    The air here was much more foul than upstairs, but fortunately, the long table in the dining room seemed to be wiped clean regrly and did not umte too much dust. Bryan picked a chair and sat down, throwing Sirius onto the ground like a rag doll and crossing his legs. He looked at Sirius with a bored and impatient expression, waiting for him to regain his consciousness.

    It was not until five minutester that Sirius came to his senses. He groaned and opened his eyes, only to see Bryan''s face looming over him. Then he realized that he had saved his life, but this was not something to be happy about.

    "Exin what you just said, as simple and clear as possible, ck,"

    Bryan opened his mouth in time. He stared at Sirius''s eyes and said, in a cold and threatening tone, "A friendly reminder, Mr. ck, I don''t like to torture people, but if I find you spouting nonsense just to save your life, believe me, I will show you that there are many things in this world scarier than death.""

    Sirius supported his body with his head and sat on the ground. There was a raging fire of anger in his eyes, for Bryan''s contemptuous attitude, and for his own powerlessness. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, trying to muster some courage,

    "Harry''s red-haired friend, that boy''s pet rat is an animagus like me. Twelve years ago, he told Voldemort the hiding ce of the Potters. He is the traitor!"

    Sirius''s voice was filled with anguish and bitterness.

    "I escaped from Azkaban to kill him!"

    <em>''Ron''s pet, the rat named Scabbers, is an animagus?''</em>

    Bryan''s eyelids trembled imperceptibly. He had seen that rat once in the Leaky Cauldron this summer. He did feel a bit strange at that time, but he didn''t pay much attention to it.

    "Continue¨C"

    Bryan remained unmoved and continued to press for answers. He wanted to hear the whole story, and see if there was any evidence to support Sirius''s im.

    "At that time, when we learned that Voldemort nned to attack James and Lily, Dumbledore nned to use the Fidelius Charm to protect them, with himself as their Secret-Keeper. But James didn''t want to burden Dumbledore too much, so he suggested that I be their Secret-Keeper."

    Sirius gritted his teeth, consumed by hatred. He recalled the happy days he had spent with James and Lily, and how they had trusted him with their lives. He also recalled the horrible night when he found out that they were dead, and that Peter had betrayed them.

    "I thought Voldemort would definitely think it was me, so at thest moment I suggested James and Lily to make Peter their Secret-Keeper. I thought it was a good strategy. A switcheroo. Voldemort woulde looking for me, and if I was really killed, then Dumbledore would get the news in advance, and then move James and Lily and their son Harry to a safe ce."

    "You need to answer my question first¨C"

    As Sirius cursed Peter, Bryan closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. He felt a headacheing on, as he tried to make sense of Sirius''s story.

    "Since you knew you were innocent, ck, why didn''t you tell the truth, instead of staying in Azkaban for twelve years?"

    Tears uncontrobly streamed down Sirius''s gaunt cheeks, and his shriveled body trembled.

    "It''s all my fault, I deserve it. This is the price I should pay,"

    These secrets were supposed to be taken to the grave. Sirius never thought he would one day share them with a stranger, who might not even care about them.

    "It was me who convinced James and Lily to make that bastard their Secret-Keeper. They died because of me, and I need to atone for it."

    Bryan''s cheek twitched, showing a pained expression like he had a toothache. These Gryffindors were full of heroism, and often did things that noone could understand.

    From Sirius''s description, Bryan roughly understood why Sirius, who had been quietly staying in Azkaban for twelve years, suddenly became interested in escaping. He had seen a picture of Peter in the Daily Prophet, and realized that he was still alive and hiding as a rat. He wanted to find him and kill him, to avenge James and Lily.

    When Bryan questioned why he didn''t seek help from Dumbledore or Remus, the only ones who might believe his innocence, instead of pursuing a reckless vendetta against Peter, the real traitor.

    Sirius, who had been sobbing moments ago, suddenly looked fierce and determined.

    "It was me who killed James and Lily, and I must kill that traitor Peter with my own hands!"

    Sirius gasped in pain, as the snake tightened its grip around him.

    "And what''s the point of going to them now? They never bothered to look for me, to hear my side of the story. They abandoned me, just like everyone else. They don''t trust me, and I don''t trust them. I''ll do this on my own!"

    <em>''What kind of nonsense logic is this?''</em>

    Bryan supported his cheek with his hand, and looked sorrowful.

    Sirius ck imed that he never betrayed the Potters, and that he was wronged. But if that was true, would the Ministry of Magic still pay the bounty for his capture?

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0233 Two Problems

    0233 Two Problems

    The kitchen was like a deep, dark cave, surrounded by rough stone walls that seemed to close in on them. Most of the light came from therge firece at one end of the room, which Bryan had lit for warmth. The smoke from the chimneys filled the air, creating a gloomy and oppressive atmosphere. The heavy iron pots and pans hanging from the ckened ceiling looked menacing and terrifying in the smoky haze, as if they could fall and crush them at any moment.

    Sirius was no longer bound by the silver-striped snake, but he still did not get up. Hey on the floor, his face twitching, and his eyes full of undisguised anger as he red at Bryan.

    Bryan had heard some shocking news today, but he couldn''t simply believe ck''s side of the story. He had taken a moment to delve into ck''s mind to ensure he wasn''t being deceived by these absurd words.

    "Alright, Mr. ck, stop making that pitiful expression," Bryan cleared his throat and said impatiently, "Do you really expect me to believe your ''truth'' without any doubt after hearing it from someone I''ve never met? I have to find a way to verify the truth!"

    That was reasonable, but Sirius could not help being angry. Anyone would be furious if someone invaded their mind without permission, peering into the darkest corners of their memories that they didn''t want to revisit. He felt vited and exposed.

    "Now that you know the truth, Watson," Sirius struggled to stand up, leaning on the table for support. He sat down on a chair, breathing heavily, and stared at Bryan with a gloomy and resentful tone, "What are you going to do now?"

    "What else can I do?" Bryan sneered, looking at him sideways, his eyes like those of a parent dealing with a naughty kid who had caused trouble and asked for help. "Of course, I''ll find a way to catch that guy named Peter Pettigrew and see if I can get a bigger reward from the Ministry. Ahem-, I mean, let Wizengamot judge him and clear your name."

    Sirius: <em>*speechless*</em>

    "I don''t care about clearing my name, ck!" Sirius eximed after a brief silence, waving his hands in frustration, "I just want to send Peter to hell. Ever since I found out that vile bastard was still alive, I''ve been thinking about it day and night, dreaming of taking his life. Now that you know I''m innocent, Watson, you can help me get into the Gryffindor dormitory and catch that rat. I want to tear him apart with my own hands!"

    "It''s not that simple," Bryan chuckled coldly, "In my opinion, there are two important problems that need to be solved."

    "No problem is more important than killing Peter, Watson!"

    After spending twelve years in Azkaban, Sirius had been tormented by hatred to the point of losing his sanity. The only reason he hadn''tpletely broken down was because he wanted to avenge James and Lily. He wanted to make Peter pay for what he had done.

    Even though he knew ck was innocent, Bryan couldn''t bring himself to like the guy. On the other hand, ck didn''t like Bryan either, a young wizard who was powerful but cruel and seemed particrly obsessed with Galleons. Moreover, Bryan seemed to have a close rtionship with that slimy Snape. If possible, Sirius would rather get rid of him immediately.

    "The first problem is," Bryan looked at Sirius with a deep and piercing gaze, and raised his index finger, "I''m afraid you don''t know that Ron''s rat, Scabbers, died a month ago, on the second night after you broke into Hogwarts. Ron found bloodstains from Scabbers on his bed, and he also found some yellow hairs from Crookshanks. This almost caused a rift between Ron and Hermione, who is Harry''s friend."

    "That''s impossible!" Before Bryan could finish, ck shouted and jumped, his nails scratching the table, leaving marks on the wood. "I bet it''s a trick, that despicable scum!"

    Sirius couldn''t find a way to express his rage and could only grind his teeth.

    "He faked his death and escaped. It was the same when I cornered him on a Muggle street before going to Azkaban. He''s definitely not dead, that cowardly and shameless bastard must have sensed the danger and hid early!"

    "Don''t shout nonsense," Bryan said coldly, his voice cutting through the smoky air like a knife. "Who do you think caused this trouble, Mr. ck? Whether it was when Voldemort fell or when you just got out of Azkaban for touring, Dumbledore had plenty of means to clear your name and send Peter to Azkaban for the rest of his life.

    But now, we have to find a rat, and this rat could be anywhere, ck. Maybe your brain is rusty, or maybe you don''t have a brain at all, but I still want to ask you, what are you going to do?, spend the rest of your life chasing a rat around the world? Let me remind you ording to Muggle scientist''s statistics, there are approximately two billion rats in the world.

    I''m sure you''re thrilled to hear that because you finally have something to upy your overly energetic self!"

    If it were a dozen years ago, faced with such an insult, Sirius would have drawn his wand and dueled Bryan. Even now, hearing Bryan''s words, he had the same thought in his mind. But the reality was cruel. He didn''t have a wand, and at least until Peter was dead, he had to keep himself alive.

    "I know Peter," Sirius''s face turned red, and he exined with a panting voice, his eyes shining with determination. "I bet he''s still at Hogwarts. He wouldn''t dare to leave because that would mean giving up the protection of the Ministry and Dumbledore. He''s a coward and a traitor, and he knows I''m after him."

    "So what?" Bryan still had a displeased expression, his lips curled in a sneer. "Are you suggesting we tear Hogwarts apart, digging three feet underground? Do you think Dumbledore will let us do that? Do you think the other students and teachers will stand by and watch? Do you think Peter will just sit there and wait for us?"

    Sirius fell silent, but Bryan continued with another finger raised, his eyes narrowing. "The second issue is, why should I help you, ck? This is a mess you created, and you caused me to lose a reward of fifty thousand Galleons. Do you have any idea how much money that is?"

    He paused for a moment, as if expecting Sirius to answer, but Sirius just red at him.

    "I could have pretended I didn''t hear anything from you tonight and just killed you. No one would me me, not Dumbledore, not Remus not even Harry. Cornelius Fudge might even be grateful to me and personally award me a Order Of Merlin First ss Medal for helping the Ministry solve a big problem. I would be a hero, ck, a hero!"

    He spat out thest word with sarcasm,

    "Of course, I''m not that heartless. Knowing that you''re innocent, I won''t kill you just to get the reward. But why should I help you get into Gryffindor and catch Peter? You should be grateful for my kindness for not killing you!"

    If possible, Sirius wanted to curse and swear at Bryan. He wanted to tell him that he was a greedy and selfish bastard, that he had no sense of loyalty or honor, that he didn''t deserve to be a wizard.

    He never intended to reveal the truth about James and Lily''s sacrifice, nor did he want anyone else''s help. Otherwise, he would have gone to Remus long time ago. It was only because he had been careless and was caught by Bryan who wanted to pack him to Snape that he finally spoke up.

    But he couldn''t say those words because he could tell that Bryan-Watson was undoubtedly a Slytherin. He wouldn''t show pity just because Sirius was innocent or help him seek justice.

    "Come with me to see Dumbledore at Hogwarts," Bryan said indifferently after a long silence, his tone t and emotionless. "For the sake of Harry and Remus, I won''t let the murderer of the Potters go unpunished¡­ But as for how to catch Peter, you can discuss it with Dumbledore and Remus. I have my own matters to attend to. Now that I''m sure you won''t harm Harry, I''ll be leaving Hogwarts soon after dealing with your troubles."

    "No!" Sirius stubbornly refused when he heard that Bryan wanted him to exin everything to Dumbledore, his voice hoarse and desperate. "I won''t tell anyone the truth. I don''t want to see them until I kill Peter!"

    "What''s the matter?" Bryan mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now you feel ashamed of your foolishness? Unfortunately, Mr. ck, I can''t ignore the information I''ve heard. I also don''t want to y your boring revenge game. I didn''t sleep all night. After dealing with your troubles, I hope I can at least make it in time for breakfast at Hogwarts!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0234 A Deal

    0234 A Deal

    "Dumbledore and Remus, I don''t want to see either of them now!" Sirius shouted, his voice hoarse with anger and pain.

    He took a quick step back, avoiding Bryan''s hand that reached out to grab his shoulder.

    "I won''t ask for your help, Watson. As long as you don''t reveal my secret to them, I''ll find a way to catch Peter myself!"

    "Save it, ck." Bryan said coldly, his frown deepening. "No matter what, I am the Director of Student Safety Office. ck, don''t expect me to let you run wild in the castle. Whether it''s Dumbledore or Remus, someone needs to monitor your actions."

    Bryan had figured out Sirius''s character. Perhaps he was loyal to his friends, but he was also a stubborn and arrogant fool. He had a reckless disregard for the rules and the consequences of his actions. Letting him run wild in the castle would inevitably cause trouble. If this trouble only involved himself, it wouldn''t matter, but the potential result could harm the young wizards in the castle. Bryan couldn''t allow that to happen.

    "Don''t make me use magic to force you, ck." Bryan impatiently threatened, waving his wand in a menacing gesture. "You know I''m more powerful than you. You don''t stand a chance against me."

    Sirius clenched his fist tightly, ring at Bryan fiercely. He hated to admit it, but Bryan was right. He had lost his wand and couldn''t use spells, and he knew that even if he had his wand, he couldn''t put up a decent resistance.

    The only way he could express his anger might be to suddenly transform into a dog and give Bryan a bite when he wasn''t paying attention! But that would be foolish and futile. How could he convince Bryan not to hand him over to Dumbledore?

    Sirius desperately thought about this question, and suddenly, the sparks exploding in the firece gave him an inspiration. He remembered something that might sway Bryan''s mind. He hurriedly said,

    "Wait, Watson, I want to make a deal with you!"

    <em>''A deal?''</em>

    Bryan raised an eyebrow, and something shed in his eyes.

    Noticing the change in his expression, Sirius felt a secret joy. He knew how to deal with this powerful and somewhat excessive young wizard.

    "Don''t hand me over to Dumbledore and Remus, help me enter Hogwarts to find Peter. If you can agree to this," Sirius gasped, as if he was making a great sacrifice,

    "You want the bounty money from the Ministry on me, right, Watson? How much was it, fifty thousand Galleons? No problem, I can pay you that!"

    Bryan pursed his lips, his expression showing intense ''struggle''.

    "No, Mr. ck¨C" Bryan shook his head and said, trying to sound noble and virtuous. "I can''t give up my principles for money. I''ve said before, letting you run wild in Hogwarts may harm those innocent and lovely young wizards. I can''t pretend to ignore this possibility, Mr. ck. My conscience would condemn me!"

    <em>''Principles and conscience, do you really have any of that, Bryan Watson!''</em> Sirius thought scornfully.

    "I just want to kill Peter, Watson." Sirius''s pale face turned livid. "Unless I''ve gone mad, I will never harm those children. They have nothing to do with this. Alright, let''s stick to the previous number, I''ll pay double the price for my freedom!"

    <em>''These spoiled rich kids are so annoying''</em>

    Bryan thought indignantly!

    "The smooth-talking, ungrateful young master is lying again. He doesn''t have a single galleon in his pocket, but he dares to lie to a powerful wizard¨C" A croaky voice interrupted their conversation.

    Suddenly, Kreacher, the old and ugly house-elf who had been eavesdropping on the stairs, slowly crawled out. Its voice made both Bryan and Sirius change their expressions.

    Bryan didn''t need to say anything, he immediately scrutinized Sirius, his gaze suspicious. He wondered if Kreacher was telling the truth, if Sirius was really broke and desperate.

    And Sirius, who noticed that Kreacher was still alive, looked surprised for a moment, but his eyes quickly shed with relief. However, as soon as he regained hisposure, he immediately asked in a sinister tone,

    "So, you''ve been pretending to be dead all this time, Kreacher. When did you be so clever? Never mind that, what do you mean by saying I don''t have a single coin in my pocket? If I remember correctly, the ck family''s Gringotts vault should be filled with mountains of galleons and arge number of antique gold items, umted over several centuries, worth at least hundreds of thousands?"

    Bryan''s lips tightened even more at the mention of hundreds of thousands. He really wanted to rob Gringotts.

    After being beaten up by Bryan, Kreacher''s attitude became much more respectful. It walked down the stairs with a limp and stopped in front of Bryan, pressing its fleshy nose to the ground, as if it was worshipping him.

    "Kreacher apologizes for the previous rudeness, esteemed powerful wizard. Kreacher knows he has offended you greatly. Therefore, Kreacher must tell the truth. My noble mistress hates the young master. The young master is a prodigal who no longer cares about the family''s honor. He has betrayed the pure-blood ideals of the ck family. She doesn''t want to leave any property to the young master. So, before her death, my noble mistress left a will, distributing everything in the vault to Miss Betrix and Miss Narcissa. Kreacher likes the two youngdies. They are much nobler than the young master¨C"

    Sirius''s face visibly darkened, even though his original expression was already unpleasant.

    Just as Kreacher said, he didn''t care about the so-called honor of the ck family. Of course, he didn''t care about those boring galleons either. He had never been interested in money or material things. However, his mother would rather give all the wealth to ''outsiders'' than leave it to him, which hurt his feelings.

    "Just like something my mother would do-" Sirius sneered dryly, trying to hide his pain.

    But then he noticed that Watson''s gaze towards him was a bit off. His heart skipped a few beats, and he quickly said,

    "I have my own vault, Watson. My uncle Alphard left me a sum of money in the underground vault of Gringotts.!"

    Saying that, Sirius fumbled in his tattered shirt and quickly pulled out a small piece of parchment, still bearing the Gringotts seal.

    "What is this?" Bryan asked, curiously taking the parchment from Sirius. He had never had stored money in Gringotts before. He had always kept his money in a secret ce, hidden from prying eyes. He didn''t trust the goblins, or anyone else for that matter.

    "I used an owl to help Harry order a Firebolt, using the money from my own vault. When he waspeting, those Dementors caused his broom to turn into a pile of splinters. This is the receipt from Gringotts, stating that there is still over thirty thousand in my vault." Sirius exined.

    "Sorry, Mr. ck." Bryan said, coldly handing back the parchment to Sirius. But, He was a bit surprised, that Sirius cared so much about Harry.

    But Bryan remained unmoved. He calmly said, "I''ve thought it over carefully, and I still can''t trust you to roam around Hogwarts. In my opinion, we should go see Dumbledore. He must have a way to help you find Peter."

    <em>''Greedy and shameless scoundrel, a Slytherin-born viin!''</em>

    Sirius thought indignantly.

    "I only have this much now, Watson!" Sirius gritted his teeth and said, desperately trying to change Bryan''s mind. "If you''re not satisfied, there might be some valuable old things in this house that you can take!"

    Upon hearing this, Kreacher immediately widened its reddened eyes and was about to scream. However, when it tried to do so, it found that it couldn''t make a sound at all because Bryan had already blocked its voice and movements!

    "Don''t think too badly of me," Bryan shook his head and defended himself, as he pointed his wand at Kreacher. He had noticed the house-elf''s reaction, and he quickly silenced it.

    "I''m not after your wealth, Mr. ck. I just want to get the reward I deserve, that is, the fifty thousand Galleons from the Ministry for you. But since you''ve lost your family inheritance and don''t have enough money, well, I have an idea¨C"

    Sirius didn''t notice Kreacher''s strange behavior. He stared at Bryan, angrily saying,

    "Tell me your n, Watson. I want to know how you can agree not to hand me over to Dumbledore and Remus!"

    "Well, here it is!" Bryan''s face changed, and he enthusiastically looked around the kitchen.

    "Since you don''t have enough gold coins topensate for my loss, in my opinion, you can temporarily mortgage the right to use this house to me for a year. After a year, if you manage to gather enough money, I''ll return the house to you. If you can''t do it by then, well, with interest, you''ll need to hand over the right to use the house to me for two years. If you still can''t repay the mortgage after three years, the mortgage period will be four years¨C"

    Looking at Sirius''s unexpected expression, Bryan smiled.

    "Of course, while you''re still alive, I''ll allow you to live in this house." Bryan said, ''generously''.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0235 Tom

    0235 Tom

    Although Bryan was eager to start cleaning his new house so that it could befortable and pleasant as soon as possible, He knew that he didn''t have time to deal with it now, as he had more urgent matters to attend to. So, he had no choice but to give an order to Kreacher, Sirius''s howling and viciously cursing house-elf, to sit and wait until the Christmas holiday when he would return.

    "Don''t cry, Kreacher," Sirius snapped impatiently, "You heard everything, didn''t you? I just temporarily mortgaged the Manor, I didn''t n to sell it. Once I get rid of Peter, I''ll quickly gather the Fifty Thousand Galleons and buy it back."

    "Oh, how my poor mistress would react if she knew that the young master had given away the old house of the ck family, how she would hate him, oh, she would be disappointed in Kreacher, Kreacher watched all this happen but couldn''t stop the young master from doing stupid things -" the elf wailed, rocking back and forth.

    <em>''Tsk tsk, This house-elf is indeed not very likable.''</em>

    Bryan wondered if he should sell him to the underground world, where he had heard that there was a high demand for house-elves. A few months ago, a rogue wizard had unleashed a beast that had ughtered many of the house-elves that worked in the underground world. Since then, the house-elves had fled in terror, leaving behind a shortage ofbor. Bryan could make a good profit if he sold Kreacher now.

    <em>''Do not disclose anything heard tonight to any third party in any way.''</em>

    Bryan gave Kreacher a sternmand, making sure that the elf nodded in understanding. Then, with a loud bang, he grabbed Sirius by the arm and apparated back to the Shrieking Shack.

    During their absence, the copsed kitchen of the Shrieking Shack had been covered with a thickyer of falling snow. The sound of the cold wind whistling through the cracks and holes of the dpidated house was like the wailing of a female ghost, sending shivers down Bryan''s spine.

    He waved his wand, and the damaged bricks, broken boards, and shattered beams on the ground awakened from their slumber. They struggled to stand up, shook off the umted snow, and flew back into the air to reassemble themselves. In an instant, the house returned to its original state, as if nothing had happened.

    Although Bryan had decided not to use the Shrieking Shack anymore, he still repaired it. The house stood on a hillside, overlooking the vige of Hogsmeade. It was a well-known haunted house, and Bryan didn''t want to attract any unwanted attention. If some busybody came to investigate why the house suddenly copsed, it could cause unnecessary trouble and may expose his secrets.

    "This cat, you said its name is Crookshanks, it''s freezing!" Sirius, who had rushed into the house, said angrily, holding a ginger cat in his arms. The cat looked half-dead, its eyes closed and its body limp.

    "As long as it''s still breathing, I can revive it," Bryan said, pointing his wand at Crookshanks'' stiff body. A red light shed across the ginger fur, and white steam rose. The cat twitched and opened its eyes, letting out a weak meow. Bryan then took out a bottle of homemade potion from his pocket, tapped the bottle with his wand, and the swirling liquid turned into a flowing stream that flew into Crookshanks'' nostrils. The cat sneezed and shook its head, then looked around with curiosity.

    "How did you get mixed up with this cat?" Bryan asked casually, as he stroked Crookshanks'' fur.

    "This cat is very clever. I guess it has some Kneazle blood because it recognized at first sight that I''m not a dog," Sirius said, stroking Crookshanks and clicking his tongue. "It took me some time to make it understand who I am and what I want to do. Since then, it has been helping me gather information and find food. I can''t roam around freely because of the Dementors and Aurors in the vige. It also tried to bring Peter to me, but it didn''t seed."

    "Speaking of which¡ª" Bryan said, as he noticed the papers scattered on the living room floor and the remains of small animals in the kitchen. They were the evidence of his research. He whipped the air a few times like conducting an orchestra, and those things gathered themselves in the hallway and turned into ashes in a dazzling green me. He didn''t want to leave any traces behind.

    "This house, mainly the secret passage, how did you find it?"

    This question, if exined in detail, would involve some secrets of Remus. Logically speaking, Dumbledore had recruited Remus as a professor at Hogwarts, and Bryan, the Director of the Student Safety Office, could not possibly be unaware of Remus''s werewolf identity. But Sirius didn''t dare to take the risk, if Dumbledore and Remus hadn''t told Watson about this, then he might bring trouble to his old friend.

    So, Sirius decided to be vague and evasive. He said, "We used this secret passage frequently when we were in school,"

    "We?" Bryan repeated, narrowing his eyes. He sensed that Sirius was hiding something. "So, Remus actually knew about the secret passage under the Whomping Willow. Well, I guess he should also know that you are Animagus¡­ He had so many opportunities to reveal all this, but when I heard from Harry tonight that there is a secret passage here, he acted as if it was the first time he heard about it."

    Sirius remained silent, just ying with Crookshanks, whose limbs were already twitching unconsciously. He could roughly guess why Remus didn''t say anything when he didn''t know he was innocent. His old friend regarded Dumbledore as a benefactor and was afraid of disappointing him. He feared that Dumbledore would be displeased or even angry with their reckless behavior.

    Another piece of information from Bryan caught Sirius'' attention.

    <em>''How did Harry find out about the secret passage under the Whomping Willow?''</em>

    So, He tried to change the subject and said, "Everyone who knows James Potter says that Harry looks a lot like his father. I guess he inherited some kind of talent," Sirius said, with a hint of pride in his voice. "That boy really resembles James! His Quidditch talent is just as outstanding as James''!"

    He smiled, remembering the good old days when he and James had yed Quidditch together, flying through the air with grace and skill.

    At this moment, Crookshanks in Sirius''s arms finally fully regained consciousness. Without understanding what had happened, it immediately bared its teeth and ws, hissing at Bryan.

    "Don''t get agitated, Crookshanks. We have exined everything, and now, Bryan won''t be hostile towards us!" Sirius said, trying to calm the cat down. He held Crookshanks close to his chest and quickly exined the situation.

    "It''s not my fault¡ª" Bryan said innocently, raising his hands in defense. "Who could have expected such a turn of events? Before, I thought you were an aplice to a heinous criminal, so my actions werepletely justified, right?"

    Crookshanks made a growling sound, looking dissatisfied.

    Bryan sighed, knowing that he couldn''t win the cat''s approval. He decided to ignore him and focus on the more pressing matters. He looked out of the window and saw that the night was almost over. The snow continued to fall, but a faint pink dawn appeared in the sky. He knew they had to leave soon, before anyone noticed them.

    He said to Sirius, "In my opinion, it''s best for you to stay at home or hide in the mountains like before. I will regrly bring you food. But if you insist on going to school to cause mischief, then we''ll have to find a way to disguise you."

    "I can just use my Animagus form. I can disguise myself very well, and no one can recognize me!" Sirius dismissed Bryan''s suggestion, thinking it was too cautious.

    Bryan rolled his eyes, and said sarcastically, "I suggest you take a trip to Azkaban and see if you left your brain there when you escaped.

    If you want to stay in the castle for a long time, it''s inevitable that you''ll run into Remus. He knows you''re an Animagus and what you look like in your transformed state. And, as a reminder, on the basis of our transaction, I''ll tell you that while Animagus is a perfect disguise in terms of magic and appearance, from a soul perspective, you are still Sirius ck. Unfortunately, our esteemed Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has the ability to observe a person''s soul. So, you better be clever."

    Sirius had a gloomy expression. He asked, "Then what do you suggest?"

    Bryan had already considered this question when they were in the ck family''s ancestral home. He had thought of a way to give Sirius a new identity, one that would allow him to enter the school without arousing suspicion.

    He smiled, looking at Crookshanks. He had decided to use the cat as a part of his n.

    He pointed his wand at Sirius, and Sirius''s gaze suddenly became sharp and alert. He said, "What are you nning, Watson!"

    "Of course, I''m going to arrange a new identity for you. Do you expect me to bring a wanted criminal back so openly?" Bryan said, with a mischievous smile. He looked at Crookshanks, who was still hissing at him.

    "Don''t worry, I won''t hurt you or your friend. I have a brilliant idea that will make you both very happy.

    From today on, you will be the stray cat that Crookshanks found outside. Hmm, I think ''Tom'' would be a good name for you."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0236 Meeting After Years

    0236 Meeting After Years

    When Bryan returned to Hogwarts through the secret passage under the Shrieking Shack with two cats, the snow had stopped, but the sky remained gloomy, with the cold wind still howling over the twn and yground. The snow crunched under his boots as he walked, leaving a trail of footprints behind him. He pulled his cloak tighter around him, feeling the chill in the air.

    Hagrid was walking towards the Forbidden Forest with Fang, his loyal boarhound. He waved hisrge hand at Bryan and shouted something that was lost in the wind. Bryan waved back and smiled, d to see the friendly half-giant. He could see Professor Sprout in the distance, wearing a thick coat and a woolen hat. She was inspecting the greenhouse, checking on her nts and flowers to see if they had been damaged by the cold. She looked up and saw Bryan, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Bryan waved at her from a distance and hurried towards the castle, hoping to warm up.

    There was no shortage of diligent people anywhere. When Bryan entered the entrance hall, he was surprised to see several seventh-year students already having breakfast. They were sitting at the long tables, chatting andughing, oblivious to the cold outside. Percy Weasley was sitting near the entrance, holding a copy of "Practical Defensive Magic and Its Countermeasures against Dark Arts," a thick tome that looked very advanced. He was devouring a te of sausages, as if he needed the energy to fuel his brain. His red hair was neatlybed, and his sses were perched on his nose.

    "Good morning, Professor Waton," Percy said, noticing Bryan looking at him. He quickly swallowed his food and eagerly approached. He nced briefly at the two kittens in Professor Waton''s arms and then averted his gaze, as if he didn''t want to be distracted by anything cute.

    "Is there anything I can help you with?"

    "I remember you were supposed to be on patrolst night, Percy," Bryan said, clicking his tongue. "Didn''t you get enough rest?"

    Percy took this as apliment and proudly straightened his chest, disying his shiny Head Boy badge.

    "I''m not tired, Professor. I''m nning to visit the library before the morning sses start. You know, the second half of the term is approaching, and I need to make sure I don''t make any mistakes, If I want to work at the Ministry of Magic, that is. Of course, if you have any orders for me¡­" He looked at Bryan expectantly, hoping for some praise or guidance.

    "I don''t need you to do anything, Percy," Bryan said, patting Percy''s shoulder appreciatively.. He admired his dedication and his work ethic. People who have ideals and are willing to work hard for them are always worthy of admiration.

    The smell of food in the Great Hall was making the two cats in Bryan''s arms restless, especially the ck one. After months of eating weird foods, he was salivating at the sight of the bacon, sausages, and eggs on the tes. He could smell the butter, the cheese, the toast, and the jam. He meowed and struggled to break free, wanting to get to the food.

    Bryan realized he couldn''t let Sirius cause a scene in the Great Hall, where there were hundreds of students and teachers. So, he asked Percy to pack some food and bring it to his office, hoping to appease Sirius''s hunger. He also asked him to bring some milk for Crookshanks, who was much calmer than Sirius, but still hungry. Percy agreed, and hurried to the kitchen, where the house-elves were busy preparing the food.

    Thest time Sirius infiltrated the castle, he was only focused on breaking into the Gryffindor dormitory, killing Peter, and leaving immediately. He had no interest in anything else. But now, the situation was different. Sirius was perched on Bryan''s shoulder, looking around excitedly and not paying attention tomands. He was fascinated by the castle, which he had not seen for years.

    "If you don''t behave, I''ll lock you up in a cage, got it?" Bryan grabbed Sirius by the ear and scolded him, while also freeing Mrs.Norris, who had been trapped in a suit of armor.

    Sirius: Meow! <em>(Trantion: Can''t you see? Filch''s cat is was yelling at me for no reason!)</em> He pointed his paw at Mrs.Norris, the caretaker''s cat, who had been following them with a suspicious look.

    Bryan rolled his eyes and sighed. Although he knew that animal transformation wouldn''t cause any idents, Bryan still felt relieved when he entered his office, closed the door, and let out a sigh.

    Sirius was starving, and after taking a quick look at the wall covered by arge ck curtain in the office, he pounced on the bag in Bryan''s hand, hoping for a good meal. He tore open the bag with his teeth, and started to eat the food that Percy had packed.

    Bryan lit the firece, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere. He pulled back the curtains, letting in the faint light of the morning. He slumped into his chair behind the desk, feeling exhausted and worried.

    After this night, his mission had taken a dramatic turn.

    He still needed to find someone, but now it had changed from ck to Peter.

    To be honest, this task had be much more challenging. Before, all he had to do was keep ck away from Harry, and protect him from harm. But now, he had to actively lure out a rat hiding in the shadows, and expose him for what he was.

    And this rat was extremely cautious and patient. There was no chance it would show itself easily. It had been hiding for years, and it knew how to survive.

    "When we were at the house, you said that guy Peter wouldn''t leave Hogwarts and would stay close to Harry, right?"

    Sirius scratched his beard, signaling Bryan to change him back. He felt ufortable in his cat form, especially after eating so much. He wanted to stretch his limbs, and to speak his mind.

    "That''s right, I can guarantee that," he said, as soon as he regained his human shape.

    Being in human form was more convenient for eating. With both hands holding food and asionally speaking, Sirius said, "I know Peter. Leaving Hogwarts means he won''t enjoy the protection Dumbledore and the Ministry provide for Harry anymore. He can''t leave here, and he must ensure he receives thetest news from the wizarding world in a timely manner."

    Bryan nodded in agreement, and a vague idea formed in his mind.

    He wanted to know more about Peter, but Sirius clearly couldn''t provide any objective evaluation. He would only rant about how Peter was a despicable, cowardly, and sneaky person who liked to follow powerful wizards in the hope of gaining protection.

    But was Peter really as bad as Sirius described? Bryan didn''t think so.

    Meticulous, extremely patient, quite cunning, and with a certain amount of courage. Based on sporadic descriptions, Bryan formed his own opinion of Peter.

    "Courage?!" Sirius didn''t say anything about the previous points, but he couldn''t tolerate Bryan''sst evaluation. "Are you saying that bastard is also a courageous person, Waton? That''s ridiculous! If he had even a shred of courage, he wouldn''t be a disgusting traitor!" He shouted, his face turning red with rage.

    "As you said, he is a traitor. But since Peter dared to betray his friends and secretly passed information to Voldemort under Dumbledore''s nose for over a year, it proves that he is not a coward without any courage, ck," Bryan saidzily, crossing his fingers on his raised knee. He leaned back on his chair, and looked at Sirius calmly.

    Sirius was about to retort, but before he could say anything, Bryan suddenly stood up from his chair, waved his wand dramatically, and Sirius found himself transformed back into a small ck cat.

    "Remus is right outside, don''t give yourself away," Bryan said, in a low and urgent voice.

    <em>''Remus?!''</em>

    The sausage that Sirius had been holding in his paw fell to the ground. He spun in circles on the couch and quickly darted under a cushion. But Crookshanks, who was crawling on the couch, swiped the cushion away with a paw, and his peculiar gaze made Sirius snap out of his thoughts. He realized that he wasn''t in his wizard or Animagus form, so Remus couldn''t recognize him.

    "Just now, Percy asked me a question about Defense Against The Dark Arts defense, and I learned from him that you had returned to the castle," Remus said as he walked briskly into the office.

    "How are you, Bryan? Do you have¡­ this cat?" Remus quickly approached Bryan''s desk and noticed the two cats curled up on the sofa. He was momentarily surprised by Crookshanks'' size, but when his gaze fell on the ck cat, which seemed particrly nervous and tense, Remus suddenly stopped in his tracks, and his solemn expression subtly changed. He felt a strange sensation, a mix of curiosity and familiarity. He felt drawn to the ck cat, and he couldn''t exin why.

    <em>''It''s strange, why do I feel so familiar with this ck cat? I''ve never had any interaction with cats before.''</em>

    When their eyes met in mid-air, Remus felt an even stronger sense of sadness emanating from the ck cat. But this was too strange.

    <em>''How could an animal have suchplex emotions? And why did it make him feel so familiar?''</em> Remus thought in astonishment.

    Sirius tried his best to avoid making eye contact with Remus, but he couldn''t help but take a closer look at his old friend. And in that moment, when his gaze fell on Remus, a wave of uncontroble sadness surged from his heart, causing his cat body to tremble.

    Remus had aged a lot. His temples were gray, his cheeks were lined with wrinkles, and he looked frail and thin. Even his posture seemed slightly hunched, like an old man in his twilight years.

    Werewolves had a difficult time in the wizarding world, and Sirius knew that. But he couldn''t pretend that he had no connection to Remus when faced with his current appearance.

    "This cat..." Remus said, sensing sadness and guilt in the ck cat''s eyes. But this was weird. How could an animal convey such rich emotions? And why did it make him feel so familiar?

    "This yellow cat is named Crookshanks. It''s Hermione''s pet. Because it''s not well-behaved, Hermione left it in Hagrid''s care. But it loves to wander around Hogsmeade, and I found it therest night. The ck one is an old friend that Crookshanks found in the wild," Bryan exined casually.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0237 Mistakes in the Past

    0237 Mistakes in the Past

    "Perhaps I have met him somewhere before -"

    Remus smiled, looking a bit disappointed. His amber eyes searched Bryan''s face for a hint of recognition, but found none. He finally looked away and said to Bryan, "So, you didn''t find anythingst night?"

    "Obv-iously not-"

    Bryan stretchedzily, walked to the firece, and poured himself a cup of tea from the hot teapot. The steam rose from the cup, carrying a faint aroma of mint and honey. He turned his back to Remus and said, "I have checked all the secret passages that Filch doesn''t know about. I didn''t find any clues rted to ck. And I have sealed the secret passage under the Whomping Willow."

    Remus didn''t know whether to be happy or disappointed with this result. He hadplicated feelings about his old friend, who had betrayed him and his other friends so horribly. In any case, he left the office looking lost and reminded Bryan that he would transform again in a few days and asked for his help with the ss. Then he walked out of the office, feeling the weight of his secret on his shoulders.

    Bryan held the teacup and looked at Tom, who waszily hanging his ears, without saying a word.

    After a while, Sirius asked Bryan to turn him back to his original form and asked in a gloomy tone, "So, you already know that Remus is a werewolf?"

    "Since Dumbledore brought him in as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he definitely wouldn''t hide it from the Board of Governors and the Ministry of Magic. The professors at the school also taught him before, so they have known for a long time that Remus is a werewolf. As for me¡­"

    Bryan took a sip of tea and smiled.

    "I knew him before bing colleagues with Remus."

    Sirius seemed very interested, and Bryan briefly told him,

    "¨CI''m sure you know about the underground world in Knockturn Alley. In recent years, Remus has been hanging out there to make a living. Of course, he hasn''t done much illegal activities. When he transforms every month, he goes to the forest or the wilderness alone to endure that period. After the transformation, he would also gather some herbs from the forest to sell. However, he doesn''t seem to be good at it, and most of the time, he can''t sell much. He barely makes enough to buy food and clothes."

    Seeing Sirius listening attentively, Bryan thought for a moment and continued,

    "In the early years, I mean when Voldemort just fell, the Wizarding world had deep prejudices against werewolves. At that time, Remus was forced to follow Greyback for a while. But he obviously couldn''t stand Greyback''s cruel methods. He was just pretending to work for him. Well, that''s about it."

    "Before-, I mean when we just graduated from Hogwarts,"

    Sirius said with a gloomy expression,

    "Remus didn''t have a good time. He didn''t want to ept my help. James had some rtives who owned businesses and he wanted to introduce Remus to work there, but Remus was afraid of causing trouble for James and refused."

    Sirius took a deep breath and pushed those unpleasant memories out of his mind. Then, he looked at the young wizard leaning against the firece with a strange look in his eyes.

    "I suddenly noticed something, Watson."

    Hmm¨C

    Bryan made a questioning sound with his nose.

    "You graduated from Slytherin, right? That¡¯s quite unusual. Howe a wizard from that house dares to utter Voldemort¡¯s name out loud?¡±

    Sirius said sarcastically,

    "In those years, Slytherin was almost a reserve force for Death Eaters. Many Slytherins we knew became core members of the Death Eaters after graduation, including that slimy Snape. You have a good rtionship with him, right? Hasn''t he told you about his glorious past?"

    "I don''t see how you are qualified to mock Professor Snape, ck."

    Bryan said coldly,

    "Indeed, Professor Snape may have made some wrong choices when he was young and ignorant, but he has been working for Dumbledore all these years, hoping to make up for the mistakes he made in his youth. And what about you, ck? After your foolish suggestion led to the death of the Potters, what did you do? To put it nicely, voluntarily entering Azkaban is an act of atonement. To put it bluntly, you just wanted to avoid the guilt on your conscience.

    In my opinion, Professor Snape is much braver than you, ck. If you really have the courage, why don''t you take up the responsibility of raising Harry? As far as I know, you are his godfather, right?"

    "I did consider doing that!"

    Sirius stood up with a bang, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. He clenched his fists and red at Bryan, who was sitting calmly on the armchair.

    "On the night the Potters were killed, I wanted to raise Harry, but Hagrid said Dumbledore wanted to arrange for Harry to stay with his aunt!"

    "Just as you intended, right?"

    Bryan said with a sneer,

    "Compared to the responsibility of raising a child, it seems that seeking revenge suits your hot-headed personality better."

    He paused and added sarcastically,

    "After all, you are the one who suggested the Potters to use the Fidelius Charm and switch their Secret Keeper at thest minute, right?"

    Unable to win a fight or an argument, and not even able to storm out, Sirius was so angry that he felt like his lungs were about to explode.

    However, before he could ask any questions, Bryan''s next words stunned him, and he fell into a long silence.

    "Last summer, I visited Harry''s aunt and uncle because of some things. In private, he told me that he had been living in a cupboard under the stairs beforeing to Hogwarts. Obviously, the Potters were very happy to see Harry grow up in such a ''luxurious'' environment, right?"

    Bryan''s voice was dripping with sarcasm, but also with pity and anger.

    The room fell silent, and the argument came to an end.

    For the rest of the morning, Siriusy motionless on the couch, not even reacting to Crookshanks''s curious poking. The ginger cat had sensed the tension in the air, and had decided to leave the two men alone. It seemed that Sirius had been deeply affected by Bryan''s sharp words.

    "What are your ns for the Christmas holiday, Bryan?"

    After two sses in the morning, just before lunch, Professor McGonagall walked out of her office and went upstairs to knock on Bryan''s office door. She had a parchment in her hand, and a worried look on her face.

    "Well, I n to visit my orphanage, Professor. Do you have any suggestions¨C"

    <em>''He is an orphan?''</em> Upon hearing the word orphanage, Tom(Sirius) on the couch raised his head, looking a bit stunned, and looked at Bryan, who was standing at the door talking. Suddenly, he seemed to understand.

    "Well, Bryan,"

    Professor McGonagall squeezed the parchment in her hand, looking a bit hesitant,

    "This is the list of students who have applied to stay at school during the Christmas holiday. Considering that ck is still on the loose, so¨C"

    Bryan blinked, "Who are on the list?"

    "Mr. Potter is definitely one of them,"

    Professor McGonagall sighed and said, "This child has nowhere else to go. And then, Granger and Weasley will stay to apany him!"

    Malfoy and his two followers from Slytherin were not going home for Christmas either. There were also a few senior students from Hufflepuff and Ravenw who stayed to prepare for the NEWT exams. Gryffindor had the trio, and Neville was also forced to stay at school because of his lost wand.

    "Speaking of Neville''s wand¨C"

    Bryan suddenly came back to his senses and took out the wand from his pocket to show Professor McGonagall.

    "I identally found it while taking a walk in the yard yesterday."

    "Oh, thank goodness!"

    Professor McGonagall immediately eximed with joy,

    "I tried to persuade Mr. Longbottom for a long time, and even offered to write a letter to Augusta for him, but he just didn''t dare to go back. Now, Mr. Longbottom can finally go home for Christmas. Well, as for taking care of the children during the holiday, since you have ns¨C"

    Professor McGonagall hesitated for a moment, "I''ll go ask Remus. He shouldn''t have any extra travel ns."

    She smiled warmly at Bryan, and thanked him for his help.

    Feeling guilty about Harry''s situation, Sirius was once again struck in the heart by the conversation between them.

    Bryan settled his lunch in the office. He had a simple meal of bread and cheese, and a ss of water. He was not very hungry, and he had more important things to do. During the break before ss, Bryan locked the door with a click and prepared to go to the Gryffindormon room to return Mr. Longbottom''s wand and retrieve his own spare wand.

    The "adorable" Tom obviously wanted to follow along, but he was mercilessly rejected,

    "Keep an eye on Tom and don''t cause any trouble, Crookshanks."

    After giving this order, Bryan locked the door and disappeared from the sight of the two unhappy cats.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0238 Festive Atmosphere

    0238 Festive Atmosphere

    This was the penultimate week before the end of the semester.

    Unlike the tense and stressful atmosphere of the second half of the school year, when exams and assignments loomed over the students, the atmosphere before the end of the first half of the school year had always been warm and pleasant. Even the strict and demanding professors were slightly more lenient and forgiving of the students during this time.

    During the lunch break, the Gryffindormon room was more lively and cheerful than usual.

    Among Harry''s roommates, Dean and Seamus had already started eagerly and excitedly packing their bags to go home. They were looking forward to seeing their families and friends, and enjoying the festive season. And Percy, the eldest Weasley brother, took advantage of this opportunity to persuade Ron to go home for Christmas.

    "Fred, George, and Ginny are all going home. Even Charlie will rush back from Romania to spend Christmas with Mum and Dad. It''s just you, Ron!"

    After learning that Ron had signed his name on Professor McGonagall''s form, indicating that he would stay at Hogwarts for the holidays, Percy immediately sought him out and said unhappily.

    "Bill is also in Egypt, so he can''t go home."

    "Bill can''t go home because he hasn''t been able to get rid of the goblins at Gringotts," Percy said triumphantly, as if that was a valid excuse. But after Ron gestured to Harry to pretend he hadn''t heard anything, Percy frowned and walked away reluctantly, muttering under his breath.

    "You don''t have to do this, Ron," Harry said sincerely, feeling grateful and guilty at the same time. "This is a time for family reunion, and you should go home and spend time with Mrs. Weasley. She''ll be happy to see you."

    "Oh, you don''t understand, Harry!"

    Ron shook his head and pretended to be annoyed, but Harry could see the concern in his eyes. "There are already so many people crowded in the house. If I go back, I''ll just trouble my parents!"

    "Hey, Harry!"

    Harry knew that Ron was doing this for him. He was about to say something touching, but Colin, the second-year student, suddenly came over with a camera, eagerly walking with Ginny, who was blushing slightly.

    "Can I take a Christmas photo of you? My little brother Dennis will be of age to attend Hogwarts next year, but he''s not sure if he''ll be epted. I want to give him your photo, maybe it will give him some luck and confidence!"

    "Oh, well, if you insist¨C"

    Harry didn''t understand why Colin thought his photo could bring good luck to people, but he couldn''t find a reason to refuse.

    Harry let Colin drag him to the Christmas tree in themon room, which was decorated with mistletoe, holly, and many flying lights. The tree sparkled and shimmered, creating a festive and magical atmosphere. He let Colin fiddle with his camera for a long time, adjusting the angle and the focus, before finally taking a photo that satisfied Colin.

    "Can I have one, too, Colin?"

    Ginny''s plea came softly from a few steps away. Ron chuckled mysteriously, making Harry''s ears turn red.

    "Where''s Hermione? I didn''t see her. Did she go to the library again?"

    To avoid Ron bringing up Ginny''s admiration for him, Harry quickly changed the subject.

    "She''s trying to convince Neville to ovee his fear of his grandmother and go home for Christmas."

    Ron shrugged and pointed in the direction of the bustlingmon room, where Hermione was talking earnestly to Neville, who looked nervous and scared.

    "She always likes to take on these impossible tasks. She thinks she can change everyone''s mind with logic and reason."

    Harry smiled, and the livelymon room in front of him diluted the gloom in his heart. He tried to forget about the dark and dangerous things that lurked outside the castle walls, and focus on the joy and warmth of his friends.

    "Speaking of which¨C"

    Seeing that Harry''s mood was finally lifted, Ron also breathed a sigh of relief and casually asked, "Did you figure out about Professor Lupin''s reaction yesterday?"

    "Not really," Harry sighed, feeling the gloom return. "I don''t understand why he cares so much about the passage under the Whomping Willow, but he''s my dad''s friend. I think he''s just like Professor Watson, who doesn''t want me to use those passages to leave Hogwarts again. Maybe he''s worried about my safety, or something."

    The portrait of the Fat Lady frequently opened to allow young wizards to enter and exit, but this time, the person who walked in quickly quieted down the noisymon room. Everyone turned to look at the visitor, who wore a serious and solemn expression.

    Bryan looked kindly at the young wizards who showed surprise and curiosity on their faces, and then found Neville in the corner. He walked towards him with a gentle smile, and said

    "It''s good news, Mr. Longbottom¨C"

    Without any pretense or hesitation, Bryan took out the wand from his pocket and handed it to Neville.

    "Your wand has been found, Mr. Longbottom. You don''t have to worry about your grandmother kicking you out of the house anymore."

    "Where did you find it, Professor!"

    Neville''s mournful face suddenly rxed, and he was so excited that he didn''t know how to express his gratitude. He clutched his wand tightly, as if afraid that it would disappear again. Hermione asked this question on his behalf, curious and concerned.

    "I saw it identally when I passed by the yardst night. It was lying under a bush, covered with snow. By the way¨C"

    Bryan smiled and, after thinking for a moment, he lowered his voice and said to Hermione, who was standing next to Neville.

    "Last night, um, I found Crookshanks in Hogsmeade. He was wandering around the streets, looking for food. Considering the recent cold weather, I brought him back directly. If you''re willing, you cane to my office and take him back to the dormitory."

    ncing at Harry and Ron, who were peering over, Hermione''s still young face showed a touch of sadness. She had missed her ginger cat terribly, but she had also felt guilty for leaving him with Hagrid, who had enough trouble with his own pets.

    "It seems that Crookshanks doesn''t like staying with Hagrid. Professor, can you help take care of Crookshanks for a while?" Hermione quickly added, "I will visit him frequently!"

    "No problem, Hermione," Bryan nodded, understanding her dilemma.

    "Crookshanks found a ymate for himself in the wild. It''s a ck cat. he''s very friendly and smart. I brought both of them back, so you don''t have to worry about him feeling lonely."

    "You''re such a good person, Professor!"

    Hermione was so grateful that she was about to cry, and Neville, who was next to her, nodded frantically.

    This made Bryan feel embarrassed. Fortunately, at this time, Harry and Ron also rushed over, as if they had something to say.

    "Let''s talk outside, Harry."

    Bryan knew what Harry wanted to ask, but this topic was obviously not suitable for public discussion. He didn''t want to attract any unwanted attention or cause any panic. After giving an order, he turned and walked out of themon room, and Harry and the others followed without hesitation.

    Walking through the corridor, Bryan stopped at the corner of the stairs. He looked around to make sure no one was listening, and then faced Harry and his friends.

    "Did you find anything, Professor?"

    Harry''s eyes were burning, and he asked the expected question without surprise. He was eager to know if Bryan had any clues or leads about the secret passage under the Whomping Willow. After receiving the answer, he could already foresee the obvious disappointment on his face.

    "Still thinking about avenging your parents by killing Sirius ck?"

    Bryan asked, his voice calm and stern.

    "Harry wouldn''t think like that, right?"

    Afraid that Harry would be stubborn again, Hermione hurriedly said.

    "I don''t think like that, Professor," Harry said frankly, looking Bryan in the eye. "I just hope you can send that criminal back to where he belongs as soon as possible. He deserves to rot in Azkaban for what he did."

    <em>''This is really a confusing situation.''</em>

    Looking at Harry, who was trying to hide his hatred, Bryan shook his head in his heart.

    "Don''t worry, Harry. I will find a way to make the real culprit pay as soon as possible."

    "The real culprit?"

    After Bryan left, Hermione immediately frowned her eyebrows trembling in confusion. She sensed that there was something more to Bryan''s words, "What did Professor Watson mean?"

    "What''s so hard to understand about this¨C"

    Ron crossed his arms and confidently said, as if he knew everything. "Wizards in the wizarding world know that it was You-Know-Who who killed Harry''s parents, but few people know that it was ck who caused their sacrifice. He betrayed them to You-Know-Who. So, Professor Watson said he wants to make the ''real culprit'' pay. By the way, I wonder if Professor Watson will stay at the school for the holidays. Maybe I should write to my mom and ask her to knit him a sweater too. I bet my mom won''t refuse. She''s very grateful to him for saving Ginnyst year."

    "I don''t think so,"

    Harry, who was also puzzled by Professor Watson''s answer, blurted out.

    "Normally, he goes back to the orphanage every year to spend Christmas with the kids¨C"

    "Where did you hear that, Harry?"

    Hermione suddenly stretched her head over, staring at Harry suspiciously. This made Harry realize that he seemed to have said something he shouldn''t have. His heart skipped a beat, and he pretended to be casual.

    "Oh, you know, over the summer, I spent a month alone with Professor Watson. He told me some things about his past."

    "Oh, you kept it a secret from us, mate!"

    Ron became interested and curious, and grabbed Harry''s cor, forcing him to answer.

    "Tell us, what do you know about Professor Watson?" Ron demanded, his voice eager and impatient.

    "If you want me to die in the hands of Professor Watson instead of dying in the hands of Sirius ck-" Harry said with ''tears streaming down his face''. He was exaggerating, of course "-then go ahead and force me!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0239 Thoughts

    0239 Thoughts

    On the third floor of the castle, in the Student Safety Office, a cozy and quiet room with a firece and a couch, two cats were resting. One was a ginger tabby with a squashed face and a fluffy tail, named Crookshanks. The other was a ck cat with amber eyes and a silver cor, named Tom.

    But, Tom was not an ordinary cat.

    Since Bryan, left the office, Tom and Crookshanks had been lying on the couch, bored and dozing off. Tom silently thought about the encounter with Remus and Harry, who had nowhere to go for Christmas and had to stay at Hogwarts. He felt a pang of guilt and sadness for his old friend and harry, who had suffered so much because of him. Additionally, the words Watson, said to him kept circling in his mind.

    To be honest, Sirius had never thought of himself as a hero.

    Yes, he felt regret, deep and bitter regret for trusting Peter Pettigrew, the traitor who sold out his best friends to the Dark Lord. And in the twelve years in Azkaban, he constantly regretted his past mistakes, while enduring the torment of the soul-sucking Dementors.

    But he never thought of himself as a coward!

    After James and Lily Potter''s tragic death, in order to make up for his mistakes, he immediately went to seek revenge on Peter. Of course, that cowardly rat fooled him by faking his own death and framing him for the murder of twelve Muggles. And then, because of people''s usation and prejudice, he was thrown into Azkaban by the Ministry of Magic, without a fair trial or a chance to exin.

    He bravely endured it, never thinking of defending himself, because even though he did not betray Lily and James, he still had an undeniable responsibility. He was the one who suggested to switch to Peter, thinking that rat would be less suspicious. He was the one who failed to protect his friends and their son.

    But in Watson''s eyes, his choice was a cowardly escape, even worse than Snape, that slimy git.

    Sirius didn''t care about Snape''s allegiance to Dumbledore. He believed that Snape was only afraid of being targeted by the Ministry of Magic after Voldemort''s downfall, so he sought Dumbledore''s protection. The idea of lifelong love was even more ridiculous, especially since Snape had called Lily a "mudblood".

    But he couldn''t deny that after seeing Remus up close and hearing about Harry''s situation, he began to doubt himself.

    Sirius knew very well that for Remus, the greatest pain was not the poverty he lived in, or the discrimination he faced as a werewolf, but the fact that Sirius had "betrayed" James and Lily, and "killed" Peter. Because for Remus, it meant that their cherished friendship was all a lie, and all those happy memories were false. He had lost everything he cared about, and Sirius was the one who took it away from him.

    And as for Harry¡­ Sirius didn''t want to admit it, but he couldn''t argue against it either. Compared to taking care of James''s orphaned son, who looked so much like him, he would rather die.

    Death was simple, but it took greater courage to bear the pain and move forward.

    In this regard, Watson''s evaluation of him was not just a simple mockery.

    Compared to his previous form as arge ck dog, Crookshanks obviously preferred the cat version of Sirius. Ity next to Tom, asionally using its paws to y with Tom''s drooping ears, thoroughly enjoying itself.

    "Do you think I''m a coward too?" Tom meowed, hoping Crookshanks would give it an answer. But Crookshanks only blinked at himzily, and then yawned, showing its sharp teeth.

    Thinking about these questions, Tom became increasingly restless. Moreover, the fire in the firece was burning fiercely, making the room very hot. Tom stretched its body and jumped off the couch, agilelynding on the windowsill on the other side, hoping to open the window for some fresh air. He longed to see the outside world, the blue sky, the green grass, the snow-covered mountains.

    But as soon as its cat paw touched the handle, a ck shadow shed behind the transparent ss window pane. Before Tom could react, a gentle but irresistible force pushed it out, causing it to tumble a few times on the ground before finally stopping.

    <em>''That guy!''</em>

    Tom angrily meowed.

    To prevent him from running around, Bryan had used magic to seal the entire office.

    At that moment, the red mes in the firece briefly turned green, and the outline of a head tried to appear, but before Tom could see clearly, the shing ck shadow blocked it back.

    <em>''He even blocked the Floowork in the school,''</em> Tom thought with frustration, <em>''Isn''t he a bit too cautious?''</em>

    Compared to other professors, Bryan''s desk was rtively simple. There was no clutter, no ornaments, Just a in pen holder with an extremely simple feather pen, a blue ink bottle and a photo of him and Grandma Ferrena on the right side.

    Apart from these, there was only a stack of parchment documents on the table. They were reports from the Ministry of Magic, letters from Dumbledore, and notes from some books. After jumping onto the table and taking a nce, Sirius lost interest.

    Boring¡ª

    That was Tom''s evaluation of the office. It crouched on the desk, scanning the room with its keen eyes. It had already explored every corner of the office, and found nothing interesting. It turned its head, and its gaze naturally fell on the ck curtain that draped on the floor of the room.

    <em>''What is that thing? It looks mysterious?''</em>

    The ck curtain was the only thing that Tom had not touched. It was thick and heavy, covering somethingrge and bulky. It seemed to be hiding a secret behind it¡ªTom easily made this guess.

    <em>''Should I open it and take a look?''</em>

    That was the subsequent question that popped into Tom''s mind. If it were back at Hogwarts, this hesitation would never have urred to Tom. He was always curious and adventurous, and never afraid of getting into trouble. But the situation was different now, and for the sake of his revenge n, he had to avoid provoking Bryan Watson as much as possible.

    <em>''Time really changes a lot of things''</em>¡ª Sirius/Tom thought sadly.

    It resisted its desire and prepared to return to the couch to pass the time by sleeping. But as it turned its head, it happened to see Crookshanks also curiously looking in this direction.

    Hmm¡ª

    A mischievous glint shed in Tom''s gray eyes, and its long whiskers perked up.

    After bidding farewell to Harry and Hermione, Bryan didn''t waste any time and quickly walked down the Gryffindor Tower to his office.

    He walked briskly through the corridors, greeting the students and the portraits along the way.

    Approaching ss time, many young wizards hurriedly walked back and forth, turning the snow on the courtyard into solid ice. They were eager to get to their sses, or to the Great Hall for lunch, or to the library for study.

    A cold gust of wind blew through, causing the long icicles hanging from the eaves to crash down, but Bryan quickly flicked his wand and sent a red light to disperse the sparkling ice into a flurry of powder before leaving.

    "That was really cool!" Cedric Diggory, who had just been saved from the falling ice, said with admiration to hispanion.

    "I really hope Professor Watson continues to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts!" hispanion replied.

    "Oh,e on!" the nearby Hufflepuff wizard said grumpily. "I don''t want to spend most of the school year in the hospital!"

    "What are you up to?"

    Entering the hall from the back door, in the Great hall, Bryan unexpectedly ran into Professor Snape, who had just walked up from the basement, and smiled as soon as he saw him, but before he could greet him, Snape, who had just walked up from the basement, stopped in front of the Great Hall. With a red mark under his nose, he gritted his teeth and said, "I was about to send the potion for that werewolf through the Floo Network to you, but I found that you had blocked the firece?"

    Bryan couldn''t help but smirk at Snape''s disheveled appearance.

    "I just went to the Gryffindormon room to give Mr. Longbottom his wand¡ª" Bryan said casually.

    "Pomona said you woke up early just to find a wand for the empty-headed Longbottom?" Snape interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

    "If you really have nothing to do, Bryan, I think you might as well take over the job of making potions for that werewolf."

    "Unless Dumbledore is willing to pay me overtime, I won''t take this hard job." Bryan said with a smile. "I identally found out about a secret passage under the Whomping Willowst night, so I went to check it out."

    Snape paused for a moment, his thin lips pursed tightly, and his face turned pale.

    "The secret passage under the Whomping Willow¡ª"

    Snape''s breathing became heavy, and he stared at Bryan with a suspicious and fearful look. "You- that werewolf told you? What else did he say?"

    "So, you know about it too?" Bryan raised an eyebrow. "That means you also know that there was a secret passage?"

    Snape''s eyes turned dark, and he didn''t want to talk anymore. He looked away from Bryan''s probing gaze.

    Seeing his reaction, Bryan didn''t want to push it further. He just wanted to find an opportunity to ask ck about the story behind this secret passage.

    "There''s something¡ª"

    As he passed Remus''s office, Bryan suddenly asked casually, "Last week, when I was negotiating with Cornelius Fudge about the Dementors, I heard some things about Peter Pettigrew from Professor McGonagall. What do you think of this person?"

    <em>''Peter Pettigrew?''</em> Upon hearing this question, Snape immediately saw a timid and cowardly figure in his mind. Always following behind those three arrogant and reckless people, agreeing with their opinions without expressing his own, and overall, having no presence at all.

    During his time at Hogwarts, when he was at odds with Potter and his gang, Snape didn''t pay much attention to Peter Pettigrew. In his eyes, the small guy was just ackey to Potter and ck, not worth much attention. But he never expected that this insignificant person would make such a surprising move and confront ck on that fateful day.

    "He''s decent enough¡ª" Snape paused, and a hint of suspicion appeared in his eyes. "At least among that group of idiots, he''s somewhat courageous."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>Suggestions and Bad-News</strong>

    <em>Hi everyone,</em>

    <em>Author here.</em>

    <em>I have some questions for you and I would appreciate your honest feedback: </em>

    <em>- Do you think the pacing of the story is too slow? Should I speed it up or keep it as it is?</em>

    <em>- What do you think I should add or change in the next chapters? Do you have any suggestions or requests like; Sirius''s cat version name?</em>

    <em>Please let me know what you think in thements. I look forward to hearing from you. </em>

    <em>Also, I have some bad news. I got a back sprain. It hurts like hell and I won''t be able to update the story after tomorrow for the next two days.  I apologize for the inconvenience and I hope you understand. </em>

    <em>Thank you for your patience and support. I''ll be back as soon as possible with more updates. </em>

    <em>I promise that I will implement your suggestions in the story after the updates are resumed.</em>

 0240 The Marauderâ€™s Map

    0240 The Marauder¡¯s Map

    Bryan had a clear understanding of the deep-rooted grudges between Snape, Harry''s father, and their group of friends when they were young. So, for Snape to say that Peter was "decent", it was already a high praiseing from his mouth. This made Bryan feel a sense of unease, as this kind of person who was skilled at deceiving others and hiding his true intentions was very difficult to deal with.

    With a click, Bryan pushed open the door to the office, and a warm breeze greeted him, causing a suffocating feeling.

    The ck curtains were pulled back - Bryan was not surprised by this.

    The cat, who had been staring intently at the screen, flicked its tail and arched its body, its ck fur standing on end as it bared its teeth at Severus Snape who had walked in.

    Snape also stopped in his tracks, standing at the doorway, his indifferent gaze shooting down from his crooked nose that had been hit before, staring at the ck cat that seemed eager to scratch him.

    When Bryan finished dealing with the overly vigorous mes in the firece and turned around, he found the two, the man and the cat, still locked in a staring contest. He could feel the tension and hostility in the air, He casually smiled and said,

    "Do you like my new pet, Professor?"

    "Where did you get this beast?" Snape asked in a disdainful tone, not taking his eyes off the cat.

    "A homeless stray cat," Bryan replied, lying smoothly, "I found it identally in the wild. I was afraid it would freeze to death in the icy wilderness, so I brought it back."

    "No wonder¨C" Snape suppressed the ufortable feeling in his heart, as he sensed something familiar about the cat. He shifted his gaze away and said bluntly, "This beast looks very uncivilized. Honestly, Bryan, sometimes I think your sympathy is too excessive. Just like how you treated Longbottom, you didn''t need to lend him a wand and help him find one. Some people will never learn unless they face some serious consequences."

    "Ipletely agree with your point¨C" Bryan warned Tom with his gaze, who had already extended its sharp ws and seemed ready to pounce on Snape''s back, and changed the subject, "By the way, how is Draco doing? I haven''t seen him much in the castle and on the surveincetely."

    "As usual," Snape sighed slightly when Draco Malfoy was mentioned.

    "I learned from Flint that he has been absent from team practices recently. During most of his free time, he stays in the dormitory with Crabbe and Goyle, except for meals. In addition, he seems to visit the Owlery every day. I guess he wants to ask Lucius how to regain everyone''s favor."

    Snape nodded, but did not say anything more.

    After handing the Wolfsbane Potion that Lupin needed to Bryan, Snape didn''t stay long and left. Before leaving, he also told Bryan that Dumbledore would probably be back for Christmas.

    "How did he dare to say that I am an uncivilized beast, then what is he? A ve who only knows how to grovel in front of Voldemort?!" Sirius eximed angrily, as soon as the office door closed quietly. He roared at Bryan across the coffee table,

    "Lend me a wand, Watson, I have to let this snot know, even if I was locked up in Azkaban for twelve years, I still have the ability to do the same as James did back then, and pull down his pants in public!"

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    Bryan''s eyes shed with lightning-like sparks, as if a real thunder shook the entire office. The books on the shelves rattled, and the papers on the desk flew into the air. In that instant, Sirius seemed to see a towering python rising up, looking down on him with cold and menacing eyes. He felt a chill run down his spine, and he realized that he had made a mistake.

    "Oh, have you also done such ''interesting'' things?" Bryan asked sarcastically, his voice dripping with contempt.

    "If you knew Snape''s deeds back then -" Sirius tried to defend himself. He was never one to ept being bullied. Bryan''s intimidation instead aroused his pride and temper, temporarily making him forget the fact that he was under someone''s control. He stood up against the immense pressure emanating from Bryan, his face full of defiance.

    "You will know how annoying he really is!" Sirius snapped back, his voice full of resentment and bitterness.

    <strong>Meow¨C</strong>

    Suddenly, a meow sounded in the quiet office, breaking the tense silence. Bryan lowered his head and saw that Crookshanks, who had been sleeping soundly on his thigh, had awakened. It pressed one paw against Bryan''s right hand, its amber eyes filled with gloom. It seemed to sense the hostility in the air, and it wanted tofort Bryan.

    <strong>Hoo.</strong>

    Bryan supported his forehead with his left hand, and his upright upper body slumped back onto the sofa.

    To be honest, among all the Slytherin wizards, Bryan was a wizard with a "broad-minded" view. He did not have the sense of superiority that most Slytherins were criticized for, and he treated wizards from the other three houses equally. He did not judge them by their blood status or family background. Even for someone as dull as Neville Longbottom, he could see the shining points in him.

    But Sirius ck - this guy reminded Bryan of Henry, who had destroyed his grandma''s photo and memorials in the forbidden forest.

    Bryan was starting to get a headache. If he let this guy stay in his office until they caught Peter, he would eventually annoy or anger him to death. He felt like he was doing a thankless and dangerous job, and he did not know how long he could endure it.

    Looking at Bryan, who was still rubbing his temples, Sirius also showed a certain amount of surprise. He thought he would definitely be humiliated, but he didn''t expect Brian to fall silent and not say anything more.

    Suddenly, Sirius thought of the conversation between Watson and McGonagall earlier. He had overheard them talking, and he had learned that he was an orphan.

    Sirius was familiar with the Slytherin style of "despising others". He knew that they valued pure-blood and power, and that they despised anyone who did not fit their standards. A wizard like Bryan, with his background, probably wouldn''t have a good situation in Slytherin. So, did Snape help him?

    "Well, I can apologize¨C" Sirius said gloomily.

    "Maybe I shouldn''t have been so sarcastic about Severus in front of you." He added, trying to sound sincere.

    Hmph-- Bryan made an indistinct hum, toozy to pay attention to him. He did not ept his apology, nor did he reject it. He just got up and walked to the surveince wall, contemting the flickering screens.

    Through the descriptions of Sirius and Professor Snape, Bryan had roughly figured out what kind of person Peter was. To be honest, unless that rat exposed himself, it wouldn''t be easy to catch him. He could transform into a small and inconspicuous animal-rat, and he could blend in with the surroundings.

    "Did you create this thing?" Sirius asked curiously, after a while. He couldn''t hold back anymore. After all, Bryan was the only wizard he couldmunicate with in the castle now, and this surveince video was indeed interesting. He had never seen anything like it before, and he wanted to know more about it.

    "A genius idea, Brian. Your attainments in alchemy and transfiguration are astonishing, to be honest. I''m really d I didn''t try to break into the castle again after Halloween. Otherwise, I definitely wouldn''t be able to avoid this! " Sirius praised sincerely, as he came up behind Bryan with great interest. He stared at Harry and the others running all the way, watching them sh into the Charms ss.

    "When James, Remus, Pet-... We were students in Hogwarts, we also made something simr to this. It was a map that recorded every secret passage we discovered in the castle. Oh, it had a special ability too. No wizard appearing on the Hogwarts ground could escape its tracking. Their names would appear on the map in real-time and their locations would be marked. We called it the Marauder''s Map. Oh, what''s wrong, Bryan?" Sirius said nostalgically, as he remembered the good old days. He had a fond smile on his face, and he did not notice the change in Bryan''s expression.

    At some point, Bryan''s gaze had turned towards him, wearing a pensive expression.

    "Where is this map you''re talking about?"

    Sirius wasn''t a fool. He immediately realized what Bryan wanted to do.

    "You want to use the map to find Peter? but, It''s location is not easy to determine, Bryan. Before we graduated, Filch confiscated the map. We did n to steal it back, but the deteriorating situation outside the school suddenly caught our attention. That was more than a decade ago. If it weren''t for seeing this thing, I almost forgot about its existence. I think Filch might have destroyed it!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>Author: From tomorrow new updates will resume.</strong>

 0241 Search

    0241 Search

    "Okay, wait for me here¡ª"

    When Sirius finished describing how the map was confiscated and what it looked like, Bryan dropped these words and immediately walked to the firece, grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the shelf, and threw it into the firece. With a loud bang, the mes in the firece turned emerald green. Bryan stepped into the firece and disappeared from Sirius''s sight.

    He reappeared in a different room, one that he had not ever visited. The room was dim and dirty, with no windows, only a lonely oilmp hanging from the low ceiling. Themp cast a faint yellow light over the dusty furniture and the cobwebbed corners.

    There was a faint smell of fried fish in the air, and many wooden filing cabs were lined up along the walls. Judging from thebels, these cabs contained detailed information about every student punished by Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts. Bryan knew that Filch kept meticulous records of every misdeed and mischief that happened in the school, and he often threatened to show them to the headmaster or the Ministry of Magic.

    On the wall behind the desk hung a set of shiny hinges and handcuffs. These things had been hanging there since Bryan attended school here. Filch had hoped that they would be useful, but unfortunately, they remained mere decorations over the years. The Ministry of Magic had banned the use of such devices on students, much to Filch''s dismay.

    <strong>ng!</strong>

    "Oh, damn it, what the¨C"

    A phantom suddenly shed out of the narrow firece, and misjudging the messiness of the room, Bryan kicked Mrs. Norris''s food tray. The tray ttered to the floor, spilling the cat food and water all over the rug.

    While scolding the young wizards, Filch instinctively cursed, but when he saw who the visitor was, his bulging goldfish eyes immediately widened, and his flushed and sagging cheeks turned pale.

    "I didn''t know it was you, Director Watson!"

    Filch red fiercely at the casually standing Weasley brothers behind the table, but then, realizing who the visitor was, he instinctively straightened up, and with a startled tone, said, "I was interrogating these two troublemakers and didn''t notice it was you, sir!"

    "It''s alright, Argus, I came here uninvited and disturbed your work."

    Bryan waved his hand and smiled. He was used to Filch''s grumpy attitude and his constantints about the students. Then, he turned his gaze to the slightly uneasy Fred and George and asked, "What''s the matter, you two? Have you gotten yourselves into trouble again?"

    "Oh, it''s not us who caused trouble, Professor!"

    Fred closed his eyes and made a grimace, as if Professor Watson''s words had deeply hurt him. He put his hand over his heart and said, "Exin, George."

    "Well, Professor, you know we''ll be taking our O.W.L. exams next year, and our ssmates are all anxious. We can''t just sit idle¨C"

    "So?"

    Bryan gestured to Filch, indicating that he didn''t need to rush, and then crossed his arms, listening with interest to the Weasley twins'' rambling.

    "We''ve made up our minds to study hard and make up for the ignorance in our wasted youth," Fred innocently said, blinking his eyes. He looked at Bryan with a sincere expression, as if he was expecting praise. "We found a quiet ssroom and were fully focused on magical research. But then, this Mr. Filch barged in with his cat and caused trouble for us for no reason¨C"

    "Nonsense!"

    Filch''s face twitched uncontrobly, and he angrily sprayed spittle at Bryan''s face. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and said, "Mr. Watson, don''t listen to these two little brats'' nonsense. They''re lying through their teeth!"

    Before Bryan could speak, Filch, with a face full of anger, opened his hand, revealing a long, flesh-colored rope. He held it up for Bryan to see and said, "Look, Director Watson, this is what I snatched from their hands. It can shrink and stretch, and I haven''t figured out what other things it can do yet, but at least, I bet it has nothing to do with studying. It must be one of those stupid prank gadgets!"

    "You simply don''t understand," Fred retorted, "so you''re using us."

    Bryan raised his eyebrows and said, "Let me see, Filch."

    He beckoned with his finger, and the flesh-colored rope flew into his hand. He picked up a small section with his thumb and index finger and ced it in front of him. In his purple eyes, there were constantly fleeting shes of lights.

    Fred gave George a look: What should we do, brother? We can''t expect Professor Watson to be as foolish as Filch.

    George: Just rx, brother. Maybe he''s having a moment of confusion.

    Time passed by, and after about a minute, Bryan finished his observation and looked at the resolute Weasley twins. He threw the object back to them and looked at them with admiration.

    "This rope is intriguing. But, Professor Flitwick didn''t teach you the Imperturbable spell?"

    Fred and George exchanged a nce and saw the excitement in each other''s eyes.

    "Can you give us some guidance, Professor Watson!"

    Bryan didn''t hesitate to impart knowledge, even though he was a part-time substitute teacher. He asked Filch, who was still confused, for a quill and quickly wrote down the names of several books on a form for recording ''crimes.'' Then, he handed the paper to the excited twins. The books had titles like ''Advanced Charms and Enchantments'', ''Magical Theory and Application'', and ''The Art of Invention: A Guide for Creative Wizards''.

    "Your talents are undeniable, but relying solely on talent is not enough to support your wild imaginations. Knowledge is important."

    "You''re absolutely right, Professor Watson!" Fred nodded seriously. "We''ll go raid the library!"

    Filch watched this scene with a face full of disappointment, but when he heard his superior''s words, he immediately became happy again.

    "Anyway, Argus is not wrong about you two. You have caused a lot of trouble and annoyance for him and the other staff members. Now, I have something to consult with Argus. You two cane back here sometime this week and receive your punishment."

    Fred and George walked up to the room dejectedly and closed the door with a heavy heart.

    "What can I do for you, Mr. Watson!"

    Filch said happily after getting what he wanted.

    "Well, Argus¨C"

    Bryan didn''t dare to say that he was a rule-abiding young wizard when he was a student, but he was definitely modest and cautious. Apart from being locked up in Professor Snape''s office for minor offenses, Filch had never caught him red-handed. So, he had only heard about this notorious office from his fellow housemates, and had never experienced it personally.

    He looked around, and his eyes fell on the cabs full ofbels. Thebels had names, dates, and descriptions of the confiscated items. Some of them were familiar to Bryan, Others were unfamiliar, such as ''<em>Luna Lovegood, 1992, a ne of butterbeer corks that can ward off Nargles</em>''.

    "I came here to look for something, it''s a nk parchment that looks very old, it''s about this big when spread out¨C"

    Bryan gestured with his hand to show the size.

    "This thing was probably confiscated by you from a few students about ten years ago, it''s been a long time, I don''t know if you have any memory of it."

    What followed was a frenzy of searching. Filch opened almost every drawer in the room that could hold something. He pulled out all kinds of objects, some of them harmless, some of them dangerous, some of them bizarre. He found things like fireworks, dungbombs, quills, books, magazines, cloaks, hats, wands, brooms, and even a sword. Some of the things were even confiscated by Filch''s highly respected predecessor, Apollyon Pringle, and had been lying in the unknown corners, waiting to rot into dust.

    Throughout the process, Bryan didn''t rush Filch at all, but Filch clearly felt immense pressure. He muttered crazily while searching,

    "Damn it, damn it, could it be that there was a thief here!"

    He couldn''t believe that he couldn''t find the thing that Watson was looking for.

    After an hour, Filch finally gave up searching. He straightened his sore old waist and said with a mournful face to Bryan, "Please give me some more time. I swear I will find the thing you''re looking for."

    This situation didn''t surprise Bryan. After more than a decade, a seemingly ordinary piece of parchment might have been used as a draft and burned in the firece.

    "Do your best, Argus. If you can''t find it, it''s alright."

    He said this with a gentle and understanding tone, trying to make Filch feel better.

    But this magnanimity made Filch even more uneasy. After all, Director Watson rarely gave him orders. It was a rare opportunity to make amends, and he had messed it up.

    "I''ll go back to my quarters and search again, Director Watson. I will report to you whether I can find it or not!"

    Before Bryan walked into the firece, Filch anxiously called out.

    "Then, I''ll leave it to you, Argus¨C"

    Bryan waved his hand without turning back, and his figure turned into a phantom and disappeared into the emerald mes.

    Behind a tapestry beside the grand staircase on the ground floor of the castle, Fred and George looked at each other, both seeing the unease in each other''s eyes. They had hidden themselves there after escaping from Filch''s office, using the Extendable Ear to listen to the conversation between Professor Watson and Filch.

    "This is not good," Fred said desperately while pulling the flesh-colored rope back. He wrapped it around his wrist and stuffed it into his pocket.

    "How did Professor Watson know about that thing? Could it be what Harry said?" Fred asked, his voice trembling.

    "We''ll never figure out the answer to that," George urgently said, peeking out to observe themotion in filch''s office.

    "But we need to give Harry a warning!" George added, grabbing Fred''s arm.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    <strong>Author''s Note:</strong><em>I am feeling better today, but I still can¡¯t walk properly. It doesn¡¯t hurt now, but it will hurt if I try to bend down or stretch. I will try to post updates, but it may take me two or three more days to include your suggestions in the story. When I do, I will write about it in the author¡¯s note.</em>

 0242 Hanging by a thread

    0242 Hanging by a thread

    After a while, Bryan returned to his office and brushed off the ashes from his robe. He opened his hand to Sirius and said, "Filch said he will try to look for it again, but I don''t have much hope."

    This result was expected, so Sirius was only slightly disappointed for a moment before regaining hisposure.

    Perhaps because he had spent more time as an animal than as a human in the past few months, Sirius returned to the sofa, but instead of sitting down, he crawled on all fours like a cat or a dog. He felt morefortable and natural in this posture, as if he had forgotten how to be a man. If it weren''t for Bryan''s strange gaze, he wouldn''t have noticed anything wrong.

    "Whether it''s lost or destroyed, it doesn''t matter," Sirius muttered to ease the awkwardness. "I just hope that thing doesn''t end up in Peter''s hands. Otherwise, he will be able to track all of us."

    Bryan slowly returned to his desk. He had never seen the magical map that Sirius mentioned, so hecked a certain understanding of its wonders. However, through the description, he could roughly understand how it worked. It was a map of Hogwarts that showed the location and identity of every person in the castle, regardless of their disguise or concealment.

    Just like during the time when Voldemort was active many years ago, people were afraid to even say the name "Voldemort" because for a long time, Voldemort had ced a spell on his name. Names have power, and Voldemort used it to locate and brutally kill those wizards who dared to speak his name.

    Over time, these three words became taboo in the wizarding world. People referred to him as "You-Know-Who" or "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named" or simply "the Dark Lord". Only a few brave souls, like Dumbledore dared to utter his name.

    "Names and Magic, you probably referred to this book''s knowledge¨C" Bryan mused, stroking his chin, lost in thought.

    As far as he knew, among all the conventional concealment spells, the Polyjuice Potion and the Animagus transformation were probably the most outstanding, especially the Animagus transformation. Even with Bryan''s current eyesight, which was enhanced by his magic, it would be difficult to detect if he wasn''t on guard. But Sirius imed that the map could expose the disguises of the Polyjuice Potion and the Animagus transformation, which was truly remarkable.

    "I can''t tell you how we did it," Sirius said, surprising Bryan with his level of wizardry. Sirius''s face regained a bit of color, and he looked proud. He had a mischievous grin on his face, as if he was recalling some of the pranks he and his friends had pulled with the map. But in the face of Bryan''s subsequent questions, Sirius regretfully said,

    "In order to make this map work, the four of us spent a long time. Just designing the magical corridors rted to alchemy took us several months in the library. And when it came to the actual production stage, ''Names and Magic'' was just the basic framework of the map. Each of us used our own expertise in magic on the map, some using iplete ancient magic from the restricted section, some magic exclusive in our family library. You know, Bryan, considering our magical abilities at the time, it was beyond our capabilities to contain so much magic on a piece of ordinary parchment. Some tracking spells failed, some merged together, so¡­"

    Sirius spread his hands, feigning innocence. He shrugged, as if to say that he didn''t know what they had done, or what they had created.

    Bryan nodded. One of the wonders of magic was its unpredictability.

    "So, there''s no way to evade the tracking of the map?" Bryan asked, feeling less pleased now that he might be the one being monitored. Especially after what happened with Cliodna, he was wary of any means that could mysteriously find him.

    "It''s not like that," Sirius replied after a moment of contemtion. The long period of imprisonment had made his memory a bit fuzzy. He had forgotten some of the details of the map, and he had to rack his brain to recall them. He furrowed his brow and said, "We conducted experiments back then, and there were some specific spells for hiding names that could prevent detection. After all, the basic framework of the map is the power of names."

    "That reminds me," Bryan said, suddenly realizing something. After July, both ''Golden Viper'' and ''Bryan Watson,'' the information for these two identities were protected by his magic. Even if someone had the map now, they probably won''t be able to detect his activities in the castle. But Sirius might not be so lucky. If the map wasn''t lost, but was held by someone, it would cause him unnecessary trouble.

    A wisp of ck smoke emanated from the tip of Bryan''s wand, darkening the room. The twisting smoke spun in mid-air, quickly forming chains that seemed both real and illusory, emitting a faint glow. The chains wrapped around Sirius''s limbs and torso, binding him to the sofa. He struggled and cursed, but the chains only tightened around him.

    "Don''t worry, ck, it''s just a precaution," Bryan said in response to Sirius''s panic, and he lightly waved his wand.

    Gryffindor and Slytherin''s Charms ss ended, and students poured out of the warm and cozy ssroom into the cold corridor, where the biting wind felt like iron hammers pounding on their rosy faces. They shivered and rubbed their hands, wishing they could stay inside the ssroom. But they had to hurry to their next ss, or face the wrath of their teachers.

    Many people crowded in the corridor, hurriedly wrapping scarves around themselves. Harry nced at Malfoy and his twockeys, who were walking silently through the cold wind. They looked pale and subdued, unlike their usual arrogant and sneering selves. Harry wondered what had happened to them, but he didn''t care enough to ask. During this time, his mind was filled with thoughts of ck''s betrayal and the death of his parents. He came to his senses and realized that Malfoy and his two little followers had been strangely honest for a while. They hadn''t tried to provoke or insult him, or make fun of his scar.

    "Harry!"

    Harry frowned and stared at Malfoy''s back, then suddenly heard someone calling his name from around the corner of the stairs. He turned and saw Fred and George Weasley, the twin brothers of Ron. They were waving and smiling at him, as if they had something important to tell him.

    "Fred and George?" Ron muttered, shivering. "That''s strange. They specifically came to find you, Harry?" Ron looked suspicious, as if he expected the twins to pull a prank on him. He knew his brothers well, and he knew they were always up to something.

    "Why don''t we just go over and ask them directly!" Hermione, who had a bunch of things to do next, said impatiently. She was holding a stack of books and papers, and she looked eager to get to the library.

    Fred and George dragged Harry and his two friends to the other side of the stairs, into an empty ssroom. It was time for ss, and there were many studentsing and going. George stood at the door, guarding against anyone who might eavesdrop on their conversation. He had a serious expression on his face, which was rare for him. Fred, on the other hand, looked nervous, as if he had a secret to share.

    "I don''t remember inviting you two?" Fred raised his eyebrows at Ron and Hermione. He didn''t seem happy to see them, as if they were intruding on his private talk with Harry.

    "ck is still on the run, we don''t want you to use some crazy ideas to lure Harry out of the castle!" Hermione pursed her lips, displeased. She was worried about Harry''s safety, and she didn''t trust the Weasley twins.

    To prevent the Weasley brothers from getting into trouble, they had exchanged information about what had happened before. So, Fred knew what Hermione meant, but he didn''t have time to argue with her. He just used as few words as possible to describe what they had overheard in Filch''s office.

    "Professor Watson knows about the Marauder''s Map?" Ron looked puzzled. "But that''s not possible, right? Otherwise, he would have confiscated it that night."

    "So, we came to ask," Fred said seriously, looking at Harry. "Have you talked to anyone about the map?"

    Harry obviously didn''t make such a stupid mistake. He hadn''t mentioned it to anyone except Ron and Hermione. He shook his head, and said, "No, I haven''t. I swear." He looked confused, and said, "But how did Professor Watson know about it? And if he knew about it then why did he let me keep it?"

    Maybe Professor Watson found something rted to the map, but the chances of that happening were slim. Harry had kept the map in his backpack, and he had never left it unattended.

    "Maybe it''s Professor Lupin," After a moment of silence, Harry, who was thinking, suddenly raised his head and said to Ron and Hermione,

    "Remember that strange question he asked me that night? He asked if I had any help in finding the passage under the Whomping Willow?"

    Harry''s guess was reasonable, but it raised a new question: how did Professor Lupin find out about the map''s existence?

    "Is the map on you, Harry?" Hermione''s question reminded Harry. He opened his backpack and hurriedly spread the parchment on the table, then tapped it lightly with his wand. He said, "I''ll show you. Maybe we can find some clues."

    In an instant, fine ink lines spread like a spider''s web from the tip of the wand, connecting and intertwining, expanding to every corner of the parchment. The lines formed words and symbols, names and locations, showing a detailed map of Hogwarts and its surroundings. The map was alive, and it showed the movements and identities of every person in the castle.

    Even though Ron had seen the Marauder''s Map before, he still looked at it with awe. Hermione, on the other hand, instinctively averted her gaze, but after a moment, she suppressed her thoughts about the map''s mysterious origin and turned her head back. However, she suddenly noticed that Harry''s face had turned pale, and something seemed off.

    "What''s wrong, Harry?" Hermione''s heart raced, thinking of the notebook fromst year.

    "Nothing," Harry said, pointing to the spot where Professor Watson''s office should be. He expected to see his name and location on the map, but there was nothing there, just a nk space. It seemed that Professor Watson and their suspected Professor Lupin were not in their offices.

    <em>''But the disappearing name¡­ Was it my imagination???''</em> Harry thought, feeling a chill in his spine.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0243 Twist and turns

    0243 Twist and turns

    The next three days in the castle passed by peacefully, with no unexpected incidents or disturbances. Most of the castle''s young wizards and staff were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Christmas holidays, looking forward to the festive decorations, the delicious feasts, and the presents from their families and friends.

    However, there were some people who were not having afortable time at all. For example, there was a ''Semi-Retired'' professor who had to share a room with a particrly energetic and argumentative cat, who kept jumping on his bed, scratching his furniture, and meowing loudly at all hours. Additionally, Harry had been feeling restless and anxious these past few days. The name he had glimpsed on the Marauder''s Map that afternoon was like a thorn in his heart, causing him sleepless nights and troubling dreams.

    Harry didn''t tell Ron and Hermione about this because he could predict their reaction. They would surely think that he was under too much pressure and hallucinating. But to be honest, even Harry himself found it hard to believe what he had seen.

    The appearance of Sirius ck''s name in Professor Watson''s office was truly magical and confusing. It was hard to understand what had happened.

    <em>''How did ck manage to enter the castle undetected? What was he doing in Professor Watson''s office? And why did he disappear so quickly?''</em>

    Outside the window, the moon was absent, and the dormitory was pitch ck after the lights were turned off. The only sounds were the asional hooting of owls and the rustling of leaves.

    After a while, lying in bed pretending to sleep, Harry heard the familiar and loud snoring of his dorm mates. He raised his head slightly and looked around. Then, he pulled out the Marauder''s Map from under the soft mattress and covered himselfpletely with the bedsheet.

    Ever since Fred and George had warned him that day, Harry had stopped carrying the map with him to avoid being caught during surprise inspections. Instead, he hid it in the dormitory, under a loose floorboard.

    <em>''Lumos!''</em>

    The map glowed and Harry whispered, using the light from his wand to examine it once again.

    Professor Watson''s office was still empty, with neither the fleeting name nor Professor Watson''s name present.

    This situation didn''t surprise Harry. Every night after lights out, he would take out the Marauder''s Map to check, and he had never seen Professor Watson''s name appear. It was as if he never stayed in his office, or he had some way of hiding his presence.

    <em>''What could be happening?''</em>

    After folding the map and putting it back under the bedsheet, Harry stared at the ceiling in the darkness, lost in thought.

    Furthermore, it was still a mystery how Professor Watson knew about the Marauder''s Map. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had discussed this, and the most likely possibility was that Professor Lupin had informed Professor Watson about the map''s existence. And the reason why Professor Lupin knew about it could only be one thing - he had either seen it before or he was the creator of the Marauder''s Map.

    But these were just spections, and Harry couldn''t possibly go and ask Professor Lupin to rify. That would be walking into a trap. He didn''t want to risk losing the map or exposing his secret.

    Hermione still held her original view, hoping that Harry would hand over the map. But this suggestion was strongly opposed by Ron, and even Harry himself didn''t want to do it.

    "Just think about it, Hermione," faced with Hermione''s angry protest, Harry said, trying to reason with her. "At the very least, I can use the map to monitor ck. If he has already infiltrated Hogwarts, I can get an early warning."

    Anyone could tell that this was just an excuse, but Harry didn''t want to lose this interesting map.

    "How sneaky," Harry muttered as he turned over, not knowing who he was referring to. Then, the overwhelming drowsiness washed over him, and his conscious mind gradually faded away amidst the sound of snoring.

    Dumbledore was back!

    The next morning, Harry and Ron rushed to the Great Hall, excitedly asking Hermione about the news they had heard.

    "Is it true, Hermione?" Harry asked eagerly, scanning the staff table but not seeing theforting sight of Dumbledore''s silver-haired and aged figure. He felt a pang of disappointment and worry. "Where is he? I didn''t see him!"

    "Dumbledore probably came back this morning. He looked a bit tired. Later, Professor Watson also came down. He talked to Professor Dumbledore for a while, and then they both went to the direction of thewn on the yground -"

    "Professor Watson looked exhausted too. I really hope it''s not because of taking care of Crookshanks," Hermione said, her brow furrowed with concern. She wondered if Crookshanks was giving him any trouble or demanding too much attention.

    Due to the cold weather, the snow on the ground remained thick and showed no signs of melting. The topyer exposed to the air had even frozen into solid ice, making a creaking sound with every step. The castle grounds were covered in a nket of white, sparkling under the pale winter sun.

    For Watson and Dumbledore, they both had ways to easily float on the surface of the snow, but they chose not to. Instead, they took one step at a time, steadily making their way towards the frozenke. They wanted to enjoy the scenery and the fresh air, and also to have some privacy for their conversation.

    "You look exhausted," Dumbledore said, turning his face towards Bryan under the dancing willow branches. He had noticeable dark circles under his eyes and a look of apology on his face.

    "I''m sorry for leaving you in such a mess, Bryan."

    "Just consider it part of the generous sry," Bryan shrugged, sniffing the faint familiar scent emanating from Dumbledore''s body. He recognized this smell. He raised an eyebrow and said, "I thought it was just my imagination, Headmaster Dumbledore, but did you go to the underground world beneath the Knockturn Alley?"

    "Hehe, Mr. Viper, you are quite familiar with that ce," Dumbledore said, not hiding his whereabouts.

    "Well, before I left, I told you that I was going to search for clues about some of Tom''s Horcruxes.

    Well, this journey can''t be said to be very smooth. I was dyed by Connelly, who asked me to apany him in some difficult negotiations.

    Later, I followed some clues and found the ce where Tom worked when he was young. I unearthed some secrets from there. There was a key figure, a house-elf, who was sent to Azkaban by Tom. So, I had to turn back and go to the Ministry of Magic to apply for a visit to Azkaban. When the Ministry checked the relevant information, they found that the house-elf had been released after serving his sentence a year ago.

    You know, a house-elf who hasmitted a crime will have hard time to find a new home. I guessed that he might run to the underground world to make a living, so I went to have a look."

    "Oh," Bryan''s expression suddenly became regretful. "You arrived a few steps toote, Headmaster Dumbledore."

    "Yes," Dumbledore chuckled. "I discreetly checked some memories and indeed found that the house-elf had spent some time in the underground world. However, that giant¡­ Fortunately, luck was on its side, and it managed to escape."

    It was quite a convoluted process.

    Bryan pursed his lips. "So, did you find him in the end?"

    "Not yet, but I believe it''s only a matter of time. Yes, I must make good use of my time. Considering the age of that house-elf, I worry it may not survive this winter. Of course, I haven''t forgotten my other responsibility, so I came back to take a look before embarking on a more difficult pursuit."

    "Will you be disappointed when you see that Hogwarts was the same with or without you,Dumbledore?" Bryan teased.

    "I feel genuinely relieved, Bryan," Dumbledore chuckled. He was d that Bryan and the other professors had managed to keep the school running smoothly.

    Dumbledore only stayed at Hogwarts for two days. After dealing with the backlog of paperwork, he quietly left again. Professor McGonagall was furious about this because Dumbledore had informed her that he might not be able to return until the next term. During this time, she and a few other heads of houses, along with Bryan, would be in charge of everything at the school.

    "Perhaps it''s for the best," Bryan said sympathetically to Professor McGonagall as he had to help substitute for a Defense Against the Dark Arts ss for Hufflepuff."I mean, Lucius Malfoy threatened the board to have Dumbledore removed earlier this year. It would have been a good opportunity to go along with it."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0244 Taking care

    0244 Taking care

    The gloomy weather that hadsted for almost half a month finally changed on a new day. The temperature was still freezing, but the dense clouds reluctantly retreated from the stage under the eager anticipation of countless creatures on the earth, and the sun reappeared, casting pale and feeble sunlight on the earth.

    After a whole term of training, the first-year students of Gryffindor were finally let loose.

    Under the supervision of Mrs. Hooch, they rode on the school''s old-style broomsticks, flying and chasing the snowkes that danced in the air like dandelions, cheering and jumping with joy.

    <strong>Cough, cough!</strong>

    After the exhausting transformationst night, Lupin''s face was as pale as the snow on thewn. He leaned on Bryan''s camp bed, covered with his own thick nket, and tried to raise his head to look at the young wizards outside. From their expression, they seemed to be happy.

    "This thing really depends on talent¨C"

    As Lupin gasped for breath, he muttered to himself while watching the little guys who had been practicing for half a year but still couldn''t get rid of their clumsiness.

    "I heard that when Harry first rode a broomstick, he flew better than many older kids in the team. He undoubtedly inherited James''s excellent talent¨C"

    <strong>Meow!</strong>

    A soft meow suddenly came from his knee, interrupting Lupin''s gaze. He looked over and found that, the ck cat that Bryan had picked up from the wilderness and named Tom, had a look of joy and satisfaction in its gray eyes, and was nodding slightly.

    "Do you think so too, Tom?"

    Lupin smiled gently, thinking it was just a coincidence. But to his surprise, Tom nodded again after hearing his question.

    <em>''What a strange cat¨C''</em>

    Lupin felt a faint sense of confusion in his heart. He wondered if there was something special about this cat, or if he was just imagining things.

    Last night, Lupin had transformed in his own office, and to facilitate care, Bryan had moved him to this office early this morning. When he first arrived, Bryan even asked this cat, which always gave people a strange sense of familiarity, whether it needed a new ce to stay since he would be living here for the next few days.

    At that time, Lupin thought Bryan was joking with him, after all, sometimes this young wizard liked to y some nasty jokes, but he didn''t expect Tom to hesitate for a moment and then shake his head.

    "Bryan must have seen that you are very smart, so he brought you back, right?"

    Lupin smiled slightly, slowly reaching out his hand, wanting to touch Tom''s furry head. But unexpectedly, this frightened Tom, and it swiftly jumped off the camp bed, leaping onto the opposite sofa. For at least twenty hours a day, ity there, next to the fatty Crookshanks. The two cats seemed to get along well, often curling up together or grooming each other.

    "Oh, sorry¨C"

    Lupin showed a disappointed expression, sighed, and said, "I thought you liked me."

    Tom crawled on the sofa, covering its face with its overly strong paws, afraid that Lupin would see the guilt in its eyes.

    At this moment, the bell for the end of ss rang, and it reminded Lupin. He looked at the ss of ck smoky potion on Bryan''s office desk and showed a bitter expression, "I have reason to believe that Severus may be targeting me."

    Lupin supported his body with both hands, trying to sit up straight, but he was too weak. He tried several times, but his arms had no strength.

    "This potion is several times more bitter than before."

    After struggling for a while, Lupin sighed and leaned back on the pillow. Helplessly, he took out his wand from his pocket.

    "Wingardium Leviosa-"

    Lupin muttered softly, but the ss of Wolfsbane potion on the table only shook a few times, spilling a lot of liquid, without any sign of levitation. He cursed under his breath, realizing that his magic was also affected by his condition.

    "This is really frustrating-"

    Under the influence of the full moon''s magic, the werewolf''s body rapidly produced and multiplied the wolf poison during the transformation, and he needed to drink the wolfsbane potion constantly to kill the wolf poison, Otherwise, he would be aggressive.

    Lupin didn''t dare to joke about it. Seeing that he couldn''t even perform a simple levitation spell, he put his wand back and struggled to sit up on the bed. He felt a wave of dizziness and weakness, as if his bones were made of jelly. He tried to hold on to the edge of the bed, but his fingers slipped and he lost his bnce.

    After a while¨C<strong>ng!</strong> Lupin fell off the bed andy on the floor, his body sprawled out. He groaned in pain, feeling the cold and hard surface against his skin.

    <strong><em>Meow¨C</em></strong>

    Tom, who had witnessed Lupin''s struggle, couldn''t bear it any longer. It quickly jumped to Lupin''s side and bit his sleeve with its mouth, trying to pull him up. It used all its strength, but it was futile. This action was too difficult for a cat with only paws, it couldn''t even lift Lupin''s arm.

    "Huff¨Cstay away from me, little guy¨C"

    Remus, who was already suffering from a splitting headache, gasped and said, hoping that Bryan''s cat would stay away from him.

    But Tom didn''t give up. Realizing that it couldn''t help Lupin get up, it leaped onto the office desk, hoping to pick up the cup of potion. But this was also a difficult task for a cat with only ws.

    Ridiculous andughable, two living wizards were actually stumped by a cup of potion.

    <em>''Damn it, Watson!''</em>

    Tom hated Watson so much that it showed its teeth. The transformation spell casted on him could only be lifted by human intervention, unlike Animagus, who could voluntarily change back.

    Lying on the cold floor, Lupin''s eyes were bloodshot. He could feel that there seemed to be millions of tiny insect eggs hatching inside his body, rapidly absorbing the limited magic in his body and using it to grow. This pain made his consciousness blurry and extremely irritable.

    Fortunately, the remaining Wolfsbane potion in his body was still working, helping Lupin maintain a certain level of sanity. Otherwise, he would have already started to go berserk.

    After an unknown amount of time, Lupin, who had been struggling with his hazy consciousness and bloodthirsty desires, suddenly realized that something wet was touching his lips. He instinctively sucked on it, and the cold liquid that entered his mouth gradually restored his consciousness.

    The wet and hard thing disappeared, but soon, it reappeared at his lips again. Having tasted that it was the Wolfsbane potion, Lupin didn''t hesitate and sucked on it again.

    This went on for several times, and the haze in his vision faded away, and Lupin finally saw who was feeding him the potion.

    It was the cat named Tom¨Cit took a feather pen from the pen holder on Bryan''s desk and used the pen barrel to suck up the potion and feed it to him.

    "Cough, cough-- you''re so smart, little guy!"

    Lupin coughed violently after being choked by the potion, incredulously saying, "I''ve never seen a cat with such a clever head like you, Tom¨C"

    <strong>Crack--</strong> After a crisp metal collision sound, Bryan, who had hurriedly returned from the auditorium with some packed food, pushed open the door and entered. He saw the scene in front of him and immediately understood everything that had happened in the room.

    "Oh, stop making a fuss¨C"

    Bryan quickly walked in, put Lupin back on the bed, and fed him the rest of the potion, while angrily scolding Tom, who was meowing incessantly on the floor like a horny female cat, "This is not my fault¨C"

    "I must have looked very miserable just now¨C"

    After finally catching his breath, Lupin smiled wryly and said to Bryan.

    "Everyone has their moments of misery and embarrassment."

    Bryan chewed on the grilled eel, nonchntly saying.

    The situation of a werewolf cannot be described with words like misery and embarrassment. Lupin pursed his lips and suddenly reached out to touch Tom''s head again. This time, Tom only hesitated and backed away half a step, but didn''t avoid it, which made Lupin feel extremely relieved.

    "Thanks to you today, little guy, otherwise I might have caused trouble."

    Lupin stared into Tom''s gray eyes and said, but he noticed that Tom seemed to always avoid his gaze.

    "Do you want to adopt it, Remus?"

    Bryan, who was watching the emotional exchange between the wolf and the cat, suddenly said with interest.

    Tom''s body tensed up, its eyes fixed on the ground, not looking at Lupin, nor ring angrily at Bryan.

    "If you''re willing to bear the pain of parting, Bryan--"

    Lupin, who was hesitating how to make the request, immediately smiled.

    "I do hope to be friends with this clever little guy."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0245 Christmas

    0245 Christmas

    On Christmas morning, Harry was awakened by a bright light that pierced through the curtains and reflected from the snow outside into the dormitory. He felt a cold draft on his face and shivered. He struggled to sit up, propping himself up with difficulty on his thin pillow. After putting on his sses, he rubbed his eyes and blinked several times to adjust to the dimly lit room.

    The rest of his roommates had already left the school in the afternoon of the previous day, so now, in the dormitory, there was only Ron, who was eagerly unpacking a small pile of packages stacked at the end of his bed. Harry could hear the rustling of paper and the clinking of objects as Ron tore open the wrapping and examined his gifts.

    "Don''t just stand there, Harry," Ron said, turning his head when he heard Harry''s movement. He beckoned Harry eagerly with a grin. "This is our only chance of the year. Come and see what we''ve got this year!"

    "I''ming," Harry muttered. He slowly lifted the covers and loosely buttoned up his pajama cor. He walked over in his slippers, dragging his feet on the wooden floor.

    Most of these gift packages were left by their ssmates in Gryffindor. Every year, in December, Harry and Ron would also find ways to prepare Christmas gifts for their friends in the house. Most of the gifts were not too valuable, such as stationery from Flourish and Blotts, candies from Honeydukes, prank products from Zonko''s Joke Shop, or small items from Dervish and Banges. These were the mainstream choices for students to exchange Christmas gifts.

    This year was no exception. Harry opened several packages, and most of the items were the same. Some of the gifts were even very familiar to Harry because he had asked the Weasley brothers to purchase them from Hogsmeade.

    Of course, as usual, Mrs. Weasley''s gift was not absent.

    A crimson sweater with the Gryffindor lion pattern knitted on the chest, as well as a dozen homemade round fruit pies, some Christmas pastries, and a box of nut brittle. Harry could smell the sweet aroma of the baked goods and felt his mouth water.

    "Mom gave me another sweater. And it''s dark red again," Ron grumbled as he alsoined about the almost identical sweater he was holding. He threw the sweater on the bed and continued to explore Mrs. Weasley''s package. Within seconds, Ron picked up another sweater, this time in emerald green, with a puzzled expression on his face. "A sale on yarn? Why did Mom send me two this year?"

    Harry''s first-year sweater was green, so when he heard Ron''s muttering, he looked up and blinked. Harry smiled. "I guess Mrs. Weasley probably sent Percy''s gift to you, Ron. We can''t fit into this size."

    "Maybe she just wanted to lighten the load for Errol. Well, at least Errol will be a little happier to see one less package," Ron said. He unfolded the sweater he picked up, facing it towards himself. When he saw the weird pattern on the chest, Ron suddenly widened his eyes in surprise. "A snake! Did Mom make a mistake? Oh, wait, I understand¨C"

    As Ron said this, Harry also understood what was going on.

    "Mrs. Weasley prepared one for Professor Watson too?"

    "Obviously!" Ron stared at the slightly twisted snake on the sweater, with a strange smile. "Clearly, Mom isn''t good at knitting anything other than lions. Well, I hope Professor Watson doesn''tugh his teeth off when he sees it."

    Ron''s words were just a joke. He knew very well that Professor Watson was not that unfriendly.

    "But why didn''t Mrs. Weasley just send it directly to Professor Watson?" Harry still found it strange. However, at this moment, a note stuck inside the sweater answered Harry''s question.

    "Mom is afraid it would be too presumptuous to send it directly to Professor Watson, and she hopes that we can build a good rtionship with him, so she wants us to deliver it," Ron read the words on the note with a speechless expression.

    "That sounds like something Mrs. Weasley would do," Harry chuckled and turned around, squatting down to continue unpacking his own gifts.

    At the bottom of the pile of gifts, a long package caught Harry and Ron''s attention. This item didn''t look like a gift exchanged between young wizards. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string.

    "What''s that?" Ron eximed, throwing the sweater for Professor Watson on the bed and crossing over the open boxes toe to Harry''s side.

    "Merry Christmas, Harry, Ron!" Hermione''s cheerful voice rang out from the doorway. During the Christmas holiday, the spell that prevented boys and girls from visiting each other in the dormitory tower would temporarily lose its effect. Hermione, who had already sorted out her Christmas gifts, walked into themon room in her pajamas. Even on this grand holiday, her hair was still messy, hanging on her shoulders like a brown curtain.

    "Oh, why is no one paying attention to me?" Hermione said, pouting her delicate nose, as she saw the two boys squatting in front of the bed without acknowledging her greeting. She walked over, slightly annoyed, while taking a deep breath.

    And when her gaze passed over Harry''s head and saw the broomstick he was holding, she also gasped. She recognized it immediately.

    "I can''t believe it," Ron said hoarsely, staring at the shiny and exquisite flying broom in Harry''s hand. His eyes were wide with awe and envy.

    A Firebolt! It was exactly the same as the flying broom that Harry had been dreaming of and went to see every day in Diagon Alley. At that time, he had to do some hard work for Professor Watson in order to see it.

    "Even among the girls, many people who have talked about it!" Hermione added, her voice trembling with disbelief.

    The frozen faces of the two boys gradually showed joy, but Hermione''s delicate eyebrows furrowed. She was not as happy as they were. She was worried and suspicious. "This broomstick is worth at least a few hundred Galleons. Who could have given it to you, Harry?" she asked, her tone serious and concerned.

    "Need I say more, Hermione!" Ron said, as if it was obvious. He admired the dazzling broomstick handle as he gasped for breath and said, "There''s only one person I can think of!"

    "You mean Professor Watson?" Harry immediately realized.

    Indeed, from the current situation, it could only be Professor Watson.

    Professor Dumbledore was impossible. He was the headmaster and even if he favored Harry, he wouldn''t spend such arge sum of money to buy a world-ss broomstick for him. If this matter was known by the young wizards of other three houses, it would probably cause a huge uproar.

    Professor McGonagall was also unlikely. She had already given Harry a Nimbus 2000, which was a very good broomstick in its own right. She was also very strict and fair, and she wouldn''t spoil Harry with another broomstick.

    At Hogwarts, the only staff member with such financial means and a good rtionship with Harry was probably Professor Watson.

    "What else is there to think about, Hermione?" Ron said, as if Hermione was being silly. He couldn''t understand why she was not as thrilled as he was.

    Noticing that Hermione''s furrowed eyebrows still hadn''t rxed, Ron restrained his excitement and said, "Do you remember, Hermione, after the Chamber of Secrets was solved, Professor Watson gave me amemorative coin of merlin and gave you a book. He didn''t give Harry anything at that time, but he said he would give Harry a gift in the future!"

    "Are you suggesting¡­?" Hermione was not pleased with Ron''s irresponsible statement. Her face darkened as she bit her lip and said, "Are you saying that Professor Watson foresaw the appearance of a famous broomstick that would only be avable for sale monthster, Ron?"

    "What''s your suggestion then, Hermione?" Ron nced at Hermione sideways. He was annoyed by her skepticism andck of enthusiasm.

    "We can go and ask him, Ron. It just so happens that we need to give him the sweater Mrs. Weasley knitted." Harry suddenly said, not wanting the sudden brightness of this Christmas morning to be overshadowed by Ron and Hermione''s argument.

    "Come on, let''s go and find him."

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 0246 Lupin & Tom

    0246 Lupin & Tom

    About half an hourter, the three of them gathered in the cozymon room, which was decorated with festive gands and a towering Christmas tree.

    Harry brought the Firebolt and the Cleansweep Seven that Professor Watson had lent him. If the broomstick was really from Professor Watson, he would at least have to return the Cleansweep Seven to him. Ron also brought the sweater his mother had knitted for Bryan.

    "I would rather trade mymemorative coin for this broomstick, Harry." Ron sighed, his excitement fading as they passed through the Fat Lady''s portrait hole. He nced enviously at the sleek and shiny Firebolt, which looked like a masterpiece of alchemy.

    "In terms of value, these two things are about the same, Ron." Hermione said disapprovingly in response to Ron''sint. She adjusted her scarf around her neck, which was a gift from her parents.

    To be honest, after thinking about it for a while, Hermione also thought that the broomstick was likely a gift from Professor Watson.

    Think about it, her favorite thing was books, so Professor Watson had given her a precious and practical magic book with detailed annotations. As for Ron, she and Harry both knew that Ron had a strong attachment to money. Of course, they both knew that it wasn''t Ron''s fault, because he had always had to use his brothers'' hand-me-downs.

    Professor Watson obviously understood Ron, so he had given him a valuablememorative coin, which was issued to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Wizarding Secrecy Act. It was a rare and historical item, and Hermione thought it was very thoughtful of the professor to choose something that rted to Ron''s father''s work.

    Ron''s father was involved in rted work, so Professor Watson obviously hoped that Ron would let go of his impatience and take a serious look at those seemingly ordinary but significant jobs.

    As for Harry, there was no doubt that his favorite thing was Quidditch. He loved flying and ying the thrilling sport, and he was a natural talent.

    But at that time, Harry already had a Nimbus 2000, which was a top-of-the-line broomstick. It was fast, reliable, and elegant, and Harry had been very happy with it. So, giving him a Nimbus 2001 didn''t seem to make much sense. It was only a slight improvement, and it would not make much difference in Harry''s performance. Therefore, Professor Watson had said he would give Harry a gift, but he needed to wait for the future. He was waiting for a better broomstick to appear.

    To some extent, this kind of thinking was reasonable, but Hermione still couldn''t let go of her worries.

    The Firebolt had already been on sale during the summer vacation. At that time, Professor Watson and Harry had happened to be staying at the Leaky Cauldron. If he really wanted to give Harry a good broomstick, why did he have to wait until Christmas? Why didn''t he buy it then and there, and give it to Harry personally?

    On the way, Harry and Ron couldn''t take their eyes off the Firebolt. They were discussing a bunch of professional terms, which Hermione was rarely interested in.

    "I think you should be cautious about this broomstick of unknown origin!" Hermione followed behind Harry and Ron, watching the two excited boys, and finally couldn''t help but remind them. She felt like she was the only one who had any sense of danger, "I think you haven''t forgotten, Harry, Quirrel wanted to make you fall off the broomstick in the first year, and it''s been less than two months since yourst ident. In my opinion, if someone wants to kill you, giving you a cursed broomstick is the simplest way!"

    Harry and Ron''s footsteps suddenly stopped, and their excited expressions froze, especially Harry. He alternated between looking at the serious Hermione and looking down at the broomstick in his hand, his expression veryical.

    "You think¡ª" Harry widened his eyes, looking incredulous, "this broomstick¡­ it''s ck!"

    Ron was also shocked by Hermione''s words, but he reacted quickly. After Harry finished speaking, he immediately shouted, "Come on, Hermione!"

    Ron waved the sweater he had brought for Professor Watson and seemed a little annoyed by Hermione''s wild imagination. He thought she was being paranoid and unreasonable, and he didn''t want to listen to her. "ck is a Fugitive, he''s wanted all over the country. I''d like to see how he can walk into Gringotts and take out hundreds of galleons, and then walk into a crowded Quidditch shop!"

    Harry immediately turned his gaze to Hermione, hoping she coulde up with a reasonable exnation. He wanted to believe that the Firebolt was a genuine gift from Professor Watson, and that there was nothing sinister behind it.

    "Maybe¡ª" Hermione frowned tightly, trying to think of a usible scenario. She knew that Ron had a point, and that it was unlikely that ck had anything to do with the broomstick. But she still felt uneasy, and she wanted to be sure. "He asked a friend for help?"

    "His friends are all in Azkaban, Hermione." Ron said disdainfully, giving Harry a look that meant she was being overly suspicious.

    "I think I heard you arguing?" Suddenly, a head poked out from one of the rooms in the corridor. It was Professor Lupin, with a smile on his face, but he still looked sickly. His pale skin contrasted with his dark hair, which was flecked with grey. The robe that used to fit him snugly was now a size too big, as if a gust of wind could blow him over. He looked like he had lost a lot of weight and strength.

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other in astonishment, and then, almost simultaneously, looked around.

    "Hehe, you''re not in the wrong ce." Lupin smiled and said, reassuring them. "This is just outside Professor Watson''s office. I think you must be here to see him, right?"

    Harry and Professor Lupin had a close rtionship. He had been studying the difficult magic to deal with Dementors with Lupin to fight against them. But encountering Lupin here made Harry feel a bit embarrassed, especially since Ron was holding the sweater that Mrs. Weasley had given to Professor Watson.

    Lupin quickly nced at the two broomsticks in Harry''s hand and the sweater on Ron''s arm, and a cold wind blew by, making him shiver. He wrapped his robe around him more tightly, and gestured for the three of them to follow him.

    "Thene in and talk, all three of you. There''s no reason to stand in the cold corridor and talk." Lupin said, inviting them in. "It''s much warmer inside, and I have some tea and biscuits for you."

    "Come in, Hermione. Crookshanks will be very happy to see you." Lupin beckoned to Hermione separately, knowing that she had a special bond with the ginger cat.

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione hesitated and followed Lupin into Professor Watson''s office. As soon as they stepped inside, they felt a wave of heat wash over them. Because of the roaring firece, it was very warm in here. Harry felt like he had jumped into a bathtub filled with hot water.

    The office was spacious and elegant, with arge desk, a bookshelf, a wardrobe, and a few paintings on the walls. It looked very different from the other teachers'' offices, which were usually cluttered with various objects and papers. Professor Watson''s office was neat and tidy, and everything seemed to have its ce.

    <em>''Professor Watson is probably not at Hogwarts now''</em>¡ªHarry suddenly remembered when he saw Lupin just now. Today was Christmas, and Professor Watson was probably back at the orphanage where he was raised.

    "Oh, Crookshanks, are you okay?" Hermione saw Crookshanks, who had left a permanent dent in the sofa, and rushed over to pick him up, rubbing against him. She hugged him close to her chest, and stroked his fur. Tears of guilt shimmered in her amber eyes. "You must have suffered a lot during this time¡ª"

    Hermione choked up.

    After giving Crookshanks a cold stare, Ron turned his head away. In any case, he couldn''t forgive the killer of Scabbers. He still med Crookshanks for the death of his pet rat, who had been hispanion for years.

    Looking at the clean and tidy room, for some reason, Harry suddenly thought of the fleeting name that appeared in this position two weeks ago.

    Sirius ck!

    Harry had never told Ron and Hermione about it because he felt that it was probably just his imagination. Otherwise, he couldn''t figure out how it happened. How could ck''s name appear here on the Marauder''s Map?

    <em>''Did ck secretly sneak into this room to deal with Professor Watson?''</em>

    God, if ck really had such an idea, Harry wouldugh himself awake from dreaming.

    To be honest, Harry didn''t dare to say that he understood how powerful Professor Watson was, because so far, he had only seen Professor Watson take action once, when he casually imprisoned the snake in the Chamber of Secrets. But the indifference that emanated from Professor Watson, the kind of indifference towards everything, made people feel his confidence, just like Dumbledore. Harry had never seen a panicked expression on the face of the great headmaster of Hogwarts.

    <strong>Meow¨C</strong>

    A sudden meow pulled Harry''s thoughts out of his own world. He subconsciously looked at Hermione''s shoulder and saw that Hermione was also looking at Crookshanks with confusion. After scanning the room, they finally discovered who made the unfamiliar sound on the low camp bed in the innermost part of the office.

    It was a ck cat, about the same size as Crookshanks. It had sleek fur, green eyes, and a white patch on its chest.

    When Harry looked over, the cat moved its gaze away from the Firebolt and looked at its own face.

    "This cat?" Harry blinked, asking in confusion.

    "Cough, you found it, Harry¡ª" Maybe because he had just stood in the doorway and caught a cold breeze, Lupin coughed hoarsely. He gestured for the three little ones not to worry. He walked over to the bed, and picked up the cat gently. He held it in his arms, and smiled at it fondly.

    "It''s called Tom, from the wild. It''s a very clever little guy. Cough, how should I put it, it can be considered as a Christmas gift from Professor Watson to me." Lupin said, exining the cat''s origin.

    After holding Tom in his arms, Lupin turned around and leaned against the edge of the desk, smiling at the three of them.

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 0247 Origin

    0247 Origin

    "Tom¨C" Hermione gasped as she saw the sleek ck cat nestled in Professor Lupin''s arms, which was staring at Harry with a piercing green gaze. She quickly lifted Crookshanks from the floor, where he had been sniffing around curiously, and brought him closer to her chest, happily saying, "Oh, so this is the friend you made outside, Crookshanks?"

    Crookshanks didn''t seem to mind that Hermione had left him outside the castle. He used his soft front paws to gently tug at her bushy hair and then rubbed his furry cheek against hers, purring loudly. His grumpy face, which usually looked like he was scowling, seemed to brighten up a bit, indicating that he was happy to see his owner on Christmas day.

    Hermione was overjoyed by Crookshanks'' affectionate gesture. She held him tightly, stroking his ginger fur, and ignoring Ron''s annoyed muttering beside her. Ron had never liked Crookshanks, especially after he ''killed'' his pet rat, Scabbers.

    "I''m sure you''ve already guessed¨C" Professor Lupin said, interrupting Ron''sints. He patted Tom''s head regretfully, as if he was sorry for keeping him away from his owner. He said, "Professor Watson asked me to keep an eye on the surveince in his office during Christmas, in case any young wizards who couldn''t go home for the holidays needed help."

    Harry hesitated, unsure if he should ask Professor Lupin about the broomstick.

    "That sweater¨C" Professor Lupin noticed the emerald and gold pattern on Ron''s arm, which contrasted sharply with his faded jeans and jumper. He said, "If you want to give it to Professor Watson, you can leave it here, and I can pass it on to him. Of course, you can also give it to him in person, but it might take a few days. I''m afraid he won''t be back for at least a week."

    "This was knitted by my mum, Professor Lupin," Ron said, feeling a bit embarrassed. He pulled the sleeve of his jumper over the sweater, trying to hide it. He said, "To thank Professor Watson for saving me and Ginnyst year. So, I think it''s best if I give it to him in person."

    "Oh, of course, that would be very thoughtful of you," Professor Lupin said, smiling warmly. Then, he turned his gaze to Harry, who had been staring at Tom the whole time. He noticed that Harry looked a bit nervous, as if he wanted to ask something, but didn''t know how. He said, "So, Harry, are you here to return Professor Watson''s broomstick?"

    "Yes, Professor¨C" Harry said, snapping out of his daze. He clumsily ced the Firebolt on the desk, almost knocking over a stack of papers. He said, "If it weren''t for it, I wouldn''t be able to participate in the team''s training. And now, I have a new broomstick¨C"

    He pointed at the shiny new broomstick that he had brought with him, which was leaning against the wall. It had a sleek handle, a smooth tail, and a golden que that read "Firebolt".

    "Yes, I noticed," Professor Lupin said, ncing at the golden registration number on the broomstick handle. His tired eyes, which usually had a kind and gentle expression, became even more serious, and his tone was no longer as cheerful. He said, "It''s a beautiful broomstick, Harry. Is it called the Firebolt? I heard it''s quite expensive. Did you buy it as a Christmas gift for yourself?"

    Harry shook his head, feeling a bit uneasy. He didn''t like the way Professor Lupin was looking at him, as if he had done something wrong. He took some time to exin the situation, and how he had received the broomstick anonymously, with no note or card attached.

    After listening to Harry''s exnation, Lupin''s expression rxed a bit. He had thought that Harry had bought the ridiculously expensive broomstick out of vanity, or worse, out of recklessness. Although he had no right to dictate how Harry should handle his parent''s inheritance, he would have been disappointed if Harry had emptied his own vault just to get the broomstick.

    "Do you think it''s from Bryan?" Lupin asked, after Harry had finished his story. He calmed down and stroked Tom in his arms, who was still watching Harry closely. He said thoughtfully, "Well, sorry, I can''t answer that question because Professor Watson didn''t mention it to me before. But based on what I know about him¡­"

    He saw Hermione give Harry and Ron a teasing look, as if she knew something they didn''t. The two young wizards red back at her, feeling annoyed. After smiling inwardly, Lupin focused on the Firebolt and said, "Of course, I can''t bepletely sure that this broomstick wasn''t a gift from Professor Watson. I''ll ask him when hees back. But, Harry, I don''t rmend using it until we figure out its origin."

    Harry immediately looked disappointed, which was understandable. He had unexpectedly received the best broomstick in the world, but he couldn''t ride it and could only watch it.

    "If it reallyes from a malicious wizard, Harry, Professor Watson has a way to deal with possible traps that might be on the broomstick, so don''t worry about losing it." Professor Lupin said, seeing Harry''s disappointment. He tried to reassure him again, hoping that he would listen to his advice. He said, "It''s better to be safe than sorry, Harry. You don''t want to risk your life for a broomstick, do you?"

    Harry nodded reluctantly, knowing that Professor Lupin was right.

    But at that moment, Tom, who was in Lupin''s arms, suddenly bit him lightly on the ear. Surprised, Lupin lowered his head and saw Tom''s upturned eyes, which seemed to be saying something.

    After a short chat with Professor Lupin, Harry and his friends decided to leave him alone. They could all sense the fatigue on his pale face, and they felt sorry for him.

    Lupin carefully ced Tom on the desk, as he was too heavy for his weak arms. He thanked the three young wizards for their visit and wished them a merry Christmas. As he closed the door behind them, they were startled by the sight of another person waiting in the corridor.

    It was Filch, the castle caretaker.

    Filch had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old-fashioned, moldy-looking tailcoat, which was probably his best outfit for the Christmas lunch.

    Filch, who usually looked menacing and stern, now looked timid and nervous. His face, which was full of double chins, was covered with sweat and anxiety. When he saw Lupin and the three of theming out of the office, he also showed some surprise and fear.

    "Are you here to see Professor Watson, Filch?" Lupin asked, as he walked out from behind Harry and spoke in a gentle tone.

    "Oh, um, yes¨C" Filch stammered, bending his back and sneaking a nce over Lupin''s shoulder, trying to peek into the office.

    Seeing Filch, who usually bullied and punished the young wizards, now acting so meekly, Ron couldn''t help butugh out loud. But Hermione quickly gave him a hard poke in the ribs, making him wince.

    "It seems Professor McGonagall didn''t tell you, Filch," Lupin said, as he moved to the side so that Filch could see inside the room more clearly. "Professor Watson left the schoolst night and probably won''t be back for over a week."

    Upon hearing this, Filch didn''t show any disappointment or regret. Instead, he immediately straightened up and let out a sigh of relief, as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

    "Oh, alright then, sorry for the disturbance," Filch said, as he wiped the sweat off his forehead with a dirty handkerchief and bowed slightly to Lupin before turning around and leaving. Lupin and Harry''s group were puzzled, not understanding what Filch was up to.

    However, before he could walk away, Filch suddenly stopped in his tracks. He hesitated for a few seconds, then turned back to Lupin and said, "There''s something I want you to pass on to Director Watson, if you can¨C"

    "Of course, no problem, Filch," Lupin said, smiling and nodding.

    "Well, you see, Director Watson was looking for a piece of parchment he came to me about before," Filch exined, lowering his voice. "He said there was a nk piece of parchment that I confiscated from some students over a decade ago. He hopes I can find it. I''ve searched my entire office, living quarters, and storage room these past few days, but I couldn''t find it anywhere."

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were standing behind Lupin, exchanged a secret nce and immediately understood what Filch was talking about. Lupin, after hearing Filch''s words, trembled slightly and squinted at him, asking in a soft, almost dreamy voice, "Bryan asked you for a piece of parchment confiscated from students over a decade ago, Is- that so?"

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 0248 Explanation

    0248 Exnation

    "When did this happen, Filch?"

    Lupin''s face darkened for some reason, and he stared at Filch''s eyes with a piercing intensity.

    "Two weeks ago¨C"

    Lupin''s heart sank, this was after Bryan had searched the tunnel under the Whomping Willow.

    Filch wrung his hands nervously, looking afraid that he had failed the task that Director Watson had given him and worried about being targeted. He rambled on about how hard he had tried to find the parchment, but to no avail. He imed that he had always kept a close watch on the confiscated items from the students, and the only reason he couldn''t find it was that some troublemaker had sneaked into his office.

    "It must have been Peeves!" Filch said indignantly, "Can you please talk to Director Watson for me, Professor Lupin? He surely has some tricks to get rid of that crazy ghost from Hogwarts."

    Harry and Ron lowered their heads involuntarily, feeling sorry for Peeves, who had been med for Fred and George''s prank for no reason. They knew that Peeves had nothing to do with the parchment, and that they were the ones who had taken it from Filch''s office. And seeing their guilty looks, Hermione snorted through her nose, looking displeased. She hesitated to look at Lupin, as if she wanted to reveal the truth, but after a series of intense andplicated inner struggles, she said nothing. She was torn between her loyalty to her friends and her respect for Lupin, who had been kind and helpful to them.

    To their surprise, Lupin did not follow Filch''s lead, and remained silent, making them feel suffocated. This silence was so long that Harry had to whisper his name several times before he came to his senses.

    "Oh, I''m fine, Harry¨C"

    Lupin turned his head and smiled apologetically at Harry, but his smile was very ugly. It was forced and strained, and did not reach his eyes. And as he turned his head, he nced at Tom, who was squatting on the desk and looked a bit restless.

    "I''ll pass it on to Watson¨C"

    Lupin nodded at Filch, and took a breath. He suddenly asked, "Has Headmaster Dumbledore left again?"

    After getting a positive answer, Lupin clenched his fist in his sleeve. He turned around and looked at the three of them, and said in an unusually firm tone,

    "I''ve thought about it carefully, and the origin of this broom is indeed very suspicious, Harry. Since Professor Watson is not in Hogwarts, I suggest you take it to Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick. They are also experienced wizards, and if there is something wrong with the broom, they should be able to figure it out¨C"

    Lupin''s words made the three of them look puzzled, but before they could figure it out, Lupin pushed them roughly to Filch''s side with a gloomy face.

    "Please escort these three children to the Great Hall, Filch, and hurry up¨C"

    Lupin did not give them time to ask questions, and urged them repeatedly, until he saw them go down the stairs in the middle of the corridor, and then withdrew his gaze.

    <strong>Huh¨C</strong> Remus took a deep breath, and turned back to the room, closing the office door with a click. He leaned against the door, and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.

    Although he knew that Bryan had set up aplete defensive spell for his office, Lupin still took out his wand and cast all the sealing spells he knew on the rusty door handle. These spells could only be lifted in one situation, and that was when he died. Lupin faced the door with his head down, and no one could see his expression.

    Tom on the desk saw Lupin''s actions clearly, and tilted his head to look at the window, then at the firece, and finally, his gray eyes fixed on Remus at the door, and he sighed softly. He knew what Lupin was doing, and why he was doing it.

    The firece crackled and burned, and from time to time, the remaining moisture in the dry wood was rapidly turned into expanding steam by the scorching heat, and the exploding firewood sshed out star-like sparks to the outside world. They embraced the world with great heat, but they didn''t go far before they lost their light and heat, leaving only the soulless ashes floating in the office¨C

    A deep blue light crossed the distance of the entire office, and Tom wrapped in the blue light slowly floated in the air, followed by a dazzling sh, like a fast-forward shot of a tree growing, a slightly meaty and skinny head grew out, followed by the body and limbs. A momentter, a man wearing an old wizard''s robe, with hair as tangled as seaweed, appeared in the office.

    Remus and Sirius''s eyes met in mid-air, and they looked at each other, one was a fugitive on the run from thew, and the other was a werewolf who had finally found a short-lived ce to stay.

    The once spirited friends, twelve yearster, had be rotten and withered. They had lost their youth, their innocence, and their trust. They had nothing to say to each other, only silence, resentment, and hatred.

    There was no greeting, no scolding, and after a long time, Remus''s face turned pale and he slowly raised his wand at Sirius, and said calmly, "Bryan''s clothes don''t fit you very well, Sirius¨C"

    At this moment, all the anxiety, regret, and resentment disappeared from Sirius''s heart, and the only thing left was exhaustion.

    "Yes¨Cthis is Watson''s old robe, he''s a bit taller than me."

    Sirius nodded, and pursed his lips, showing a bitter smile that could barely be called a smile.

    "You''re still so attentive, Remus, you found out my identity with just a small w."

    Lupin''s wand in his hand trembled slightly, and the blood pumped to his brain by his heart still made him feel a bit dizzy, but he tried his best to adjust his breathing and keep himself awake. He had not slept well for days, and he had just gone through a painful transformation under the full moon. He was weak and vulnerable, but he could not afford to let his guard down.

    This was not easy, especially for him who was in the weakest period due to his transformation.

    "I''m not as good as I used to be¨C" Lupin''s eyes gradually hardened, "otherwise I should have realized something was wrong sooner. But I was lucky enough to figure it out. Yes, Filch helped me a lot, besides you, who else knows where the Marauder''s Map ended up. I mean, among the people who are still alive."

    Sirius''s body also shook a bit, but this was immediately interpreted by Lupin as wanting to resist, and his attitude became tougher. He stretched his wand forward and shouted,

    "Don''t move, Sirius, raise your hands and put them where I can see them!"

    There was no other choice for Sirius. He knew that Lupin would not listen to him, and that any sudden movement could trigger a curse. He had to y along, and hope for a chance to exin.

    "Don''t get excited, Remus¨C"But, Sirius didn''t raise his hands, he looked upset, "If you''re willing to listen to me for a few words, Remus, I can exin to you, although this is not what I intended."

    "I do want to hear your exnation, ck¨C"

    Lupin stepped closer to ck, and stood in the middle of the office, pointing his wand at his former friend''s eyes, and said, "I think it''s better to start with what happened recently. Yes, let''s start with how you persuaded Watson to cover for you. Oh, let me think, yes, I almost forgot, you were born in the noble pure-blood family of the cks, and you have a lot of money, and Viper- Huh, I have to admit that I was wrong again, he is indeed a scum who can give up his principles for money!"

    <em>''Who is Viper?''</em> Sirius felt a bit confused, but at this time, this confusion was obviously trivial.

    "Actually, Bryan Watson is more noble than you think, Remus¨C"

    Sirius said with a strained face, "I did try to use galleons to make him let me go, but he refused!"

    "That''s surprising¨C" Lupin sneered, this kind of smile was rare on his face, "then what did you use to buy him off?"

    "It was¨C" Sirius was about to answer subconsciously, but he realized that Lupin had misunderstood, so he said angrily,

    "It''s not what you think. Don''t get excited, Moony, either listen to my exnation quietly, or write a letter to Watson and ask him toe back, he knows everything, he can prove it for me!"

    "Don''t say that name, ck, you''re not worthy!"

    Lupin suddenly roared, and he stepped over to Sirius, grabbed his cor and pressed his wand hard against Sirius''s forehead.

    "You want to call Watson back!

    Huh? For what? Ah, yes, you know he''s powerful, you know I''m not his match, you want him to kill me, don''t you, ck!"

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 0249 Proof

    0249 Proof

    "I just praised your cleverness, Remus!"

    Remus''s aggressive attitude provoked Sirius''s stubbornness. Although Remus was holding his wand against Sirius''s forehead, Sirius was no longer submissive. He proudly lifted his chin and stared defiantly into Remus''s amber eyes, which were glowing in the dark.

    "You think that Watson was covering for me, helping me infiltrate the castle. But have you ever thought about why he did that? Huh? Was it to kill Harry, James and Lily''s son? Or was he nning to assist me in a massacre inside the castle?" Sirius challenged, his wordsced with bitterness and contempt.

    "Isn''t that your n, to escape from Azkaban and wait for Voldemort to rise again?" Remus blurted out, but halfway through his sentence, he realized something was wrong. His eyes widened as he remembered something that had been nagging at him for a while.

    Two weeks ago, Bryan had learned about their secret hideout from Harry. He knew about the passage under the Whomping Willow, and Sirius had followed Bryan back to Hogwarts that night.

    During the past half month, Bryan had spent most of his time away from the castle. If Sirius and Bryan intended to harm Harry, they would have seeded long ago and would have already fled.

    "Realized something''s wrong, huh?" Sirius keenly caught the hesitation in Remus''s eyes. He was furious, not because of Remus''s attitude towards him, but because of Watson. He suddenly realized that Bryan probably wanted to get rid of him a long time ago, which was why he had asked Remus if he wanted to adopt "Tom" on the day Remus fell ill.

    "I can never understand the schemes in your mind, Sirius!" Remus said coldly, trying to shake off his doubts. He couldn''t believe that Sirius was innocent, that he had been wronged for so long.

    Suddenly, he took a few steps back and a thin rope shot out from the tip of his wand, swiftly wrapping around Sirius from head to toe, binding him tightly. Sirius gasped as the rope constricted his breathing, but he didn''t stop ring at Remus.

    "But I do want to hear your excuses," Lupin said with a cold and stern expression.

    Sirius''s withered cheeks turnedpletely ck. On the night when Watson discovered him, he had treated him the same way.

    To be honest, revealing the truth from that year did not align with his ns at all. Since escaping from Azkaban, his goal had been to kill Peter. He had absolute determination, and no one could stop him, even if it meant death.

    But there were indeed some things that Sirius did not want to face. One of them was seeing those familiar faces before avenging James and Lily. It was not just because he, who had put everything on the line, couldn''t trust those former friends, but also because he couldn''t face the fact that his own stupidity had caused the death of the Potters. This guilt was also the reason he didn''t want to face those familiar faces. He could tell them the truth, but at least it would be after avenging them!

    However, Bryan Watson, that young Slytherin, ruined everything!

    "That traitor wasn''t me, Remus. It was Peter who leaked James and Lily''s whereabouts!" Sirius finally roared out, his words filled with boundless resentment towards Peter and Bryan Watson.

    Remus''s ears were struck by Sirius''s words like thunder, leaving him stunned. Unconsciously, he stammered, "That''s impossible. Dumbledore said it himself, Sirius, James and Lily didn''t want him to be the Secret-Keeper. They chose you. Peter, He''s dead, isn''t he? He died at your hands, and so many Muggles saw it."

    He remembered the news report, the picture of the street, the bodies of the innocent people.

    The next ten minutes were a time for rification.

    Bound by the rope, Siriusy on the ground, revealing unknown facts. This time, he had experience. Without waiting for Remus''s interrogation, he voluntarily spoke about things like why he willingly stayed in Azkaban for twelve years, why he suddenly escaped from there, how he escaped, and what happened before and after and the events leading up to his capture by Watson.

    As Sirius recounted everything, perhaps because he had already gone through it with Watson, he felt a numbness as he spoke. He felt like he was watching a movie, a movie of his life, a movie of his mistakes.

    "Finally, Watson reluctantly agreed not to hand me over to Dumbledore or you. I can''t transform into my animagus form anymore because you would recognize me. So, Watson turned me into a cat and brought me back to Hogwarts¨C" Sirius said wearily, his voice barely above a whisper.

    The ashes floating in the air finally fell to the ground, bursting into ast glimmer of life as they touched the bricks. The room was filled with smoke and dust, making it hard to breathe.

    Remus stared intently at Sirius, his eyes searching for any hint of deception or madness. At some point, the hatred in his eyes had disappeared, reced by confusion.

    How absurd reality was.

    Remus thought wearily, feeling a headacheing on. He had held a grudge for twelve years, and now the events of that year had led to such a result.

    But it wasn''t Sirius who had killed James and Lily; he was innocent.

    But the truth wasn''t much better than before, was it?

    It was still a tragedy, a nightmare.

    "This is just your side of the story, Sirius. There is no evidence to prove¨C" After a long silence, Remus shook his head and said, his voice hoarse and strained. "I can''t find any ws in your story, Sirius, but this is a serious matter. You must provide evidence to prove that what you''re saying is not a carefully crafted lie."

    Remus actually believed him now. He just felt helpless and lost. War was cruel, but human hearts were even crueler.

    He didn''t know what to do, what to feel. He felt like he had been living in a lie, in a delusion, in a fantasy.

    "If you want to see my memories, then go ahead, Remus¨C" Siriusy on the bed, his body devoid of any anger. Of course, he had no right to be angry with Remus. After all, this tragedy originated from his foolish suggestion. He was the one who had convinced James and Lily to switch their Secret-Keeper from him to Peter, thinking that it would be safer.

    "You know, Sirius¨C" Remus rubbed his stiff cheeks with his palm, feeling the stubble on his face. He hadn''t shaved in days.

    "I''m not as skilled in Legilimency as Bryan. If you don''t mind, Snape is currently¡­"

    Seeing Sirius''s sudden change in expression, Lupin changed his words.

    "I can write a letter to Albus. He will surely find a way to prove the truth of what you said." Remus said instead, hoping that Sirius would agree.

    "If you insist on doing that, Remus¨C" Sirius went from lying on his side to lying t on his back. He stared at the dark brown ceiling, lifeless as he spoke.

    "Then go ahead and call Dumbledore. Maybe Watson was right. I am indeed a hopeless fool. Perhaps it''s time to end all of this." Sirius said, his voice hollow and empty.

    Upon hearing these words, Remus suddenly softened.

    The once spirited and talented prankster seemed to have died. What stood before him now was just a shell driven by hatred.

    Remus remembered the old days, the happy days, the golden days.

    "Alright¨C" Remus sighed suddenly, making a decision. Sirius was a proud person, and he could imagine how much torment Sirius had endured in his heart over the years. That was why he was so obsessed with killing Peter. Remus himself wanted to do the same, to kill Peter with his own hands and let this guilt end with the four of them, without letting Peter''s dirty soul harm anyone else, including Albus Dumbledore.

    "Just don''t tell Albus for now¨C" Remus took a deep breath, feeling a rush of adrenaline. He waved his wand, causing Sirius, who was staring at him in surprise, to fall onto the bed. Then, he rushed to the desk and quickly wrote a letter on a piece of parchment. Two minutester, Remus folded the parchment, which was filled with elegant handwriting, and put it in an envelope.

    "Sorry, I can''t let you go just yet, Sirius. I wrote a letter to Bryan, asking him toe back temporarily and personally confirm what you said. So<strong>- STUPEFY!!</strong>" Remus said, turning to Sirius, who was still lying on the bed.

    A Stunning Spell knocked Sirius unconscious, and after unbinding the ropes, Remus checked to make sure they were secure. He lifted Sirius''s limp body and carried him to the bed, tucking him under the covers. He picked the letter on the bedside table, and grabbed his cloak and wand. Now, He had to go to the owlery and send this letter to Bryan.

    The unlocking spell was cast, and the door creaked open.

    Before leaving, Remus''s footsteps suddenly paused. He turned his head and looked at Sirius, who was unconscious on the bed. Suddenly, he pursed his lips and revealed a pale smile.

    "Anyway¡­ wee back, Padfoot¨C"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0250 The Owlery

    0250 The Owlery

    Remus knew that he had to be careful with his words. He could not afford to let anyone know that Sirius ck, the notorious mass murderer, was hiding in the office.

    In order to prevent his letter from being intercepted by anyone, Remus did not write anything rted to Sirius in the letter. He wrote subtly:

    <em>I apologize for disturbing you and your family during Christmas, Bryan. Do you remember the house-elf named Tom? It suddenly came back to me and shared some very surprising secrets. I can''t tell if they are true or not, but it told me that you know those things are true. So, could you pleasee back as soon as possible and talk to me?</em>

    Even though he was still in the weakened period of his werewolf transformation, He walked briskly down the stairs, avoiding the students and teachers who were enjoying their lunch in the Great Hall. He made his way to the West Tower, where the owlery was located.

    Along the way, he repeatedly thought about what might be missing in this short letter, so that if it fell into the hands of others, it would not be associated with Sirius ck.

    Reaching the bottom of the tower on the eighth floor of the West Tower, Remus leaned against the rough stone wall, panting. Beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down his pale cheeks.

    Despite feeling incredibly exhausted, Remus felt a surge of generous enthusiasm rising from the depths of his heart as he looked through the arched window and gazed at the undting white forest.

    Sirius ck and Peter Pettigrew were ultimately different.

    One minuteter, Remus, having rested, straightened his back and finally saw the circr stone house after passing through a narrow spiral staircase.

    The owlery was a circr stone house with a domed roof. It had several windows, but none of them had ss. They were left open for the owls toe and go as they pleased. This made the shed very cold, especially on a winter day like this. The floor was covered with straw, owl droppings, and owl regurgitated mouse bones. The smell was unpleasant and nauseating. Remus wrinkled his nose and tried to ignore it.

    Sirius was still unconscious in the office. Although without a wand, he couldn''t break the spells that Bryan and himself had cast to seal the office. But in the current situation, Remus couldn''t feel at ease without keeping an eye on him.

    There were dozens of owls in the shed, of different sizes, colors, and breeds. Some of them belonged to the school, and some of them belonged to the students. They were perched on wooden shelves that lined the walls, or on metal bars that hung from the ceiling. They looked at Remus with curiosity, or indifference, or annoyance.

    Remus scanned the owls, looking for one that was fast and reliable. He spotted a brown barn owl that he recognized as one of the school owls. It was sitting on a high perch, near the door. It looked alert and ready to fly. Remus decided to use it. He walked towards it, holding the envelope in his hand.

    But before he could reach the owl, something unexpected happened. As he entered the shed, he startled the owls that were near him. They pped their wings and flew up into the air, creating amotion. They hooted loudly and angrily, as if they were protesting his intrusion.

    But that was not the worst part. In the midst of the chaos, he heard a noise that made his blood run cold. It was the sound of human voices,ing from the shadows, in the innermost part of the owlery. He turned his head and saw three figures standing up, behind several copsed shelves. They had been hiding there, and he had not noticed them. They looked as surprised and scared as he was. They faced him, with stiff and pale faces, wearing extremely unnatural expressions.

    Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe-these were third-year students from Snape''s house.

    Remus raised an eyebrow, and he subconsciously wanted to hide the envelope behind his back, but he suddenly came to his senses and realized that they were just three students. Immediately, he chuckled at himself in his mind and stopped the small movement in his hand.

    "What are you here for¨C" Before Lupin could even greet them, Malfoy asked first in a dry and impolite tone.

    Malfoy''s tone was disrespectful and rude, but Remus was not surprised. As a seasoned wizard who had been in the Wizarding world for nearly twenty years, he had noticed Malfoy''s disdain and contempt for him since he joined the school. It was only natural for the descendant of the Malfoy family, known for their wealth and shrewdness in the magical world, to look down on a poor and destitute wizard.

    "Ah, it''s you three--" Remus did not let Malfoy''s attitude affect him. He was used to being treated poorly by people like him. He had faced worse things in his life. He smiled and said, "I thought this was the ce to send letters, Mr. Malfoy."

    Lupin shook the envelope in his hand and said, "And I happen to have a letter that needs to be sent."

    "To whom?" Malfoy asked again.

    This question was too rude, and even the good-tempered Remus frowned slightly upon hearing it.

    "It''s for Professor Watson, Mr. Malfoy. He went back to spend Christmas with his family, and I happen to have something urgent to discuss with him--"

    However, after a brief moment of thought, Lupin still answered the question. He looked at Malfoy, who had a nk expression, and the two big guys beside him, and suddenly felt a slight movement in his heart.

    The night before, during a casual conversation, Bryan had mentioned Malfoy. The reason for discussing Malfoy was because after that ''Practical'' ss, Malfoy had suffered from the cold violence of the Slytherin wizards due to his unexpected performance in ss. Bryan thought that Malfoy would quickly ovee the embarrassing situation, butter he learned from Snape that Malfoy seemed to be unable to recover.

    Bryan hoped to help Malfoy, but Snape repeatedly advised him not to try to change the rules within Slytherin, which made Bryan somewhat resentful.

    Thinking of this, looking at the lifeless young wizard in front of him, Lupin''s eyes suddenly showed a hint of sympathy, and his voice became softer.

    "So, what are you doing here then? Oh, please don''t misunderstand, I don''t mean to pry into your secrets. I just think you should spend Christmas in a more cheerful way, gentlemen. I happen to know that Professor McGonagall is preparing a small banquet in the Great Hall at noon. If you don''t have anything important to do, I suggest you go and take a look. After all, a sizzling steak and the delicious pudding are much more pleasing to the eye than the stinky owlery, aren''t they?"

    He smiled and tried to sound friendly and casual. He hoped that Malfoy would take his advice, and join the other students in the Great Hall.

    But his hopes were dashed. His long speech did not seem to have any effect on Malfoy and the others. They did not smile back, or nod, or say anything. They just stood there, staring at him, as if they were on guard against him.

    <em>''This was strange. Why did these three little guys insist on staying in the Owlery?''</em>

    "We''re not hungry¨C" Just as Lupin''s inquisitive gaze fell on the faces of Malfoy and the others, and before he could ask them anything, Crabbe suddenly pulled out a piece ofmb chop that had been gnawed beyond recognition from behind him. He said, in a muffled and gruff voice,

    "We''ve already eaten."

    Remus felt a surge of absurdity and amusement. He could not believe what he was seeing and hearing. He could not understand how a student could be so rude and foolish.

    He said, in a sarcastic and incredulous tone, "Oh, interesting. Are you having a feast in the Owlery?!"

    He looked at themb chop, which was greasy and bloody, and smelled of meat and fire. He looked at the Owlery, which was cold and dirty, and smelled of straw and dung. He looked at Crabbe, who was holding themb chop, and looked like a savage and a beast.

    He wanted to say more things. But, Perhaps tired of Lupin''s entanglement, Malfoy bluntly said, "This has nothing to do with you, Professor Lupin!"

    Being disliked to this extent, Lupin finally felt unhappy. He nodded, giving up on the idea of trying to enlighten these three rebellious young wizards, and quickly found a reliable-looking school owl. He stuffed the envelope into the owl''s w and whispered, "This is urgent, please deliver it as soon as possible, at least bring back a reply."

    Watching the owl''s figure gradually turn into a ck dot in the high sky until it was no longer visible, Lupin breathed a sigh of relief and withdrew his gaze.

    "Well then¨C"

    Lupin looked at Malfoy, who looked like a wooden stake.

    "I''ll take my leave. I wish you a Merry Christmas¨C"

    Because he was afraid that something might go wrong in the office, after leaving these words, Lupin turned around and left without noticing the hint of fear and pleading in Malfoy''s gray eyes.

    The owls here were already familiar with Malfoy and the others. After Lupin left, many owlsnded back on the ground and leisurely pecked at the sparse grass seeds in the fluffy straw.

    <em>''What exactly happened to Lupin that made him write a letter to Bryan Watson in such a hurry on Christmas Day?''</em>

    A few minutester, when everything returned to normal, a mouse with a missing right index finger silently appeared on Malfoy''s shoulder--

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0251 Betrayal?

    0251 Betrayal?

    Time goes back to early November.

    The majestic rain shakes the world, and the vast ck Lake trembles in the turbulent waves caused by the fierce wind. In the deep and bottomless depths of theke, a massive ck shadow grows restless due to the turbulentke. It swings its tentacles, covered with huge suction cups, and asionally smashes against the emerald green rocks, causing the Slytherin Common Room next to the ck Lake to shake.

    "That ugly beast is throwing a tantrum again!"

    Daphne cast a cold gaze at the raging giant squid outside the ss window. She could see its enormous eyes, glowing with anger and annoyance, as it thrashed about in the water.

    If students from the other three houses had the chance to see the legendary giant squid in the ck Lake, they would definitely tremble with excitement. But for the students of Slytherin, it was just a daily scenery. Whenever theke surface became turbulent, this giant creature would always get annoyed by being disturbed from its slumber.

    It was around noon, and the Slytherin Common Room, filled with dim green lights, was not crowded with students. Most of the people here were gathered around the exquisitely carved firece, continuing the discussion fromst night and talking in awe about the incident that happened during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

    "I can''t understand why Draco would do such a thing when he clearly despises that idiot Potter."

    Pansy Parkinson looked weary and mncholic.

    "It is indeed puzzling¨C"

    Outside the rippling window, the giant squid, which was venting its frustration, spotted a group of unfortunate Grindylows passing by. It changed its target, spitting out a series of bubbles big enough to fit Hagrid inside, and whipping its tentacles like a whip, spinning the unlucky water creatures around. The Grindylows squealed and squirmed, trying to escape the squid''s wrath, but to no avail. They were tossed and turned, until they were either crushed by the suction cups, or flung out of theke.

    Daphne found this scene boring. She had seen it many times before, and she felt no sympathy for the Grindylows. She withdrew her gaze and patted Pansy''s shoulder.

    "No matter how you look at it, Draco''s actions can be considered a betrayal. If it weren''t for his unteral actions, we would never have lost to those foolish and reckless trolls from Gryffindor. We should have been the ones to shine in front of Professor Watson!"

    "I don''t want you to speak ill of Draco, Daphne!"

    To Daphne''s surprise, Pansy didn''t feel relieved or anything because of her words. Instead, she pointed at her with sharp eyes and said arrogantly,

    "And you don''t have the right, Daphne. Don''t forget, your family relies on the support of the Malfoy family to maintain many of its businesses. You should show some respect for Draco!"

    After an awkward silence, Daphne reluctantly nodded.

    "You''re right, Pansy¨C"

    She first acknowledged the fact that Pansy pointed out, but then she quickly changed the subject and said,

    "But I must tell you, Pansy, most of us¨CI mean Theodore, ise, Millicent, and the rest of us have reached a consensus. Draco must pay a price for his betrayal. We won''t participate in cleaning the owlery today unless¨C"

    "Unless what, Daphne?"

    Before Pansy could express her anger at Daphne''s words, a cold voice suddenly came from behind the two girls, causing both Daphne and Pansy to change their expressions.

    It was Draco Malfoy and his two loyal supporters, Crabbe and Goyle. They had just entered themon room, and had overheard thest part of Daphne''s sentence. He walked towards Daphne and Pansy, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, who looked like tworge and dumb bodyguards.

    In the current Wizarding world, apart from a few sacred pure-blood families with significant positions in the Ministry of Magic, the wealthy Malfoy family was probably the most powerful and influential one. Faced with the anger of the heir to such a pivotal family, Daphne and Pansy felt a bit nervous.

    Before Daphne could exin her words from earlier, Draco raised his chin and stared coldly at her, his tone full of contempt.

    "Do I need to apologize to you, Daphne?"

    He asked, as if he had done nothing wrong, and as if Daphne was the one who owed him something.

    "Shouldn''t you exin yourself, Draco?"

    Daphne couldn''t be presumptuous in front of Draco. She suppressed her anger, looked down at the ground, and exined with a hint of dissatisfaction,

    "You let everyone down. Theodore, ise, Millicent, and I worked so hard to buy time for Slytherin, but you spent your energy on saving that idiot Potter¨C"

    "I don''t need to exin anything to you, Daphne¨C"

    Draco said without any courtesy, but when he saw the saddened Pansy, his expression showed some hesitation. But he quickly dismissed the thought, and put on a stern face and said,

    "But since you all have reached a consensus, fine, I will go take care of that filthy creature''s shed¨C"

    "I can help too, Draco."

    Pansy didn''t hesitate. She stared at the dominant Draco Malfoy with infatuation and said dreamily.

    "No need, Pansy. I don''tck support."

    Draco extended his thumb and pointed at Crabbe and Goyle standing behind him. After saying this, he turned and left.

    Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff in the Quidditch match, and the weak and ipetent Potter fell from the sky due to a Dementor attack. It was said that even his Nimbus 2000 broomstick turned into a pile of debris. Professor Watson showed his power and directly trapped the Dementors sent by the Ministry of Magic at the school gate.

    These things should have pleased Draco, but Daphne''s words just nowpletely ruined his mood. However, he couldn''t find a suitable reason to exin his actions. He couldn''t possibly tell them that he had a small favor for Potter because of the Dark Arts Defense ssst year.

    If he said that, Draco could be sure that he would be aughingstock in Slytherin from now on.

    It was lunchtime, and the air in the Great Hall was filled with the aroma of delicious food. As they passed through the entrance hall, Crabbe and Goyle gazed longingly at the mouthwatering delicacies on the grand table, their mouths watering.

    "Can we go eat something, Draco¨C" Goyle said with a foolish voice, "We''re so hungry we can''t walk anymore."

    "Cleaning is such a tiring job, Draco," Crabbe also chimed in softly, "We will starve to death."

    "Do you honestly think I''d spend half the day in that stinky stone house, Crabbe, Goyle?"

    Draco seethed with anger and scolded them.

    "I n to just go there and have a look, and give Professor Watson an exnation. Hurry up, we can make it back for lunch!"

    He said this with a tone of impatience and reassurance.

    The three of them hurried up to the west tower, and stopped outside the shed.

    They opened the door, and a strong smell of bird droppings hit them, making Malfoy nauseous.

    Malfoy often came to the owlery, but when he really had to clean this stone house, he realized how smelly it was.

    He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and he covered his nose with his hand. He saw the piles of droppings and the bones on the floor, and he felt a surge of revulsion.

    Crabbe and Goyle were very conscious. As soon as they entered the house, they went to the corner where the brooms and other cleaning tools were ced, and rolled up their sleeves, ready to work hard.

    They felt a pang of hunger in their stomachs, and they licked their lips with their tongues.

    "Put down those stupid things in your hands¨C"

    Seeing Crabbe and Goyle''s clueless look, Malfoy was even more annoyed. He lifted his foot, and looked disgustedly at the bird droppings and undigested rat bones on the sole of his shoe.

    "Are the wands in your pockets for decoration?"

    "But we don''t know any cleaning spells, Draco--"

    Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other and said in a foolish voice.

    "Then just do something random," Draco said this with a tone of sarcasm and ridicule. He pulled out his wand from his pocket while speaking impatiently, "Anyway, let people know that we''ve been here!"

    Well, with Draco''smand, Crabbe and Goyle finally found their direction. After Draco stepped back onto the threshold, the two of them began to wave their wands and clumsily imitate cleaning movements, resembling trolls wandering around with sticks.

    Crabbe seemed to want his wand to spray some water to clean the floor, but somehow, a burst of orange mes erupted from the wand tip instead, shooting up into the air and exploding a tail feather of an owl that was resting on a high perch!

    Now they had really stirred up a ho''s nest. The enraged owls, which were perched on the branches, took off one after another. They were not used to being disturbed by clumsy and careless students, and they were not happy about being set on fire by Crabbe''s wand.

    Several owls fluttered above Crabbe and Goyle''s heads, pecking at their heads with sharp beaks, while most of the owls in mid-air unleashed their killer moves.

    <strong>Smack!</strong>

    Draco, who was standing at the door watching themotion, suddenly felt a warm sensation on his lips. He instinctively wiped it with his hand and looked at it closely, only to see a sticky, grayish-brown substance.

    "You¡­you¡­"

    In an instant, Draco, who was furious, drew his wand and jumped into the room, roaring at the agitated owls,

    "You beasts, I''ll KILL YOU!!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0252 Bad Luck

    0252 Bad Luck

    With Malfoy joining the ''battlefield'', Crabbe and Goyle alsopletely let themselves loose.

    They saw teasing these owls as a good opportunity to vent their frustration. The curses'' lights grazed the wings of the owls, scaring the little creatures and causing them to panic. Many of the terrified owls flew aimlessly and one even crashed into a hard stone wall, losing consciousness. Its feathers were stained with blood and its eyes were wide open in fear.

    "Haha, look at these fools!" Amidst the crackling sounds of explosions, Malfoy''sughter sounded particrly sharp and cruel. "I have something even more interesting!"

    <strong><em>"Serpensortia!"</em></strong>

    As he spoke, Malfoy flicked his wrist and his wand immediately emitted a wisp of ethereal ck smoke. As the smoke touched the ground, it transformed into a long, thick ck snake. The snake raised its head proudly, staring at the owls flying around, asionally spitting out crimson snake venom. Its scales glistened in the dim light and its tongue flickered in and out.

    However, the situation didn''t go as Malfoy expected. Instead of being further frightened by the presence of the snake, the owls became even more excited. A snowy white owl broke free from the flock, moving so fast that even the snake couldn''t react. Its steel-like talons swept across the snake''s back, causing Malfoy''s snake to copse on the ground like an overfed caterpir. The owl let out a triumphant hoot and flew back to join itspanions.

    "Draco, owls like to eat snakes¨C"

    Malfoy''s pale face froze instantly, and the words spoken by Crabbe made him even more furious.

    "Don''t run, you damn beast!"

    Already filled with anger that couldn''t be vented, Malfoy shouted loudly and used a powerful curse.

    <strong><em>"Expulso!"</em></strong>

    The curse light of expulso suddenly collided with the wall. After a violent explosion, the curse grazed the wing of an owl and rebounded, heading straight towards Goyle''s stomach.

    "Get out of the way!"

    In an instant, Malfoy realized that he had acted impulsively. Using this curse in a room surrounded by walls was simply asking for trouble.

    Goyle hadn''t reacted yet, and Malfoy rushed towards him like a rolling ball. At the critical moment, he bumped into Goyle, causing him to stagger back a few steps. Malfoy himself managed to dodge the rebounded curse''s light by a hair''s breadth.

    However, the expulso curse that touched the ground exploded once again. The strong air lifted Malfoy, who was suspended in mid-air, and if it weren''t for Goyle acting as a cushion, just this impact alone would have been enough to keep him in the hospital wing for several days!

    In the next few seconds, the expulso curse collided with the stone house, creating continuous explosions. Finally, after crashing into a dusty wooden shelf at the back of the room, the rebounded curse flew out of the window and disappeared. The shelf copsed and the books and papers on it scattered all over the floor.

    With thismotion, the owls no longer challenged Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. They flew out of the small windows on the stone walls, leaving this ce of chaos!

    The owlery was filled with dust, and the ground and surrounding stone walls were covered in small circr pits created by the expulso curse. Malfoy and hispanions desperately covered their ears andy on the ground, wishing they could hide in a pile of hay. They coughed and sneezed as the dust entered their noses and mouths.

    "Oh, damn it!"

    It wasn''t until five minutester that Malfoy exhaled a puff of smoke, supported his forehead, and stood up in a dazed manner. When he saw the mess he had caused in front of him, his face turned red with anger. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

    "What should we do, Draco¨C"

    Goyle was also pulled up by Crabbe. The two of them brushed off the dust from their robes while wearing mournful expressions. "If Professor Watson finds out about what we did, he will make us clean the Owlery for several years."

    Upon hearing this, Malfoy held his breath.

    It had to be said that Goyle rarely had foresight. Based on Malfoy''s understanding of Professor Watson, he was capable of doing such a thing!

    The copsed owlery made Malfoy feel a sense of difficulty. Just then, from the innermost part of the shed, only a decaying wooden leg was still propping up a wooden shelf. With a loud crash, the six to seven feet tall shelf copsedpletely, stirring up a cloud of rolling dust. The dust covered everything in a thickyer of gray, obscuring the sight of Malfoy and hispanions.

    <strong>Squeak!</strong>

    Before the dust settled, a miserable and piercing screech suddenly came from the haze, catching the attention of Malfoy and hispanions who were coughing from the dust. The sound was shrill and desperate, as if something was in great pain.

    "What''s going on? What is making that noise?!"

    Crabbe looked frightened and eximed. He clutched his wand tightly, fearing that some dangerous creature was lurking in the dust.

    "It''s nothing serious, Crabbe. Probably just a rat. There are dead rats everywhere here, They were all caught by those beasts from outside¨C"

    After listening carefully for a few moments, Malfoy breathed a sigh of relief and said.

    Underneath the copsed shelf, Scabbers'' gray and fluffy body twitched continuously. One of his legs was pinned down by the fallen shelf, and from the bent angle, it was most likely broken. He felt a sharp pain in his leg, and he could not move it at all. He tried to gnaw at the wood, but it was too hard and thick for his teeth.

    <em>''How unlucky does one have to be to encounter such a situation?''</em> Scabbers wailed in his heart!

    After faking his death and escaping from Ron during the Halloween feast, he had been hiding here all this time.

    <em>''Wasn''t it a brilliant idea?''</em>

    Even if Sirius ck infiltrated the castle again and discovered that he had left the boy, he would never think that he would be hiding in the owlery. Just like Lucius''s son said, rats are the owls'' food. Who would have thought that a rat would dare to hide right under the predator''s nose?

    But no matter how much he calcted, Scabbers didn''t anticipate that Bryan would send these Slytherin brats to clean the owlery, and that Malfoy and his twockeys would cause so much havoc here!

    The rat''s beady ck eyes were filled with ''crystal'' tears, and his heart was filled with immense sadness.

    His leg was broken, he had no wand, and there was no one to treat him. What should he do next?

    "Hey, Draco, look at this!"

    Just as Scabbers was wallowing in self-pity, the dust cleared, and the dazzling blue light from the lightning cut through the rain curtain, illuminating the chaotic owlery. Taking advantage of this light, Goyle suddenly eximed, pointing at Scabbers in disbelief. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped open.

    Draco thought Goyle had discovered something extraordinary, but when he saw Scabbers, he immediately red at Goyle with disgust and said,

    "What''s the matter? It''s just a rat. What, do you like it?"

    He sneered at Goyle, mocking his stupidity andck of taste.

    "I''ve seen it before, Draco, it''s, it''s¨C"

    Goyle struggled to think and exin to Draco what was special about this rat. He racked his brains, trying to recall where he had seen this rat before. And at the moment Goyle called out, Scabbers'' body suddenly stiffened, and he let out a frightened squeak. Suppressing his fear, he struggled even harder to break free.

    "This rat belongs to Weasley!"

    In Draco''s increasingly angry gaze, Goyle, who was sweating profusely, finally managed to blurt out in a hurry,

    "This is Weasley''s rat, Draco, remember? It bit me before!"

    The heavy rain washed the world, and the flickering lightning in the clouds made the eerie cloud clusters appear sinister and bizarre. The thunder roared and shook the earth, as if announcing the arrival of a storm.

    Inside the owl shed, it was gloomy, and even the sound of the pouring rain was suppressed by the strange atmosphere in the room, making little noise. The only light came from the asional shes of lightning, which cast eerie shadows on the walls. The air was thick with dust and the smell of feathers and droppings.

    <em>''Weasley''s rat had bitten Goyle before?''</em>

    Malfoy stared at the trembling and shivering Scabbers with confusion and bewilderment in his gray eyes. He couldn''t remember when this had happened, but he did recognize the skinny, dirty fur of the rat, as if he had seen it somewhere before. He frowned and tried to recall the memory, but it was vague and blurry.

    "It was during our first year on the Hogwarts Express!" Goyle couldn''t help but remind him.

    The sudden gust of wind, carrying a damp chill, lifted Draco''s hair from his forehead, clearing his mind. He felt a jolt of recognition, as the scene from three years ago shed in his mind.

    "Oh, I remember now, it was back then!" Malfoy eximed loudly.

    It was during their first year at Hogwarts, when everyone was excitedly discussing Harry Potter being on the same train. Out of curiosity, he, Goyle, and Crabbe visited Harry Potter''spartment and discovered the ck-haired, green-eyed, malnourished little boy who his mother had encountered at Madam Malkin''s Robes for All asions when they were buying their school uniforms.

    At the time, he had nned to befriend Harry Potter!

    Thinking back to his "ignorant youth," Malfoy shuddered with shame at his ridiculous thoughts. But immediately after, he burst intoughter.

    "Ah, it''s you!"

    In a few steps, Malfoy and his twopanions surrounded the helpless Scabbers like three giants. Malfoy pointed his wand at Scabbers'' head, wearing a malicious smile.

    "The pathetic sidekick of cowardly Potter, the rat of the Weasley family who willingly degraded himself. What are you doing here?"

    Watching Scabbers trembling in fear, the pent-up frustration in Malfoy''s heart quickly dissipated since Professor Watson''s practical ss. Malfoy used the tip of his wand to poke at Scabbers'' body.

    Malfoy crouched down, eyeing Scabbers¡¯ injured leg with curiosity, as he answered his own question. He spoke in a falselypassionate tone, as if he cared about the rat¡¯s fate.

    ¡°Did you run away from home, because the Blood-traitor Weasley was so destitute that he couldn¡¯t even feed a rat, so you had to scavenge for yourself?¡±

    Crabbe and Goyle howled withughter, enjoying Malfoy¡¯s taunting. They chimed in with their own jibes and jests.

    ¡°Or maybe he was looking for a better owner, but no one wanted him!¡±

    ¡°Or maybe he tried to join the owls, but they shooed him away!¡±

    ¡°Enough, you two!¡±

    Malfoy didn''t notice the fear in Scabbers'' eyes, which showed a remarkable amount of humanity. He stood up abruptly, pushing the two big guys a few steps back. Then, he turned around at a distance of ten feet, holding his wand and wearing a wicked smile.

    "We need to have some fun!"

    Scabbers desperately scratched at the ground, hoping to escape into the shadows. But as a mere rat, hecked the strength to move the heavy wooden frame, and the pain from his broken leg tormented his nerves.

    What should he do?

    ck hadn''t managed to ovee the obstacles and reach him yet, but the annoying little boys had unexpectedly discovered him and seemed determined not to let him go easily.

    Suddenly, he felt a slight tug on his injured hind leg. He felt ecstatic, thinking he had finally freed himself from the shackles of the wooden frame. Just as he was about to escape into the shadows using his remaining three ws, he suddenly felt his body be weightless. In the next moment, he was uncontrobly floating in mid-air.

    He realized toote that it was Malfoy''s magic that had lifted him up. He felt a surge of panic, as he realized that he was at Malfoy''s mercy. He tried to wriggle and squirm, but it was useless.

    Seeing Scabbers desperately struggling and scratching on the ground, Malfoy''s mockingughter became even more joyful. He watched with delight as the rat''s fear and pain increased.

    "Let me think¡­ Ah, I''ve got it!"

    Malfoy''s excited gaze wandered around, and when he saw arge pile of gray-green bird droppings under a branch, his gray eyes suddenly lit up.

    "Look at what the Weasley has turned you into, you little thing, aren''t you hungry!"

    With that, Malfoy swiftly swung his wand, and Scabbers, like an insect trapped in solidifying amber, traced a graceful curve in mid-air and plunged headfirst into the fresh pile of bird droppings.

    <strong>Squeak!</strong>

    Scabbers'' three limbs slipped on the ground within the pile, but now he was just a rat,pletely powerless against the force of magic.

    "Hey, don''t run away, little guy!"

    Amidst Crabbe and Goyle''s loud cheers, Malfoy''s face, tinged with a bluish hue, gradually became ferocious. He used his magic to keep Scabbers firmly pressed in the pile of bird droppings, controlling his body to roll around as if giving him a bath.

    "Since you can tolerate Potter and the Weasleys, this pile of bird droppings obviously shouldn''t be a problem for you!"

    Malfoy''s expression was menacing, his nose raised, and his eyes filled with malice. He was determined to torment Scabbers until he was satisfied before giving up.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    <strong>Author''s Note: Starting from this chapter, I aim to write more than 2000 words per chapter to make the story flow faster without sacrificing the quality.</strong>

 0253 Madness&Mercy

    0253 Madness&Mercy

    The torment of hunger, the pain of severed limbs, the stench of bird droppings, the dizziness of spinning¨C

    Each one was impacting Peter''s nerves like a tsunami, even with his tolerable personality, his anger was swelling and uncontrobly in his heart, until a moment-

    A dazzling light suddenly shed in the dim owl shed, Malfoy broke the connection of his wand, instinctively covering his eyes, and Crabbe and Goyle, who were watching the show behind him, had the same reaction. Two secondster, Malfoy, who was caught off guard by the bright light, put down his hand, and when he saw the where the light appeared, his expression suddenly became stunned.

    <em>''That rat turned into a strange man?''</em>

    This was a very small person, not much taller than Malfoy himself, with dull and sparse hair, arge bald spot on top of his head, and the man looked wrinkled, like a fat man who had lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin was dirty, in fact, using the word "dirty" was a bit too mild - his exposed skin was covered in bird droppings.

    "That''s enough!"

    Peter''s sharp voice was like nails scraping on a chalkboard, his small green eyes filled with murderous intent, staring angrily at the stunned Malfoy.

    "Damn it. You three little bastards, I want you to pay the price!"

    In that instant, several questions shed through Malfoy''s mind:

    <em>''Where did that rat go? Who is this man? Where did hee from? What the hell did Weasley actually raise?''</em> But before he could find any answers, this ugly man pounced on him, his face twisted with rage and madness. The only word Malfoy shouted was:

    "Run!"

    Malfoy reacted quickly, almost immediately realizing that this strange man was very dangerous. He felt a cold sweat on his forehead, and a surge of fear in his chest. In the moment he shouted, he had already turned and rushed towards the door. But unfortunately, Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind him, and these two big idiots hadn''t figured out what was going on yet. They were wondering why Draco turned a rat into an ugly dwarf, and when did Draco master this neat transformation magic?

    They looked at each other, confused and curious, blocking Draco''s way out. Draco cursed under his breath, and tried to push them aside, but it was toote. At the critical moment of escape, Malfoy was blocked by his two loyalckeys, and in the blink of an eye, their hope of escaping alive waspletely dashed.

    A rough but powerful hand like a pincer mped his neck from behind, causing Draco to immediately suffocate. He felt a sharp pain in his throat, and a choking sensation in his lungs. His cheeks turned red, and his body was unable to move, while the man behind him unceremoniously took away his wand.

    "Help¡­ me."

    Draco opened his hand and desperately pleaded for help from Crabbe and Goyle, who were just within reach, but the subsequent violent explosion made him lose hisst hope.

    The two big guys were blown away by Peter, who had cast a powerful sting curse at them. They flew across the room, crashing into the walls and cages, and falling to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.

    Then Malfoy''s body was twisted around. He looked at this ugly man who was about the same height as him, his trembling body filled with fear, and even his voice was trembling.

    "Who¡­ who are you?"

    He asked, hoping to stall for time, or to find a way to escape, or to appeal to the man''s conscience, if he had any.

    "Lucius Malfoy''s son!"

    Peter pointed his wand at Draco''s eyes, hisrge yellow teeth grinding against each other, making a creaking sound.

    He recognized the boy''s features, the blond hair, the pale skin, the arrogant nose.

    "What kind of revenge should I take to make up for the humiliation I suffered!"

    Peter hissed, his eyes gleaming with malice and cruelty.

    "You can''t kill me¨C"

    Draco interrupted, trying to reason with the man, trying to save his own life. Because of fear, tears uncontrobly flowed from Malfoy''s eyes. With his quick thinking, he had already figured it out. The man in front of him was an Animagus, a knowledge that Professor McGonagall had just taught them recently.

    "Dumbledore. The headmaster and Professor Watson are both in the school. If you kill us, you won''t be able to escape."

    He said, trying to sound confident and calm, but his voice betrayed his panic and desperation.

    "Haha, clever little slickhead, no wonder you''re Lucius''s son!"

    Peter said with a wheezing breath, a moment of hesitation shed in his small green eyes.

    Indeed, this was what he feared. Otherwise, these three annoying little brats would have be cold corpses.

    "So, what should I do, young Malfoy?"

    After a brief moment of thought, Peter hade up with an idea, but he still had that grinning face facing Malfoy.

    "Since you have seen through my true identity, you should know that I can''t let you go!"

    He said, tightening his grip on Malfoy''s neck, making him gasp for air.

    At that moment, Draco cursed Ron Weasley''s ancestors for eighteen generations in his mind, wishing them all kinds of misfortune and suffering.

    That stupid, ignorant guy actually kept such a dangerous man as a pet by his side, and he still hadn''t noticed anything suspicious. And he himself was just unlucky enough to stumble upon the man''s true form, revealing his sinister secret.

    Draco didn''t know why this man turned into a rat and infiltrated Hogwarts, but he could imagine that he must be plotting some unspeakable conspiracy. In this situation, if Malfoy himself were this man, he would most likely not spare himself, Crabbe, and Goyle, who had witnessed his transformation.

    What should he do?

    Despair filled Draco''s heart like a cold and heavy stone. Was he really going to die here today, in this filthy ce, at the hands of this monstrous and ruthless man?

    At this critical moment, Draco''s brain was spinning faster than ever before, like a frantic hamster on a wheel. He desperately thought of a way to save his life, grasping at any straw that could help him. Suddenly, a bit of information in the words of this unnamed dangerous man gave Draco a glimmer of hope, like a faint star in the dark night sky.

    "You know who my father is, sir¨C"

    His throat was choked by the man''s palm, and Draco struggled to breathe, feeling his lungs burn and his vision blur. But he didn''t dare to resist too much because the man was pointing his own wand at him, ready to unleash a fatal curse at any moment!

    Peter was momentarily stunned by his words. He tilted his head and looked at Draco, his small eyes filled with ill intentions, like a snake eyeing its prey.

    "I do know your father. But so what? Are you nning to use your father''s name to order me to spare you?"

    "I think you might be a friend of my father, sir¨C"

    Struggling to breathe, Draco''s eyes were filled with hope and pleading as he stared at the ugly man, who had a rat-like face and a missing finger. He blurted out each word, hoping to persuade him.

    "I think you might be a friend of my father. I boldly guess that you-you staying by Weasley''s side must be to teach that idiot a lesson."

    Draco''s thoughts became clearer as he spoke, trying to appeal to the man''s hatred.

    "That blood-traitor family must have done something to anger you, right? If you want to deal with them, I can offer you some insignificant help, sir. My father has always despised that kind of low-ss family. If you¡­ if you are willing to join forces with my father, I bet even with Dumbledore protecting the Weasleys, we can drive this group of embarrassing people out of the Magical Britain!"

    To be honest, Draco''s performance surprised Peter.

    Since Ron entered Hogwarts, he had been staying by Ron''s side, pretending to be his faithful pet. In less than three years, he had witnessed countless times Draco Malfoy causing trouble for the Golden trio, mocking, insulting, them. Privately, he had also heard Ron curse Draco Malfoy, calling him a slimy git, a ferret, and a coward.

    He understood this boy, a typical Slytherin from a pure blood family, a proud and arrogant yet sensitive and fragile person, who cared about his status and reputation more than anything.

    But the words Draco Malfoy just said made Peter realize that this little boy indeed had some cleverness, and some courage.

    "Um¨C"

    Peter hesitated for a moment, and the strength in his hand slowly dissipated, loosening his grip on Malfoy''s neck.

    "Smart kid, I do have some grudges with the Weasley family. But they are staunch supporters of Dumbledore, so even though I have had countless opportunities to take their lives over the years, I am worried¨C"

    Upon hearing this, Draco broke out in a cold sweat on his back, and his understanding of the danger this man posed deepened, making his heart sink even lower!

    He thought the man just wanted to teach the Weasley family a lesson, maybe scare them a bit, or hurt them a little. But he didn''t expect that he actually nned to kill the entire Weasley family. His father had never nned to exterminate the Weasley family.

    Because no matter what, the Weasley family was still one of the twenty-eight pure-blood families with a long history, and they had intricate connections with many prominent families and influential politicians in the wizarding world. Killing them would undoubtedly directly offend half of the British wizarding world, and even the Malfoy family couldn''t bear the bacsh at that level.

    "My father can help you¨C"

    Malfoy''s face turned ugly, even though he cursed Peter as a madman in his mind, he still maintained a respectful and humble demeanor, hoping to appease him.

    "You probably know that my father is capable of dealing with Dumbledore. Earlierst year, he briefly drove Dumbledore out of Hogwarts. I can convince my father to help, as long as Dumbledore loses his power."

    Draco''s words made Peter hesitate even more. His face showed obvious difficulty, as if he was struggling with a dilemma in his mind whether or not to spare Draco.

    Seeing this, Draco worked even harder to praise his father''s abilities, as if Lucius could send Dumbledore to Azkaban at any time, if he wished. He exaggerated his father''s influence and power, hoping to impress Peter and make him think that he was worth keeping alive.

    "Alright, kid, you''ve convinced me¨C"

    Malfoy''s mouth was almost trembling and his neck was sore, as he had used up all his eloquence and cunning to persuade Peter. Draco felt a surge of relief and gratitude when Peter finally reluctantly nodded.

    Peter stared at Malfoy, who had a look of ecstatic joy, and said in a sinister tone,

    "You must keep my identity a secret, understand, kid? Otherwise, even if you''re Lucius''s son, I won''t spare you."

    With a snap, Peter let go of his hand, and Draco fell to the ground, gasping for air.

    At the same time, Crabbe and Goyle, who were lying on the ground, slowly opened their eyes. They sat on the ground, dazed, staring at the sweaty Draco and the unfamiliar man holding Draco''s wand, not knowing how to react. They had no idea what had happened, or why Draco was talking to this man so respectfully.

    Suddenly, Malfoy, like a monkey, jumped up from the ground. He took a few cautious steps back, trembling, and asked,

    "Sir, I will go back to the dormitory and write a letter to my father, asking him to start nning to deal with Dumbledore¨C"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0254 Misfortune

    0254 Misfortune

    <em>At the same time, Crabbe and Goyle, who were lying on the ground, slowly opened their eyes. They sat on the ground, dazed, staring at the sweaty Draco and the unfamiliar man holding Draco''s wand, not knowing how to react. They had no idea what had happened, or why Draco was talking to this man so respectfully.</em>

    <em>Suddenly, Malfoy, like a monkey, jumped up from the ground. He took a few cautious steps back, trembling, and asked,</em>

    <em>"Sir, I will go back to the dormitory and write a letter to my father, asking him to start nning to deal with Dumbledore¨C"</em>

    <strong><<NEW CHAPTER STARTS>></strong>

    <strong>"Draco, what exactly¨C"</strong>

    Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, confused and curious. They wanted to ask Draco what was going on, and who this man was.

    "Both of you, shut your mouths!"

    Draco''s face turned pale, and his sweat soaked his inner clothes. He was afraid that these two idiots would waste the opportunity to escape he had fought for with all his wisdom. He knew that this madman was not someone they could afford to offend, and that he might change his mind at any moment. So, he spoke in an unprecedented stern tone, silencing his cronies.

    "So, can we leave now, sir?"

    Draco struggled to control his voice, so as not to reveal his true thoughts. This damn man dared to choke him, threaten him, and use his wand against him. Draco swore that he would make him pay for it, one way or another. He hated him with every fiber of his being, and he wanted nothing more than to get away from him as soon as possible.

    "You can go¨C"

    Draco thought he had concealed his hatred well, but in the eyes of the master of disguise, Peter, Malfoy''s performance was simply childish and ridiculous.

    <em>''How could that cunning Lucius give birth to such a foolish boy, who couldn''t hide his emotions at all?''</em> Peter sneered inwardly, but he didn''t show it on his face.

    Peter nodded, and a sly and malicious light appeared in his small green eyes. He looked at Malfoy and hispanions, who were eager to leave, and said in a low and menacing voice,

    "But remember your promise, young Malfoy. You must tell your father and make him take action as soon as possible¨C"

    As soon as they stepped out of the owlery, the wet and cold air rushing towards them made Draco shiver involuntarily. The joy of escaping death made tears well up in his eyes again, but he quickly wiped them away.

    "I will remember your instructions!"

    After saying this with bated breath, Draco hurriedly walked away. He didn''t dare to look back, afraid of what he might see. If he wasn''t afraid of being seen through, he would have run away, as fast as his legs could carry him.

    At that moment, the gloomy sky suddenly shed with a terrifying lightning, illuminating the dark and stormy night.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    Amidst the thunderous roar, a milky white halo rippled out like water waves. It was the sign of a powerful spell being cast, and it was aimed at Malfoy and the others. When the ripples swept over them, their bodies suddenly stiffened in the distance, as if they had been frozen by ice.

    <em>"Imperio!"</em>

    The sudden incantation in his ears filled Malfoy''s heart with immense despair. He realized toote that he had been tricked, that this man had never intended to let them go. But this despair was quickly engulfed by the darkness that followed. When the incantationnded, three young wizards on the top floor of the Astronomy Tower had turned into soulless puppets.

    <strong><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<*Scene-Break*>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>></strong>

    Perhaps the previous exchange had exhausted all of Sirius''s energy and spirit. When he returned to the office, he remained silent and unwilling to speak. Bound, hey quietly on Watson''s camp bed, staring at the ceiling with a nk expression.

    Remus also showed a simr demeanor. He sat on the sofa opposite, maintaining the same silence.

    Time flew by silently, and in the blink of an eye, night fell, and the faint starlight was about to emerge in the pitch-ck darkness. The office was dimly lit by a few candles, creating a gloomy and depressing atmosphere.

    Finally, at one o''clock in the morning, a tapping sound broke the silence in the office. It was the sound of a bird pecking at the window, trying to get their attention.

    Both Sirius, lying on the bed, and Remus, dozing off on the office desk, were awakened at the same time.

    Their gazes turned to the window simultaneously, as if they had sensed the arrival of the owl.

    "It''s Bryan''s reply¨C"

    Remus stood up with a swish, his heart pounding in his chest. He nced at Sirius, who looked equally anxious. He nervously swallowed his saliva, feeling a dryness in his throat.

    The entire office was magically sealed, preventing any unauthorized entry or exit. But Remus knew how to open the seal, thanks to the spell taught by Bryan. He waved his wand and muttered a few words, and the seal was lifted. He opened the window and let the owl with frost-covered wings enter. The owl looked exhausted and cold, as if it had flown through a storm.

    "Thank you, little guy¨C"

    Remus took the note from the owl''s w and patted its head gently. He offered it some water and food, but the owl refused. It seemed to be in a hurry to deliver more messages.

    "Quick, Remus, see what Watson said!" Sirius shook his head, annoyed. "My arm is already numb!"

    Sirius had been in same position in bed unconscious for most of the day, unable to move. He felt a tingling sensation in his limbs, as if they were asleep.

    Remus smiled helplessly. Sirius seemed to be fearless, even in the face of death.

    Bryan''s reply was very concise, with only a single sentence. As soon as Remus read it, his face froze, and then he helplessly smiled.

    <strong>Ssh¨C</strong>

    Finally free after being bound for most of the day, Sirius struggled to sit up, but after trying for a long time, he couldn''t seed. He was too weak and sore to lift himself up. He could only continue lying on the camp bed, panting heavily, and asked, with a hint of impatience and curiosity,

    "Did Watson confirm my innocence?"

    "No¨C"

    Surprisingly, Remus shook his head and said, with a wry and incredulous smile,

    "Bryan only replied with one sentence¨C No time!''"

    <strong><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<*Scenebreak*>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>></strong>

    <em>''Remus, what did he encounter?''</em>

    When Lupin left the Owlery and disappeared at the other end of the narrow corridor, Scabbers remained on Malfoy''s shoulder, gazing outside the door with a curious and anxious expression. His small ck eyes revealed his deep contemtion.

    He knew his former good friend well. To put it nicely, Remus was cautious and prudent, but to put it bluntly, he was overly conservative and timid.

    Today was Christmas, a day for family reunions and joyful celebrations. If it wasn''t something extremely important and urgent, Remus wouldn''t have hurriedly written a letter to Bryan Watson on this important holiday, ignoring the festive mood and the delicious food.

    Crabbe held a roastedmb chop in his hand and raised it to Malfoy''s shoulder. Scabbers leaped onto Crabbe''s swollen palm, nibbling on themb chop while pondering this question. The meat was tender and juicy, but Peter barely tasted it. His mind was upied by other matters.

    Based on his past habits, Peter didn''t want to meddle in this dangerous moment where one wrong step could lead to a downfall. He preferred to stay low and hide in the shadows, waiting for the storm to pass. But he couldn''t pretend not to care about this issue because what else could make Remus lose hisposure at Hogwarts?

    It could only be rted to Sirius ck!

    <em>''Could it be that Remus had already made contact with ck andpleted the "intelligence exchange" and reconciled? or they discovered my true identity and were plotting to expose me?"</em>

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    Scabbers''s heart suddenly raced. Lost in thought, he bit down on a hardmb bone and nearly knocked out his front teeth. He let out a muffled squeak of pain and spat out the bone.

    Inside the smelly Owlery, a series of painful "hooting" sounds could be heard. The owls were disturbed by Scabbers''s sudden movement and noise. They pped their wings and red at him with their round eyes.

    But something was not right.

    After a while, Peter calmed down and fell into contemtion again. He realized that his fears were unfounded. If Remus really knew that it was he who betrayed James and Lily''s whereabouts all those years ago, then the first person he would notify should be Albus Dumbledore. There was no doubt about that. Peter knew what Dumbledore meant to Remus.

    But no matter what, something important must have happened at the school, and he knew nothing about it.

    <em>''This won''t do!''</em>

    Scabbers rubbed his swollen gums with his paw, missing a finger. This thought came to his mind.

    Since he had already left the Weasley boy''s side and was still lurking at the school, he could have erased the memories of those three unlucky Slytherin boys. But he chose to risk being discovered by Dumbledore and Watson.

    Peter''s purpose in doing so was not just for the convenience of stealing food. He had to ensure that he had firsthand information. Having lived through the cruel war years, he understood the importance of intelligence. He needed to know what was happening in the wizarding world, especially anything rted to ck.

    Dumbledore still hadn''t returned, and Remus''s act of writing a letter also indicated that Bryan Watson was not at the school either. In this situation, the danger of going out seemed not so high. He could sneak out of the castle and explore the grounds. He could find out what Remus was up to.

    Swallowing the charredmb meat in his mouth, Scabbers gazed at the peaceful white world through the window hole for a long time before finally making up his mind.

    In the decorated and festive Great Hall, the dining tables that were used during meals had all been moved to the walls, and a table that could amodate more than ten people was ced in the center of the hall. The table was covered with a red cloth and adorned with candles, holly, and mistletoe. The ceiling was enchanted to look like a clear night sky, with stars twinkling and snowkes falling.

    When Harry and his friends returned to the hall after returning the conspicuous Firebolt to their dormitory, most of the seats had already been filled by the students who remained at the school. There were only a few dozen of them, mostly from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. They were chatting andughing, enjoying the food and drinks that magically appeared on the table.

    "Come on, Potter!"

    Professor McGonagall stood up and waved at the three of them, her tone much gentler than usual. She was wearing a tartan dress and a matching hat, and she had a smile on her face. She seemed to be in a good mood, despite the absence of Dumbledore and Watson.

    "Before Dumbledore left, he specifically instructed me to create a festive atmosphere for the children who are still at the school!"

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat side by side at the end of the table, but it was clear that the atmosphere between the three of them was not particrly harmonious. They had just had another argument in themon room, and the topic of the argument was undoubtedly the firebolt that had fallen from the sky.

    Hermione believed that since Professor Lupin had given instructions, Harry should follow his orders and have the broomstick checked by Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick before Professor Watson returned to the school. She thought that the firebolt could be a trap or a curse, and that Harry should not risk his life for a mere toy.

    But Ron, who sometimes had a clever mind, immediately retorted, "It''s just a suggestion, Hermione. Can''t you see that Professor Lupin didn''t make it mandatory for Harry to do so? We can just keep the Firebolt with us and have it checked by him when Professor Watson returns. We can simply not use it until then!"

    "You''re just trying to exploit the loophole in his words, Ron!"

    Hermione''s cheeks turned pink, and she said angrily. She was clearly annoyed by Ron''sck of caution andmon sense.

    The pros and cons of the two choices were obvious.

    Harry didn''t think much and made a choice that suited his own preferences¡ª Just kidding, it was the Firebolt, a perfect streamlined broomstick that ordinary wizards could never touch in their lifetime. It was a dreame true for any Quidditch yer, a masterpiece of craftsmanship and magic. Even if there was something fishy about it, Harry was willing to keep it for a few more days.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    <strong>Author''s Note: To avoid confusion, I have included thest paragraphs of the previous chapter at the beginning of this chapter. This will help you guys follow the conversations and other events better.</strong>

 0255 Abnormality&Trust

    0255 Abnormality&Trust

    <strong>*Great-Hall*</strong>

    "Well¡ª"

    Professor McGonagall smiled and looked at the three Gryffindor wizards sitting down. She noticed the tension between them, but she decided not to interfere. After scanning the room, she found that all the young wizards were waiting for her speech.

    "I don''t have much to say, everyone. Oh, except for one thing, let''s eat quickly!"

    She pped her hands and said cheerfully.

    The sound of clinking cutlery immediately filled the Great Hall. Harry leaned forward and took a roasted potato. He was hungry after the long day, and the food smelled delicious.

    <em>Tap-Tap-Tap</em>

    Suddenly, everyone''s attention was drawn to the footstepsing from the entrance hall.

    It was Malfoy¡ª

    He seemed to have been running for a while, his hair was wet, and sweat dripped from his pale cheeks. He looked out of breath and nervous.

    Harry and Ron exchanged a subtle nce, feeling something was off. They wondered what Malfoy was doing at this time, and why he was so flustered. But the next moment, Snape voiced their confusion.

    "Why is it just you, Draco?"

    Professor Snape stared at Malfoy with a suspicious look.

    "Where are Crabbe and Goyle?"

    "They''re full, so they didn''te, Professor¡ª" Malfoy answered in a dry voice.

    "Pffft"

    Ron burst intoughter. He couldn''t help it.

    Crabbe and Goyle were full? That was unheard of at Hogwarts. They were notorious for their huge appetites and theirck of manners. They would never miss a chance to stuff their faces with food, especially on a special asion like Christmas.

    Harry immediately nudged Ron with his elbow because the old bat Snape was still staring at Ron with a cold gaze. He didn''t want Ron to get into trouble forughing at Malfoy, even though he agreed with him. He also wanted to avoid Snape''s attention, which was never a good thing.

    Even Ron could tell that it was aplete lie, and Snape should be able to see through it. Snape raised his chin and squinted his eyes, his dark eyes hiding imperceptible concern and frustration.

    "What about Professor Lupin? As far as I know, he should still be at the school. Why isn''t he here?"

    The ripple caused by the earlier joke had just subsided, and Malfoy''s random question once again disrupted the rhythm of the group''s Christmas feast.

    It was a strange question,ing from him.

    Too strange!

    Harry and Ron immediately turned their gaze to Malfoy, and even Hermione, who was hesitating whether to talk with Professor McGonagall privately, blinked and looked at Malfoy.

    <em>''Draco actually cared if Lupin came to dinner?!''</em>

    "I''m surprised, Draco," Snape looked at Malfoy suspiciously, "I always thought you didn''t like him."

    "Well¡ª"

    Malfoy seemed to realize the abruptness of his question. He pursed his lips and quickly said, "I just sent a letter to my father from the Owlery, and Professor Lupin also came to send a letter¡ª"

    Snape wanted to ask more, but Professor McGonagall interrupted him, displeased.

    "This is the ce for a Christmas dinner, Severus, not the Ministry of Magic''s courtroom."

    With that, Professor McGonagall looked at Malfoy again, her gaze filled with satisfaction.

    "Perhaps it''s because he''s sick again. Professor Lupin greeted me earlier and said he didn''t have much appetite. But if he knew about your concern, Mr. Malfoy, he would definitely not minding down to sit¡ª"

    Apart from the initialmotion, Malfoy behaved normally during the two-hour Christmas feast. He ate and drank quietly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He didn''t say a word, except for a few polite responses to Snape''s asional inquiries.

    This made Harry lose interest in him and instead quietly discussed the information Malfoy had just revealed with Ron and Hermione at the dinner table. They whispered to each other, trying not to attract attention from the teachers or the other students.

    "What do you think¡ª"

    Chewing on the tender and juicy steak, Harry, using the candlestick to block the professor''s view, asked in a low voice.

    "Malfoy said he met Lupin while sending a letter. Could it be that Lupin was inquiring about the Firebolt I have?"

    Hermione, who was sipping pumpkin soup, rolled her eyes in silence. She was annoyed by Harry''s obsession with the Firebolt, which she considered a dangerous and suspicious object.

    "In my opinion, Professor Lupin''s concern for that ''parchment'' is higher than that mysterious Firebolt!"

    After a hearty lunch in the Great Hall, several professors exchanged warm wishes as they prepared to leave the school for the uing holiday. They had no intention of staying at the gloomy and deserted Hogwarts, where only a handful of students remained.

    The young wizards who had chosen to stay also dispersed quickly, eager to enjoy their free time in any way they could. Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves standing alone in the entrance hall, debating how to spend their afternoon. Even Hermione, who usually buried herself in books, had no desire to waste her Christmas day in the empty library or the silentmon room.

    Harry''s eyes wandered to the window, where he could see the snow-covered yground. He longed to fly his Firebolt, the best broomstick in the world, and feel the wind in his hair and the thrill in his chest. But he knew better than to mention it in front of Hermione, who was still upset about the whole affair. Ron''s suggestion of visiting Hagrid''s hut was also met with a cold refusal.

    They had made a promise to help Buckbeak, the hippogriff that was facing a trial for attacking Draco Malfoy. But so far, they had only managed to find a few case files that might be useful for his defense. Most of them were hopeless, and some were downright depressing. Harry did not want to face Hagrid''s eager questions when they had nothing to show for their efforts.

    In the end, the three of them decided to take a stroll on thewn, hoping to digest the delicious food they had stuffed in their stomachs.

    The recent spell of extreme cold had turned theyer of snow covering the ground into fine powder. A gust of wind blew, and all the snow on the surface flew up into the sky, creating a blinding white swirl. It was as if a sandstorm had swept through the vast campus, obscuring everything in sight.

    Harry wrapped his scarf tightly around his neck, feeling the cold bite his skin. He decided to bring up the topic that they had avoided discussing in depth at the dining table, for fear of being overheard.

    "You said Professor Lupin would be more concerned about that piece of parchment, Hermione?" he asked, referring to the Marauder''s Map, a magical map that showed the location of everyone in Hogwarts.

    "Isn''t it obvious, Harry?" Hermione replied, rubbing her red face, frozen from the cold. She turned her head to look at the tower where Professor Watson''s office was located.

    "Think about Professor Lupin''s reaction when he heard from Filch that Professor Watson was looking for that map of yours, Harry. He seemed very surprised, even more so than when he saw you holding the Firebolt." Hermione said, recalling the scene that had happened earlier that day.

    "I thought¨C" Ron began, sounding confused.

    "He was wondering why Professor Watson wanted a old piece of parchment?" he guessed, shrugging his shoulders.

    It was definitely not as simple as Ron said. Even Harry dared note to such a conclusion.

    In fact, on the night when they had sneaked into Hogsmeade and were caught by Professor Watson, Harry had thought that Lupin might be rted to the Marauder''s Map. He had recognized the map as soon as he heard clues rted to it. But because of Ron''s quick thinking and perfect lie at the time, Lupin had let them go without further questioning.

    Later, Fred and George, the Weasley twins, identally overheard that Professor Watson was looking for the Marauder''s Map. Harry had also discussed with Ron and Hermione why Professor Watson knew about the map''s existence. The only logical exnation they coulde up with was that Lupin might be the creator of the map.

    This exnation sounded incredible, because Lupin seemed to have nothing to do with breaking school rules or ying pranks. He was a serious and strict teacher, who always looked tired and ill. He was nothing like the mischievous and daring personalities that the map''s makers had disyed.

    But if that was the case, then the answer to how Professor Watson knew about the Marauder''s Map was very obvious ¡ªProfessor Lupin had told him.

    But today''s events had overturned the previous exnation. It seemed that there was nomunication between Professor Lupin and Professor Watson regarding the Marauder''s Map. Moreover, Lupin even believed that Professor Watson probably didn''t know about it at all¨Cbased on his behavior.

    This was indeed a puzzling question that even Hermione, couldn''t figure out the connection.

    Between the two professors, Lupin undoubtedly seemed more like the creator of the Marauder''s Map. But if it wasn''t him who had told Professor Watson, then who could it be?

    Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs¨Cthese were the nicknames of the four makers of the map, as written on the parchment. If Lupin was one of these four, theoretically, even if it wasn''t Professor Lupin, it could be one of the other three who had revealed the information to Professor Watson. But the other three were obviously not at Hogwarts now, otherwise Professor Lupin would have recognized them.

    They couldn''t discover the truth just by guessing. After discussing for a while, Harry and the others gave up on delving deeper. They decided to enjoy their walk and forget about the mystery for now.

    In the following time, bathed in pale sunlight, the three of them yed in the snow. To make it more fun, they used their wands to mold the powdery snow into balls and threw them at each other. The game started harmoniously, but as Hermione added some "special magic" to the snowballs, such as the Bewitched Snowballs Charm, the situation quickly became one-sided.

    Harry and Ron teamed up against Hermione, but they were no match for her cleverness and skill. They were bombarded by the powerful ice balls that flew towards them from all directions, and they ran around in pain, trying to dodge or block them.

    The cries of the two young wizards and Hermione''sughter echoed in the yard, carried by the cold wind.

    "Anyway,"

    After more than an hour, the exhausted three of them supported each other back to the castle. They stood in the entrance hall, brushing off the snow from their bodies and boots. Hermione, in a much better mood, patted the ice particles in her fluffy hair and said solemnly,

    "I hope you can stay vignt, Harry. Whether it''s the Firebolt or the Marauder''s Map, I hope you will voluntarily hand them over. The professors will help you confirm if they are safe."

    She was still worried about the possibility that someone had cursed the broomstick or the map, and that they might harm Harry in some way.

    "No way, Harry!"

    Taking advantage of the rxed atmosphere, Ron made a funny face at Hermione.

    "Maybe the professors will return the Firebolt to Harry, but do you expect them to return the Marauder''s Map too? That map isn''t dangerous. Fred and George have used it for years, and they have already confirmed it for Harry¨C"

    He argued, trying to convince Hermione that the map was harmless and useful.

    "If I hand over the map, Hermione¨C"

    Harry also said jokingly,

    "I can''t expect Fred and George to be my Beaters in the Quidditch match anymore. They might just hit the Bludger at me directly because that map is their most precious thing!"

    He knew how much the twins valued the map, and how they had entrusted it to him as a gift. He didn''t want to betray their trust, or lose such a valuable thing.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0256 Return

    0256 Return

    A rush of footsteps from the second floor was very conspicuous in the empty castle. Harry and the others heard it. It was Filch''s footsteps. The caretaker was notorious for his hatred of students and his obsession with cleanliness. Seeing the muddy mess on the clean marble floor, the three of them shrank their necks and quickly slipped away through the other staircase.

    They knew they would be in trouble if Filch caught them, and they didn''t want to ruin their good mood.

    "Dirty things, making a mess of the castle again. Who did it in the end!"

    As expected, a minuteter, Filch, now back in his usual brown jacket, appeared with Mrs. Norris, his cat and aplice. As soon as he saw the stains on the floor, he flew into a rage.

    "Smell it, dear. We have to find the little troublemakers who did this!"

    The skinny gray cat jumped off his shoulder as soon as it received themand and quickly darted towards the entrance to the basement stairs. Filch followed closely behind, muttering curses under his breath. Just then, a student hiding behind a tapestry walked out under the supervision of Mrs. Norris.

    "Ah, it''s you!"

    Filch''s nose was covered in snot bubbles, and he red at Malfoy fiercely.

    "Making a mess of the castle on Christmas day, no doubt about it. Come with me, Malfoy!"

    He grabbed Malfoy''s sleeve and dragged him along, ignoring his protests.

    "It wasn''t me¨C"

    Malfoy lowered his head and said in a dull voice, "It was Potter, Weasley, and Granger. You can see their footprints entering the castle from outside, Filch."

    Filch looked skeptical, but Malfoy added,

    "They just returned to themon room. If you hurry over now, maybe they haven''t had time to clean the marks off their boots."

    "Alright, Mr. Malfoy,e with me!"

    Hearing Malfoy''s words, Filch had no more doubts. He let go of Malfoy''s sleeve and rushed up to the Gryffindor Tower, leaving his cat behind. He was determined to catch Harry and his friends red-handed, and punish them severely.

    The Fat Lady''s portrait opened, and as Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were sitting by the firece ying wizard chess, were shocked by Filch and Malfoy''s appearance, a rat crawled out of Malfoy''s trouser leg, quickly ran into the sofa bottom that was spread, and sneaked up the boy''s dormitory.

    <strong>******************SCENE-BREAK******************</strong>

    Bryan returned to Hogwarts three days before the end of the Christmas break, when the young wizards who had gone home for the holidays were still not back, but the heads of the four houses had already returned to school to deal with the next term''s affairs.

    He did not disturb anyone, but went straight to his office, intending to see how the two enemies were getting along.

    To his surprise, the spotlessly clean office was empty, except for the firece that automatically lit up when it sensed the room''s owner had returned. The warm and cozy fire cast a soft glow on the wooden furniture and the bookshelves that lined the walls. Bryan could see that someone had tidied up his papers and books, and even watered his nts.

    After putting his suitcase on the sofa, Bryan turned his head and saw a note on the desk, which looked like it was left by one of them.

    <em>Bryan,</em>

    <em>Tom and I discussed it, that it''s useless to blindly search for that rat without any clues, so we decided to stay at Tom''s old house for two days. I heard from Tom that you have the right to use that house, and that you nned to clean it up during the Christmas break. I think Tom and I can help you with that.</em>

    <em>If you return back to school, you cane to the old house and find us. We can have a party together to celebrate Tom''s freedom.</em>

    <em>Yours sincerely</em>

    <em>Remus Lupin</em>

    The handwriting on the note was not exactly the same as Remus''s usual writing, and there was a lightness between the lines. It was obvious that Remus was in a very good mood when he wrote this letter.

    "What do you mean ''I have the right to use that house''?" Bryan snorted, "I hope these two guys don''t forget that the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic are still outside."

    Bryan threw Remus''s note into the firece, and a smell of burnt hair filled the air. As he watched the paper turn into ashes, Bryan muttered to himself, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

    As he said, the Ministry was still watching that ce, and these two guys shouldn''t get too carried away.

    "Well¨C"

    Through the monitor screen, Bryan nced at the deserted Hogwarts castle, and after a brief thought, he picked up the coat he had thrown on the bed and walked out of the office quickly.

    The sky was getting dark, and the chimney on the roof of Hagrid''s hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest was emitting a faint smoke. Bryan had sharp eyes, and through the window, he could vaguely see the dimly lit interior, where several different figures shed by. He guessed that it was Harry and his friends who were visiting there.

    At this time, if he waited for the train to go back to London, he would probably arrive at Grimmauld ce at least by midnight, and the Knight Bus was a mode of transportation that he absolutely did not want to face. He had no choice but to choose apparition, which was very exhausting as it consumed a lot of his magic, but at least it''s fast.

    The world was blurred in front of his eyes, and the sound of the howling wind filled his ears. In an instant, Bryan crossed the mountains and rivers and the ancient defensive spells that guarded the old Manor, andnded steadily in the narrow and shabby hallway of the entrance hall.

    When he saw the condition of the house, Bryan raised his eyebrows and felt a bit surprised.

    It was a big changepared to thest time.

    Every inch of the dusty floor seemed to have been wiped with a stain remover, and under the new branch-shaped chandelier on the ceiling, it reflected a gem-like light. The walls on both sides had been renovated, and the dark green walls had been torn down and reced with a more pleasing sky blue. The house looked brighter and more spacious than before, and it had lost some of its gloomy and oppressive atmosphere.

    But he didn''t know if it was intentional, the portraits of the ck family''s ancestors on the walls had not been touched, and they were still ckened by the years.

    Thest time he came, the olddy who had yelled at him had been covered by a starched curtain, but she had not been taken down.

    Bryan smacked his lips, and when the ownership of the house was officially transferred, he would not keep these frames that could go crazy at any time.

    There was a nging noise from the basement, as if someone was cooking. Bryan stepped forward and opened the door leading to the basement. He was greeted by a wave of heat and steam, and a smell of burnt potatoes and herbs. He wrinkled his nose and frowned, wondering who was responsible for this culinary disaster.

    "Ah, Bryan, it''s you¨C"

    Remus, who was facing the chopping board with a bitter face, clumsily dealing with the potatoes, turned around when he heard the noise, and when he saw who it was, a smile appeared on his face, which had regained some vitality. His amber eyes sparkled with joy, and his fatigue seemed less noticeable.

    "When did you return back to Hogwarts, did you see the note I left?"

    Bryan nodded nomittally, he walked down the stairs, his eyes wandering around the kitchen and the small dining room, and after a moment, he nodded with satisfaction. He could see that Remus and Sirius had done a good job of cleaning and decorating the ce.

    The kitchen was equipped with modern appliances and utensils, and the dining room had arge wooden table and chairs, covered with a white tablecloth and a vase of fresh flowers. The walls were painted with a warm yellow color, and the windows were adorned withce curtains. The whole atmosphere was cozy and inviting.

    "Who allowed you to appear in my house, Professor Lupin?"

    Remus immediately gave a wry smile,pared to most Slytherins, Bryan was easy to get along with, but that didn''t stop Bryan from retaining some of the standard traits of Slytherins.

    "Speaking of which, why did the cooking task fall on you, Remus, did Sirius secretly fire my house-elf while I was away?"

    He nced at the uneven potato slices on the chopping board, and Bryan sneered. He could tell that Remus was not a skilled cook, and he wondered how he had survived all these years on his own.

    "It''s a long story, Bryan¨C"

    Remus threw away the knife in his hand, and shook off the juice that stained his hand. He wiped his hands on a towel, and gestured for Bryan to sit down at the table. He poured him a ss of water, and then began to exin.

    "When we first moved in, it was indeed that house-elf called Kreacher who cooked for us, but you know, he''s not likely to be very friendly to me, a werewolf.

    In fact, ''not very friendly'' is a bit of an understatement. To drive me out of this house, he tried to poison me several times through my meals. Honestly, if I hadn''t spent some years in the underworld, and had some awareness of these kinds of poisons, I might have really been done in by him."

    <em>''Hehe, interesting¨C''</em>

    Bryanughed.

    Remus continued, "Later, Sirius got furious, and ordered him not to do that. Kreacher couldn''t defy Sirius''s order, but he didn''t want to give in. My meals gradually had a lot of interesting things, such as dead mice in the mushroom soup, spider legs and frog guts in the sd, and foxglove in the roasted chicken."

    Bryan grimaced, and felt a surge of nausea.

    "Remus, who are you talking to?"

    Just as Bryan was listening with interest to the unfair treatment that Remus had suffered, Sirius''s voice came from upstairs, followed by a rush of footsteps. A momentter, Sirius also stood at the doorway connecting the entrance hall and the basement. He looked surprised and annoyed to see Bryan, and his expression darkened.

    Although it had been less than ten days, Sirius''s condition had improved a lotpared to before.

    Maybe it was because he had eaten a few decent meals, or maybe it was because he had let go of some knots, anyway, he didn''t look like a skeleton that had crawled out of hell, his gaunt cheeks finally had some flesh, and his hair was washed clean. He had changed the old robe that Bryan had lent him before, and wore a ck and gray robe, and the whole person looked like he had some shadow of twelve years ago.

    "Oh, it''s you, Bryan¨C" Sirius muttered a bit unhappily.

    "I had a feeling that you would expose yourself to Remus when I left Hogwarts,"

    Bryan followed Sirius''s eyes as he came down the stairs, and showed a smile that could be said to be yful, or mocking.

    "But I didn''t expect you to be so outstanding, Sirius, It hasn''t even been twelve hours, and you''ve been exposed?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0257 Reunion

    0257 Reunion

    To be honest, Bryan''s evaluation was a bit harsh, because Sirius''s exposure was an ident. Who would have thought that Filch, the grumpy caretaker who hated students, would be so afraid of punishment that he would ask Remus, to convey that he had not found the Marauder''s Map. This careless act led Remus to discover the clues that pointed to Sirius.

    For a moment, Sirius felt a surge of resentment and wanted to defend himself, but after a brief hesitation, he suppressed the impulse and nodded unexpectedly at Bryan, the Slytherin boy who had helped him sneak into the castle.

    "Anyway, Bryan, I have to thank you." He said sincerely.

    To say such a thing to a Slytherin, for Sirius, it was unimaginable. He had always despised the house of snakes, especially after what Snape had done to them. But the past twelve years of experience, living as a fugitive and a prisoner, and the happy memories of living with Remus again these days, did change his mind a bit,

    "You helped me get into Hogwarts. And your words, they did give me some inspiration."

    Sirius, who had been fuming at Bryan before, looked so different that Bryan didn''t know how to react. Fortunately, Remus, who was smiling at the scene, stepped in,

    "At this moment of celebration, I think we should have a banquet. Oh, I haven''t had a proper Christmas for many years, and this time at Hogwarts, I happened to transform." He said cheerfully.

    Remus was in high spirits, despite the scars on his face and the pain in his bones from his monthly transformation into a werewolf. He pointed at the mess on the kitchen counter and said,

    "We can work together to prepare a feast for ourselves!"

    "Good idea¨C" Sirius immediately cheered up, he jumped down thest step and came to the kitchen counter excitedly,

    "But the problem is, Remus, we don''t seem to be good at turning ingredients into edible food. Oh, well, maybe I can ask Kreacher to help, we''ll just watch him, so he can''t mess around!" He suggested, referring to the old and bitter house-elf who served the ck family.

    "No need to bother that old house-elf¨C" Bryan interrupted, not wanting to deal with Kreacher''sints.

    The candbra on the table emitted a soft light that made the cold-toned kitchen cozy. The wooden cabs were filled with dusty dishes and silverware. The floor was tiled with ck and white squares. Looking at the two middle-aged menughing, Bryan also shook his head and smiled. At this moment, he didn''t want to be too picky.

    Bryan put his coat on the back of the chair, his wand jumped from his rolled-up sleeve to his hand, and with a light wave at the counter, the potatoes in the te washed themselves and started peeling. Then, they lined up neatly and sent themselves to the knife. A sh of cold light, and evenly sliced potato chips flew into a new te.

    The stove lit up with mes that were roasted and smoked every once in a while. A few steaks flew into the iron te, making a sizzling sound. A faint aroma filled the kitchen.

    "This is really surprising, Bryan?" Remus asked, looking at the orderly kitchen with admiration.

    "I didn''t expect you to be good at this?" He continued, wondering how a Young Slytherin boy learned to cook so well.

    "Personal preference¨C" Bryan saidzily, not wanting to exin his reasons.

    "I remember my father''s room had some of his cherished Scotch whisky, I''ll go look for it!" Sirius eximed, suddenly remembering the hidden stash of liquor that his father had kept.

    For Sirius, this was a rare warm scene. He burst out with great enthusiasm, said a quick word, and ran upstairs. He wanted to share the whisky with his friend, and toast to their reunion.

    This was a reunion of old friends that was twelve yearste. The cheerful atmosphere filled the kitchen. Throughout the dinner, no one mentioned anything about Peter, the traitor. Remus and Sirius shared some of their fun stories from school, of course, they always avoided anything rted to Snape.

    And Bryan also told them some of his interesting stories from Hogwarts. In addition, Sirius and Remus were very interested in the Chamber of Secrets that caused a great panic in the castle in thest year, so he also shared some of them with them.

    "As expected of James''s son¨C" Sirius said proudly, when Bryan talked about the night he discovered the location of the Chamber of Secrets, Harry and Ron had broken into the bathroom without any professor''s apaniment to save Ginny.

    Sirius, who was a bit tipsy, immediately praised them enthusiastically. He saw a lot of his best friend James in Harry, and he wished he could meet him. But then, his smile that hadsted all night faded, and he said sadly,

    "If it weren''t for. ... maybe I could invite Harry and his friends to join this party." He sighed.

    "There will be a chance, Sirius¨C" Remus said gently, trying tofort him.

    "I remember you''re Harry''s godfather. When summeres. I believe everything will be over by then, and then you can invite Harry to stay here for a few days. Oh, there''s the Quidditch World Cup in the summer¨C"

    "Good idea, Remus!"

    Sirius smiled brightly, his eyes sparkling with excitement, which almost restored him to the handsome and charming young man he was in his youth,

    "Then we can go together!"

    "Gentlemen, before you look forward to the bright future¨C"

    Bryan, who was a bit tired from the journey, rubbed his brow and stood up, his voice interrupting their happy ns,

    "Can someone help me clean up the kitchen?"

    "It''s okay, Bryan¨C"

    Sirius, who had drunk a lot, boldly put his arm around Bryan''s shoulder and burped, his breath smelling of alcohol,

    "Kreacher can handle this¨C"

    As he said, Sirius shouted at the ceiling, his voice loud and impatient, but unfortunately, after roaring several times, there was still no sign of Kreacher in the kitchen.

    "Oh, what''s going on!"

    Sirius was furious and wanted to go upstairs, but was stopped by Remus, who grabbed his arm and said calmly, "Obviously, he''s pretending not to hear, Sirius¨C"

    "A house-elf dares to defy his master''s orders?"

    Bryan also clicked his tongue and praised in a strange manner, his eyes showing a hint of amusement.

    "Actually, when we first entered the house, he didn''t dare to tantly ignore Sirius''s orders¨C"

    Remus said helplessly, his expression resigned,

    "But then, we started to manage and clean the house. You know, Bryan, for this old house that may have existed for centuries, there''s too much to deal with. Sirius wanted to throw away some useless things in the house, and thatpletely annoyed Kreacher,

    He used all kinds of excuses to ignore Sirius''s orders, not appearing in front of us, and always taking advantage of our inattention, hiding the useless things we cleaned out and the valuable antiques in the house, just to prevent Sirius from throwing them away."

    "I bet¨C"

    Sirius pointed at the cupboard a few steps away and sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm,

    "That''s where Kreacher usually sleeps. There must be a lot of things in there that can show the ''Glory of the Noble ck family'' but are actually Worthless."

    "Oh, that won''t do¨C"

    Bryan frowned, his face serious,

    "Neither you nor Kreacher can secretly collect or throw away the things in this house without my permission¨C"

    Sirius''s face stiffened, and he remembered that the ownership of the house was currently in Bryan''s hands.

    "Those are worthless junk, Bryan," Sirius emphasized unhappily, his voice defensive, "They have no value!"

    "Whether they have value or not, you don''t have the final say, Sirius."

    Bryan hooked his finger at the cupboard, and with a snap, the cupboard door opened, and a pile of weird scraps with a musty smell flew out of it. The first one was a pair of stained pants.

    "That''s my father''s pants, Kreacher must have taken them tomemorate my father¨C"

    Sirius seemed to think that the pants could prove his point, and he said happily, his voice triumphant, "I told you, Bryan, they''re all useless things¨C"

    "That''s not necessarily true, Sirius¨C"

    Bryan squatted down, looking at the pile of debris on the ground with the soft candlelight, he controlled a silver snuffbox to fly in front of him, and examined the inscription on it for a long time, his eyes showing his expertise,

    "This is a Goblin masterpiece, from the eighteenth century, it would worth about three hundred galleons in the underground world. Oh, you dare to say this thing is garbage, I think your mother''s evaluation of you is right to some extent, prodigal son"

    Sirius was speechless, his mouth open in disbelief, but Remus smiled cheerfully and said, his voice teasing,

    "Bryan is an expert in this field, Sirius."

    As he said, Remus, who had also been in the underground world, also became interested, he pointed at a silver tweezer with five ws that was trying to break through everywhere, his eyes showing his curiosity,

    "This is probably what Kreacher hid, this kind of thing looks like a masterpiece of a Wild School of wizards, and it''s also very valuable. Hmm¨CI think it''s worth at least five hundred galleons."

    Sirius''s face turned cker, as Remus''s words almost confirmed that he was a prodigal son, his voice low and bitter.

    Kreacher hid a lot of valuable things, Bryan and Remus were likepeting for knowledge, the two of them squatted down on the floor, and theymented on the precious collections of the ck family with enthusiasm. Sirius, who had grown up with these things, knew their origins and stories, but he couldn''t judge their ''market price'' in the wizarding world.

    "This music box¨C"

    Remus''s dazed eyes regained their alertness, and he carefully picked it up with his fingers, holding it close to his ear, "We''d better be careful, the music it ys should be able to hypnotize people. Well, I''ll give it eight hundred galleons¨C"

    He said, his voice full of admiration for the craftsmanship of the music box.

    "My turn!"

    Bryan picked up a gold chain with interest, on which was a gold pendant box, shining with a faint light, "I can give this one---"

    He said, his voice curious and yful.

    On the candbra on the table, a candle finally reached the end of its life, and the kitchen suddenly dimmed a lot, casting shadows on the walls.

    Bryan stared at the pendant box, gradually, the confusion in his eyes disappeared, and the flush on his face caused by drinking also faded quickly, his light purple eyes became unfathomably deep, as if he saw something beyond the ordinary.

    "I can give this one¡­"

    Mysteriously, Bryan''s mouth curled up, revealing a smile with a touch of wickedness, his voice low and seductive, "Eight thousand."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0258 The Unknown Hero (Part-1)

    0258 The Unknown Hero (Part-1)

    Remus and Sirius didn''t mind Bryan''s silence and hesitation. They thought he was just trying to figure out the origin of the golden Locket that he had found, so they gave him some time to think. But when they heard him say the value of the Locket in a strange tone, as if he had seen something shocking, they both looked incredulous.

    "You can''t just make things up to beat me, Bryan."

    Remus joked, and also looked at the locket with curiosity.

    To be fair, it was indeed a very beautiful piece of art.

    The delicately shaped Locket still emitted a mysterious golden glow in the dim candlelight, even after being eroded by time. It was surrounded by many pure and transparent gems, each one sparkling like a star. The edge of the locket was engraved with many ancient runes, most of which Remus couldn''t recognize. Of course, the most eye-catching thing was the snake-shaped S in the middle of the box, made of glittering green emerald.

    "If this thing is worth eight thousand galleons, Bryan¨C" Sirius also thought Bryan was bluffing, and he said with disbelief, "Then I''ll go break Kreacher''s legs right now."

    <em>''How interesting, to encounter this here?''</em> Bryan''s yful smile became thicker.<em> ''What was this, a special fate?''</em>

    "Let me ask you this," Bryan stood up with his hand on his knee, holding the chain of the Locket tightly, and showed the locket to the bewildered Sirius, "Do you know where this thing came from?"

    <em>''Did Bryan mean that this thing was very dangerous?''</em>

    Remus leaned in, his expression bing more serious. He stared at the <strong>S </strong>on the box for a long time, and then said uncertainly, "I''m not sure, Bryan, is this pattern Slytherin''s crest?"

    "Oh!" Sirius blinked speechlessly, "Are you trying to scare us with some old rubbish?"

    He didn''t believe that his family would own something that belonged to Slytherin, the ancestor of many pure-blood fanatics.

    From Sirius''s reaction, he seemed to really not know where this thing came from. Well, that made sense, Sirius was not like Lucius Malfoy, a ''loyal'' follower of Voldemort.

    "Then let me ask you another question, Sirius." Bryan shook his head and said, "Has anyone in your family ever worked for Voldemort?"

    As soon as the name Voldemort appeared, the kitchen became colder by a few degrees. Remus and Sirius''s expressions turned solemn at once. They realized that Bryan might have identally found something incredible and dangerous.

    "What do you mean, Bryan?" Remus asked solemnly, "Are you saying that this Locket came from Voldemort''s hands? What did you see, is there any dark magic from Voldemort on it?"

    Bryan didn''t answer, he just waited quietly for Sirius''s reply.

    And his question obviously touched Sirius''s bad memories. His face became gloomy and unstable, and he radiated a gloomy aura that made the air heavier.

    "I had a brother, his name was Regulus, he was once a Death Eater."

    This was not something to be proud of. Sirius said this briefly, and then closed his mouth.

    Remus obviously knew about this, he didn''t show any shock, he just turned his gaze to Bryan, waiting for his exnation.

    "Had?"

    Bryan narrowed his eyes, and continued to ask with curiosity and suspicion.

    "He was killed by Voldemort."

    Seeing that Sirius didn''t seem to want to talk about his brother, and also knowing some of the situation, Remus answered this question,

    "It happened before Sirius got into trouble. Sirius told us some things. After Regulus died, he tried to find out why his brother was killed. Can I say it, Sirius?"

    Remus asked.

    "I don''t know why you care about this, Bryan," Sirius stared at the Locket expressionlessly, "But it seems like you are very interested, so I''ll tell you about my na?ve¡­ and stupid brother."

    The three of them sat down at the table that had not been cleaned up. Sirius told Bryan about his brother''s past and some of the information he had investiagated.

    "From various signs, that foolish boy probably got scared of what Voldemort was doing. He wanted to quit, but being a Death Eater was not like working at the Ministry of Magic. You couldn''t just hand in a resignation letter. It was either serve for life or die."

    As Sirius spoke, Bryan pinched the two corners of the Locket with two fingers, and looked at it with admiration. When Sirius finished his story, and waited for his exnation, Bryan said calmly,

    "I think, this matter is not that simple¨C"

    "What do you mean?" Sirius asked impatiently, "What do you know, Bryan, just say it!"

    He was anxious to know the truth about his brother''s death.

    "If the truth is really as you said, that your brother was killed because he wanted to escape from Voldemort¨C"

    Bryan let go of his fingers, and let the Locket fall into his palm. He smiled and said,

    "You wouldn''t be alive today, Sirius. You don''t know the significance of this thing to Voldemort. He would ughter every descendant of the ck family, just to get this thing back."

    The kitchen fell into a long silence. Sirius and Remus both stared at the Locket, especially Remus, who knew Bryan better. He knew that he wouldn''t make a bad joke about something so crucial to Voldemort.

    "Who knows your brother better than you?"

    Remus looked at Sirius and tried tofort him, and also to encourage him to think of anyone who might have more information about Regulus.

    "Someone who knows Regulus better than me, if you count the people who are no longer in this world¨C"

    Sirius frowned heavily.

    This was of course a joke. A bitter and sarcastic joke. They couldn''t dig out any secrets from the dead.

    "Kreacher might know more about Regulus. You know, in Kreacher''s eyes, I''m a good-for-nothing bastard, who only makes the family angry. But Regulus was the pride of my parents, Kreacher also preferred to treat Regulus as the young master¨C"

    "I''ll go get him."

    Anything rted to Voldemort was worth treating with the utmost seriousness. Remus got up immediately, ready to go upstairs.

    "There''s no need for that."

    Bryan said lightly. Under the puzzled eyes of the other two, he closed his eyes and sensed for a few seconds. He felt the presence of Kreacher in the attic, hiding among the piles of junk. Then, he waved his wand a few times, and a gray smoke flickered with electricity gathered in front of the three of them. Bryan suddenly reached out his hand and disappeared into the smoke. After groping for a while, he pulled out the screaming Kreacher from the fog.

    "How did you do that?"

    Sirius was shocked. He had never seen such a spell before.

    "Just a little magic¨C" Bryan threw Kreacher on the ground, "It only works at close range."

    Kreacher jumped up as soon as he fell to the ground, with the agility that didn''t match his old age.

    He was furious and frightened by Bryan''s intrusion. He first saw the mess on the ground, and then, his watery and gray eyes immediately fixed on Sirius, ready to say something. He wanted to scold him for bringing strangers into the house, and for disrespecting the family heirlooms. But halfway through, he saw the Locket in Bryan''s hand.

    In the quiet kitchen, a blood-curdling scream suddenly erupted. Kreacher gasped, his shriveled chest rising and falling rapidly. He recognized the Locket at once. He ignored everything and jumped into the air, rushing towards Bryan.

    "¨CLocket, Master Regulus''s Locket, Kreacher failed toplete the order, but Kreacher won''t let anyone take the Locket away!"

    A faint light shed, and Kreacher was bounced back to the ground by Bryan''s magic. But before anyone could stop him, Kreacher jumped up again, and this time, he didn''t try to attack Bryan, but ran straight to the red-hot furnace, pulled out the fire poker, and started to beat himself.

    The red-hot poker hit the sobbing Kreacher''s body, and his gray skin immediately appeared with shocking ck burns. At the same time, there was also a foul smell of scorching.

    Bryan was unmoved, but he realized that Kreacher probably knew something about the Locket.

    "What are you doing!"

    Remus quickly drew his wand, waved it violently, and snatched the fire poker from Kreacher''s hand. He couldn''t bear to see the house-elf hurt himself so brutally. Sirius, who came to his senses, also roared and rushed forward. He grabbed Kreacher and pressed him on the table.

    "Stop, I order you to stop, don''t hurt yourself anymore!"

    Hemanded him with a stern voice, using his authority as the master of the house.

    Kreacher immediately stiffened, lying straight on the table, staring at the Locket in Bryan''s hand, tears gushing out of his sunken eyes.

    Sirius had seen Kreacher go crazy before, but he had never seen this loyal house-elf go crazy like this. He red at Kreacher, his rough hand still gripping Kreacher''s neck, not because of his offense to them, but because of what Kreacher had just screamed.

    "My brother''s Locket, huh, you know something, don''t you, Kreacher, I order you to tell me everything!"

    He demanded with a furious voice, hoping to get some answers from the only witness of his brother''sst moments.

    "Let him go first, Sirius¨C"

    Remus held Sirius''s wrist, and tried to calm him down. He knew that Sirius was emotional, and that he might hurt Kreacher in his rage. He then said to Kreacher, who sat up,

    "Don''t misunderstand, Kreacher, we don''t want to take away Regulus''s¡­relic, we just want to know how he got this Locket, we think you might know some truth, right?"

    He spoke with a gentle and persuasive tone, hoping to win Kreacher''s trust.

    Kreacher backed away on the table, instinctively avoiding Remus''s hand that wanted to help him. He ignored Sirius''s angry stare, and his eyes were fixed on the Locket in Bryan''s hand. He didn''t want to say anything, but the direct order from Sirius made him unable to resist. He felt apulsion to obey his master, even if it pained him to do so. So, he curled up into a ball, put his wet face between his knees, and started to rock back and forth.

    When he started to speak, his voice was low and muffled, but it carried clearly in the quiet and echoing kitchen.

    "Irresponsible young master Sirius ran away¨C"

    Kreacher spat out the first sentence, making Sirius''s face darken. Bryan and Remus held him back with their eyes.

    "¨CHe broke the mistress''s heart, he did. But young master Regulus, he had his pride. He knew what it meant to be a ck, to have pure blood. He followed the Dark Lord, the Dark Lord who would let the wizards stop hiding and rule over the Muggles and their filth. Young master Regulus joined the Dark Lord''s organization when he was sixteen. He was so proud, so happy to serve the Dark Lord¨C"

    <strong>Hmph!</strong>

    Sirius snorted with contempt, but his eyes betrayed his sadness.

    "Get to the point."

    Bryan interrupted Kreacher''s rambling with a sharp tone.

    "Tell us what happened, Kreacher. And make it quick."

    Kreacher shivered with fear. As a magical creature, he had a keen ''magic sense''. He could feel something different about Bryan, something powerful and dangerous. And this young man had the authority tomand him.

    "One day, after that year, young master Regulus came to the kitchen to see me, Kreacher. Young master Regulus was kind to Kreacher."

    He said this with a hint of pride, and also of grief.

    He shook his head, remembering Bryan''s order, and tears filled his eyes.

    "The Dark Lord needed a house-elf, and young master Regulus volunteered Kreacher."

    He said this with a tremble in his voice, reliving the horror of that night.

    "What did Voldemort want a house-elf for?" Remus asked, puzzled. "He had plenty of supporters among the dark creatures. Werewolves, giants, vampires, Death Eaters¡­ Why would he need a house-elf?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0259 The Unknown Hero (Part-2)

    0259 The Unknown Hero (Part-2)

    "What did Voldemort want a house-elf for?" Remus couldn''t help asking, "Werewolves, giants, vampires, Death Eaters, many dark creatures are Voldemort''s supporters. He doesn''tck minions?"

    Remus''s doubt was soon answered, as the story continued, they seemed to follow Kreacher back to many years ago, to the seaside cave that Muggles couldn''t reach.

    They listened with rapt attention, as Kreacher described the dark and damp cave, the greenishke full of Inferi, the stone basin filled with a cursed potion, and the Locket thaty at the bottom of it.

    Sirius''s breathing became heavier and heavier. He stared at Kreacher with a pale face, his fists clenched and his veins bulging, as if he wanted to rush up and beat Kreacher up at any time. He was furious and heartbroken, as he learned how his brother had sacrificed himself.

    Remus''s expression was also unprecedentedly serious. By a twist of fate, they learned of a bizarre incident of Voldemort, which might involve Voldemort''s deepest secret.

    The story of the young man named Regulus was indeed admirable. Bryan also felt a bit of respect, but by the end of the story, he had started to think about other things.

    He was not surprised by the existence of Horcruxes, as he had already known about them for a long time. He was more interested in the logic behind Voldemort''s actions.

    Dumbledore was looking for Voldemort''s Horcruxes, and his method was to trace Voldemort''s life in the wizarding world, hoping to find some clues.

    <em>''Hmm. Voldemort gave the diary to Lucius Malfoy, and let Regulus ck get involved in the hiding of the locket. Would he treat this as a kind of employee benefit, letting every loyal Death Eater participate in this matter?''</em> As he said that, Bryan couldn''t understand this behavior.

    He had never made a Horcrux, but if he wanted to make one, he would never reveal his soul''s location everywhere. Perhaps, he would put a piece of his soul into an inconspicuous stone, and then quietly sink it into the Mariana Trench, the deepest part of the ocean. Perhaps, splitting his soul too many times had made Voldemort''s thinking problematic, or perhaps he was overconfident in his ability to protect his Horcruxes.

    "¨CYoung master Regulus took out a locket from his pocket, the same as the Dark Lord''s."

    Kreacher looked at the locket in Bryan''s hand, tears streaming down his long nose.

    "He told Kreacher to hold it, and after the stone basin dried up, to switch the lockets."

    Kreacher''s sobbing became coarse and harsh, making Remus and Sirius concentrate to understand his words.

    "He ordered¨CKreacher to leave¨Cnot to mind him, he didn''t let Kreacher tell the mistress what he did¨Cbut to destroy the Dark Lord''s locket. Kreacher switched the lockets¨Cwatched helplessly as the young master was dragged into the water. And then oh!"

    Kreacher fell on the table, making a sound like a bullfrog, and cried loudly.

    The candles on the candbra went out one by one as Kreacher recounted the past, and now only one remained, flickering uncertainly. The kitchen was plunged into darkness, and the only sounds were Kreacher''s wails and the crackling of the fire.

    Sirius''s face turned pale and white, his eyes empty as if he had been hit by the Dementor''s Kiss. He couldn''t believe that Regulus had tried to defy Voldemort, and that he had paid with his life so young and so bravely.

    "Did you try to destroy the locket, Kreacher?"

    Remus reached out his hand, but at the moment of contact, Kreacher dodged as if he had been electrocuted, with tears in his eyes, and muttered.

    "Filthy wolf cub touched Kreacher, Kreacher doesn''t allow, what would the mistress say?"

    He spat out the words with contempt and fear, rejecting Remus''s kindness. He feared that the mistress, thete Walburga ck, would punish him for letting a half-breed touch him.

    Besides a bitter smile, Remus couldn''t make any other expression.

    Bryan stared at the ring of Runes on the locket''s surface, showing a thoughtful expression.

    Hogwarts was the academic frontier of the wizarding world today, and the interpretation of ancient Runes was undoubtedly the closest to the truth. But even the most knowledgeable wizards of Runes wouldn''t dare to say that they knew everything about these ancient magical characters, which might contain extraordinary magic.

    Bryan didn''t know the meaning of this circle of mysterious symbols, but he felt familiar with them, because he had seen simr characters on the Ravenw diadem, which had stayed in his hands for some days.

    "Answer the question¨C"

    Sirius''s expression was rigid, and he ordered Kreacher to answer Remus''s question in a mumbling tone.

    So, Kreacher howled in agony, and suppressed his sobbing. He felt ashamed and remorseful, as he confessed his failure.

    "Kreacher couldn''t leave a mark on it. Tried many ways but couldn''t seed. Kreacher punished himself, tried again, and punished himself again, but it was always useless. There were so many powerful magics on the locket, Kreacher believed that only from the inside could it be destroyed. Kreacher failed to execute the order, Kreacher couldn''t destroy the locket, Kreacher let down young master Regulus."

    "How dare you mention Regulus!"

    Sirius suddenly exploded, and if it weren''t for Remus''s timely intervention, he would have strangled Kreacher.

    "Why didn''t you tell me everything then, Kreacher, why! He was only seventeen then, just of age, and you just watched him being dragged under the water by those monsters!"

    Maybe Sirius hated his parents, hated the ck family that had brought him so much pain and oppression, but he always cared for his brother, even when he became a Death Eater. Otherwise, he wouldn''t have investigated his death on his own after Regulus passed away.

    Sirius sat on the chair, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders slightly trembling. He wished he had done more to protect his brother, to save him from the dark path he had chosen.

    Regulus was only seventeen then, still a child. He couldn''t imagine how much courage his foolish brother had gathered to challenge the most evil dark wizard in history.

    How brave he must have been to defy the Dark Lord he once worshipped.

    In that cold, corpse-filled cave, only Kreacher was a witness to his death for a noble cause. Regulus sacrificed his life to fight against the evil.

    He proved with his death that the ''noble and most ancient house of ck'' had real glory, and it was not just a delusion of some blood-purity obsessed people.

    Remus took out a few candles from the drawer under the cab, reced the old ones on the candlestick and lit them up, restoring the brightness in the kitchen. The flickering light cast shadows on the walls, making the ce look even more gloomy and depressing.

    Kreacher was still sobbing on the table. This old house-elf loved Regulus more than anyone, but he had to watch him die in front of his eyes. Sirius didn''t understand him, but Remus did. He knew that his heart must be filled with unspeakable sorrow. Maybe because Remus himself was also an outcast in the eyes of the wizards, he was especially sympathetic to him.

    "Bryan?"

    Remus looked at Bryan, who was examining the mysterious symbols on the locket, and asked softly,

    "Voldemort values this locket so much, and you recognized it at a nce. You must know what it is, right?"

    "Don''t ask too much, Remus¨C"

    Bryan put the locket in his pocket, then said lightly,

    "You don''t have the ability to keep secrets. The more you know, the more dangerous it is."

    "That was what Regulus took back with his life, Bryan," Sirius raised his head, his eyes red, staring at Bryan who was about to take the locket for himself, "I can''t give it to you, it must be destroyed. That was Regulus''s wish!"

    "About that, you don''t have the ability either."

    Bryan was unmoved,

    "Besides, this locket has a very strong magic that can confuse people''s hearts. If you wear it for a long time, you will be Voldemort''s puppet. Only wizards who are skilled lumens and have high magical power can resist its temptation."

    Remus and Sirius looked at each other speechlessly.

    "Do you have the ability to destroy it, sir?"

    Kreacher seemed to hear something from Bryan''s words. He stopped crying hard, got up shakily, jumped off the table, and came to Bryan''s face, staring at him with his blurry big eyes.

    Maybe out of pity, Bryan''s tone softened a bit,

    "I will do it, Kreacher, but not now."

    "We should notify Albus immediately¨C"

    After a long silence, Remus suddenly said, "Since Voldemort cares so much about this locket, it must hide some big secrets. It might be Voldemort''s weakness. Albus must know about this."

    Bryan raised his eyebrows, ready to say something, but Sirius beat him to it. He said harshly,

    "If you want to tell Dumbledore, Remus, I have no objection, but I don''t have time for that now. I have to go and bring Regulus''s body back. I can''t leave him there!"

    Kreacher stared at Sirius, as if seeing him for the first time.

    "Calm down, Sirius," Remus said solemnly, "Regulus was a hero. We can''t ignore him, but I still think we should inform Albus first."

    From Kreacher''s description, they knew that the cave must be very dangerous. There were many traps that Voldemort had left to protect the locket. Remus thought that with his poor condition and Sirius, who had been in Azkaban for more than ten years, they might not make it out alive.

    Remus automatically ignored Bryan. He knew that Bryan didn''t like Sirius very much. He thought that he probably wouldn''t apany Sirius to look for Regulus''s body.

    "I''m not afraid of danger, Remus,"

    Sirius''s gray eyes were covered with tears, as he spoke with a hoarse voice,

    "I''ve let Regulus sleep in that coldke for more than ten years. I have to bring him back now, bring him back and bury him. I can''t wait a moment!"

    He thought of his brother''s body lying alone in that dark, damp cave, surrounded by the corpses of the Inferi. Sirius felt an unprecedented sadness in his heart, a sadness that he had suppressed for so long, but now it burst out uncontrobly.

    Hearing Sirius''s words, Kreacher let out a loud wail, beating his head desperately. He med himself for his master''s death, for leaving him behind in the cave, for failing to destroy the locket.

    Remus clenched his face. He never expected that the dinner to celebrate Sirius''s return would turn out like this. He had hoped that they could catch up on their old memories, and share their ns for the future.

    But now, everything was ruined by the revtion of Regulus''s true cause of death, and the discovery of the locket that he had stolen from Voldemort.

    What should he do now?

    Because of Regulus''s true cause of death, Sirius had lost his mind. He wasn''t surprised by Sirius''s behavior. He had known him for a long time.

    "Let''s go and see¨C"

    To Remus''s surprise, Bryan actually volunteered to go with Sirius.

    Looking at the slightly stunned Remus, Bryan smiled and said,

    "Regulus''s bravery and fearlessness is admirable. Such a hero deserves a decent resting ce. And, I''m indeed interested in that cave. It''s like getting a glimpse of Voldemort''s power in advance."

    Remus felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He understood what Bryan meant. He believed that Voldemort woulde back to the Wizarding world one day. And so did Albus. That meant that the dark lord who had brought them so much pain and misery would soon face them again. By then, How many of them would survive the rising storm?

    "Thank you, Bryan¨C" Sirius pursed his lips, "This was my own business."

    With Bryan on board, Remus was still worried, but he had nothing to say. He had seen with his own eyes how terrifying this young wizard could be when he went crazy. And Dumbledore''sments also proved his strength.

    "Take us to that cave, Kreacher!"

    As soon as the matter was settled, Sirius became impatient.

    But Kreacher suddenly hesitated. He stared at Bryan, looking like he wanted to say something. Under Sirius''s repeated urging, he finally said timidly,

    "Mr. Watson, your magic is too powerful. Old Kreacher is afraid he can''t take you with him¨C"

    "Ah, that''s indeed a problem."

    Bryan pped his forehead, then looked at Sirius,

    "You two go with Kreacher first. You have a mark I set on you. I will apparate there by myself ording to the location of the mark."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0260 The Cave (Part-1)

    0260 The Cave (Part-1)

    It was around eleven o''clock at night, and a bright moon hung in the southwest sky, casting a cold radiance that illuminated the barrenndscape. There was not a single cloud in the night sky, and countless stars were embedded in the unfathomable darkness, their light faint and distant.

    The temperature was very low, and the waves near the shore were mixed with numerous broken ice blocks that glittered like shards of ss. They crashed against the reefs with a deafening roar, making a sound like thousands of horses galloping on the ground.

    <strong>Puff!</strong>

    Bryan, who had changed into a wizard''s robe, suddenly appeared behind Sirius, startling him. He was standing on the edge of a high ck rock, carefully looking down at the sea below. His eyes reflected the moonlight, and his face was tense and alert.

    "Is this the ce?"

    Bryan looked around cautiously, and saw that behind them was a cliff, with a steep rock wall falling straight down. It was so dark that they could not see its face, only the outline of its jagged edges. And on the shore below, there were many smooth ck rocks shaped like goose eggs, piled up like a graveyard of stones. There was no grass or sand, only destion and gloom.

    "How did Voldemort find this ce?" After finishing his observation, Remus asked in confusion, "There is nothing here rted to magic. I don''t understand how Voldemort found this ce."

    "Maybe Dumbledore can answer your question."

    Bryan said with a hint, and looked at the cliff on his right. His eyes suddenly narrowed, as if he had noticed something. He raised his wand and pointed it at a spot on the rock wall, where a faint trace of magic was hidden.

    "Where is Regulus, Kreacher?"

    Sirius did not care why Voldemort would hide the seemingly important locket in this deste coast. He only wanted to find his brother''s body as soon as possible.

    "There is a crack in the cliff over there, master!"

    Kreacher pointed at the steep rock wall and said, "Kreacher can go in by himself, but he can''t take master Sirius and Wolf-Master Remus with him. Kreacher can''t break the magic there!"

    "Bryan, you found something, didn''t you?"

    Remus noticed Bryan''s strangeness. He followed his gaze and saw the faint glow of his wand tip.

    "The magic flow in that ce is unnatural."

    Bryan simply said, and then he also came to the edge of the ck rock where they stood. His gaze followed the many uneven cracks below the rock that could be used as footholds, until he pointed at the surfaceyer of ice g, and the undercurrents below the sea.

    "We are not very lucky. The tide is high now. We may have to swim a long distance to get in."

    Bryan said calmly.

    "Then let''s do it!" Sirius said immediately, "My animagus form is good at swimming. That''s how I swam back to the maind from the isted ind where Azkaban is located."

    As he spoke, a ck light shed, and Sirius''s body became soft like dough. After a twist, the bear-sized ck dog appeared in front of them again.

    "Then¨C"

    Bryan pointed his wand at Kreacher, "I put a positioning mark on you. You apparate to the cave first, and I will swim in with Remus and Sirius."

    After some preparation, they finally followed the footholds on the edge of the rock and stood in the icy cold sea water. The water soaked their clothes and skin, and made them shiver uncontrobly.

    The raging sea breeze that came head-on carried a pungent smell of salt and seaweed, which made them nauseous. And the irregrly shaped, sharp-edged ice blocks in the sea water also kept hitting their calves, cutting and bruising them. In such an environment, diving into the sea was indeed a very dangerous thing.

    Bryan''s wand tip emitted a white light, which was like the guiding light from the lighthouse on the shore, warm and reassuring. He held it in front of him, and plunged into the dark water.

    "I''ll lead the way, Remus follows me, and Sirius covers the rear."

    Bryan''s voice without any waves made them feel very calm in the night that seemed to swallow everyone. Whether it was Remus or Sirius, they naturally regarded Bryan as the operatingmander, and followed his orders.

    The undercurrents under the sea were moreplex than they had imagined. The cold water rushed from all directions and hit the ''adventure team''. There seemed to be a strong suction force in the depths of the sea, like a bottomless vortex, wanting to drag everyone into the abyss. They had to struggle against the water pressure and theck of oxygen, and hope that they would reach the cave before it was toote.

    Bryan bit the glowing wand in his mouth, and he cast a bubble-head charm on himself and Remus and Sirius, so that they didn''t have to worry about breathing. He felt a warm bubble of air form around his head, and he dived into the cold water.

    But the sea water was too cold. It felt like needles piercing his skin, and he shivered uncontrobly. After a while, Remus, who was pale as a ghost, suddenly struggled. He clutched his right leg with a painful expression, and his body fell weakly to the bottom of the sea. He had been bitten by a vicious sea creature, and blood was oozing from his wound. But fortunately, Sirius noticed his condition. He bit Remus''s cor with his mouth, and swam forward desperately with the standard dog paddle. His ck fur was soaked and heavy, and his eyes were full of worry.

    Soon, the crack they dived into became a dark tunnel. When the tide was low, people should be able to walk here, but now, the tunnel waspletely submerged in the sea water. The water was murky and full of debris, and they could barely see anything. They had to rely on Bryan''s wand light to guide them.

    The tunnel was very narrow, and the muddy rock walls on both sides were only three feet apart. Under such space constraints, Bryan could no longer swim forward. He used his numb fingers to push against the rough rocks, and supported himself to walk through thest distance. He felt the water pressure increase, and his ears popped painfully.

    <strong>Ssh!</strong>

    Twenty minutester, Bryan finally got out of the water, and stood up from the remaining few steps. He shook his head to get rid of the water droplets, and took a deep breath. And Kreacher, who was standing in the cave twenty feet away, finally breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Bryan''s head. He had been waiting anxiously, fearing that something bad had happened to them.

    "I almost thought I would die in the sea¨C"

    Remus crawled up the rock tform with his limbs, and leaned against the rock wall, gasping for breath. He looked pale and weak, and his leg was still bleeding. And Sirius also returned to his human form, bending his waist and holding his knees, panting heavily. It seemed that they were both exhausted. They had never experienced such a difficult journey before.

    Bryan had entered the state of exploring the secret realm. He left the two somewhat weak middle-aged men behind, and stood in the center of the cave, looking at the rock walls and the high dome with the light from his wand.

    Kreacher was already anxious, but he didn''t dare to disturb Bryan, who was observing the situation. He could only worry by himself.

    "Oh, interesting¨C"

    Suddenly, Bryan''s gaze pointed to a wall, and he walked over quickly, touching the rough rock wall with his fingers. His light purple eyes turned dark, and a vortex appeared in his pupils.

    "What''s going on, Bryan?"

    Sirius and Remus helped each other and walked over. They looked at the rock wall and were confused. They couldn''t see anything unusual, just a in and solid wall.

    "This is the front hall, and this wall is not a natural barrier, but magic¨C"

    Bryan''s interested expression made Remus puzzled, "This is just a normal rock wall, isn''t it? I can''t see anything special."

    Effort can help you ovee some obstacles, but on the road of magic, only those with extraordinary talents can reach the higher levels. Bryan ignored Remus''s question, because the scenery on that level could not be exined by words. He was seeing something that ordinary wizards could not see.

    In Bryan''s vision, the core of the ck rock wall was intertwined with countless indistinguishable magic pattern circuits, which formed a magic that connected the space magic power. It could continuously replenish itself with magic power, and only by using the correct method could the rock wall be opened. Using violence was not impossible, but the premise was that you had the ability to move the entire cliff.

    "Voldemort probably borrowed some of his ancestor''s ideas¨C"

    After a long time, Bryan stepped back a few steps and smiled, "But he also added some of his own style."

    "What do you mean, Bryan," Sirius, who couldn''t understand anything, said annoyedly, "How on earth are we going to get through this wall?"

    "If I''m not wrong," Bryan looked at Kreacher and said with certainty, "We probably need to pay a price, right? I think it''s. blood?"

    Kreacher had been here twice with the Dark Lord and Regulus, and he knew how to get through the wall. But Bryan saw it by himself without any hint, which made Kreacher very shocked.

    "As you said, Mr. Watson¨C" Kreacher bowed and said respectfully, and then he told the three people what he knew.

    As expected, Sirius offered his own blood, and when the glowing door appeared in front of them, Remus, who was healing Sirius, said with disgust,

    "I don''t understand, why did he set up such a mechanism?"

    Remus asked, his voice full of bewilderment and frustration. He couldn''tprehend Voldemort''s twisted logic and cruel methods.

    "We can only guess¨C"

    Bryan leaned back with his hands behind his back, and looked at the edge of the glowing door with interest. He was fascinated by the ingenious design and theplex magic involved. In the invisible magic world, the life force and magic power from the blood were maintaining the light door, but as the power was consumed, the door outline had already shown a slight contraction, like a dying me.

    "Voldemort probably wanted to weaken the wizards who came here."

    Seeing that Remus''s confusion did not disappear, Bryan continued, "If there were more than one wizard here, then this door would have limited meaning. It would only serve as a warning and a deterrent. Of course, I don''t think Voldemort would allow a bunch of people to approach his hidden and protected dark magic items, so, behind this door, there are probably some other means¨C"

    Bryan led the way, followed by two people and a house elf, and passed through the door. In an instant, the environment changed, and a very strange scene appeared in front of them.

    Although they had heard Kreacher''s description before, the real scene they saw with their own eyes was more shocking than words.

    They stood on the shore of arge ckke, which was vast and boundless, and they couldn''t even see the opposite shore. The water was so dark that it seemed to absorb all the light, and they couldn''t tell how deep it was. They could imagine that there was an underground river connected to the sea at the bottom of theke.

    This was a huge hollow space inside the mountain. The cave was so high that even Bryan''s wand, which shone brightly, could not illuminate the top. It was like a dome that covered the wholeke, and they wondered how it was formed and supported. There were no stctites or stgmites, no signs of life or vegetation, only rocks and shadows.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0261 The Cave (Part-2)

    0261 The Cave (Part-2)

    This was a huge hollow space inside the mountain. The cave was so high that even Bryan''s wand, which shone brightly, could not illuminate the top. It was like a dome that covered the wholeke, and they wondered how it was formed and supported. There were no stctites or stgmites, no signs of life or vegetation, only rocks and shadows.

    From afar, a faint and greenish light flickered in the center of theke, reflecting on the still and silent water below. It was like a will-o''-the-wisp, luring them to their doom. Apart from that light and the brilliance of Bryan''s wand, there was nothing but thick and heavy darkness all around, a darkness that seemed denser and more oppressive than normal, making one feel hopeless just by looking at it.

    Kreacher curled up in fear, hiding behind Sirius''s legs. He remembered the terrible things that had happened here, and he shivered uncontrobly. Sirius and Remus were also awed by this miraculous sight, unable to utter a word.

    <em>''Anti-Apparition, anti-flying, anti-summoning, magic sealing, curse''</em> - Bryan narrowed his eyes, gazing at the space above theke, where countless types of powerful magic were swirling, his face slightly grim. He could sense the hostile and malicious intent of the magic, and he knew that it was designed to prevent anyone from reaching the ind in the middle of theke without following the ''rules''. It was a formidable and ingenious defense, worthy of Voldemort''s cunning and paranoia.

    Such a huge magic project was not done in a day.

    He could imagine how much effort Voldemort had put into protecting his Horcrux.

    And when Bryan looked at the smooth and ck surface of theke, he squinted his eyes, a hint of murderous aura emanating from his whole body.

    It was Inferi!

    Inferi were not something to be afraid of, even he himself had used them to teach young wizards, but¡­

    Just by looking at a small area, Bryan could ''see'' hundreds of Inferi, and judging by their clothes, they were all Muggles, and among these Muggles, there were men, women, old people, children, and even, Bryan saw a swollen baby who looked only one or two years old!

    By extrapting to the wholeke, there must be thousands or even tens of thousands of Muggles buried in the water, and turned into Inferi by magic!

    Massacre, only a ruthless and inhuman massacre could produce such a number of Inferi, and the Wizarding world had no record or report of this brutal and extreme ughter, perhaps because it was too horrible, and once it was exposed, it would be condemned by the whole world, and even the Wizarding world would be shaken, so the Ministry of Magic and the Muggle government chose to conceal it.

    "What''s wrong with you?"

    Remus and Sirius asked in unison.

    They were not just students who had just graduated from Hogwarts, but experienced adult wizards, and they could sense the thick and indelible murderous aura that surrounded Bryan, who was staring at the ckke. This aura was so cold that it made them both feel a vague urge to turn and run.

    "Nothing¨C"

    Bryan breathed lightly, suppressing his emotions. He knew that he had to calm down, and focus on the task at hand.

    "Kreacher, Regulus back then-"

    Sirius thought of his brother, and quickly stopped dwelling on Bryan''s strangeness. He lowered his head and looked at Kreacher at his feet, his voice nasal, mixed with a trace of irrepressible sadness, as if he had a lump in his throat.

    "Back then, where was he?"

    "There is an ind in the middle of theke, Master Sirius¨C"

    Kreacher sobbed, he did not dare to face Regulus''s death, he covered his gray eyes with his long fingers and pointed in the direction of the green light, his voice trembling and hoarse.

    "Kreacher was there at that time, he saw Master Regulus being dragged under the water by those corpse''s hands. Kreacher tried to save him, but he couldn''t. He left him alone, he betrayed him. Kreacher is a bad elf, a bad elf!"

    Hearing Kreacher''s words, Sirius felt a surge of grief and guilt, and he immediately rushed forward, as if he wanted to slide down the shore and swim over like before.

    "Wait, Sirius!"

    Remus grabbed his arm, and held him back with all his strength.

    "Did you forget what Kreacher said, there are Inferi in thiske, and maybe a lot of them! You can''t just jump in, you''ll be killed!"

    "Let me go, Remus!" Sirius shouted, his eyes red and wild. "I have to find Regulus, those Inferi can''t stop me!!"

    Remus wanted to persuade him more, but Bryan said calmly.

    "If he wants to die, why bother stopping him?"

    Bryan''s words made Sirius quiet down, and he stopped trying to jump into theke.

    "Do you still remember the location of the boat, Kreacher?"

    Seeing Sirius calm down, Bryan turned his attention to Kreacher. He ignored Sirius''s re, and focused on the task at hand.

    "Kreacher remembers it''s over there, Mr. Watson."

    For so many years, Kreacher had been secretly trying to destroy the locket, and every time he failed, he would evoke the scene of Regulus''s death that he did not want to remember. Hearing the question, he jumped out from Sirius''s side, leaned his body against the rock wall, and led them to the right.

    A few minutester, they stopped at another ce, but there was nothing there.

    "Kreacher forgot the exact location of the boat."

    Kreacher said with a trembling voice, he banged his head against the rock wall, as a way to punish himself.

    Remus stopped his self-harm, and when he was about to ask Bryan, he saw Bryan passing by Kreacher, walking quickly forward, and finally stopping thirty feet away from them.

    "I think I found it."

    Bryan reached out his hand from the narrow rock passage, grabbed something, and then tapped his fist with his wand in his other hand.

    Immediately, a thick green copper chain suddenly emerged from the water, quickly extending to the shore, all the way to Bryan''s clenched fist. Seeing this, Bryan pulled his left hand back hard, and the copper chain suddenly ran wild, making a loud noise, and quickly pulled a small boat from the bottom of theke. The boat was old and rusty, and it looked like it had been there for a long time.

    "If I didn''t know the situation beforehand, Bryan," Remus hurried over, staring at Bryan''s expressionless face, and said in a strange voice,

    "I might think you''ve been here many times before."

    "How did you find it?" Sirius also expressed his curiosity.

    "Where there is magic, the concentration of magic there is different from the surrounding environment, as long as the wizard has a slightly better perception, he should be able to find clues¨C"

    Bryan looked at the boat leaning on the shore, which could only carry two people at most, and his face was thoughtful.

    "This is probably Voldemort''s obstacle to prevent too many wizards from approaching the locket."

    He said, and he deduced the possible mechanism and purpose of the boat.

    "Why, can''t we make this boat run more trips?"

    Sirius wondered. He thought that they could just take turns to go to the ind, and he didn''t see the problem.

    "I think this boat will not return automatically once it reaches the ind, unless it senses that the person who went ashore has died and, hmm, magic measurement. I see, it''s not about weight, but magic¨C"

    Bryan muttered to himself, and no one could understand him. Remus and Sirius gave up thinking, and they waited eagerly for him to say what to do next.

    Bryan did not hesitate, he took a step forward, and jumped neatly into the center of the boat, and as hended in the cabin, the boat sank heavily, and the waterline rose by five or six inches, and the boat shook violently, looking like it would capsize at any time.

    "Come back, Bryan!"

    The two people on the shore shouted in unison, their voices full of panic and worry. They reached out their hands to fish for Bryan, who was standing in the middle of the cabin, bncing himself with difficulty. They wanted to pull him back to the shore, because they knew what would happen if he fell into the water.

    But after the shaking, the boat finally stabilized, and nothing happened. It seemed that the boat could still hold Bryan.

    Bryan observed the edge of the boat, and he saw that there was only about an inch left, and the water would overflow and flood the cabin. He looked at Sirius and Remus on the shore, and roughly estimated, and he had an idea.

    "Kreacher can apparate to the middle of theke, you twoe on, it won''t be too much trouble."

    He sounded confident and reassuring, but in fact, there were still problems.

    Sirius and Remus were both normal-sized adult wizards, and although their magic would not put too much burden on the boat, their size was indeed a big problem for the small cabin. The boat was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

    Bryan went through some trouble, and he used his wand to cast a spell on Sirius and turned him into Tom. He handed Tom to Remus, and told him to hug him tightly. Remus nodded, and he stepped on the boat, holding Tom in his arms. He felt the boat sink by half an inch, and he held his breath, hoping that it wouldn''t sink any further. The boat shook for a while, as if it was protesting the extra weight, but then it regained its calm.

    "Let''s go¨C"

    With Bryan''s calm voice, the boat buzzed and trembled, gently elerating from a standstill, and slowly heading towards the ind in theke. It cut through the dark and still water, leaving a faint trail behind it.

    The boat glided on theke, surrounded by silence, except for the soft rustling sound of the bow cutting through the water. The boat moved on its own, without any need for them to steer, as if an invisible rope was pulling it towards the green light in the center of theke. The light seemed to beckon them, like a siren''s song, but they knew it was a trap. Before long, they could no longer see the cave wall behind them, as if they were floating on the sea, only without any waves. The air was cold and damp, and they felt a chill in their bones.

    The boat was not fast, and that gave the passengers enough time to ''admire'' the corpses that floated under the water. They were pale and bloated, their eyes wide open and staring. Some of them wore tattered robes, others were naked, but all of them bore the mark of death.

    Bryan squinted his eyes, his cold and focused gaze fixed on the dead bodies that drifted past them, without saying a word.

    Remus pressed his lips tightly, every breath felt like a struggle, and so did Sirius in his arms. Remus held him close, feeling his heartbeat and his warmth, the only signs of life in this ce of death. At this moment, those dark and bloody years came back to their minds. They remembered the friends they had lost, the battles they had fought, the horrors they had witnessed.

    No one would like the madness of death dancing and singing, and after a while, the people in the cabin looked away, hoping to reach the shore as soon as possible.

    A few minutester, the green light in the center of theke became brighter, and the boat shook, as if it hit something and stopped.

    Kreacher was squatting on the water, eagerly waiting for them to arrive. He looked like a frightened rabbit, but he was loyal to his masters.

    Bryan did not waste any time, he jumped out of the cabin and walked forward a few steps, examining the ind, while Remus also got off carefully with Sirius. They helped each other to stand, feeling the ground beneath their feet.

    As Bryan had said, the ghostly boat did not return to the shore after they left, it just stayed there, waiting for them to return or die.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0262 The Cave (Part-3)

    0262 The Cave (Part-3)

    As Bryan had said, the ghostly boat did not return to the shore after they left, it just stayed there, waiting for them to return or die.

    The ind in theke was notrge, about the same size as Dumbledore''s office at school. The ground was a t ck b, unlike anything natural. It looked like it had been carved out of the rock, or maybe it was a part of the magic that protected the ce. It was smooth and shiny, reflecting the green light that came from the stone basin that stood in the middle of the ind.

    Standing on the ind, they all noticed that the green light they had seen from the shore was much brighter, and Bryan blinked, knowing that this was the stone basin filled with green liquid that Kreacher had described in his story. Curious, he walked over to it.

    Sirius had a gloomy face, now that he was here, he did not shout or scream to get back Regulus, but instead, he walked into the green halo with Remus.

    The three of them surrounded the stone basin, which was the center of the ind. Inside the basin, there was a basin of emerald green liquid, emitting a faint phosphorescence.

    Bryan only nced at it and then shifted his attention to the base of the basin, which seemed to interest him more. He ran his fingertip along the curved line downward, until his palm pressed on the smooth and cold ck b.

    The green liquid in the basin was not very clear, and it seemed to swirl and ripple, as if it was alive. He hesitated for a moment, then looked at Bryan, who was acting strangely, "Do you have a way¡­ I mean, to get out the fake locket, that¡­ after all, it''s Regulus''s¨C"

    "Sirius¨C"

    Remus called him softly with a reproachful tone, "You heard what Kreacher said, what would happen if you drink the potion in the basin, you shouldn''t trouble Bryan. Oh, to be honest, I kind of miss Snape right now, he''s a potions master, he might have some advice on Voldemort''s potion¨C"

    <em>''Maybe this potion was made by that snot''</em>¨C Sirius was about to say this, but he held back, considering that Bryan was present.

    Kreacher also hoped to get back Regulus''s relic, but he was more concerned about Regulus''s body, his eyes were always looking in one direction, where Regulus was dragged under the water by the inferis, that was a memory he could not face, but he could not forget.

    But now, He did not dare to remind the three of them of their purpose, especially, he did not dare to disturb Bryan, Kreacher could see that, to get Regulus''s body out of theke, they had to rely on the new master of the ck house.

    "It depends on how much you are willing to pay¨C"

    Bryan pped his hands and stood up, saying, with a cunning smile on his face,

    "There are two ways, the simple one is like Regulus did, drink the stuff in the basin, it won''t kill you, it will just make you lose the ability to move, I guess Voldemort did this to interrogate the wizards who came here, how they found this ce, and what they wanted the locket for¨C"

    To be honest, if he didn''t have to look for Regulus''s body, Sirius would have drunk the potion. Sirius would not let Remus and Bryan, who hade to the ind, drink the potion, he had no right to do that, even if they offered, he would refuse, he was already grateful that they apanied him to this cave full of dangers.

    And Kreacher, Sirius stopped Kreacher, who was eager to try, with his eyes, even Regulus knew to sacrifice himself, he would not be so despicable as to order Kreacher to drink the potion.

    "What''s the second way?"

    Remus asked for Sirius, breaking the silence. He looked at Bryan, who was standing near the stone basin, his expression unreadable.

    "There''s more than one way to get rid of the potion in the basin¨C"

    Bryan tapped his left palm rhythmically with his wand, he scanned the darkness around the ind, his smile cold,

    "The base of the basin connects to the earth, linking the magic of the entire huge space, to destroy the potion in the basin with force, you have to drain the magic of the cave to a very low level, but, because of the ''magic negative pressure'' phenomenon, this has a certain possibility of causing the mountain above to copse.

    Normally, this is a very stupid and thankless way, but unfortunately, I happen to have this mood tonight."

    <em>Mountain copse¨C</em> Hearing these words, the two middle-aged men looked up at the ceiling of the cave hidden in the darkness, shivering in unison.

    "Let''s find Regulus first, Bryan."

    Sirius quickly changed the subject, trying to dissuade Bryan from his crazy idea.

    Finding Regulus''s body was indeed the first priority, Bryan nodded slightly, "Well, Kreacher, you must remember where Regulus was dragged under the water, right?"

    "Kreacher will never forget, sir!"

    The old house-elf wiped the tears from his cheeks, and pointed in a direction.

    "Good¨C"

    Bryan nodded with satisfaction, he saw that Remus had taken out his wand and assumed a defensive posture, and Sirius had also taken out the wand he had found in the old house, a wand of some ancestor of the ck family, his eyes determined, staring at the direction Kreacher pointed.

    "The inferi won''te up one by one, before Regulus appears, you have to deal with them yourself, I won''t help¨C"

    After scanning the surroundings with his keen eyes, Bryan estimated the density of the inferis under the dark and murkyke near the small and rocky ind. Then, he withdrew his sharp gaze and saw that Sirius and Remus were ready for battle, their wands gripped tightly in their hands, and even old Kreacher was in a fighting stance. Bryan nodded slightly and lifted his right index finger, which was resting on the base of his wand, and tapped it lightly.

    <strong>Hum-¡ª¡ª</strong>

    A faint humming sound followed, and a gentle breeze appeared out of thin air, spreading from the center of his finger to all directions. Wherever the breeze swept, whether it was the green liquid in the basin that could not be touched directly, or the mirror-like ckke, they all rippled slightly, as if disturbed by a pebble.

    <strong>Ssh!</strong>

    The next second, theke surface suddenly surged, and countless dead bodies with stiff and pale faces emerged from the water. Their gray and lifeless eyes stared at the people on the ind in theke, and the green light from the basin shone on their faces, making them look even more ghastly. Although they did not roar, in the silence, everyone seemed to hear the deafening howl of the inferi.

    "I''ve never seen such a big scene, Padfoot¡ª¡ª"

    Even Remus, who had experienced the cruel and bloody war years, felt his legs go soft at this sight. He twitched his mouth and sweat dripped from his forehead, mixing with the water on his face.

    "It can''t be worse than dealing with the Death Eaters, right, Moony¡ª¡ª"

    Sirius''s voice also trembled a bit, but he refused to give up. He forced himself to look at the inferis of men, women, and children with their dim eyes, trying to suppress the fear and disgust in his heart.

    The charge began!

    In the distance, the inferis were floating towards the center of theke, like a swarm of flies.

    And around the ind, hundreds of inferis gradually approached the shore from all sides. They shuffled their stiff steps and squeezed together, their shoulders and arms bumping into each other, causing their bodies to sway. Their movements were slow, but relentless, like zombies in a horror movie. When the inferis and theke water rolled onto the shore, Sirius and Remus unconsciously backed against each other, feeling the coldness of each other''s backs.

    Sirius blew the horn of attack first. He threw out a curse, and the blue curse light shaped like a sickle flew over a distance of sixty feet and sessfully tore off the legs of the frontmost inferi, sending blood and flesh flying.

    But that did not make the corpse lose its ability to move. It and itspanions who were tripped by it crawled together, relying on their arms, slowly but firmly crawling towards them, like a group of hungry worms.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    Remus''s wand tip shot out a thin rope, which tied up several inferis on the ground, blocking the progress of the inferis in that direction to some extent. But in other directions, the corpses were still crawling towards the center like a tide, and the nearest ones were only thirty feet away from them, close enough to smell their rotten breath.

    These slow actions won''t work!

    Sirius and Remus realized this at the same time. If they continued at this pace, they might be done for in less than two minutes. They needed to use more powerful and effective spells to stop the inferis.

    The attack rhythm suddenly elerated. Sirius and Remus moved around the ind, which was not veryrge, in a crisscross pattern. One after another, dazzling and brilliant curse lights cut through the gloomy space and finally disappeared on theke surface. From a high altitude, it looked like a grand fireworks show was being held on the ind, but with a deadly purpose.

    And Kreacher also yed a big role. The house-elf''s attack methods were not many, but fortunately, they were powerful enough. Kreacher jumped around, constantly flicking out a piece of silver light with his fingers, pushing back the inferis who tried tond. His face was twisted with anger and hatred, as he remembered his former master Regulus and his sacrifice.

    "Have you seen Regulus, Sirius!"

    Remus was still in the weak period of transformation. He had just soaked in the cold sea water for a while, and this high-intensity battle made him feel very exhausted. His muscles ached and his breath was ragged. After knocking down a few more inferis, he shouted at Sirius on the other side of the ind,

    "We can''t hold on for long, unless we use fire to deal with these inferis¡ª¡ª"

    Fire was the only thing that could destroy the inferispletely, but it was also very dangerous to use in such a confined space.

    "Wait a bit, Remus, Kreacher and I are looking!"

    Sirius shouted back, his voice hoarse and desperate. He jumped on a low wall made by transfiguration, which was barely enough to keep him away from the inferis. He kicked off a middle-aged inferi who tried to grab his trouser leg, sending it tumbling back into the water. He looked anxiously for Regulus among the moving heads, hoping to spot his brother''s familiar features.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    At this moment, a hundred feet away from the shore, the boilingke surface suddenly burst out a huge monster. The monster looked like a rhino, with gray-white skin and a long horn on its head that shimmered with a slight metallic luster. It was covered with scars and wounds, some of them still bleeding.

    This monster was obviously dead too, but it retained its previous strength. It easily knocked the dozen or so inferis in front of it into the air, and even a few inferis were directly torn apart by its hard horn, and white intestines and transparent slime sshed everywhere, creating a gruesome scene.

    "There''s a horned serpent here!"

    Sirius almost vomited, but he forced himself to hold back. He jumped down from the low wall with a pale face, feeling a surge of nausea in his stomach. He staggered back a few steps and stabilized his body, then turned his head and yelled at Bryan, who was standing next to the stone basin and the base.

    "Help!, Bryan, we can''t handle this!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0263 The Cave (Part-4)

    0263 The Cave (Part-4)

    "Help, Bryan, we can''t handle this!"

    In an instant, everything was silent!

    In the invisible magical world, a tyrannical magical storm swept across all directions from where Bryan stood. Faintly, the whirlpool-like cyclone in his deep eyes slowly rotated, making a sound like andslide or a thunder.

    The sshing water, the surgingke surface, whether it was the inferis that hadnded on the ind, or those still in the shallow water, or the horned serpent that weighed two tons, everything that was tainted with magic seemed to fall into a stretched time domain, moving slower than a sloth. They looked like they were frozen in time, unable to move or react.

    "Find him quickly¡ª¡ª"

    Bryan''s calm voice brought Sirius, Remus, and Kreacher out of this state. They looked at a pale hand that was trying to get close to them a few steps away, and Remus had a look of disbelief on his face,

    "This is unbelievable, Bryan, how did you do it?!"

    "I interfered with the normal flow of magic in the area,"

    Bryan said lightly, "Don''t waste time, Voldemort hasid down a massive amount of defensive measures here. While maintaining this state, I also have to resist these dark magic curses, the consumption is veryrge¨C"

    He did not borate on the details of his spell, nor did he show any signs of fatigue or pain. He knew that this was a critical moment, and that they had to act fast before the inferis and the horned serpent broke free from his spell.

    In the distance, the inferis were still gathering towards the ind in theke. When they broke into a certain area, their movements would also be slow. But there were too many of them, and they kepting from all directions. It was only a matter of time before they overwhelmed Bryan''s magic.

    Remus stared at Bryan''s eyes, which had changed greatly, and his expression wasplicated. He had already imagined that this young man''s future achievements might beparable to Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of their time.

    "There!"

    At this moment, Kreacher suddenly shouted excitedly,

    "Master Sirius, Kreacher found Master Regulus!"

    Everyone''s eyes were attracted by Kreacher''s shout. They followed Kreacher''s finger and saw a very eye-catching inferi at the edge of the frozen area.

    The reason why it was different from the other muggle inferis in theke was that the inferi, who was probably no more than twenty years old, was wearing a ck wizard robe, and there was a very obvious ck family crest on his chest.

    Regulus looked very much like Sirius, but he was shorter than Sirius, and his body looked thin and frail. He had a handsome face, but it was marred by the signs of death.

    Under the effect of magic, this brave young man still maintained the appearance of the moment he died, except that his cheeks were slightly swollen because he had been soaking in the water for many years.

    Like the others who broke into the space where Bryan froze the magic, his movements were strange and ridiculous, but he still moved towards the ind with determination.

    "Regulus!"

    Sirius copsed in an instant. His sorrowful scream echoing in the dark cave. He felt a sharp pain in his heart, as he saw his brother''s lifeless body.

    Before Remus could react, Sirius and Kreacher burst out with astonishing speed and agility. They used the inferis on the shore as stepping stones and rushed into theke like the wind. They did not care about the danger or the cold, they only wanted to reach Regulus. Then, they dragged Regulus to the center of the ind, in front of Bryan.

    "I''m sorry, Regulus¡ª¡ª"

    Sirius knelt on the ground, clutching his brother''s body in his arms. He repeated this sentence over and over, as if he could undo the past with his words. Big drops of hot tears fell on Regulus''s face, washing away some of the dirt and blood. He looked at his brother''s face, which was still young and handsome, but also cold and lifeless.

    And Kreacher also threw himself on the young man''s chest, his small and wrinkled body shaking with sobs. He hugged his former master, who had treated him kindly and respectfully, who had sacrificed himself for a noble cause. He med himself for failing to protect him, for failing to fulfill his promise.

    Their mournful wail moved the listeners, who were also shocked and saddened by the sight. Remus felt a lump in his throat, as he watched his friend''s agony.

    Tonight''s operation finally achieved partial sess.

    They found Regulus ck, a young man whose life was tragically cut short at the age of seventeen, in order to fight against the most evil wizard in history.

    Not to mention the reaction of Kreacher, Sirius''s tears became more uncontroble as he saw his brother''s corpse. He mourned the loss of his brother and also mourned his best friends, James Potter and Lily Evans, who had been killed by the same dark lord. He felt guilty and med himself for their deaths, as everything was intricately connected to him.

    "Sirius¨C"

    Understanding his pain, Remus sighed and came up behind Sirius, gently patting his shoulder with his warm hand.

    There are many things in life that cannot be described as right or wrong. When certain things happen, we can only face them and ept them. After all, the deceased are gone, but the living still have to live¨C

    The boundary between life and death is so clear and cruel. Sirius mourned his brother, while the pale, gray veins of Regulus, who had be an Inferi, a reanimated corpse, quietly wrapped around Sirius and Kreacher''s necks. He was still faithfully carrying out Voldemort''smand to kill anyone who entered the cave where he had hidden his hocrux.

    "Watch out!"

    Remus noticed this and quickly pulled Kreacher out of the grip of the Inferi, then hugged Sirius from under his armpit and dragged him away from the danger.

    Regulus, who had lost his target, turned his attention to Bryan, who was within reach. He slowly turned over and grabbed Bryan''s robe with his cold, mmy hand.

    This pitiful scene made even Bryan, who had a strong mind, sigh in sorrow.

    He didn''t harm Regulus''s body, he just bent down and tapped his cold arm with his wand, uttering a soft spell.

    <strong>Thunk!</strong> A sound like a bell echoed in the darkness, and Regulus''s gray eyes, covered in spiderweb-like veins, closed instantly, and his bodyy t on the ground, motionless.

    Bryan shielded the dark magic that turned him into an Inferi. After so many years, Regulus''s soul finally found peace.

    "Calm down, Sirius¨C"

    Sirius, who was being dragged to the side, tried to break free from Remus''s grip and rushed to his brother''s side, while Remus held his friend tightly, his face full of sorrow and concern.

    "Regulus wouldn''t want to see you like this, would he? You were his most admired brother, he would want you toe out of those shadows and live happily in the sunlight!"

    "I will never know what he would have wanted!"

    Sirius''s eyes were red, filled with tears, and he roared, "He''s already dead, just like James and Lily. I don''t understand him. I treated him like a brainless idiot, but in reality, I''m the idiot. I''m the one who killed them!"

    Suppressing the actions of the Inferi in this heavily dark magic-infused ce took a toll on Bryan. The simplest solution was to destroy their bodies and give their souls freedom. But he knew that it would also cause a huge explosion that could bring down the whole mountain.

    "Keep an eye on Sirius¨C"

    Bryan said to both Remus and Kreacher at the same time, as he walked towards the center of the cave, where a stone basin filled with a green potion was ced.

    "Wait, Bryan!"

    Remus felt exhausted, as he had to restrain two ''madmen'' at the same time.

    "I know you''re angry that Voldemort ughtered so many Muggles, and I also hope that these poor people can find peace. But if, as you said before, it could cause the mountain to copse, I think you need to consider it carefully. We don''t know if there are any Muggles living nearby!"

    Remus''s tone was urgent, and he was sweating profusely. He hoped that Bryan would listen to reason and not act rashly.

    Well, he had seen the destion on the coast before, and Bryan''s confirmation was that it was unlikely for humans to gather here, but Remus was right, he couldn''t be certain. There might be some small viges or towns that they didn''t know about.

    "I will consider the consequences."

    Bryan nodded, his expression stern.

    He looked around and used his magical vision simr to infrared to roughly estimate the number of dark creatures in theke and evaluate the strength of the traps Voldemort had set up. Once he had an urate judgment, he turned around and his gaze fell on the vial of green potion in the stone basin.

    <strong>Hoo--</strong>A cluster of golden me tore through the darkness of this ce like a shooting star and suddenly appeared two feet above the stone basin. The me, which could burn anything, consumed downwards with a hungry roar but was met with the invisible barrier set up by Voldemort to protect the potion. The two forces devoured each other in an invisible battle, creating sparks and shockwaves that rippled through the air.

    <strong>Rumble!</strong> At the moment when the magic that froze the space was lifted, suddenly, a strong wind blew, making their ears ache and their eyes water. The previously boilingke surged with waves ten feet high, sweeping through theke from the outskirts of the ck Lake, and the Inferi on top of the waves, with their fierce faces and ws, were shattered into countless pieces. The edges of the swirling fragments flickered with dying embers, like fireflies in the night.

    <strong>Huh</strong>¨CBryan took a deep breath and exhaled, revealing gray smoke in the dim air, likeva about to erupt, and on the surface of the dormant magma, was the rising heat that made them sweat and pant.

    Remus was stunned, and even Sirius and Kreacher, who were grieving uncontrobly, stopped crying. They saw the ck smooth b where Bryan stood gradually losing its color, turning into a gray decay, as if it had been scorched by unimaginable heat.

    The ind began to crack, starting with cracks appearing under Bryan''s feet. Then, the cracks spread throughout the entire ind, as if an invisible force was eroding the rock, unseen by them. When the cracks appeared under the feet of the inferi on the outskirts of the ind, the Inferi, who had regained their ability to move, turned into thousands of pieces, their fragmented edges shimmering with extinguishing firelight.

    Bryan''s iris regained its pure purple color, the same color it had at the end of their journey to Avalon. He looked at Remus, Sirius, and Kreacher indifferently, who were panicked by the white Inferi wave that covered the sky and the earth.

    "What should we do, Bryan!" Remus gasped for breath and roared as he barely got out of this amazing scene, but his voice was barely audible amidst the roaring winds.

    "Stay there calmly." Bryan''s soft words urately fell into Remus''s ears, but made him smile bitterly.

    <em>''How could one stay calm in the face of such a cataclysmic scene?''</em> Remus thought that what he had witnessed already subverted the worldview of wizards, but what they were about to witness next could only be described as a miracle or a disaster!

    They saw the ck tide of Inferi, which had already covered the sky, surrounding the small ind. In the next second, the heavy waves would crash down, and at that time, there would be no way out for the people on the ind.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0264 End & Follow-up

    0264 End & Follow-up

    They saw the ck tide of Inferi, which had already covered the sky, surrounding the small ind. In the next second, the heavy waves would crash down, and at that time, there would be no way out for the people on the ind.

    In the moment of life and death, Bryan, with his gray hair dancing in the strong wind, finally moved again.

    Suddenly, his eyes widened, his gaze fierce, and he took a deep breath, then¨C

    <strong>Roar!</strong> A thunderous roar erupted, like the roar of an angry dragon. It was the sound of Bryan''s magic, unleashed with full force.

    The pale gray spherical barrier suddenly expanded, facing the dark magical waves containing astonishing power.

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    The two powerful forces shed, and in the void, the ck magic left by Voldemort transformed into countless dark lightning bolts, striking the barrier formed by Bryan''s burst of magic.

    In an instant, the world was silent, and the dazzling light enveloped the world.

    This moment felt so long, as if it hadsted for eternity.

    The confrontation did not determine a clear winner in the first wave of shes.

    Countless ck lightning bolts continued to strike the barrier, while theke water eroded part of the power of the barrier. At this moment, Bryan raised his wand high, and a continuous stream of hurricanes surged from in front of him, merging into the new power of the gray barrier. The barrier suddenly ignited a golden me that spread across the sky.

    This was a fierce and intense confrontation.

    Neither side had an absolute advantage.

    At times, Voldemort''s cursepressed the me-encased spherical barrier, and at other times, the barrier, fueled by Bryan''s magic, pushed back.

    The two formidable forces shed like grinding stones, and theke water and Inferi were quickly evaporated in the confrontation. The smell of burnt flesh and metal filled their nostrils, making them nauseous.

    "The cave is about to copse, Bryan!"

    While the breathtaking battle captivated the onlookers, Remus, who was still concerned about the consequences of the mountain copsing, noticed an unusual movement. Amidst the rumbling sound, he faintly heard the sound of rocks cracking.

    The stone basin beside Bryan, where a cluster of golden fire was suppressing the curse that protected the stone basin, because most of the magic in the cave space was consumed in the confrontation, the fire had begun to ignite the potion. The potion bubbled and boiled, releasing a foul odor and a green smoke.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong> After being reminded by Remus, Bryan still raised his wand high, but he nced at the stone basin.

    The golden me on the stone basin suddenly floated up and, in the blink of an eye, transformed into a golden dagger. It heavily struck the edge of the basin, causing it to shatter. The potion sttered, and a locket, identical to the one before, floated up andnded in Sirius''s hand under Bryan''s position.

    "Get ready, we''re leaving¨C"

    After dropping this sentence, Bryan looked at the lightning that had a tendency to copse, and his purple eyes suddenly brightened. He felt a surge of power, as he gathered all his remaining magic. He roared again with a thunderous force, a force that shook the earth and the sky.

    <strong>Crack--</strong> In the void, there was a crisp sound like shattering ss. The gray spherical barrier expanded uncontrobly, sweeping away everything in its path, including the lightning, theke water, and the muddyke bottom.

    "Let''s go!"

    After a shout, the group left the cave one after another, leaving behind a dramatically empty spherical space on the ground.

    <strong>*******************Scene-Break*******************</strong>

    In the early morning, the golden sunlight strolled leisurely from the other side of the city to Grimmauld Square in the west of London, casting a warm glow on the old and elegant buildings. The wild grass on the roadside trembled as it weed the rising sun, releasing a fresh and earthy scent. On the electric poles, a few birdsbed their feathers with their beaks while chirping melodiously, filling the air with their cheerful songs.

    Residents living nearby gradually walked out of their homes, either on foot or riding bicycles, slowly making their way to the nearby subway station. They wore coats and scarves to ward off the chill of the early spring. When they met acquaintances on the way, they would exchange friendly greetings and discuss the weather and the newly renovated roads that had been repaired after a disaster that had struck the area a few months ago.

    In the ck family''s old Manor, Sirius, with a tired face from not sleeping all night, stumbled down to the kitchen on the ground floor. His hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot. He felt a pang of hunger in his stomach, but also a heaviness in his heart. When he saw Remus dining alone in the small dining room, he showed a slightly surprised expression. He had expected to see Bryan there as well.

    "Come over, Sirius," Remus smiled and said to Sirius on the stairs, "Come and taste today''s breakfast. It''spletely different from before. Honestly, I used to think that Kreacher wasn''t very good at cooking, but now I realize I underestimated him. He has prepared a feast for us."

    Sirius muttered something, rubbed his swollen and red eyes, and slowly walked to the dining table. He saw a variety of dishes on the table, such as bacon, eggs, toast, jam, butter, cheese, sausages, pancakes, and fruit. The aroma of the food made his mouth water, but he also felt a twinge of guilt.

    "Where''s Bryan?" Sirius picked up a fried egg with a silver fork and put it directly into his mouth, and said while chewing, "I thought he had alreadye down? He must be starving afterst night."

    "I think he''s still in his room," Remus rubbed his forehead with his palm, his expressionplicated. "I told Kreacher not to disturb him. You know, he''s probably exhausted. He used up a lot of his magic and energy."

    The dining room fell silent, and the two people at the table looked at each other without speaking, both guessing what the other was thinking.

    "Have you ever seen someone like him, Remus?" Sirius asked after a long time, his voice was heavy. He put down his fork and looked at Remus with a serious expression.

    "I''m not more knowledgeable than you, Sirius," Remus smiled bitterly and shook his head. He took a sip of his tea and sighed. "I''ve seen many things in my life, but nothing like him. Nothing like what he didst night."

    After discussing how to arrange Regulus''s body, Sirius stayed up all night, staying by his brother''s side, while Remus and Bryan went back to their guest rooms to rest. Remus didn''t know if Bryan was able to sleep, but he himself was exhausted, yet unable to fall asleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the scene of Bryan destroying the cave. He saw the rocks shattering, the water boiling, the fire zing, and the dark magic dissipating. He saw Bryan''s eyes glowing with a strange light, and his hands unleashing waves of power.

    "Before this, I never imagined that a wizard could have such power, nor could I imagine that a wizard could cause such destruction," Remus said, his voice low. He looked at his hands, which were still trembling slightly. "It was like watching a natural disaster. A force of nature that we can''t control or understand."

    Remus sighed and said, "It seems that we have been fighting Voldemort for so many years, and we thought we knew how terrible he was, but the truth is, Voldemort probably never showed us his full power. Because he didn''t need to. He was already powerful enough to terrorize the whole wizarding world."

    "It''s certain that Dumbledore knew," Sirius''s voice remained heavy. "It''s well known that Voldemort feared Dumbledore. During those years, Voldemort did everything he could to avoid confronting Dumbledore."

    "Yes, there''s no doubt about that," Remus had confidence in the old man with wisdom far beyond ordinary wizards.

    The two people at the dining table continued their conversation, their expressions not particrly pleasant. They had mixed feelings about Bryan.

    On one hand, although they had retrieved Regulus''s body, the truth of his death still cast a shadow over them, and they were still immersed in deep sorrow.

    On the other hand, the apocalyptic scene of Bryan destroying the cavest night had given them an indescribable shock and also made them feel a bit of fear.

    As the magical world developed in modern times, magic became more closely integrated into the daily lives of wizards. Casting spells became simple and fast. Now, wizards could not imagine how grand and awe-inspiring battle scenes that could change the terrain were.

    As they had just said, Voldemort had always avoided confronting Dumbledore head-on in those years of rampage. He had never unleashed his full fury and might.

    Thest time people in the wizarding world saw such a scene of magic destroying the world was half a century ago¡ªregarded as the battle of the century between the greatest wizard of that era, Albus Dumbledore, and the first Dark Lord, Gellert Grindelwald.

    The two former friends turned enemies shed in a legendary duel thatsted for hours and spanned across several countries. The power they unleashed was so immense that it caused earthquakes, storms, and fires, and left behind scars on thend that could still be seen today. The oue of that battle was decisive for the fate of the wizarding world, as Dumbledore emerged victorious and Grindelwald was imprisoned in his own fortress of Nurmengard.

    "Have you made a decision about Regulus?" The topic circled back to Regulus, and Remus rubbed his sore eyebrows, thinking that he should go back to his room and try to sleep againter. He had barely slept a winkst night, haunted by the memories of what they had witnessed in the cave. He felt a surge of grief and guilt for the young man who had died so bravely and tragically.

    "I know, Remus," Sirius became irritated at the thought of it. He clenched his fists and red at the table. "I didn''t say we should hold the funeral immediately. Of course, we have to wait until we''ve taken care of that despicable traitor and cleared our names. I will invite some people, but not the ck family rtives. They don''t deserve it. I want those wizards from the original Order of the Phoenix who always stood on the front line against Voldemort to know that Regulus was not a Death Eater, he was a true hero. He did more than any of us to stop Voldemort."

    Regulus didn''t receive recognition in life, but after his death, Sirius hoped that Regulus would be acknowledged by those like-minded wizards. He hoped that they would honor his memory and his courage.

    "There''s one more thing," Remus didn''t criticize Sirius''s thoughts, but spoke with a serious tone. He looked at Sirius with a solemn expression. "Before Albus left, he told me that he was going to investigate some important matters. To prevent you from trying to harm Harry again, he gave me a way to urgently contact him. I don''t want to disturb Albus''s important work, but when he returns to school, including Peter and what happenedst night, I must report to Albus. He has the right to know everything."

    Sirius fell silent for a moment and finally nodded. He knew that Remus was right.

    On the third floor of the ck Manor, in a guest room.

    Contrary to Remus''s expectations, Bryan was not sound asleep but had already woken up when the morning sunlight, tinged with golden dust, streamed through the carved ss windows. Dressed in a robe, Bryan sat at the desk by the window,zily leaning back on the high-backed armchair. His left hand rested on the armrest, while his right hand dragged the real Horcrux that Kreacher had brought back more than a decade ago. Bathed in the gentle morning sunlight, he quietly observed the surface of the Locket, with its ancient and iprehensible symbols of ancient runes hieroglyphs.

    Arge pile of books was spread out on the desk, including textbooks for NEWT-level courses published by the Ministry of Magic, as well as some ancient-looking magic books with faded covers and pages filled with worm-eaten marks.

    In order to understand the meaning of the symbols on the locket, Bryan had taken out all these books from his bag, but even after going through all the information, he still couldn''t figure it out. He had tried to decipher the symbols using different methods and techniques, but none of them worked.

    "I''ll ask Professor Babblingter. She''s an expert in this field," Bryan sighed and temporarily put the matter aside.

    Since obtaining the Locketst night, Bryan had also tried to open it. He used some less aggressive methods, such as alohomora, bombarda, and reducto, but they were all blocked by the powerful defensive dark magic of the Horcrux itself. The Locket remained intact and unscathed, as if mocking his efforts.

    If he wanted to destroy the soul inside the box, he would have to destroy the Locket itself.

    Simrly, Bryan was not willing to do so at the moment because he nned to use this as leverage against Dumbledore again.

    "How should I set the price this time?" Bryan bit his lip, feeling conflicted. He certainly didn''t want to be taken advantage of, but Dumbledore had already been emptied of his ''retirement'' funds to pay for the previousmission to capture the Basilisk. So, setting the price too high didn''t seem appropriate.

    <strong>Bang, bang, bang!</strong>

    Just as Bryan was thinking about whether to introduce Dumbledore to the concepts of "installment payments" and "loan business," the door to the guest room was suddenly knocked.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0265 Clues

    0265 Clues

    "Pleasee in¨C"

    Bryan spoke softly as he nced at the door and stood up, walking to the wardrobe. He felt the cold metal of the pendant in his hand and quickly slipped it into his pocket, hiding it from view.

    With a sharp creaking sound from the rusty door hinge, the door opened and Sirius walked in slowly. His ck hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot. When he saw Bryan, who was already awake and dressed, his scruffy face showed a hint of surprise.

    "Oh, you''re already up? I thought-, I was here to call you for breakfast." He said, rubbing his eyes.

    "I''m more energetic than you imagine," Bryan smiled slightly, his green eyes sparkling.

    "And crazier than I imagined." Sirius also smiled, a sh of admiration in his voice. He was referring to Bryan''s actionsst night when he destroyed the cave and freed the Muggle bodies that were bound by dark magic.

    "I can''t quite figure you out¨C" Sirius closed the door, turned and walked to the desk, his curious gaze wandering over the books scattered on the desk. He picked up one of them and flipped through the pages, as he casually said,

    "Sometimes¡­ well, some of the traits you have, undoubtedly belong to Slytherin, which, to be honest, isn''t very likable. But sometimes¡­" He paused halfway through his words, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows, seemingly contemting how to describe it. After a moment, he slowly said,

    "How should I put it, Well, it''s quite interesting. I mean, you''re not like Snivellus, that snot-nosed guy."

    ncing at Bryan, who was calmly smiling, Sirius pursed his lips and casually looked at the covers of some other books, speaking in a nonchnt tone,

    "Before you left, Remus talked to me about you. He said you''re actually a very kind wizard, but you like to hide your kindness inside and don''t like to show it. At that time, I didn''t quite agree.

    Butst night¡­ I have to admit, without you, it would have been impossible for me, Remus, and Kreacher to find Regulus. We would have likely died there, and you also went through so much trouble to help those Muggle souls to be freed. Anyway, I have to thank you." He said sincerely, his voice softening.

    "Heh, I''m not like you guys¨C" Bryan chuckled and walked to the table, tidying up the books one by one. He stacked them neatly and put them into his leather bag, along with some unidentified wizard''s research manuscripts.

    "I''m not as pure as you."

    "Remus said you''re a bit like Dumbledore, having great power is just one aspect, and you always keep people guessing¨C"

    Bryan''s hand froze in mid-air for a moment, then returned to normal.

    "Is that apliment or an insult?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

    The golden dust floating in the sunlight was disturbed by Sirius''s heartyughter, causing a panic. The dust settled on the furniture and the floor, adding to theyer of dust that had umted over the years.

    Sirius exined his n for how to arrange Regulus, his younger brother who had died trying to destroy one of the Dark Lord''s Horcruxes. He invited Bryan to attend Regulus''s funeral, which would be heldter. After all, without him, Regulus would have remained in that dark cave for who knows how many years.

    "Although you''re not a member of the Order of The Phoenix, Bryan," Sirius said sincerely, "you are more qualified than anyone else to be present at Regulus''s funeral."

    Bryan had no reason to refuse and readily agreed.

    Bryan put the magic books and some unidentified wizard''s research manuscripts back into his bag, restoring the neatness of the desk. Only a non-magical picture albumy on the table. Bryan stared at the bound album, slightly silent, but in the end, he didn''t pick it up. Instead, he threw it into the wastebasket next to the armchair, waiting for Kreacher to clean the room, who would naturally take care of it.

    This picture album was a Muggle tourist souvenir album. During the summer vacation, he and Cliodna, that woman, had gone to the entrance of Avalon Ind, located on the Salisbury in in Wiltshire. When visiting the Stonehenge site, in order to understand some of the historical background of Stonehenge, Bryan had spent seven pounds to buy it.

    While searching for research materials earlier, Bryan had found this discarded album in his bag. But now, the album was useless, and Bryan didn''t intend to keep it.

    He picked up the album and threw it into the wastebasket next to the armchair, where itnded with a thud.

    This action naturally caught Sirius''s attention. He squatted down, picked up the album from the wastebasket, and looked at the pattern on the cover with a puzzled expression. It was a picture of a circle ofrge stones, standing in the middle of a grassy field. He opened the album and saw more pictures of the same ce, taken from different angles and distances.

    "Hmm, is this the style of Muggle photographs? The pattern on the album cover looks familiar?"

    Bryan was stunned for a few seconds, then followed Sirius''s gaze and realized what he was talking about. However, he wasn''t surprised by it.

    "A Famous Muggle tourist attraction, the ancient Stonehenge with a long history. Maybe you''ve been there before."

    Bryan said, turning to the wardrobe and putting the storage bag into the hidden pocket of his robe.

    "Sorry, Sirius, I''m going to change clothes. Can I trouble you¡­ hmm?"

    Bryan''s exnation didn''t ease Sirius''s mind. He crouched down and picked up the album from the wastebasket, his puzzled gaze narrowing as he looked at the simple yet ancient-looking stone pirs on the cover. They were arranged in a circle, with some of them forming arches.

    And this scene made Bryan''s heart skip a beat. He suddenly remembered Cliodna''s words: this Stonehenge is broken, and the missing pirs are the key to opening the ruins. After a long time, we found one pir, but we still couldn''tplete it.

    <em>''Could it be?''</em>

    Bryan walked quietly to Sirius''s side, maintaining his calm and restraint.

    "I''ve seen this pir."

    After a long wait, Sirius, who didn''t look too good, finally gave his answer.

    "Oh, really?"

    Bryan had been puzzled and worried by the trip to Avalon Ind. He had always hoped to find Cliodna to confirm some of his spections and answer the unanswered questions. For this, he even paid a high price tomission Kakus, to find traces of Cliodna or the Druids. But so far, Kakus hadn''t provided any information.

    And unexpectedly, today, he received some clues from Sirius.

    Bryan''s eyelids twitched fiercely, and he maintained a calm expression as he asked softly,

    "Where is it?"

    "At Azkaban."

    Sirius''s tone was filled with gloom as he spoke inly.

    This answer was both surprising and seemed to make sense.

    Sirius had spent twelve years in Azkaban, and before that, he couldn''t have had much impression of an ordinary-looking stone pir.

    Without waiting for Bryan to ask, Sirius exined himself,

    "I think you''ve heard of it. Azkaban is a lonely ind in the sea. You won''t find anywhere more deste than that ind, except for the prisoners and the Dementors guarding the prison, there is nothing alive on the ind."

    Sirius''s tone was filled with disgust. He shuddered as he recalled the horrors of Azkaban, the ce that had almost broken him.

    "In the center of the ind is a spiral tower that goes deep underground. The rooms in the tower are the prison cells for the prisoners. Because of those ghosts, the ind has never had a sunny day. The only way we can see the outside world is through a palm-sized hole in the wall."

    He gestured with his hand, showing the size of the hole.

    "Most of the wizards imprisoned there have had their minds broken by Dementors. I''m one of the few who asionally remain conscious. But you know, Bryan, there are no books, newspapers, wizard chess, or any other activities to pass the time. So, being conscious is actually a greater torment for the prisoners there."

    Bryan imagined the environment there for a moment and couldn''t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Sirius.

    "Where is this pir you''re talking about?"

    "It''s at the edge of the ind, where it meets the sea."

    Sirius said gloomily.

    "There used to be other buildings at the edge of the ind, but they were probably washed away by the waves, leaving only arge area of ruins. That area is submerged in seawater all year round, but every once in a while, it is exposed to the air. At that time, you can see a pir in the ruins that looks simr to the one in this album. Of course, that pir was probably just used to support the original building, but it was fixed so securely that it wasn''t washed away by the sea¨C"

    The stone pir and ruins. Bryan squinted his eyes, his gaze bing deep and prating.

    This was a truly fascinating discovery.

    In the heart of Avalon Ind, that Greek-style, ancient and magnificent temple, with its majestic columns and intricate carvings, stood out like a sore thumb among the natural scenery. When Bryan saw it, he quickly judged that it was not the original building on the ind, but was likely moved by Merlin from somewhere else.

    <em>''But why would Merlin do such a thing?''</em>

    Bryan lowered his gaze, his focused eyes falling on the cover of the picture book. Based on the information he now had, it was highly likely rted to the Twin Serpent Staff.

    ording to the past events depicted in nine murals inside the temple, Morgan Le Fay and the dark shadow within her had intended to throw the Twin Serpent Staff in an unknown direction when they were defeated by Merlin and King Arthur. So, that Shadow used some mysterious magic, crossing a vast distance, and causing the staff to end up on a remote ind far away from the maind. After a long and arduous search, Merlin finally found the Twin Serpent Staff hidden inside the temple.

    "Why didn''t Merlin take the Twin Serpent Staff and instead uprooted the whole temple?"

    Grimmauld Square, located in a quiet and secluded area of London, after the morning rush hour of Muggles going to work, fell into a deserted and peaceful state again. The huge crack that Bryan had created in the center of the square with a powerful spell had been repaired by the Ministry of Magic''s Department of Magical idents and Catastrophes, and now it was a lush greenwn. Several sparrows fluttered their wings andnded on thewn, aimlessly pecking at the grass roots.

    "Unless¨C"

    Bryan murmured in a voice only he could hear, as a sudden thought shed in his mind.

    "Unless Merlin also couldn''t pick up the staff."

    Godric Gryffindor, one of the four legendary founders of Hogwarts, couldn''t pick up the Twin Serpent Staff, and Merlin, who had almost be a mythical figure in the history of magic, was the same. And yet, he could pick it up. Bryan couldn''t feel any pride or joy in this matter.

    He had never forgotten what happened in early November during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.

    Because of the attraction of the joyous emotions of the young wizards, the Dementors guarding the school gates lost control. They rushed into the campus, like a swarm of dark and hungry insects, intending to suck the happiness out of the young wizards. To drive them away, Bryan used the Patronus Charm for the first time against the Dementors, and what happened next, there was no need to say.

    ording to Dumbledore, the transformation of the Patronus Charm came from the influence of the soul. When he used the charm, something in his soul that did not belong to him resonated with the Dementors, causing those changes to ur.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    <strong>Author''s Note: I have been writing longer chapters of 2000+ words for more than a week now. I hope you are enjoying the pace and the flow of the story. </strong>

    <strong>Do you feel like the chapters end abruptly or smoothly? </strong>

    <strong>How do you like the transitions between the chapters?</strong>

    <strong>Please share your feedback and suggestions in thements. I appreciate your support.</strong>

 0266 Azkaban

    0266 Azkaban

    ording to Dumbledore, the transformation of the Patronus Charm came from the influence of the soul. When he used the charm, something in his soul that did not belong to him resonated with the Dementors, causing those changes to ur.

    Stone pir - temple - ruins - Dementors - Twin Serpent Staff - These seemingly unrted series of things actually had a deep connection, and the core of all the secrets was the dark shadow within Morgan Le Fay''s body.

    There was something that Bryan had been wondering about since he saw the nine murals in the temple.

    At the end of the devastating battle that caused huge damage to the magical environment centuries ago, since Morgan Le Fay and the darkness within her had already failed, and they should have known that Merlin would not show mercy, why did they go to such great lengths to hide the staff?

    <em>''What did the Twin Serpent Staff really mean? What did it mean that he could pick it up? Why did the four Hogwarts founders get involved in this matter centuries ago, and why did they leave behind clues so deliberately?''</em>

    "Bryan?"

    After a while, Sirius finally shook off the bad mood brought by the painful memories. He looked up and saw Bryan with a look of deep thought and confusion in his eyes.

    "What''s wrong with this stone pir? Are you wondering why the pir in Azkaban looks exactly like a Muggle attraction?"

    "Oh¨C"

    Bryan suddenly came back to his senses and smiled faintly at Sirius, who was looking at him with concern and curiosity, but he didn''t answer his question. This also made Sirius realize that this matter was not so simple, and the broken pir on Azkaban Ind probably hid some incredible secret.

    But that pir had been there for so many years, and the Ministry of Magic, which controlled the Dementors, had surely studied it thoroughly. The final conclusion must be that the pir was worthless, otherwise they would have pulled it out and brought it back for careful examination and preservation. It was just a piece of ancient architecture, nothing more.

    Because of Bryan''s attitude, Sirius looked at the cover of the picture book in his hand again, trying to find some clues. And at this moment, Bryan suddenly asked,

    "The stone pir in the ruins, um¡­ have you carefully observed it? I mean, does it have any special features that caught your attention?"

    <em>''Any special features?''</em>

    This question stumped Sirius. During his years in Azkaban, he had been tormented with great regret and hatred, and every day was a torture for him. He had endured the worst pain imaginable, the loss of his best friends and his freedom. How could he have the mood to study what special functions an ordinary stone pir had? And those Dementors¨C

    <em>''Dementors!''</em> Sirius suddenly widened his eyes, showing a look of uncertainty, and seeing his expression, Bryan immediately knew that something was wrong.

    "What''s wrong? Did you remember something?"

    Bryan asked in a deep voice, hoping that Sirius had some useful information.

    "I''m not sure,"

    Sirius hesitated, seemingly unsure of his own words,

    "On the ind where Azkaban is located, there are at least hundreds of Dementors. Those disgusting creatures don''t stay in the prison all the time. If that were the case, there would be no living person in the tower. Most of the time, most of the Dementors stay outside, hovering over the ind like a dark cloud. They only enter the prison when they feel hungry¡­ they take turns to feed on the prisoners.

    The Dementors made the ind look like the end of the world. They roam around the ind, in case any brave wizard dares to swim from the sea to the ind. They turned the sky into a dark gray color, blocking out any sunlight or stars. But¡­ um, I''m not sure, Bryan, but in our memories, they seemed reluctant to approach the area near the pir and ruins when they emerged from the tide¨C"

    Bryan nodded, then fell into silence.

    He thought that this was very strange. Why would the Dementors avoid that area? Was there something there that repelled them? Or was there something there that attracted them, but they were afraid of it?

    Sirius also remained quiet. He knew that Bryan might have some secrets, that was natural, as who didn''t have secrets in their hearts? But what this young wizard knew was probably something extraordinary, and he also guessed what Bryan might say next.

    In the face of this, Sirius struggled fiercely in his heart.

    Azkaban was definitely a nightmare that no wizard in the British wizarding world wanted to face. He had spent so many years there and deeply understood the prison''s reputation, which was well-deserved. It was a ce of horror and despair, where no hope or happiness could survive. After many wizards who hadmitted crimes escaped or were released from there, they never wanted to mention a word about their life there.

    Sirius was not foolish. He saw Bryan''s hesitation and, after sighing softly, Sirius said in a low voice,

    "Do you want to secretly sneak into Azkaban to see that pir?"

    Before Bryan could respond, he continued,

    "To be honest, I don''t remember the exact location there. After I escaped, I headed north towards the maind and swam for at least twenty days before I sawnd. It was a long and exhausting journey, and I barely survived. If it weren''t for the belief in seeking revenge on Peter, I wouldn''t have been able to hold on. But if that stone pir is really important to you, Bryan, I can apany you to take a look. I can roughly determine the direction based on the position of the stars."

    "Just take me to the location where younded and give me a direction¨C"

    Since Sirius had already brought it up, Bryan no longer concealed anything,

    "Azkaban is not a pleasant paradise for you, Sirius. You don''t have to risk it for me."

    "You helped me find Regulus, Bryan, and that''s worth repaying with my life--"

    Sirius smiled and said,

    "And, if possible, I hope you can treat that ind the same way you treated the cavest night. Trust me, there will be many wizards who would love to see Azkaban and those devils guarding it sink into the sea together!"

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    Only two days remained until the start of the second half of the term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The vast majority of the faculty had already returned to their positions, eager to resume their teaching duties and wee back their students. Some of the young wizards who had gone home for Christmas had also sporadically returned to school, bringing back the lively atmosphere that had been absent for two weeks.

    Bryan and Remus also returned to school on the morning of the second day before the start of the term.

    Sirius had temporarily ced Regulus''s body in the ck family''s old Manor. He ordered Kreacher to take care of Regulus and then transformed into his cat form to follow Remus back to Hogwarts.

    Perhaps the pleasant Christmas holiday had made the young wizardszy, or maybe they were still enjoying thest moments of freedom before the term began. It was breakfast time, but the Great Hall was empty, without a single student in sight. Only Professor Sprout, the head of Hufflepuff and the Herbology teacher, and Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the hospital wing, were chatting casually at the staff table. They were both early risers, ustomed to waking up before dawn to tend to their nts and patients.

    "This scene has been rare in recent years¡ª" Professor Sprout remarked, as she saw Bryan and Remus enter the hall. They were walking side by side, smiling and waving from a distance to wish their colleagues a happy new year. Professor Sprout, wearing a wizard hat covered in wet mud, chuckled and said, "I mean, having both professors of Defense Against Dark Arts appear at the same time."

    The position of Defense Against Dark Arts had been notoriously cursed for decades, ever since Tom Riddle, who wouldter be Lord Voldemort, had applied for it and been rejected by Dumbledore. Since then, no one had managed to keep the job for more than a year, and most of them had met with unfortunate idents or worse fates.

    "I''m probably not the special one, Pomona¡ª" Remus said modestly, as he and Bryan approached the staff table. Remus, whose smile had been increasing recently, looked at Bryan and said, "Seriously, Bryan, I''ve been thinkingtely. You must have some secret to staying in this position for a longer time. I quite like this job, so-"

    "It''s wise to get out early¡ª" Bryan shrugged, smiling lightly. "If I had continued back then, I might have ended up like my predecessor."

    "Your predecessor was Gilderoy Lockhart, that chatan. He deserved to be sent to Azkaban. You wouldn''t have ended up like him."

    Thinking of Gilderoy Lockhart, Professor Sprout shook her head as if shooing away an annoying fly. She changed the subject and asked Bryan and Remus about their ns for the second half of the year.

    After exchanging pleasantries, Bryan and Remus went straight upstairs. They had a lot of work to do, as they both needed to prepare for the teaching of the second half of the year. Remus returned to his office alone, where he had a pile of books and papers waiting for him.

    Bryan, on the other hand, continued walking with Tom, his loyal cat, who was actually Sirius in disguise. After arriving at the Student Safety Office, Bryan turned Sirius back into his human form, making sure that no one was around to see them.

    The morning passed in casual chatting. Bryan continued to study the stack of manuscripts rted to the Blood Magic&Curse, a dark and ancient branch of magic that he had been researching for years.

    Sirius, meanwhile, was telling Bryan about the various details of infiltrating Azkaban.

    "At the very least, we need a boat." Sirius said, sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed. He had a serious expression on his face, as he exined the difficulties of their mission. "Since you''re not willing to enter Azkaban through official channels, and I can only identify the approximate direction, it means we may have to drift on the sea for quite a long time. You need to prepare a sturdy enough boat, Bryan. For some reason, the sea around the ind is always shrouded in thunderstorms and typhoons. That''s a natural barrier. Without adequate preparation, don''t even think about getting through."

    "Then how did youe here?" Bryan asked, curious about Sirius''s escape.

    "I was using Animagus form at the time. Thunderstorms and typhoons didn''t affect me much, and I was lucky enough to find arge piece of deck washed ashore by the waves. I guess it might have been left by a Muggle ship that identally deviated from its course. Tsk-Tsk, Those unlucky guys-" Sirius said, with a hint of pity in his voice.

    Bryan nodded slightly. He understood the situation that Sirius had described. The prison was located on the sea far from the maind, in a remote and deste area. If Muggles lost their sheltering ship, they would have only one dead end. They would either drown in the water, or be consumed by the Dementors, who fed on human happiness and left their victims in a state of despair. Although wizards had more means at their disposal, such as magic and brooms, the vast majority of ordinary wizards would probably just wait to die in such harsh conditions. Only a few, like Sirius, had the courage and the skill to escape.

    Bryan knew that apparating back to the maind with Sirius was an option if they encountered extreme situations during their trip to Azkaban. However, aside from the fact that long-distance Apparition consumed high magical power, the key was that the previous long search would have been in vain.

    "I''ll consider it carefully." Bryan said, after giving it a little thought. He was not one to act rashly, especially when it involved such a risky and important task.

    Before retracting his gaze, he casually nced at the monitoring screen opposite, which showed the live feed of various locations in the castle. He gently furrowed his eyebrow, as he noticed something unusual.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0267 Luciusâ€™s Visit

    0267 Lucius¡¯s Visit

    Before retracting his gaze, he casually nced at the monitoring screen opposite, which showed the live feed of various locations in the castle. His gently furrowed brow suddenly showed a slight wrinkle, as he noticed something unusual.

    Near the Slytherinmon room, Professor Snape was standing at the door of his office, talking to a wizard with disheveled blond hair and a haughty expression. The wizard was wearing a long ck cloak, and holding a silver cane with a snake head.

    Following Bryan''s gaze, Sirius also noticed the wizard who should not have appeared at Hogwarts.

    "Who is that, a school professor?"

    "Lucius Malfoy, the current head of the Malfoy family¡ª" Bryan said expressionlessly. He had no emotion in his voice, but his eyes were cold and sharp.

    "Oh!" Sirius''s exmation was full of hatred. "It''s this guy. I know him. He''s a Death Eater. He openly advocated for Voldemort''s ideals during school. After graduation, he gained Voldemort''s appreciation for his unwavering support of pureblood supremacy. When Voldemort wasn''t overthrown, there were many clues pointing to him in the torture and killing of Muggles, but he was very cunning and good at using the power of money. So, the Order of the Phoenix could never catch him. Is he here to catch up with Snape, his old colleague?"

    Thest sentence was spoken by Sirius very naturally, and it was only after the words were spoken that he realized what he had said.

    Bryan did not escte the situation, and in fact, Sirius was not wrong. Snape did have experience as a Death Eater.

    The conversation between Snape and Malfoy probably already had a result on the screen. Bryan could see a hint of doubt in Snape''s expression, but he seemed to have agreed to some request from Malfoy. They stopped talking, and Snape led Malfoy out of the basement, where the Slytherinmon room was located. They walked up the stairs from the side of the hall, and appeared on the third floor, where Bryan''s office was.

    "Are they here to see you?" Sirius stood up alertly from the sofa and looked at Bryan, who was sitting cross-legged with his hands resting on his raised knees.

    "What do you think?"

    "I''m as puzzled as you are," Bryan said honestly. "I don''t have much friendship with Lucius Malfoy. Strictly speaking, we''ve had a bit of a feud, but I think he''s definitely not here to cause trouble for me."

    <em>''Who would have the guts to cause trouble for you?''</em> Sirius was about to say this, but a flickering electric light from Bryan''s sleeve turned him back into Tom, his cat form.

    After meowing discontentedly a few times, Tom jumped onto the sofa, cleverly maintaining the posture a cat should have.

    As expected, the office door was soon knocked on. After closing the ck curtain, which concealed the monitoring screen and the manuscripts, Bryan walked over to open the door.

    "I heard from Pomona that you returned to school," Snape said, as he entered the office, followed by Lucius Malfoy. He did not need to hide anything from Bryan, given their rtionship. He narrowed his eyes and asked, stroking his chin, "I thought you went home for Christmas. How did that guy end up here with you?"

    "We just met on the train¡ª" Bryan shrugged indifferently and said casually.

    Then, he turned his gaze to Lucius Malfoy, who was maintaining a greatly restrained posture, and his mouth curled up into a cold smile.

    "This is Draco''s father, Lucius Malfoy¡ª"

    Snape stepped aside half a body, ncing quickly at the expression between Bryan and Lucius, immediately confirming that what Lucius had told him about having some acquaintance with Bryan was a lie, but obviously, the two did know each other.

    As Snape''s gaze turned away, Lucius also cast a covert nce, and receiving the signal, Snape said somewhat reluctantly, "Lucius told me he has some private matters he wants to discuss with you alone."

    <em>''What does Lucius Malfoy want to do? Is he trying to inquire about that notebook from?''</em>

    In an instant, this thought came to Bryan''s mind.

    <em>''Because he knew I wouldn''t pay attention to him, he wanted to use Professor Snape''s rtionship?''</em>

    "In that case¡ª"Bryan nodded. "Pleasee in, Mr. Malfoy."

    Since Lucius was nning to talk to Bryan alone, although he was curious about the topic of their conversation, he couldn''t stay here now.

    Perhaps noticing Bryan''s cold and somewhat excessive attitude, Snape nced at Lucius, who was waiting in front of the desk, and lowered his voice to a whisper and said, "When I first entered Hogwarts, Lucius was the prefect of Slytherin."

    Bryan raised his eyebrows slightly, and pondered for a moment before nodding slightly, indicating that he understood Snape''s implication. He said, "I understand, Professor."

    Every detail of this office made Lucius ufortable. The reason was that it was too "shabby"pared to the influential figures in the wizarding world that he had encountered before. The walls were covered with dusty books and jars of mysterious ingredients. The furniture was old and worn, and the firece was barely lit. If it weren''t for his purpose ining here, he would have criticized it in his usual style, making some sharpments about theck of taste and elegance.

    At this moment, Lucius noticed the cat squatting on the sofa, staring at him with a gloomy gaze. The gaze was strange, as vivid as a human''s, revealing some hidden thoughts. Lucius tried to squeeze out an awkward smile at Tom, hoping to appease the feline.

    <strong>Meow!</strong> Lucius didn''t expect that his friendly gesture would somehow anger the ck cat. It immediately changed from a crouching position to an attacking posture, with its tail raised high and the fur on its neck standing on end. It hissed and bared its teeth, ready to pounce on Lucius.

    "It doesn''t like dealing with strangers." Bryan said, as he closed the door behind him. He had just finished his brief exchange with Professor Snape, who had left with a curt nod. Bryan walked into the office, and saw the grinning Tom and the somewhat bewildered Lucius Malfoy. He casually said, "Please have a seat, Mr. Malfoy. I''ll make some tea for you."

    As Bryan approached the firece to make tea, he flicked his wand lightly from his sleeve, and a swirling ck shadow appeared out of thin air. When itnded on the ground, it turned into a low-backed armchair, matching the one that Bryan was sitting on. However, this scene made Lucius Malfoy, who had shadows in his heart, immediately break out in a cold sweat and his heart raced.

    If he hadn''t been a wizard who had seen many powerful figures and grand scenes, he might have taken out his wand and prepared to fight back.

    It wasn''t until Lucius saw the cup of green tea emitting wisps of smoke in front of him that his breathing returned to normal. He took the cup with trembling hands, and thanked Bryan with a forced smile. He hoped that the tea would calm his nerves, and not poison him.

    "As you can see, Mr. Malfoy." Bryan calmly said to the pale-faced Lucius, "The conditions here are harsh, unlike the Leaky Cauldron or those high-end parties, where there are more beverage choices. I''m afraid you''ll have to make do with what I have."

    Bryan''s attitude was clearly not weing, but it was already much better than Lucius had expected. In his spection before the visit, Lucius thought that when he met Bryan, the best-case scenario would be to be driven away, and in extreme cases, be tortured in that terrifying space.

    But now, Bryan didn''t do any of that. Instead, he invited him to sit down, made him a cup of tea, which already exceeded his expectations.

    Perhaps it was because the influence of Severus Snape on this young and formidable wizard, Bryan Watson, was higher than he had imagined?

    "Your taste is very unique, Mr. Watson." Lucius said, after a moment of silence. He tugged at the corner of his mouth, trying to sound polite and interested. He said, "In Britain, most people prefer ck tea, while green tea is more in line with the habits of the Asians."

    Bryan lowered his eyes and didn''t pay attention to Lucius''s performance. He gently blew on the green tea leaves floating on the tea soup, took a few sips of hot tea, put down the teacup, leaned back in his chair, and crossed his fingers on his knees. His gaze finally locked onto Lucius'' gray eyes, that were trying hard to hide fear and humiliation, but he still didn''t speak.

    Seeing this scene, Tom put down his tail and sat on the sofa, full of confusion. He didn''t understand why Bryan was being so nice to Lucius.

    "I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Watson. I came here to apologize for our unpleasant encounter at the Leaky Cauldronst time--" Lucius said, breaking the silence.

    Lucius had mastered the skill of speaking to different people in different ways, depending on their status and temperament. He could say it was second nature to him, as a wizard who had been involved in many intrigues and schemes. He had hoped to use this skill to open up the conversation with Bryan.

    But unfortunately, he encountered Bryan Watson, who had been a shrewd businessman in this life and the previous one. Bryan had seen too many people like Lucius, who tried to manipte him with ttery, lies, or threats. He knew how to deal with them, and how to avoid falling into their traps. Now, he had the initiative, so he decided to use silence as a weapon to intimidate the other party.

    And indeed, Bryan''s calm scrutiny made Lucius uneasy. He felt Bryan''s eyes piercing through his soul, exposing his secrets and weaknesses. He fidgeted as if there were thorns hidden in the cushion under his buttocks, making him restless and ufortable.

    <em>''This won''t do!''</em> Lucius realized his predicament. If the meeting continued in the current situation, he would only be humiliated and gain nothing from this trip.

    In that case, it would be better to take a gamble.

    Lucius took a deep breath, extricated himself from his chaotic thoughts, and faced the immense pressure brought by Bryan Watson. He withdrew his hand from his sleeve and, after a moment, took out a bag that had been expanded by an Undetectable Extension Charm. The bag looked ordinary, but it contained a fortune that could make anyone''s eyes widen.

    Under the gaze of Bryan and Tom, Lucius reached into the bag and took out a ruby the size of a quail egg. The gem was crystal clear and emitted a dazzling light under the pale sunlight. It was a rare and precious stone, worth a lot of money in the muggle and wizarding markets.

    After gently cing the gem on the table, Lucius reached into his pocket again and took out another gem of the same size and quality. He repeated this action, until there were fifteen gems of almost the same size and value in front of Bryan. The gems formed a small mountain on the table, sparkling and shining like stars.

    When Bryan saw the first gem being taken out, his eyshes trembled. He was not immune to the allure of wealth, and he recognized the quality of the gems. However, he showed no further reaction and maintained greatposure, enjoying Lucius Malfoy''s performance.

    "In fact¨C"

    Bryan''s reaction made Lucius Malfoy''s heart skip a beat. In that instant, he thought that today''s visit hadpletely failed. He thought that Bryan was not impressed by his offer, and that he would reject him without hesitation. However, unwilling to give up, he said another sentence,

    "I came to visit you to seek advice on something¨C"

    <em>''Seek advice?''</em>

    Bryan''s mind stirred. He had a hunch about what Lucius wanted to ask him. It must be rted to that notebook, that he had destroyed. Lucius must have wanted to figure out what "precious treasure" of Voldemort''s he had damaged.

    But, to his surprise, Lucius''s next words made Bryan realize that he might have guessed wrong.

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 0268 Commission

    0268 Commission

    But, to his surprise, Lucius''s words made Bryan realize that he might have guessed wrong.

    "¨COr you can also think of it, Mr. Watson, as me wanting to designate you to take on mymissioned task, and these gems are the reward for the task."

    Lucius Malfoy bowed slightly to Bryan Watson, showing a hint of respect and sincerity.

    This sudden turn of events finally made Bryan react. He narrowed his eyes and said in a light voice, "You broke the rules, Malfoy."

    Last year, Bryan had epted Dumbledore''smission from Kakus. He entered Hogwarts as an investigator to investiage the Chamber of Secrets, and to stop the attacks on the students. Before entering, it was Kakus who had used his influence to persuade the Hogwarts board of governors.

    At that time, Lucius hadn''t been removed from the Board of Governors yet, so he knew that Bryan and Kakus must have known each other. It wasn''t difficult to guess that Bryan was probably a bounty hunter in the underground world.

    There was an unwritten rule in the underground world that the party issuing amissioned task and the party epting it would not meet each other to prevent information leakage and otherplications. The tasks were usually arranged through intermediaries, who ensured the anonymity and security of both parties.

    Bryan didn''t mind that Lucius had figured out a bit of his past, because he had already taught Lucius a lesson for it during theirst encounter at the Leaky Cauldron. He just mentioned this rule to test the waters, and to see how Lucius would react.

    "I have no other choice, Mr. Watson."

    Lucius Malfoy was obviously not ignorant of that ce. He had heard of this rule, but his current predicament forced him to take a risk and find Bryan.

    "You didn''t go to Kakus or any othermissioned task intermediaries. It seems that your task is not that simple, Malfoy."

    Bryan said calmly, "For Professor''s sake, I will listen to what you have to say. I hope it''s not an invitation for me to participate in your foolish n to trip Dumbledore."

    After listening to Bryan''s words, Lucius''s face immediately turned sour, as if he had bitten a rotten lemon. He felt a surge of anger and resentment in his chest.

    Last school year, his n to drive Dumbledore out of Hogwarts through that Chamber of Secrets was actually perfect. He had nted the cursed diary in the hands of that Weasley girl, and watched with satisfaction as the ancient horror unleashed its terror on the school. Dumbledore had already been officially transferred out of Hogwarts, and his reputation was tarnished. If it weren''t for the man in front of him interfering, Dumbledore would likely not have been able to turn the tables.

    However, soon after, Lucius couldn''t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Bryan gave him the opportunity to exin themission, which meant that there was a possibility of sess. However, how to speak about it was also a problem. Lucius knew that Bryan was not someone to be trifled with, and that he had to tread carefully.

    Lucius picked up the cup of green tea and took a sip. His brows furrowed as the bitter taste filled his mouth. He couldn''t imagine how anyone could enjoy this "uniquely vored" drink, but out of politeness, he forced himself to swallow the tea, but the bitterness in his mouth lingered.

    Bryan didn''t rush him, but instead waited quietly. He leaned back on the sofa, his eyes fixed on Lucius with a calm and curious expression.

    "There is something you may need to see first¨C"

    After a brief silence, Lucius finally made up his mind. His face darkened as he withdrew his hand from his robe, hesitating to reveal what he held. He knew that what he was about to show Bryan was risky, but he hoped that it would pique his interest and persuade him to cooperate. Seeing this, Tom, the ck cat, desperately gestured to Bryan, trying to remind him not to overlook the fact that Lucius Malfoy was a cruel and cunning Death Eater. But Bryan, who noticed his reminder, showed no reaction and calmly sipped his tea.

    Finally, under Tom''s vignt gaze, Lucius slowly ced what he held on the table. It was a small, ck leather pouch, tied with a silver string. Lucius loosened the string and opened the pouch, letting its content fall out with a thud. When Tom saw it, he leaped ten feet from the sofa, his ws firmly gripping the table, his fierce gaze locked onto Lucius, who was slightly surprised by the ck cat''s reaction to his actions.

    A w resembling that of a human hand, charred ck all over!

    <em>''This was a werewolf''s w!''</em>

    Seeing the ck ws, Bryan recognized them and happened to know the owner of these wolf ws.

    Things were getting interesting.

    A mysterious light flickered in Bryan''s eyes as he stared at Lucius Malfoy, who had shifted his attention away from Tom and was cautiously testing him and waited for his exnation.

    "You have probably recognized it. This is a werewolf''s w."

    Not seeing anything from Bryan''s expression, Lucius controlled his speech speed and cautiously said, "And its owner is the infamous werewolf, Fenrir Greyback."

    <strong>Ding--</strong> Bryan tapped the cup with his finger, making a crisp sound, and the tea in the cup automatically refilled with a slight tremor. He set the cup down and leaned forward, his smile turning into a smirk.

    "Fenrir Greyback¨C" Bryan repeated the name, as if tasting it on his tongue.

    "This is a dangerous criminal that the Ministry of Magic dreams of capturing. So, did you kill him?"

    "I don''t have that ability, Mr. Watson¨C" Lucius said, his tone bing harsh.

    "In fact,st summer, Greyback brought a few werewolves into my mansion. He hoped that I could use the Malfoy family''s influence to help him find someone. And this w is his mission fee''."

    He paused, hoping that Bryan would ask him who Greyback was looking for. But Bryan remained silent, his eyes narrowing.

    <strong>Meow--</strong> Hearing this, Tom withdrew his attacking posture and instead looked at Lucius Malfoy with a disdainful and contemptuous gaze. He snorted, as if he was saying, ''serves you right''.

    <em>''Voldemort had fallen twelve years ago, and now his loyal followers were starting to turn on each other? How pathetic!''</em>

    "So?"

    Bryan narrowed his eyes, his tone bing subtle. He leaned forward, cing his elbows on the table, and sped his hands under his chin.

    Without much thought, Bryan also knew who those stubborn werewolves were looking for. However, he didn''t expect Greyback to think of asking Lucius Malfoy for help. No, Lucius Malfoy found him because he knew he had a foundation in the underground world. Or perhaps, he was trying to test him through some clues?

    Both of these guesses were possible, and for a moment, Bryan couldn''t judge. But at least, he was sure that Lucius didn''t dare to confirm that he was the Golden Viper. Otherwise, he wouldn''t be so foolish as toe directly to him. Doing so would only anger him.

    Bryan decided to y along, and see what Lucius had to say.

    "¨CGreyback hoped that I could help him find the person he was looking for in the dark and dangerous underground world. This person''s name is Golden Viper, Mr. Watson. He has be quite famous - or rather, infamous - in recent years, and I believe you have heard of him."

    When saying these words, Lucius Malfoy ignored the risk of angering Bryan Watson and stared intently at those distinctive purple eyes, hoping to get the answer he wanted. However, besides the chilling abyss that seemed to swallow his gaze, he didn''t find anything.

    And upon hearing the name "Golden Viper," Tom quietly opened his mouth.

    <em>''Isn''t Golden Viper, Bryan Watson?''</em>

    Remus had called him by this name on the day he exposed his identity. Because the misunderstanding hadn''t been cleared up at that time, Remus thought Bryan was his aplice. So, He said this name himself!

    Tom didn''t know the twist and turns, but based on the information he just heard, Greyback expected Malfoy to use his family''s influence to help him find the Golden Viper and left behind that charred w as a warning. This w probably belonged to Greyback, and the Golden Viper that is Bryan Watson, turned these ws into this ckened and twisted appearance with his powerful magic.

    And for some unknown reason, Lucius Malfoy directly came to Bryan Watson, hoping he knew something about the Golden Viper?

    If this was a coincidence, then Lucius Malfoy was too unlucky!

    Not getting the expected response, Lucius was disappointed, but he controlled his emotions well and believed he didn''t reveal any ws.

    "Those despicable and lowly werewolves used Draco to threaten me¨C"

    Lucius knew that Bryan had a good impression of Draco, so he deliberately said this, hoping to appeal to his sympathy.

    "¨Cand asked me to find out the true identity of the Golden Viper as soon as possible. They forbade me from openly inquiring in the underground world, for fear that the dangerous person named Golden Viper would hear about it and retaliate. I couldn''t use some of my connections there, so I requested Cornelius Fudge to ess some secret files in the Auror Office, but there was no discovery there either. I know you have some¨C"

    "This is not the style of the Malfoy family I know, Mr. Malfoy¨C" Bryan tilted his head, smiling faintly, but his smile didn''t reach his eyes.

    "With the Malfoy family''s wealth, if you wish, you can push for the enforcement of relevantws and let the official forces go all out to strangle the pack of wolf cubs led by Greyback. You have the power and the influence to do so."

    "That is indeed more in line with my wishes!"

    Bryan''s words ignited Lucius''s anger. His face turned iron blue, filled with hatred. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

    "But if even one werewolf manages to escape the siege, the Malfoy family will never have peace. You must be aware of Greyback''s disgusting actions! He is a monster who bites children and turns them into his ves!"

    Tom stared at Lucius Malfoy with disdain. He knew about the dirty deeds Lucius did as a Death Eater, and now he had the audacity to criticize Fenrir Greyback, whose actions were as ''noble'' as his own. It was ridiculous!

    Tom turned his head and focused his gaze on Bryan Watson, wanting to warn him not to agree to any of Lucius''s requests. But then he suddenly realized that Bryan Watson was the Golden Viper!

    <em>''Interesting. What would Bryan do?''</em>

    Tom suddenly lost his urgency. He leaned on the table and scratched his beard with his cat paw, waiting with Lucius Malfoy for Bryan''s reaction. He wondered how Bryan would handle this situation, knowing that he was the one Lucius was looking for.

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 0269 Discovering Clues

    0269 Discovering Clues

    It seems that Lucius did not associate himself with the Golden Viper. His purpose in approaching me was still to help find the Viper. But why didn''t Lucius go to find Kakus Fawley?

    Even though the Fawley family had been defeated in the Ministry of Magic, they were still one of the twenty-eight sacred pure-blood families, just like the Malfoy family. These ancient families, except for extreme examples like the Weasley family, mostly maintained intricate connections and alliances. Logically speaking, Lucius''s best choice should be to go find Kakus, who was rumored to be the Viper''s closest ally in the underground world.

    Moreover, the Viper and Kakus had a good rtionship that was not a secret to anyone who knew a thing or two about the dark side of the wizarding world. After investigating the Viper for so long, if Lucius Malfoy didn''t even know this, then he was too ipetent to be a former Death Eater.

    <em>''This was indeed a problem,''</em> Bryan thought silently. He stared at Lucius with a cold and suspicious gaze, trying to figure out his true intentions.

    <em>''Oh, I understand.''</em>

    It didn''t take long for Bryan to figure out the joints. He suddenly realized why Lucius hade to him instead of Kakus.

    To prevent the Viper from hearing any wind and fleeing, Greyback must have forbidden Lucius Malfoy from openly inquiring about the Viper''s whereabouts. However, if he were to go to Kakus to inquire about the Golden Viper''s identity, it would likely leak information and alert the Viper.

    <strong>Hmph-</strong>Bryan sneered in his mind, Greyback was quite confident. He thought he could control Lucius Malfoy like a puppet, but he didn''t know that Lucius had his own ns.

    "Alright, Mr. Malfoy, I understand your purpose."

    After a long silence, Bryan finally spoke, but the words he said made Lucius, who was anxiously waiting for a response, feel cold.

    "Now, you can leave my office."

    "Mr. Watson!" Lucius''s face turned ugly. He stood up from his chair in a rush, eager to say something, but was stopped by Bryan raising his hand.

    "Leave my office¨C" Bryan repeated in an irrefutable tone. He had no intention of listening to Lucius''s pleas or excuses.

    Lucius showed visible disappointment. He desperately turned his brain, hoping toe up with a way to change Bryan Watson''s mind. But when his gaze swept across the calm expression and piercing eyes of the wizard sitting across the desk, he suddenly froze. Then, the expression of disappointment disappeared, reced by a hint of joy.

    <em>''How could I be so dull''</em> Lucius condemned himself. He realized that he had been too hasty and impatient. He should have known that Bryan would not agree to any of his requests, that was for sure.

    "Well, it''s a pity we couldn''t reach a cooperation."

    Lucius let out a sigh of relief and nodded gratefully at Bryan.

    "I''ll leave now."

    After saying this, Lucius Malfoy didn''t dy any longer and turned around to leave the office. He walked out with a confident and elegant stride, as if he had just achieved a great victory.

    <em>''Not hopelessly stupid.''</em> Bryan smiled in his mind. He withdrew his gaze from the door and looked with interest at the red gemstones the previous owner had forgotten on his desk.

    "What''s going on, Bryan?"

    After being released from the spell, Sirius/Tom, who had been watching the whole scene from a corner of the office, couldn''t wait to ask. He had a belly full of questions and curiosity.

    "You clearly rejected Malfoy''s offer to help, but why does he look like he seeded? And-" Sirius nced disdainfully at the valuable gemstones, "Lucius Malfoy has be so generous over the years, treating these gems worth over ten thousand Galleons as a gift for visiting you?"

    Sirius''s dullness in this regard was to be expected, and his question did not surprise Bryan.

    "No matter what, I cannot make any deals with Lucius Malfoy, do you understand, Sirius?"

    Sirius frowned, trying hard to think. After a moment, he hesitantly nodded.

    Indeed, no matter what the matter was, once Bryan agreed, it would be equivalent to giving Lucius a handle. A cunning and ruthless wizard like Malfoy might use it as an excuse at any time to ckmail him. Although he might not have the courage to do so openly, it was still a weakness that Bryan could not afford to have.

    "What about Malfoy''s final attitude?"

    Sirius asked, still confused. He didn''t understand why Lucius had left so happily, as if he had gotten what he wanted.

    "As the Director of the Student Safety Office at Hogwarts, it is only natural for me to take the initiative when dark creatures lurking in the sewers attempt to use the safety of the students in the school to force their parents to do things against their will," Bryan said with a pleasant smile as he collected the gemstones one by one into his storage bag.

    "Oh, you Slytherins are so cunning!"

    Sirius rolled his eyes.

    "So, are you nning to help Malfoy deal with Greyback?"

    <strong>Hmph¨C</strong>After tidying up the gemstones, Bryan snorted and picked up the charred w left by Lucius, admiring it quietly in front of his eyes. The cold light flickering in Bryan''s pupils made Sirius shiver.

    "Speaking of which¨C"

    After a while without getting a response from Bryan, Sirius asked another question out of curiosity.

    "Golden Viper is the name you used in the underground world, right? I don''t think Lucius Malfoy had any idea about it. But why did he find you?"

    "That''s a long story, to put it simply¨C" Bryanzily said, without looking away from the w. "Lucius Malfoy''s connections in the underground world are not as influential as his influence in the Ministry of Magic. Because of some previous incidents, he guessed that I was probably active in the underground world, so he directly came to find me."

    Sirius had many curious questions, such as what kind of person Golden Viper was in the underground world, what kind of grudges he had with Greyback, and how Bryan and Remus knew each other. From the tone of Remus''s previous words, it seemed that it was also rted to Golden Viper''s identity.

    Sirius wanted to voice these doubts, but at this moment, the office door was once again inconveniently knocked. Judging from Bryan''s expression, he knew that the person knocking was not Remus.

    "This is really troublesome!"

    Sirius impatiently waited for Bryan to transform him into a cat, his usual disguise when someone else came to the office.

    "I''m going crazy staying in your office all day as a cat. I''d rather wander around the yground and Forbidden Forest in my own Animagus form."

    "I won''t stop you from doing that¨C"

    Bryan waved his wand, and under a flickering spell light, Sirius turned back into Tom in the blink of an eye.

    "Just don''t cause trouble for me."

    Bryan warned him, knowing that Sirius was prone to mischief and adventure. He didn''t mind if Sirius explored the school grounds, as long as he didn''t reveal his true identity or get into trouble with other students or teachers.

    "Where''s Lucius?"

    The office door opened, and Professor Snape walked in withrge strides, followed by a displeased Draco Malfoy.

    "He left a while ago, didn''t he say goodbye to you?"

    Bryan asked Snape, feigning ignorance.

    "I was nning to talk to him about Draco''s situation!"

    Professor Snape said with a stern face. He stepped back half a step, exposing Draco to Bryan''s sight. Draco looked pale and miserable, a stark contrast to his usual arrogant and confident demeanor.

    "I can''t understand why a small setback would keep you in such a depressed state for so long, but since he has already left¨C"

    Snape looked at Bryan with dissatisfaction. It was because of his official punishment for the torturous practical ss that Draco ended up in this negative state.

    "You might as well talk to Professor Watson about your thoughts."

    Snape suggested, hoping that Draco would open up to Bryan and express his feelings.

    "I have nothing to say." Draco said dryly.

    <em>''To have the audacity to speak to me in this manner, is this still Draco Malfoy? Could it be that the insignificant setback really had such a big impact on him?''</em>

    Bryan''s eyebrows twitched imperceptibly. He stared at Draco, who was looking down at his feet, and vaguely felt that something was not right. He sensed that there was something more to Draco''s behavior than just ack of confidence.

    "Have nothing to say?"

    Draco''s response also surprised Professor Snape and made him angry. His chin lifted, and his eyes became dangerous. He was about to scold Draco for his rudeness and disrespect, but Bryan suddenly spoke first,

    "Raise your head, Draco."

    Bryan''s voice carried an unrefusable meaning. Hearing him speak like this, both Snape and Tom looked at him in confusion.

    "Look at me, Draco."

    Bryan said sternly, and under his strictmand, Draco''s body swayed like a tree in the wind. His already pale face became even more colorless, and visible drops of sweat formed on his forehead. He seemed very reluctant to do so, but under Professor Watson''smand, he couldn''t refuse, otherwise, it would seem too suspicious. He slowly raised his head, and met Bryan''s eyes.

    In the moment their eyes met, Bryan''s heart skipped a beat. From Draco''s eyes, he sensed another fleeting ''figure''.

    "What''s wrong, Bryan?"

    Snape frowned and nced at Draco, who was trembling, before turning to Bryan and asking. In his memory, this seemed to be the first time he had seen Bryan speak so sternly to a young wizard.

    And Snape''s question immediately woke Bryan up from his shock. He quickly regained hisposure, changing his serious expression to a gentle one.

    "It''s nothing¨C"

    Bryan shook his head lightly and responded to Snape''s question. He looked apologetically at Draco, who was still trembling under his gaze.

    "I didn''t expect that practical ss to cause you so much trouble, Draco. It''s been two months and you still haven''t recovered from it. If, um, do you need me to talk to you and your friends?"

    "No, Professor Watson¨C"

    Draco''s body twitched for a moment. He lowered his head and no longer made eye contact with anyone.

    "I can handle my own problems."

    "You can handle it?"

    Snape''s questioning tone was filled with anger. He couldn''t believe that Draco was being so stubborn and foolish. He couldn''t understand why Draco had changed so much, from a proud and ambitious young wizard to a depressed and timid one, like that dunderhead longbottom.

    "Draco, do you know how many professors haveined to me about your behavior in ss during this time? They say you''re like a block of wood in ss. Ah¨Cof course, after my reminder, your homework has returned to normal, but¡­"

    Snape seemed to have had enough of Draco''s behavior as a loser. Seizing this opportunity, he let out all the reproaches that had been pent up in his stomach for a while. He scolded Draco for his poor performance, hisck of enthusiasm, his istion from his friends, and his disrespect for his teachers. He hoped that his harsh words would wake Draco up, and make him realize his mistakes.

    Bryan leaned back in his chair, watching this scene unfold without saying a word. He didn''t interrupt Snape, or defend Draco. He let Snape vent his frustration and disappointment, while he observed Draco''s reaction. He noticed that Draco didn''t seem to care about Snape''s criticism, or show any sign of remorse.

    It wasn''t until five minutester that Professor Snape gasped and finally stopped talking, but when he saw Draco still wearing the same submissive and resigned expression, veins throbbed in his forehead with anger. He felt that his words had fallen on deaf ears, and that Draco had ignored his advice and his concern.

    "I think Draco needs a little more time, Professor Snape¨C" Bryan calmly said, breaking the silence. "After all, he may have never dealt with such a situation before."

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 0270 Tracking

    0270 Tracking

    "I think Draco needs a little more time, Professor Snape¨C" Bryan calmly said, breaking the silence. "After all, he may have never dealt with such a situation before."

    Snape instinctively wanted to retort, but before the words came out, he saw Draco''s shoulder tremble slightly, as if he was trying to break free from something. His heart softened, and he couldn''t help but stop.

    "Well, I hope you can try to reconcile with your friends, Draco. I hope to see a change in you before Easter¨C"

    Snape said with a gloomy face. He looked at Bryan and hesitated for a moment before couldn''t help but ask,

    "When did you be acquainted with Lucius, Bryan?"

    "It''s not really an acquaintance, just a chance encounter¨C"

    Bryan said lightly. He saw the doubt in Snape''s mind and nced discreetly at Draco, who was listening intently. Bryan''s gaze was deep and prating, as if he could see through Draco''s soul.

    "He encountered a little trouble personally, and during ourst meeting, he learned that I am good at solving problems for others, so he came to see me."

    Bryan said vaguely, without revealing any details.

    Snape wasn''t a fool. He immediately realized that Lucius must have encountered something far more than a small trouble. Otherwise, he wouldn''t have rushed into Hogwarts during the Christmas holidays and asked him to introduce Bryan. With this in mind, Snape''s thoughts turned, and he suddenly remembered something.

    Not long after the start of this school year, Draco took the initiative to find him and said that someone was threatening his parents. When he asked who did it and why, Draco remained silent.

    Later, he specifically wrote a letter to Lucius to inquire about this matter, but all he got was Lucius''s vague exnations. Because nothing unexpected happened afterwards, and then there was the incident of Sirius infiltrating Hogwarts on Halloween, so, Snape hadpletely forgotten about this matter.

    <em>''So, Lucius came to see Bryan this time, hoping that he could help solve this trouble?''</em> In an instant, Snape guessed the approximate truth of the matter.

    After a moment of silence, Snape squinted his eyes and said in a soft, melodious tone,

    "Is there anything I can help with, Bryan?"

    "Just a small problem, Professor."

    Bryan smiled and emphasized again.

    Since Bryan didn''t want to get him involved in this matter, Snape didn''t want to force it. He now understood that the student he is optimistic about no longer needed his protection. On the contrary, perhaps one day in the future, he would need his help.

    "Hmph, I didn''t expect¨C"

    When Snape and Malfoy left, Sirius immediately asked Bryan to turn him back into a human form. He was tired of being a cat, and he wanted to talk to Bryan about what he had seen and heard.

    "That Snivellus seems to care about his own house students. I bet he wouldn''t treat students from the other three houses like this."

    Sirius said with contempt, referring to Snape''s concern for Draco.

    Waving his hand to open the surveince screen, Bryan calmly watched Snape and Draco walk through the third-floor corridor, down to the first floor, and enter the Great Hall. He followed them with his eyes, not wanting to lose sight of them.

    After giving some simple instructions, Snape went to the staff table, where he joined the other professors for lunch. He looked serious and worried, as if he was thinking about something important. Draco walked towards Crabbe and Goyle, who were waiting for him with stiff steps. They looked nervous and uneasy, as if they were afraid of Draco. Draco ignored them, and sat down at the Slytherin table, where he picked up a te and a fork.

    "I have something to do outside for a while¨C"

    Bryan said calmly, turning off the surveince screen.

    "If you feel bored alone, I can take you to Remus."

    Bryan offered, knowing that Sirius would prefer to spend time with Remus, his old friend and fellow Marauder.

    "Remus is working,"

    Sirius said, declining Bryan''s offer. He understood that Bryan was trying to get rid of him, and that he wanted to do something on his own. He took a copy of the Daily Prophet from the corner of the table, admired the wanted poster that had not been removed from the front page, andzily waved his hand.

    "I don''t want to disturb him. You can lock the door if you''re afraid I''ll cause trouble by running around." Sirius said, jokingly.

    "It''s not that I don''t trust you, Sirius¨C" Bryan said cheerfully, locking the door with a casual gesture.

    During the meal, the Great Hall returned to its usual noisy atmosphere. About three-quarters of the students had returned, sitting in small groups at the four long tables, passionately discussing the uing Gryffindor and Ravenw Quidditch match on the first Saturday of the new term. They were excited and eager, looking forward to the game.

    Bryan floated lightly past the students, not disturbing anyone, because the young wizards couldn''t see the invisible Director of Student Safety Office. He moved swiftly and silently, like a ghost.

    At the Slytherin table, Miss Pansy Parkinson sat next to Malfoy, a few empty seats away. She looked sadly at Malfoy, who was mechanically eating, with a hesitant expression. Unfortunately, Malfoy''s cold reaction made her hesitate.

    Draco, Vincent, and Gregory, the three of them were the odd ones out in the Great Hall. They treated eating as a task, and there was nomunication between their friends.

    In this fast-paced environment, Malfoy and his twockeys quickly finished their lunch. Then, without wasting any time, they got up and left. However, there was a small incident when they walked out of the Great Hall.

    Harry, Hermione, and Ron came down the stairs from the other side. The three of them seemed to have had a pleasant Christmas holiday, with slightly fuller cheeks. They were walking towards the Great Hall, chatting andughing, but when they saw Malfoying towards them, the three of them immediately stopped in their tracks.

    Harry and Ron''s eyes lit up with anger, and even Hermione, who rarely antagonized anyone, red at him angrily.

    <em>''What kind of trouble has arisen now?''</em>

    Bryan furrowed his brows, standing a few steps behind Draco. He watched the scene with his arms crossed, not wanting any unnecessary conflicts to arise at this moment.

    Fortunately, a conflict did not ur. Hermione was the first to suppress her anger. She pulled the two eager young wizards away, and prevented them from starting a fight. Draco and his twockeys didn''t linger either. They walked directly down the stairs on their right and went to the basement. They didn''t look at Harry, Hermione, and Ron, or react to their hostility.

    Bryan followed the three of them all the way to the Slytherinmon room in the underground. He passed through the stone wall, and entered the dark and damp room. He saw Draco, Vincent, and Gregory, who went upstairs and entered the dormitory.

    Standing at the bedside of the three unlucky boys, Bryan surveyed everything in the room with a powerful gaze. He scanned every inch of the room, looking for any clues or evidence. He saw the exquisite chandelier hanging from the ceiling, casting a dim light over the room.

    Bryan''s feet were a few feet above the ground, floating and wandering in the dormitory. He moved around the room, inspecting and analyzing everything. He was invisible and intangible, like a ghost. The eerie green light from theke outside prated through his body, leaving no trace of light and shadow on the ground and walls.

    <em>''Not here.''</em> Ten minutester, Bryan made a judgment.

    For most of the afternoon, Malfoy and his twockeysy stiffly on their beds like puppets. Even when their roommates, Nott and Zabini, returned from the holiday, the three of them didn''t get up tomunicate with them.

    Bryan maintained great patience, "sitting" on the air, quietly waiting.

    It wasn''t until the sun set and the water at the bottom of the ck Lake turned pitch ck that the three of them sat up one after another. After tidying themselves up, they calmly walked out of the dormitory.

    When Bryan saw Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle walking into the brightly lit hall, with the ceiling reflecting the pure and mysterious starry sky ofte winter and early spring, he felt a little disappointed.

    However, he quickly adjusted his mindset and, while the young wizards were not paying attention, he sneaked two potato cakes into his sleeve. He leaned against the marble door frame leading into the hall and leisurely chewed on them. They were still warm and crispy, and he savored the buttery and salty taste.

    There were more young wizards in the hall than during lunchtime, and soon Harry and Ron appeared in his line of sight. However, Hermione did not apany them. Bryan guessed that this diligent young witch had already started her study n for the second half of the school year. She was probably in the library, surrounded by books and parchments.

    Not only Bryan noticed Harry''s presence, but also Oliver Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team on the Gryffindor table.

    "Hey, Harry!"

    The Gryffindor team captain pushed aside the chair behind him and hurriedly approached Harry.

    "Did you have a good Christmas?"

    "Except for being forced by Filch to clean every bathroom from the first to the eighth floor, everything else was fine," Harryined.

    "Oh, well¨C"

    Harry''s response made Wood a bit embarrassed,. However, after taking a deep breath, he steered the conversation towards Quidditch.

    "During the holidays, I thought a lot, Harry. Since thest match, I''ve been thinking, if the Dementorse again in the next match. I mean, we can''t afford to lose, um, of course, I believe Director Watson has effectively deterred them, but¡­"

    Wood paused, looking somewhat embarrassed.

    "Oh, about that¨C"

    Even if he had to clean all the bathrooms at Hogwarts again, Harry didn''t want to lose his spot on the team. He quickly said, "After thest match, I''ve been in contact with Professor Lupin about how to deal with them. I think¡­ I can handle it, I mean, if there aren''t too many Dementors."

    "Oh, that''s great¨C" Wood''s hesitant expression faded, and his face brightened. He pped Harry on the shoulder and smiled. "If that''s the case¡ªI don''t want to lose you as a Seeker, Harry. You''re the best we''ve ever had. By the way, have you ordered a new broom?"

    "He doesn''t need to order one, Wood," Ron finally found an opportunity to throw in this explosive news. He grinned and winked at Harry. "Harry received a Firebolt for Christmas."

    "But I can''t use it for now."

    Before Wood could express his surprise, Harry voluntarily exined the problem.

    "Professor Lupin believes that the Firebolt was sent to me by Sirius ck. It is said that he is hunting me, and throwing me down from the sky is the easiest way to fulfill his wish. Professor Lupin thinks that I shouldn''t use the broom until it has been checked by Professor Watson."

    "Did you go to see him?" Wood asked eagerly.

    Harry and Ron looked at the empty seat next to Snape at the staff table, and Harry said gloomily, "We''ve been waiting for him, but he hasn''te back yet. I wish he was as ''dedicated'' as Filch."

    Bryan, leaning against the door frame, rolled his eyes.

    "But today, when I was discussing Quidditch tactics with Cedric, he told me that Professor Watson has already returned to the school. He apparently came back early in the morning and greeted Professor Sprout while she was having breakfast."

    Harry immediately showed a surprised expression. He was about to say something, but Draco walking towards him made him close his mouth warily.

    Bryan, not caring about how Harry and his friends were nning their own actions, followed Draco upstairs.

    Draco''s pockets were bulging, containing arge package of food. Seeing this, Bryan smiled slightly.

    Along the way, the three Slytherin boys were very alert. They chose secluded routes and tried their best to avoid the asional young wizards passing by. They finally arrived at the Owlery, and hurriedly entered the dark and crowded room.

    Bryan stood on the windy corridor, bathed in the cold moonlight, with a calm and serene expression.

    <em>''Unexpected, but reasonable''</em>

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0271 Actions

    0271 Actions

    Along the way, the three Slytherin boys were very alert. They chose secluded routes and tried their best to avoid the asional young wizards passing by. They finally arrived at the Owlery, and hurriedly entered the dark and crowded room.

    Bryan stood on the windy corridor, bathed in the cold moonlight, with a calm and serene expression.

    <em>''Unexpected, but reasonable.''</em>

    It was dinner time now, and also the peak time for returning to school. No young wizard would choose this time to send a letter, but the wizard controlling them was very vignt. He supposedly instructed therge figures of Crabbe and Goyle to block the entrance, leaving only Draco inside the shed.

    Seeing this, Bryan slowly raised his floating height. He took a step out of the corridor and floated in the air thousands of feet high, letting the gusts of wind swirl his robes, standing still. His gaze, deep and unfathomable, fell on the Owlery, which was covered with attice-like pattern of owl feathers and droppings on the ground.

    Finally, besides the excited hooting of the owls due to the arrival of the night, there was a faint rustling sounding from the Owlery. A rat crawled out from the darkness under the shelves and appeared in Bryan''s line of sight.

    The rat was extremely cautious. Instead of approaching Draco in a hurry, it swiftly scurried past him like a normal startled rat and disappeared into a pile of brooms on the left side of the entrance, vanishing from sight.

    After a few more minutes, the rat cautiously poked its head out from the pile. Its whiskers trembled slightly in the air, and its small ck eyes darted around. As soon as it sensed any movement, it would scurry back into the hole it had made behind the broom pile.

    Bryan quietly watched all of this, feeling a sense of sadness and admiration in his heart.

    It was sad that this guy named Peter Pettigrew had pushed Harry''s parents into the abyss for his own safety, but in the end, he found himself in this situation. So, when he made up his mind to betray his friends and join Voldemort, what did he gain? Nothing but fear and misery, and a life of hiding and running.

    But Bryan admired Peter Pettigrew''s will to survive.

    In order to stay alive, not only did he sessfully hide his true identity as a rat by Ron''s side for so long, but now he was hiding in this Owlery, filled with owl feathers and droppings, just to survive.

    Compared to the Sirius ck before the misunderstanding was rified, Bryan believed that Peter was the more dangerous one.

    He was like a highly tolerant venomous snake hiding in a dark cave, an excellent hunter. He patiently waited for unsuspecting prey to pass by, and when the prey let their guard down, he delivered a fatal blow.

    Bryan didn''t know what fate Peter had in the original timeline, but if he had to evaluate, without the protagonist''s plot armor, a young wizard like Harry, even with the impulsive Sirius and Remus who always performed a bit unsatisfactory in critical moments, would most likely be defeated by someone like Peter.

    Of course, that''s if Dumbledore didn''t secretly intervene.

    The revered Hogwarts headmaster indeed had noble beliefs, but he was also a true schemer.

    After all themotion, it seemed that Peter had finally confirmed that tonight was safe, just like the past two months. It squeaked eagerly a few times, and then Draco took out shepherd''s pie and golden-brown pork chops from the package wrapped in a napkin. They were still hot and juicy, and they smelled delicious.

    "Today, my father visited Professor Watson through Professor Snape," Draco ''faithfully'' fulfilled his role as an informant, telling the rat everything that happened today.

    "They talked when I wasn''t present, butter Professor Watson told Professor Snape that my father was hoping Professor Watson could help solve a little trouble¨C"

    <em>''Lucius came to ask for help from Bryan Watson through Lupin. How did this happen?''</em>

    The rat, named Scabbers, stopped eating and quickly turned its small eyes, but soon it realized that it didn''t need to guess.

    <strong>Squeak!</strong> (Trantion: Tell me everything you know!)

    "--At the end ofst July, Greyback and a few werewolves broke into my house, threatening my father with me and my mother''s lives. I eavesdropped on my parent''s conversation, Greyback threatened my father with the safety of me and my mother, hoping my father could help him find a wizard named Golden Viper."

    <strong>Squeak!</strong> Scabbers'' small eyes lit up with sudden realization.

    Although it had been a long time since it was active in the magical world, when it was still in the Weasley family, it could hear some valuable information from Arthur Weasley''s mouth.

    Arthur Weasley wouldn''t discuss the underground world in front of a few children, but when he was alone with his wife, he would asionally share some information about the underground world as a topic of conversation. He had indeed heard the name ''Golden Viper'' from their conversations and knew about the conflict between him and the werewolves!

    <em>''But why did Lucius seek out Bryan Watson?''</em> Scabbers held the warm and savory shepherd''s pie in his little paw, nibbling on it while desperately pondering this question. The rich aroma of the meat and cheese filled his nostrils, but he could not enjoy it. He had been racking his brain, but he still couldn''t figure out the answer.

    As he reached for the juicy pork chop, Scabbers suddenly froze in his tracks.

    Why was he wasting his energy thinking about this? It didn''t matter how much hatred there was between that Golden Viper and Fenrir Greyback, or why Lucius Malfoy sought out Bryan Watson. None of this had anything to do with him.

    Right now, Sirius was still lurking in the shadows, watching him. What he should be worried about was how to get rid of Sirius as soon as possible!

    After hiding in the Owlery for so long, Scabbers was no longer as scared as he was at the beginning. He had grown ustomed to the smell of the owls, the sound of their wings, and the sight of their feathers. He had found a cozy spot under a shelf, where he could stash his food and sleep.

    In recent times, he had been pondering this question. Why did he have to wait for Sirius toe knocking on his door? Why did he have to fall into the hands of the Ministry of Magic or Dumbledore, instead of killing Sirius, as long as he could silence Sirius forever, he could live a safe andfortable life again!

    <em>''But how to do it?''</em>

    Just like Sirius couldn''t pinpoint his location, Scabbers couldn''t figure out Sirius''s location either. The two of them were like two hunters in the Forbidden Forest, lurking in the dark, waiting for the other to reveal their position. If either of them made a mistake, death would embrace them first.

    Draco was still standing there dumbfounded, while Scabbers scurried back under the shelf, ignoring Draco. After a moment, he pulled out a folded parchment from his hiding ce.

    Scabbers spread the hard-earned parchment on the ground and jumped onto it, carefully examining the names walking back and forth on the paper under the bright moonlight.

    Bryan, who was hanging outside the window, blinked and immediately knew what this thing was.

    The Marauder''s Map - this was exactly what Sirius and Remus had said, the marauders created when they were in school. Later, before they left school, this magical parchment was confiscated by Filch. Bryan had ordered Filch to find this map, but he found nothing.

    Unexpectedly, the map had fallen into the hands of rat Peter.

    <em>''What a talent¡ª''</em> Bryan thought to himself, with a hint of admiration and contempt. If it weren''t for a twist of fate, it would probably not be so easy to catch this cunning little guy.

    Seeing this, Bryan lost interest in continuing to look at it. He had seen enough. He raised his wand, ready to control Peter, who was looking for something on the Marauder''s Map, and the next step was to call Dumbledore back to the school to exin everything, so that the Ministry could publicly announce andpletely resolve this matter.

    However, in the moment when the wand was raised, Bryan froze. He turned his back to the moonlight, his eyes hesitated for a few seconds, and then became weird.

    <em>''This old man--''</em>

    Scabbers was still concentrating on looking for something on the map, unaware of the peril that was approaching him. With a little thought, Bryan knew that Peter was probably trying to find Sirius ck.

    In the high sky, the strong wind carried the broken clouds, and the bright moonlight gradually became gentle. It cast a soft glow on the castle, theke, and the forest.

    A drop of ck ink-like liquid appeared on the tip of Bryan''s slowly lowered wand, the liquid slowly detached from the wand under the influence of gravity, but it didn''t fall to the ground thousands of feet below, but turned into a ck tadpole in mid-air.

    The tadpole''s tail swayed in the air, creating faint ripples, it swam silently into the window, and appeared behind Scabbers under the cover of the weeds and feathers on the ground, and then, merged with Scabbers'' tail.

    And Scabbers only felt a coolness on his tail, he turned his head and shook his tail in confusion, and after seeing nothing wrong, he ignored it.

    Late at night, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle had already been sent back to their dormitory by Scabbers. He himself was still squatting in a hidden corner of the Owlery, staring intently at the map. The darkness was the best cover, and if Sirius wanted to sneak into Hogwarts, he would definitely choose to act at night.

    Since obtaining the map, he had been resting during the day and monitoring Hogwarts through the Marauder''s Map at night.

    But the Marauder''s Map was not omnipotent, just like Bryan, Scabbers knew that he had returned to the school, but couldn''t find his name on the map. He wondered how Bryan had managed to conceal himself from the map''s detection.

    <em>''These talented wizards always seemed to be able to do things that ordinary people like him couldn''t imagine.''</em> Peter thought to himself, feeling a surge of envy and resentment. Fortunately, Sirius didn''t have such abilities, or else he would have been dead by now.

    <em>''What should I do now?''</em>

    In the deep night, Scabbers no longer made such an effort to disguise himself. Hey on the Marauder''s Map, his limbs spread out, facing the hazy moonlight that filtered through the window. His ck and green eyes flickered with light, reflecting his restless thoughts.

    He needed to find Sirius and then find a way to kill him.

    And these two things were not that simple at the moment.

    Because even if he found Sirius, he couldn''t have a grand showdown with him. If that happened, it would be hard to say who would kill who. He certainly couldn''t write a report to the Ministry himself, or shout in front of those terrifying Dementors at the school gate that he had found ck. He knew that no one would believe him, and he would be captured and executed instead.

    He had to use someone else''s hand to kill ck, but it definitely wouldn''t be Albus Dumbledore or Bryan Watson. He couldn''t control either of them. They were too powerful and too smart for him. He needed someone who was weaker, more gullible, and more hateful towards Sirius.

    <em>''Hmm, the best scenario would be¡­''</em> Suddenly, Peter, lying on the ground, shivered and jumped up, as if he had an idea. He quickly darted towards the window sill, where he could see the whole view of the castle and the grounds. He skillfully slipped through the window, his small body barely fitting through the gap. His gaze prated Bryan, who was less than ten feet away from him, floating in the air and looked towards the dark forest with a pensive expression.

    He already had another n, and Bryan was no longer in a hurry. He crossed his arms and waited patiently, wanting to see what kind of trick Peter Pettigrew was going to y.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0272 The Forbidden Forest

    0272 The Forbidden Forest

    After pondering for several minutes, Peter suddenly took action. He turned around and jumped off the window sill, and ran into the shelf below in a puff of smoke, and drilled into the hole in the rock wall.

    Bryan sensed that Scabbers''s position was rapidly sinking, he probably did the same asst year''s basilisk, using the pipes that were buried in the walls when Hogwarts was founded. This was not surprising to him, it was very normal for a rat to hide in the sewer pipes.

    Only a few secondster, Bryan found that Scabbers had dropped to the first floor of the castle, and ran towards thewn.

    Scabbers''s whereabouts were now like a brightntern in the dark night in Bryan''s eyes, he dived down from the eighth floor, and easily found Peter, who was moving his limbs with afterimages, and then, like a ghost, he followed behind him.

    There was a dim yellow light in Hagrid''s hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and next to the vegetable garden heavily infested by insects, Buckbeak tucked his head under his wings and slept sweetly. He didn''t notice the rat that ran past him, nor the man that followed.

    Scabbers didn''t linger at the edge of the Forbidden Forest for too long, after roughly judging the direction, he ran straight into the vine-covered Forbidden Forest.

    <em>''Trying to escape?''</em> Bryan raised an eyebrow, his gaze following Scabbers as he quickly disappeared into the forest among the dry branches and fallen leaves.

    Now it was winter, and the magical creatures living in the Forbidden Forest were not active. A significant portion of them were hibernating in their respective habitats, leaving the forest quiet and deste. After rapidly venturing into the forest for half an hour, arge primitive vige appeared before Bryan''s eyes.

    This was a peaceful and tranquil vige, hidden from the eyes of the outside world. Many thatched round wooden houses were scattered in arge t area, surrounded by lush greenery. Centaurs with wooden spears and bows and arrows walked on the crisscrossed stone paths, vigntly observing everything around them.

    <em>''Centaur tribe?''</em>

    It was clear that Scabbers, the traitorous rat, had been here before. After confirming his position through the tribe''s distinctive markings, he changed direction and left in a hurry.

    However, Bryan, who had already marked Scabbers with a tracking charm, did not rush to leave. He leisurely observed the square in the center of the vige, where a fascinating scene was unfolding.

    There, a dozen elderly Centaurs elders were performing divination. They gathered around a zing fire, asionally throwing a handful of rat''s tail grass and hollyhock into the mes. The originally red mes suddenly revealed a mysterious green color upon contact with these herbs, creating a contrast with the dark sky. At the same time, a profound magical power was brewing in the void, making the air vibrate with anticipation.

    Centaurs have always been famous for divination in the Wizarding world. They could read the stars, thes, and the signs of nature, and predict the future with astonishing uracy. Before encountering the Druids and the four founders of Hogwarts, Bryan did not value this subject of magic.

    Because this skill required a high level of talent, ordinary wizards had no chance of mastering it. Even Professor Trwney, who taught this subject at Hogwarts, was just a "chatan" relying on the reputation of her ancestors.

    Most importantly, what you could see of the future was just a ssh in the long river of time. Your predictions might differ greatly from the actual future, depending on the choices and actions of the people involved.

    But after the trip to Avalon Ind, Bryan''s view of this subject had changed slightly.

    "Hmm, should I invite the Centaurs to help me with a fortune-telling when I have the time?" Bryan pondered.

    In the time he was lost in thought, Peter Pettigrew, the man who had betrayed his friends and turned into Scabbers, had already run a long distance. Bryan no longer hesitated and quietly followed, without alerting the Centaurs patrolling around the vige. He silently disappeared like a ghost, leaving no trace behind.

    The area where the Centaurs lived could already be considered the depths of the Forbidden Forest. It was as deep and oppressive as a prison, with tall and dark trees that gave an indescribable sense of oppression. The branches and leaves blocked out most of the sunlight, creating a perpetual gloom. In the darkness, some of the king-like creatures among the magical beasts lurked. They were at the top of the food chain and had a Magic-sense that ordinary wizards did not have. They could sense the presence of magic and life, and they were always hungry for prey. When Bryan floated past them like the wind, some of them could even faintly perceive his presence.

    However, every time they were about to follow their instincts and track him, a sudden surge of chilling magical aura and a heavy pressure made them hesitate. They quickly retreated, hiding in their dens and nests, and did not dare to make a sound.

    Ten minutester, Bryan finally caught up with Scabbers.

    Scabbers swiftly moved through the branches and vines in the forest, leaping agilely by wrapping around the trees. He was small and nimble, and he knew the terrain well.

    In this area, the ground began to undte, no longer t like a in. asionally, brown or yellow hills appeared, standing out in the ink-like forest.

    Looking back, the towering Hogwarts main castle had already turned into a faint ck mark in the field of view.

    Scabbers''s speed slowed down, disguising itself as an ordinary old rat foraging, crawling humbly among the decaying leaves, nibbling on a berry that had fallen from a tree.

    Bryan floated expressionlessly in mid-air, his gaze shifting away from Scabbers and pointing to a rocky mountain half a mile away. From far to near, he stared at the decaying tree holes at the roots of the tall trees.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    A crisp explosion suddenly broke the deep silence of the forest. Two figures wearing underground world-style ck robes appeared in Bryan''s line of sight, pushing aside the thick and imprable darkness.

    One of them dropped an already ineffective twig key on the ground and looked at theirpanion, who was dressed as a lifeless Muggle, as they walked towards the rocky mountain. They did not notice Bryan''s presence, nor Scabbers''s.

    "Stop¨C"

    The word was cut off by a loud noise, as if a barrier had been broken. When the two crossed a certain boundary, the forest suddenly became lively. Fierce-looking werewolves emerged from where Bryan''s gaze had fallen, growling and snarling. These werewolves looked destitute, with most of their robes worn and even torn, and many of them had no weapons other than their ws, not even a wand. They had been living in the shadows, hiding from the wizarding world, following their leader who had a twisted vision.

    "Where is the leader?" one of the returning werewolves asked hoarsely, his voice raspy from theck of use.

    "He''s in the cave, disciplining a fool who doesn''t want to embrace the new life¨C" another werewolf answered, his eyes gleaming with a fanatical light.

    Among the vignt werewolves, one werewolf stood on a branch of a tree, staring at the lifeless "prey" in the hands of the two, which had bite marks and signs of being eaten, and muttered discontentedly, "Another Muggle?"

    "Wizards are not so easy to catch!" the returning werewolf said angrily, defending his choice. "And if wizards go missing frequently, the Ministry of Magic will definitely take action. They will find out who kidnapped their people and send Aurors to hunt us down.."

    After a few exchanges, the wary werewolves made way, two werewolves, who wore underground world-style ck robes to blend in with the darkness, did not dy any longer. They dragged the foolish Muggle, who longed for immortality, towards the rocky mountain.

    Scabbers, the traitorous rat, hid under the thickyer of decaying leaves, with a hint of joy in its pitch-ck eyes.

    Originally, it was just trying its luck, but unexpectedly, the Greyback who threatened the Malfoy family, along with his werewolves, were really still lurking here.

    Many years ago, when Peter was still studying at Hogwarts, the four of them had ventured deep into the Forbidden Forest. Their original goal was to go to the Centaurs''s tribe for an adventure, but they identally learned from a conversation between a few Centaurs that there were werewolves lurking deeper in the forest.

    This immediately piqued the interest of James and Sirius, who were always looking for excitement and trouble. However, they didn''t reveal their thoughts at the time because Remus was also with them. They all knew why Remus had be a werewolf, and they did not want to hurt his feelings or make him ufortable.

    Soter, they found another opportunity and followed the direction mentioned by the Centaurs to reach this ce.

    Due to fear, Peter rarely expressed his own desires at the time. But as he expected, his thoughts were insignificant and not enough to change James and Sirius'' decision.

    This happened many years ago, when they had just mastered the Animagus transformation. If it weren''t for Lucius Malfoy, who had visited Bryan Watson today and let him know about the grudge between Greyback and the powerful dark wizard called Golden-Viper, he would have almostpletely forgotten about this past.

    While these werewolves disgusted Peter, he also feared their madness. He knew that they would not hesitate to kill him, if they found out who he was.

    After confirming that they were still here, Peter had no intention of staying any longer. After retreating outside the perimeter, he sprinted wildly towards Hogwarts, leaving behind the dark and dangerous forest.

    Bryan, nced at the departing Peter, then stared at a mountain standing abruptly in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, his indifferent eyes filled with a lingering chill.

    After a brief hesitation, Bryan did not approach the rocky mountain, where Greyback and his pack of wolves were, but followed behind peter.

    The return journey was faster than the way there. Just before midnight, Scabbers returned to its "cozy" little hut.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0273 Their Plans

    0273 Their ns

    <strong>Midnight, moonlight.</strong>

    The cold night wind howled in the courtyard, and the excited owls took off one by one, gliding through the air and leaving ghostly shadows on the ground. The moon cast a pale silver light over the Hogwarts castle, making it look like a haunted mansion for the muggles.

    As soon as he returned to the Owlery, Scabbers immediately took out the Marauders map from the hole and leaned on the windowsill to examine it under the moonlight. He unfolded the parchment and tapped it with his wand, whispering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

    However, his gaze scanned the paper back and forth, but he couldn''t find Sirius''s name on it. He zoomed in and out, searching every corner of the castle and the grounds, but there was no sign of his former friend.

    <em>''Where could Sirius be hiding?''</em> Peter had asked himself this question countless times in the past few days. But no matter how hard he thought, he couldn''te up with a reasonable answer.

    Staring in the direction of the werewolf camp, Peter''s small eyes showed a hint of hesitation.

    Should he continue hiding and wait for Sirius to reveal himself, or should he find a way to lure Sirius out and get rid of him? Both methods had their advantages and disadvantages, and Peter sighed deeply, unable to make a decision.

    He folded the map and muttered, "Mischief managed." He hid it back in the hole and crawled into his cage, pretending to sleep.

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    "If you don''t want to keep me in the castle, Bryan, I don''t mind staying in the Forbidden Forest for a few days. You know, my Animagus form is not easily discovered," Sirius said as he opened the office door and appeared in front of Bryan. He wore a face of sorrow and mncholy, and said feebly, "But you don''t have to use this method. I mean, starving me to death!"

    "Oh, sorry!" Bryan first looked surprised, and then immediately apologized. "I forgot about you."

    Although he was no longer a professor, Bryan still had the authority tomand the house-elves. He ordered the house-elves in the kitchen to bring a few steaks, but the diligent house-elves misinterpreted the word "few" and almost cut down the entire rack of ribs of a cow, which couldn''t even fit on his desk.

    Sirius squatted on the ground, enjoying the food on the coffee table, while Bryan sat in his seat, holding a cup of herbal tea, looking at the empty surveince wall opposite him with a pensive expression.

    This unusual state quickly caught Sirius''s attention, and he nced at Bryan, his chewing slowing down.

    "What''s wrong with you?" Sirius asked. Bryan suddenly realized Sirius''s concerned gaze and smiled, lowering his eyes.

    "It''s nothing. Oh, by the way, did anything happen today?" Bryan asked, avoiding saying anything.

    Seeing that Bryan didn''t want to say anything, Sirius visibly showed disappointment, but he also knew that Bryan was not James or Remus. He couldn''t expect him to tell him everything.

    After a moment of silence, Sirius spoke in a rxed tone, "Harry and his two friends came here after dinner today. They knocked on the door for a while and then left disappointed."

    Thinking of Harry''s respectful attitude towards Bryan, Sirius couldn''t help but feel a bit envious and a little sad. He was supposed to be Harry''s godfather, but now they were practically "enemies."

    "I guess he probably wanted me to help him identify the Firebolt you gave him," Recalling the events of the evening. Bryan nodded slightly, and said.

    "The first weekend of school is the Gryffindor vs. Ravenw Quidditch match. It''s important for Gryffindor, as if they lose, they will lose the chance to win the Quidditch Cup this year. I guess this little guy can''t wait to prove that the Firebolt has nothing to do with you."

    "Perhaps¨C" Sirius''s tone remained disappointed. "You can tell him that the Firebolt was a gift from you, Bryan."

    ncing at the self-pitying Sirius, Bryan smiled. "I won''t steal your credit. Well, he''ll probablye to me again tomorrow. I''ll help him check it out. Once we find Peter and figure out what''s going on with you, you can talk to him yourself."

    The candlelight in the office was extinguished, and only the faint glow of the dying embers in the firece remained. Sirius fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in an old robe, while Bryan remained hunched over the desk, sometimes contemting the incantation pattern of the Blood Curse, and sometimes resting his chin on his hands, lost in thought.

    Magical research was like this. Before the moment of inspiration, countless nights of "useless work" were needed.

    And tonight, Bryan clearly had no inspiration.

    It was already two o''clock in the morning when Bryan finally closed his notebook and stood up. He walked to the bed and changed into his pajamas, ready to lie down, but he realized that he was not sleepy at all.

    The Hogwarts campus in the middle of the night was filled with a mysterious and unpredictable atmosphere,ing from both magic and the centuries-old history of the castle.

    Bryan stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the West Tower ovepping with the moon for a long time. Unconsciously, a hint of sarcasm appeared on his lips.

    Peter Pettigrew was probably still guarding that map in the Owlery, trying to locate Sirius''s whereabouts, right?

    Today''s harvest was significant. He found the werewolf camp led by Greyback, and to be honest, he hadn''t expected these werewolves to be hiding deep in the Forbidden Forest.

    Were they not afraid of being wiped out by Dumbledore, or did they believe they were hiding well enough that Dumbledore couldn''t find them? If it was thetter, Bryan could only say that these wolf cubs were too naive.

    Dumbledore''s transcendent status was not only among wizards but also among half-breeds. His power and wisdom were respected and feared by many, even by those who opposed him.

    Their location was not far from the centaur tribe, and as territorial creatures, the centaurs were unlikely to be unaware of the werewolves so close to their tribe. The centaurs were proud and aloof, preferring to keep their distance from the wizarding world.

    Although the Ministry of Magic had a Centaur Office, given the degree of separation between centaurs and the wizarding world, they were unlikely to react to the situation like the Ministry of Magic. The Ministry of Magic was corrupt and ipetent, often ignoring or mistreating the half-breeds. They had no authority or influence over the centaurs, who considered themselves superior to the wizards.

    However, as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, they would most likely inform him of the situation.

    As for why Dumbledore didn''t take action¡­ Based on Bryan''s understanding of him, he would probably think that since werewolves existed, there must be a reason for their existence. As long as they didn''t harm the young wizards in the school, he didn''t mind giving them a certain space to survive, just like the underground world in Knockturn Alley. There were plenty of heinous dark wizards there, but as long as they didn''t challenge the stability of the Wizarding world, Dumbledore wouldn''t actively exterminate them.

    But Bryan didn''t let go of the ns of these werewolves. The reason he didn''t immediately wipe them out today was mainly because of Peter Pettigrew.

    What Peter Pettigrew nned to do was not difficult to guess.

    He wanted to use the werewolves to attack Sirius, either by luring him into a trap, or by ambushing him in his hiding ce.

    Actually, Bryan could ignore this guy''s internal calctions and directly control him, bring him back to Dumbledore, and send him to the Ministry of Magic for trial.

    However, before taking action, a previous request from Dumbledore came to his mind, causing him to temporarily hold back.

    It was in early November when his Patronus encountered a Dementor and underwent a transformation. He had a conversation with Dumbledore, and at the end of that conversation, Dumbledore hoped that if Bryan discovered Sirius''s whereabouts during his absence from the school, he could involve Harry and his friends to some extent.

    Bryan knew that Dumbledore hoped to use this to train Harry, to prepare him for the inevitable confrontation with Voldemort, but the process of catching Sirius didn''t provide much opportunity for Harry to be tested. And after discovering that Sirius was innocent, he had to give up.

    But now, Sirius was hiding nothing in his eyes, and the danger was within his control. Bryan thought that it might be a good opportunity to let these three kids experience something.

    Perhaps it was the cold wind blowing in through the open window,bined with the twelve years of imprisonment, Sirius slept restlessly on the couch, furrowing his brows. Sometimes his face was filled with anger, and sometimes he apologized in his dreams. It was easy to imagine who appeared in his dreams.

    "Then let''s y together¨C" Bryan turned around with a smile and walked towards his bed. But suddenly, he frowned with a strange look on his face.

    "Why do I feel like I''m bing more and more like an old man?"

    <strong>*SceneBreak*</strong>

    On the day before the start of the school year, Bryan''s office suddenly became lively. Early in the morning, Filch appeared outside his door, holding some files that Professor McGonagall had ordered him to bring for approval or filing, including some personal requests from Argus himself.

    "This is my request, Professor. I hope you will consider it," Filch said in a raspy voice.

    "I cannot agree to you using whipping as a punishment for the young wizards who vite school rules, Argus," Bryan said gently, sping his hands together and standing in front of Argus.

    He looked at the file, and he saw that Filch had written a long and detailed proposal, in which he argued that whipping was the most effective and appropriate way to discipline the students. He had listed several examples of how whipping had been used in the past hundreds of years ago, and how it had improved the behavior and performance of the students. He had also attached several pictures of whips, and how they could be used in different ways.

    "You should know that these ancient punishments are no longer appropriate in the present. They are prohibited by the Ministry of Magic, and even Dumbledore would not make such a decision," Bryan continued.

    He exined to Filch that whipping was a barbaric and inhumane practice, that it vited the rights and dignity of the students.

    Filch nodded disappointedly and walked out of the office without saying a word. But as soon as he stood in the corridor, he immediately changed his expression and excitedly clenched his right fist and mmed it against his left palm.

    Of course, Filch knew that Director Watson would not approve his request. It was just a temporary measure to divert Director Watson''s attention and make him forget about the parchment. And it turned out that his n was sessful. Director Watson did not mention anything about Argus failing to properly secure that thing confiscated from the young wizard!

    "This old lunatic!" Sirius, who had transformed back into his human form, said with disgust. "He always has a problem with those adventurous kids."

    "That''s not entirely fair, Sirius. Argus loves this school as much as anyone else," Bryan said casually while flipping through the files.

    "Without Argus, you would find the corridors of the castle filled with the stench of dung bombs from those energetic young wizards. I think you should be well aware of what mischief they can get up to."

    Sirius rxed his furrowed brows and innocently shrugged, no longer concerned with Argus''s wild ideas.

    Not long after, the office door was knocked loudly. When it was opened, Hagrid squeezed in wearing his mole-skin coat and carrying a small red umbre.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0274 The Firebolt

    0274 The Firebolt

    Not long after, The office door was knocked loudly, startling Bryan from his work. He got up from his desk and opened the door, only to see Hagrid squeezing in through the narrow gap. The half-giant was wearing his shabby mole-skin coat and carrying a small red umbre that looked like a toy in his huge hand.

    "Oh, Professor, are you really not considering getting a bigger door?" Hagrid grumbled, ducking his head to avoid hitting the ceiling.

    "Nobody else has a problem with my door frame except for you, Hagrid," Bryan replied with a helpless smile.

    Hagrid chuckled heartily, his bushy beard shaking. He handed over a piece of parchment with crooked handwriting, that looked more obscure than the ancient runes on Slytherin''s locket and Ravenw''s diadem. Bryan squinted his eyes to read the words.

    "I need to purchase some medicine to ward off the Flesh-Eating Slugs, Professor. These nasty guys have been wreaking havoc in the vegetable patch all winter," Hagrid exined, his brown eyes shining with concern. "They''ve eaten half of my pumpkins and cabbages, and they''re not even picky about the rotten ones."

    "It''s rare to find magical creatures that annoy you, Hagrid," Bryan joked. Then, after struggling to decipher the parchment for a while, he signed his name on the requisition form without hesitation.

    "Thank you, Professor," Hagrid nodded gratefully. "I need to hurry to Professor McGonagall''s office to collect the money. Hopefully, I can catch the 9 o''clock train and make it to tonight''s dinner!"

    As Hagrid turned to leave, he muttered under his breath, "Why don''t wizards build a bigger firece?" He hated traveling by Floo powder, as he often got stuck in the chimneys or ended up in the wrong ces.

    Amused by hisint, Bryan smiled and prepared to continue his work. He had a pile of tedious files to go through, mostly rted to the school budget and the Ministry regtions. But before Hagrid left, he remembered something, "Wait, Hagrid."

    "Is there something you need me to do for you?" Hagrid asked, turning around with a hopeful expression.

    "Not really," Bryan shook his head. "Actually, I wanted to ask about Buckbeak. Do you have any leads now?"

    To be honest, Hagrid was surprised by this question. It was the first time Director Watson had inquired about Buckbeak since the incident. He had expected him to be too busy or too indifferent to care. But when it came to the matter, Hagrid''s furry face immediately turned gloomy. He sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging.

    "The Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures has scheduled Buckbeak''s hearing for mid-March. I''m preparing the materials, but to be honest, I''m not very good at this. Luckily, Hermione helped me write some things during the holidays," Hagrid said, his voice tinged with sadness.

    Bryan nodded slightly, lowering his head to ponder for a moment before speaking, "But I''m sure you''re well aware, Hagrid, that this is not a matter of right or wrong. The Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures is unlikely to strictly follow the rules. Lucius Malfoy is just taking his anger out on you."

    "I understand, Professor, but I¡­" Hagrid''s eyes moistened, his voice filled with a heavy nasal tone. "I can''t give up on that child. It''s because of me. I thought he could be friends with the little ones, that''s why I convinced him to participate in my ss."

    Hagrid was very fond of Buckbeak, the proud and majestic hippogriff that he had raised from an egg.

    "Hagrid, is still the same," After Hagrid left, Sirius, who had been holding back, didn''t miss the opportunity to express his opinion.

    "Crookshanks told me about that Hippogriff. Why can''t he secretly set Buckbeak free? As long as there''s no evidence, with Dumbledore here, the Ministry can''t do anything to him!"

    "I understand your point, Sirius, but Hagrid is probably afraid of breaking thew because of his past expulsion," Bryan said as he stood up. He was ready to temporarily set aside the pile of tedious files and enjoy a delicious breakfast in the Great Hall.

    "But if you want to resolve this matter, it''s actually not difficult, is it?" Sirius revealed his intentions. He had a cunning and mischievous smile on his face, reminiscent of his younger days as a prankster. "Malfoy, that bastard, is asking you for a favor. Maybe if you give him a message, he''ll immediately withdraw theint."

    "I don''t deny that," Bryan nodded. He knew that Malfoy was afraid of him, "But I don''t want to help Hagrid solve the problem in that way. It wouldn''t be of any help."

    Sirius was about to say something else, but before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself transformed into a cat again, and the office door coincidentally made a sound.

    Harry, Hermione, and Ron barged into the office, but they were not alone. The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, as well as the residents of Harry''s dormitory, crowded the corridor, but none of them followed them into the office.

    "I heard you were looking for me everywhere," Bryan said with a smile as he looked at the three young wizards who were visibly pleased to see him. He noticed the sleek and shiny broomstick that Harry was holding in his hand. "I hope it''s because you missed me and not because of the Firebolt in your hands."

    Harry scratched his head and sheepishly smiled. He felt a bit guilty for bothering Bryan with such a trivial matter, "Oh, you already heard about it?"

    After greeting Bryan, Hermione couldn''t wait to share her thoughts. "Besides you, who would give Harry a top-quality Flying broomstick for no reason? I mean, this is not an ordinary broomstick. Its value is higher than all the broomsticks owned by the entire Gryffindor teambined."

    "That''s not necessarily true, Hermione!" Ron immediately objected. "Harry is famous, and he has more fans than Lockhart!"

    At the Mention of that chatan Gilderoy Lockhart, Hermione''s face turned red. Her admiration for him was one of the few "stains" she couldn''t remove from her otherwise impable record.

    Harry was used to Hermione and Ron''s daily quarrels. He had seen them argue and bicker countless times, over everything from homework to house-elves. Seeing that Bryan had already expressed his intention, he handed over the Firebolt directly. Looking at Bryan, who was stroking the Firebolt''s glossy white ash handle, his eyes were full of expectation.

    The Firebolt was indeed an excellent flying broom. Not to mention its exquisite materials, just its ingenious magic loop design inside made Bryan feel a bit of admiration. He had seen many broomsticks in his life, but none of them couldpare to the Firebolt. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship and enchantment, a perfectbination of beauty and functionality. He examined it carefully, looking for any signs of tampering or damage.

    "I don''t see any problem with this broomstick, Harry. Personally, I believe it is safe," Bryan said, after finishing his inspection. He handed back the Firebolt to Harry, with a reassuring smile.

    Not only in the office but also in the corridor, a burst of enthusiastic cheers erupted after Bryan spoke. The Gryffindors who had been waiting outside the door, holding their breaths, were ecstatic to hear that Harry could keep his Firebolt. They knew that it would give them a huge advantage in the uing Quidditch matches, and they were confident that they would win the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup this year.

    "I knew it would be like this!" Oliver Wood eximed excitedly, waving his fist in the air. "I want to see who will stop us from winning the championship this year!"

    "Show us what you''ve got on the pitch, Harry!" Alicia Spi shouted from outside the office.

    "I''m not questioning your skills, Professor," Hermione said, scrutinizing Bryan with furrowed brows. She seemed dissatisfied with his conclusion. "But this is indeed a suspicious matter, isn''t it? Who would spend a year''s sry to buy such a broomstick for Harry?"

    "Oh,e on!" Ron retorted, trying to strike back at Hermione. "You just have to prove that your opinion is never wrong, don''t you?"

    After the three of them left the office, still arguing, Sirius immediately asked in an eager tone, "Can I go watch Harry train? Being stuck in your office all the time feels like being in Azkaban!"

    "Of course, no problem," Bryan replied with a smile that carried a mysterious meaning. "I don''t intend to keep you confined in the office all the time. If you find it too boring here, you can wander around the Forbidden Forest for a few days. Hmm, I don''t need to help you with your disguise. Your Animagus form is already perfect. Of course, a dog that size would attract attention on campus. It would be even better if you could control your size."

    "Deal!" Sirius said happily. "Size is not a problem. I can handle it myself."

    Sirius transformed into hisrge ck dog form and then, with a grating sound of bone joints, turned into a small puppy about the size of a stool. He wagged his tail at Bryan, and then leaped out of the automatically opened door, full of joy.

    As Bryan gazed at Sirius''s disappearing figure, perched on the edge of the desk, he suddenly hooked his fingers in a thoughtful manner. In the void, there was a sudden sound of a broken chain.

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    The weather in January was still dominated by cold and dampness, but the young wizards rushing to the Quidditch pitch didn''t care about the howling wind that whipped their faces and cloaks. They gathered in a circle, with Harry eagerly at the center, clutching his new broom.

    Wood looked at Harry''s broom with fanatical admiration in his eyes, and then said impatiently, "Get a feel for it, Harry! This is the best broom in the world!"

    Despite the lingering shadow of Sirius ck''s presence, despite having to clean half the castle''s bathrooms during the Christmas holidays due to Malfoy''s betrayal, despite the mystery surrounding the broom''s origin, Harry''s mood was still incredibly joyful. Nothing could disturb him.

    He was finally going to ride this Firebolt into the sky!

    Since receiving the broom, Harry had fantasized about this moment every night. And now, his dream was finallying true. He didn''t want to wait another second. As soon as Wood gave themand, Harry kicked off and soared into the air like a ghost.

    The feeling was even more wonderful than he had imagined. With a gentle touch, the Firebolt responded. It seemed to obey his thoughts, not just his control.

    Harry rode the firebolt across the pitch at an incredible speed, turning the stands into a blur of green and gray. Even with his dynamic vision, in the full throttle of the Firebolt, he could barely distinguish the faces of the people on the ground. He felt the wind rushing past his ears, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and the exhration filling his heart.

    Suddenly, a group of people rose from the ground. It was the Gryffindor team members, ascending into the air one by one under Wood''smand. They wore red and gold robes, and carried their own brooms, which looked dull and ordinarypared to Harry''s Firebolt.

    Quidditch was not a game that could be won by one person alone. The entire Gryffindor team had to adapt to Harry''s increased strength due to the Firebolt. They had to learn how to coordinate with him, how to support him, how to follow his lead.

    Butpared to Harry''s speed, everyone else seemed slow as a snail.

    Harry flew like a meteor falling from the sky, inserting himself into the Gryffindor team''s practice formation. He "fell" from the front of Alicia Spi, who was ying as a Chaser, causing her to scream. Then, Harry began to control his speed and angle. He showed off his agility and precision, making sharp turns, loops, and dives. Finally, when he was five feet from the ground, the broom and the ground were parallel. He skimmed the grass, leaving a trail of dust behind him. Then, he swiftly ascended again, reaching thirty feet, forty feet, fifty feet¨C

    "This move is not something an ordinary yer can do!"

    Ron was excited beyond words. He looked at the figure in the air with envy, imagining himself flying so gracefully one day.

    "He should be more careful!"

    Hermione''s expression was less pleasant. She covered her wind-blown hair and frowned, saying disapprovingly, "Harry is getting a bit too excited, isn''t he? As for this broom, in my opinion, Professor Watson shoulde and keep an eye on him. If, and I say IF, his judgment is wrong, at least there would be a chance to remedy it!"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0275 Performance

    0275 Performance

    No one paid attention to Hermione''sint. They were all immersed in Harry''s magnificent flying skills. They cheered, pped, and whistled, as Harry performed one amazing stunt after another.

    "Harry, I released the Snitch!"

    When the time was right, Wood shouted into the sky.

    Upon hearing the call, Harry dived down again. This time, he passed through the middle of Fred and George who were flying side by side, ying as Beaters. The golden Snitch that was fluttering like a shadow didn''t have time to speed up, and was firmly caught by Harry.

    The Quidditch pitch erupted in a frenzy of cheers. Fred and George pped their hands and shouted, "Do it again, Harry!"

    Harryplied. He let the Golden Snitch slip from his fingertips and let it circle around the Quidditch pitch. Then, he quickly caught up to it, using an S-shaped maneuver to pass several teammates in front of him. Finally, he sharply raised the broom, and in a jumping arc, he whizzed past Katie Bell''s head. She was another Chaser, and she gasped as Harry flew by. In the end, he caught the Golden Snitch behind the goalpost, where Angelina Johnson, the third Chaser, and Oliver Wood, the Keeper, were waiting for him.

    Under the dark sky, with distant white snow-capped mountains and towering goal hoops as his backdrop, Harry turned on his Firebolt, raised his right hand holding the Golden Snitch, and looked down at the pitch like a Quidditch King.

    At this moment, apart from the cheers, there was no other discordant sound on the field. The wind had died down, and the sun had peeked out from behind the clouds, casting a warm light on the Quidditch pitch.

    "He flies really well. At least, Malfoy can''tpare to Harry."

    Hermione pped her hands and said calmly. She had been worried about Harry''s safety, but seeing him fly so skillfully and confidently, she couldn''t help but feel proud of him.

    "That slimy git can''t fly as fast as Hedwig!"

    Ron, whose palms were red from pping, cheered and squeezed through the Gryffindor yers who werending one by one, ready to ask Harry if he would let him try the Fireboltter.

    "From what I see, nothing can stop us from winning!"

    Wood said firmly, his tone even more resolute than when he was outside Professor Watson''s office. He had been the captain of the Gryffindor team for six years, and he had never seen such a perfect performance. He was sure that this year, they would finally win the Quidditch Cup.

    "I bet, Harry," Fred patted Harry''s shoulder appreciatively and said, "Even the Dementors can''t catch up to you."

    This was the best training session ever. The appearance of the Firebolt greatly inspired the team members, and even Wood, for the first time, didn''t find any faults with them. He praised them for their teamwork, their uracy, and their speed.

    "Can I try the Firebolt too, Harry?"

    Harry''s roommate, Seamus, asked eagerly, as he walked over to Harry, who was still holding his broom.

    Quidditch, as the most popr sport in the wizarding world, was not an empty im. It''s just that Harry''s exceptional talent made his peers pale inparison. But in fact, most of his ssmates had secretly practiced Quidditch, hoping to join the team someday, or at least to have some fun.

    "Hey, mate!"

    Ron red at Seamus discontentedly, as he reached Harry''s side.

    "Harry and I already agreed. You have to line up behind me."

    "No one is allowed to touch this broom until the game between us and Ravenw is over!"

    Wood''s voice was stern as he prohibited their request. He had overheard their conversation, and he was not amused. He walked over to Harry, and took the Firebolt from his hands.

    Wood was desperate for the Quidditch Cup. He couldn''t allow any unexpected incidents to jeopardize Gryffindor''s biggest chance of winning. Even if the Firebolt wasn''t his, even if the request came from Harry''s roommate, he couldn''t be swayed. He had to protect the broom, and Harry, from any harm.

    Faced with Wood''s prohibition, Harry could only innocently shrug at Ron and Seamus, who were disappointed. He understood Wood''s concern, and he didn''t mind giving up his broom for a while. He knew that Wood would return it to him before the match, and he trusted him to take good care of it.

    To witness the Firebolt''s brilliance, the Gryffindor wizards hadn''t even had breakfast. They had skipped the most important meal of the day, and they were starving. After Wood announced the end of the training, they walked back to the castle in groups of three or two, chatting andughing. Afterforting Ron for a few moments, Harry also prepared to go to the Great Hall to find something to eat and fill his stomach. But as the excitement of his dreaming true faded, he suddenly felt something strange, as if someone was watching him.

    Following the direction of the strange feeling, Harry turned his head and immediately showed a surprised expression. He stopped in his tracks, and looked at the bottom step of the stands, where two figures were sitting.

    "What''s wrong?"

    Hermione, who had always been skeptical of the Firebolt, immediately noticed Harry''s unease. She followed Harry''s gaze and raised her delicate eyebrows when she saw the two figures on the bottom step of the stands.

    It was Crookshanks, squatting on the stands and looking in their direction. And, it wasn''t alone. There was a dog about the same size as Crookshanks squatting next to it.

    "Crookshanks, did you sneak away from Hagrid''s ce again?"

    Realizing what was happening, Hermione happily ran over.

    Ron was thest to notice the two small animals by the pitch. When he saw Crookshanks, his face darkened. He reluctantly walked over behind Harry, muttering, "Last time it was that cat named Tom, and now I don''t know where it found this dog. This beast is quite good at finding friends for itself. Why can''t it give Scabbers a chance to live?"

    Harry and Ron approached the bottom of the stands, where Hermione was already holding Crookshanks in her arms, affectionately stroking its furry head. Crookshanks purred loudly, and rubbed his face against Hermione''s cheek. He seemed to be very happy to see her.

    Ron watched all of this with cold eyes. As for Harry, his attention wasn''t on Hermione and her cat. Instead, he was staring at the small ck dog crouching on the steps.

    <em>''It''s really strange.''</em> Harry thought to himself. ''<em>Why does this dog look familiar? And the way It looked at him¡­ hmm, pleased?''</em>

    "Oh, Crookshanks!" Hermione rubbed the ginger cat''s head, looking a bit guilty but still smiling. "How have you been at Hagrid''s, Crookshanks?"

    <strong>Meow--</strong> Crookshanks purred and licked his paw, then rubbed his furry face against Hermione''s hand.

    Seeing that Crookshanks showed no sign of ming her, Hermione felt even more guilty. She took a deep breath, as if gathering her courage, and then turned to look at Ron, who was standing with Harry.

    "Ron, I think it''s time for Crookshanks to go back to living in the castle. You can''t¨C"

    Hermione couldn''t finish her sentence because Ron clearly understood what she meant and his face immediately turned sour. He crossed his arms and red at her.

    "What do you two think¨C"

    Harry interrupted, pointing at something behind Hermione. She turned around and saw a slightly ufortable little ck dog sitting on the steps leading to Hagrid''s hut.

    "Where did Crookshanks find this puppy?" Harry asked, puzzled.

    Because of Crookshanks, the atmosphere between Hermione and Ron became a bit awkward. Neither of them answered Harry''s question right away. It wasn''t until a whileter that Hermione sniffed and suppressed her emotions, saying,

    "It''s hard to say, Harry. Maybe Hagrid thought Fang was feeling a bit lonely, so he found this dog somewhere."

    "Maybe we can go ask Hagrid." Harry suggested, looking around for the half-giant gamekeeper.

    Ron and Hermione both looked at Harry, surprised by his reaction. The little ck dog crouching on the steps seemed reluctant to go to Hagrid''s. It tried to escape, but its agility was clearly not as good as Harry''s. Harry was quick and nimble, thanks to his Quidditch skills. He caught the dog as soon as it jumped off the steps and couldn''t move.

    Harry handed the Firebolt hidden under his armpits to Ron, who took it with awe, held the ck dog in his arms, and ran towards Hagrid''s hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The dog whimpered and struggled, but Harry didn''t let go.

    Although Ron and Hermione were a bit puzzled, but seeing Harry so decisive they could only follow him.

    The closed door of the hut exined everything. Hagrid was not there. Harry looked a bit disappointed, but he still didn''t give up and looked around. As a result, he found Fang, Hagrid''s boarhound, ying with wild goblins in the grasnd to the west of the hut.

    "Hey, Fang!" Harry called out loudly, and when Fang heard his voice, he immediately gave up ying with the unlucky goblin and happily ran over, wagging his tail. He licked Harry''s face, making himugh.

    "Where''s Hagrid?" Harry asked, patting Fang''s head. "Is he patrolling in the Forbidden Forest?"

    Fang shook his head, his eyes looking towards the direction of the school gate. He barked, as if trying to tell Harry something.

    "It seems Hagrid is out¨C"

    Ron and Hermione caught up from behind at this time. They were out of breath, and their faces were red. Seeing this scene, Ron shrugged meaninglessly. He didn''t care much about Hagrid or the dog. He was more interested in the Firebolt, which he still held in his hands.

    "You seem to care a lot about this dog, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously, looking at the dog in Harry''s arms. The dog looked nervous and scared, as if it sensed something was wrong. "Is there something wrong with it?"

    "I can''t say for sure, Hermione¨C"

    Harry hesitated, not sure how to exin his feelings.

    "But I feel like I''ve seen it somewhere before. Hmm, it gives me a very familiar feeling."

    "Maybe it''s just your imagination, Harry¨C"

    Ron yed with the Firebolt that Harry had thrown to him, his eyes scanning the smooth white waxed handle and the perfectly trimmed branches and casually said,

    "Or maybe you saw it in Hogsmeade. You know, the vigers who live there like to keep dogs. They can help with hunting and guard the house¨C"

    "You''re right, Ron."

    Harry agreed, nodding his head. He pursed his lips and put the frightened little Sirius on the ground. They were now in the Hogwarts campus, and if Harry really found any clues and screamed, Sirius couldn''t be sure whether it was Bryan,ing fast or the Dementor, the soul-sucking guard, guarding the school gate. Those terrifying creatures wouldn''t listen to his exnation.

    "So, what do we do now, Harry? Are you going to leave it here or take it back to the castle?" Hermione asked, looking at the dog with concern.

    "Never mind¨C"

    Harry said, shaking his head. He didn''t like dogs, and he didn''t want to get involved with them. He also didn''t want to get detention from Filch, before the first Quidditch match of the school year.

    "Let''s leave it here then. Hagrid will take good care of it," Hermione said, "It''s Crookshanks''s ymate."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0276 Preparations and Leaving

    0276 Preparations and Leaving

    The matter of the little ck dog was just a small incident for Harry and his friends. They had no idea that the dog was actually Sirius ck. Tomorrow was the first day of school, and most of their ssmates had returned to Hogwarts. The castle was buzzing with excitement and anticipation, as the students prepared for the new term. Harry was especially eager to start the Quidditch season, and finally use his own Firebolt. Even if ck stormed into the castle at this time, it couldn''t spoil his good mood.

    After handing Crookshanks over to Fang, the three of them turned and walked towards the castle. Little Sirius, who was scared by Harry, finally breathed a sigh of relief. He tilted his head to avoid Fang''s tongue, and looked at the Forbidden Forest, where distant howls asionally sounded. His gray eyes showed the excitement of regaining his freedom.

    He didn''t notice that, a panoramic telescope the same color as the air hovered in the sky above Hagrid''s vegetable garden. Seeing Harry return to the castle and Sirius rushing into the Forbidden Forest, the panoramic telescope circled in the air like an eagle for two rounds, and finally, it soared sharply towards the West Tower.

    The clouds rolled and the moon rose and set. In the dark castle, the bright candlelight shone through the windows, along with theughter and joy that lingered in the campus, making the deep night bright. The students and the teachers had gathered in the Great Hall to celebrate the start of the new term.

    Tonight, it was the first night since Halloweenst term that all the students and the teachers gathered in the Great Hall to celebrate. Dumbledore still hadn''t returned, and if someone wanted to sneak into the castle, it was a perfect opportunity for Sirius.

    Peter sat early on the live map, showing no interest in the crowded castle filled with names. His vignt gaze only patrolled around the perimeter of the map. But until the little wizards left the hall one by one, and the lights in the dormitories went out one by one, he still had no gain.

    <em>''Could it be that Sirius really gave up on revenge?''</em>

    In the quiet night, Peter stared at the full moon hanging high in the sky, his eyes also showing a hint of confusion.

    <em>''No, it couldn''t be like this!''</em>

    But after a moment, Peter said to himself in his mind. He shook his head, and dismissed his doubts.

    He knew what kind of person Sirius was, and someone like him would never give up easily in the face of difficulties. The more likely situation in the current circumstances was that twelve years of imprisonment had made Sirius more patient, no longer as impulsive and reckless as before.

    And this change in Sirius was undoubtedly dangerous for him.

    Peter sighed, throwing away those ''naive'' fantasies from his mind, and lowered his head to continue examining the map.

    Flich was pacing in the corridor on the second floor, Snape left Remus''s office, and was heading to the Slytherin''s dungeon from the entrance hall. Professor McGonagall was walking from the staff washroom to her office, and Hagrid and Fang, who were patrolling in the courtyard, were also preparing to return to the hut.

    Peter''s gaze followed Hagrid and his dog back to the hut, and then he turned his head to look towards the direction of the school gate. But suddenly, a name that appeared behind the hut made Peter''s body tremble, and a gleam of light burst out of his small ck eyes!

    <strong>Third Floor of the castle, Student Safety Office</strong>

    Leaning on the back of the chair, Bryan stared at the wall opposite, where hundreds of small screens spliced out the only picture. His mouth curled up, showing a slight smile.

    "So, what are you going to do, Peter?"

    <strong><<<<<<<<<<*Scenebreak*>>>>>>>>>></strong>

    Perhaps it was because of the excitement and anticipation that had built up during the Christmas holiday, or perhaps it was because of the looming Quidditch match that would determine the fate of the two rival houses. In any case, before anyone could fully recover from the festive season, the first Saturday of the new term had arrived, and today was the day of the Gryffindor and Ravenw match.

    The weather today was unusually mild for January. There was no gusty wind, and the sky was clear and dry. The sun shone brightly, casting a golden glow over the snow-covered grounds. Early in the morning, when the first rays of dawn jumped into the castle through the doors and windows, leaving lively shadows on the floor of the Great Hall, the professors were already seated at the staff table.

    They were the witnesses of the uing match.

    Professor McGonagall was usually veryposed, but today she seemed a bit distracted. While sipping a bowl of pumpkin soup with a silver spoon, her gaze wandered towards the staircase in the entrance hall, not even noticing when the soup spilled onto the table. She was anxiously waiting for the Gryffindor team to show up.

    Several colleagues at the staff table noticed Professor McGonagall''s distraction, but no one found it strange because they all knew the importance of this match for Gryffindor.

    "No need to worry, Minerva," Professor Lupin smiled gently, his eyes still showing dark circles from his recent transformation, "Gryffindor''s team is very strong, and Harry now has a brand new broom. In my opinion, they have a great chance of winning."

    "Why doesn''t anyone want to give the Ravenw team a Firebolt?" Professor Flitwick sounded a bit disappointed, as Remus''s words implied that Ravenw was doomed to lose today.

    "Cedric''s team is also one of the strongest team of Hufflepuff in recent years, but I don''t think they have much chance of winning," Professor Sprout said with a hint of mncholy. She nced at Professor Snape, who was silent on the side.

    "Speaking of which, Severus, Slytherin has won the Quidditch championship for seven years in a row," Professor McGonagall said with a tense face. It was clear that she had been resentful about this for a long time, but had never expressed it.

    The professors were all smart individuals, and they could all hear the resentment in Professor McGonagall''s tone. After hearing this number, Snape felt a little embarrassed and was about to say something, but at that moment, Bryan walked over from the Slytherin table, casually ncing at Draco Malfoy as he passed by.

    Bryan usually sat next to Professor Snape, and when he sat down to enjoy his breakfast, he noticed that everyone''s gaze was focused on him. Bryan blinked his eyshes and smiled casually.

    "What''s wrong, everyone? Is there something wrong with me?"

    "Why are you dressed like that?" Snape squinted at Bryan, who was wearing ck trousers and a brown jacket,pletely in Muggle attire.

    "Oh, it''s like this," Bryan seemedpletely unaware that his attire stood out among the robes of the staff table. He blinked and looked at Professor McGonagall, slightly raising his voice so that everyone at the long table, including the young wizards who were watching him, could hear.

    "I received a letterst night, um¡­ it''s an urgent matter. I have to go to London today. But don''t worry, Professor McGonagall, if things go well, I should be able to make it back for breakfast tomorrow."

    "You''re leaving, Bryan?" Professor McGonagall immediately frowned. She pursed her lips and pondered for a few seconds, looking troubled. But in the end, she spoke up.

    "While it is your right toe and go from Hogwarts at any time, Bryan, don''t you think you should consider it carefully? I mean, you surely know what day it is today. If those creatures guarding the gate lose control again¡­"

    She said cautiously, trying to dissuade Bryan from leaving. Last time during the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff match, the Dementors had collectively lost control due to hunger, almost causing serious consequences. Professor McGonagall still had lingering fears about it.

    "No need to worry, Professor McGonagall. I believe the Ministry of Magic and the Dementors know the serious consequences of trespassing on the campus without permission."

    This reply obviously did not satisfy Professor McGonagall, but she couldn''t say anything because, as she had just said, it was Bryan''s right.

    There was a slight awkwardness at the staff table. Bryan happily lowered his head to cut a sausage, while Snape and Lupin stared at him with suspicion. They also noticed that their respective points of interest were focused on Bryan, so after their eyes met briefly in the air, they withdrew their gazes.

    Just then, there was a burst of enthusiastic cheers from the entrance hall. The professors at the table looked up and saw the Gryffindor team, dressed in crimson robes, finally making a dazzling entrance amidst the anticipation of the crowd. They were followed by a swarm of supporters, waving banners and scarves in the Gryffindor colors.

    Perhaps to boost morale, Wood had intentionally ced Harry at the forefront and exposed the prominent Firebolt emblem. And indeed, it had an extraordinary effect. Four tables simultaneously made a crashing sound as chairs were overturned. The students gasped and eximed, admiring the sleek and shiny broom that Harry was holding.

    "You never mentioned that Harry had a Firebolt before I made a bet with you with ten Galleons!" Penelope''s voice sounded desperate amidst the noisy crowd as she shouted excitedly at Percy.

    "Believe me, Penelope," Percy said awkwardly, "I only found out about it recently¡­" He tried to exin, feeling a bit guilty.

    Compared to the warm wee received by the Gryffindor team, the treatment of the Ravenw team, led by Captain Davies and Seeker Cho Chang, was much more unfair. When they appeared in the Great Hall, hardly anyone noticed their arrival. They were dressed in blue robes, and they looked nervous and tense.

    "I have to cheer them up. It''s too early to lose confidence now!" Professor Flitwick couldn''t sit still. He jumped off his tall stool and hurried across the hall to speak to the Ravenw team. He was the head of Ravenw house, and he still had high hopes for his team.

    His departure seemed like a signal, and the professors all left the table, some going upstairs, bypassing the students, while Professor McGonagall and Madam Hooch squeezed through the crowd of young wizards, trying to get closer to Harry.

    "What are you going to London for, and who wrote you the letter?" Snape asked directly with a serious face, taking advantage of most people''s attention being on Harry and the Firebolt. He had been waiting for a chance to question Bryan, and he seized it.

    "Lucius Malfoy," Bryan pursed his lips and smiled, "The letter said he found clues about the people who threatened him before and asked for my help in dealing with it."

    Bryan spoke without any concealment. After a moment of silence, he took out a key from his pocket and threw it to Snape.

    "This is the key to my office. I''ll trouble you to keep an eye on it while I''m away, in case someone needs help and can''t find me and gets anxious¡­"

    Bryan''s words clearly had a hidden meaning, and Snape couldn''t figure out what he was nning. After a moment of silence, he hesitated and said,

    "In London, huh?" He asked, inquiring about it.

    "Don''t worry, it''s not a big deal," Bryan wiped his mouth with a napkin and said casually.

    Snape knew that Bryan didn''t want to delve into this topic. He sighed inwardly and left his seat.

    "What about our friend?" Lupin, who had been watching for a while, came to Bryan and asked, "I haven''t been feeling well these days, and I''ve been busy with sses. Is he okay at your ce?"

    Bryan nced at Lupin and roughly judged his condition from hisplexion. His eyes looked strange, and after a moment of silence, he said,

    "He''s had enough of staying at my ce and doesn''t want to bother you, so he''s been staying in the Forbidden Forest these days. He''s been with Crookshanks at night, you know, that cat of Hermione''s. Hagrid made a little nest for it. Don''t worry about him, Lupin. I think you should go back to your office and rest." He said calmly, trying to reassure Lupin.

    "That''s what I nned..." Lupin smiled helplessly, "But at least I have to wait until Harry''s match is over. We can''t guarantee that those Dementors won''t cause any problems, especially when you''re not at the school, Bryan. I have to keep an eye on things."

    "That''s true..." Bryan smiled mysteriously, "Well then, good luck to you, Remus."

    After saying this, Bryan didn''t give Lupin a chance to ask further questions. He stood up and hurried out of the Great Hall, Under Remus''s puzzled gaze and Malfoy''s dull eyes, he walked out of the castle, and his figure disappeared in the golden morning light.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0277 The Match

    0277 The Match

    Bathed in the bright sunshine, the Quidditch pitch was not as joyful as usual, but rather tinged with a sense of seriousness. The reason behind this was none other than the fact that this match would determine the winner of this year''s Quidditch Cup.

    Hufflepuff had already lost to Ravenw, so their chances of winning the championship were slim. The presence of their students at the pitch was merely for the sake of joining in the excitement. They wore their yellow and ck scarves and cheered for both teams, but without much enthusiasm. However, Ravenw was different. They were still strong contenders for the championship, and if they defeated Gryffindor today, they would earn the opportunity to challenge Slytherin.

    Slytherin, the defending champions, obviously hoped for Gryffindor''s loss. Not only were the two houses bitter rivals, but Gryffindor with Potter posed a greater threat than Ravenw. Slytherin knew that Potter was the best Seeker in the school, and that his Firebolt broomstick gave him an edge over anyone else. They also feared the power of the Weasley twins, who were notorious for their pranks and tricks on the pitch. For Slytherin, if Ravenw won today, their captain, Marcus Flint, could confidently pat his chest and dere that the glory belonged to Slytherin. He had already prepared a speech to mock Gryffindor''s defeat and praise his own team''s brilliance. The Slytherins, dressed in green and silver, were booing and jeering at every Gryffindor move, hoping to distract and demoralize them.

    One of the four houses hufflepuff had no stake in the matter, while the other two hoped for Gryffindor''s defeat. This atmosphere of watching the match was not exactly friendly towards Gryffindor. However, Gryffindor, known as the house of courage, was not afraid of such a situation. Most of the students from this house were shouting at the top of their lungs, hoping that their team could feel their determination to support them. They wore their red and gold colors with pride and chanted the names of their yers.

    "Oh, sorry, Remus¨C"

    Hagrid walked up from the stairs behind the stands, eyeing a seat behind Hermione and Ron. He tiptoed carefully past Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, but identally bumped into Professor Lupin, nearly causing him to fall off the stands. Lupin, who looked pale and tired, had been watching the match with a faint smile, but now he gasped and grabbed the railing to steady himself.

    "It''s alright, Hagrid¨C"

    Remus rubbed his almost dislocated shoulder and smiled bitterly. He was about to ask Hagrid why he arrived sote when a small ck puppy suddenly popped out from Hagrid''s messy hair on his shoulder. The puppy had a shaggy coat and bright eyes, and it looked around with curiosity and excitement.

    In that instant when their eyes met, Remus recognized the true identity of the ck puppy. He opened his mouth in surprise, and the response he received was a slightly smug look.

    At that moment, Hermione, who had been attracted by themotion behind her, turned around and also saw the small Sirius perched on Hagrid''s shoulder.

    "Why did you bring it here, Hagrid? What about Crookshanks?"

    "He''s catching gnomes in the vegetable patch with Fang. It''s not like I didn''t want to bring him here, Hermione."

    Hagrid poked the cheek of the small ck dog with his finger and said irritably.

    Remus smiled bitterly. He had heard from Bryan that Sirius was living in the Forbidden Forest, but he didn''t expect that he had be so familiar with Hagrid.

    "Oh, damn!"

    Ron suddenly eximed in regret, and the nearby young wizards also showed the same reaction. Professor McGonagall clenched her fists against her chest, holding her breath nervously.

    "What just happened?"

    Hermione asked anxiously, looking at Harry who was quickly stretching his distance from one goalpost to another.

    "Harry almost caught the Snitch, but Ravenw''s Beater hit the Bludger towards him, interrupting his chance!"

    Ron said angrily. He had seen the Ravenw Beater, a burly boy named Davies, swing his bat and send a ck iron ball, the Bludger, flying towards Harry. The Bludger almost hit Harry''s broomstick, making him dodge it and the Snitch was lost again.

    The pace of the match was extremely intense. Less than twenty minutes had passed since the start, and the score between Gryffindor and Ravenw had already reached eighty to zero. Gryffindor''s Chasers, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spi, and Katie Bell, had scored eight goals in a row, passing the Quaffle, the red leather ball, to each other with remarkable coordination and uracy. Ravenw''s Keeper, had tried her best to block the goals, but she was no match for Gryffindor''s offense. Gryffindor''s Beaters, Fred and George Weasley, had also done a great job of protecting their team and attacking the other, using their bats to hit the Bludgers towards the Ravenws. Ravenw''s Chasers, a trio of boys named Bradley, Chambers, and Boot, had barely touched the Quaffle, as they were constantly dodging the Bludgers and the Weasleys.

    However, the match was not over yet. The only way to end the match was to catch the Snitch, which was worth one hundred and fifty points. Moreover, Ravenw''s Seeker seemed to have found a way to deal with Harry. She had given up thepetition with Harry to catch the Golden Snitch first and was now flying around him, trying to interfere with him.

    However, she soon realized that Harry was too fast and too focused for her to catch up with him. She decided to change her strategy, and instead of looking for the Snitch herself, she followed Harry wherever he went, hoping to distract him or block his view.

    "That''s a despicable move!"

    Hermione figured out what Cho Chang was trying to do and said angrily, "Why can''t they just have a fair match?" She thought that Cho Chang was being unfair and unsportsmanlike, and that she was ruining the game for Harry and everyone else.

    "Your statement is not very objective, Hermione¨C"

    Remus nced at Sirius and smiled. He had noticed Hermione''s reaction, and he found it amusing. He also understood Cho Chang''s tactic, and he thought that it was clever and effective.

    "Miss Cho-Chang''s choice is quite wise, isn''t it? She can''tpete with Harry''s Firebolt in terms of speed. She has to use her wits to try to throw him off his game."

    Remus said calmly, trying to sound impartial. Sirius snorted, and gave Remus a look that said he was not fooled by his tone.

    Although he said that, Cho''s actions were clearly not likable, especially for the Gryffindor wizards. They could ept being defeated head-on on the pitch, but in their eyes, strategies and tactics were not much different from conspiracies and tricks.

    "Harry, now is not the time for you to be a gentleman!"

    On the pitch, Wood shouted at Harry, who was at a loss, "If necessary, knock her off the broom!" Wood as the captain and the Keeper of the Gryffindor team, was determined to win the match and the Cup at any costs.

    "I understand, Wood!"

    Harry responded nervously. He turned his head and saw that Cho was still not far behind him. Her beautiful face was framed by her flowing hair, fluttering in the golden sunlight. She had clearly noticed Harry''s gaze, and she smiled at him.

    In that moment, Harry''s heart skipped a beat, and an inexplicable sense of suffocation rushed to his mind. He even felt a slight numbness in the hand holding the broomstick!

    <em>''This feels so weird!''</em> Harry thought, but now was the time for the match. He didn''t have time to dwell on why he felt a bit disappointed when he shifted his gaze away from her smiling face. He forced himself to focus on the match.

    Of course, he couldn''t do what Wood suggested and knock Cho directly off her broom. If it were Malfoy, he wouldn''t mind doing so.

    But he had to shake off Cho-Chang. If he let her continue to stare at him like this, he wouldn''t be able to aplish anything in this match.

    After a brief thought, Harry came up with an idea. He pressed down on the broomstick, causing himself to dive towards the ground at an incredible speed. As expected, Cho thought he had spotted the Snitch and hurriedly followed him.

    Everything in his line of sight became blurry as the two of them plummeted through the air at an exaggerated speed. The wind whipped their faces and hair, and the ground rushed up to meet them. The spectators gasped and screamed, as they watched the two Seekers dive towards the earth.

    When they were about thirty feet from the ground, Harry suddenly leveled out the broomstick. After a brief deceleration, he shot back up into the sky. He had pulled off a spectacr maneuver, known as the Wronski Feint, which was named after a famous Polish Seeker. He had faked a dive, and then quickly changed direction, leaving his pursuer behind. Cho, caught off guard, slid on the grass for a while before regaining control of her body.

    And that was exactly what Harry wanted to see. Otherwise, with his flying skills, he could havepressed the distance for "braking" by half! He had deliberately extended the dive, to make sure that Cho would follow him all the way down. He had also made sure that she wouldnd on the grass, and not on the hard ground.

    Harry shot up into the sky like a bullet. Taking advantage of Cho still trying to control her broomstick, his gaze swept across the entire pitch. And then, he saw it. The Snitch was shining in the sky above Ravenw''s side of the pitch. It was a tiny golden ball, with silver wings, and it was the most important thing in the world to Harry right now.

    The world quieted down at that moment. The only sound Harry could hear was his own heartbeat. He felt a surge of adrenaline, and a burst of joy. He flew towards the Snitch, with all his speed and skill. He reached out his hand, and felt the cold metal ball in his palm.

    He closed his fingers around it, and held it tight.

    He had done it. He had caught the Snitch.

    Madam Hooch''s whistle resounded throughout the pitch, and Harry finally heard the thunderous cheers that shattered the clouds.

    Since losing the match due to the Dementor''s interference, the Gryffindor wizards had been holding onto their frustration for two whole months. It was only at this moment that their pent-up emotions were finally released. They erupted in joy and celebration, as they congratted Harry and his team. They also taunted and mocked the other teams, especially Slytherin, who had been hoping for their defeat.

    Many people crowded around Harry to express their excitement. Harry looked around and found Ron and Hermione, who were desperately trying to push forward, as well as Hagrid, who stood like a wall. At the same time, he also noticed the small ck puppy perched on Hagrid''s shoulder.

    The behavior of the ck puppy was extremely strange. It sat on Hagrid''s shoulder, patting him with its front paws like a person would, and its eyes were filled with tears.

    This scene was incredibly bizarre. Harry rubbed his eyes and almost thought he was dreaming. But the fact was that the dog was behaving like a human, celebrating his victory.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0278 I see dead people

    0278 I see dead people

    The previous defeat in thest game had left a bitter taste in Gryffindor''s mouth, so when they finally defeated Ravenw this time, the young wizards in the same house erupted in jubtion as if they had won the Quidditch Cup. even though they still had to face Slytherin in the final match. Harry barely had time to think about the unusual human-like actions of the little ck dog that had been watching him from the stands as he was immediately surrounded by his ssmates who carried him back to the castle. Now, they needed another celebration tomemorate this glorious victory.

    While Harry was showered withpliments and congrattions, Fred and George Weasley slipped away unnoticed. They returned two hourster,den with crates of butterbeer, bottles of pumpkin juice, and bags full of Honeydukes'' sweets. They dumped their loot on the nearest table and began to distribute them among the eager crowd.

    "How did you get these?" Angelina Johnson asked, catching a peppermint toad that George tossed to her.

    "With a little help from the Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," Fred whispered conspiratorially to Harry, who was sitting next to him.

    "The secret passage has been opened?" Harry asked in surprise. He thought that Professor Watson, had sealed all the secret passages that led to Hogsmeade after they had used one of them to sneak out of the castle. Harry had told Fred and George about this, hoping that they would not try to upset Professor Watson.

    "It''s been a while," George said, leaning in and speaking with a nostalgic tone. "Professor Watson is really a good bloke. He probably knows that young wizards need some fun and rxation after all the boring coursework, so he left some ways for us to enjoy ourselves."

    "I think you must have forgotten¨C" Hermione, who was chatting with Ginny, overheard the conversation of the boys and interrupted them impatiently. "The whole castle is filled with Professor Watson''s ''eyes''."

    "But he''s not at Hogwarts today. Loads of people saw him leaving at breakfast!" Ron said, grinning broadly.

    It was true that Professor Watson had left the school that morning, along with Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster.

    <em>''If Sirius ck who was after him, wanted to cause trouble today, it would be the perfect opportunity.''</em>

    Harry was curious about what Fred and George had been up to, but this sudden thought made his heart skip a beat.

    <em>''It couldn''t be such a coincidence. Sirius ck couldn''t be so well-informed.''</em>

    Harry felt a pang of paranoia and pushed the thought away. He picked up his ss of butterbeer and walked towards Seamus Finnigan, who was making his way through the crowd to congratte him.

    As the warm liquid slid down his throat, the slight anxiety he had felt vanished from his mind.

    At that moment, the portrait of the Fat Lady, who guarded the entrance to the Gryffindormon room, swung open, and Percy Weasley walked in with a sour expression on his face. He ignored the chaotic scene in front of him and grabbed a bottle of butterbeer from the table. He raised it towards Harry from across the room and then drank more than half of it in one gulp.

    "What''s wrong, Percy?" Ginny asked, covering her mouth and giggling. "Your girlfriend doesn''t want to pay you ten Galleons?"

    Percy''s face darkened even more. He said in a gloomy voice, "Penelope said she only agreed to bet with me because she didn''t know Harry had a Firebolt. She threatened me that if I ever mentioned it again, she would break up with me."

    Laughter erupted near the firece, drowning out all the other joyful noises in themon room.

    More and more students joined the celebration, and themon room was never quiet even during lunch and dinner.

    By nine o''clock in the evening, Harry, who had drunk a lot of butterbeer and pumpkin juice, copsed weakly on the soft couch. Ron''s condition was not much better than Harry''s. He was sprawled on the floor, leaning on the coffee table, his eyes zed, and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth. Only Hermione was still in good shape. She had imed a coffee table for herself and was burying her head in a book called "The Family Life and Social Habits of British Muggles." She was the only one who seemed to care about their homework, which was due the next day.

    Staring at the exquisite candle hanging from the ceiling for a long time, Harry''s eyes began to feel sore. He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes, thinking that maybe it was time to call it a night. However, Colin, a second-year student, suddenly appeared and took several photos with his camera, causing Harry''s eyes to feel a sharp pain from the bright shes.

    <em>''It''s time to rest.''</em> Harry thought so and stood up, ready to greet Ron, but his gaze swept across the doorway behind the Fat Lady, and his movements suddenly stiffened. His cheeks, reddened by butterbeer, were filled with confusion.

    The noise in the room suddenly disappeared strangely, and Harry stared at the little creature crouching in the doorway. He thought Colin''s sh had caused him to have an illusion, so he blinked his eyes and quickly looked again. But the fact proved that what he saw was real.

    The little creature in the doorway blinked its eyes and looked back at him, its eyes full of seduction.

    "Ron?" Harry called softly.

    "I might have had too much butterbeer, but I think you should see what''s at the door," Harry said.

    Ron mumbled a few times. He wanted to look up, but his tiredness and numbness made his attempt fail. He didn''t even have the strength to ask Harry what he wanted him to see.

    Harry stared at the doorway, afraid that if he looked away, the little creature would disappear from his sight.

    "Hermione?" Harry called his other friend, hoping she could help confirm. After all, this matter was crucial to Ron and Hermione''s friendship.

    "Oh, what is it now?" Hermione, who was interrupted from her studies, said irritably. "I still have 422 pages to read in this book!"

    Although she said so, Hermione followed Harry''s gaze and then her expression became simr to Harry''s, as if they were both seeing a ghost.

    As if time had stopped, Harry and Hermione stared dumbfounded at the rat crouching in the doorway, both feeling like they were in a dream.

    "I think you better see what it is, Ron," Hermione finally gave up on her book, her voice trembling as she made the same request as Harry.

    And this time, Ron finally reacted. He propped himself up on the table, looking like he was about to vomit, but he still looked sluggish and uninterested as he nced at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

    At this moment, the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, and Percy, who had just finished patrolling the castle, found that the Gryffindormon room was still the same as when he left. He was about to get angry, but a gust of cold wind suddenly blew his robes. He lowered his head in astonishment and vaguely saw a yellowish, ghost-like figure darting away from his feet.

    "Scabbers!"

    Before Percy could turn around to check, his brother Ron pounced on him, brushing past his shoulder as he rushed out of the doorway, causing him to spin in ce.

    "Ron!" Although he didn''t understand what was happening, Harry who had regained his senses, didn''t hesitate. He followed Ron out as soon as he could.

    "Wait, Harry!" Hermione also got out of the sofa, ready to follow them. But she suddenly remembered something, and wanted to stop Harry. But Harry ignored her, and she stomped her foot in annoyance, before going back to the sofa and grabbing Harry''s backpack. She took out the invisibility cloak and draped it over her arm, before running out of themon room.

    "Hey, you can''t openly vite the school rules in front of a prefect!" Percy shouted angrily.

    "Just this once, Percy."

    Thest person, Hermione, waved her hand at Percy, who was still shouting, and then disappeared on the stairs.

    The sound of hurried footsteps pierced the silence of the castle, awakening the portraits that lined the corridor from their slumber. The portraits disapprovingly pursed their lips, muttering about theck of manners and discipline among the students.

    "Oh, for God''s sake, can''t you wait for me?"

    Hermione finally caught up with Harry and Ron when they reached the fifth floor. She ran behind them, constantly using her small white hand to brush away the strands of hair floating in front of her eyes.

    Harry was about to ask Hermione what had dyed her, but his gaze shifted downward and he immediately noticed the invisibility cloak in her hands. He couldn''t help but admire her quick thinking. She had grabbed the cloak from their dormitory, knowing that they would need it to sneak out of the castle.

    "I didn''t even think of that, Hermione. Your reaction was really fast."

    "You''ll find," Hermione proudly raised her nose, ncing at the agile and unbelievably nimble Scabbers, her expression lightened as if a heavy burden had been lifted, "-that my judgment is always urate!"

    Harry and Ron didn''t say anything, but they both knew what Hermione was trying to say. Scabbers hadn''t died, which meant that Crookshanks was innocent. They had misunderstood Hermione before.

    Thinking about this, Harry couldn''t help but feel guilty, but at the same time, he felt very confused. The current appearance of Scabbers, who was running around so lively, showed no signs of being injured. So, what was the connection between the bloodstains on Ron''s bedsheet and Crookshanks''s fur on the night after Halloweenst year? Had someone else tried to harm Scabbers? And if so, why?

    While Harry was pondering this, Hermione suddenly grabbed the cors of Harry and Ron from behind and pulled them behind a tapestry at the corner without saying a word. Ron immediately wanted to ask something, but Hermione gestured for them to be quiet. She pointed at the other end of the corridor, where a figure was approaching.

    It was Professor Lupin.

    He was walking from the direction of the hospital wing, holding a toothbrush and some toiletries. Normally, he should have noticed them by now, butpared to the morning, Lupin''s face looked even more sickly, and his steps were unsteady, as if he were in a daze. His pale skin was covered with dark circles and scars, and his brown hair was greasy and unkempt. That''s why he didn''t notice them rushing down from upstairs.

    The waiting time was agonizing. Just twenty seconds felt like a century. Harry, Ron, and Hermione held their breaths, hoping that Lupin wouldn''t spot them.

    When Professor Lupin finally opened the door slowly, Ron immediately rushed out without hesitation. He didn''t want to waste any more time, he wanted to catch Scabbers before he escaped. Harry and Hermione followed him, but Harry couldn''t help but wonder.

    "I never understood¨C" Harry also followed, but his face was full of confusion, "Why does Professor Lupin always look so sickly?"

    "Well¨C" Hermione''s breathing rhythm was fast, she quickly nced at the moon outside the window, then moved her lips, but didn''t continue speaking.

    "Oh, thank goodness!"

    When they reached the first floor, Ron breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Scabbers reappear in their line of sight. Scabbers had somehow managed to evade them for a while, but now he was cornered. He had run out of the castle, and was heading towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. But there was nowhere to hide, the forest was too dark and dangerous, and there were creatures that would love to feast on a rat.

    Peter had a clear goal, it was heading towards the outside of the castle. When Harry and the others descended the marble staircase of the castle''s main entrance and arrived outside, Ron immediately called out anxiously, "Scabbers, you idiot, why are you running? It''s me, Ron!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0279 Unknown Situation

    0279 Unknown Situation

    Ron''s worried calls echoed on the breezy courtyard, but Scabbers ignored the shouts of its former owner. It continued running along the path towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, as if it had a death wish. If it weren''t for Harry''s excellent tracking skills as a Seeker, they would have likely lost Scabberspletely.

    The three of them, along with a rat, ran through the passage for about half of the campus. Suddenly, Scabbers changed direction and disappeared into the grass. He had found a small hole in the ground, and he quickly squeezed into it.

    "Hey, don''t do that, Scabbers!" Ron also followed Scabbers onto thewn, running towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest. But after only a few steps, theypletely lost track of Scabbers. The hole was too small for them to enter, and the grass was too thick for them to see through.

    The moonlight reflected on Ron''s bewildered face, making him look helpless. He didn''t understand why Scabbers had run away, or what he was running from. He didn''t know what to do next.

    Seeing his expression, Hermione couldn''t say anything more, even though she had nned to suggest that Crookshanks be brought back to the dormitory.

    "What''s going on, Ron?"

    Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead, his gaze scanning the swaying figure in the grass, but he didn''t find anything. He felt a pang of frustration and worry. Where had Scabbers gone?

    "I don''t know, Harry." Ron shook his head dumbly, "I''ve never seen Scabbers like that before. What is it afraid of?"

    Suddenly, sharp and frantic barking came from the direction of Hagrid''s hut. In the midst of the undting sounds of the forest, the sound was piercing. It sounded like Fang was in pain or in danger.

    "It''s Fang!" Hermione immediately realized, her voice filled with urgency. She clutched her wand tightly, ready for any trouble. "Something urgent must have happened to Hagrid!"

    "We have to go and see!"

    Harry looked nervous and immediately agreed with Hermione''s suggestion. He trusted Hagrid more than anyone else at Hogwarts, and he couldn''t bear the thought of him being hurt or attacked.

    Ron didn''t want to go, he wanted to continue searching for Scabbers. In the past two months, he had been secretly depressed countless times because of Scabbers'' mysterious death. He had med himself for not taking better care of him, Now that they had discovered that Scabbers was alive, apologizing to Hermione wasn''t a problem. He was d that she had been right all along, and that Crookshanks was innocent. But for him, the first priority was finding Scabbers.

    However, Fang''s barking and whimpering didn''t sound right. It sounded like he was begging for help, or warning them of something. Hagrid was also their mutual friend, Ron couldn''t refute Harry''s suggestion. He nodded reluctantly, and followed Harry and Hermione.

    Their location was not far from Hagrid''s hut, and just a few secondster, they saw Hagrid''s distinctive massive figure. Hagrid stood on a small slope outside his house, staring nkly at the dark Forbidden Forest. Fang was standing next to Hagrid, howling desperately in the same direction.

    "What''s wrong, Hagrid?"

    Harry shouted loudly from a distance of fifty to sixty feet, hoping to catch Hagrid''s attention. He was worried about what had happened, and what had made Fang so agitated.

    "We heard Fang''s barking. Did something happen?"

    Hagrid turned his head when he heard Harry''s voice and the sound of their footsteps. But his expression was as confused and lost as theirs when they had found Scabbers in themon room. He looked like he couldn''t believe what he had just seen.

    "Oh, it''s you three¨C"

    The thing that happened just now obviously made Hagrid unable to understand, so he didn''t even realize that it was sote, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were wandering around the campus.

    "I just saw Malfoy run into the Forbidden Forest."

    "Malfoy?!"

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione eximed in unison, their voices filled with surprise and confusion.

    "Oh, it''s like this¨C"

    Hagrid swallowed a mouthful of saliva, staring at his bell-like eyes, and said in a skeptical tone, as if he was trying to make sense of what he had witnessed.

    "I was reciting the materials to help Buckbeak''s defense in my house just now. Then I suddenly heard Fang barking, and I thought he had found some animal trying to break into the campus, so I rushed out. But what I found was Malfoy standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, holding a broomstick with a rat perched on it¨C"

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged nces, all seeing the astonishment in each other''s eyes. They couldn''t believe what they had just heard.

    <em>''This couldn''t be true!''</em>

    Maybe Malfoy was stimted by Harry''s outstanding performance on the pitch today, so he had decided to practice flying alone. But that was unlikely, since Malfoy was a skilled flyer, and he had no reason to improve his skills. Besides, he would never fly near the forest, where he could encounter something unpleasant or dangerous.

    But that rat, if their guess was correct, should be Scabbers. Let''s not mention how Scabbers became friends with Malfoy. They had only stopped for a short while on the roadside, not enough time for Scabbers to meet up with Malfoy. Could it be that Malfoy also had a pet rat? But that was also unlikely, since Malfoy despised rats, and he had often insulted Scabbers for being old and useless.

    "¨CAnd then that stray ck puppy,"

    Hagrid didn''t pay attention to their thoughts and continued speaking,

    "It was originally in the little nest I made for Crookshanks. After it saw Malfoy, it suddenly transformed. Its size grew dozens of timesrger than Fang. It carried Crookshanks on its back and charged towards Malfoy, as if it wanted to bite him to death."

    <em>''The ck dog grew in size and wanted to bite Malfoy?!''</em>

    This was too magical, even Hermione couldn''te up with any reasonable spection for a moment. She had read a lot of books about magical creatures, but she had never heard of anything like this. A dog that could transform into a giant beast? A dog that would carry a cat on its back? A dog that hated Malfoy as much as they did?

    <em>''What was going on?''</em>

    "I''ve never seen a dog that can change its size like that¨C"

    Hagrid''s focus seemed to have deviated a bit. He gradually came back to his sense and became excited, his eyes shining with interest and curiosity.

    "Maybe it''s a special breed bred by some wizard. Oh, if that''s the case, I must go and ask for advice! Maybe Dumbledore knows something about it."

    At this moment, Hermione suddenly noticed that Harry''s expression was not right. It was as if he had been struck by lightning. His face was drained of color, and his eyes were wide with shock. She worriedly asked, "What''s wrong, Harry? What did you think of?"

    "I''ve seen that dog¨C"

    Harry slowly closed his gaping mouth, his face turning pale.

    Just when Hagrid was describing it, he suddenly understood everything.

    "Last summer, after I blew up Aunt Marge and left the Dursleys, I took the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron. Before that, I saw it near Magnolia Crescent."

    "What are you talking about, Harry?"

    Ron, who still had Scabbers and Malfoy being bitten by a dog in his mind, looked at Harry with a ridiculous expression. He couldn''t make sense of Harry''s words.

    "A dog from the Muggle world can''t follow you all the way to Hogwarts, can it?"

    "Don''t you understand yet!"

    Harry''s face turned white, and he suddenly became very excited.

    "How can a dog change its size, Ron? Have you ever heard of such a magical creature? Unless, it''s not really a dog, it''s a disguise!!"

    "You mean, Harry."

    Ron still didn''t quite understand, but Hermione suddenly covered her mouth, her amber eyes filled with horror. She gasped, as the pieces of the puzzle fell into ce.

    "Professor McGonagall mentioned it in ss, Animagus?!"

    Silence fell suddenly, but it was quickly broken by the sound of their own breathing, and the distant howling of Fang. They looked at each other, their faces reflecting the same emotion: dread.

    "At a time like this, who would deliberately disguise themselves as a dog and enter Hogwarts?"

    Harry''s green eyes shed with angry mes and he said decisively, his voice trembling with rage and fear.

    "Sirius ck!"

    Harry called out the name in an almost hoarse voice, and the reactions of the people present were different.

    Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, fear evident on her pale cheeks, but her lively brown eyes continued to flicker, as if assessing how likely Harry''s spection was. Ron, on the other hand, was startled and stammered,

    "But¡­ but that''s not possible, there''s a Dementor at the school gate."

    "There can''t be more Dementors at the school gate than Azkaban, right?" Harry said coldly, his green eyes shing with anger. "But ck still managed to escape from there!"

    "I think you might be overreacting, Harry¨C" Hagrid interjected, his voice booming in the dark. "ck is an Animagus? Well, forgive me for being blunt, Harry, but I might know a bit more about ck than you think. When he was studying at Hogwarts, I had been the gamekeeper here for thirty years. I foiled countless attempts by him and his friends to sneak into the Forbidden Forest."

    "Just say it, Hagrid¨C"

    Harry didn''t want to hide anymore. With a stern face, he said directly, "ck''s friend is my dad, right? And Professor Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew who died at ck''s hands in order to avenge my parents. It was his betrayal that led to my parents death at the hands of Voldemort."

    The cold wind howled in the middle of the night, as if echoing his hatred. The sudden appearance of the word ''Voldemort'' made them all shiver, and they instinctively looked around,

    "Sirius ck has been trying to get close to me since he escaped from Azkaban six months ago. He wants to kill me to avenge Voldemort."

    "Where did you hear all this, Harry?"

    Hagrid looked incredulous, his mouth wide open as if he could swallow a dragon egg. He looked at Harry in confusion, then nced at Hermione and Ron, who remained silent. His bushy eyebrows furrowed, and his voice finally became stern,

    "Don''t tell me it was Remus. I know him, he''s not a bbermouth."

    Hagrid''s questioning made Harry hesitate, but after a moment, the anger and hatred he felt when he first heard this news returned to his heart.

    "I overheard your conversation,st year at the Three Broomsticks Pub, When you met with the Minister of Magic."

    "But¡­"

    Hagrid tried to say something, but Harry cut him off.

    "There''s a secret passage in the school that Filch doesn''t know about, which leads directly to Hogsmeade."

    As Harry said these words, Ron desperately winked at him, but Harry ignored it. He knew Ron was trying to warn him not to reveal too much, but he didn''t care. Seeing Hagrid''s astonished expression, for some reason, he felt a sense of satisfaction. Even though he was the one who should know everything, whether it was Hagrid, Professor Lupin, or Professor Watson, or even Headmaster Dumbledore, they all kept silent. Of course, he knew they were doing it for his own good, afraid that he would do something foolish. But did they even realize that twelve years ago, it was his parents who were brutally murdered by Voldemort?

    "Oh my!"

    Hagrid''s voice was filled with anger, and he reacted just as Harry expected.

    "You know that ck is still on the run, and yet you¨C"

    Hagrid pped his forehead hard, making a loud sound. He looked at Harry with disappointment and disbelief, then regained hisposure.

    "It''s already sote, why are you three still on the campus? Harry, even if it''s to celebrate today''s victory, I think you''ve gone too far!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0280 The Half-Giantâ€™s Hauler

    0280 The Half-Giant¡¯s Hauler

    Hagrid''s expression was already unpleasant, and if he were to tell Hagrid that they were there because of a rat that had escaped, he might just unleash his wild side. So, even though Harry was angry, he didn''t say anything.

    "Go back to the castle, right now. We''ll talk about the secret passage and Hogsmeade tomorrow!"

    Hagrid said angrily, pointing to the direction of the Hogwarts grounds. He didn''t wait for their reply, and turned to the other side.

    "I have to bring Malfoy back now. This foolish boy, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night with a broomstick, he probably doesn''t know what happened to thest bunch of kids who did that!"

    Hagrid rushed into the house, and Hermione pleaded with Harry in a low voice,

    "Go back, Harry. Think about what happened in Professor Watson''s officest time. Besides, we''re not even sure if that was really ck."

    "But¨C"

    This series of events confused Ron a bit, and he pointed to the Forbidden Forest, saying in a daze,

    "Scabbers and Malfoy."

    "You want Harry to risk exposing himself to ck for Scabbers?"

    Hermione snapped, her voice sharp and impatient.

    At this point, Hagrid, holding a crossbow and with the pink tattered umbre tucked under his arm, saw that Harry and the others were still standing there motionless, and he rarely disyed his professorial authority and shouted,

    "Go back, Harry, and you two as well, don''t force me to put the three of you in detention!"

    Harry turned around slowly and walked back, and Hermione and Ron looked surprised. They thought Harry wouldn''t give in. They knew how much Harry hated ck, and how much he wanted to confront him.

    And Hagrid, seeing this, didn''t think much, and nodded in satisfaction. He was relieved that Harry had finallye to his senses, and that he had chosen to obey him.

    He immediately turned to run towards the Forbidden Forest, hoping to catch up with Malfoy and the dog before it was toote. But after running only a few steps, he suddenly stopped because he realized a serious problem.

    He didn''t know what that kid from Slytherin, who always acted like a troublemaker in ss, was up to. But Hagrid saw that Malfoy had a broomstick, and the dog chasing after him didn''t seem slow either. How was he going to catch up with them?

    He knew that the forest was full of dangers, especially at night.

    If he relied on his two legs alone, by the time he found Malfoy, that kid might already be torn to pieces!

    <em>''Why wasn''t there a flying broomstick for giants to ride on?''</em> Hagrid thought indignantly.

    It wasn''t that there was no tool to speed up his pace, but he had sworn never to use it again. But now, a student''s life might be in danger, and Hagrid had no other choice.

    He walked quickly to the east side of the house and fumbled around under the wall. After a few moments, he lifted the dusty and weed-covered wooden cover. Looking at the now snow-white motorcycle, Hagrid''s breathing quickened.

    "I hope you can still move¨C"

    Hagrid muttered to himself as he grabbed one of the motorcycle''s handles and lifted the barely visible motorcycle like a little chick. A hint of deep blue electric light emerged from the tip of the pink tattered umbre, and the dust on the motorcycle was immediately swept away.

    Hagrid threw the umbre and crossbow into his bag, then turned his attention to the jumble of buttons that controlled the motorcycle. It had been years since he hadst operated this thing, and he couldn''t quite remember how to make it work.

    Fortunately, luck was on Hagrid''s side. He pressed a certain switch, and immediately, the motorcycle''s exhaust pipe emitted thick smoke and made a roaring sound like a panting beast. But when Hagrid twisted the handle, the motorcycle''s engine suddenly roared loudly, like a roaring dragon!

    "Where did you get this thing?" Harry asked in amazement.

    "I got it from ck," Hagrid said happily. "You probably don''t remember, Harry, but you rode on it before. Twelve years ago, when I was ordered by Professor Dumbledore to take you from Godric''s Hollow to your Muggle rtives'' house, I used this thing. You were just a little thing back then, I could hold you with one hand!"

    "Cool!"

    Another voice, filled with admiration, said, "My dad''s modified Muggle car is far worse than this."

    "Haha, Arthur¨C"

    Hagrid adjusted the rearview mirror of the motorcycle and smiled. However, when he saw the three little ones standing behind him in the mirror, his smile froze on his face.

    "I seem to have some vague memories of this."

    Harry had a pensive expression on his face as he climbed onto the sidecar, absentmindedly squeezing next to Hagrid. Given Hagrid''s size, there was only enough space for one person on the motorcycle, so he had to leave room for either Ron or Hermione.

    After a moment of eye contact, Hermione threw the Invisibility Cloak to Harry, and she clumsily climbed onto the sidecar, sitting closely next to Harry, holding Hagrid''s umbre and crossbow in her arms.

    Ron, with an excited expression, grabbed the wrinkles on Hagrid''s coat and sat in the seat.

    "You three!" Hagrid finally roared in anger, "You''ve decided to ignore my words, haven''t you!"

    Facing Hagrid''s towering anger, Harry didn''t back down. He stared defiantly into Hagrid''s eyes, with a stubborn and determined look on his face.

    "We just want to help you find Malfoy, Hagrid."

    "Oh,e on, Harry! Don''t give me that rubbish!" Hagrid snorted, seeing through Harry''s pretense. He leaned closer to Harry, his bushy beard almost touching Harry''s nose, and said in a low voice, "You already know about those things, so you just want to go after ck for revenge. Let me tell you, you''re just being delusional. I''ve never heard of that traitor being Animagus. If that were the case, Remus would know, and he wouldn''t hide it from Professor Dumbledore!!"

    "Well, if that''s the case¡ª"

    Harry quickly interrupted, trying to sound confident,

    "Then what are you worried about? If ck can''t turn into an animal, then he can''t get past the Dementors. He''s probably long gone by now."

    "Hah, what am I worried about?"

    Hagrid repeated as he was frustrated with Harry''s stubbornness. His ck beetle-like eyes were fiery, and his bushy beard bristled. Just as he was about to say something, Hermione cut in crisply, with a sensible tone,

    "Malfoy might be in danger, Hagrid. You should hurry and find him. He could be hurt, or worse. He shouldn''t have gone into the Forbidden Forest alone, especially at night. Who knows what creatures lurk in there?"

    Hagrid finally realized it. His attempt to disy his professorial authority had no effect on these three kids. They were too curious and reckless for their own good. And as Hermione said, the most urgent matter was to rescue Malfoy, who had trespassed into the Forbidden Forest. As for the dog, Hagrid still believed it was just a magical creature with extraordinary abilities.

    "Alright!"

    Hagrid nced at the Invisibility Cloak Harry was holding and said with a huff,

    "Don''t think this is over, you three. Once I find Malfoy, you four can spend some quality time in detention together! And don''t you dare tell anyone about the dog?"

    Although being in detention with Malfoy was nauseating, at least Hagrid agreed to take them into the Forbidden Forest. This was the second time Harry had encountered such an opportunity since entering Hogwarts. The first time was in his first year, when he, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had followed a trail of blood into the forest and encountered Voldemort, who was having midnight snack in the forest.

    "There''s no way we''ll run into him tonight¨C"

    Harry muttered quietly, hoping to reassure himself, but his voice was drowned out by the roaring sound of the motorcycle''s exhaust.

    Hagrid had mounted his enchanted motorbike, which he had borrowed from Sirius ck years ago, and was ready to take off. With a burst of brilliant blue and white mes shooting out of the motorcycle''s exhaust pipe, the motorcycle suddenly leaped thirty feet into the air and swiftly flew into the Forbidden Forest, leaving a trail of sparks behind.

    Not long after they disappeared, a person hurriedly ran towards the direction of the castle. He carefully examined a piece of parchment in his hand, but found nothing. Then, he looked around and immediately spotted Fang, Hagrid''s loyal boarhound, who was gazing in a certain direction at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

    "Did they go in?"

    He asked Fang, hoping for an answer. Fang recognized the neer and stopped his threatening growl. He nodded his head, wagging his tail slightly. After getting confirmation, the person did not hesitate and dashed towards the forest, hoping to catch up with them.

    <strong>Crash! Rustle!</strong>

    There was a sudden rustling sound from the treetops at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, as if caused by a flying bird. A dark cloud, taking advantage of the cover of night, swiftly entered the Forbidden Forest.

    "Almost there, just a little longer¡ª"

    In the howling wind, a suppressed and trembling voice came from a small hill in the vegetable garden.

    Late January brought a hint of spring to the Hogwarts campus, but the Forbidden Forest at night was an entirely different concept from the campus. The air here was thick with cold and dampness, and the path they were following was covered by strange, ethereal white mist that appeared at regr intervals. The mist was a result of the magic that permeated the forest, and it had a strange effect on the senses. Every time they passed through a mist, Hermione would let out a startled "cluck" like exmation, as if she had seen something frightening or surprising.

    "Brr, I should have brought a scarf!" Ronined, shivering. He was wearing his usual maroon sweater, which was not enough to keep him warm in the forest.

    Ten minutes after entering the Forbidden Forest, the excitement of sneaking into the forest at night to track down a possible Sirius ck and, incidentally, send Malfoy to detention had worn off. Now, they were faced with a gloomy and eerie primeval forest, asionally apanied by spine-chilling howls.

    Ron was shivering from the cold, and his hair and eyebrows were frozen. He could only rely on the fur on Hagrid''s mole-skin coat to keep warm.

    The sight of twisted vines and scarred tree stumps, which looked like grotesque faces, growing on the soft bed of fallen leaves, made Hermione tense. She tightly grasped Harry''s sleeve, and the sweat in her palms had already formed noticeable wet marks on Harry''s sleeve.

    The darkness enveloping the Forbidden Forest seemed to devour any light, whether it was the moonlight and starlight above the sky or the light emitted by the motorcycle''s headlight. The visibility was poor, and Hagrid had to squint his eyes and concentrate on observing the footprints on the soft pile of fallen leaves.

    "I was just thinking, Hagrid!"

    Harry shouted loudly, his voice overpowering the roar of the exhaust pipe.

    "The day before school started, when I was test-flying the Firebolt on the Quidditch pitch, I ran into ck. He didn''t attack, probably because he was afraid of being exposed and couldn''t escape the Dementors. It''s also possible that he didn''t find an opportunity to sneak into the castle this past week. But why did he go after Malfoy tonight?"

    "I don''t know, Harry!"

    Tracking footprints that were already blurry was already exhausting enough for Hagrid. He didn''t have time to answer Harry''s question.

    "I''ve heard rumors that Malfoy''s father used to be a Death Eater, but after Voldemort fell, he pretended to have no connection with him. Do you think this might have angered ck, who is fiercely loyal to Voldemort? Is he trying to get rid of Draco as revenge?"

    Ron suggested, trying to make sense of the situation.

    "Shouldn''t we slow down, at least until Malfoy is done for¡ª" Ron shivered as he spoke, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0281 Old Friends

    0281 Old Friends

    "Don''t mention that name!" Hagrid angrily growled, interrupting Ron''s sentence. "Otherwise, I''ll drop you off and make you run behind the motorcycle. This bike is getting old, and it''s a bit difficult to carry four people!"

    Hagrid threatened, hoping to scare Ron into silence. He didn''t want to hear any more talk of Voldemort, or of ck.

    Hagrid always believed that the dog that could grow bigger being ck was just Harry''s imagination, which frustrated Harry. Harry had seen the dog twice, once in Magnolia Crescent, and once in the Quidditch pitch. He had tried to convince Hagrid, but Hagrid had dismissed his ims as nonsense.

    "Oh, look over there¡ª"

    Suddenly, Hermione let go of Harry''s arm and eximed, pointing to the faintly visible path on the right side of the ground.

    And the three of them, reminded by Hermione, also turned their attention to where she was pointing. They saw several flickering torchlights in that direction, and those torchlights remained stationary. Harry could feel several pairs of eyes looking back in their direction.

    "Oh, They are old friends. We can just go over and ask for directions!"

    Hagrid immediately recognized who the torchbearers were and said happily.

    As the motorcycle entered the range of the torchlight, Harry immediately recognized them¡ªthey were centaurs. He had encountered them when he was punished to "work" in the Forbidden Forest during his first year.

    In front of them were about twenty centaurs, all armed with torches in one hand and spears in the other. Their faces were filled with a murderous aura, and even after seeing Hagrid, they didn''t have a friendly expression. They looked angry and hostile, and they blocked the path with their muscr bodies.

    The three centaurs leading the group were the strongest among these warriors. When their biceps bulged, they were almost as thick as Hermione''s waist. And these three strong centaurs, Harry recognized them.

    "What''s going on here? is there a war going to happen here?!"

    Hagridnded the motorcycle, but seeing the centaurs''s hostile attitude, he didn''t have time to greet them and asked in surprise.

    Because he often helped the magical creatures living in the forest to solve their survival problems, Hagrid had a good rtion with them. So, when the centaurs behind pawed the ground in anger, the centaur on the left of the three gave the elite warriors a warning look and then stepped forward.

    "Good evening, Hagrid."

    Firenze, with his tinum hair and silver mane, greeted Hagrid and then lowered his head with a smile, looking at Harry.

    "Good evening, Harry Potter. We meet again."

    "It''s been a while, Firenze."

    It was only after getting off the motorcycle that Harry realized the damage the temperature in the Forbidden Forest had done to him. He rubbed his knees vigorously, trying to force a smile on his stiff and numb face.

    While Harry and Firenze were catching up, Hagrid watched the heavily armed centaurs warily and said to Ronan and Bane,

    "What''s going on? Are you nning to attack Hogwarts?!"

    ........................

    In the deep, shadowy heart of the Forbidden Forest, the only sounds that pierced the heavy silence were the intermittent crackles and pops of the torches, their mes casting a flickering glow on the tense faces gathered around. The air was thick with anticipation, and a palpable tension hung like a cloak over the assembly.

    Hermione furrowedher eyebrows in concern, leaned closer to Harry, her voice a hushed whisper barely audible above the soft hiss of the torches.

    "Do they really intend to start a war against wizards?"

    She questioned, her mind racing with snippets of lore and legend she had gleaned from the books of Hogwarts''s vast library. The centaurs, proud and enigmatic creatures of the forest, were known for their aloofness towards wizardkind, often choosing the solitude and avoiding contact with wizards.

    The centaurs remained stoically silent, their expressions unreadable in the dim light. Hermione''s whispered fears seemed to echo in the stillness, causing a tightness in Harry''s chest that he couldn''t shake off. His gaze drifted to Firenze, the centaur who stood apart from his kin, not just in proximity but in spirit. Harry''s fondness for Firenze was rooted in the centaur''s more amiable disposition towards wizards, a stark contrast to the abrasive nature of Bane, his fellow centaur. Moreover, Firenze had proven saved Harry in the past, a debt Harry could never forget.

    The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on Harry''s mind, overshadowing even the pressing concerns of Sirius ck''s whereabouts. He sought Firenze''s eyes, searching for some hint of reassurance, some sign that the rumors of war were unfounded.

    Firenze, his gaze lifted to the sky, spoke with a deliberate slowness that seemed to stretch time itself. "Just like before, Harry Potter," he intoned, his voice resonating with a depth that belied his calm exterior. "You have once again chosen a bright Martian night to venture into the Forbidden Forest. It is unwise, for the affairs of centaurs are not meant for the meddling of wizards."

    The words hung in the air like a specter, and at its utterance, Harry, Hermione, and the others could not contain their shock, their collective exmation breaking the silence like a thunderp. Hagrid, reacted instinctively, his stature rising as he rolled up his sleeves, his presence bing a towering force even among the formidable centaurs Bane and Ronan. His re was fierce, a silent challenge that did not go unnoticed by Bane, whose disapproval was evident in his stern countenance.

    "We have no quarrel with the young foals in the school, Hagrid!" Bane''s voice was a rumble of thunder, a clear indication that the centaurs'' intentions were not directed at the students of Hogwarts.

    Hagrid''s eyes narrowed, a glint of suspicion shing within as he pondered the centaurs''s gathering. "If that''s the case, then who are you preparing to confront in the dead of night? Oh, could it be¡­" Hagrid squinted his eyes, "that Aragog''s offspring has caused trouble for you again? But I''ve already talked to it!"

    "Who is Aragog?" Ron, ever curious, whispered his confusion to Harry, who could only offer a shake of his head in response. Ron turned to Hermione, seeking answers from her vast repository of knowledge. "Does that book mention this name, Hermione?"

    The Forbidden Forest was isted from the wizarding world, where prominent figures from the outside had no say, and the forest''s rulers were unknown to the outside world. At the moment, Hagrid was the only bridge between these two worlds.

    Firenze''s voice cut through the tension, his words a balm of calm in the midst of rising tempers.

    "Don''t worry, Hagrid," Firenze said calmly, "We just want to punish the vile dark creatures living deep in the Forbidden Forest. They have been too active these past few days, constantly appearing in our territory. And this evening, they had the audacity to kidnap one of our own."

    "You mean..." Hagrid''s brow furrowed, and he was about to say the name of those creatures, but his gaze suddenly caught Harry and the others, who were extremely concerned about this question. After a brief hesitation, he said firmly, "If that''s the case, then your actions are not surprising. But Dumbledore hopes for a harmonious and peaceful environment for the magical creatures in the Forbidden Forest. If they have truly done this, I will report it to him, Firenze. Professor Dumbledore wille for you. But for now..."

    Bane''s reaction was swift and fierce, his pride as a centaur wounded by the implication of needing wizardly intervention. "The centaurs require no protection from wizards!" he bellowed, his anger directed squarely at Hagrid. "Not even from Dumbledore himself!"

    The tension escted, the air charged with the potential for conflict, but Ronan, ever the peacemaker, stepped forward, his hooves scraping the earth as he positioned himself between Bane and Hagrid.

    "Hagrid means no offense, Bane," Ronan interjected, his voice a soothing counterpoint to the rising hostility. Turning to Hagrid, he continued, "We are capable of resolving our own issues."

    Firenze, with a gesture of solidarity, ced a reassuring hand on Bane''s back before stepping forward to address the group. His eyes met Harry''s, who was confused and said, "I believe we all have pressing matters to attend to, Harry Potter. The time hase for us to part ways."

    As the centaurs retreated into the forest, their torches soon swallowed by the encroaching darkness, a chilling silence enveloped Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The cold air seemed to seep in from all directions, prompting the trio to draw closer for warmth andfort. Hagrid, made his way to his enchanted motorcycle, hisrge hands fumbling in the dark until he found the switch for the headlights. With a flick, the beams cut through the darkness, casting a cylindrical beacon of light that pierced the night, a solitary sentinel against the unknown perils of the forest.

    Hagrid''s deep voice rumbled through the stillness of the night, his words heavy with the gravity of the situation. "If it was a fellow centaur that was kidnapped, then I''m not surprised that Ronan and the others mobilized," he said, hisrge hand thoughtfully stroking the coarse bristles of his beard. "The number of centaurs is very scarce, and each one is precious to them."

    Harry, standing beside the half-giant, nodded solemnly, his heart weighed down by the severity of the revtion. Memories flooded back to him, vivid and unsettling, of the previous summer when Professor Watson had guided him through the shadowy,byrinthine depths of Knockturn Alley. That hidden, underground world had overturned everything Harry thought he knew about the Wizarding world. There, amidst the murk and the whispers, he had witnessed dark wizards engaged in the sinister and illicit trade of magical creatures. Among those unfortunate beings, Harry recalled the sight of centaurs, their proud stances belying their captivity. A chilling thought crossed his mind<em>¡ªcould one of those centaurs have been from Firenze''s own tribe?</em>

    Hermione, her sharp intellect always at the ready, voiced the question that lingered unspoken between them. "Hagrid, what exactly kidnapped the centaurs?" Her eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful furrow, her mind racing to piece together the fragments of information they had.

    Ron, ever the one to notice the oddities in timing and circumstance, chimed in with a theory of his own. "And it''s too coincidental that it happened tonight, when the centaur tribe was attacked. Malfoy mysteriously entered the Forbidden Forest with that dog,"

    Hagrid grunted in agreement, his annoyance palpable. "Yeah, tonight is really eventful," he muttered, the frustration evident in his tone. "I should report these things to Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson immediately, but they''re both not at the school!" The absence of the two professors at such a critical time seemed to add anotheryer of mystery to the alreadyplex puzzle.

    The trio¡ªHarry, Ron, and Hermione¡ªexchanged nces, their expressions a mix of suspicion and uncertainty. The pieces were falling into ce, but the picture they formed was disconcerting.

    Ron''s face drained of color as he grasped the potential implications of their predicament. "This could be a conspiracy, Harry!" he eximed, his voice barely above a whisper as Hagrid struggled to mount the motorcycle. "Someone is up to something, and I''ve been wondering why Scabbers would willingly follow Malfoy."

    Hermione suggested seriously, "I think we should go back to the school and tell Professor McGonagall about all of this, Harry,"

    Harry remained silent, but his resolve was clear in his actions. As the motorcycle''s engine roared back to life, he climbed into the sidecar, his eyes¡ªunwavering and determined¡ªvisible beneath the frost that had gathered on his eyshes.

    Now, they were back on their original path, but the terrain had changed dramatically from the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. No longer was it a t expanse carpeted with fallen leaves; instead, it was a treacherousndscape filled with puddles, mud pits, and oddly shaped rocks. The task of finding footprints became a formidable challenge, and their progress slowed considerably.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    <strong>Author''s Note: Is todays chapter moreplex or OK?</strong>

 0282 Hatred

    0282 Hatred

    The three young wizards ignited the tips of their wands, casting beams of light that sliced through the darkness, aiding Hagrid in his search. So far, they hadn''t heard any human voices, which might be a good thing. Malfoy was definitely no match for ck, but Harry thought that he should still be able to let out a few screams before dying.

    Hagrid''s expression was etched with seriousness as he navigated the motorcycle. The urgency that radiated from him was palpable; his initial task had been a simple retrieval of a reckless young wizard who had dared to practice flying in the Forbidden Forest under the cover of night. But now, the stakes were higher, and he needed to ascertain the situation with the centaurs.

    The Forbidden Forest, nestled against the grounds of Hogwarts, was rumored to be home to werewolves¡ªa legend among the young wizards, but a reality known to both Dumbledore and Hagrid. Traces of werewolf activity had been found deep within the forest.

    The possibility of a war between centaurs and werewolves, especially one that could involve Hogwarts, was a thought that filled Hagrid with dread.

    After another ten minutes of flight, the dense vegetation forced Hagrid to bring the motorcycle to a halt. They would have to continue on foot.

    As they trekked through the forest, the paw prints they had been following became scattered and erratic, suggesting that the dog had expended most of its energy by this point. Hagrid''s keen eyes spotted traces of shattered spells on a tree trunk, evidence of a magical struggle.

    "Is this Malfoy''s doing?" Ron asked, his voice trembling with fear.

    No one answered, not even Harry or Hermione.

    The night was deepening, and the damp ground beneath their feet began to freeze, the frost-covered twigs and leaves crunching under their steps. Each sound seemed amplified in the quiet of the forest, a cacophony that set their nerves on edge and heightened their sense of rm.

    The forest was abyrinth of shadows and whispers, where every leaf and twig seemed to hold its breath under the weight of the night. The trio, along with Hagrid, had fanned out in a strategic formation, each step deliberate, ensuring no clue was left unseen, no stone unturned. Harry''s eyes were fixed on the ground, tracing the faint impressions left behind, a silent testament to the events that had unfolded earlier.

    Hermione''s voice, usually so full of confidence and curiosity, now carried a tremor of fear and helplessness that cut through the silence like a knife.

    "Harry,"

    And in that moment, Harry sensed that something was wrong. He looked up sharply, pointing his wand in the direction Hermione was facing. With just one nce, he felt as if a cold,rge hand had clenched his stomach, causing pain and nausea to torment his nerves simultaneously.

    Ron''splexion had turned a ghastly shade, his body swaying as if he might copse at any moment, while Hagrid stood as still as a statue, a silent sentinel next to Hermione.

    The scene that unfolded before them was like a painting, both macabre and surreal. The moon, a silent observer in the sky, bathed a rare clearing in its ethereal glow. The pits that marred the forest floor caught the moonlight, transforming it into a pool of silver luminescence. It was a haunting beauty that belied the potential horror of the scene¡ªwas the liquid that filled the pits mere water mixed with ice, or blood?

    In the heart of the clearingy a figure, motionless, with a broomstick cast aside as if it were a child''s forgotten toy. A second figure loomed over the first, its movements frantic and disheveled as it searched the body.

    Malfoy, whom Harry had always despised the most among the young wizards, was lying weakly on the ground. Harry didn''t know how to describe his feelings when he saw Malfoy''s body like that, but he knew that the gaze he fixed on the crouching wizard was definitely not one of gratitude.

    The man who stood beside the pale figure of Draco Malfoy rose slowly, his movements hesitant and shaky. As he turned to face the unexpected visitors, his eyes widened in a mix of fear and disbelief. The sight of Hagrid''s imposing form and the familiar faces of Harry, Hermione, and Ron seemed to root him to the spot. His initial instinct was to flee, to vanish into the shadows of the forest, but his legs betrayed him, allowing only a feeble step backward.

    In the sky, clouds moved with the wind, obscuring the cold moonlight. On the ground, a shadow silently approached from the other side of the hill, enveloping Harry, his friends, and the man.

    The two groups stared at each other in the darkness, neither making a move. The ethereal mist that surrounded them seemed to be tainted with a hint of murderous intent.

    The eerie silencested for a long time, until a cloud in the night sky reluctantly shifted position, allowing moonlight to fall and bathe everything in a shimmering white veil. Only then was the silence broken.

    "I thought it would only be Hagrid. How did you three end up here?" Sirius''s voice, tinged with a myriad of emotions, cut through the stillness.

    For Harry, the encounter with Sirius ck was a moment he had yed out in his mind''s theater countless times. He had envisioned a confrontation charged with righteous fury, where he would face down the man he believed to be a vile betrayer. In his fantasies, the sh was a decisive one, ending only when one of them fell.

    Yet, the lessons imparted by Professor Watson had instilled a more cautious approach. If this alleged murderer were to appear before him, not only could he not win, but he might not even have the courage to act. Bravery could notpensate forck of strength or experience. The right thing to do was to remain within the safety of the castle''s walls, under the watchful eyes of his professors and friends. Even if he did encounter Sirius, he should find a way to escape, because a man who had shown no mercy in severing a deep friendship with Harry''s father was unlikely to extend any mercy to Harry himself.

    Harry had once epted Professor Watson''s teachings, but today, now that he truly saw the person who had made him an orphan and subjected him to eleven years of humiliation and suffering at the hands of the Dursleys, ignited a fire within him that no amount of rational thought could quench. He couldn''t convince himself to hide behind Hagrid.

    He thought he would see someone exactly like the picture on the wanted poster - a man broken by torment and madness, wearing tattered prisoner''s robes.But the reality before him defied those expectations.

    Sirius ck''s appearance was far from disheveled. His gray eyes, though sharp, betrayed a semnce of vitality; his cheeks, though hollow, did not detract from an overall impression of health.

    Especially, he was wearing a robe - not a rag helplessly pulled out of a trash can, but an expensive one that fit his body and reflected a faint light under the moonlight. Wearing that robe, Sirius ck looked like an elegant and normal wizard.

    <em>''He actually had time to find himself nice robes?!''</em> Harry thought Sirius ck would be constantly on edge no matter where he hid, but this was the retribution he deserved as a traitor who betrayed his friends and followed Voldemort, but...

    A sudden rush of blood to Harry''s head blurred his vision, not from exhaustion but from a surge of raw emotion that clouded his senses. In this heightened state, his body acted on pure instinct, bypassing the need for conscious thought. His hand moved of its own ord, driven by a deep-seated yearning for retribution, and his wand was raised.

    <em>''Professor Watson, you were wrong about me¡ª''</em>

    The incantation for the most devastating curse he knew hovered on the tip of his tongue, but before the words could take flight, a thought shed through his mind. Then, with a roar that echoed through the forest,

    "Canrady Leviosa!"

    From Hermione''s quiver, an arrow soared skyward, its trajectory swift and true. Emerging from the shroud of night, it sliced through the air with a chilling hiss, homing in on Sirius ck with lethal precision.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    With a swift, desperate motion, Sirius conjured a barrier, ast-ditch defense against the impending strike. In that moment, a dazzling and mournful spark lit up the Forbidden Forest, followed by the sound of the barrier shattering.

    "That was quite a move, Harry. You almost took my life¡ª"

    Sirius''s breath came inbored gasps, his gaze fixed on Harry, aplex tapestry of emotions ying across his features.

    "Of course, I''m not surprised you would do that."

    "Don''t say my name, scum, you''re not worthy!"

    Harry''s voice thundered through the night, a tempest of fury and contempt. His wand, an extension of his seething wrath, was raised high as he took a step towards Sirius ck. His every fiber vibrated with the intent to close the distance, to confront the source of his deepest anguish, even if it meant courting grave injury or embracing death itself.

    Yet, after a mere stride, Harry''s advance was abruptly halted. Hagrid''s massive hand, a force of nature unto itself, reached out and ensnared him, pulling him back with an unyielding grip. Simultaneously, Hermione and Ron, driven by a shared instinct to protect, clung to him with a desperate embrace¡ªHermione encircling his waist, Ron seizing his arm. Amidst Harry''s frenzied struggle to break free, Hermione''s voice pierced the chaos, her plea urgent and clear:

    "Don''t be impulsive, Harry! Let Hagrid handle this!"

    "He killed my parents!" Harry shouted, still struggling.

    "Don''t let this man taint your hands, Harry, let me handle it."

    Hagrid stepped forward, blocking Harry, Ron, and Hermione behind him, and opened his arms like a mother hen protecting her chicks.

    While Hagrid and the others stopped Harry from making any attacking moves, Sirius stood with his hands hanging at his sides, without any defensive posture. He just looked at the scene with a face full of sorrow.

    "When Harry mentioned that dog might be you, I just took it as a joke. I thought it was just a little boy''s wild imagination¡ª"

    Finally, after calming down a bit, Hagrid widened his eyes, exuding a fierce aura, and stared at Sirius, as if he was about to rush over and tear him apart.

    "I have to say, you''re really good at disguises, you despicable traitor. I bet not many people know you''re an illegal Animagus, right?"

    "Actually, there are a handful who are aware¡ª" Sirius began, his voice tinged with resignation, but he was abruptly silenced by Hagrid''s thunderous roar.

    "What did you do to that young wizard? Is he dead?"

    "Calm down, Hagrid," Sirius urged, his frown deepening, his toneden with insistence. "Thed named Malfoy just passed out, he''s not dead."

    "Is that the truth?"

    Regardless, hearing that Malfoy was still alive, Hagrid, as a teacher, felt relieved in his heart, but his tone didn''t soften at all.

    "This isn''t like you, ck. When did you start showing mercy? Did Azkaban soften your heart?"

    "Let me exin, Hagrid."

    Sirius''s forehead showed veins, apparently hurt by Hagrid''s words.

    "Exin?!" Hagrid''s response was a quick shove, his palm striking Harry with such force that it sent him, along with Ron and Hermione, tumbling to the ground. Hagrid''s eyes, dark as the abyss, shed with a fury that could not be contained. In the next breath, he lunged forward, his charge akin to that of a berserk troll, his intent clear and unyielding.

    "You really should exin, ck, not to me, but to James and Lily!" Hagrid roared, his voice a rion call for justice.

    "Keep your hands away, Hagrid! Hear me out!" Sirius pleaded, his voiceced with desperation. The sight of a twelve-foot giant barreling forward with reckless abandon was a sight to behold, the pressure of his approach unmatched. Sirius recoiled, but in a heartbeat, Hagrid had closed the gap to a mere thirty feet. It seemed inevitable that in few moments, Hagrid''s hand, broad as a barn door, woulde crashing down upon Sirius''s head. Before things were rified, Sirius had to consider saving his own life.

    "Stop, Hagrid!"

    In the oppressive forest, two surprised roars suddenly sounded. Sirius''s Stunning spell, intended to incapacitate, harmlessly nced off Hagrid''s resilient hide. From the shadows, a slender rope, swift and serpentine,shed out, ensnaring Hagrid''s legs and sending the gentle giant crashing to the earth with a thunderous impact.

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 0283 Unacceptable

    0283 Uneptable

    The tension in the air was palpable as the scene unfolded in the dimly lit clearing. Hagrid, bound by the constricting ropes, had fallen with a thunderous crash mere steps from Sirius, sending tremors through the earth beneath them. The dust and debris from the impact hung in the air, creating a haze that blurred the lines between friend and foe.

    Harry, with reflexes honed in Quidditch, spun on his heel, his wand slicing through the air to point unerringly towards the source of the attack. Ron and Hermione, were only a fraction slower, their own wands emerging as extensions of their will, ready to defend against the unseen threat. It was only when the shadowy figure stepped into the faint moonlight, revealing the familiar contours of a human form, that the trio allowed themselves a momentary sigh of relief.

    The neer was none other than Professor Lupin, his usuallyposed features marred by a pallor that spoke of exertion and haste. His chest heaved with the effort of his pursuit, and his clothes clung to his frame, damp with the sweat of his exertions.

    "Professor Lupin, Hagrid was dealing with Sirius¨C" Harry began, his voice tinged with anger and confusion, but he was abruptly silenced by a sharp gesture from Lupin. The interruption left Harry bewildered; this was Sirius ck, the man who had betrayed his parents, and yet Lupin, his parent''s old friend, showed no sign of anger, only a bone-deep weariness that seemed to emanate from his very soul.

    Hermione''s sharp intake of breath was audible in the sudden stillness, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes widened in dawning horror.

    "Hey!" The exmation was torn from Hagrid''s lips as he struggled against his bonds. The ropes, conjured by Lupin''s deft magic, were resilient, and though Hagrid''s immense strength allowed him to snap a few strands, they seemed to have a life of their own, twisting and writhing in the air before rejoining as if they had never been severed. Hagrid, unable to rise, could only re balefully at Lupin as the professor strode past him without a word.

    "Your magic is much worse than Bryan''s, Remus. You injured me!" Hagrid''s usation was tinged with a mix of pain and indignation.

    "Calm down, Hagrid," Lupin replied, his voice a soothing balm in the midst of chaos. His hair, usually so well-kept, was now a disheveled mess, clinging to his forehead in damp locks. He moved with purpose, bypassing Hagrid to approach Sirius, who had taken to the ground in a defensive posture to evade the stunning spell. Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, volumes were spoken.

    All eyes were drawn to Lupin, Harry''s included. Yet, as he watched the professor, Harry felt a numbness creeping over him, leaching the strength from his limbs and leaving his gaze hollow.

    The spell he had cast had not touched Sirius, and now, with Hagrid incapacitated and Lupin present, the man he had believed to be the architect of his parents'' deaths had nowhere to run. The Dementors would im him, condemning ck to a life of torment and despair. And if the recent events were true, and Voldemort did indeed return, perhaps he would seek out his loyal servant. Harry''s thirst for vengeance, it seemed, had been quenched by fate''s cruel hand.

    "What happened to Mr. Malfoy?" The question hung in the air, unexpected and jarring.

    To their collective astonishment, Lupin''s attention did not fixate on Sirius but instead turned to the prone form of Draco Malfoy, lying unconscious on the ground. It was a testament to Lupin''s character, his role as an professor overriding any personal feelings he might have harbored towards Sirius. Yet, the gravity of the situation could not be ignored; Sirius ck was a wanted man, an alleged murderer.

    Confusion clouded Hagrid''s features, and Harry''s eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. Ron seemed oblivious to the undercurrents of tension, but Hermione''s face was a mask of terror, her eyes wide with unspoken fears.

    "I didn''t do anything to him. He fainted on his own," Sirius stated, his tone clinical as Lupin knelt beside Draco, his wand casting a soft glow that illuminated the boy''s pallid face. After a brief examination, Lupin''s voice took on a grave form, "It might be the Imperius Curse."

    <em>''The Imperius curse? What curse was that?''</em>

    Harry felt like his brain was rusted, unable toprehend what was happening before his eyes.

    "I think so too," Sirius concurred, his voice devoid of triumph as he rose unsteadily to his feet. His gaze lingered on Draco''s ashen features, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. "And it seems like this little guy has been under control for quite some time. Strange that no one noticed."

    Suddenly, Sirius frowned, remembering the odd behavior he had witnessed from Draco when he saw him in Bryan''s office.

    "What''s wrong?" Lupin inquired, his senses honed to detect any hint of danger.

    "Nothing," Sirius replied, shaking his head slowly. Doubts about whether Bryan had perceived the same anomalies in Draco''s demeanor nagged at him, but such concerns were moot now.

    "By the way, how did you realize something was wrong?" Sirius''s question was directed at Lupin.

    "Thanks to our previous inventions," Remus said with a sinister gleam in his eyes. He nced at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, whose expressions had turned dumbfounded. Then, he took out an old piece of parchment from his pocket and exined,

    "Before this, I left my office to go to the professor''s restroom to freshen up. When I came back, this parchment was lying on my desk, and I was very curious about who put it there. I saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione leaving the castle in a hurry, so I looked for your name on the map. But unexpectedly, I saw Mr. Malfoy''s and that person''s name suddenly appear on the edge of the Forbidden Forest--"

    The person who threw the map into Remus''s office undoubtedly wanted to lure him out. There was no doubt about that, and the reason for doing so was likely to capture them all at once.

    "Why do you have the Marauder''s Map? It belongs to me¡ª"

    If Harry still couldn''t see that ck and Lupin were working together, then he was too foolish. He watched the two of them conversing in a familiar tone, his face expressionless, unable to describe his feelings. However, when he saw ck take the map from Lupin''s hand, which should have belonged to him, he blurted out.

    The sudden outburst from Harry drew the attention of the two men, their conversation halting as they turned to face the group. A moment of stillness ensued, before the realization dawned on Remus that the truth of Sirius''s innocence remained unknown to the young wizards.

    "Don''t worry, Harry--" Remus said, exchanging another nce with Sirius. He took the initiative to exin, "There''s a misunderstanding here. For certain reasons, we haven''t had a chance to exin-"

    "Is that so?" Harry''s response wasced with venom, his green eyes alight with a fury born of betrayal. "You mean to say that you and ck are in league with one another?"

    "Don''t believe anything he says, Harry!" Hermione screamed immediately. "Don''t trust him. He helped ck enter the castle on Halloweenst year. He wants you dead, Harry. He''s a werewolf!"

    The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of Hermione''s usation hanging in the air like a guillotine poised to fall. All eyes turned to Lupin, who met their gazes with a calm that bordered on resignation, a faint smile ying upon his lips.

    "I anticipated this. If any young wizard could figure out my identity, it would be you, Hermione. It''s true that I am working with Sirius, but I wasn''t the one who helped him enter the castle on Halloweenst year."

    "We''ll talk about the werewolf matterter, Hermione¡ª"

    Not knowing when, Hagrid had already broken free from the ropes. He stood up from the ground, breathing heavily, as if he was about to explode.

    "What are you saying, Remus? Are you admitting to the betrayal of Dumbledore''s trust?"

    "We can''t waste any more time. Peter must be watching us somewhere. I know he''s plotting to kill me, and he must not have known about our misunderstanding being resolved. Seeing this, he''s likely preparing to escape!" Sirius said impatiently.

    <em>''Peter? Peter Pettigrew?''</em>

    The mention of Peter Pettigrew sent a ripple of disbelief through the group, but before they could process the revtion, Remus''s voice cut through the tension.

    "You''re right, Sirius--"

    Remus took a deep breath, his eyes alert as he nced at the darkness surrounding them. He quickly said, "Give me five minutes to briefly exin the situation to you all--"

    For the next few minutes, there wasplete silence in the Forbidden Forest. Everyone remained quiet, trying their best to understand Remus''s exnation. However, when Remus finished exining the series of events involving the secret-keeper identities of Sirius and Peter, and when he mentioned the incident on Halloweenst year when Sirius burst into the castle to kill the rat, Ron couldn''t help but exim in excitement,

    Ron''s exmation, a mix of disbelief and dawningprehension, punctuated the silence. "Peter Pettigrew, the traitor to Harry''s parents, has been hiding as my pet rat, Scabbers¡­.... This is nonsense!"

    <strong>"Expelliarmus!"</strong>

    Just as Remus was trying to convince Ron, a suppressed roar came from a nearby tree. Two beams of piercing red light shot out from a certain spot, and both Remus''s and Sirius''s wands flew into the air. After arcing through the sky, theynded precisely in the hands of the person who had slid down from the tall tree trunk.

    Upon hearing that familiar voice, everyone was stunned.

    "It''s rare that you''re clear-headed, Mr. Weasley."

    A sinister face, filled with extreme hatred, emerged from the darkness.

    "I''ve had enough of your nonsense, werewolf!"

    The night air was thick with tension, the forest around them a silent witness to the unfolding drama. Harry stood, his mind reeling from the rapid session of revtions that had turned his world upside down. Professor Lupin, with the Marauder''s Map clutched in his hand, had note to capture Sirius ck but to stand by his side, revealing truths that shattered the narrative Harry had believed for so long.

    Sirius ck, the man Harry had been told was the murderer of his parents, was innocent. The true viin was Peter Pettigrew, the dwarf man awarded the Order of Merlin, First ss, by the Ministry of Magic who had been hiding in in sight as Ron''s pet rat. The thought that he had been living with, and even caring for, the man responsible for his parents'' deaths sent a shiver of horror through Harry''s spine.

    Neither Harry nor Ron coulde to terms with this stagering new reality.

    And then there was Snape, the professor who had always seemed to harbor a deep-seated animosity towards Harry. Now, his hatred was directed at ck and Lupin. With a swift and violent motion, Snape had disarmed them, rendering Lupin unarmed. His wand now pointed menacingly at ck''s eye, Snape''s face twisted with a loathing so intense it seemed he might strike the fatal blow at any moment.

    At that moment, Harry couldn''t tell whose hatred ran deeper as Snape and ck stared each other down.

    "Say something," Snape demanded, his voice a venomous hiss, each word dripping with contempt. "Tell me that everything this werewolf lying on the ground said is false, ck. If you say so, I promise to give you a quick death. Come on, ck, say it!"

    A terrifying light gleamed in Snape''s dark eyes, hisst word emerging as a menacing growl that seemed to echo through the forest.

    In the eerie silence of the forest, a faint sigh was hidden among the rustling of the wind and leaves, unnoticed by anyone.

    Sirius, faced with the prospect of his imminent demise, showed no trace of fear. Instead, a slight grin yed upon his lips, his voice raspy but defiant.

    "You''re making a fool of yourself again, Severus. You haven''t made any progress in all these years."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0284 Truth and Lies

    0284 Truth and Lies

    Sirius faced with the prospect of his imminent demise, showed no trace of fear. Instead, a slight grin yed upon his lips, his voice raspy but defiant.

    "You''re making a fool of yourself again, Severus. You haven''t made any progress in all these years."

    In the three years Harry had been at school, he had mostly seen Snape with two expressions: a pale yellow color on ordinary days and a pale blue color when facing him. But tonight, after Sirius spoke, Harry witnessed a rare abnormal flush on Snape''s face, a sign that his sanity was on the verge of copse.

    Harry felt a desperate need to prevent Snape from killing ck, not before the truth had a chance to surface.

    Lupin believed in ck, and Dumbledore and Professor Watson had put their faith in Lupin. If Lupin''s trust in ck was misced, it would mean that Dumbledore and Watson had been deceived as well.

    "Professor Snape¡ªlisten, I mean, Professor Lupin was just talking aboutst Halloween. It wouldn''t hurt to hear the rest of what they have to say, would it?" Hermione''s voice, usually so confident, now trembled with uncertainty as she cast a worried nce at Lupin''s prone form.

    "Miss Granger, now is not the time to prove that your brain is superior to others. You are on the verge of expulsion from school!" Snape''s shout cut through the air, his wand still trained on ck''s forehead. But as he turned his head, his expression was so terrifying that Harry felt a chill run down his spine, too frightened to interject. Hermione, however, pressed on, her lips quivering.

    "If¡ªif it''s true¡ª"

    "Shut up, you foolish girl!" Snape exploded, his sanity seeming to slip away. "Don''t discuss things you don''t understand!"

    "Severus¡ª" Lupin''s voice was soft, filled with a sorrow that seemed to weigh heavily upon him. "You understand the truth, Severus. You just don''t want to face it."

    "You shut up, werewolf!" Snape''s wand sparked dangerously, and Sirius, sensing the imminent threat, tried to evade, but Snape''s grip on his cor was unyielding.

    "Regardless of whether it''s true or not, ck, you deserve death!" Snape bellowed, his voice echoing with a finality that seemed to seal Sirius''s fate.

    Hearing this, Sirius, who had a defiant expression just moments ago, suddenly froze. Then, his face darkened, and he turned his head to look at Harry. The guilty expression made Harry unable to doubt the truth of what Lupin had just said.

    Ron''s head was shaking almost imperceptibly, his muttering barely audible over the rising tension in the room. The revtion about Scabbers, a pet he had cherished for years, now used of being a murderer, had clearly shaken him to his core. His eyes, usually so full of vitality, were clouded with a turmoil of disbelief and betrayal.

    "Regardless of the truth, Severus¡ª"

    Hagrid, whose towering presence was often a source offort, was the first to regainposure. His usually jovial face was set in a stern frown as he addressed Snape, "This should be left for Professor Dumbledore to judge, Severus. Given the current situation, I think it''s reasonable to let ck live a little longer¡ª"

    Snape, however, seemed like a statue carved from ice, his gaze locked onto ck with an intensity that could shatter ss. His eyes, dark pools of loathing, reflected years of enmity and unspoken history.

    "You want me dead, I don''t mind, Snivellus¡ª"

    Sirius, taking a deep breath, managed to peel his gaze away from Harry, whose features were a haunting echo of James. His voice, though calm, carried an undercurrent of urgency, "But that rat, Peter, he shouldn''t have gotten far. If we don''t catch him tonight, he''ll escape!"

    A muscle in Snape''s cheek gave a hard twitch, yet his grip on Sirius''s cor remained as unyielding as iron chains.

    "Severus¡ª"

    Lupin, who was half-kneeling on the ground, looked as though he had been drained of all energy. His voice, however, was unwavering as he said, "You may not believe us, but you should believe Bryan, right?"

    <em>''Bryan?''</em>

    A flicker of uncertainty crossed Snape''s features. Bryan wasn''t mentioned in what Lupin had just said. What did this have to do with him?

    "¨CYou came out too early earlier, and I hadn''t finished telling the rest," Lupin''s eyes, filled with a desperate sincerity, met Snape''s. "In fact, before Christmas, Bryan caught Sirius. He examined Sirius''s memories and confirmed that it was indeed Peter who killed James and Lily. To avoid alerting Peter, who was lurking in the shadows, he decided not to make a big deal out of it. You should have seen a ck cat named Tom around Bryan, that''s Sirius¨C"

    In the dimly lit room, Harry''s mouth opened slightly, his expression a mirror of bewilderment that matched Hermione''s. Even Ron, who had always been Scabbers''s staunchest defender, was rendered speechless, his body rigid as if struck by a Petrificus Totalus spell.

    "This is a lie," Snape''s gaze dropped, bing distant and unfocused, a clear sign of him employing lumency to shield his thoughts. "You know that Dumbledore and Bryan have left the school. You''re trying to help this criminal escape, aren''t you? I can see through your intentions, Lupin."

    "If you can truly see through, Severus."

    Lupin didn''t avoid Snape''s gaze, saying firmly, "Then you should know that every word I''ve said is true."

    ..............................

    Bryan stood with his arms crossed on high ground, his silhouette etched against the darkening sky. The wild wind tousled his hair, a few strands of gray hair fell in front of his eyes, but they couldn''t hide the deep gaze he cast upon Professor Snape. The intensity of his stare seemed to pierce through the gathering dusk, reaching out to the man who stood a short distance away.

    Bryan knew the immense pain this man was facing in his heart.Severus Snape, this man lived for hatred and protection, but now, half of the reasons that kept him going were crumbling, which was extremely cruel for him. The revtion that had unfolded before Snape''s eyes was not just a simple truth¡ªit was a mirror reflecting the agony of years spent in the shadows, fueled by a vendetta that had given him purpose.

    Previously, Bryan had already encountered the possibilities of Snape knowing the truth, but he still let Professor Snape witness everything personally. It was something he had to face, and it was fair for him.

    He looked up at the night sky, the moon, hundreds of thousands of kilometers away, emitted a hazy blood-red light. Bryan frowned, the moon was almost full. The crimson hue that bathed the lunar surface was an ominous sign, a prelude to the transformation that threatened to unleash the beast within.

    Peter, lurking in a tree hollow two hundred feet away, trembled when he learned that Bryan had known Sirius was innocent. He couldn''t wait any longer, the situation hadpletely gone beyond his control, and now he had to escape. His heart pounded against his chest, a frantic rhythm that echoed the fear coursing through his veins.

    Just as he was about to stick his head out of the tree hollow, a sudden gust of wind blew, followed by rustling sounds. Peter quickly hid his head again, not exposing himself to the moonlight.

    Tonight, Harry, Ron, and Hermione appeared in the Forbidden Forest. Who reminded them? The question gnawed at Peter''s mind, a puzzle that added to the chaos of the night.

    Remus Lupin also followed, holding the Marauders Map in his hand. This was so strange, Peter didn''t remember them making two copies back then.

    And there was Severus Snape. It seemed like they had all agreed to meet in the Forbidden Forest. These thingspletely exceeded his n, and now they all knew the truth from back then. The truth that had been buried underyers of deceit and misunderstanding was nowid bare for all to see.

    Two beams of light, even darker than the darkness, shot out from thepletely submerged tree hollow. It was now impossible for him to return to the Weasley boy. Now, he could only wait and see how effective his preparations would be.

    Snape pointed his wand at Sirius''s forehead, but his trembling wrist showed his inner struggle. The wand, an extension of his will, quivered as if it were a living thing, reflecting the turmoil that raged within Snape''s soul.

    Time seemed to stand still. After Lupin revealed Bryan''s name, he didn''t say anything else. The trio of Harry, Ron, and Hermione seemed to have be mere spectators, unable to intervene. They watched, their young faces etched with concern and confusion, as the drama unfolded before them.

    Sirius and Snape''s gazes met under the night sky. There was less hatred in their eyes, but the looks exchanged between the two middle-aged men over thirty were filled with confusion. The animosity that had once defined their rtionship was giving way to a dawning realization that the world was not as ck and white as they had believed.

    <em>''What is truth and what is lie?''</em> At this moment, they were all pondering this question.

    "It''s time to end this, Severus¨C" Lupin said, "Let''s go back to the castle together and bring Dumbledore and Bryan back. We need to rify everything."

    <em>''Time to end it?''</em> Harry felt a sense of mncholy. He opened his mouth to ask what would happen to Peter, but in the end, he didn''t say anything. The words died on his lips, a silent testament to theplexity of the emotions that swirled within him.

    "You take Draco, Hagrid¨C" Snape''s voice sounded hoarse, as if he had been running a high fever for a week. His face returned to its usual waxen color, but from the gaze he fixed on Sirius, it was clear that the intent to kill in his heart had notpletely dissipated, he was just trying to restrain it. The effort to maintain control was etched in the lines of his face, a mask that barely concealed the storm within.

    Hagrid nced at Harry and let out a heavy sigh. He walked towards Lupin and easily broke the ropes that bound Lupin''s hands and feet. This also meant that he already believed Sirius was innocent, but he still said to Sirius with a fierce tone, "You still have a lot to exin, boy!"

    After saying this, Hagrid bent down and easily lifted the unconscious Draco with hisrge hands. At this moment, something fell out of Draco''s pocket and slowly floated down, attracting everyone''s attention. It was the Marauder''s Map! The parchment that had guided so many adventures nowy on the forest floor, a silent witness to the night''s revtions.

    Lupin, who was nearby, was stunned. He stared at the map on the ground for a few seconds, then put his hand into his robe pocket and took out another map. The impossibility of the situation was written all over his face, a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

    "How is this possible¨C" Sirius also noticed this unusual urrence. He instinctively asked, but what happened next interrupted his words.

    In a moment of sheer bewilderment, Lupin''s map suddenly flew out from his grasp by an unseen force, levitating before him as if caught in an invisible updraft. Simultaneously, its twin on the ground began to mimic its movements, and both mapsmenced a rapid rotation around an unseen axis, akin to two celestial supernovas spiraling towards an inevitable collision.

    The velocity of their rotation escted exponentially, transforming the scene into a dizzying vortex of parchment and ink. Within mere seconds, the spectacle had morphed into a whirlpool, a maelstrom of magical energy that seemed to defy the veryws of physics.

    Then, as if the heavens themselves had split open, a burst of golden-red light exploded forth, its brilliance rivaling that of the sun and casting an ethereal glow over the Forbidden Forest. The eruption was apanied by a violent wind, the product of the unleashed magical phenomenon.

    Lupin and Sirius, who had been perilously close to the epicenter, were sent hurtling through the air like ragdolls caught in a hurricane. Hagrid, his eyes shielded by a burly arm, was forced to retreat, his massive frame stumbling back several paces. Snape, with quick reflexes, conjured a protective barrier with a flick of his wand, sparing himself from the magical onught.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0285 A Fair exchange

    0285 A Fair exchange

    A short distance away, the trio were spared the brunt of the chaos. As the blinding light began to wane, they witnessed the convergence of the two Marauder''s Maps into a singr entity, a fusion of magical cartography that left only one map in its wake.

    High above, Bryan observed the scene with a mixture of astonishment and curiosity. How many maps had merged into one? Two, or perhaps three? He pondered the implications of such a phenomenon¡ªwould a wizard encountering their temporal original self during time travel be subject to a simr, bizarre fate?

    <strong>Hmmm</strong>

    A muffled cry of anguish pierced the silence of the forest, drawing everyone''s attention to the inner depths of the forest.

    Snape, who was vignt and wary of Sirius trying to escape, halted abruptly. And pointed his wand towards the source of the disturbance.

    Meanwhile, the others were still reeling from the aftershocks of the map''s explosive union.

    "Are you all right, Ron, Hermione?" Harry''s voice wasced with concern as he scrambled to his feet and rushed to aid his friends.

    "Ow, my bum hurts!" Ronmented, massaging his buttocks with a grimace. "Can someone tell me what the hell is going on? Harry, did you know there were actually two of these Marauder maps?"

    "Fred and George never mentioned this to me," Harry replied, his gaze fixed on the parchment beneath Snape''s feet, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

    "Don''t be silly, you two," Hermione chided softly, her brow furrowed in concentration as she too studied the parchment. Unnoticed by the others, her hand brushed against the small funnel concealed beneath her shirt, her expression growing increasingly grave.

    Sirius and Lupin, battered but ok, limped back to the group. They noticed Snape''s vignt posture and looked around with confusion, squinting their eyes.

    As experienced wizards who hade through the war, their attention had been drawn to other things earlier, but now they couldn''t fail to notice the chilling aura creeping in from all directions like mist.

    "Severus¡ª" Lupin began, plucking a damp leaf from his cheek before extending a hand towards Snape, "I need to get my wand back, I assume you don''t mind, right?"

    "You three,e over here!" Hagrid''s booming voice cut through the tension, beckoning Harry and his friends who were still confused. "Now is not the time to dawdle!"

    "What''s going on, Hagrid?" The trio exchanged bewildered nces, their voices ovepping in confusion. As they drew nearer, Hagrid deftly maneuvered Malfoy under his arm, corralling the three students behind him while reiming his crossbow from Hermione.

    "We''ve been ambushed," Sirius said with a serious expression. Snape didn''t hand him his wand, so he had to face the chaotic darkness with his bare hands.

    Harry cast a sidelong nce at Sirius, but didn''t say anything. Sirius was still not on his list of trusted individuals.

    In that moment, Hagrid positioned Malfoy within the protective circle formed by the adult wizards. Harry and Ron, with evident distaste, secured Malfoy''s arms, ensuring he would not fall down.

    "Who is attacking us, Hagrid?"

    The tense and intense atmosphere made Hermione''s face turn pale. Her voice trembled as she asked, "Could it be the Centaurs--"

    "I''m afraid not, Miss Granger--" Lupin said with a bitter face, "They are much more dangerous and evil creatures than Centaurs--"

    As his words hung in the air, a gust of wind swept through the clearing, sending a cascade of leaves fluttering to the ground.

    A mocking voice suddenly echoed through the deste Forbidden Forest,

    "it''s quite ironic to hear such an evaluation from your mouth--"

    In the dim moonlight, a man with messy beard and disgusting yellow teeth, exuding a bloody smell, slowly appeared.

    "My friend, Remus!"

    <em>''Professor Lupin''s friend?''</em>

    Harry was taken aback for a moment, his heart pounding against his chest as he instinctively wanted to look at Lupin for answers. But as his gaze moved up, he identally caught a glimpse of Ron and Hermione''s expressions. They both had frozen expressions, their faces pale as if they had seen a ghost, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and disbelief.

    "What''s going on? Do you guys know this guy?" Harry''s voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of the tension that filled the room.

    "He''s Greyback, the leader of the werewolves. I saw his wanted poster in the Daily Prophet," Hermione''s voice trembled, just like her body.

    <em>''So, he''s a notorious criminal?''</em> Harry instinctively thought, but from Ron''s fearful expression, it seemed that it wasn''t that simple.

    "Don''t tell me you don''t know Greyback, Harry," Ron said in a hushed voice, his words barely audible. He lowered his head and didn''t even dare to look at the man, as if the very sight of him could bring about a curse.

    "Greyback is particrly brutal. He prefers to prey on underage children, not to devour them, but to turn them into his kind by biting. He expands his power in this way." The words spilled from Ron''s lips, each one heavy with the gravity of the situation.

    Harry hesitated, the implications of Ron''s words sinking in.<em> ''Turned into a werewolf?''</em>

    A chill rose from his stomach to his forehead, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow. In an instant, Harry''s forehead started to sweat, his mind racing with the horrific possibilities. He couldn''t imagine what would happen if he were to be turned into a werewolf. The Dursleys would definitely kick him out, and he would be left to wander, an outcast from both the wizarding and Muggle worlds.

    "As Ron said," Professor Lupin said bitterly, his voiceced with a pain that went beyond physical wounds, "that''s how I became a werewolf." His back was turned to them, as if he couldn''t bear to face the reality of his past beingid bare for all to see.

    "What do you want, Greyback!" Hagrid roared angrily, his voice booming through the hall like thunder. "Are you nning to wage war against both Hogwarts and the centaurs? You know, if you dare to do that, Dumbledore won''t let you off!"

    "Oh, why would you think that?" Greyback''s voice sounded smooth, but his eyes remained cold, devoid of any warmth or humanity. "We''ve been very sensible, haven''t we, Hagrid? For all these years, we haven''t harmed those foolish children who sneak into the Forbidden Forest, and we haven''t provoked those centaurs. Werewolves have always been good neighbors, haven''t we?" His words dripped with sarcasm, a twisted smile ying on his lips.

    Looking at the pretentious Greyback, Lupin took a deep breath, steeling himself for the confrontation. "Then what is your purpose for appearing here tonight, Greyback?" he asked with a cold face, his voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface.

    "Those who betray their own kind are not qualified to talk to me," Greyback sneered contemptuously, ncing at Lupin with disdain. His eyes with vertical pupils revealed a malicious intent.

    "Tell us your purpose, Greyback," Snape said in a low and dangerous tone. Even Harry and the others could hear the danger in his voice, a warning of the storm that was brewing.

    "These years, you''ve been living well under Dumbledore''s protection, Severus¨C" Greyback seemed to bepletely unaware of the hostility in Snape''s questioning tone. He smirked deliberately.

    "And we''ve been hiding and evading the pursuit of the Ministry of Magic, barely surviving. Why didn''t you think of helping out an old friend, Severus? After all, we used to work together¨C"

    Harry couldn''t help but re at Snape with disgust.

    There were rumors in school that Snape used to be one of Voldemort''s followers, and now, those rumors seemed to be confirmed.

    Being surrounded by arge group of werewolves, it was impossible not to be nervous, especially since Harry and the others were here. If any of these young wizards were harmed tonight, it was not hard to imagine the bacshDumbledore and Hogwarts would face.

    "Either state your purpose clearly or get lost, Greyback!"

    Hagrid roared in a low voice, and his appearance as a twelve-foot-tall giant was indeed intimidating. Greyback slightly adjusted his posture and coldly smiled, seeming unfazed by the threat.

    "An old friend wrote us a letter, saying that tonight we would meet someone we have been longing to see¨C"

    <em>''Was Greyback also looking for ck?''</em> That was the first thought that came to Harry''s mind, but then he realized it was wrong. The person who wrote the letter was definitely not well-intentioned.

    "Maybe it''s Scabbers¨C" Hermione whispered softly, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

    At this point, the situation had developed beyond what young wizards could intervene in. Harry and the others could only quietly wait and see how things unfolded.

    Greyback''s voice sliced through the stillness, cold and sharp as a de of ice. "But I think we''ve been deceived,"

    "I searched the area with my fellow werewolves, but we didn''t find the person we wanted to kill. Instead, we stumbled upon this¡­ spectacle," he sneered, his eyes gleaming with a cruel amusement.

    Lupin, his face a mask of restrained fury, opened his mouth to retort, but Greyback''s attention had already shifted, his predatory gaze locking onto Sirius with a calcting intensity.

    "Perhaps this is fate''s own charity," Greyback mused aloud, a twisted smile ying upon his lips. "You know, the life of a werewolf is full of hardships, and the chance to im fifty thousand Galleons does note often."

    Sirius hesitated for a moment, then his eyes showed a hint of hostility.

    "Werewolves have no desire to be at odds with Hogwarts, Hagrid," Greyback continued, his voice a sinister luby as he gestured covertly to his hidden pack. His finger, aglow with an eerie silver light, pointed usingly at Sirius and Remus.

    "Hand over ck and this traitor to us, and then you can take the others and leave, Hagrid."

    Upon hearing this request, Snape''s eyes flickered. He nced at the two people named by Greyback and a mocking smile appeared on his face.

    "A fair exchange, I believe," Snape purred. "What say you, gentlemen? Will you demonstrate the valor and selflessness befitting your reputations?"

    Harry was certain that Lupin and Sirius would reject such an outrageous demand. Yet, to his astonishment, after they exchanged nces, Lupin actually said with a serious face,

    "If we agree to your terms, will you truly let the others go, Greyback?"

    "Professor Lupin!" Hermione''s exmation was a mix of shock and disbelief, her voice reverting to the formal address out of sheer reflex.

    "You can''t negotiate with werewolves. They''re not trustworthy. Oh, Sorry, I meant¡ªthese particr werewolves are not very trustworthy."

    Perhaps because Hermione started calling him "Professor" again, Remus looked pleased. He smiled gently and said,

    "You don''t understand the gravity of the situation, Miss Granger."

    "No, Remus!" Hagrid also said roughly. "Professor Dumbledore wouldn''t agree with your decision, we must all return to Hogwarts!"

    Not only were Harry and the others shocked by Remus''s decision, but Snape was too. When he heard that Remus and Sirius were truly willing to stay behind, the satisfaction on his face disappeared, and his expression turned very ugly.

    "So, what is your decision?"

    Greyback admired his metallic hand in the crimson moonlight, sounding a bit impatient. Truth be told, he wished none of them could escape tonight, but even werewolves have enemies they dare not provoke. If he really did that, he would probably have to move his entire pack out of Europe.

    "Hagrid, we must prioritize the safety of Harry and the others," Lupin stated, his voice resolute.

    "No!" Harry shouted vehemently. He realized that if they really left Lupin and Sirius behind, they would be in great danger. "If we''re going, we must all go back together!"

    "You''re as brave as your father, Harry."

    Sirius sniffed and said sentimentally,

    "But what Remus said is right. You kids can''t handle this group of werewolves."

    Sirius and Remus''s decision made Hagrid hesitate as well. He knew the gravity of the situation, but at the same time, he also knew that if he left Remus behind, the werewolves would definitely not let him off easily. And Sirius would surely be killed, and his body would be handed over to the Ministry of Magic for a reward. The Ministry of Magic would prefer Sirius to die as a criminal rather than as a wrongly used hero.

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 0286 Killing Night

    0286 Killing Night

    "Hagrid, I don''t want to leave!" Harry''s voice was resolute, his grip on his wand firm as he faced the looming threat. His eyes, filled with the fire of determination, met Lupin''s.

    "If my dad were here, he wouldn''t want me to be a coward."

    Snape sneered, but Sirius red at him angrily.

    "You don''t understand, Harry!" Lupin''s voice was tinged with anger and desperation. "This is not like the petty conflicts you have with Malfoy at school. This is real battle. Do you know what it means? You will see lives of enemies or friends wither in front of you. You will see hot blood stter on your face from those gruesome wounds. You will hear cries more terrifying, far more terrifying than any dementor''s howl. This is not something any young wizard can bear."

    "But¨C" Hermione''s voice quivered with fear, yet she found the strength to speak. "Harry defeated an inferist year. Professor Watson always encouraged us to face real danger. He believed it would help us grow."

    Lupin''s response was choked with emotion, his beliefs shing with the harsh reality they faced. "I don''t deny Bryan''s words, but I just think it''s too radical!"

    "Go back to school, Potter¨C" Snape''smand cut through the tension, his tone irritatingly familiar, yet it held a gravity that underscored the severity of their situation. "This isn''t the Quidditch pitch where you can y the hero."

    Harry''s re at Snape was fierce, but it was met with an unfathomable depth in Snape''s eyes, a darkness that seemed to swallow all his anger without a trace.

    "Listen to me, all of you¨C"

    At the final moment, Hagrid made up his mind. He spoke in a voice that only they could hear.

    "We''ll break through together. Sirius, you take the kids on your motorbike and go back to the castle. Once you escape, these werewolves won''t be able to do anything to the rest of us!"

    "What are you nning?"

    Greyback finally lost his patience. He made a gesture, and in the surrounding woods, nearly hundreds of werewolves, who he had brought to deal with the Golden Viper, revealed themselves from the trees. Although these werewolves still looked like humans, the savagery and ferocity in their eyes made the young wizards who had never seen war shiver.

    "Attack!" Hagrid suddenly roared, and Lupin immediately raised his wand and shot a brilliant firework into the deep and unfathomable night sky.

    "Damn bastards!"

    When Lupin''s distress signal went out, Greyback finally reacted. After a mournful howl, his form underwent a drastic change.

    In an instant, Greyback disappeared, reced by a werewolf with grey fur covered in sharp spines. It was only slightly shorter than Hagrid, and its eyes were incredibly sinister and bloodthirsty. The Werewolf Greyback howled at the blood moon in the sky, and his howl seemed to be a signal, as the surrounding werewolves howled one after another!

    "Oh God, we''re doomed¨C"

    Ron looked desperate, his legs about to give way, but Hagrid lifted him up with one hand and shouted, "Charge!"

    Hagrid threw Ron to Lupin and took the lead in the charge. At this moment, several werewolves, unable to contain their desire to attack, had already reached Hagrid. In Harry''s terrified gaze, Hagrid swung his hand, and the leading werewolf''s head deformed, flying more than ten feet in the air before falling to the ground.

    Hagrid immediately kicked out, apanied by a bone-cracking sound. The second werewolf''s mouth sprayed blood, and Harry, with his excellent visual perception, could even see the broken ribs piercing through the werewolf''s skin, suspended in the air¡ªthe creature was surely dead.

    In the next moment, many things happened at once.

    Greyback suddenly pounced into the air, baring his sharp teeth at Professor Lupin. The murderous smile made Hermione scream, and Lupin, holding Malfoy, took a step forward and thrust his wand forward like a fencing move.

    "Protego Maxima!"

    A faintly visible barrier bloomed in front of Lupin with a gentle breeze, blocking Greyback''s leap just in time.

    Snape''s face turned icy. He swung his wand down, and in a sh, Harry seemed to hear the sound of a de being unsheathed. The five or six werewolves charging at Snape collided with the high-speed flying des.

    Flesh flew, and the stench of blood filled the sky.

    This cruel scene had an unparalleled impact on the worldview of the young wizards in the greenhouse. Not to mention Ron, at one moment, even Harry felt his legs go weak. He couldn''t believe what he was seeing. He couldn''t imagine that Snape, who was usually in the dark and damp dungeons, apanied by disgusting frog brains and bat livers, could be so powerful.

    Sirius was facing no fewer werewolves than any of them, and his wand was still in Snape''s hands.

    In the midst of the continuous howling of the wolves, Sirius''s body suddenly grew taller, transforming into arge ck dog the size of a ck bear. Facing the werewolves leaping at him, he charged forward with an equally imposing posture. The sound of their heavy bodies colliding made one''s blood run cold.

    Since entering Hogwarts, Harry, Hermione, and Ron had faced and dealt with many crises together.

    Those legendary experiences were something that most adult wizards couldn''t experience. But for the battle in front of them, Harry had to admit, they were all powerless.

    Painful wails, desperate eyes on the verge of death, blood-red flowers blooming and withering before their eyes.

    Sirius roared as he wrestled with several werewolves. This created an opening in the constantly moving formation, and a werewolf missing an ear took advantage of this opportunity to charge at the group.

    "Expelliarmus!"

    Harry instinctively raised his hand and cast a spell, but the red light of the Disarming Charm clearly hit the werewolf, only grazing the fur of the earless werewolf and flying past, having no effect on him!

    <strong>Roar!</strong>

    In a critical moment, Sirius desperately shook off a werewolf biting his hind leg and pounced on him like a madman. He bit the back of the earless werewolf''s neck, throwing him away. But immediately after being thrown off, the werewolves that had just been shaken off surrounded Sirius again, each biting one of Sirius''s four legs and retreating in different directions, seemingly intending to tear Sirius apart!

    "No!"

    Harry shouted, about to rush forward, but he suddenly noticed Sirius''s gaze. In those gray eyes, there was a resolute determination.

    <strong>Roar!</strong>

    Sirius howled at Harry again, and Harry couldn''t understand, but he understood that Sirius didn''t allow him to charge forward. He was ordering him to retreat.

    Although Sirius and Professor Lupin hadn''t finished exining everything looking into those determined eyes, Harry finally believed at that moment¡ªSirius was innocent. The one who killed his parents was Ron''s rat, that man named Peter Pettigrew!

    Time seemed to stand still at this moment. Apart from Hagrid leading the way forward, Lupin and Snape also noticed the danger Sirius was facing. However, Greyback''s interference prevented Lupin from freeing himself, so he could only stare at Sirius about to be torn apart.

    Snape''s pale cheeks twitched suddenly. No one knew howplex his internal struggle was at this moment, how much pain he had ovee. In any case, he withdrew his wand and aimed it at Sirius, ready to lend a hand.

    "Avada Kedavra!"

    Just before Snape''s wand fell, above the noisy battlefield, a sharp cry overwhelmed all the noise on the battlefield. Death, wielding its scythe, nestled in the dismal green light, suddenly appeared above Sirius''s head!

    A green light, which seemed toe from nowhere, shot past Harry''s eyes. In the horrified gaze of everyone, it gradually approached the stiffened Sirius!

    In a life-or-death situation, Harry, who was closest to Sirius, couldn''t react because he was in trouble himself. It felt like a burning hot branding iron was forcefully pressed against his scar, causing intense burning pain and the sudden surge of a woman''s scream in his mind. Harry fainted, his body uncontrobly going limp.

    Snape was the only one who could save Sirius, but his attention was momentarily drawn to the fallen Harry, causing him to miss the best opportunity to act.

    Remus looked desperate, and Sirius facing the Grim Reaper''s scythe, had a look of relief in his gray eyes as if a long exhausting journey was finallying to an end.

    <em>''James, Lily¡­.. I''m sorry I couldn''t avenge you, and Regulus, forgive me for not being able to give you a decent funeral. And Harry, I couldn''t fulfill my duty as your godfather¡ª''</em>

    In his final moments, a tear slid down Sirius''s cheek.

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    Rocks flew and the green light dissipated!

    Just as the Killing Curse was five feet away from Sirius, the moment the Grim Reaper''s scythe was about to fall, a stone wall suddenly grew from the soft ground. In the blink of an eye, it blocked the approaching Killing Curse and also sent the two werewolves attacking Sirius flying.

    The chaotic battlefield fell silent for a moment, and everyone couldn''t understand how that scene had just happened.

    "Was it you who saved me?"

    Sirius, having thrown off the werewolves that clung to his limbs, stood up panting. He looked around and only saw Snape''s wand pointed at him. After a moment of silence, he nodded at Snape.

    "It wasn''t me--"

    Snape said through clenched teeth, not eager to take credit for this save.

    But his self-denial was taken as modesty, because the adult wizards present here knew about Snape and Sirius''s long-standing grudges, and they all thought Snape was just being shy.

    "Anyway, Severus--"

    Lupin patted Snape''s shoulder, gasping for breath, and gratefully said, "Thank you for saving Sirius."

    Snape couldn''t move his hand in time to avoid Lupin''s pat, but when he heard Lupin''s words of gratitude, his face turnedpletely red, as if he had been insulted.

    <em>''Who cast that Killing Curse just now?''</em> Everyone had the same thought in their minds, and they had almost the same answer.

    But the crazed werewolves didn''t care about that. Under the influence of the approaching full moon''s magic, one werewolf after another fell into madness. The werewolves charging at them from all directions formed an almost imprable wall.

    "Don''t just stand there, run!"

    Hagrid roared low, clearing a path for them. But he himself was trapped, with several werewolves hanging onto him, biting and tearing at him. This also triggered Hagrid''s ferocity. After a dragon-like roar, Hagrid grabbed the throats of two werewolves with his hands and used them as weapons to kill in all directions!

    "Go!"

    Snape tossed Sirius''s wand back to him, then, with a dazed Harry tucked under his arm, roughly pushed the bewildered Hermione.

    In this critical moment, Lupin finally started to take action. He swung his wand widely, and the tip of the wand shed continuously. Three blue curses exploded in the chests of several werewolves, and those werewolves were thrown into the air, howling in agony. When they fell back to the ground, they were already lifeless.

    "Shameless traitor!"

    Greyback roared thunderously, his sturdy limbs gripping the ground. In the next second, he turned into a phantom, crashing through Remus''s conjured barrier and rolling into a tangle with him, and rushed out of the ce protecting Harry and the others.

    "Remus!"

    Sirius shouted, wanting to rush to save Remus, However, he himself was also the main target of the werewolves, and he was tired of dealing with the endless stream of werewolves rushing up to him.

    <strong>Roar!</strong> What he saw next, Harry bet he would never forget it until his death!

    A terrible roar sounded, and Lupin''s head elongated, his body grew, his shoulders arched, and fur sprouted on his face and hands, his fingers turning into sharp ws. Professor Lupin stood on two feet like a bear, entangled with Greyback, their mouths tearing at each other, and with every swipe of their ws, a string of bright red jewels flew from their opponent''s body.

    Harry stood there in a daze, forgetting to move.

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 0287 Intense Fighting

    0287 Intense Fighting

    Harry stood there in a daze, forgetting to move.

    "But--" Hermione managed to maintain some basic sanity. She looked at the moon in the sky, her voice trembling with fear, "It''s not a full moon today, if if I remember correctly!"

    "The virus in Greyback''s teeth disrupted the bnce of magic in his body!"

    Snape''s voice almost squeezed out from between his teeth. His greasy hair was soaked with sweat, sticking to his cheeks. His wand swung so fast that it left afterimages. Every time it struck, several werewolf''s bodies were torn apart or bounced back by an indestructible barrier.

    The deafening roar seemed to burst people''s eardrums. The dying wails and howls of the werewolves were far more terrifying than any sound Harry had ever heard. Now, he finally understood why even Professor Watson, with his bold teaching style, didn''t dare to let younger wizards deal with werewolves!

    At this point, both sides were fighting with bloodshot eyes.

    It turned out that Greyback had given orders to his subordinates not to harm the young wizards of Hogwarts, but at this point, the werewolves had lost their sanity, and his orders were not as effective as before.

    "Get down, Harry!"

    Sirius suddenly leaped up, stepping on the shoulder of a werewolf about to fall, and leaped across the distance to tackle Harry to the ground. They rolled on the ground for a few rounds, crashing into the lower body of a werewolf before stopping.

    "Harry!"

    Ron''s legs went weak, and he copsed to the ground along with Malfoy. Facing the ferocious pack of werewolves, Hermione was drenched in sweat, trembling as she raised her wand, but her mind was nk.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    Immediately after, the werewolves pinning Harry down were all sent flying. Sirius gave up using his wand to fight the werewolves and transformed into his Animagus form. He shielded Harry with his body, and a trickle of blood from the cut eyebrow stained his gray eyes red. He snarled at the approaching werewolves, ready to pounce.

    At the moment when Harry was released, Snape''s breath almost stopped, the color drained from his face, and his chest only rose and fell again when Sirius sent the werewolves flying.

    Snape''s body shook uncontrobly, his lips parched, but his eyes nearly spat fire, his reason prevented him from leaving Hermione and Ron, though he didn''t realize his expression was more ferocious than ever before.

    Thick, foul-smelling ck smoke billowed from Snape''s wand tip, obscuring the night sky. The nauseating smoke grew against the wind, turning into ck pythons that entwined the approaching werewolves. The smoke-formed pythons clearly possessed incredible toxicity and corrosiveness, the werewolves they ensnared screaming in agony before their bodies visibly melted away like snowmen near a fire.

    The thick scent of blood and the gruesome scene made Hermione and Ron vomit, and the spell that killed over twenty werewolves also greatly exhausted Snape. He staggered, seeing double of everything before him.

    The werewolves had lost nearly half their numbers, but they still had sufficient forces, and Hagrid''s motorcycle was still behind the wall formed by the werewolves. It seemed their chances of breaking through were slim!

    Sirius protected Harry under him, ring fiercely at his surroundings with a savage look. The ferocious aura andrger size than ordinary werewolves temporarily intimidated the approaching werewolves, but it was only temporary. These vicious dark creatures surrounded Sirius and Harry, trying to find a weakness.

    Lying on the ground, Harry looked up at therge ck dog just inches away, looking at his horrifying wounds, He was speechless for a moment.

    Snape was also at his limit, but the intimidating power of his dark magic from earlier made the werewolves hesitate to approach for the time being.

    Hermione, Ron, and Draco''s lives now depended on Snape. For the first time in his life, Ron began to pray for Snape, hoping he could hold on a little longer. Hermione gathered her courage and tremblingly asked.

    "Professor, what can I do for you?"

    Snape was slightly surprised by Hermione''s concern. He lowered his head and looked deeply into her eyes, filled with concern and tears. Then, as if being burned, he looked away, his lips moved, but he didn''t say anything.

    Greyback and Remus had already left the battlefield. Their fight resembling that of two rabid dogs. Wherever they went, soil flew and blood sttered. Thick beech and pine trees were uprooted, resembling the aftermath of a hurricane.

    Hagrid still had a few werewolves hanging onto him. If it weren''t for his unique bloodline and extraordinary resistance to werewolf venom, Hagrid would not have escaped tonight.

    Despair filled the hearts of everyone on the Hogwarts side. There were simply too many werewolves, and they were powerless to break free.

    Suddenly, the ground began to shake, and a rumbling sound came from a direction in the Forbidden Forest, catching everyone''s attention. It was a rhythmic and numerous sound of hooves. Harry reacted the fastest, flipping out from under Sirius''s belly and eximed in joy,

    "It''s the Centaurs!"

    Harry was right. The arrivals were the elite warriors of the Centaur tribe, led by Firenze, Ronan, and Bane. They stood on the outskirts of the battlefield, raising their hooves and staring in shock at the brutalized wolf corpses hanging from tree branches, vines, and the ground.

    "What''s going on, Hagrid?" Bane angrily paused his hooves and said in a stern voice, "I thought you came to find the lost young wizard, but instead, you''re at war with these despicable creatures in the Centaurs''s territory!"

    "It''s a long story, Bane!" Hagrid wiped the blood off his face and said panting, "Anyway, it wasn''t Hogwarts who started this. Weren''t you looking for trouble with the werewolves? Why did Greyback target us?"

    "Somebody deliberately misled us¡ª"Firenze vigntly stared at the ugly werewolves on the outer circle and said with a deeper meaning, "We found the lost member of our tribe, but it wasn''t the werewolves who kidnapped him. It was a transfigured sculpture. This is a wizard''s trick. We suspect it was a diversion, to kidnap the foals while our best warriors were away."

    Firenze''s silver-maned horse body shimmered in the moonlight,

    "We prepared to rush back to the tribe as quickly as possible, but we heard themotion here on the way."

    More than twenty centaurs, who were not much shorter than Hagrid, held spears and stared at the werewolves with unfriendly eyes, making the wolf pack restless.

    "Thank God¡ª"

    Ron, drenched in sweat, finally regained his ability to speak. His face was pale, and a tremendous sense of fear had pierced through his mental defenses. He spoke with a mix of crying andughter,

    "I thought we were done for. Aren''t we lucky?"

    "Can''t you see, Ron¡ª" Gritting her teeth, Hermione said, "Somebody has orchestrated all of this. We''ve fallen into a trap."

    "Are you talking about Pettigrew, that rat¡ª" Ron asked in a dazed manner, "But ck and Lupin said he was the traitor who betrayed Harry''s parents¡ª"

    Hermione was used to Ron''s slowness, and while the werewolves were still intimidated, Harry, supporting the barely standing Sirius, came to Snape''s side.

    Although there were only a little over twenty centaurs, each one was an elite warrior of the tribe. Theirbat power was not inferior to the remaining werewolves. Therefore, without direct orders from Greyback, the werewolves did not dare tounch an attack recklessly.

    "Firenze¡ª"

    Harry urgently wanted to say something, but before he could, Firenze, who had avoided the encirclement of the werewolves and came to their side, did not give Harry a chance to speak. He calmly said,

    "You should return to the school now, Harry Potter. The battlefield belongs to the centaurs next. We have endured these despicable dark creatures for long enough. It''s a good opportunity to drive them out of the Forbidden Forest."

    "Just you try!"

    As Firenze''s words fell, on the other side, Greyback and the transformed Lupin finally determined the winner. In their duel as werewolves, it was foreseeable that Lupin would lose. His entire body was covered in horrifying bite marks, and in the most severe ce, a chunk of flesh had been torn off.

    Lupin''s head and two elongated arms hung down, and no one was sure to confirm whether Professor Lupin was still alive.

    "You lowly mules actually dared to drive us away!"

    Greyback''s fangs dripped with blood. As he approached, the werewolves quickly gathered behind him, staring at the brutally killedrades in the forest. Every word Greyback spoke carried a strong bloody scent,

    "Alright, alright, the losses are severe, aren''t they? But it doesn''t matter. Werewolves have strong vitality, and we will soon recover¡ª"

    "Remus" Sirius shouted in anger, calling out Lupin''s name. Greybackughed bloodily, holding onto the back of Lupin''s head like disying a trophy to everyone,

    "Don''t worry, folks. This despicable traitor isn''t dead yet. I still have a lot to talk to him about. But, tonight''smotion has indeed exceeded expectations. Hmm, if possible, I would like to invite all of you to leave with us. After all, we still need to negotiate with old man Dumbledore."

    Upon hearing that Lupin was still alive, Sirius calmed down slightly, but his eyes were filled with deep hatred as he stared at Greyback.

    Greyback''s words, almost taunting, made the centaurs furious. They wed their hooves restlessly, only onemand away from charging.

    "We retreat¡ª" Unexpectedly, Snape coldly said.

    "Do you think I''m a coward, Snivellus? I won''t abandon Remus!" Sirius immediately turned his head and red at Snape.

    Harry also didn''t want to retreat. He, like Sirius, would never give up on Professor Lupin. and there was still the matter of Peter Pettigrew to resolve.

    But Harry had seen the carnage; He knew that besides making the people protecting them helpless, he was useless. Sirius was the same. His face was as pale as paper, and he had at least eight bloody holes on his body, still bleeding. These were the wounds he received when he fought the werewolves in his Animagus form.

    "The motorcycle''sing!"

    Snape raised his wand high and shouted. Not far away, a motorcycle rose from the ground, broke a few vines, and stopped in front of them. Snape, who was already at his limit, swayed for a moment after casting the spell. He looked like he was about to fall, but in the end, he endured the dizziness and spoke to Harry and the others with an unquestionable tone,

    "Get on the bike!"

    No one had any objections about whether Harry and the other young wizards should leave. And so, all the kids rushed onto the bike.

    "You should go back too, Sirius!" Hagrid said to Sirius, "Only you know how to use this bike properly. I''ll stay behind to help the centaurs drive away the werewolves and save Remus."

    Sirius, who had just mocked Snape for being a coward, naturally didn''t want to leave. However, with just one sentence, Snapepletely shattered his stubbornness,

    "You fool, are you going to make another stupid decision like you did twelve years ago?"

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 0288 Return?

    0288 Return?

    The air was thick with tension, the atmosphere charged with a palpable sense of dread and regret. Sirius''s eyes, usually a piercing grey, were now clouded with a storm of emotions, twitching uncontrobly as the weight of his past decisions bore down on him. The choice to make Peter Pettigrew the secret-keeper for the Potters had been a catastrophic error, one that haunted him every night. And now, Severus Snape, with his sadistic wit and venomous words, was twisting the knife deeper into Sirius''s already festering wound.

    Amidst the chaos, a voice of calm emerged. "Good luck, Harry Potter," Firenze said to harry. With a nod from the centaur, his brethren silently acknowledged the gravity of the moment and dispersed, their hooves beating a soft rhythm on the forest floor as they formed a protective circle around the idling motorcycle.

    Sirius, his hands trembling slightly, reached out to caress the dashboard of the motorcycle, a relic from a time that seemed like a distant memory. His fingers grazed the buttons, each touch a hesitant question, each flicker of the dashboard lights a cryptic response. "I never thought I''d have a chance to ride this again," he murmured, his voice aplex tapestry of sorrow, nostalgia, and a faint glimmer of hope.

    "Oh, are you nning to leave like this?"

    The scene, however, was not lost on Fenrir Greyback, whose cruel smile was a stark contrast to the somber mood. His eyes, gleaming with malice, were fixed on the group, particrly on the young wizards from Hogwarts who were preparing to seek reinforcements. He wouldn''t let Sirius and the few young brats go to Hogwarts for reinforcements. Especially not with the infamous Harry Potter among them, who was the most important bargaining chip in negotiations with Dumbledore.

    With a swift and brutal motion, Greyback seized Remus Lupin by the neck, his grip irond, his wrist flicking with contempt as if he were disying a piece of worthless trash. "You are friends with this traitor, right?" he sneered at Sirius, his voice dripping with disdain. "If you dare to escape, I''ll snap his throat!"

    The threat ignited a fire in Sirius''s eyes, a ze of anger that threatened to consume him. "Let go of Remus, you despicable beast!" he roared, his body tensed, ready to leap off the motorcycle and confront the werewolf. But before he could act, a sudden ng resonated through the air, a harbinger of unexpected intervention.

    A cold light shed, leaving a silver trail etched into the retinas of all who witnessed it. In an instant, Greyback recoiled, clutching his arm and cursing vehemently as he staggered backward. Lupin, now in his werewolf form, copsed to the ground.

    "Take them away quickly!" Hagrid shouted, his voice booming he discarded his crossbow and charged headlong into the pack. The werewolves, their eyes alight with bloodlust, surged forward, but Greyback''s obsession with using Lupin as leverage was undeterred. He lunged for the semi-conscious werewolf, determined to reim his hostage. Yet, the centaurs were not idle spectators; their spears, swift and unerring, flew like arrows, crossing the distance in a heartbeat and pinning werewolves near Greyback to the earth, forcing him into a grudging retreat.

    Lupin, dazed and disoriented, struggled to his feet. His gaze flitted between the spear thaty discarded by his w and the retreating form of Greyback. A series of fearful whimpers escaped his lips before he vanished into the imprable darkness, his presence erased from sight as if swallowed by the night itself.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    The ensuing battle between werewolves and centaurs was of primal fury. The air was filled with the sounds of roars, the rending of flesh, and the death cries of the fallen. Snape, hisplexion ashen, once again conjured his signature spell, severing a leaping werewolf in mid-air. The creature''s blood rained down in a bloody shower.

    Snape stared at Sirius intently, and Sirius knew exactly what Snape wanted to express. He angrily red in the direction Lupin had disappeared, and shouted, "Hold on, Remus! I''ll bring help soon!"

    The roar of the motorcycle drowned out the noise of the battlefield.

    "Stop them!"

    Greyback''s furiousmand to stop them was drowned out by the mechanical beast''s growl.

    Amidst the increasingly loud rumbling, the exhaust pipe suddenly spewed blue and white mes. Hermione, sitting behind Sirius, let out a short, piercing scream.

    With a sudden surge, the motorcycle reared up, its front wheel lifting off the ground. Harry, his senses overwhelmed, barely registered their ascent as they soared thirty feet into the air, the motorcycle elerating towards Hogwarts with a fierce determination.

    <strong><em>Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh...</em></strong>

    Behind them, the werewolves gave chase, their forms a blur as they navigated the vine-entangled forest. Yet, their numbers dwindled with each passing moment, and soon, only a solitary werewolf persisted in pursuit. Seizing an opportunity, the creature leaped from a horizontally growing branch, its wstching onto the sidecar''s bracket with a desperate tenacity.

    <strong>"Canrady Leviosa!"</strong> The words burst from Harry''s lips in a terrified scream. Harry''s wand was a blur of motion, and the shattered side mirror of the motorcycle became an impromptu weapon, sweeping across the werewolf''s outstretched arm.

    <strong>ROAR!!!!</strong>

    A roar of agony filled the air as the werewolf was forcibly dislodged, its arm severed by the improvised spell. The creature plummeted to the ground, its howl fading into the distance, a stark reminder of the brutal reality they faced.

    Ron, his arms trembling with the effort to support Draco Malfoy, was suddenly drenched in a warm, scarlet spray. The blood, belonging to a werewolf whose arm had been severed moments before, sttered across his face and robes, its coppery scent filling the air. With a gasp, Ron''s eyes rolled back, and he slumped over, unconscious, mirroring Malfoy''s prone form in the sidecar.

    "Well done, Harry!" Sirius ck''s voice cut through the chaos, his toneced with pride as he nced over at his godson. Harry, however, could only manage a tight-lipped nod in response. His gaze was fixed on the werewolf''s dismembered limb thaty grotesquely in Ron''s grasp, and his hand, the one clutching his wand, shook with an uncontroble tremor. He heard Hermione sobbing softly between him and Sirius, but he had no words tofort her. He could only pat her thin shoulder in silence.

    The explosions and shes on the battlefield behind them were still vivid in the night. Harry''s cheek, smeared with his own blood, twitched involuntarily as he turned to stare at the carnage they had narrowly escaped.

    Whenst summer, Professor Watson had taken him to that evil underground cave, Harry realized that the wizarding world was not a fairy tale world. But tonight, he truly witnessed the cruelty of the battlefield- the werewolves''s tragic demise, the uncertainty of Professor Lupin''s fate-

    In a daze, Harry remembered what Professor Watson had taught them.

    Power is a very real thing and cannot be changed by personal will alone.

    Harry''s thoughts drifted to his first year at Hogwarts, to the secret underground chamber where he had faced Quirrell, who was possessed by Voldemort. Back then, armed with nothing but sheer determination, Harry had managed to thwart Voldemort''s scheme to obtain the Philosopher''s Stone. Quirrell, unable toy a finger on him, had been defeated by a power that Harry had not understood at the time.

    Professor Dumbledore hadter exined that it was his mother''s love that had left a mark upon him and being deeply loved by someone, even if that person had died, would leave us with an eternal protective charm.

    Harry thought that mark was his scar, but it wasn''t. Professor Dumbledore said it was invisible, hidden beneath the skin.

    "Maybe it''s only useful against Voldemort¡ª" Harry muttered to himself, his voice lost to the howling winds that whipped around them, unheard by hispanions.

    Harry was lost in thought and didn''t notice that the trajectory of the motorcycle''s flight was no longer as stable as before. It was going up and down like a stone skipping across water.

    "B- Mr. ck¡ª" Hermione''s voice was tinged with panic as her face wasshed by a flurry of leaves. Through the fragmented reflection of the shattered rearview mirror, she caught sight of Sirius''s face, paler than snow against the backdrop of the night sky. With a jolt of rm, she realized that Sirius''s robe was soaked in blood..

    "Oh, what''s wrong?" Sirius looked a bit dazed, as if waking up from a nap. His tone was somewhat surprised.

    "Um, you, I mean, you look a bit exhausted¡ª" Hermione stammered, her worry for Sirius evident.

    After twelve years in Azkaban, the first wizard Sirius encountered upon his release was Bryan Watson. He had forgotten what it felt like to be respected. Hermione''s respectful address made him feel somewhat awkward. After a brief silence, Sirius smiled, about to say something, but a rumbling noise from a few miles away interrupted him.

    "What is that!" The recent brutal war had left Harry''s nerves on edge, and he shouted loudly.

    The rumbling sound sounded familiar to Harry, but for a moment, he couldn''t remember where he had heard it before.

    "No matter what it is!" Sirius said with a hint of weakness in his voice, "We''d better avoid it now."

    He spun the handle, and the motorcycle roared off, the oing wind blocking Harry''s mouth. However, the rhythmic rumbling didn''t fade but approached at an unsettling speed.

    Now, Hogwarts Castle loomedrger in their sight, standing silent on the high ground. Harry and Hermione unconsciously rxed, a sense of safety welling up inside them.

    But before they could fully enjoy the joy of surviving the ordeal, Sirius''s head suddenly drooped, and the motorcycle lost control plunging uncontrobly toward the ground. At the same time, the blood moon in the sky vanished, and a visible chill filled the air.

    <strong>Crack! Boom! Snap!</strong>

    Before Harry and Hermione could react, the motorcycle, thirty feet above the ground, plummeted down and crashed heavily onto the ground, apanied by the grating sound of metal bending and the snapping of trees. Ron and Malfoy were thrown out and disappeared into a ravine on a small hillock.

    Hermione had been tightly holding onto Sirius''s robes, so when theynded, with Sirius acting as a cushion, her injuries were not severe.

    However, the force of the impact caused Hermione to roll on the ground several times. Finally, her head hit a bare stone protruding from the earth, and with a muffled groan, she fell silent.

    Harry was the least injured among them, thanks to his skills as an excellent Seeker. A dive from such simr angles were nothing to him, and he was adept at protecting himself in such idents.

    As the front of the motorcycle collided with the ground, Harry used the force to propel himself forward. In mid-air, he adjusted his posture, protecting his head with his arms and curling up into a ball. After rolling five or six times on the leaf-covered ground, he finally regained control of his body.

    Harry''s face was buried in the damp, cold, and foul-smelling leaves. His hair was covered in dirt and grass, and his robes were torn and scattered by branches on the ground. Waves of exhaustion surged through his mind, using darkness as a medium, repeatedly impacting his consciousness. If possible, Harry wished he could just pass out, but he couldn''t rest because of Hermione, Ron, and Sirius''s safety.

    "Mmm!"

    Harry gritted his teeth and knelt on the ground, supporting his body with his arms. The soreness and pain in his body blurred his consciousness for a few seconds. It wasn''t until warm, moist blood seeped out of his nostrils and his dry lips felt a tangy sweetness that Harry regained his rity.

    Looking around, Ron and Malfoy had disappeared, rolling who knows where. Harry found Malfoy''s dropped Nimbus 2001 on the hillside.

    The front of the motorcycle was embedded in the ground, while the heavy body was pressing on Sirius''s chest. In the dimming moonlight, Harry noticed that Sirius''s chest had caved in, indicating that his ribs were definitely broken, but he didn''t know how many.

    "Hermione--"

    Harry muttered weakly, attempting to stand up several times. However, his body and mind couldn''t support him toplete the action, so he had no choice but to crawl towards Hermione on all fours.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0289 The Patron Saint

    0289 The Patron Saint

    "Hermione--"

    Harry muttered weakly, attempting to stand up several times. However, his body and mind couldn''t support him toplete the action, so he had no choice but to crawl towards Hermione on all fours.

    Hermione''s forehead had turned purple, and blood was flowing from the wound where it hade into contact with the stone. Harry tried to wipe the blood off her face with his sleeve, but his sleeve was already soaked, only smearing Hermione''s face with fresh blood.

    In that moment, Harry suddenly felt an urge to give up. He stared at Hermione lying in his arms, her face as pale as paper, mechanically repeating the wiping motion.

    To be honest, Harry had faced many setbacks before, whether it was the years living with the Dursleys or the various pressures and expectations he faced after entering Hogwarts. These were things that ordinary wizards couldn''t imagine. And now, the experiences of the past hour or two, along with the current situation, made Harry feel deeply powerless.

    Suddenly, Harry whose vision was blurred felt that everything around him had quieted down. It was as if he had suddenly lost his hearing, and the world became silent.

    Every breath he exhaled left clear white traces in the air. The indescribable cold seemed to freeze both his blood and soul, while the despair brewing in his heart erupted like a volcano.

    Harry saw them, Dementors, at least dozens of them. They descended from the tall treetops like a dark cloud, hovering above Sirius''s head.

    "Don''t--"

    Harry trembled as he pointed his wand at the excited Dementors, his voice barely audible.

    "Don''t hurt him, he''s innocent." Harry pleaded in a voice filled with desperation.

    Not a single Dementor cared about Harry''s plea. They circled around Sirius''s head under the motorcycle for a while. After two minutes, they finally confirmed that the one being crushed under the motorcycle was none other than Sirius ck, who had escaped from under their noses.

    <strong>"Expecto Patronum."</strong>

    Harry struggled to say the incantation, but his wand tip showed no sign of change, not even the hazy silver mist that had appeared when he first practiced the Patronus Charm with Professor Lupin.

    <em>''Think of something happy¡ª''</em>

    Harry told himself, desperately trying to get his numb brain to work¡ªSirius is innocent, his parents didn''t trust the wrong person, their best friend is innocent--

    <strong>"Expecto Patronum--"</strong>

    This time, the wand finally showed a slight reaction. A few wisps of silver mist floated towards the Dementors, but in the face of this number of Dementors, such a weak Patronus was useless. It couldn''t even dispel the cold brought by these creatures.

    Although the Patronus Harry summoned was weak, it still annoyed the Dementors. Their attention briefly shifted from Sirius to Harry.

    <strong>"Expecto Patronum--"</strong>

    Despair enveloped Harry''s heart, but he couldn''t give up because no one else could protect Sirius except him.

    He recalled the Firebolt, and now it seemed that Hermione''s spection was most likely correct. It was a Christmas present from Sirius, and in the battle with the werewolves, Sirius had almost sacrificed himself to protect Harry. This warm feeling made Harry''s Patronus slightly stronger.

    In the hazy silver mist, an indistinct stag appeared. It stumbled and rushed towards the group of Dementors, trying to drive them away. However, several Dementors stepped forward to intercept it, and the stag quickly transformed back into silver mist while facing off against the Dementors.

    Harry left Hermione''s side, driven by instinct, and crawled towards Sirius. His magic couldn''t protect him, so he would use his body, just like how Sirius had protected him before. If these Dementors had any memory of their punishment by Professor Watson, they might show some restraint.

    However, Harry had underestimated the Dementors.

    A pair of powerful, cold, and sticky hands suddenly grabbed Harry''s neck, lifting his face up. He could feel the foul breath spraying onto his face. They wanted to get rid of the obstacle first. As Harry listened to his mother''s cries in his ear, he thought wearily.

    <strong>Buzz!</strong>

    In the ck mist that was about to engulf him, Harry suddenly saw a growing silver light. Then, he fell onto the cold, prickly ground again.

    Like the moon suddenly appearing among the treetops, shining silver light surged forward, inch by inch pushing the darkness away from Harry''s side. And as it receded, so did the despair and cold.

    Something had driven the Dementors away.

    Harry realized this, struggling to lift his head. He saw a swift animal darting through the air, driving the Dementors in all directions until they vanished into the night.

    The animal leaped andnded on the ground, passing by Harry''s side through the woods, finally stopping behind a strangely shaped crooked tree. It was bright, like a unicorn. Harry strained to stay conscious, trying to see who was meeting the creature. The figure looked familiar, but it couldn''t be-

    The figure and the animal disappeared, and Harry sat kneeling in the dark, motionless. He was at his limit but dared not faint, fearing the Dementors might return.

    Perhaps only a few minutes had passed, or maybe several hours had gone by. In any case, Harry remained in the same position like a statue, with only a trace of sanity left, focused on trying to understand why the person who had just summoned the animal had appeared.

    "Harry!"

    From the direction of Hogwarts, a voice filled with shock and anger called from beyond the woods. Hearing this, Harry''s lips twitched, his eyelids drooped, and he copsed to the ground.

    He was safe now; Dumbledore had returned.

    <strong>+++++++++++++*Scenebreak*+++++++++++++</strong>

    The air in the infirmary was thick with the heady, intoxicating aroma of potions, a scent that Harry hade to associate with bothfort and dread. The light that bathed Harry''s face was a gentle, dappled glow, reminiscent of sunlight filtering through leaves. It was a stark contrast to the sharp, clinical brightness that usually filled the room. He could sense the presence of someone close by, their hands deftly working to remove his garments, their touch clinical yet not unkind as they examined him.

    Harry''s mind, foggy and disoriented, struggled against the lethargy that weighed heavily upon his limbs. He yearned to rise, to assert some control over his unresponsive body, because in the foggy world around him, he faintly heard voices talking, and there seemed to be quite a few people.

    To have so many people "observing" his body made Harry feel a bit embarrassed.

    Despite his best efforts, Harry''s eyelids remained stubbornly closed, as if sealed by an unseen force, rendering him frustratingly immobile and vulnerable to the curious gazes that he sensed but could not see.

    <strong>Click!</strong>

    The click of the doortch echoed ominously through the infirmary, heralding the arrival of new footsteps¡ªhurried, heavy,den with urgency. A mixture of gasps and the scraping of beds against the stone floor punctuated the tense atmosphere.

    "Oh my goodness, Severus and Hagrid!" The voice of Professor McGonagall, usually soposed and authoritative, now trembled with barely contained emotion. Her words were muffled, as though her hand was sped over her mouth in shock, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over. "I can''t believe it, Albus, I''ve never seen any of them so injured!"

    <em>''Hagrid is back?''</em>

    Harry''s mind, sluggish and clouded, grappled with the voices, trying to anchor them to familiar faces. The mention of Hagrid sparked a flicker of recognition, and he waited with bated breath for theforting rumble of the half-giant''s voice. But the expected sound never came, leaving Harry adrift in a sea of worry and confusion.

    <em>''What happened to Hagrid?''</em> The question gnawed at Harry''s consciousness, a persistent whisper that grew louder with each passing second. An urgency took hold of him, a desperate need to open his eyes, to bear witness to the scene that had elicited such distress from his usually stoic professors.

    "It''s just as Miss Granger described!" Professor Flitwick''s voice, typically cheerful and light, now carried an edge of horror that cut through the fog in Harry''s mind. "The scene there could give someone nightmares for a whole year, Albus. Bodies were everywhere, werewolf bodies, and even two centaur bodies. I found Severus and Hagrid among the corpses, Fortunately, They are still alive. I did not dare to waste time¨C"

    Dumbledore''s eyes glowed with a blue light, He moved away from Harry''s bedside with a purposeful stride, his robes billowing behind him as he approached the stretchers bearing Severus and Hagrid.

    "I need you to help me assess their injuries, Poppy¡ª" Dumbledore''s voice, a blend ofmand and concern, broke off, leaving a silence that hung heavy in the air, thick with anticipation and dread.

    Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the infirmary, soon shattered the silence with her professional assessment. "Severus is just exhausted, Headmaster. He needs a good rest. As for Hagrid, well, you can see for yourself. He''s suffered quite a bit. He has at least seven or eight bites, maybe even a dozen. It was those dreadful creatures. Oh my, this could lead to¡ª"

    Professor McGonagall''s reaction was visceral, her body trembling as if wracked by the same pain that afflicted her colleagues. Her hand flew to her heart, clutching it as though to steady its frantic beating.

    "Don''t worry, Minerva¡ª" Dumbledore''s voice, sharp and clear, cut through the tension, his gaze piercing as it swept over Hagrid''s prone form.

    "You know, Hagrid''s bloodline is resistant to that virus. He won''t suffer as Remus did."

    "Can you be sure, Albus?"

    The uncertainty in Professor McGonagall''s voice was palpable as she clung to Dumbledore''s arm, her eyes searching his for reassurance.

    "I can be sure, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, his tone imbued with a solemnity that left no room for doubt.

    At this moment, Dumbledore clearly knew what everyone needed. His voice and emotions quickly stabilized in a short period of time, and he ordered everyone with an irresistible tone.

    "Severus and Hagrid both need professional care. Poppy, only you can do this. Pomona, I need you to help me look after Mr. Weasley. Luckily, his condition is not serious, just some shock and bruises. And Filch, I''m afraid Mr. Malfoy can only be entrusted to you. I''ve already sent a message to St. Mungo''s, and they will send someone to bring Draco back to the hospital as soon as possible. But before that, I was wondering if you could find a way to alleviate Mr. Malfoy''s current troubles¡ª"

    With Dumbledore''s orderly guidance, the once-panicked crowd found their purpose, their movements bing more deliberate as they carried out his orders. One by one, they departed the ward, leaving behind only Harry and Professor McGonagall.

    "What can I do, Albus?" Professor McGonagall''s inquiry was tinged with concern as she gazed upon Harry, her expression a portrait of anguish.

    "Although Miss Granger told us some surprising things, now is not the time to let our guard down, Minerva." Dumbledore said calmly.

    "Sirius is still unconscious, and several staff members are watching over him. I need you to keep an eye on him as well, Minerva. And if possible, I would like you to bring Miss Granger here."

    The chaotic noise from earlier disappeared like a dream, and Harry finally opened his eyes, eager to talk to Dumbledore. Perhaps it was his anxious mood, or perhaps it was the sudden warmth that surged from his forehead, but Harry finally opened his eyes. And the first thing he saw was Dumbledore retracting his wand.

    "I apologize, Harry, I had to use a method to wake you up early¨C" Dumbledore said apologetically, but Harry didn''t have the mood to pay attention to these things. He bounced off the bed like a spring.

    "Sirius is innocent, Professor! It''s Scabbers, Ron''s pet rat, he''s actually an Animagus, he''s Peter Pettigrew!" The words tumbled from Harry''s lips, each oneden with the weight of truth and desperation.

    "Professor Lupin, he''s badly injured, you need to save him!"

    Dumbledore''s response was a low murmur, a sound that seemed to carry the weight within it. "Yes, it can be expected that Remus is not in a good situation right now, but Harry, there are probably more urgent matters....... Ah, Miss Granger is here."

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0290 Dangerous task

    0290 Dangerous task

    "Professor Lupin, he''s badly injured, you need to save him!"

    Dumbledore''s response was a low murmur, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world within it. "Yes, it can be expected that Remus is not in a good situation right now, but Harry, there are probably more urgent matters. Ah, Miss Granger is here."

    The creak of the door hinge was a prelude to Hermione''s entrance, her figure framed by the doorway as she rushed in, a bandage adorning her forehead like a warrior''s badge of honor. Her eyes, upon seeing Harry''s conscious form, became full of relief and unshed tears.

    "Harry!" Her voice was a mix of joy and disbelief, a symphony of emotions that resonated through the room.

    She rushed over like a little deer and hugged Harry tightly.

    Dumbledore''s eyes shed with urgency, but he didn''t interrupt the heartwarming scene.

    "I can''t believe it, Harry!" Hermione''s voice was thick with emotion, her relief palpable. "Professor McGonagall told me that they saved Hagrid and Professor Snape, and no one died. We''re so lucky!"

    Harry nodded with a heavy heart.

    "Now is not the time for celebrations, Miss Granger¨C" Dumbledore''s voice cut through the moment, a gentle yet firm reminder of the gravity of their situation.

    "We are likely to face many troubles. As I just told you, Miss Granger, helping Sirius clear his name is not a simple matter." His tone was low, a reflection of the somber reality they faced.

    Harry, eager to contribute, found himself momentarily checked by Dumbledore''s stern visage, a silent counsel to heed the gravity of their actions.

    "¨CThe Dementors have already notified the Ministry of Magic. I believe Cornelius and his Aurors may appear at the school gates at any moment. If they see Sirius before we''re prepared, the situation may be extremely disadvantageous for us." Dumbledore''s words were a stark warning.

    "Sirius is currently still unconscious. ording to Madam Pomfrey''s assessment, he may need several hours to regain consciousness. This means he can''t speak a word in his defense, and his weakened state also makes some of the viable methods to reveal the truth unusable, unless we want to kill him. And right now, apart from two underage wizards, everyone who saw the truth tonight is in no condition to testify."

    "But you believe he''s innocent, don''t you, Professor?" Harry couldn''t help but interrupt and ask.

    "Yes, I believe." Dumbledore nodded quickly in the face of doubts.

    "To be honest, Harry, this truth is not beyond my expectations. But you must know that the Ministry of Magic may not want the public to know that they imprisoned an innocent man in Azkaban for twelve years, and right now, weck crucial evidence."

    "Professor Watson!" Hermione''s exmation was a spark in the gloom, "He knows everything. He helped Sirius enter Hogwarts."

    When Hermione mentioned Professor Watson, Harry noticed a sh of anger or helplessness in Dumbledore''s blue eyes.

    "Yes, Bryan knows everything." Dumbledore nodded with aplicated expression. "But he is currently missing as well. However, I''m sure Cornelius will arrive here before him. I''ll be blunt¡ªunless we can present Peter to the Ministry, Cornelius probably won''t ept the failure of the Ministry."

    "What do you need us to do, Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione quickly caught on, taking a deep breath and pushing aside thoughts of the battlefield strewn with limbs and body parts.

    "It''s like this¨C" Under the gaze of Hermione and Harry, Dumbledore took out a yellowed piece of parchment from his pocket.

    "When I found you, I also unexpectedly found this thing. It fell out of your pocket, Harry. I won''t waste time telling you how surprised I was when I realized its purpose. In fact, I also sensed a trace of special residual power from it."

    <em>''Special residual power?''</em>

    Harry and Hermione exchanged a nce of mutual bewilderment. The air was thick with tension, a palpable force that seemed to weigh heavily upon their young shoulders. Dumbledore''s presence, usually a source offort, now cast a shadow of uncertainty.

    Dumbledore, whose eyes had moments before flickered with an anxious spark, now adopted a posture of deep contemtion. His gaze drifted upwards, fixating on the intricate patterns that danced across the stone ceiling. The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the soft crackling of the firece, until atst, he spoke to himself in a questioning tone.

    "ording to Miss Granger''s statement, you have always had this Marauder''s Map, Harry. How do you think it ended up in Mr. Malfoy''s hands?"

    Harry''s mind reeled, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. They had been discussing the dire matter of Sirius''s impending arrest, and yet, here was Dumbledore, suddenly so concerned about the map''s whereabouts.

    "On Christmas¡­," Harry''s voice trailed off, the memory surfacing like a specter from the past.

    Hermione''s gaze was unyielding, locked onto Dumbledore''s piercing blue eyes trying to find something in them to confirm her suspicions.

    "Malfoy and Mr. Filch had barged into the Gryffindor Lounge. We got into some trouble then. If, at that time, Scabbers¡­ I mean, Peter had followed Malfoy¡­" Harry''s voice was a whisper, barely audible over the crackling mes.

    Hermione asked in a low voice, "Harry, after that, did you confirm that the Marauder''s Map was still with you?"

    "No," Harry immediately shook his head, defending himself. "I haven''t used it for a while¡­"

    "It seems we have finally figured out a problem," Dumbledore''s nod was one of sage approval, his eyes alighting upon Hermione with a spark of recognition. "But there is still another question. The Marauder''s Map in Remus''s possession merged with the one in Mr. Malfoy''s possession. However, since Sirius and his friends never made a second map, what is the map in Remus''s possession?"

    The question loomedrge, a phenomenon that seemed to defy all logic. Harry''s thoughts churned, but no answer presented itself.

    "Professor Dumbledore," Hermione''s breathing became shallow. She called out to Dumbledore softly.

    Dumbledore''s attention shifted, his eyes briefly darting to the door before returning to Hermione. His words were clipped, each one measured and concise. "Some questions can only be answered by ourselves, Miss Granger. This is a very dangerous task, but if sessful, oh, I believe you will definitely seed, tonight you may save more than just one life."

    Harry''s mouth opened slightly, a silent witness to the exchange. He looked from Dumbledore to Hermione, his mind racing to keep pace with the unfolding talk.

    "But, Professor¡­" Hermione nervously grabbed her cor, her voice trembling. But Dumbledore stood up directly, took out his wand, waved it, and a gust of wind seemed to appear out of nowhere in the closed room. In the gentle breeze, Harry and Hermione felt as if something had merged into their bodies.

    "Just a precaution," Dumbledore assured them, his eyes meeting their bewildered gazes. "It will prevent your names from appearing on this marvelous map."

    Confusion reigned supreme in Harry''s mind, his eyes darting between the map and Hermione, whose lips were pressed into a thin line.

    "If you can''t figure out what you need to do, Miss Granger, I suggest you walk along the original path. I wish you good luck." Dumbledore''s voice was a distant echo as he deposited the map on Harry''s bed and made his swift departure, the door closing with a soft click behind him.

    "Good luck?" Harry''s eyes widened in disbelief. "But weren''t we discussing how to save Sirius? What good is luck going to do us?"

    In the wake of Dumbledore''s exit, Hermione''s hands moved with purpose, delving into the fabric of her cor. After a brief search, she produced a long, slender gold chain, its luster a stark contrast to the room''s gloom.

    With equal parts haste and determination, Hermione pocketed the Marauder''s Map and seized Harry''s invisibility cloak from the bedside table, draping it over her arm. "Come on, Harry, we don''t have much time to waste."

    Harry walked over in a daze, observing the shiny hourss hanging from the gold chain, wondering what its purpose was.

    "Come on," Hermione urged, cing the chain around Harry''s neck. "Are you ready?"

    "What is this for?" Harry was confused. He felt they were being foolish. Professor Lupin''s life was in danger, Sirius was also in danger, Ron was still unconscious, and Hagrid was in aa. Yet Dumbledore gave some riddles and left without any exnation, and he and Hermione were ying with a souvenir.

    Hermione''s fingers danced upon the hourss, setting it into motion with a series of deliberate turns.

    Time, it seemed, was about to take a most unexpected turn.

    The once brightly illuminated infirmary suddenly vanished in an instant, leaving Harry with the sensation of hurtling through space on the Knight Bus, its sudden eleration yanking him backward. The world around him dissolved into a kaleidoscope of colors, a whirlwind of shapes and shadows that teased his vision. He strained to discern the figures lurking within the blur, but his head spun with a dizzying intensity, and his ears throbbed with an unrelenting pressure. He wanted to see clearly around him, but his dizzy head and throbbing eardrums prevented him from seeing anything.

    Beside him, Hermione seemed to navigate the weirdness with a seasoned grace, as if the disorienting journey was a familiar path to her. In stark contrast, Harry grappled with the sensation, his eardrums swollen, his consciousness steering on the brink of oblivion, yet the expected sound of his own voice was strangely muted.

    Abruptly, the turmoil ceased, and his feet found the solidity of the ground once more. rity returned, and they stood in the hospital wing again, now shrouded in darkness. A flicker of memory reminded Harry that the lights had been extinguished, and the once audiblemotion beyond the walls had faded into silence.

    Harry''s eyes darted around, seeking understanding in the gloom. His gazended on the clock, and his heart skipped a beat as he registered the time disyed by the hands¡ªstill some distance from ten o''clock.

    "Nine forty¨C" The words tumbled from his lips, a whisper in the dark.

    Hermione, her expression etched with concern, donned their invisibility cloaks. "Where are we at this time?" she murmured, her voice tinged with worry.

    "Maybe we''re still in themon room celebrating¨C" Harry''s mind grappled with the possibility, though he struggled to ept the reality of his own conjecture.

    "Oh, yes, that''s it!" Hermione''s soft exmation broke through the uncertainty. She seized Harry''s hand, urgency propelling them from the room.

    At this time, Madam Pomfrey had finished her rounds and wasfortably flipping through magazines in her small room, listening to the songs ying on the radio. She probably couldn''t imagine the trouble she would face in a few hours.

    "We¨Cwhat¨Cis going on!" Harry couldn''t help but ask as they climbed the stairs.

    "We went back in time¡­ Ah, using this Time-Turner¨C" Hermione''s exnation came in hurried fragments as they climbed up the stairs.

    When they reached the third floor, they found Percy climbing the stairs as well. He seemed to be in a good mood, humming a song by himself. It seemed that he had finished patrolling the castle and was heading back to the dormitory.

    Hermione stopped talking, and once Percy was out of their sight, she grabbed Harry''s hand and ran down the third-floor corridor.

    "I got it from Professor McGonagall on the first day back at schoolst term. I''ve been using it to attend all my sses this year. Professor McGonagall made me swear not to tell anyone. She wrote many letters to the Ministry to get one for me. She had to prove to them that I was a model student and would never use it for anything outside of academics. I turn it, and then I can relive a period of time, so I can attend several sses at the same time, see?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0291 The Original Path

    0291 The Original Path

    Had the night not beenden with astonishments, Harry would have marveled at the revtion of the Time-Turner.

    "Oh¡ª"

    Just then, Hermione came to an abrupt halt, stopping in her tracks, surprised at an office door left open along the corridor.

    "He actually forgot to close his office door¡ª"

    Hermione whispered, but then she realized she shouldn''t make any noise and covered her mouth.

    This was Professor Lupin''s office, but he was not there. Harry suddenly remembered that at this time, Professor Lupin should be on his way back after washing up, and from the map Hermione had opened, Harry confirmed this.

    "We''re in the Gryffindormon room, led here by Peter Pettigrew. Look, we''re going downstairs now, but his name isn''t on the map."

    "By the way, how did you find out that Professor Lupin is¡­ is a werewolf?" Among the surprising events of the night, Professor Lupin being werewolf was definitely in the top three. Earlier in the Forbidden Forest, Harry hadn''t had the chance to ask Hermione how she discovered this secret, but now, he couldn''t help but be curious.

    "Do you remember, Harry? Professor Lupin taught us how to deal with Boggarts in the first ss. When the Boggart faced Professor Lupin, it turned into a full moon. Later, he took sick leave for a few days every month, and I always wondered about it. Then, before Christmas, I previewed the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and saw the description of werewolves--"

    Hermione cautiously stuck her head into Professor Lupin''s office, but he wasn''t there.

    On the Marauder''s Map, Professor Lupin had appeared on the staircase on the other side of the fourth floor, and in the Gryffindor Tower location, Ron and Harry''s names were intersecting with Percy''s.

    "That''s strange--" Hermione said hesitantly.

    "What''s wrong??" Harry quickly asked, and Hermione pointed to the Gryffindormon room. Her voice filled with confusion, she said, "Look, Harry, we were lured out of themon room by Peter Pettigrew. You see, we''re going downstairs now, but his name isn''t on the map."

    Harry leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the map spread out in Hermione''s hands. And then, he noticed that there was more than just one strange thing happening.

    As the clock neared ten, they were chasing after Scabbers down the stairs. But on the map, only their names were disyed, and there was no sign of Scabbers in the castle. Instead, on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Harry saw Hagrid crouching in his hut, while Sirius and Crookshanks were in a small square on the map.

    And in the area behind the house, close to the Forbidden Forest, Draco Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew''s names appeared faintly.

    "We don''t have time to think about this, Harry."

    Hermione suddenly closed the map, grabbed Harry''s hand, and barged into Professor Lupin''s office. After leaving the map behind, she urgently pulled on his sleeve and squeezed through the door crack.

    "The map in Professor Lupin''s hand¡ª" Harry said, puzzled. "Was it the one we left for him?"

    "Isn''t it obvious, Harry?" Hermione snapped impatiently. "Dumbledore has made it clear enough."

    Harry wanted to ask more, but the hurried footsteps from the stairs and the appearance of Professor Lupin on the other side blocked his mouth.

    Even though they knew that no one could see them, Harry and Hermione''s hearts raced nervously, especially Hermione. Before obtaining the Time-Turner from Professor McGonagall, she had memorized hundreds of prohibitions rted to time magic and had read countless cases of wizards causing serious idents due to misuse of Time-Turners.

    Based on the sequence of events, they were safe here. But Hermione couldn''t suppress her nervousness.

    What happened next could only be described as magical, even for Harry, who was ustomed to the wonders of magic.

    He saw Ron and himself appear in his field of vision at the same time, just a few dozen feet away, as they hurriedly chased after Scabbers, who shed by in their line of sight. Then, Hermione grabbed their cors and pulled them behind the tapestry.

    Harry held his breath instinctively, because Professor Lupin had walked over slowly. Harry looked at him sadly, knowing what was about to happen, but even without Hermione''s reminder, he knew the serious consequences of intervening.

    <strong>Click¡ª</strong> Professor Lupin, with a tired face, closed the office door. Immediately, the trio behind the tapestry dashed downstairs without a second''s dy.

    Under the Invisibility Cloak, neither Harry nor Hermione moved, silently waiting for what would happen next.

    In just half a minute, the door in front of Harry and Hermione burst open, and Professor Lupin appeared, clutching the parchment. His expression waspletely different from when he had entered, no longer showing any signs of lethargy.

    Lupin rushed downstairs, clutching the parchment, and Harry knew what he was going to do.

    Once Professor Lupin had also rushed downstairs, Harry wanted to follow, but sudden footsteps at the far end of the corridor forced him to press against the window niche, suppressing his anxious heart as he waited for the person to pass.

    It was Professor Snape!

    His walking speed was faster than usual, causing his robes to billow like a cloak. As he passed by, Harry could even feel the coldness emanating from Snape.

    Even though Harry didn''t want to admit it, he had to acknowledge one thing. If it weren''t for Snape tonight, they wouldn''t have been able to escape from the clutches of the werewolf.

    "How did Snape find out?"

    When Snape''s hurried footsteps became faint, Harry, almost suffocating, took a few deep breaths and then couldn''t help but ask, "He didn''t have the Marauder''s Map, so I''ve been wondering how he found out."

    "Isn''t it obvious, Harry!"

    After experiencing so much, Hermione was even more anxious than usual. She said impatiently, "That direction leads to Professor Watson''s office. Snape saw us chasing after something through those magical lenses. Then he saw Lupin leaving the office and realized something was wrong, so he followed us. Well, let me think about what we should do now."

    Hermione furrowed her brow, deep in thought, while Harry was thinking about the person who saved them from the Dementor''s Kiss.

    <em>''Who could it be?''</em>

    Harry remained silent, hoping that his guess was correct, but his rationality told him it was impossible.

    "¡ªIf you don''t know what to do, just follow the original path."

    Hermione muttered absentmindedly. Suddenly, she had an idea and pulled Harry, running downstairs.

    They crossed the campus along a straight path, without taking any detours or wasting any time. So, when they reached the pumpkin patch near Hagrid''s hut, their counterparts from this time period hadn''t appeared yet.

    They had just hidden in the twisted pumpkin vines when Draco Malfoy suddenly appeared without any warning, with Scabbers perched on his head.

    "Scabbers¡ª"

    Harry eximed, wanting to get up and chase after the rat, but Hermione tackled him to the ground, holding him down firmly.

    "Don''t you understand, Harry? We''re breaking one of the most important rules of magic right now. If someone sees us, we''re doomed!"

    Hermione squeezed her voice through her clenched teeth.

    "Only Hagrid and Sirius¡ª" Harry reluctantly said.

    Hermione didn''t say anything more because at that moment, Sirius had noticed Draco and Scabbers, just as Hagrid had said. Sirius grew furious, his size instantly increasing. Under Hagrid''s watchful gaze as he walked out of the house upon hearing themotion, Sirius charged towards Malfoy without hesitation.

    Seeing this, Malfoy turned around and mounted his broomstick, disappearing into the depths of the Forbidden Forest without looking back.

    "Look¡ª" Hermione said, holding her breath. "We''re here."

    Indeed, at this time, they were attracted by the barking of Fang and ran towards them from the path leading to the gate.

    They had personally experienced what happened next, and there was nothing interesting about it. Harry said dejectedly, "Peter escaped and never showed up tonight. If we can''t find him, Sirius¡ª"

    "Not necessarily, Harry¡ª"

    The damp soil and dewdrops on the leaves made Hermione ufortable. She adjusted her crawling position and gazed at themotion happening between Hagrid and the others, slowly saying, "Do you remember the sudden appearance of the Killing curse in the Forbidden Forest?"

    The name of this curse seemed to hold a special power. When it was mentioned in the pumpkin patch, Harry felt an invisible chill touch his skin, causing him to shiver inexplicably.

    He hadn''t heard of this curse before, but when Hermione mentioned it, he immediately thought of the green light that had caused his scar to throb painfully that night.

    "Do you think it was Peter''s doing?"

    "Obviously¡ª"

    Hermione quickly said, "I think Peter''s original n was to lure Sirius into the Forbidden Forest. Think about it, if it was just him alone, he would definitely die at the hands of the werewolf. But he didn''t expect us to show upter. Professor Lupin and Snape were also dragged there by us. By a twist of fate, so many people now know the truth of what happened years ago. This must have surprised Peter, but as long as Sirius dies there, there will be no evidence."

    Surrendering to Voldemort, causing the death of his parents, lurking around the Weasley family and Ron for so long, and now plotting to kill Sirius, to be honest, Harry had never hated someone as much as he hated peter now, except for Voldemort.

    Even the cold night wind blowing on the hignds couldn''t extinguish the me burning in Harry''s heart at this moment.

    The struggle beneath the pumpkin patch finally had a result. Hagrid led them into the Forbidden Forest, where they were met with a thrilling battle.

    And just after they left, in theforting moonlight, a weakened Lupin appeared, panting heavily. He asked Fang for directions and rushed into the Forbidden Forest.

    Seeing that the time was almost right, Hermione prepared to get up and follow. They still had a long way to go to reach the location of the battle.

    But at that moment, Harry suddenly stopped being in a hurry. He looked around, as if searching for something.

    "What are you daydreaming about, Harry? We need to catch up!"

    "Wait a minute, Hermione. Someone wille."

    Harry knew they didn''t have time to waste now, but he didn''t move, his face filled with eagerness.

    "Harry!"

    Hermione got up herself, uncovering the Invisibility Cloak, and stomped her foot in annoyance.

    "It''s almost time, we have to wait a little¡ª"

    Harry also got up and looked around.

    "Maybe someone else wille."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0292 Untimely Topic

    0292 Untimely Topic

    In the waning hours of a frostbitten January evening, Harry Potter''s silhouette stood motionless at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. His eyes, usually a vivid green, were dulled by the weight of disappointment. He had lingered long enough, hope waning like the day''s light, for a sign of the person he yearned to see. But as the reality of solitude settled in, he released a heavy sigh that mingled with the cold air, and with a sense of urgency, he and Hermione rushed into the Forbidden Forest.

    When they entered the Forbidden Forest earlier in the evening, they were with Hagrid, excited riding on the magical motorcycle. But now, as Harry and Hermione ventured alone into the heart of the forest, the excitement had evaporated, reced by an oppressive gloom that seemed to feast on their emotions.

    Following the footprints left by Sirius and their own memories, it wasn''t too difficult to determine the direction. However, the darkness around them seemed toe alive, pressing against the glow of their wands, trying to devour everything. The howling wind in the forest also brought the cries of magical creatures. Despite experiencing enough terror tonight, the two of them were still terrified.

    In their haste and focus on the task at hand, Harry and Hermione had neglected a crucial detail.

    Their clothes were already tattered. After entering the hospital wing, they had changed into the robes provided by Madam Pomfrey. But Dumbledore hadn''t reminded them to change into more suitable clothes before travelling through Time.

    The cold was like a living being, a creeping mise that sought to leech the warmth from their bones. Initially, Hermione''s magic had been a shield against the frigid air, her spells weaving a temporary respite. But as they delved deeper, the relentless cold, coupled with their physical and magical fatigue, gnawed at their resolve, rendering Hermione''s enchantments increasingly feeble.

    Supporting one another, they navigated a shallow puddle, its icy waters a shock to their system. They emerged on the bank, stomping their feet in a futile attempt to banish the cold that had seeped into their very marrow.

    "I envy Ron a bit," Hermione confessed, her breath forming crystalline clouds as she rubbed her hands together for warmth. Her body swayed, a delicate dance with the biting wind. "Mrs. Pomfrey said he was too shocked, and that it''s best not to wake him up early."

    "Yeah, he''s always been lucky," Harry agreed, his voice a low murmur as he bent to clear the clinging water grass from his boots. Then he grabbed Hermione''s wrist and struggled to climb up the slope.

    Hermione''s gaze lingered on the firm grip Harry had on her wrist, a warmth blooming within her that had little to do with their predicament. A small glint sparked in her eyes as she opened a subject far from their current ordeal. "Harry, when I spoke with Ginny earlier, she was quite curious¡ªshe wanted to know if you fancied any girl."

    The question caught Harry off-guard, his footing faltering, nearly sending him tumbling down. Regaining his bnce, he turned to face Hermione, whose suppressedughter was evident despite her efforts. A flush of embarrassment warmed Harry''s cheeks, a stark contrast to the chill of the night.

    It wasn''t a secret that Ron''s sister, Ginny, was infatuated with Harry. After all, Ginny didn''t try to hide it.

    "What did you tell her, Hermione?" Harry cleared his throat and turned his head, pretending to ask casually.

    "You didn''t tell me about this, Harry--" Hermione tilted her head, observing Harry''s profile, and said with a mix of amusement and sincerity, "Actually, besides Ginny, many girls have asked about this. It''s not surprising, is it? Harry, you''re quite popr among girls.

    "Cough, cough!"

    For some reason, a girl''s figure suddenly appeared in Harry''s mind. She was excellent at Quidditch. Thinking of her, Harry suddenly felt that the cold night wind surrounding him was no longer so icy. In fact, his cheeks were even emitting heat.

    At this moment, Harry was extremely grateful for the dim Forbidden Forest. If it were daytime, he didn''t know how to exin his embarrassment to Hermione.

    A few chuckles andughs came from behind. Harry finally pulled Hermione up the small slope and took a big step forward, as if trying to distance himself from Hermione. Yet, after a few paces, curiosity got the better of him.

    "What about you, Hermione?" Harry turned his head curiously, changing the subject seemingly unintentionally. "What kind of wizard do you like?"

    So far, Harry only knew that Hermione had been infatuated with Gilderoy Lockhart, but unfortunately, that guy turned out to be a notorious fraud. Now, the person whose face was emitting heat was Hermione. She stared back at Harry''s curious gaze with a strong look, ending this abrupt and untimely topic.

    With the urgency of their mission pressing upon them, Harry and Hermione hastened through the Forbidden Forest, the shadows of the trees stretching out like long fingers in the moonlight. Harry''s mind was singrly focused on the capture of Peter Pettigrew, the man responsible for betraying his parents. The frivolity of their earlier conversation was cast aside, lost amidst the gravity of their task. Yet, behind him, Hermione''s gaze flickered with unspoken thoughts, a silent testament to theplexity of emotions swirling within her.

    The typical concerns of third-year Hogwarts students¡ªstanding out, excelling in Quidditch, and making a mark like Harry¡ªseemed trivial inparison to the life-and-death stakes they now faced. Among the girls, discussions of crushes and romantic interests weremonce. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, ever curious, often engaged in such talks, weaving dreams of love and affection in the quiet of the night. They had not spared Hermione from their inquiries, prodding into the nature of her rtionship with Harry, seeking to uncover a hidden romance.

    Hermione, for her part, found such conversations frivolous. She didn''t even bother to answer such questions.

    Why waste time on idle gossip when one could be studying, learning, and striving for excellence?

    Yet, Harry''s unexpected question had stirred something within her, a ripple of emotion that defied her usual practicality.

    Every witch at Hogwarts harbored dreams of finding an exceptional wizard partner, and Hermione Granger was no exception. But the fact was, there weren''t many outstanding wizards at Hogwarts at the moment, and there was only one in Gryffindor House, Ron''s brother, Percy Weasley.

    Of course, she didn''t narrow her definition of excellence to just being good at studying, but at least, Hermione hoped her partner would have a thirst for knowledge.

    A shadow of mncholy crossed Hermione''s features as she pondered this. With a deep breath, she pushed these thoughts aside, burying them deep within her heart. Now was not the time for such reflections; survival was paramount.

    As they delved deeper into the forest, Harry and Hermione minimized their conversation to conserve energy and avoid drawing the attention of its more dangerous inhabitants. Their progress was slow and arduous, and by the time they neared the battlefield, they were both physically and magically drained, still few hundred meters away from the battlefield, Ahead, the sounds of conflict reached their ears¡ªFenrir Greyback and his pack of werewolves had already engaged in a fierce battle with Hagrid and the others.

    "Harry, the Invisibility Cloak," Hermione whispered urgently, pulling Harry down and draping the silvery fabric over them.

    The two of them crouched and moved forward step by step, careful not to make any noise that might attract attention.

    The battlefield was a tableau of chaos and courage. Professor Lupin, wand in hand, fought valiantly to repel Greyback, his spells a beacon of resistance. Professor Snape, his robes floating, wielded his magic with lethal precision, his weird cutting curses slicing through the waves of werewolves. And Sirius, in his Animagus form, battled with a ferocity that matched his canine counterpart.

    Despite having lived through these events, the sight of the battle filled Harry and Hermione with a profound sense of helplessness.

    "We didn''t make a difference, did we?" Harry murmured, the destion evident in his voice as he peered from behind the cover of a dense maple tree.

    "We''re just young wizards, Harry. Even for adult wizards, there aren''t many who can fight against werewolves," Hermione replied, her eyshes trembling. She was also watching herself, who was scared and at a loss, standing next to Ron.

    "But Professor Watson single-handedly drove away a powerful dark wizard in the Forbidden Forest when he was in fifth year and even fought against Dumbledore." Harry said unwillingly, but he knew deep down that it was an iparable and unfair situation.

    But, It was aparison that weighed heavily on Harry, a reminder of the vast gulf between their abilities and those of the truly powerful.

    Yet, as Ron had envied Harry''s natural Quidditch talent and Neville had admired Hermione''s academic brilliance, Harry realized that each individual had their own unique strengths. Perhapsbat was simply Professor Watson''s forte.

    Hermione''s eyes narrowed as she scanned the forest, her focus settling on a distant point. "The green light¡ªit came from over there," she said, her voice barely above a breath. "We need to get closer, Harry. But we must be cautious; being discovered could be disastrous."

    With a nod of agreement, Harry and Hermione resumed their cautious advance, their bodies low to the ground. The rustle of their movement was lost amidst the roars of battle, unnoticed by anyone.

    They eventually stopped in a more open area, and at that moment, the werewolf with the missing ear pounced towards Harry. Sirius, disregarding everything, shook off the werewolf that was attacking him and rushed to Harry''s aid.

    "He really loves you, Harry," Hermione whispered.

    Harry silently watched Sirius rush back to help him, feeling a warm current flowing in his chest, warming his heart. Then he clenched his fist, looked away, and with a determined gaze, he stared in the direction where the green light wasing from, as pointed out by Hermione.

    ¡­.

    The events on the battlefield unfolded just as they had in memory. Sirius was surrounded by several werewolves who had immobilized his limbs, ready to tear him apart limb from limb. Hidden in the expanse, Harry and Hermione trembled with tension, holding their breath as they fixated on a densely wooded area. Amidst their heightened alertness, the roars and howls around Harry''s ears suddenly vanished, leaving the Forbidden Forest as silent as the depths of the ocean.

    They saw it! Harry and Hermione simultaneously spotted a wizard, roughly their height but much fatter than Neville, appearing behind a tree as if he suddenly grew out of the ground.

    Illuminated by a sudden sh of green light, Harry could see the man''s appearance clearly¡ªhis sparse, lusterless hair was a mess, with a bald patch on top of his head, and his ugly face, with its pointed nose and beady eyes, still bore distinct rat-like features.

    History remained unchanged.

    Peter''s killing curse was blocked by Snape, leaving him with a face full of astonishment, seemingly unable to ept his own failure.

    Harry excitedly rose to his feet, but Hermione quickly held down his head to prevent it from being exposed from under the invisibility cloak.

    "Wait, Harry, we can''t show ourselves here!" Hermione said urgently.

    Harry stared at the short figure in the woods, and for the first time since his birth to now, he felt so much hatred for someone that it dyed his green eyes with a tinge of red.

    <em>''Leave this scene,''</em>

    Peter''s reaction was quick. While everyone was still shocked by the unforgivable curse that had been used, he realized that he had no chance of finishing off Sirius tonight. He turned around, shrank his body, and transformed into a rat, disappearing into theyers of fallen leaves.

    As he did so, Harry and Hermione immediately stood up under the invisibility cloak, their gaze locked on the rustling leaves as they darted out like rabbits.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0293 Tracking

    0293 Tracking

    Bryan, floating mid-air, stretchedzily. After ncing into the distance and confirming that the centaurs had started their journey back, he chuckled softly and followed the two youngsters.

    At this moment, Harry regretted not bringing his firebolt. If he had it, he could have caught up with Peter in a blink of an eye. But Now, he had to rely on his legs to leap through theplex terrain of the forest, keeping pace with Hermione.

    About ten minutester, aside from the sound of breaking branches and rustling leaves, there was silence. The ancient trees that had grown for centuries became denser around them, and the stars and moon were no longer visible overhead. Harry was immensely grateful for his exceptional eyesight, which kept them from losing Peter.

    "Now... *pant*... what should we do?" Harry asked, gasping for breath, as he looked at Hermione beside him.

    "Uh... *pant*... I think we should be fine in this situation," Hermione replied, also tired from running while wearing the Invisibility Cloak.

    The moment she gave permission, Harry lifted the cloak from his head and let out an angry roar that disturbed many dark creatures in the quiet, gloomy Forbidden Forest.

    "Stop, you despicable traitor!!!"

    Peter was fleeing for his life, but in reality, he didn''t know where to go. He couldn''t return to the Weasley''s, and as he was officially dead, he might soon be a wanted criminal by the Ministry of Magic. There was no safe ce for him in the wizarding world.

    <em>''Everything had been going so smoothly; why had there been so many unexpected events?''</em>

    Peter was filled with despair.

    Sirius, Remus, and now Dumbledore, who would soon learn the truth, would not give up searching for him. In front of these people, his power was insignificant; he couldn''t protect himself.

    But who else could offer him protection? It was said that the Dark Lord was currently lying low in the forests of Albania. Perhaps Peter could seek refuge with him, but rumors had it that the Dark Lord had lost his great power and was now barely clinging to life. What use would it be to seek refuge with such a wizard?

    As he fled, Peter felt increasingly despondent about his bleak future. Just then, an angry roar from behind caused him to lose control of his limbs, and he tumbled forward, rolling several times on the ground before crashing into a tree root anding to a stop.

    When he managed to get up and saw Harry approaching with his wand raised high, Peter''s eyes widened in terror.

    <strong>Squeak!</strong>

    Peter jumped up, frightened. Instinctively trying to flee, but two spells that anticipated his path blew up his route, and his small body was thrown into the air by the expanding air, mming hard against a tree trunk.

    Dazed and confused, Peter struggled to clear his head, but before he could regain his senses, a gust of wind lifted him up. A pair of fiery green eyes red at him, as if they wanted to devour him alive.

    "We did it, Harry, it was easier than I thought!" Hermione eximed with surprise, looking at the rat that Harry held firmly in his palm.

    But Harry had no joy in his heart. He red at the desperately squirming rat in his palm and said through gritted teeth, "I want to talk to this traitor, Hermione, is there a way?"

    "Oh¡ª" Hermione eximed in distress and embarrassment,, "An Animagus transformation is advanced transfiguration magic. The reversal spells I learned in Professor McGonagall''s ss aren''t enough¡ª"

    <strong>Snap!</strong>

    Thinking of his parents who had died because of the betrayal, Sirius who had been seriously injured and was missing in the normal timeline, and Professor Lupin who was also seriously injured and missing, Harry couldn''t control his anger. He mmed the rat onto the ground, stepped on its tail, and growled, "Transform back into your original form, now, or I''ll kill you right here!"

    Peter, struggling to get up, froze and dared not move.

    "Don''t do this, Harry, he''s not worth it, and your parents wouldn''t want you to be a murderer¡ª" Hermione said, holding Harry''s arm, her eyes filled with tears.

    "Ha!" Harry let out an angryugh, "I''ll never know what my parents would have thought, will I!"

    Without giving Hermione a chance to interject, Harry stuffed his wand into Peter''s mouth and threatened again, "Transform back, you vile creature, or I swear I''ll kill you!"

    Then, Harry felt a force resisting his stomping. Peter rapidly grew limbs and a head, as if he had taken a growth potion, and in a blink of an eye, a dirty, ugly wizard stood before them.

    "Harry¡­ Harry," As soon as he returned to his original form, Peter burst into tears. He knelt in front of Harry and Hermione, his body convulsing, wailing loudly, "I¡­..I didn''t want to do it, Harry, but I was too scared, Harry. You don''t know how powerful the Dark Lord is. He killed so many people, and anyone who opposed him met terrible fates. I''ve been regretting it all these years."

    "Lies¡ª" Harry spat out through his clenched teeth, "You''ve never repented. Tonight, you still wanted to kill everyone."

    "I didn''t do that, Harry¡ª" Peter trembled as he nced fearfully at the wand pointed at his forehead. "I just wanted to run away, Harry. I wanted that Malfoy boy to get me out of the school. I swear I never thought of hurting anyone."

    "You liar," Harry said bitterly.

    Peter suddenly threw himself at Hermione''s feet, startling her to scream in fear, "Smart girl¡­.. you should be able to understand, right? I never thought of hurting you. I never even considered it. I''ve been with Ron all this time. If I wanted to do something like that, I would have done it long ago."

    Hermione shrank back in fear, looking at the furious Harry, "Don''t let him turn you into a murderer, Harry. Let''s take him back; he''ll be punished."

    "I''m willing to ept punishment!" Peter shouted excitedly, "I''m willing to go to Azkaban, I''m willing to atone for my sins!"

    <strong>*In the air*</strong>

    <em>''Too young, indeed.''</em>

    Watching Harry, whose wand was slowly falling from his hand as he struggled internally, Bryan sighed. Whether to kill or to spare, they had to ensure Peter was incapacitated first.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    The ground heaved, and a powerful st of air ttened all the trees and vines within thirty feet. The soft earth was peeled awayyer byyer, filling the air with the scent of scorching. The scene from the Muggle street twelve years ago was once again brought to life!

    Harry and Hermione were trapped in a deep pit, surrounded by thick smoke and a transparent magical barrier that left them bewildered.

    "How could this happen¡­ Who was it?" The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the smoke began to dissipate, revealing the absence of their adversary. Peter, the man they had sought to confront, had vanished into the air, leaving behind only the mystery of his escape.

    Harry, his expression a mask of confusion and loss, reached out tentatively to the magical barrier. At his touch, it melted away like morning mist kissed by the sun, and he whispered to the silent forest, "I bet it was Dumbledore¡ª"

    The devastation wrought upon the earth was a sight to behold, and it caught Hermione unaware. She stumbled, her breathsing inbored gasps as she clutched at her chest, the weight of their predicament pressing down upon her. "I guess he anticipated that we might be at a disadvantage if we really encountered Peter, so he must have done something to us when he removed our names from the Marauder''s Map."

    Harry squatted down, holding his head, his lonely figure appearing helpless in the heavy night. "I should have killed him right away, now it''s all over¡ª"

    Harry''s voice was muffled, but Hermione could hear a sob in it.

    Hermione had never witnessed Harry in such a state, stripped of his usual tenacity, his voiceced with a despair so profound it seemed to drain the hope from the very air around them.

    "Harry¡ª" She began, her voice soft andced with concern.

    The sudden disappearance of Peter had been a blow to them both, a stark reminder of their vulnerability despite the precautions taken by Dumbledore and if it weren''t for those precautions, they might not have even survived. It wasn''t just Harry who felt the sting of powerlessness; Hermione too was grappling with the unfamiliar sensation of being utterly outmaneuvered. In the past, no matter the challenge, they always managed to create unbelievable miracles.

    But no matter what, they still had to face reality.

    Now, more than half the time had passed, and if they didn''t make it back to Hogwarts Castle in the remaining time, something even more terrible would happen.

    As Hermione reached out to offer sce to her friend, the stillness of the forest was shattered by a cry of desperation. It was Peter''s voice, distant yet unmistakable, filled with terror and pain¡ªthe very man who had slipped through their grasp moments ago.

    "What''s going on!" Harry''s voice was a mix of incredulity and renewed determination as he leaped to his feet, the emerald fire in his eyes rekindled by the prospect of that traitor within his reach. "It''s that traitor, who caught him?"

    "Anyway!" Hermione''s voice was also filled with surprise; she held her breath, listening intently for any noise, "He must have run into some trouble."

    Harry and Hermione exchanged a nce, and the next second, they both leaped up and dashed towards the source of the sound.

    <strong>Click-ck-click-ck¡ª</strong> Amid the rustling of leaves and Peter''s increasingly faint wails, a strange noise made Harry and Hermione shiver.

    "I guess it''s some kind of dark creature living in the Forbidden Forest," Harry mused, a grim satisfaction in his tone. "I just hope that when it eats him, it leaves something behind for us that can prove Peter''s identity, then the Ministry of Magic will have nothing to say."

    "Don''t say that, Harry¡ª" Hermione''s admonishment was cut short as a potruding branchshed out, tearing at her arm and drawing blood that seeped into her already battle-worn garments. Grimacing in pain, she pressed on, her voice a mixture of reproach and concern."Neither Professor Dumbledore nor Professor Watson would want to hear you talk like that¡ª"

    Hermione''s words struck a soft spot in Harry''s heart. He fell silent, not speaking further, just trudging ahead with his head down.

    Before they knew it, the surroundings became even more silent and oppressive. Not even the constant chirping of insects and birds could be heard among the branches and leaves.

    As Harry and Hermione ventured deeper into the Forbidden Forest, the terrain grew increasingly treacherous, the earth softening into a spongy morass that threatened to swallow their footsteps whole. They ascended a gentle slope, and as they crossed an invisible threshold, the dense canopy abruptly gave way to a sparse grove, the trees retreating as if in fear of the thorny underbrush that barred their path.

    In a daze, Hermione seemed to see shadows moving behind those tall bushes. Fear made her grip Harry''s arm tightly, and she lowered her voice and said, "Shouldn''t we use the Invisibility Cloak, Harry?"

    <strong>Click-ck-click-ck¡ª</strong> The rhythmic click-ck-click-ck of unseen creatures echoed ominously, resonating with the beat of their own racing hearts. Harry also noticed the movement behind the bushes. He hesitated for a moment, but then, from behind the hillside, Peter''s cries for help suddenly intensified, as if he had seen something terrifying.

    "Let''s go check it out!"

    Harry pulled Hermione''s arm and rushed up the hill without hesitation, and the dark shadows behind the bushes quickly retreated as they passed. Hermione caught a glimpse but couldn''t make out what the moving shadows were. If she had seen them clearly, she would have stopped Harry''s impulsive action.

    Finally, they reached the top of the long hillside. Now, before themy a vast crater-like depression.

    <em>''Ron is really lucky!''</em>

    Upon seeing what was in the pit, a nonsensical thought popped into Harry''s head.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0294 Denizens of the Crater

    0294 Denizens of the Crater

    Finally, they reached the top of the long hillside. Now, before themy a vast crater-like depression.

    <em>''Ron is really lucky!''</em>

    Upon seeing what was in the pit, a nonsensical thought popped into Harry''s head.

    Spiders¡ªnot the small ones the size of fingernails found in cupboards, but massive ones as big as carriage horses, with eight legs, eight green eyes, and bodies covered in ck, bristly hair.

    In the crater, there were at least hundreds of such spiders, constantly moving their eight legs, making a click-ck noise. The ground was littered with animal carcasses and white cocoons, some of which were still violently shaking, indicating that the creatures inside had not yet died.

    <strong>Gulp¡ª</strong> Harry swallowed hard, and within a few breaths, his forehead was beaded with sweat, and he felt Hermione''s hand in his palm suddenly be damp.

    <strong>Click-ck-click-ck!</strong>

    The two young wizards instinctively took a step back, and at that moment, the giant spiders in the pit seemed to receive some signal and viciously snapped their pincers together. Harry no longer hoped to find even a finger of Peter; now, his priority was how to keep Hermione and himself alive.

    But as they turned to flee, their bodies stiffened, and goosebumps covered their skin.

    Five or six giant spiders had somehow sneaked up behind them, blocking their retreat.

    Dozens of greenpound eyes looked down on Harry and Hermione from above. The giant spiders waved their pincers in the air, making a high-frequency click-ck sound. Hermione suddenly realized that this noise seemed to be a specialnguage ¡ªanguage of darkness spoken only by the forest''s most fearsome denizens.

    "Do you think Dumbledore''s magic might work again, Harry?"

    Harry''s face was ashen. He drew his wand and held it in front of him, but he couldn''t figure out how to use the stick in his hand against these behemoths.

    "Oh, little wizards from the castle?"

    Suddenly, from the bottom of the pit, behind a veil of web-like mist, came a tired, old voice, apanied by a heavy, metallic click-ck sound.

    "Besides them, no other wizards have followed, right?"

    The old voice asked warily, and the giant spiders in front of Harry and Hermione moved their pincers, answering the question.

    "Bring them here!"

    The voice from the pit said suddenly, filled with anger.

    Harry was about to resist, but in a moment of distraction, his and Hermione''s view spun, and they were pinched up by a spider''s tworge pincers. The spider moved very fast, blocking their mouths, preventing them from even screaming.

    The path ahead cleared, the lurking spiders parting to allow passage to their captives. In mere seconds, Harry and Hermione were presented before the arachnid overlord, a behemoth perched upon a throne of webs, its girth rivaling that of an elephant. The spider''s body and eight legs were dark gray, and it seemed to be blind, as each of its eyes was covered with a white film.

    "Look there, Harry¡ª"

    As Harry stared dumbfounded at the spider, Hermione pointed out in despair.

    It was Peter! He was hanging upside down not far to the left of the hemispherical web, with a slightly smaller spider crawling around him, rapidly weaving a web.

    Peter''s mouth was gagged with a web, unable to make a sound, and his lower body was trapped in a white cocoon that was about to form. His arms seemed to be bleeding, and the bright red blood had stained arge area of the white cocoon.

    Seeing Harry and Hermione so close, Peter''s small green eyes were filled with pleading and fear, and his eyes kept falling to the ground with a ttering sound.

    <em>''You brought this upon yourself!''</em> Harry expressed his inner satisfaction with his eyes.

    In the shadowy depths of the Forbidden Forest, a scene of quiet horror unfolded. The eight-eyed spider, a master of its craft, worked with a precision that belied its monstrous size. Its pincers, delicate as a weaver''s tools yet formidable in their strength, danced in the dim light, spinning a cocoon of white threads. These threads, finer than the finest silk yet stronger than steel, cascaded downwards in a relentless tide, enveloping Peter in a shroud of white. The cocoon spread with a speed that was mesmerizing, yet terrifying, as it crept over his mouth, sealing his fate with each passing second.

    Harry, his heart pounding in his chest, could only watch in frozen horror as Peter''s struggles grew weaker, his eyes¡ªa mirror to his soul¡ªshing with the rawest of fears before they were obscured by the spider''s handiwork. The satisfaction that had once warmed Harry''s heart now dissipated, leaving in its wake a sorrow so profound it threatened to consume him.

    The giant spider, Aragog, remained a silent sentinel throughout this macabre disy. Its many eyes gleamed with a cold intelligence, and one might imagine it took a perverse pleasure in the fear it wrought upon the young wizards who had dared to trespass into its domain.

    "This ce has always been off-limits to humans,"

    <strong>Click-ck, click-ck¡ª</strong> Aragog''s voice was a whisper of death, each word punctuated by the sinister click-ck of its pincers. The sound echoed through the forest, a chilling reminder of the spider''s power and the fate that awaited those who trespassed.

    Hermione''s sobs were soft, yet they carried a weight of despair that filled the air. "We''re terribly sorry," she wept, her voice barely a whisper against the cacophony of the forest''s nocturnal chorus. "We didn''t mean to offend you, Mr. Spider. We¡­we are here to track down Scabbers. He is a criminal, and we need to take him back to the castle."

    Aragog''s response was as cold as the moonlight that filtered through the trees. "We don''t care about wizards'' affairs," it hissed, its mouthparts quivering with disdain. "We''ve always lived here, not disturbing those in the castle, nor wishing to be disturbed. But you always break the truce, disrupting our peaceful life. I''m sorry, young human wizards, but you can only die here."

    The plea that escaped Harry''s lips was born of desperation. "Wait!" he cried, but it was toote. The giant spider''smand had been given, and Harry felt the crushing embrace of its pincers around his waist. A wave of nausea swept over him, choking him into a fit of coughing. "Cough, don''t, please don''t do this, Mr. Spider. If we have offended you, I am willing to stay here, but please let go¡ª"

    "I am not called Mr. Spider!" The forest was restless tonight, and now several humans had trespassed into its territory. Aragog, irritated, waved hisrge pincers, creating a gust of evil wind, "I have a name¡ªAragog¡ªand you would do well to remember it!"

    The revtion struck Harry and Hermione like a bolt of lightning.

    <em>''Aragog?!''</em> Harry and Hermione simultaneously stopped struggling, their eyes meeting in mid-air, both seeing the astonishment in each other''s eyes.

    They had heard this name before, from Hagrid''s mouth.

    <em>''Could it be that this spider had a connection with Hagrid?''</em> they wondered in unison.

    "Hold on, Mr. Aragog!" Hermione''s voice was a choked whisper, her eyes brimming with tears. "You know Hagrid, don''t you, Mr. Aragog? We are his friends, he sent us to catch Peter!"

    Harry and Hermione thought that by iming to be Hagrid''s friends, the terrifying giant spider would calm down a bit, but unexpectedly, it had the opposite effect and their hopes were dashed as swiftly as they had risen. Aragog''s reaction was not one of recognition or calm, but of fury.

    "Hagrid''s friends? liars!" Aragog''s eight milky eyes spun wildly in their sockets, and hisrge pincers cast shadows in the air. He was no longer the sleepy, weary figure but was now moving furiously within the dome-shaped web, his steel-needle-like body hair standing on end with rage.

    Hermione''s face was a mask of terror, her whispered question barely audible. "Did I say something wrong?"

    "Perhaps this spider has a grudge against Hagrid!" Harry clenched his teeth, the pain making it difficult for him to breathe.

    "Hagrid never brings people here!" Aragog''s roar was a strange and hoarse sound, devoid of humor and filled with a venomous anger. It''s strange for a spider to roar in a hoarse voice, but Harry and Hermione couldn''t find it funny because In its wrath, the spider raised its massive torso, supported by several legs, eclipsing the moonlight with its shadow¡ªa dark omen that seemed to swallow the very light of the moon.

    "There is one exception!" Aragog''s voice thundered with indignation. "Last year, Hagrid brought a friend here, asking about some matters. I didn''t tell anything, and that wizard nearly killed me!"

    <strong>Cough, cough¡ª</strong> Seeing the two small figures below in a daze, Bryan, floating above, scratched the back of his head, looking somewhat embarrassed.

    <strong><em>Hmm.</em></strong> After a moment of contemtion, Bryan raised his head, his piercing gaze searching the dark forest for something useful. Then, his gaze paused, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

    "We''re so unlucky, Harry," Hermionemented, her voice tinged with sadness.

    "We can only rely on ourselves, Hermione!"

    Harry gasped for breath, turning to look at the eight-eyed spider waiting for Aragog to finish his tantrum, and shouted, "Petrificus Totalus!"

    <strong>Creak, creak!</strong>

    A fresh breeze hit them, and the spider''s limbs made a chilling rustling noise. Then, Harry and Hermione felt the strong force around their waists dissipate.

    "I didn''t expect¡ª" Harry''s words trailed off, his mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

    The pair seized their newfound freedom, tumbling to the forest floor with a mixture of relief and disbelief. Harry''s mind raced, recalling his previous attempt at the spell on a werewolf, which had failed miserably. Yet here, against all odds, it had worked.

    Harry voiced his thoughts to Hermione, "I thought it wouldn''t work, I failed when I tried it on the werewolf before!"

    "I remember now!" Hermione clutched her chest and spoke rapidly, "These creatures are Acromants. Professor Watson used themst year for a practical lesson with Fred and George''s ss. The professor told them that Acromants have low resistance to magic, even a first-year wizard''s spell can defeat them if it hits!"

    "That makes things much easier!" Harry eximed excitedly.

    The mention of "Professor Watson" seemed to strike a chord with Aragog, whose formidable body tensed, his grotesque head bowing as if weighed down by the name. "Could it be Bryan Watson?" the spider murmured, its voice a soft, dangerous whisper that belied the chaos of its thoughts.

    <em>''Uh. Could it be that Professor Watson was the one who nearly killed Aragogst year..... He wouldn''t want to capture Aragog for ss, would he?''</em>

    Harry and Hermione exchanged a nce, a silentmunication passing between them. The same question hung in the air, unspoken yet understood.

    "You are that wizard''s students¡ª" Aragog''s voice rose again, sharp and filled with venomous hatred. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he crawled along the intricate webbing of his domain. "I''m sorry, human children, I can''t let you two die so easily¡ª"

    "Do it, Hermione!" Harry''s patience had worn thin. Since there was no point in talking to this old spider, Seizing the moment while it rambled, Harry shouted decisively.

    In the face of danger, Hermione''s reliability shone like a beacon. Her wand became an extension of her will, casting spells with a fluid grace that belied the urgency of the situation. The silk that held Peter aloft was severed with surgical precision, and the giant eight-eyed spider next to Peter hasn''t had time to react before the Petrification spell(<em>Petrificus-Totalus</em>) froze it in ce!

    "You dare!" Aragog''s roar was a piercing shriek that echoed through the forest, a call to arms for his offspring. But before he could muster his forces, a chill ran down his spine, halting hismand.

    A sharp branch, quivering with potential, rested against Aragog''s head¡ªa silent threat that spoke louder than words.

    Hermione rushed over, dragging the white cocoon that enveloped Peter, but the task was too strenuous for a young witch, and Peter, unable to see themotion outside, struggled violently.

    "Come and help me, Harry!"

    Sweat soaked through the gauze wrapped around her forehead wound, and Hermione stamped her feet in frustration.

    Sometimes Hermione was frighteningly clever, but asionally, she could be as slow and clueless as Neville.

    "Why don''t you use magic, Hermione?"

    Harry didn''t dare to take his eyes off Aragog, but hearing themotion, he knew Hermione was confused.

    "Oh!"

    With a start, Hermione smacked her forehead in annoyance realizing her oversight. A quick spellter, the cocoon floated effortlessly to Harry''s side, guided by her deft magical touch.

    "But how do we leave this ce, Harry?" Hermione''s question was tinged with fear.

    But their predicament was far from over. Behind them, a legion of eight-eyed spiders, inhabitants of the vast meteorite crater, had encircled the young wizards. Their collective clicking was a menacing chorus that filled the night, a reminder of the peril that surrounded them.

    "Order them to back off!" Harry demanded, his voice steady despite the danger. He knew that Aragog, the leader of this arachnid tribe, held sway over his kin. With a subtle movement of his wand, Harry applied pressure, the sharp point rotating against Aragog''s head with a silent promise of violence.

    "Impossible¡ª" Aragog''s response was bitter, his words a deration of defiance. "You won''t be able to leave this ce tonight; you will be the nourishment for hatching my descendants."

    Harry''s frown deepened at the spider''s stubbornness. He had not expected such resistance, even in the face of death.

    "Don''t kill it, Harry!" Hermione''s urgent plea broke through his thoughts. "Have you forgotten? This spider knows Hagrid, it''s Hagrid''s friend."

    "Yes, I haven''t forgotten!"

    Harry''s temples throbbed, feeling the situation was tricky. He had only intended to scare Aragog, never actually nning to kill it, but Hagrid''s formidable friend was determined to keep him and Hermione there, putting them in a difficult predicament!

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0295 Escape from death

    0295 Escape from death

    If it weren''t for the scene earlier tonight when Harry and Hermione were surrounded by the werewolf pack, they would probably be terrified and at a loss for what to do in front of the hundreds of eight-eyed spiders. The arachnids, restless and seething with anger, mbered over one another in a frenzy, their chitinous legs clicking against the forest floor, creating a cacophony reminiscent of a thundercloud on the verge of eruption.

    In the midst of this chaos, Peter Pettigrew, seemed to finally grasp the gravity of their situation. He ceased his futile attempts at escape, resigning himself to a shivering ball within the confines of his silken prison.

    Aragog, the leader of the spider horde, loomed over them, his voice a bitter hiss that cut through the tension. "This is a lesson for the people in the castle," he dered, his many eyes reflecting a lifetime of grievances against those who dwelt within the stone walls of Hogwarts.

    Harry, however, was not swayed by Aragog''s words.

    "Shut up!" He said sternly, with his gaze fixed on the giant spider, a wooden spike levitating beside him. Yet, despite hismanding exterior, Harry''s eyes betrayed an internal struggle. The prospect of ending the life of an intelligent magical creature weighed heavily on him, and his resolve wavered.

    "This won''t solve the problem, Harry," Hermione trembled, but she still didn''t want Harry to kill the spider. "They won''t let us leave, even if you kill it."

    Harry''s response was a mix of desperation and determination. "I know, Hermione!" he eximed, his face a mask of grim resolve as the encroaching swarm of spiders closed in around them. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself for what was toe. "But this is our only bargaining chip, Hermione. Do we have any other way to break out from here?"

    The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Harry grappled with the moral values before him.

    It was, after all, just a spider. In the dungeons of Snape''s ss, he had ended the lives of countless frogs, lizards, and other creatures in the name of potion-making. Yet, this felt different. This required Harry to not only convince Hermione of the necessity of their actions but also to reconcile with his own conscience.

    It was at this moment of indecision that salvation pierced the darkness. Two beams of light, likences of hope, cut through the webbed canopy above, bathing Harry and Hermione in their ethereal glow. Apanying the light was a sound that stirred memories within Harry¡ªa sound he had heard earlier that night, before their chilling encounter with the Dementors. It was the roar of an engine, primal and defiant, a sound that now heralded their potential rescue.

    The spiders, sensing the intrusion, were thrown into disarray. The once orderly ranks descended into pandemonium as the creatures toppled from their perches, their bodies hitting the ground with sickening thuds. Before they could recover, a formidable force barreled through their ranks, crushing spider after spider beneath its relentless advance quickly approaching Harry and Hermione.

    "What is that, Harry!" Hermione cried out, her voice a mixture of fear and panic as she saw the vomit inducing scene before them.

    "Mr. Weasley''s car," Harry replied, his toneced with disbelief. His eyes were fixed on the battered Ford Anglia as it charged through the horde of eight-eyed spiders like a valiant Knight, its drooping headlights cutting a swathe through the darkness. A surge of joy welled up within him, and Harry couldn''t help but leap to his feet, his voice ringing out with excitement. "It''s Mr. Weasley''s car, remember, Hermione? At the beginning of our second year, when Dobby blocked the wall at King''s Cross Station, Ron and I used this car to get back to Hogwarts!"

    The memory of that daring flight was etched in the annals of Hogwarts history, a tale of mischief and adventure that had cemented Harry and Ron''s reputations among their peers. It was an adventure that had not been without consequences, as Mr. Weasley had faced a formal inquiry at the Ministry of Magic for the unauthorized enchantment of a Muggle vehicle.

    "But why is it here?" Hermione pondered aloud, her gaze sweeping the forest in search of a wizard who might have summoned this unexpected chariot.

    "Since then, this car must have been living in the Forbidden Forest," Harry mused, a hint of awe in his voice. "Oh my, I never expected it to still be able to move. Maybe it has been lurking nearby and heard themotion here!"

    As they spoke, the enchanted Ford Anglia, a relic of a bygone adventure, burst through the final barriers of web and foliage,ing to a triumphant halt before them. The car bore the scars of its past encounters, with dented doors and a roof warped by the Whomping Willow''s wrath. Its windshield was a spiderweb of cracks, and the tires were slick with the green ichor of the spiders it had crushed in its path.

    The car''s headlights flickered rapidly, a mechanical mimicry of a friendly wink, as if to acknowledge their shared history.

    With a creak of aged metal, the dented door swung open, and the car''s horn sounded an urgent call to action.

    "Don''t just stand there, Hermione, get that traitor in the car!" Harry urged, his wand still trained on Aragog as he gestured frantically towards the open vehicle.

    Hermione, her lips moving in silent incantation, levitated the white cocoon into the car''s trunk with a smooth flick of her wand. Peter Pettigrew, bound and helpless, was secured within. Without hesitation, Hermione sat into the back seat, her movements swift and decisive.

    "Get in, Harry!"

    The forest was alive with the sound of impending doom as the spiders, sensing the presence of the enchanted Ford Anglia, surged forward with a collective hunger. Their many eyes gleamed with a malevolent intelligence, and their legs moved in a terrifying unison, propelling them towards the car.

    Harry, who was just into the rtive safety of the car for a few seconds, was jolted from his momentary relief by a series of thunderous impacts atop the vehicle. The roof groaned under the weight of two massive spiders, their pincers gnashing at the metal with a ferocity that threatened to breach the sanctuary within.

    "Go, to Hogwarts!" Harry''s voice was a desperatemand, directed at the trembling steering wheel before him. "I know you can understand!"

    His plea was met with the car''s engine roaring to life. With a sudden lurch, the car spun, dislodging the spiders in a whirl of motion, and then it surged forward, finding a narrow path through the swarm of eight-legged assants.

    Within the confines of the car, Hermione''s head struck the roof with each jarring movement, while Harry, thrown beneath the seat, was oblivious to the ethereal wisp of silvery-gray light that slipped through a crack in the window. The spectral light, silent and purposeful, found its way to Hermione''s cor, disappearing into the fabric with a subtlety that hid its significance.

    "Hmm"

    Meanwhile, Bryan, stretched his limbszily, his gaze lingering on the taillights of the car as it navigated the treacherous terrain. He smiled as he gazed toward the dense forest where it met the rolling hills,

    "I should get back to work too," he murmured, his voice a soft echo in the stillness of the night.

    The car, now free from the immediate threat of the spiders, continued its journey, bouncing over the uneven ground as it plunged deeper into the forest. Hermione, her eyes fixed on the dashboard, anxiously urged the car to hasten its escape. "<em>Phew</em> - can you please speed up?"

    "Look over there, Hermione, the Dementors areing," Harry leaned forward, his eyes constantly scanning the sky. Suddenly, he found what he was looking for - a cluster of dark clouds floating in the air. Within the boundaries of the dark clouds, many shadows were flying up and down, moving towards another direction in the Forbidden Forest.

    "Dementors? When did they appear?" Hermione''s voice was a whisper of dread, herplexion turning ashen at the thought of their pursuers.

    "When we were about to leave the Forbidden Forest, Sirius''s motorcycle fell from the sky. You all passed out, but I was still awake. Please-" Harry shouted at the car''s steering wheel, "Drive in that direction?"

    Hermione''s hand shot out, gripping Harry''s wrist with a force that conveyed her panic. "You can''t do this, Harry!" she gasped, her breathing in short bursts. "Don''t you remember, Harry? We can''t be seen by anyone, not even the Dementors. Otherwise, we''ll be in big trouble!"

    "You don''t understand, Hermione¡ª" Harry became particrly stubborn. "You don''t know what happened then. Professor Dumbledore hadn''t arrived yet, but the Dementors had already found Sirius. They wanted to kill him on the spot. I wanted to use the Patronus Charm to drive them away, but I failed. Then, someone released a powerful Patronus and drove away all the Dementors!"

    Hermione''s eyes widened in shock, her mind racing toprehend the implications. "A powerful Patronus, you mean... Professor Watson?"

    "No, it wasn''t him," Harry replied, his frown deepening as he grappled with the memory. "Well, I saw that person. But maybe it was just my imagination, Hermione. My mind wasn''t clear at the time, and I quickly lost consciousness."

    "Who do you think it was?" Hermione''s voice was a mix of curiosity and concern.

    "I think¡ª" Harry hesitated, the words catching in his throat. Despite the absurdity of his belief, he pressed on, "I think it was my dad."

    The revtion left Hermione speechless, her mouth agape as she struggled to offerfort. "Harry, your dad¡ª"

    She paused, her eyes darting towards the trunk where the culprit of their painy bound. Lowering her voice, she continued, "He''s passed away, hasn''t he? The person who was responsible for his death is in the trunk; we caught him. We''ve avenged your parents."

    "Oh, I know." Harry stared at the trunk with a gloomy expression, but then he furrowed his eyebrows and continued, "I know it''s hard to exin, Hermione, but I want to go... No, I must go and see!"

    Hermione couldn''t resist Harry''s determination, and she was also curious about the person Harry mentioned. They parked the car in a discreet location, then both of them put on their invisibility cloaks and got out of the car, running towards their destination, hiding behind a tree.

    The Dementors appeared.

    Hermione''s fear nearly overcame her, a scream threatening to escape her lips, but she managed to stifle the sound, covering her mouth just in time to remain undetected in the shadow of the night.

    The Dementors hovered over Sirius, who was pinned under the motorcycle. At this moment, Harry of that time was trying to drive them away, but after several attempts, he unfortunately failed. Moreover, his actions angered the Dementors, and they were preparing to kill him first.

    Harry anxiously searched for something. His gaze flew past tree after tree because the ce where the Patronus finally stayed was behind a crooked-neck tree.

    "Hurry!" Harry looked around and whispered out in a low voice, "Where are you, Dad? Hurry!"

    No one responded to his call. In the middle of the field, one Dementor had already grabbed original time''s Harry''s throat and was about to remove its hood.

    Hermione, unable to contain her fear, turned her head away, unable to watch any longer. Harry bit his lip, about to say something tofort Hermione, when he turned and finally noticed the tree in front of them.

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 0296 Fleeing Werewolves

    0296 Fleeing Werewolves

    <strong>Swoosh!</strong>

    With a whoosh, an arrow shimmering with cold light and murderous aura pierced through a tree as thick as a grown man''s waist and embedded itself into the midst of a fleeing pack of wolves. Amidst the metallic ring, a werewolf was nailed to a rock, letting out a piercing howl. However, the sound was short-lived; Ronan arrived swiftly, his spear piercing the werewolf''s throat, ending its wicked life.

    This scene unfolded before Greyback, causing the nefarious werewolf leader to seethe with hatred and let out a long, angry howl.

    Previously, under thebined efforts of the centaurs, Hagrid, and Snape, the remaining hundred or so werewolves suffered heavy casualties. Seeing the tide turn against him, Greyback led the fifty or sixty surviving werewolves in a breakout towards the mountains.

    ncing at his kin following him, Greyback cursed Peter, who wrote to them, in his heart with vile words. That scoundrel had caused them to lose the Dark Lord''s protection twelve years ago, and today, nearly led all the werewolves to their deaths in the Forbidden Forest.

    Tonight, his pack had suffered heavy losses, and their only gain was capturing a few centaurs.

    These ''mules,'' valuable in the underworld, could somewhatpensate for the fifty thousand Galleons from the Ministry of Magic that had slipped through their fingers¡ªIf they could be sold sessfully.

    Of course, this money was not easy toe by. The centaurs behind them had gone mad in their efforts to rescue their captured kin. Along the way of their escape, more than a dozen of their own had died at their hands.

    "Give up, Greyback, you can''t escape."

    For Greyback, another prize of the night was Remus Lupin.

    The traitor''s luck had been poor; after escaping, he had fainted in the woods, only to be picked up by him.

    "Shut up, traitor!"

    Greyback bared his ugly wolfish grin at Lupin under his arm and sneered, "If I''m doomed today, I will make sure you die in front of us. Of course, I don''t think you need to be so pessimistic. I heard you''re working for Dumbledore now, maybe he''s willing to spend some money to redeem you from my hands!"

    Remus''s head hung limply, his body covered in wounds, blood dripping from his cheeks.

    Faced with Greyback''s wild fantasies, Remus''s eyelids trembled slightly, and he muttered in a barely audible voice, "You''re insane, Greyback."

    As the werewolves crossed a mound one by one, the world ahead became clear, and the faint light at the end of their sight, symbolizing hope, filled the werewolves, including Greyback, with great joy.

    The centaurs didn''t have the ability to apparate, so as long as they left the Forbidden Forest, the werewolves had plenty of means to escape their pursuit.

    Without needing Greyback''s urging, the werewolves let out excited howls, each one charging with all their might towards the hope of life. Meanwhile, the centaurs, realizing the werewolves were about to escape, fell into extreme frenzy. Arrows and wooden spears rained down like droplets, most of them aimed at Greyback''s back!

    <strong>ng!</strong> Greyback swiped away several spears with his ws and looked at the furious Firenze and others, revealing a provocative smile.

    Ever since the werewolves had settled in the Forbidden Forest, these centaurs had tried to drive them out, but in the end, they had never achieved this goal. Although the werewolves had suffered heavy losses tonight, their means of replenishing their numbers were beyond the centaurs''s capabilities.

    "Ha, we shall meet again, mules!"

    Greybackughed heartily, and the next second, he was the first to burst out of the gloomy primeval forest and into the moonlit wilderness.

    The werewolves''s breakout point from the Forbidden Forest was not far from Hogsmeade. To the west, extending to the horizon, were the fields cultivated by the vigers of Hogsmeade; to the easty rolling hills, and in front of them, atop a hill, stood an ancient manor allowing Greyback to figure out where he was.

    "Those with wands, Apparate away; the rest, revert to human form and infiltrate Hogsmeade. These centaurs won''t dare to enter wizard''s territory!"

    Greyback pulled out his wand and called out loudly. At his reminder, the werewolves reverted to human form, those capable of Apparition prepared to teleport away, while the rest rushed towards Hogsmeade, ready to take advantage of the chaos.

    At the foot of the howling mountain, a series of crisp explosions sounded. Under the angry curses of the centaurs, Greyback and others, one after another, vanished into thin air, while the pursuing centaurs could only watch helplessly as the werewolves abducted their kin.

    "Stop, you vile creatures!"

    Bane let out a powerless roar, his arrow piercing a werewolf who was sprinting towards Hogsmeade. The unconscious werewolf was flung through the air by the powerful force of the arrow, tumbling in mid-air.

    <strong>Bang!</strong> But then, something strange happened.

    It was as if an invisible barrier had appeared in the air; the werewolf''s body, still in mid-flight, mmed into the barrier and fell to the ground in a free-fall trajectory.

    And that was just the beginning. The werewolves rushing towards Hogsmeade couldn''t stop in time and one after another collided with the transparent barrier. They were all bewildered, howling and pounding on the wall, not understanding what had happened.

    "What''s going on?"

    Seeing this, the centaurs stopped at the border between the Forbidden Forest and the mountains. The anger on Bane''s rugged face faded, reced by astonishment.

    "This is wizard magic¡ª" Ronan pawed the ground with his front hoof, looking around uneasily, "But it''s unclear who exactly is responsible."

    <strong>Snap, snap, snap!</strong>

    As the centaurs puzzled over who had stopped the fleeing werewolves, those who had just Apparated away reappeared in the air and fell to the rocky ground.

    Greyback''s face still bore the remnants of joy, thinking he had escaped danger. But when he saw the scene around him and the centaurs staring oddly at him from a distance, his expression froze. In his pale-yellow vertical pupils, panic and unease churned.

    "What''s happening?"

    Greyback demanded loudly from his subordinates, who had also been rejected by the void.

    "I don''t know¡ª" A limping werewolf nced at the wand in his hand and said nkly, "I was headed for Anglesey Ind, but somehow I ended up back here?"

    The unease forced the werewolves to regroup, their discussions filled with confusion and panic, resembling a pack of dogs that had lost their homes.

    These failed escapees had also brought back a few abducted centaurs. Bane, with a look of righteous indignation, was about to rush forward to rescue his kin, but Firenze stopped him.

    "Wait, Bane, don''t be impulsive!" Firenze stood in front of Bane and said gravely, "It seems a powerful wizard is ready to judge these vile dark creatures!"

    "But who could it be?" Ronan asked breathlessly, "Who could do all this?"

    "As far as I know, only one human wizard could manage it." Firenze said cautiously.

    "Look, there''s someone there!"

    Finally, a werewolf nced at the sky unintentionally and screamed in terror, pointing at the void under the blood moon.

    At his rm, all the werewolves and centaurs looked up. Even the dazed Lupin slowly raised his head, and when he recognized the lone figure in the void under the moon, Lupinughed softly, but hisughter was tinged with a touch of mncholy,

    "Heh, Greyback, the end of the werewolves hase."

    ...

    The snow descended in a relentless torrent, a white cascade tumbling down the rugged mountainside, its icy fingers intertwining with the warm, tempestuous currents of the vast Antic. This convergence birthed a ferocious gale, one that tore through the untamed wilderness skirting the quaint vige of Hogsmeade with a voracious appetite. The very air itself seemed to quiver, imbued with a foreboding, almost spectral aura, as if the world held its breath in anticipation of some unspeakable event.

    In the sky, beneath the blood-red moon that resembled a giant millstone, a figure stood suspended in mid-air, his gaze piercing as he surveyed thend below. The werewolves below were restless, like ants bracing for a violent storm.

    "Who is that?" <em>*murmur*</em>

    The werewolves whispered among themselves, and Greyback questioned Remus Lupin, soon receiving his answer.

    "Bryan Watson?!"

    Some secrets, though closely guarded as top secret in the outside world, were not so in the Forbidden Forest adjacent to Hogwarts, especially when Hogwarts had a gamekeeper who was particrly fond of sharing gossips.

    Only a year prior, Bryan Watson had solved the mystery of the Basilisk that lurked within the Chamber of Secrets, a feat that had earned him no small measure of poprity. Now, having navigated theplex bureaucracy of the Ministry of Magic and the scrutiny of the Board of Governors, he had ascended to a position of considerable influence. Appointed by none other than Albus Dumbledore, Watson had taken up the mantle of Director of the Student Safety Office¡ªa position of great importance.

    <em>''But why was he here? Could it be that he was acting on Dumbledore''s orders?''</em>

    These questions raced through Greyback''s mind, a torrent of thoughts that mirrored the swirling snow around him. An inexplicable sense of doom settled in his gut, a primal warning that prompted him to position Remus''s body as a living shield before him.

    "Leader, what should we do?" The query came from the werewolf who had first spotted Bryan, his voice tinged with an anxiety that betrayed his usual ferocity.

    Greyback''s instincts, honed over countless moons, screamed a silent warning. This young wizard, whom they had never before encountered, exuded a presence that demanded caution. If possible, he preferred to avoid conflict. But he was no fool; Watson''s sudden appearance and his unimaginable means of preventing their escape were certainly not for the purpose of throwing a farewell party for the werewolves!

    "We haven''t harmed a single young wizard in the castle tonight!"

    Greyback''s raspy voice echoed across the wilderness as he shouted at Bryan,

    "We have no conflict with Hogwarts!"

    In response, the world seemed to grow colder, the wind''s icy caress nowced with something far more chilling: the unmistakable scent of malice. The werewolves, creatures attuned to the subtleties of danger, recognized the raw, unmasked hostility that now permeated the air. Terror etched itself upon their faces as they raised their wands skyward, their hands trembling so violently that not one could muster the will to cast a spell.

    "Sir!" Greyback''s voice was a growl, his words a challengeced with fear. "We have no conflict, right? Why are you stopping us from leaving?"

    "Greyback¡ª" The reply that sliced through the howling gale was melodious, tinged with aziness that belied its underlying power. It was a voice that seemed to carrying a power that intimidated the soul.

    "Aren''t you always looking for me?"

    Confusion clouded Greyback''s features at these words.

    <em>''Why would we need to look for the Director of the Student Safety Office of Hogwarts? What possible connection could there be between us? The object of our true pursuit had always been¡­''</em>

    "Escape."

    The realization struck Greyback like a physical blow, his pupils dting in terror, a sheen of cold sweat coating his forehead. He murmured themand absentmindedly, however the noise of the wind was so loud, rendering them inaudible to his anxious subordinates who pressed close, seeking guidance.

    "Run!"

    Greyback''smand, now a shriek of pure terror, cut through the cacophony of the storm, a solitary note of dread in the deste expanse.

    "Flee back to the Forbidden Forest!"

    With a heart-wrenching roar, Greyback no longer cared about the howls of his subordinates. He simply hoisted the only card he had left¡ªRemus Lupin¡ªonto his shoulder and leaped into the air, nning to retreat back into theplex terrain of the Forbidden Forest!

    But at that moment, the very fabric of the night seemed to shudder. The blood moon, once a beacon in the darkness, dimmed as if snuffed out by an unseen hand. And there, two purple moons rose slowly against the dark curtain of the night.

    <strong>Buzz!</strong> At that moment, A divine presence descended.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0297 The Golden Flames

    0297 The Golden mes

    The atmosphere was thick with a pressure so profound, it could be likened to the crushing depths of the Mariana Trench. Greyback, suspended in the air, found himself immobilized, his body rigid as if he were an ancient insect on the cusp of being forever enshrined in amber''s golden tomb.

    "No progress at all¡ª" The voice that resonated through the charged air wasced with a palpable disappointment, a tone that seemed to reverberate with the very pulse of the earth. And then, as if in response, the world itself trembled, a subtle yet unmistakable shudder that coursed through thend.

    On the ground, the pebbles, once still and silent, began an eerie dance, rising from the earth as if summoned by some arcane force. Greyback, with the burden of Remus Lupin upon his shoulders, the pack of werewolves, and even a few centaurs bound by invisible restraints, all found themselves subject to this otherworldly pull, their bodies flying towards the sky in defiance of Newton''sw.

    The night, cold and unforgiving, watched as the mist of the Forbidden Forest, a ghostly specter that had strayed beyond its borders, was torn apart. Amidst this chaos, the air became alive with the dance of fine blue lightning bolts, their ethereal glow turning the levitating stones to nothing but dust.

    "Do you have anyst words, Greyback?" Bryan looked down at the despairing Greyback and asked softly.

    "The Dark Lord won''t spare you, Watson!" Greyback''s desperate and tragic scream rose again, "I''ll wait for you in hell!!!"

    And then, as if the heavens themselves had decreed it, the ughter began. Golden mes descended from the sky, a deluge of divine wrath that sought to purify the world of its sins. Amidst the waves, thunder roared silently, and beasts born from me let out their silent cries of destruction, their fiery breath engulfing the werewolves in an instant.

    The world was reduced to a singr sound¡ª the dying howls of the werewolves.

    One werewolf, his form entangled with a serpent of fire, made a desperate bid for freedom, bursting through the wall of mes in a frantic attempt to reach the sanctuary of the Forbidden Forest. But his escape was short-lived; a colossal golden hand, an extension of the inferno''s wrath, emerged from the fiery sea of fire, seizing his head with an unyielding grip and mercilessly dragged him back into the heart of the destruction.

    The sea of fire consumed the werewolves, their demise a spectacle beneath the golden night sky, where the Grim Reaper seemed to dance in jubtion.

    At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the centaurs, who harbored deep hatred towards the werewolves, could no longer bear witness to the carnage. With heads bowed in a rare disy of humility, they turned away, their hearts heavy with an emotion they could not name.

    "Are you being sentimental?" The wind, yful and irreverent, tousled Bryan''s soft grey hair as he asked the question with a gentle smile,

    "From now on, you probably won''t find manypatriots within the borders of Magical-Britain, Remus."

    "No¡ª" Remus''s reply was a breath, a sigh that carried the weight of resignation. His eyes, filled with aplex tapestry of emotions, took in the sight of the werewolves'' final dance amidst the mes, the silver metallic sheen of their half-melted forms, and Greyback, was defiant even in the face of death, his curses venomous.

    The once-slumbering vige of Hogsmeade stirred to life, its tranquility shattered as lights flickered on in a symphony of awakening. The residents, sensing the disturbance, surged up the hill in a wave of concern and curiosity. However, the officials from the Ministry of Magic, informed by the Dementors and apparating into the vige, arrived even faster.

    Cornelius Fudge, Amelia Bones, Dolores Umbridge, Rufus Scrimgeour, and most of Aurors descended the hillside with haste, their movements a blur as they raced towards the unfolding scene.

    From a distance, Scrimgeour, the stalwart head of the Auror Office, unleashed a spell towards the inferno. The magic swelled, fueled by the gale, transforming into a torrent of water that cascaded over the mes. Yet, for all its might, it did little more than birth clouds of white steam that rose and dissipated into the night.

    "That''s Fiendfyre, Minister!" Scrimgeour stared intently at the figure gradually descending to the edge of the fire, his voice solemn.

    "Oh my, it''s¡­ it''s Fiendfyre." Fudge''s exmation was one of realization, his potly form moving with a speed that belied his stature as he led the Aurors towards the scene.

    "You¡­ Bryan Watson. You can''t.... Who exactly are you harming?" Fudge''s voice was tinged with disbelief.

    The turbulent sea of fire kept all the neers from the Ministry at a distance of three hundred feet. Fudge shouted across the distance in despair,

    "You can''t do this, Bryan, it''s against thew!"

    The members of the Ministry of Magic seemed to see a roaring volcano, with A sea of fire raging before them, its mes dancing violently. The air was filled with the sound of faintly tearing roars, a cacophony that seemed to resonate with the very depths of their souls, instilling a paralyzing hesitation in their hearts. Amidst this chaos, only one figure stood resolute, an exception to the prevailing fear: Rufus Scrimgeour.

    The others could do nothing but stand frozen, petrified witnesses to the unfolding spectacle of what they perceived as malevolent magic. Yet, as the Head of the Auror Office, Scrimgeour was bound by duty and honor; he could not simply spectate evil unfold before his eyes..

    "Put away your wicked magic, young man!"

    With a determined stride, Scrimgeour advanced, facing the overwhelming pressure head-on. He raised his wand, a symbol of his unwavering resolve, and directed hismand at Bryan with a shout that echoed through the wilderness.

    But just as he prepared to act, Bryan turned his head, his gaze cold and piercing. In that fleeting moment, the formidable pressure emanating from him halted Scrimgeour''s breath. It was as if, in a trance, he saw a colossal dragon, its fierce head lowered, gazing down upon him, rendering his own existence as insignificant as dust.

    "Wait¡ª" Tonks interjected, staring at Bryan in disbelief.

    She looked at Bryan, her mind struggling to reconcile the image of her low-key, modest, and humble old ssmate with the reality before her. He dared to conjure the Fiendfyre, a dark magic spell of devastating power, in the presence of the Minister of Magic and other high-ranking officials.

    Kingsley, standing beside her with his wealth of experience, sensed the gravity of the situation. He grasped his superior''s arm, his voice solemn and urgent.

    "Take a closer look¡ª" Kingsley said, his astonishment evident. "Those beings ensnared by the Fiendfyre, if my eyes do not deceive me, they are werewolves!"

    <em>''Werewolves?''</em> The word rippled through the crowd, a wave of shock and realization.

    Every gaze turned toward the raging inferno, where amidst the mes, a figure emerged, its form half-consumed, resembling a spectral apparition more than flesh and blood.

    "That''s right, it''s him!" Amelia Bones eximed, her thin frame belying the sharpness of her eyes. "I can''t be mistaken, it''s Fenrir Greyback, the notorious leader of werewolves!"

    She stared intently at the figure within the sea of fire, recognizing the visage of Fenrir Greyback, the infamous leader of the werewolves. His notoriety was well-known throughout the British wizarding world, and the core members of the Ministry of Magic could not mistake the werewolf leader who had brought them immense pressure and shame.

    "But what is happening here?" Fudge, drenched in sweat and the picture of helplessness, stammered. "Bryan, he¡­ Shouldn''t he be at Hogwarts? And werewolves? But the Fiendfyre¡­"

    "You''re correct, Minister¡ª" Umbridge, Fudge''s capable assistant and Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, squeaked in a high-pitched tone, as if a little girl had suddenly discovered a mouse on her bed.

    "I don''t believe any of us recall granting Bryan Watson permission to wield the Fiendfyre spell. Oh, unless, of course, he received authorization from another source!"

    "Dumbledore has no authority to permit the use of such dreadful magic!"

    Fudge''s mind was particrly sharp at this moment, and he immediately understood Umbridge''s implication, and said angrily.

    Ms. Bones cast a sidelong nce at Umbridge, her lips pursed in disapproval, yet she remained silent. Her expression mirrored that of Professor McGonagall when catching young wizards in the midst of mischief.

    As time passed, the screams within the Fiendfyre dwindled, fading into silence. The earth, scorched and deste, bore no trace of the werewolves that had perished; only their ckened outlines remained etched upon the crystallized ground.

    <strong>Hooo¡ª</strong>

    With a sigh, Bryan waved his wand. In the blink of an eye, the Fiendfyre, which had threatened to consume the heavens themselves, vanished as if it were nothing but a fleeting dream. Wisps of smoke curled upward from the sunken pit, reaching for the darkened sky above.

    The Ministry employees, wands drawn and aimed at Bryan, watched in stunned silence. Yet he paid them no heed, his demeanor calm andposed as he approached the centaurs who were rushing toward him.

    "We came for the tribe members abducted by Greyback, Mr. Watson¡ª" the centaurs began, their fierce temperaments subdued.

    After witnessing the events that had transpired, they found themselvespelled to lower their proud heads to the wizards they so often disdained. Firenze, too, bowed humbly, his voice soft and respectful.

    "Hmm¡ª" Bryan acknowledged with a slight nod.

    At his gesture, the centaurs whoy beside Remus began to levitate, drifting toward their kin.

    "Tonight, you have made great efforts to save the young wizards and staff of Hogwarts. For your assistance, we owe you our gratitude."

    Bane''s brow furrowed deeply, a testament to the turmoil churning within his mind. He contemted voicing his doubts, his gaze fixed intently on Bryan, the wizard whose actions had defied the centaurs'' understanding of magic and its wielders. Yet before he could voice his thoughts, Ronan, with a dismissive snort, silenced him. The elder centaur''s skepticism was palpable, a silent warning against questioning the enigmatic wizard''s motives.

    Firenze, who was quick-witted, pieced together the night''s events with remarkable intelligence. His mind raced with the realization that a wizard¡ª had used Transfiguration to abduct one of theirpatriots without harming the centaurs.

    "We are the ones who should be grateful, Mr. Watson," Firenze intoned with a newfound reverence. "Without your intervention, our tribe members would have faced a grim fate indeed."

    His words hung in the air, a solemn acknowledgment of the debt owed to Bryan. Firenze realized that this formidable human wizard was not the same as Dumbledore, and he cautiously added, "The centaurs will not forget your benevolence. Should an opportunity arise, we aspire to reciprocate this kindness."

    Indeed, quite reasonable.

    "It''s just a small thing." Bryan smiled slightly, "Don''t worry about it."

    Firenze cast a wary nce at the Ministry officials, their wands and gazes pointedly directed at Bryan. "We prefer solitude, away from wizards and the Ministry''s machinations, Mr. Watson," he stated in a hushed tone, a subtle hint of the centaurs''s perennial distrust. "Thus, we shall take our leave. You, however, are wee to traverse the Forbidden Forest at your leisure."

    With Bryan''s permission, Firenze, alongside Ronan and Bane, retreated into the shadowy embrace of the Forbidden Forest. Their figures melded with the darkness, disappearing as swiftly as they had appeared.

    Meanwhile, upon the hill, the vigers of Hogsmeade had amassed, their numbers nearlyplete. The crowd buzzed with activity, shes of light asionally appeared as they sought to capture the night''s extraordinary events.

    Amidst the chaos, Fudge felt the weight of expectation bearing down upon him. The Ministry of Magic, under the scrutiny of so many eyes, waspelled to take some action.

    "Bryan, what is the meaning of all this?" Fudge demanded, his voice tinged with a mix of confusion and urgency.

    "Excuse me," Bryan interjected, his attention drawn to the prone figure of Remus, whoy unconscious upon the scorched earth. His request was polite yet firm, "Would someone kindly escort this unfortunate man to St. Mungo''s? His injuries are severe, and he might notst until we finish discussing the incident."

    "Who is this person? A viger from Hogsmeade?" Ms. Bones inquired, her sses catching the moonlight as she peered intently at Bryan, seeking answers.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0298 Whispers of time

    0298 Whispers of time

    "Who is this person? A viger from Hogsmeade?" Ms. Bones inquired, her sses catching the moonlight as she peered intently at Bryan, seeking answers.

    "Remus Lupin," Bryan revealed, his voice steady. "I''m sure you all know him. He is currently serving as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. s, he has endured much at the hands of werewolves¡ªa tragic plight that may well end his tenure as the professor."

    The mention of Remus Lupin, the werewolf, stirred a collective murmur among the Ministry''s top brass. Dumbledore''s had strongly rmended Lupin as a professor the previous August which was not a secret to them, as it was a decision that had sparked considerable debate.

    Fudge, visibly reluctant, hesitated under Bryan''s prating gaze. A sudden, inexplicable fear spurred him into action. "Very well, but you owe us an exnation, Bryan," he conceded, mopping the sweat from his forehead.

    He turned to Rufus, seeking support from the Head of the Auror Office, which was equally resistant to engage with a dark wizard capable of wielding the formidable Fiendfyre skillfully. Yet, with all eyes upon them, Rufus could not feign ignorance to the Minister''s gestures. He returned Fudge''s gaze with a frown, his reluctance clear.

    Remus, still lying motionless, bore the signs of lycanthropic transformation, a sight that repelled the Aurors and dissuaded them from approaching this dangerous werewolf.

    "Alright, then I''ll make the trip myself--" Bryan shrugged helplessly.

    "Allow me," At this moment, a young voice appeared in the crowd. Before Kingsley could stop her, Tonks had already leaped past him and stood in front of Bryan.

    "I think you can handle this situation, right--" Tonks looked at Bryan with concern and asked softly.

    Bryan responded with a smile.

    "Alright--" Tonks muttered under her breath, "You''ve taken down Greyback and so many werewolves, all by yourself, Bryan, you''re going to be famous now..... Oh! This poor guy has suffered a lot--"

    With a sound akin to a thunderp, Tonks and Remus vanished, spirited away to safety.

    "Now, Bryan, we must address the matter at hand," Fudge insisted, his breathing inbored gasps as he maintained what he thought was a safe distance from Bryan.

    "For Dumbledore''s sake, can you... hand over your wand first?"

    "Regrettably, Minister, I find myself unable toply with your request," Bryan replied, his refusal polite yet firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

    Bryan''s lips curled into a smile, a subtle gesture that belied the gravity of the situation and said, "And I think we''d better not stand here foolishly. There are many things to discuss tonight, so it''s best to talk while walking¡ª"

    Fudge, his face etched with lines of concern and suspicion, immediately tensed at Bryan''s suggestion. "Where are you going?"

    "Heh, to Hogwarts, of course¡ª" Bryan''sughter rang out, light and carefree, as he gestured to the Ministry officials to follow him up the hill.

    "Hurry up, everyone. There is currently a heinous criminal awaiting your judgment at Hogwarts," Bryan announced, his voice carrying an undercurrent of urgency that spurred the officials into motion.

    "If you''re referring to Sirius ck¡ª" Ms. Bones, her spectacles perched precariously on the bridge of her nose, interjected with a note of authority, "We have received notification from the--"

    But before she could finish, Bryan cut in, his voice as light as the breeze that carried it, "It''s Peter Pettigrew."

    The revtion sent a ripple of disbelief through the officials, their exchanged nces a silent conversation of shock and confusion.

    "You''re crazy!" Fudge''s outburst sliced through the tension, his incredulity palpable. "He''s been dead for twelve years, I saw it with my own eyes!!"

    "I believe we should arrest him immediately, Minister."

    The suggestion of immediate arrest hung in the air, a heavy proposition that Bryan met with a casual shrug, as if discussing the weather rather than the fate of a man long thought dead.

    Bryan''s casual attitude made Umbridge''s eyes turn cold, but her face showed a nauseating, sycophantic smile. She leaned over to Fudge''s ear and said coquettishly, "This Director of the Hogwarts Student Safety Office seems to have adopted some rather unsavory habits. Oh, he clearly believes he''s entitled to certain privileges, much like someone else we know. Minister, I''m sure you agree that we can''t allow this to stand¡ª"

    But Kingsley, standing like a statue by the smoldering pit, his face a mask of solemnity, interjected with a firmness that brooked no argument.

    "I''m sorry, Ms. Umbridge, but we can''t do that."

    Standing by the charred ck pit emitting smoke, Kingsley took a deep breath, the scent of char and magic heavy in the air, and faced Umbridge with a gaze that was both steely and weary.

    "I''m afraid the only wizard with that ability is the ''someone'' you just mentioned."

    <strong>*Scene-break*</strong>

    In the shadowy twilight of the Forbidden Forest, Harry and Hermione, with their hearts pounding against their chests, had finally aplished the near-impossible task assigned by Dumbledore. They emerged, carrying the figure of dwarf Peter, who was now encapsted within a silken white chrysalis, a stark contrast to the dark, dense woods they had left behind. The invisibility cloak draped over them now bore the weight of their mission''s sess and the burden of their precious cargo.

    The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant fragrance of magical herbs from Professor Sprout''s greenhouse, which they passed in their hurried escape. Harry''s breaths came in ragged gasps, his voice barely above a whisper,den with urgency and fear, "Hermione¡ªwhat would happen if we didn''t make it back before¡ªDumbledore locks the door?"

    Hermione''s response was tinged with panic, her voice a tremulous echo of Harry''s dread, "I¡­I don''t want to think about it!" She cast a frantic nce at her watch, the hands ticking away their fate. "We only have ten minutes left!"

    It''s in these moments of desperation that fate often has a cruel sense of humor, springing upon them the unexpected when least desired.

    As they traversed the dew-kissedwn, the castle''s towering silhouette loomed ahead, a beacon of safety and a reminder of the ticking clock. But between them and their sanctuary, a group of figures marched with purpose. Harry''s eyes, wide with rm, recognizing the entourage even from a distance.

    "Professor Watson and the Minister of Magic, and and the person next to..."

    "That woman in ck is Amelia Bones, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the person on the left of Minister Fudge is Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office. The people behind them are probably the Ministry''s hit wizards. They are all important figures in the Ministry of Magic, often reported in the Daily Prophet. They probably received the news of Sirius''s arrest."

    Hermione said in a frightened tone, her teeth chattering.

    "They are ahead of us, Harry, we''re done for."

    Except for Professor Watson, the people from the Ministry of Magic didn''t look too good, especially Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

    Although this was the case, Harry and Hermione still did their best to run towards the castle gate. However, they were slowed down by taking care of Peter, and they couldn''t expose their whereabouts so, their speed couldn''tpare to the Ministry officials.

    As the distance between them and the castle gate dwindled to a mere hundred feet, Professor Watson, who was at the front, and had already reached the marble steps at the entrance paused.

    "Wait¨C"

    Bryan''s voice cut through the night, a moment of hesitation before he firmly turned around to Cornelius Fudge, halting the Minister''s progress.

    "There is something very important that needs to be confirmed, as I said earlier, Sirius ck is innocent, the one whomitted the crimes over a decade ago was Peter Pettigrew. In this case, um¡­ the Ministry''s promised bounty-money."

    Just hearing Bryan say that there was something important, Fudge''s heart skipped a beat. He had already been frightened enough tonight, and he was afraid that Bryan had another "surprise" in store for him. But the mention of the bounty-money, a topic he had not anticipated, left him momentarily flustered.

    "The bounty¨C" Fudge stammered, hisplexion a vivid shade of crimson, "Oh¡­ well, yes, there is indeed such a thing, the Ministry of Magic will certainly¡­..Wait a minute."

    Regaining hisposure, Fudge drew a deep breath, his voice regaining its official timbre.

    "All of these are just your one-sided statements, Bryan, I haven''t confirmed it yet!"

    Bryan shrugged nonchntly.

    "Well, even without mentioning that, I remember that Greyback and his pack were also on the Ministry''s wanted list. They all died at my hands, as you witnessed¨C"

    "You used the Fiendfyre¨C" Rufus Scrimgeour interjected coldly. "Bryan Watson, you should know that this vites manyws, enough to send you to Azkaban."

    Facing Scrimgeour''s empty threat, Bryan''s retort was swift, his smilezy and confident.

    "Huh, Greyback and his dogs attacked the young wizards in the castle. As the Director of the Office of Student Safety at Hogwarts, I have the right to use any means to protect their lives from such vile creatures."

    Meanwhile, Umbridge and some Aurors were ordered by Fudge to stay at Hogsmeade to calm the emotions of the people and deal with the reporters from the Daily Prophet who were expected to arrive soon. Now, only Scrimgeour and Bones were with Fudge.

    Amelia Bones stood transfixed on the marble steps of Hogwarts, her gaze locked onto the figure of Bryan Watson, who was illuminated by the flickering red torchlight that danced across the ancient stones. The night air was charged with tension, and the shadows cast by the mes seemed to y tricks on the eyes, giving the scene an almost ethereal quality.

    When Amelia had firstid eyes on the raging Fiendfyre in Hogsmeade, her heart had plummeted into her stomach with fear. The destructive power of the magical fire was well known to her, and its untamed fury was a sight to behold. Yet, here stood Bryan, the very wizard who had conjured such chaos, now calmly negotiating with the highest echelons of the Ministry of Magic.

    Her previous encounters with Bryan had been brief; she knew of his remarkable feat in capturing the Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets and ''gave'' it to Ministry of Magicst year, which allowed Fudge to gain fame among the public and the Ministers of Magic from various countries.

    Dumbledore''s decision to appoint Bryan as the Head of the Office of Student Safety had been a topic of much discussion, but now, witnessing Bryan''s formidable magical prowess firsthand, Amelia couldn''t help but reassess her initial impressions of the young wizard.

    For a fleeting moment, as she watched him stand defiantly in the path of the Ministry, a chilling thought crossed her mind: could she be witnessing the rise of a new Dark Lord? But that notion was quickly dispelled by the absurdity of the situation before her. A Dark Lord would not haggle over bounties; a rising Dark Lord would not gain Dumbledore''s approval¡­

    And These events both confused andforted Amelia Bones.

    "We''ll talk about the bountyter, Bryan!" Fudge, ncing at Filch, who was half-visible behind the castle door, wanting to approach but not daring to interrupt their conversation, and said irritably, "At least let us figure out everything!"

    "Alright then¨C" Bryan''s voice trailed off, his expression one of feigned disappointment. He turned away from Fudge, casting a nce at a nearby marble pir, where the faintest twitch of his mouth suggested a hidden amusement at the unfolding drama.

    Meanwhile, Harry and Hermione were making their own silent ascent up the stairs adjacent to the entrance hall. Harry''s breaths were heavy with exertion as he whispered, "Do you think Professor Watson noticed us?"

    "Of course, Harry." Hermione''s reply was weary, her body and spirit drained from the night''s ordeals. She copsed onto the stairs, her voice barely above a whisper, "Did you forget what happenedst time at the Three Broomsticks Pub? We don''t have time to worry about that now, we need to hurry back to the hospital wing. We only have two minutes left!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0299 Negotiations

    0299 Negotiations

    The corridor leading to the hospital wing was a beacon of light and activity in the otherwise darkened castle. Madam Pomfrey, the matron, was a flurry of motion, darting between rooms with a sense of urgency that matched the gravity of the situation.

    Harry and Hermione approached their room, which remained closed. As they neared the door, Dumbledore''s voice reached them, muffled but clear, "If you''re not sure what to do, Miss Granger, I suggest you follow the original path. I wish you good luck."

    Then, the door opened, and Dumbledore appeared in front of them.

    "Professor Dumbledore!"

    Harry wasn''t sure if he should reveal himself now, as they wouldn''t be able to exin if they were caught by Madam Pomfrey. But he also wasn''t sure if Dumbledore could see him, so he could only make a sound to remind him of their presence.

    "Professor, we did it!" Harry said, out of breath. "We caught Peter, he''s trapped in the chrysalis, and I think he''s still alive."

    Dumbledore listened intently, his eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of movement. His gaze finally settled on Harry, and a smile touched his lips, "You''ve created a miracle again, Harry, and Hermione, well done. I think¡ªoh, now''s not the time to chat. Hand Peter over to me, and you''d better hurry back to the ward to rest¡ª"

    <strong>Snap¡ª</strong>

    With a snap of his fingers, Dumbledore conjured a stretcher out of thin air. The chrysalis containing Peter floated gracefully from beneath the invisibility cloak and settled onto the stretcher. Dumbledore''s expression, usually warm and inviting, now turned icy as he gazed at the chrysalis, his eyes reflecting a steely resolve emitted an aura that Harry and Hermione had never seen before.

    "Professor Dumbledore¨C" Hermione''s voice quivered with a mixture of awe and fear. "How are you going to exin this to the Ministry, I mean, the process of capturing Peter?"

    "Don''t worry, there will be an exnation--" Dumbledore said gently.

    "One more thing, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione interjected, urgencycing her words, "the people from the Ministry have arrived downstairs. There''s a whole group of them, and Professor Watson is with them."

    With a nod that conveyed a multitude of unspoken assurances, Dumbledore departed, his silhouette merging with the shadows as he carried Peter away. Harry and Hermione, their hearts still racing from the adrenaline of their escapade, slipped into the room. They stole onest fleeting nce at the receding figures, the torchlight casting a soft glow on the walls as they disappeared from view.

    "This trip was really not easy," Harry remarked, the corners of his mouth lifting into a grin that belied the gravity of their situation. He took off the invisibility cloak, its fabrding to the floor.

    "But I have to say, the feeling of traveling through time is so amazing," he continued, his eyes alight with the thrill of their adventure, a spark of wonder flickering within.

    Hermione, her own smile mirroring Harry''s, was on the cusp of voicing her thoughts when a sudden, faint crackling sound pierced the moment, akin to the delicate shattering of ss. Her smile faltered, her lips parting in a silent gasp of shock.

    Her expression congealed into one of stark disbelief as she lowered her gaze, her fingers trembling as they sought the source of the ominous sound. With a haste born of dread, she extracted the hourss pendant that had been nestled against her chest, its chain clinking softly in the quiet room.

    The hourss, once whole and brimming with the golden sands of time, now bore a slender, jagged crack, a w marring its otherwise pristine surface. The light caught the fracture, casting prismatic reflections that danced mockingly across Hermione''s face. And before her disbelieving eyes, the sands within began to drift away, each grain a fleeting memory, a moment slipping through the cracks of time itself.

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    The moon had vanished from the sky, along with the myriad stars, marking the darkest hour before dawn. A chilling silence ruled thend, and Hogwarts shone like a beacon in the endless night, or perhaps a lighthouse standing alone against the stormy coast, dispelling the fear that gnawed at one''s heart.

    "If I were to rank the worst things that have happened in the past twelve years, before today, Dumbledore, I can tell you for sure that it was Sirius ck''s escape from Azkaban. But now, something even more dreadful has happened!"

    Half an hour ago, led by Bryan, Fudge and a group of Ministry officials stormed into the Hospital Wing.

    Ignoring Madam Pomfrey''s stern protest, at Fudge''s signal, Rufus Scrimgeour swiftly dispatched his subordinates to rece Professor McGonagall and the others, and began guarding all the staff who entered the Forbidden Forest tonight.

    Especially Sirius, who was unconscious, more than half of the Aurors, including Kingsley, squatted by his bedside, pointing their wands at him. The majority of the remaining Aurors were interrogating Peter in an abandoned ssroom.

    The general situation of the matter has been exined by Bryan on the way from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, but that was only his side of the story. Moreover, Bryan himself used a very powerful dark magic spell-The Fiendfyre Curse in front of everyone, even though it was to y the ''evil'' werewolves, it greatly reduced his credibility in Fudge''s mind.

    However, when Dumbledore led them to the supposedly deceased hero, Peter Pettigrew, everything didn''t need any further exnation.

    "Sirius is, in fact, innocent!"

    Bryan offered his office, and Fudge and Mrs. Bones, representing the Ministry''s will, as well as Dumbledore and Bryan himself, representing Hogwarts, were discussing how to handle this matter properly.

    Dumbledore sat upright on the sofa against the wall, with Mrs. Bones sitting in a simr posture.

    And Bryan, who didn''t need to express his opinion for the time being, squatted in front of the firece with his back to everyone, absentmindedly fiddling with the firewood inside the firece.

    Only Fudge, with a head as big as a bull, paced back and forth in the spacious office. He kept wiping the sweat from his forehead, but his face was pale.

    "I understand your concerns, Cornelius--"

    Dumbledore''s deep blue eyes shed with a hint of helplessness, his voice still calm.

    "But we have to face the facts, face the truth--"

    "The truth?!"Fudge stopped in his tracks,ughing bitterly in anger.

    "Who cares about the truth, Dumbledore? Is it Sirius ck, the Daily Prophet, or the denizens of Magical Britain?"

    After holding back for so long, Fudge finally let loose, his shrill rant making the office windows tremble.

    "--If ck cared about the truth, he should have spoken up twelve years ago instead of allowing himself to be sent to Azkaban!

    Does the Daily Prophet and its shareholders care about the truth? They only care about whether the front page of the newspaper has content that interests the public. If sensationalism drives sales, then the manufacturers of brooms and cauldrons will eagerly part with more Galleons for advertising space!

    And the public¡ªdo they truly seek the truth? Oh, Dumbledore, they crave enthralling tales, they idolize tragic figures. They only want to see the Ministry of Magic in trouble. Well, now they have their wish fulfilled, but at what cost? Only the Ministry, only the Ministry of Magic stands to suffer the consequences!

    The foolish Ministry of Magic awarded a Death Eater the Order of Merlin, First ss, and sent the hero who fought against the Dark Lord to the depths of Azkaban. Haha, it''s really ironic. The reputation of the Ministry of Magic ispletely ruined, in my hands!"

    "Cornelius--" Mrs. Bones''s face was solemn as she gently reminded Fudge to pay attention to his image. "It is precisely because the situation is so delicate that we must stay calm."

    Fudge stared at the floor and stopped speaking, while Mrs. Bones adjusted her sses and turned her gaze to Dumbledore, expressing her concerns.

    "Albus, Cornelius''s worries are reasonable. If we can''t handle this matter properly, the credibility of the Ministry and Wizengamot will be affected. People will no longer trust us, and we cannot afford such a loss."

    In fact, with Dumbledore''s experience and wisdom, how could he not have considered these things? However, perspectives differ, and the focus of concern is different. Moreover, some things were not suitable for him to say.

    A glimmer of light shed in Dumbledore''s half-moon spectacles, and he stared at Bryan, who had been squatting there fiddling with the firewood for a long time, making the office ufortably warm with a sigh of helplessness in his heart.

    Apart from the crackling sound of sparks bursting, the office fell silent, and no one wanted to express their opinions easily.

    Sirius, lying unconscious on the hospital bed, probably didn''t realize how much trouble his actions had caused the Ministry, and how much trouble it had caused to Dumbledore, who wanted to save him.

    Once the truth is known to the public, the Ministry will immediately be aughingstock. This is a very serious political incident, and someone must take responsibility for the damaged reputation of the Ministry. This almost means that Fudge will have to step down voluntarily. Therefore, it is very difficult to make Fudge voluntarily rify the truth and restore Sirius''s innocence.

    "Let me be blunt, Dumbledore--" After a long pause, Fudge, in the most awkward position, gasped and said, "You have to order everyone at Hogwarts who knows about this to keep it a secret. Peter will be imprisoned secretly in Azkaban, and he will be sentenced to lifelong imprisonment in secret.

    As for Sirius ck, the Ministry will revoke and withdraw the wanted order at an appropriate time, I mean, when people are no longer paying attention to this matter. You understand what I mean, he just needs to keep a low profile and live outside. Of course, the Ministry canpensate for the wrongful trial and twelve years of imprisonment."

    Dumbledore''s expression showed no surprise, as if he had already anticipated Fudge''s calctions in his heart.

    "This is unfair to Sirius, Cornelius--" Dumbledore lowered his eyelids and said wearily.

    Mrs. Bones on the other side also looked very troubled. On the one hand, Fudge''s decision does not match her personal style of doing things, and she cannot support Fudge''s approach. On the other hand, as a representative of the Wizengamot, she must consider the far-reaching impact of this matter.

    "It was his own choice, wasn''t it?" Fudge retorted, his expression darkening with a cold resolve.

    "He had the chance, not only back then, but throughout these twelve years, to speak the truth at any time. But he chose to remain silent."

    Fudge paused, as if to let the weight of his words settle, before continuing.

    "And, I think you haven''t forgotten, Dumbledore, in Septemberst year, Sirius tried to enter Grimmauld ce, which was being monitored by the Aurors. He caused great damage to the Muggle world and even kept an Auror in St. Mungo''s Hospital for a few days. Based on this charge alone, he deserves twelve years of imprisonment. And now, the Ministry can choose to let bygones be bygones--"

    "There is no evidence to prove that the Dark Wizard who appeared in Grimmauld ce in London at that time was Sirius ck, Cornelius. And I think you now know very well that it wasn''t Sirius--"

    Dumbledore said in a serious tone, "I guess it was just a Dark Wizard who tried to break into the ck family''s Manor, trying to find Sirius and exchange him for a bounty from the Ministry."

    <em>''Cough, cough, yes, that''s me.''</em>

    Bryan, who had been facing away from everyone, smiled slightly.

    The situation once again reached a stalemate. Whether it was Fudge or Dumbledore, neither could give up their own views. And Madam Bones, who was known for her fairness, was also caught in a dilemma for various reasons. This was a difficult game, and if it continued like this, both sides would suffer.

    Of course, Dumbledore had the power to overturn the negotiation table, but he couldn''t do that. It conflicted with the principles he had always adhered to.

    "Cough¡ªCough--" Bryan, who was choked by the flying ashes, coughed a few times, muttering in confusion, "Who was it that presided over the trial and ordered Sirius ck to be sent to Azkaban back then?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0300 His Thoughts

    0300 His Thoughts

    "Cough¡ªCough--" Bryan, who was choked by the flying ashes, coughed a few times, muttering in confusion, "Who was it that presided over the trial and ordered Sirius ck to be sent to Azkaban back then?"

    Bryan''s voice was barely audible, a soft murmur that seemed to blend seamlessly with the hushed ambiance of the dimly-lit office. The room, usually bustling with the day''s cacophony, nowy in a thick nket of silence, punctuated only by the faint crackling of the firece.

    Who would have thought that Bryan Watson, the once-unknown Director of the Student Safety Office at Hogwarts, would catapult into the limelight after the events of this fateful evening?

    His curiosity wasn''t merely piqued by the Ministry of Magic official who had presided over the infamous trial of Sirius ck. No, there was something more, a hiddenyer of intrigue that seemed to cling to his every word.

    Madam Amelia Bones, with her stern demeanor and piercing gaze, allowed a rare frown to crease her forehead, while Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, experienced a subtle shift in his usuallyposed expression.

    After Bryan''s cryptic utterance, one might have expected a flurry of heated debate to ensue. Instead, the office was engulfed in an eerie silence so profound it felt almost tangible, as if the very air had solidified into a barrier of anticipation.

    "Bryan¨C" Albus Dumbledore, the venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts, spoke, his voice a calm counterpoint to the surrounding stillness. His beard, a cascade of silver, shifted slightly as he posed his question, "Perhaps you''d like to share your thoughts with us?"

    It was then that Bryan rose from his chair, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He rubbed at his waist, a subtle acknowledgment of difort, before taking measured steps towards the window adjacent to the firece. With a gentle push, the window swung open, inviting the crisp night air into the room. The previously oppressive atmosphere dissipated instantly, reced by the refreshing chill of the outside world.

    Turning to face the room, Bryan leaned casually against the windowsill. His eyes met those of the Minister of Magic, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Dumbledore himself. A serene smile yed upon his lips as he spoke, "I don''t have any great insights, Headmaster Dumbledore."

    The upants of the room, each a titan in their own right, had braced themselves for a revtion, a wise answer through Bryan''s words. Yet, what followed was an unexpected silence. Bryan simply reached for the teacup resting on the mantelpiece and took a leisurely sip, as if the weight of the room''s expectations were no more than a trifle.

    "Cough¨C"

    Fudge, attempting to maintain an air of nonchnce, returned to the plushfort of the sofa. He lifted the teacup from the low coffee table and brought it to his lips. The bitter brew that greeted him was a stark contrast to the sweet victory he had anticipated. With a grimace, he reced the cup, his distaste for the concoction evident.

    Seeking sce in shared counsel, Fudge turned his gaze to Madam Bones, who sat opposite him. Yet, she remained inscrutable, her furrowed brows a testament to her reluctance to engage in discussion over Bryan''s subtle reminder. Left with no ally in his corner, Fudge''s eyes pleaded with Dumbledore for guidance.

    Dumbledore did respond to Fudge''s gaze, but like their usual private exchanges, his probing fell into Dumbledore''s deep eyes without causing any ripples.

    Fudge knew, with a sinking realization, that the burden of the situation rested squarely upon his shoulders as he was the one who will suffer the most in this matter, so he had to solve it himself.

    "Cough cough¨C"

    Clearing his throat, Fudge mustered a semnce of kindness in his tone, "Bryan, perhaps you''re not fully aware of the situations within the department. Old Barty is not someone who easily yields. Your opinion, while valued, may incite serious discord and opposition within the Ministry."

    When Bryan''s gaze turned towards him, Fudge''s temples throbbed, and a sense of panic surged uncontrobly. Fudge was confused as to why he had such a reaction, but after a brief moment of contemtion, he understood.

    It was rted to Bryan single-handedly killing nearly a hundred werewolves, including the notorious werewolf leader Fenrir Greyback, earlier tonight.

    The Ministry of Magic boasted an array of elite wizards, each skilled in their own right, with duelists of the highest caliber among them. Yet, Fudge was acutely aware that even a full mobilization of the Auror Office would struggle to replicate Bryan''s clean sweep of the lycanthropic horde.

    Since the name Bryan Watson had firste to his attention, Fudge had recognized the young wizard''s potential. But never had he fathomed that this same young man possessed a prowess so extraordinary, it eclipsed the collective might of the Ministry''s own enforcement capabilities.

    And perhaps most disconcerting of all was the realization that this young man bore little resemnce to Dumbledore in demeanor or approach.

    Fudge shifted uneasily, his lips parting as he prepared to voice his thoughts. But before he could speak, Bryan, with an air of genuine perplexity, interjected, "Did I say something wrong, Minister Fudge? ... Barty, I believe you''re referring to Mr. Barty Crouch Sr., the head of the International Magical Cooperation Department. What relevance does he hold in this context?"

    With a cautious swallow, Fudge closed his mouth, opting for silence.

    Madam Bones, witnessing the exchange, felt a stir of admiration for the young man she was encountering for the first time.

    As one of the few senior officials in the Ministry of Magic with real power, Each year, as fresh-faced graduates from Hogwarts stepped eagerly into the world of magical governance, she greeted them with a discerning eye. Many had shown promise, yet none had struck her with such a profound sense of awe as Bryan had.

    Amelia had known about Bryan long before receiving the Basilisk from the Ministry. As early asst year, when Bryan entered Hogwarts as an investigator, she had learned about it through various channels, but she hadn''t paid much attention.

    Later, her niece Susan informed her in a letter about the practical lessons that Professor Watson, who also taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, was giving to the young wizards. That''s when she took an interest in this young man¡ªa young wizard with the courage and talent suitable for teaching that subject, that was her assessment of Bryan Watson at the time.

    Before tonight, if someone had asked her who in the Wizarding world could single-handedly kill dozens of werewolves, Amelia believed there was only one answer. But now, there was another correct answer.

    And Bryan''s words just now proved his keen political wisdom.

    A young wizard in his early twenties, possessing courage, talent, wisdom, and formidable Magic power thatmanded respect. Amelia''s mood becameplicated as she calmly nced at Dumbledore by her side.

    In fact, this matter was not as difficult to resolve as imagined. It was just that Fudge had walked into a dead end and couldn''t find a way out. Bryan could have stood on the sidelines and ignored the Ministry''s predicament, but he was also worried that this predicament would drive Fudge to extremes and refuse to acknowledge the fact that Sirius ck was innocent.

    "In fact, this matter is not as difficult to handle as imagined--"

    Fudge''s performance was consistently disappointing, and Bryan no longer held any hope for his intelligence. After pondering for a moment and organizing his words in his mind, Bryan smiled and said, "Minister Fudge, I don''t understand why you are so anxious. Just an hour ago, the Ministry of Magic had just eradicated a heinous criminal gang,pletely freeing themon magical popce from the terror of werewolves, right?"

    <em>''The Ministry eradicated Greyback''s werewolf gang?''</em>

    Fudge''s expression froze, staring at Bryan, he stammered, "But this matter, I mean, so many people in Hogsmeade saw¡ª"

    <strong>Sigh¡ª</strong> Bryan sighed inwardly. <em>''Did Voldemort''s reign of terror wiped out all thepetent people in the Ministry, leaving such a dim-witted person in charge?''</em>

    "Indeed, the vigers are witnesses to the event. It was I who judged Greyback and his criminal gang. But how did I find this pack of werewolves? Clearly, it couldn''t have been without the Ministry''s intelligence. This night''s confrontation was no chance urrence; it was a meticulously orchestrated ambush. That''s why the Ministry could respond so swiftly, with with the Minister himself arriving on the scene leading his trusted Elite Aurors just as the werewolves were about to attack the vige."

    <em>''Could the narrative really be spun this way?''</em>

    Fudge, who had been pale moments ago, now flushed red, gasped for breath as he said, "But Sirius ck¡ª"

    Bryan''s smile was warm, and he patiently said, "By eradicating the infamous Werewolf Syndicate, it is foreseeable that the Ministry of Magic''s prestige will soar in the hearts of the general public. At that time, we can inform the wizarding world that in the process of tracking down Greyback''s gang, the Ministry identally discovered that Sirius ck, who was believed to have betrayed the Potters, is innocent.

    Through interrogation, unexpected information was revealed: Sirius ck, known to the world as the betrayer of the Potters, was actually innocent. The real culprit was Peter Pettigrew, and based on certain clues, the Ministry determined that Pettigrew was also hiding in the Forbidden Forest. To catch Pettigrew and avoid startling him, the Ministry temporarily concealed the fact that Sirius ck was innocent.

    Now, Pettigrew, who has been on the run, has also been captured and awaits trial byw. Of course, due to the Ministry''s oversight, Sirius ck''s wrongful imprisonment is an unavoidable fact, and someone in the Ministry will be held ountable. The general idea is this; the specific details can be filled inter¡ª"

    <em><strong>*Silence*</strong></em>

    From the moment Bryan began to exin his thoughts, Dumbledore''s expression soured as he heard them. Such acts of deceiving themon folk with lies and rhetoric could never earn his approval. Watching the young wizard speaking eloquently by the windowsill on the other side of the room, Dumbledore once again felt grateful for his earlier decision.

    Keeping Bryan at Hogwarts was a good thing, both for the Wizarding world and for the man himself.

    Madam Bones, to some extent, appreciated Bryan''s suggestions. Although she had spent half her life advocating for the legal rights of ordinary wizards, she knew very well that there was no absolute right or wrong in the world. In the face of many difficulties,promises had to be made, otherwise, more ordinary people who were powerless against fate would suffer.

    Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, was visibly animated by Bryan''s discourse. His enthusiasm was palpable as he leaped from his seat, his voice booming with approval.

    "You''re a genius, Bryan!"

    As soon as Bryan finished speaking, Fudge jumped up from the sofa, clenched his fist and pounded his palm, excitedly saying,

    "That''s right, that''s what we''ll do. We should first inform the public that the Ministry of Magic has captured Greyback, and then bring up Sirius ck''s situation. The order is very important!"

    Once he regained his senses, Fudge began pacing back and forth in the office, muttering to himself,

    "The public will be extremely grateful to us for eliminating Greyback. They won''t hold onto our mistakes. People''s confidence in the Ministry of Magic will even increase. Sirius ck himself has some issues, of course, but we will still take responsibility. I''ll convince old Barty, he won''t have anything to say. It was his mistake in the first ce--"

    In his excitement, Fudge clicked his tongue in slight dissatisfaction.

    "You should have been gentler, Bryan. If we could publicly show Greyback and Peter both, the effect would be much better, and we would also reduce the impact of this matter."

    "Sorry--"

    Bryan, with a shrug of his shoulders and a helpless expression, defended his actions.

    "You know, Minister, when the werewolves tried to storm Hogsmeade and attack the vigers, there were many of them and their emotions were unstable. I could only use some magic that was not easy to control in terms of power--"

    "That''s understandable¡ª"

    Fudge said with a smile, but still wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0301 Invitation

    0301 Invitation

    In his excitement, Fudge clicked his tongue in slight dissatisfaction.

    "You should have been gentler, Bryan. If we could publicly show Greyback and Peter both, the effect would be much better, and we would also reduce the impact of this matter."

    "Sorry--"

    Bryan, with a shrug of his shoulders and a helpless expression, defended his actions.

    "You know, Minister, when the werewolves tried to storm Hogsmeade and attack the vigers, there were many of them and their emotions were unstable. I could only use some magic that was not easy to control in terms of power--"

    "That''s understandable¡ª"

    Fudge said with a smile, but still wiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

    "That''s settled then. I''ll go and tell Rufus to keep it a secret for now. Sirius ck''s situation still needs to be kept confidential for a few more days. Oh, by the way, Dumbledore, would youe with me? The school staff also needs to be on the same page as us. Do you have any objections, Dumbledore?"

    "Of course, Cornelius--"

    Dumbledore calmly said, getting up and walking towards the door.

    "Oh, by the way!"

    As the office door opened, Fudge suddenly turned around, looking kindly at Bryan, and smiled, "Your efforts won''t go unnoticed, Bryan. Just wait, the Ministry of Magic''s gratitude will surprise you."

    "I look forward to it--" Bryan nodded and smiled in return.

    With the office door closed, Fudge took a deep breath, filled with fighting spirit as he prepared to ascend the stairs. It was then that the overly quiet Dumbledore finally made him sense something amiss, magnifying his inner concerns about Bryan.

    "Bryan" Fudge hesitated and said, "Well, Dumbledore, I suppose since you hired Bryan Watson to protect the children, it must mean you haveplete trust in him. He''s young and possesses such formidable magic power. You understand what I mean, right?"

    Dumbledore, striding forward, responded to Fudge''s unspoken fears.

    "If you''re worried that Bryan will follow in Voldemort''s footsteps--"

    In the sound of Fudge''s gasp, Dumbledore walked forward with big steps, "I don''t think there''s a need to worry too much."

    "I guess--"

    In the aftermath of Fudge and Dumbledore''s departure, the once stifling air of tension within the office dissipated like mist under the morning sun. Madam Amelia Bones, a paragon of justice within the wizarding world, sat with an air ofposed authority on the plush sofa, her lips pressed into a thoughtful line. Her keen eyes, which had seen much in her esteemed career, regarded Bryan with a mixture of curiosity and contemtion.

    "Cornelius probably has the idea of recruiting you into the Ministry¡ª"

    Amelia Bones, the Chief of the Magical Law Enforcement Department and a high-ranking member of the Wizengamot, was well-known and highly respected in the European wizarding world. There were even rumors that she had a good chance of bing the Minister of Magic after Fudge.

    "Well, he would be disappointed then--"

    Bryan sat in Dumbledore''s previous seat, smiling without a care. He could see that Fudge probably didn''t have a strong desire for him to join the Ministry, but this woman in front of him, Amelia Bones, probably had the idea of bringing him into the Ministry and working in the Auror Office under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

    "It''s surprising--"

    Madam Bones didn''t know that her thoughts had been seen through by Bryan. With a tone of surprise and regret, she said, "Many young wizards who graduate from school hope to work in the Ministry of Magic. If they knew that someone had been personally invited by the Minister himself but declined, they would be furious!"

    Bryan didn''t reveal anything, just continued with Madam Bones''s words,

    "As far as I know, one of my ssmates, Bill Weasley from the Weasley family, once refused an invitation from the Ministry of Magic and became a curse breaker at Gringotts in Egypt. And Headmaster Dumbledore himself has repeatedly declined people''s proposals to be Minister of Magic. Compared to the Ministry of Magic, I personally prefer a more rxed and free working environment--"

    Sinceing out of the cave where Voldemort hid the locket, Bryan had a vague feeling that the final moment of Voldemort''s return to the wizarding world was not far away.

    Before that, he needed to make some preparations. Gaining prestige in the Wizarding world and having some influence within the Ministry was also part of his n.

    Observing the fleeting look of regret that danced across Madam Bones''s eyes, Bryan offered a reassuring smile.

    "Of course, if the Ministry of Magic needs my help, I am willing to assist--"

    Meanwhile, in the hospital wing, a scene of quiet turmoil unfolded.

    "How could that be?"

    Hermione, her eyes brimming with tears, clutched the inert Time-Turner in her trembling hands. Her distress was palpable as she paced the room, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily upon her.

    "The Time-Turner¡ªit''s broken! How could this have happened?" shemented, her voice tinged with panic. "Maybe it got damaged during the ride, but oh, I''ve caused trouble, Harry. The Time-Turner is a strictly regted item by the Ministry of Magic, and each one is registered. Professor McGonagall told me when she gave it to me, she warned me to take good care of it. If it''s lost or damaged--"

    As she spoke, Hermione''s slender frame shook with barely contained fear, and she sumbed to quiet sobs, the words catching in her throat.

    Harry, witnessing her distress, felt a surge of urgency.

    "What will happen now, Hermione?" He hadn''t read the regtions regarding Time-Turners, but seeing Hermione''s reaction, he had an idea of the severity of the situation and urgently asked.

    "They might¡ªoh¡ª"

    Hermione''s response was choked with emotion, her tears carving paths down her cheeks as she whispered the dreaded possibility.

    "The Ministry¡­ they might prosecute me. I could be sent to Azkaban, Harry-"

    The very thought seemed to drain the color from her face, leaving her looking ghostly pale in the dim light of the infirmary.

    Even though Harry had tried to imagine the consequences as severe as possible, when he heard Hermione''s words, he was still taken aback.

    "You must be joking, Hermione--" Harry said nervously, "How could it be so serious?"

    But Hermione''s despair was unyielding as she considered the full implications of their actions.

    "Think about what we did tonight, Harry. Isn''t that enough to make you realize how powerful the Time-Turner is? To prevent it from falling into the wrong hands, all thews rted to Time-Turners are the strictest!"

    Hermione eximed in despair.

    "I can''t imagine what my parents'' faces would look like when the school notifies them that I''ve been sent to wizarding prison!"

    The thought of Hermione being sent to Azkaban was terrifying. Harry would rather go back and face that spider named Aragog again than let this happen.

    In this moment, Dumbledore was the first person Harry thought of.

    Using the Time-Turner to find Peter was Professor Dumbledore''s idea, and he would definitely not stand by and do nothing. But then he thought, if breaking a Time-Turner was an unforgivable offense, Dumbledore would surely take all the me upon himself. Harry would rather go to Azkaban himself than involve Dumbledore.

    "Oh, right!"

    Harry suddenly eximed with a frown on his face,

    "We can go to Professor Watson!"

    In Hermione''s puzzled gaze, Harry confidently smiled,

    "Professor Watson is very good at fixing things. Maybe he has a way to repair the Time-Turner!"

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    In the dimly lit corridors of the Ministry of Magic, the air was thick with tension and urgency. Cornelius Fudge, his face etched with lines of concern and authority, led a procession of officials through thebyrinthine halls, their footsteps echoing ominously. They were apanied by the figure of Dwarf Peter, whose shackles clinked with each small step, and Sirius ck, whose injuries had rendered him barely conscious, his breathing shallow andbored.

    Upon learning that he would not face execution but would instead be condemned to the dementor-infested depths of Azkaban sent a wave of relief crashing over him. Peter crumpled to the cold, stone floor, tears of joy mingling with the grime of his face. For him, life in Azkaban was a sliver of hope in the darkness that had be his existence.

    As long as he was alive, there was still that hope.

    Dumbledore did not reveal the Ministry of Magic''s ns to Professor McGonagall and the others. He simply told them that, considering the impact of this situation, they needed to keep the truth about Sirius''s innocence a secret for the time being. However, he promised that this secrecy would notst long, and within a week at most, the truth would be revealed to the world.

    Upon hearing Dumbledore''s words, Harry, who had the most intense reaction, had no choice but toply and obediently return to bed to rest.

    Tonight was destined to be a sleepless night. The Ministry of Magic needed to release a brief statement before eight o''clock the next morning. Even Barty Crouch Sr., who was on a visit to Germany, received a notification from Ministry and needed to return immediately for an emergency meeting.

    The Daily Prophet, alerted to the situation, sent out all of its reporters. Some were responsible for gathering information from the mouths of the rarely seen high-ranking officials of the Ministry of Magic, while others went door to door in Hogsmeade, trying to learn more details from the vigers.

    Back at Hogwarts, the castle had settled into a deceptive calm. Professor Flitwick remained vignt, aiding Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary, where Hagrid and Snape were under her meticulous care. The rest of the faculty and involved students, drained from the day''s upheavals, sought thefort of their beds, and returned to their dormitories to rest.

    <strong>Knock, knock, knock...</strong>

    The door was knocked, and Bryan, who had his feet propped up on the coffee table and was resting on the couch with his eyes closed, opened his eyes.

    Dumbledore''s expression showed no signs of anything unusual. After receiving permission, he walked in with a smile and sat on the couch. After taking a few sips of the hot tea that Bryan had brewed for him, he said with a smile, "Ah, a wonderful drink¡ª"

    Dumbledore raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "While I personally have a sweet tooth, I must admit, this bitter drink is not bad at all, oh and it even has a bit of a stimting effect!"

    Bryan chuckled and leaned back on the couch. The steam rising from the tea cup blurred his expression. "Remus had a bit of a rough night. Earlier in Hogsmeade, Tonks had already taken him to St. Mungo''s. Given his condition, I''m afraid you''ll need to find a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the second half of the term¡ª"

    Dumbledore''s mood soured at once, and he sighed, "Every summer break, I''m faced with this troublesome task, and this year is particrly bad. Bryan, would you consider taking over the ss for a while?"

    It was a redundant question; Dumbledore knew the answer he would receive.

    Their casual conversationsted about twenty minutes. Bryan brought up Madam Bones''s ulterior motives, and Dumbledore''s unworried demeanor struck Bryan as odd. "Aren''t you concerned I might change my mind and take this opportunity to leave Hogwarts for a higher position at the Ministry?"

    "Oh, about that¡ª" Dumbledoreughed without a hint of concern. "Yes, I know you wouldn''t choose the Ministry. We''re both Wizards adept at scheming, but for various reasons, we prefer not to resort to such tactics to solve problems. However, working at the Ministry would likely make it difficult to avoid¡ª"

    The conversation between the two powerful wizards, each with a strong personal style, was not warm at the beginning. While they sought the same oues, their methods could be vastly different, and conflicts were inevitable unless one sidepromised.

    At the beginning of the conversation, Bryan was worried.

    He had agreed to return to Hogwarts because he sensed sincerity in Dumbledore''s attitude¡ªthat he would not easily interfere with what he wanted to do and how he did it.

    But tonight''s events were far-reaching, and Bryan was unsure if Dumbledore could "stick to his principles." However, it now seemed that Dumbledore had made up his mind and hoped that Bryan would stay at Hogwarts, even if it meant changing some of his principles.

    With this revtion, the subtle undercurrent of tension that had threaded through their earlier exchanges dissipated like mist at dawn. A newfound harmony enveloped their conversation, softening the edges of their words and smoothing the furrows of concern that had marred their brows.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0302 The Price

    0302 The Price

    Bryan recounted his journey, his voice echoing slightly in the vastness of the room. "--The Whomping Willow by the Quidditch pitch. I learned from Harry that it is a secret passage that even Fudge didn''t know about. Following that passage, I arrived at the Shrieking Shack. And that night, it was cold, so Sirius left the cave where he usually hid to avoid the heavy snow--"

    "A wonderful coincidence--" Dumbledore interjected, his voice tinged with a note of admiration. "Thanks to this coincidence, you found Sirius and uncovered the truth, preventing us from continuing down the wrong path."

    A heavy sigh escaped Dumbledore''s lips, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of countless regrets. "This incident has once again proven that I am prone to mistakes in crucial matters. I don''t wish to make excuses for myself, Bryan, but I did find it odd that Sirius would betray the Potters, yet grief over their demise clouded my judgment, and I never took the time to speak with Sirius properly. This tragedy could have been avoided, and now, because of Peter, so many have been hurt, including a innocent young wizard¡ª"

    Setting aside the others, Draco was indeed unfortunate, having been controlled by Peter''s Imperius Curse for so long. This could indeed be considered an oversight by Dumbledore and Bryan.

    "Regarding Draco''s situation¡ª" Bryan pondered for a moment, "I''ll find an opportunity to talk with Lucius. It''s foreseeable that he will be angry about what happened to Draco, but considering that I helped him solve a problem, I think he will remain quiet."

    Dumbledore shook his head, his face full of guilt. Bryan understood that Dumbledore was not concerned about Lucius Malfoy''s anger and revenge. It was Draco''s well-being that weighed heavily on his conscience.

    "The oue is good, isn''t it, Headmaster? We can''t cover everything perfectly¡ª" Dumbledore''s self-reproachful expression touched Bryan, and heforted him.

    "Yes, indeed, despite some costs, we''ve managed to correct the mistakes made¡ª" Dumbledore took a deep breath, his dejection fading.

    "I have some good news to share with you, Bryan¡ª" The lines of age on Dumbledore''s face softened, and a spark of vitality returned to his eyes.

    "Do you remember what I''ve been searching for all this time?"

    "Voldemort''s Horcruxes?" Bryan''s eyes narrowed with intensity. "You found that House elf¡ª"

    "Underneath an abandoned bridge in London¡ª" Dumbledore''s beard quivered with a hint of relief in his voice, "When I found it, the poor creature was in a pitiable state, bewildered and clinging to life, but fortunately, I still managed to find some extremely valuable clues from its memory¡ª"

    Bryan had already destroyed two of Voldemort''s Horcruxes and could no longer remain uninvolved. Dumbledore did not keep him in suspense and happily said,

    "Simr to the diadem, this is yet another artifact left by the founders of Hogwarts. Tom harbored a peculiar fascination for these relics!"

    <strong>Uh¡ª</strong> Bryan''s expression subtly changed as he watched the enthusiastic Dumbledore.

    "There are two items in total, one belonging to Hufflepuff¡ªa golden cup, and the other of even greater significance to Tom¡ªa delicate locket once the possession of Szar Slytherin himself!"

    Dumbledore drew his wand and concentrated as he moved it in front of him, silver mist rising from the tip of the elder wand, converging into the shapes of the cup and locket in mid-air.

    Afterpleting this, Dumbledore turned to Bryan, expecting to see a face of surprise, but Bryan''s peculiar expression left him puzzled.

    "What''s wrong, Bryan?" Dumbledore furrowed his brow and asked in a serious tone, "Is there something off?"

    "Nothing. This locket looks familiar, like this one of mine." After rummaging in his chest for a moment, Bryan pulled out a gold chain.

    The swaying locket reflected the pale morning light on Dumbledore''s astonished, aged cheeks.

    "Same old price, Headmaster?" Bryan blinked, asking earnestly.

    <strong><em>*Silence*</em></strong>

    As dawn''s first light kissed the horizon, a celestial halo that once shimmered with the promise of a new day began to fade into a somber gray.

    The world outsidey under a veil of silence, broken only by the mournful howl of the wind. It danced a wild, whistling ballet through the ancient stone towers of Hogwarts, weaving through corridors that bore the scars of countless storms, its breath rattling the windows in their frames.

    The gusts that invaded the office yed with Dumbledore''s silver-white beard, lifting it like the wings of a great bird, revealing his slightly open mouth in front of Bryan.

    "This is¡­ real," he whispered, a murmur lost amidst the sound of the storm. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea and just as deep, peered over the rims of his half-moon spectacles, fixated on the object that dangled before him¡ªa locket, its surface catching the flickering light of the fire.

    "Guaranteed genuine, I nearly emptied my coffers to acquire it!" Bryan spoke with feigned heartache.

    "Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore''s voice trailed off, a fleeting shadow of helplessness flickered across his features, quickly reced by a renewed focus on the locket. "No doubt about it. It''s the crest of the Slytherin House¡­ I see, There is powerful dark magic inside, and something is hidden in it. But¡­"

    His gaze, now sharp and probing, turned to Bryan, not concealing the shock and confusion that danced within.

    "Where on earth did you find this¡ª" Dumbledore paused, the words hanging in the air like the storm clouds outside, "Could it be, Lucius Malfoy again? You just told me you did him a favor."

    Bryan watched, a smug satisfaction curling the corners of his mouth. When Lucius came to him for help in finding the "Golden Viper" earlier, he generously gave him rubies worth ten thousand Galleons. And not long ago, Cornelius Fudge himself had assured him that the Ministry of Magic would not forget his contributions and efforts. Another generous reward was undoubtedly on its way.

    s! Years of ''hard'' work had finally paid off. Bryan could now stand tall, his head held high, and call himself a "sessful person" in every sense of the word. Those ''mere'' eight thousand Galleons were no longer worth his attention now!

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    The heavens roared in fury as the dense clouds above seemed to buckle under the weight of their own darkness. Lightning, fierce and unforgiving, tore across the sky, its brilliance a stark contrast to the gloom that enveloped the world. The thunder that followed was a rion call, a deration of the storm''s dominion over the earth. Rain cascaded down in torrents, a deluge that swept across thend with the ferocity of a waterfall, its relentless drumming punctuated by the asional snap of trees yielding to the tempest''s might.

    This sudden downpour disrupted the stillness that had settled over the world, yet it rendered the empty halls of Hogwarts Castle even more silent. The young wizards within its walls slumbered on, lost in dreams, as did the diligent staff. Only Bryan''s office, bathed in the warm glow of firelight, stood as a beacon against the night.

    "I destroyed the cave where Voldemort had this, and brought Regulus back with Sirius and others. Sirius thought his brother should have a decent funeral, but his situation obviously couldn''t make it happen, so he temporarily ced Regulus in the ck Manor. The fake Locket contains a note left by Regulus to Voldemort¡­

    <em>To the Dark Lord,</em>

    <em>I know I will be dead long before you read this, </em>

    <em>but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. </em>

    <em>I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. </em>

    <em>I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.</em>

    <em>-R.A.B.</em>"

    Bryan''s voice, calm and steady, faded into the symphony of rain and thunder that filled the office.

    Dumbledore remained silent, his expression one of profound shock, deeper than when he firstid eyes on the locket. It was evident that he was deeply moved.

    His eyes, wide and brimming with unshed tears, seemed to reflect a world of emotion. He drew in a heavy breath and let out a sigh, "What a noble soul, a true hero, worthy of respect¡­"

    Then, as if ignited by an unseen me, Dumbledore''s demeanor shifted. He stood up abruptly and excitedly walked around Bryan''s office, looking like a motivated warrior.

    "Look, Bryan," he eximed, his voice booming above the storm''s din, "The story of this Locket, the story of Regulus, they once again prove how ignorant and pitiful Voldemort is! He thought his power could make everyone submit, he thought the threat of fear and death could make everyone surrender. But in fact, those souls with love and courage will eventually shine. There will always be wise men who can see through that wizards like him are humble and powerless!"

    Bryan remained unmoved, even casting a disdainful nce at a crystal-clear lump on the sofa, left by Dumbledore''s recent nose-blowing.

    "We have taken another big step forward!" Dumbledore''s voice broke through the stillness, his tone brimming with an excitement that seemed to infuse the very air with electricity. "The diary, Ravenw''s diadem, Slytherin''s locket, and Hufflepuff''s cup¡ª we have destroyed two and obtained one. There is one left, and I at least know it is a Horcrux. How many more do we not know? How many times has Tom split his soul? Oh, I don''t think there are many more that we don''t know, right, Bryan? In theory, a soul can split countless times, but even I can''t guarantee that after splitting the soul ten times, there will still be aplete personality!"

    Bryan''s expression remainedposed, but a subtle twitch of his brow betrayed a flicker of unease. In terms of knowledge about souls, his reserves were far fromparable to Dumbledore''s. After all, Dumbledore seemed to have crossed some kind of boundary and could directly perceive souls.

    Since his return to Hogwarts, in the aura of Dumbledore¡ª the sense of threat he could bring as the greatest wizard of this generation has been decreasing in Bryan''s eyes. Particrly after undergoing the second arcane transformation on the mystical Isle of Avalon, the disparity in their magical prowess had narrowed significantly. However, this sense of threat has neverpletely disappeared.

    The strength of the soul¡ª This was the information inadvertently revealed in Dumbledore''s words.

    A memory surfaced in Bryan''s mind, unbidden: the ''Jellyfish World'' depicted in the ancient murals within the central temple on the Isle of Avalon. Theoretically, Merlin of his time, the revered founders of Hogwarts from a millennium past, and Dumbledore of the present era should stand as equals in power. Yet, as the sands of time shifted, their performances in terms of power are vastly different.

    "Let me see this Locket, Bryan," Dumbledore finally calmed down a bit. He walked over in big strides and took the Locket from Bryan''s hand, carefully examining it.

    "Have you tried to destroy it, Bryan?" he inquired, his gaze never leaving the locket.

    "Voldemort''s soul fragment is hidden inside the locket; I didn''t want to destroy the locket by destroying that soul fragment." Bryan calmly replied.

    "Ah, yes, of course," Dumbledore chuckled, his beard quivering with hisugh. "It is a relic of Szar Slytherin, after all. To those of his house, it has extraordinary significance."

    Dumbledore misunderstood the meaning, and Bryan shook his head, exining,

    "I don''t care about its historical value. but¡ªsee that rune-like symbol there, Headmaster? I seem to have seen the same on the diadem. I''ve consulted some texts, but still can''t decipher the meaning of the characters. I was nning to ask Professor Babbling, she''s an expert in this area¡ª"

    "Ah..."

    Dumbledore''s excessive focus on Horcruxes had cost him some of his observational skills and curiosity. The diadem had been in his possession for some time, yet he had never paid attention to those symbols.

    "Come to think of it, I seem to have overlooked something important¡ª"

    Dumbledore''s brow furrowed, and he squinted his eyes in contemtion,seemingly trying to recall.

    "Ancient runes can be divided into two categories. One is the writing used by ancient wizards for recording. Nowadays, the Wizarding world still retains most of these records in the Runic system. The other..."

    "Is more mysterious," Bryan continued, "Their appearance is only the most superficial feature of these runes; the real ones areposed of magical patterns from various dimensions, so these runes cannot be learned from books, only through hands-on teaching. Now, these runes are nearly lost. However, I''m not looking to master the magic these runes represent, Headmaster Dumbledore, I just want to understand their meaning. Perhaps, there''s an annotation in some book."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0303 The engravings

    0303 The engravings

    Dumbledore shifted his focus from the Horcrux to the shimmering locket, examining its exquisite craftsmanship in solemn silence. Bryan, too, remained silent, lost in thought.

    The appearance of Godric Gryffindor on the ind of Avalon and his cryptic parting words¡ª"In Szar''s Chamber of Secrets, all the answers to your questions lie"¡ªhad left Bryan pondering. The four founders of Hogwarts seemed to possess knowledge of events that would unfold a thousand yearster.

    But did they also know about Voldemort and his malevolent act of turning their respective House''s legendary magical relics into evil Horcruxes¡ªanchors for his fragmented soul?

    "Follow me, Bryan," Dumbledore''s suddenmand broke the silence. His tone was serious, hinting at the gravity of whaty ahead.

    "What have you discovered, Headmaster?" Bryan asked as he stood up, curiosity piqued. Dumbledore didn''t respond but hurriedly led him through winding corridors, eventually arriving at a separate tower¡ªthe location of the Headmaster''s office.

    In the corridor in front of the Headmaster''s office, the row of torches on both sides dispelled the darkness and cold, but could not drive away the ancient and mysterious atmosphere permeating the air.

    The gargoyle guarding the entrance moved aside when it saw Dumbledore, without waiting for him to utter the password.

    "Wait here, Bryan," Dumbledore said, leaving this sentence behind and hurriedly ascending the stairs along the wall. Upstairs was his bedroom, and he was going there to fetch something.

    "Hmm, am I being too harsh on myself?" Bryan wandered around the spacious Headmaster''s office, sometimes teasing Fawkes on the golden perch, sometimes turning to the bookshelf and skimming through Dumbledore''s collection of books.

    "Hey, Young one"

    Suddenly, a voice spoke quietly in the quiet Headmaster''s office, filled with suppressed excitement.

    Bryan turned his head towards the sound, his gaze wandering for a few moments before finally settling on a row of magical portraits on the wall.

    "What guidance do you have for me, Headmaster ck?" Bryan smiled slightly and nodded when he saw the name engraved below the frame.

    "Shut up, you fool!" snapped an old wizard in the adjacent portrait to the Sirius ck''s great-great-grandfather. "Didn''t you hear Dumbledore''smand? Don''t discuss your foolish grandson''s affairs until his honor is restored!"

    Armando Dippet, Dumbledore''s predecessor.

    Bryan raised an eyebrow, knowing little about this historical figure though, he knew about the famous female journalist from the Daily Prophet who wrote a book titled "Armando Dippet: Genius or Fool?" depicting the true nature of Armando Dippet.

    During those years in school, in order to improve his strength, he wished he could have forty-eight hours a day. and had no time for such "trivial books."

    "You''re just jealous," came the retort from Phineas Nigellus ck, whose portrait bore the same defiant pride that had characterized his lineage. A "war" of words would typically ensue following such an exchange, but today, Phineas was in high spirits, choosing to ignore Dippet''s customary disdain.

    "Don''t be shy, young one,e over here, let''s talk!" Phineas beckoned to Bryan with a smiling face.

    "What can I do for you, Headmaster ck?" Bryan smiled and asked politely, his hands behind his back.

    "Oh, what a modest and polite young fellow, truly befitting a great wizard graduated from Slytherin! I have to thank you, young one, for many years, I have been trying to convince certain fools around me that the noble ck lineage couldn''t produce a vile traitor, but some people have chosen to ignore the truth due to their terrible prejudice. But now, they have nothing to say!"

    Phineas rubbed his goatee, looking proud.

    "We all know about my upright great-great-grandson''s affair, and it''s all thanks to you, Bryan, I have decided that once Dumbledore and I grace the walls together, I shall advocate for you as the next Headmaster of Hogwarts, as a token of my appreciation."

    "Thank you for your generous proposition, Headmaster ck," Bryan replied with a chuckle, his tone light and amiable. "But rest assured, your grandson Sirius has alreadypensated me quite handsomely, so there''s no need for concern on your part."

    "Oh, he has already bestowed upon you a reward?" Phineas inquired, his painted eyebrows arching in surprise before his expression shifted to one of keen interest. "Pray tell, what did my useless great-great-grandson pledge to you?"

    "Well, he mortgaged the ck Manor to me," Bryan replied.

    "What!" Phineas erupted in outrage, his portrait''s visage contorting with fury. "That reckless prodigal dared to do such a thing without my consent!"

    "He has no obligation to seek permission from a portrait hanging on the wall to sell a house, you old fool!"

    Dippet, who had been frowning, immediately became happy when he saw Phineas bing anxious.

    Dumbledore appeared at the corner of the stairs. Bryan walked towards the desk, while Phineas anxiously patted the frame.

    "Wait, young one, we need to talk about the house!"

    "What are you discussing?"Dumbledore asked cheerfully, descending thest step with a box in hand.

    "Ah, Headmaster ck was helping me n how to be the next Headmaster of Hogwarts!" Bryan said with a smile. "He provided some very constructive suggestions."

    "It''s too early to discuss that now, Phineas," Dumbledore said, looking at ck''s portrait, raising his voice with a smiling face. "At least for the next two years, I haven''t thought about hanging myself on the wall."

    After a little joke, the two returned to the main topic.

    Dumbledore handed the box he had retrieved to Bryan and gestured for him to open it. As Bryan saw the contents of the box, his eyes widened in astonishment.

    "You repaired it?"

    Inside the box was the damaged Ravenw''s Diadem, destroyed by Bryan himself. But now, the crown was no longer broken into two pieces with ck burn marks, but restored to its smoothness. Under the candlelight, a magnificent sky-blue gem was embedded in the center of the crown, radiating a dazzling light.

    It''s not that Bryan himself didn''t try to repair the diadem, but Ravenw''s diadem is not a simple ornament, but a legendary magic artifact with magical effects. You cannot simply use "reparo" spell and The diadem would be restored.

    "Yes, it had to be done, after all, the diadem is a precious artifact bearing the history of Hogwarts. As the Headmaster, it is my duty to preserve it for the school," Dumbledore said calmly.

    Bryan shook his head slightly, not bothering with Dumbledore''s pretense of ignorance. He turned the crown over and stared at the mysterious runes engraved behind the raven.

    After a while, Bryan suddenly spoke, "Is it true, as the rumors say, that this diadem bestows incredible wisdom upon its wearer? Have you tried it, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    "Of course," Dumbledore replied with a childish smile. "But perhaps I am so stubbornly foolish that even Ravenw''s Diadem cannot bring me any significant improvement. You can try it, Bryan. Maybe it will give you some inspiration."

    Dumbledore''s teasing made Bryan roll his eyes, but he calmly asked, "So, why did you bring out this diadem?"

    "Just now, when you asked me about the runes on the Slytherin Locket, I suddenly realized something - how did Ravenw''s Diadem survive in your hands?"

    Dumbledore lowered his head and looked at the diadem in Bryan''s hand and said in a light voice,

    "You understand what I mean, Bryan. After Tom''s soul vanished, What kind of metal can withstand intense heat without melting and only break into two pieces? I can''t think of any metal that can do that unless there is magic protecting it that we cannot perceive."

    Without relying on magic, but solely on the material characteristics, Bryan''s mind shed through many magical metals in an instant, but couldn''t find one that could withstand intense heat. So, when his gaze fell on the crown again, Bryan''s eyes became even more focused.

    Just like how Dumbledore overlooked the runes because of the Horcruxes, Bryan also didn''t notice this detail.

    "Some kind of magic that we cannot perceive is protecting these things, even intense heat and Horcruxes cannot corrode them."

    Bryan murmured with lowered eyebrows.

    "So, What about the relics of Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor?"

    "Please wait a moment--"

    Dumbledore said, then quickly walked to the bookshelf under the portraits of the past headmasters. He started searching through the rows of books with gold-embossed spines. It didn''t take long for him to find what he was looking for. Then, he hurriedly went to the wall behind his desk and took down Gryffindor''s sword hanging on the wall.

    Bryan had seen this sword once before, In the Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets Harry had used it to fight a melee battle with the basilisk.

    Bryan also knew some information about this sword that would cause a huge uproar if revealed.

    The sword before him was not the original de of Godric Gryffindor. His original sword was actually in Bryan''s suitcase. The sword that Dumbledore now carefully removed from its mount was none other than Excalibur, the fabled de of King Arthur, a symbol of Camelot''s might and majesty.

    Bryan understood Dumbledore''s intention in taking it out. He lifted the heavy relic, and examined it, its silver surface gleaming as if lit by an inner fire, and his eyes were drawn to the runes etched into the hilt¡ª Runes¡ªsimr to those on the diadem and the locket!

    "This sword has always been in your possession, Headmaster Dumbledore. Haven''t you noticed it before?" Bryan asked, after examining the sword and feeling nothing out of the ordinary, he ced it back on the table and said to Dumbledore, who was still searching through the books.

    "I am aware of it, in fact--"

    Dumbledore gave an unexpected answer.

    "I noticed the true runes engraved on the sword''s hilt a long time ago. The Sword can be taken out from the Sorting Hat only by a true Gryffindor-- I thought that the ancient magic inscribed on it was this, oh, here it is."

    Dumbledore opened the book on the table and pointed to the image on the yellowed pages.

    "Compared to the crown that belonged to Rowena Ravenw and the unknown locket left by Szar Slytherin, it is not too difficult to find out who had possession of Helga Hufflepuff''s cup. It has been passed down in an orderly manner and has remained in the hands of Hufflepuff''s descendants for centuries, until it fell into Voldemort''s hands. Although we haven''t figured out the whereabouts of the cup yet, luckily, we can find some reliable information--"

    The book contained images of the cup from various angles. Most people would be drawn to the vivid badger on the front, but Bryan''s eyes were immediately drawn to the inconspicuous magical runes at the base of the cup.

    "I suspect that we may not find the annotations for these magical inscriptions in any rune book--"

    Dumbledore said to Bryan, who was lost in thought.

    "These magical inscriptions and runes are likely the magic created by the four founders of Hogwarts themselves and left on their respective artifacts."

    "A reasonable spection--"

    Bryan nodded slightly, his gaze shifting between the Locket, the diadem, Gryffindor''s sword, and the books.

    "What do you think--"

    After a while, Bryan raised his head, his eyes burning.

    "If we find Helga Hufflepuff''s cup and have all four items, what interesting things do you think will happen?"

    "There is no evidence or record to confirm this spection--"

    Dumbledore calmly said, his eyes showing a hint of curiosity as he looked at Bryan, who showed an interest beyond the normal range in these engraved runes, but in the end, he didn''t attempt to inquire further.

    <strong>Phew--</strong>

    After a long time, Bryan let out a heavy sigh.

    Since that Druid woman appeared hurriedly in front of him and then disappeared, the "normal" Wizarding world suddenly became eerie and mysterious. Many things were inadvertently connected to an unknown conspiracy, involving Merlin and Morgan Le Fay from centuries ago, and the rumored "Death" within Morgan''s body, as well as the four founding giants of Hogwarts.

    Each of these people had a renowned reputation in history and was not someone that the current Bryan could contend with, yet they had entangled him in their affairs.

    "Well, let''s leave it at that--" Bryan pushed these thoughts back into his mind and regained his focus.

    "Headmaster Dumbledore, what do you n to do with this soul fragment in the Locket? Destroy it or temporarily keep it?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0304 Hocruxes

    0304 Hocruxes

    "Well, let''s leave it at that--" Bryan pushed those thoughts back into his mind and regained his focus.

    "Headmaster Dumbledore, what do you n to do with this soul fragment in the Locket? Destroy it or temporarily keep it?"

    "In my opinion, there is no need to keep it."

    When it came to Horcruxes, Dumbledore''s tone became solemn again.

    "Alright--"

    Bryan shrugged his shoulders, the wand falling into his palm.

    "The soul fragment is hidden in the Locket, and it can only be destroyed along with the Locket. But after that, I''ll need you to repair it. I have a feeling that these things will y an important role someday in the future. Please step back, Headmaster Dumbledore, unless you wish to lose your beard as well."

    "Not just my beard, Bryan--" Dumbledore quickly waved his hand.

    "If possible, I also hope to preserve many items in this office that belong to Hogwarts rather than myself. Don''t worry, we can choose a gentler way--"

    The mention of a ''gentler way'' to deal with the Horcrux piqued Bryan''s interest, his mind racing with the possibilities. Horcruxes, the darkest of dark magics, demanded extreme measures for their destruction. The spells at Bryan''s disposal were potent, capable of annihting the Horcrux, but at the risk of devastating the surrounding environment. Fiendfyre, a spell of controlled chaos, seemed the most viable option, yet Dumbledore''s alternative intrigued him.

    Dumbledore went to the shelf where he used to hide wine and tapped on the innermost partition with his wand. Immediately, the dark wooden board twisted like liquid and quickly lost its color until it became as clear as water.

    Dumbledore reached in and searched for a while, then under Bryan''s gaze, he took out a box. He then quickly walked back to his desk, holding the box.

    "What is this--"

    When Dumbledore opened the box and exposed its contents to the air, a foul smell made Bryan squint his eyes.

    "Hehe, you recognize it--"

    Dumbledore''s silver-white beard fluttered as he controlled the venomous fangs floating in the box.

    "It is the venomous fang of the Basilisk that you subdued."

    "Fudge told me that the Ministry entrusted Mr. Scamander to take care of the Basilisk--" Bryan remarked, recalling the conversation.

    "Yes, Newt is a good friend of mine; it''s no secret," Dumbledore replied, his smile broadening. "I am not as skilled as you in controlling spells like Fiendfyre, but I must ensure that I can destroy the Horcruxes at any moment when found. So, I asked Newt to check the remnants in the Basilisk''s teeth and also see if this aged snake creature has any cavities."

    Bryan nodded. "He has a good reputation as a Magizoologist, and it seems that Mr. Scamander is indeed very good at dealing with magical creatures."

    "Newt is a wizard with a pure soul--"

    Dumbledore nodded.

    "A person with a pure soul is always more likely to gain the trust of those magical creatures. To be honest, I am quite grateful to Szar Slytherin. If it weren''t for him leaving behind this Basilisk, it would have been very difficult to find a safe way to destroy Tom''s Horcrux--"

    Bryan blinked his eyes and his thoughts wandered for a moment.

    Szar Slytherin left the Basilisk behind and identally provided significant help in destroying the Horcruxes created by his own bloodline after a thousand years. Was this a coincidence, or was there another possibility?

    Slytherin was the one among the four founders who valued Blood purity and heritage the most. If he had truly glimpsed certain truths from a thousand years in the future, then he would certainly not stand idly by. The door in Slytherin''s secret chamber was evidence of that.

    At the same time, Slytherin would not tolerate anyone tarnishing the honor of his family, and Tom Marvolo Riddle''s actions in the wizarding world would certainly not earn the approval of his great ancestor.

    "Now, we face another problem--"

    The items on Dumbledore''s desk disappeared, leaving only the pendant that had not been destroyed. Bryan, who had already destroyed two Horcruxes himself, felt nothing special about what was about to happen. He calmly said,

    "If we want to use the Basilisk''s fang, we may have to open the Locket. The fang cannot prate the defensive dark magic of the Horcrux itself--"

    "Indeed, fortunately, I have made some preparations regarding this--" Dumbledore calmly replied, "I have taught Tom, I know his way of doing things. When I first met him, he showed me his unusual talent--Parseltongue inherited from Szar Slytherin. I believe he would not miss any opportunity to prove his extraordinary talent derived from his bloodline."

    Bryan did not speak, he just watched Dumbledore show off.

    At some point, the atmosphere in the office became tense. The air grew thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as if charged with an unseen current. The portraits of former headmasters, suspended in time, collectively held their breath, their gazes fixated eagerly on the Locket resting upon the table.

    An ancient headmaster, hailing from an era long forgotten, retrieved a pair of antiquated spectacles from his robes, polishing them fervently before perching them upon his nose. Under different circumstances, these venerable figures might have leaped from their frames to bear witness.

    "So--"

    Dumbledore, acknowledging the gravity of the moment, nodded solemnly at Bryan and extended his right hand.

    With a crisp snap of his fingers, an old hissing voice appeared in the office. Then, with a click, under the gaze of everyone, the Locket popped open!

    <strong>Phew!</strong>

    A gust of evil wind suddenly swept through the closed room, and the bright candlesticks hanging from the ceiling dimmed instantly.

    It was as if the River Styx had invaded the mortal world!

    At the moment the box lid popped open, a thick and bottomless darkness surged out of the box like a flood breaking through a dam. Those tangible, wing dark magic upied the dome of the office, disying their corruption and evil in the air!

    In the void, there were tearing and seductive low growls. In the boiling mist, a ferocious face gradually took shape and looked down upon the world like a dark king.

    Dumbledore and Bryan stood side by side, their actions surprisingly synchronized--their hands crossed and ced on their abdomen, their heads raised, their faces solemnly staring at the soul fragment in the air. Their pairs of different-colored pupils flickered with strange light.

    "I see your heart."

    The cruel voice sounded like the wailing of thousands of souls gathered together after being tortured and tormented, and its gaze met Dumbledore''s unfathomable eyes in the air. Then, that face with its cruel smile froze.

    "Is that so, Tom?" Dumbledore smiled and said, "I always thought no one could understand me--"

    As Dumbledore''s words fell, his blue eyes suddenly became sharp. In a trance, his suddenly heightened figure seemed like a golden moon rising from the junction of the sea and the sky, emitting an imposing aura that forced the soul fragment, which had little sense left, to instinctively avert its gaze.

    "I see all your desires."

    Invisibly, A force seemed to interfere with the stability of Voldemort''s soul fragment. The ferocious face formed by the ck cloud trembled violently, and it urgently absorbed the darkness of human nature to strengthen itself. Then, it turned its evil gaze towards Bryan and whispered.

    "A weakling dominated by the fear of death--" Bryan sneered, "How dare you presume to know of my heart''s desires?"

    In the next moment, Bryan''s eyes shone brightly, and a powerful magic, not inferior to Dumbledore''s, burst forth from his frail body. The world shifted, and Dumbledore, Bryan, and the escaping soul fragment in the Locket all appeared in an illusory space!

    This space was boundless, simr to the high-dimensional space where wizards briefly stayed during apparition. Chaotic spatial turbulence filled the surroundings, and Bryan and Dumbledore stood on opposite sides, one with a cold expression and the other with a solemn expression.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    Just as Voldemort''s soul fragment became anxious and uneasy, Dumbledore and Bryan''s aura surged at the same time. The golden and purple colors, like mes, manifested as magical power bursting out of their bodies. In the void, they formed a sky-covering, firmly imprisoning the raging soul fragment in a closed space.

    The surrounding space currents, ebbing and flowing like the sea, seemed to encounter three massive celestial bodies, striking the magical that imprisoned the Horcrux with even more chaotic trajectories. The soul fragment, trapped within the spherical, thrashed in every direction, distorting the with each furious attempt to break free, but it could never escape.

    Under the magical oppression of Dumbledore and Bryan, two powerful wizards, the soul fragment of Voldemort, relying on the special properties of the Horcrux, never dissipated.

    "Bryan--"

    Dumbledore''s aged voice precisely reached Bryan''s ears amidst the chaos. Signaled by Dumbledore, Bryan nodded slightly and raised his right hand toward the empty space beyond the turbulent currents. A miniature tornado, carrying the serpent''s fang, suddenly appeared.

    Sensing the arrival of something that could destroy it, the imprisoned soul fragment descended into madness. Therge face abruptly disintegrated into hundreds of ck streams, like shooting stars, frantically striking the purple-golden magical from all directions.

    Bryan squinted his eyes, and the erratic trajectories of the ck flowing clouds were clearly reflected in his eyes. After a brief analysis, he locked onto one of them.

    With a flick of his index finger, the Basilisk fang trembled and emitted a deep buzzing sound. Then, apanied by an earth-shattering brightness, it collided with the ck flowing cloud like aet hitting the earth!

    <strong>Ding!</strong>

    In an instant, a crisp and pleasant sound echoed through the illusory space. Following that, a light that seemed to create the world rolled in, melting everything in the field of vision and erasing the unwillingness and fear of the soul fragment''s furious roar!

    <strong>...</strong>

    Bryan had already left. Before leaving, he requested to take Ravenw''s diadem and Slytherin''s pendant that he had found. After a brief thought, Dumbledore agreed to Bryan''s request, with one condition--not to sell these two items for money.

    "Albus--"

    The headmaster''s office, shrouded in an inexplicable atmosphere, fell silent for a long time. Finally, Armando Dippet, the Ex-headmaster of Hogwarts, spoke. He gazed at Dumbledore, who sat in his chair, removed his sses, and gently rubbed his eyebrows, asking solemnly,

    "You have made up your mind to change your original n, haven''t you? I mean, to let Bryan Watson--" Dippet''s query hung in the air, a question of profound implications.

    "For a long time, I have been searching for a safe way to deal with Tom''s problem."

    Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, looked up at the ceiling, and said expressionlessly,

    "We all know that maybe I can overpower Tom in a duel, but that won''t solve the problem. The Horcruxes are just one part of it. As long as I am alive, Tom will not let his guard down. He will continue to hide in the shadows and use his expertise in conspiracy to plunge the wizarding world into longsting chaos. Plus, there''s the connection between Harry and Tom''s soul. In short, I am growing weaker day by day, and time is on Tom''s side."

    "But Bryan Watson--" Headmaster Dippet spoke bluntly, "I don''t deny that this young man is powerful, Albus. Given time, he may truly reach the heights you once did. But you know very well that if we let him take over, the Wizarding world, our world will be plunged into a war as fierce and as devastating as any we have ever known."

    A heavy silence descended once more, a shroud that seemed to weigh upon the very air they breathed.

    After a long pause, Dumbledore sighed inexplicably.

    "It''s inevitable."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0305 The Visit

    0305 The Visit

    Early in the morning at eight o''clock.

    At this time in the past, it was the peak period for the students and staff of the school to have meals in the great hall. However, the intense and exciting Quidditch match yesterday kept most of the students from sleeping, especially Gryffindors. They celebrated all night crazily as their house retained the chance in the title race for House-Cup.

    The staff members were also exhausted from the events that happenedtest night. So, on this rainy morning, even the most diligent professors were catching up on sleep in their quarters.

    Madam Pomfrey, who had been busy all night, was also resting in her room. Harry, who couldn''t sleep, sneaked into Ron''s ward early in the morning. After seeing Ron''s face looking rtively good, the two boys knocked on Hermione''s door.

    Hermione''s face didn''t look much good. She leaned against her pillow, her usually bushy hair even more disheveled than usual, and her eyes filled with bloodshot veins, as if she hadn''t slept all night.

    "You''re absolutely unreasonable!"

    Ron eximed, his cheeks puffing out in surprise as he saw therge book spread open on Hermione''sp, despite the bandages wrapped around his head.

    "After everything that''s happened, you still have the heart to read?!"

    After midnightst night, everyone who participated in the duel with the werewolf was notified. Peter had been captured and Sirius was now under the custody of the Ministry of Magic. Until the trial of the Wizengamot was over, everyone had to keep this matter confidential.

    But Ron, who hadn''t been part of the time-traveling adventure, was unaware of the details of Peter''s capture. As Harry rapidly exined the situation, Ron''s puffed cheeks deted, but his mouth hung open in astonishment.

    "I missed such an interesting thing. Oh, darn it, you should have woken me up. Time travel, my goodness, how many wizards can experience this in their lifetime?"

    "Interesting?" Harry forced a weak smile. "If you had seen Hagrid''s ''spider friends'' in the Forbidden Forest, Ron, I bet you wouldn''t say that. I''ll never let any spidere near me in my life."

    Now they all knew why Hermione didn''t lie in bed and rest after experiencing so many thingsst night, but instead ran to the library using Harry''s invisibility cloak.

    "I can''t imagine!"

    Hermione finally reacted holding her face in her hands.

    "If my mom and dad knew that I would face prosecution by the Ministry of Magic, or even be sent to wizard prison, how would they feel?"

    Her voice broke with a heavy sob.

    "I''ve looked up manyws. The Time-Turner is a strictly regted magical item by the Ministry of Magic. If I can''t provide a reasonable exnation for its damage, the Ministry will definitely not let me off easily."

    "But--" When Ron heard that Hermione might be imprisoned for fooling around with the magical hourss, he no longer regretted not experiencing the wonderful adventure in the second half. He said with wide eyes, "You did this because you were following Dumbledore''s orders, right? He--I mean, he definitely won''t just stand by!"

    "But the problem is--" Harry had obviously considered this question. He sighed and said, "Although we were acting on his hint, we can''t juste out and say it, can we? I mean, we''ve probably broken some seriousws, but how do you exin that to the Ministry? Among all the uses of the Time-Turner, capturing criminals is definitely not one of them."

    Ron furrowed his eyebrows, deep in thought.

    "Maybe... I can write a letter to my dad, you know, he has many acquaintances in the Ministry. Maybe he can give us some good advice. Of course, the premise is that this thing called the Time-Turner is not particrly valuable."

    While the three of them were worried about the damage to the Time-Turner, the conversation from the Hospital-Wing''s main hall suddenly made them stop talking.

    "Just a few minutes, I came to see how everyone is doing, Madam Pomfrey--"

    "Their condition is fine, Professor Watson," Madam Pomfrey''s irritated voice followed, "The only thing they need now is to be left undisturbed to rest properly, just like me!"

    "It''s Professor Watson!"

    Harry jumped up from Hermione''s bed and said excitedly,

    "Just like I saidst night, Hermione, Professor Watson is good at fixing things. If he can help you!"

    Professor Watson had managed to keep Ron''s broken wand working for a while, and he had restored Harry''s Nimbus 2000, which had been shattered by the Whomping Willow. Although it couldn''t fly anymore, it was still suitable for Quidditch beginners to get a feel for flying.

    "That''s a good idea." Ron nodded heavily. "It seems like there''s nothing he can''t do."

    Hermione couldn''t care less about her anxiety now. She quickly opened the covers and jumped off the bed, rushing to the door.

    In the hall, Professor Watson, who had been arguing with Madam Pomfrey, had anticipated themotion before the door opened. He turned around and gave Hermione, who was panting, a warm smile.

    "You don''t look well. Did you have a nightmare?"

    To be honest, Harry had a bit of resentment towards Professor Watson because he had known the truth about his parents''s death before Christmas, but he didn''t reveal a word to him. However, he quickly forgot Dumbledore''s instructions and spilled the beans about everything that had happened in the Forbidden Forest.

    Bryan listened quietly to those thrilling experiences until he finished, then he smiled affirmatively at Harry.

    "You did a great job, all three of you. Especially you, Harry. Your parents would be proud of you. You and Hermione caught that traitor Peter, avenging your parents personally."

    Harry grinned, but then his expression turned anxious again,

    "Professor, Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf and got lost in the Forbidden Forest in the end... Dumbledore told us he would be fine, but... he''s missing!"

    "Oh, about that--"

    Seeing that these three children were in a stable state, Professor Watson straightened his robe and stood up from the chair.

    "Don''t worry, Professor Lupin is currently receiving treatment at St. Mungo''s, and His condition is stable. The only problem is that he probably won''t be able to teach your Defense Against the Dark Arts ss anymore. But, it''s actually a good thing for him. If he had to finish the second half of the year, I can''t guarantee that he would survive... I mean, that nothing more serious would happen to him."

    Seeing that Professor Watson was about to leave, Harry didn''t say anything leaving the time for Hermione to speak.

    "Professor--"

    Hermione listened carefully for any noise at the door, ensuring no one would barge in unexpectedly. She then turned back, fiddling with the now-dull Time-Turner under her pillow, and with a bitten lip, she handed it to Professor Watson.

    "Professor, this time-turner... I don''t know why, but it suddenly cracked and lost its function afterst night--"

    Hermione said, her shoulders trembling, "I''m afraid I''ve gotten myself into big trouble. The Ministry has strict control over Time-Turners, and they will definitely investigate thoroughly to find out what I''ve done with it."

    As Bryan took the Time-Turner from Hermione''s hand and examined it, Harry couldn''t help but interject. "Can you repair it, Professor Watson?"

    "I will find a way to solve this problem--"

    Professor Watson gave a strange answer. He didn''t tell them whether he had the ability to repair the time-turner or not, he just said he could solve the problem. And then, he took the damaged time-turner with him.

    However, with Professor Watson''s assurance, the three of them breathed a sigh of relief, as if they weren''t worried at all that Bryan wouldn''t be able to fulfill his promise.

    "Speaking of which, Professor Lupin is actually a werewolf--"

    Ron shivered and took a deep breath.

    "That''s terrifying. Dumbledore always does unexpected things."

    "He''s safe, Ron--" Harry retorted, "Since all the professors know about Professor Lupin''s condition, it proves that he is harmless. He''s like Sirius, a friend of my parents. He never intended to harm us."

    "I know--" Ron muttered, "But you''ve seen what a werewolf looks like when it goes mad. Honestly, I think Professor Watson is right. It''s a good thing for everyone that he''s leaving."

    <strong>¡­</strong>

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    <strong>¡­</strong>

    With a creak and groan of the strained door hinges, Bryan pushed open another ward''s door.

    In the dimly lit room by the window, Snape leaned against the headboard, gazing out at the world blurred by the heavy rain. At the sound of the door, he turned his head to look.

    Facing those deep, still eyes, like dark pools without a ripple, Bryan sighed inwardly.

    The door closed, and Bryan walked to the bedside. Snape had already averted his gaze, silent and slightly forlorn, continuing to watch the rain.

    Perhaps due to the humidity, the atmosphere in the room felt oppressively heavy.

    Bryan didn''t rush to break the silence of the ward; instead, he quietly apanied the man whose heart had frozen, watching the rain.

    Maybe the world''s sins were too dense, for the cleansing rain showed no sign of weakening. The monotonous sound of the downpour was far from healing; instead, it brought a weariness that seemed to say all was at an end.

    "Last time Lucius visited you at Hogwarts, and afterwards, when I brought Draco to your office, that''s when you realized Draco was under control, right?" Snape asked without turning, his voice devoid of doubt.

    "Indeed," Bryan nodded slightly. "Afterwards, I followed Draco and discovered Peter Pettigrew hiding in the Owlery. That man was plotting to lure out Sirius and attempt to kill him."

    Snape looked over at Bryan but remained silent. After a moment of contemtion, Bryan decided to tell the truth about his n.

    "Upon discovering Peter, I considered taking control of him immediately, discussing with Dumbledore, and then handing him over to the Ministry of Magic. This would clear Sirius''s name and ensure that the murderer of James Potter and Lily Evans received the punishment he deserved."

    A wave of immense pain struck Snape''s heart, making it impossible to maintain the coldposure on his face.

    Bryan sighed softly, looking at Snape, who was clenching his teeth to keep from making a sound, his eyebrows twisted in agony, "But then, another thought crossed my mind. Peter''s betrayal led to the Potters'' deaths, Sirius was wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years, Remus lost all his dear friends, his spirit and body wandering ever since, Harry lost his parents and had to live with his aunt and uncle who hated him, and you, Professor¡­"

    Snape immediately locked eyes with Bryan, desperately trying his best to conceal his astonishment. But at a time like this, his lumency was full of loopholes.

    "I am not a fool, Professor Snape," Bryan leaned back in his chair, calmly meeting Snape''s gaze. However, he didn''t continue to speak clearly.

    "The events of that year caused irreparable harm to many people. While personally uncovering the truth, one also needs an opportunity to vent suppressed emotions. So, I created certain conditions to allow the parties involved to participate, ensuring their safety."

    "Then you should have let me kill that bastard!" Snape''s suppressed roar escaped his lips, his waxen face twisted with deep-seated hatred.

    Since knowing Professor Snape, this was only the second time Bryan had seen him lose control of his emotions in his presence, the first time being the night before he left Hogwartsst year.

    Snape''s love for Harry''s mother had be a life creed. Perhaps if Lily Evans were still alive, he might have had a chance to emerge from the shadow cast by this love. But Unfortunately, Lily Evans died in the Godric''s Hollow twelve years ago, and with her death, Professor Snape''s hope for spiritual liberation was also buried.

    Allowing Peter to die at the hands of Snape, Harry, or Sirius would be meaningless. It wouldn''t bring relief but would plunge them into greater pain. Therefore, Bryan didn''t expose Peter to themst night.

    <em>''Fuuuu''</em>

    After a heavy sigh, there was a long silence.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0306 Frenzy

    0306 Frenzy

    Severus Snape reclined listlessly against the plump pillow, a solitary tear of utter despair and heartache rolling down his sallow, pallid cheek, his lifeless obsidian eyes reflecting the unfathomable depths of his heartache and sorrow.

    Bryan, however, offered no constion or words offort. After a soft, mournful sigh escaped his lips, he stared out through the narrow window, his gaze fixed upon the faint, ethereal light that barely prated the gloomy, leaden sky, lost in pensive thought.

    <em>''Is there a way for Professor Snape to step out of the shadows that envelope his heart?''</em>

    Bryan had been pondering this question for some time but couldn''t find a solution. He even considered using a Time-Turner to take Snape back twelve years, allowing him to bid a proper farewell to Lily Evans. But upon further reflection, he realized how foolish that method was.

    What good would it truly do for Snape after he sees Lily again?

    She was a woman deeply, irretrievably in love with her family ¨C her devoted husband, James Potter, and their cherished son, Harry. She could offer Snape nothing but further torment and anguish, for her heart belonged to another.

    The crux of the matter was that Professor Snape, still consumed by his eternal love for Lily, would not willingly let her walk to her tragic death after witnessing her vibrant existence once more. He would undoubtedly do everything in his power to save her life, and the consequences of such actions were wholly unpredictable, potentially sending the entire timeline spiraling into an unfathomable abyss of chaos and uncertainty.

    At that moment, Bryan suddenly felt a pang of regret that he had traveled to this magical world, this realm of sorcery and wonder. If he had instead journeyed to a more powerful Western Fantasy realm, or perhaps a world popted by Immortals and Gods, he might have been able to debate with Professor Snape about the concepts of reincarnation and rebirth, offering him sce in the notion that Lily''s soul might one day be reborn anew.

    <em>''Reincarnation...''</em> Bryan''s brow furrowed ever so slightly as the notion took root in his mind.

    Death, it seemed, was not truly the end of everything in this magical world. For centuries untold, countless wizards and witches had tirelessly studied the enigma of death in their relentless quest for immortality. In this realm, the closest thing to death that existed were ghosts ¨C insubstantial shades of those who had once lived, bound to the mortal ne by their own lingering attachments and regrets.

    ording to the self-narratives of these spectral beings, after their original souls departed their physical bodies, they traveled through a path filled with warm, weing light towards the enigmatic world of death. However, no ghost could clearly exin what that mysterious realm was truly like, for they were all individuals who were too attached to the reality they had known, and had never truly reached the other side.

    The world of death... Bryan''s thoughts turned to the enigmatic "Jellyfish World" depicted on the nine ancient stone tablets enshrined within the central temple of the legendary isle of Avalon.

    "Perhaps one day..." Bryan took a deep, steadying breath and stood, his posture resolute. "You might meet Lily Evans in another world, Professor. However, by then, she might be apletely different person, unrecognizable from the woman you once knew and loved."

    "You..." Snape''s suppressed sob came to an abrupt halt, and he stared at Bryan in utter disbelief, as if he couldn''t believe what he had heard. "rify your words, Bryan. Seeing Lily again as apletely different person? Are you mocking me?"

    Bryan reached out, patting Snape''s shoulder in a gesture of reassurance, and offered a gentle smile as he stood upright. "If you truly cannot forget Lily Evans, Professor, then keep this love alive in your heart and live on. Perhaps there really is a day when you will be reunited with her, though the circumstances may be vastly different from what you envision."

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    On Sunday morning, the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were cloaked in an almost eerie calm and silence. Apart from the roommates of Harry, Ron, and Hermione, none of the other students even seemed to notice that the trio had been missing throughout the entirety of the previous night.

    In the cavernous Slytherinmon room, bedecked in the house colors of emerald and silver, Pansy Parkinson paced anxiously, her brow furrowed with concern as she tried in vain to ascertain the whereabouts of her beloved Draco Malfoy, along with his ever-present cronies, the burly Crabbe and Goyle. She was gripped by a nagging fear that Draco had secretly dropped out of school, as he had mentioned on more than one asion that his father, was seriously considering sending him to a prestigious magical school in Germany that was seemingly even better than Hogwarts. Her concern continued until she found Snape returning from the hospital wing, despite Madam Pomfrey''s objections.

    To Pansy''s horror, she learned that Draco and his two followers had been viciously attacked by a werewolf, sustaining serious injuries that had necessitated their transfer to St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries for urgent treatment.

    Two hours after a dazed and distraught Pansy Parkinson had departed from Snape''s office, a truly shocking and jaw-dropping piece of news began to spread like wildfire throughout the hallowed halls of Hogwarts!

    Simultaneously, the young wizards and witches also learned that it had been Harry and his friends who had first noticed that something was amiss and uncovered the crucial clues. Along with Professor Snape, Professor Lupin, and the gamekeeper Hagrid, they had bravely driven away the werewolves from the Forbidden Forest who had been attempting to approach the school grounds with clearly evil intentions.

    Rumors and spection ran rampant, and those seeking the unvarnished truth flocked to the hospital wing in droves, only to be angrily chased away by a broom-wielding Madam Pomfrey, her stern countenance brooking no nonsense or intrusion.

    By noon, even more astonishing news had arrived, sending shockwaves through the student poption.

    The source of thistest bombshell was the senior students who had ventured into the nearby wizarding vige of Hogsmeade for the weekend. This news, when it reached the ears of the younger wizards and witches, sent them into an absolute frenzy of excitement and disbelief!

    The notorious Werewolf Leader Fenrir Greyback and his vicious pack, who hadmitted countless unforgivable crimes within the borders of Magical Britain for many years, had been apprehended through thebined efforts of the Auror Office, led personally by Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge and the esteemed Head of the International Magical Cooperation Department, Barty Crouch Sr., along with the valuable cooperation of Bryan Watson, the Director of Hogwarts'' Student Safety Office. From that day forth, the residents of Magical Britain would no longer have to live in constant fear of this vile, bloodthirsty werewolf gang and their reign of terror!

    The hard-won peace that had reigned in Magical Britain for so long had been shattered, and there had not been such an explosive, earth-shattering development in many years. Within half a day of the werewolf incident being fully exposed to the public, the situation had quickly escted and be almost uncontroble in its intensity.

    After the midday meal, a veritable swarm of reporters from the Daily Prophet, Wizard Weekly, and many other well-known domestic and international wizarding publications descended en masse upon the gates of Hogwarts, determined to gain entry to the school in order to secure an exclusive interview with Bryan A. Watson. This young wizard, previously known only for unveiling the mystery of the legendary Chamber of Secrets and serving as the director of Hogwarts'' Student Safety Office, was now the center of intense scrutiny and public fascination.

    When Dumbledore himself stepped forward, citing Professor Watson''s allegedly ill health as a reason to politely but firmly decline the moring reporters'' requests for an interview, the frenzied media mob did not take no for an answer.

    Waves of insistent invitation letters beseeching Bryan for an appointment fluttered into his office window like a blizzard of enchanted snowkes, reminding him vividly of the time he had assisted the mboyant Gilderoy Lockhart in responding to his mountainous backlog of fan mail the previous year.

    And some of the more reckless and brazen reporters, utterly undeterred by the closed and ostensibly impassable gates of Hogwarts, even attempted the foolhardy maneuver of sneaking through the treacherous Forbidden Forest in order to infiltrate the school grounds. However, the forest''s myriad native inhabitants ¨C sentient trees, menacing acromants, wrathful centaurs and all manner of other magical beasts ¨C were decidedly not keen on having a disruptive horde of wizards trampling through their sanctuaries. Several of the hapless reporters met with grievous misfortune in their ill-conceived efforts, and had it not been for Dumbledore''s swift action in negotiating peace on behalf of Hagrid and the forest denizens, the consequences could have been truly severe.

    In the end, the helpless and thwarted reporters could only resign themselves to interviewing the residents of the nearby vige of Hogsmeade, desperately hoping to dig out some tantalizing morsels of valuable information from the vigers regarding the recent shocking events.

    Inside the hallowed castle walls, the third-floor corridor leading to Bryan''s office was nearly impassable, packed to overflowing with groups of excited young wizards and witches. They all knew that Professor Watson was not one who particrly emphasized his authority in private settings. The students fervently hoped to uncover some sensational new details or inside information, but unfortunately, Professor Watson''s office door remained firmly closed and tightly sealed, as if the room within were unupied.

    As the sun began to sink below the horizon that evening, a special edition of the Evening Prophet newspaper was freshly printed and released to meet the rabid demand for more news.

    Although those relentless and increasingly desperate reporters had failed to uncover any substantive information about the elimination of the werewolves themselves, they had managed to procure something of immense value ¨C a single photograph, for which one particrly tenacious journalist had paid the exorbitant sum of two hundred Galleons.

    The seller was a viger from Hogsmeade, an amateur astronomer and stargazer by hobby. On the fateful night in question, he had climbed to the highest vantage point nearby ¨C the very hilltop upon which the supposedly haunted Shrieking Shack stood ¨C armed with his telescope, ready to observe and chart the movement of thes. It was during these stargazing vigils that he had quickly noticed the disturbance andmotion unfolding at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

    His astronomical telescope, designed to urately track and record the precise paths of celestial bodies, had inadvertently also captured the astonishing events that were transpiring nearly two miles distant.

    A young wizard, emanating an aura of chilling presence and radiating sheer, unearthly power, hovered high above the forest canopy, raining down torrents of me hundreds of feet tall upon the earth below. Werewolves ¨C those vicious, inhuman creatures ¨C could be seen howling and struggling in futile desperation within the terrifying inferno, one after another falling lifeless to the ground amidst the searing onught ¨C a scene akin to divine retribution wrought by the hand of an avenging angel!

    When the newspaper bearing this stunning photographic evidence was delivered to Hogwarts by a majestic owlter that evening, the entire school erupted into pandemonium of excitement and awe.

    As night fell and the Great Hall was illuminated by the warm glow of thousands of levitating candles reflecting the clear, star-studded sky overhead, it filled to capacity with chattering young wizards and witches. When Bryan, who had been taking a momentary respite in his office, emerged onto the stairs adjacent to the entrance hall, the Great Hall, its vaulted ceiling a perfect mirror of the night sky beyond, fell into an expectant hush for a full half-minute. The gathered students watched with bated breath as Professor Watson strode purposefully into the Great Hall from the entrance hall, passing between the long tables representing the four Hogwarts houses before making his way up to the staff table where the professors were seated.

    Then, as if a dam had burst, the Great Hall erupted into thunderous cheers and apuse from the hundreds of students in attendance! Shouts of admiration and awe rang out from every corner of the cavernous room.

    "So cool, Professor!" bellowed the Weasley twins, red-haired mischief-makers from Gryffindor house, raising their hands high in a salute.

    "Can I learn that spell from you, Professor?" Cedric Diggory, from Hufflepuff, called out with undisguised admiration, waving a copy of the sensational Evening Prophet bearing the now-iconic photograph.

    Even the usually calm andposed witches of Ravenw house seemed to have temporarily misced their customary reserve, whispering together in conspiratorial tones, their heads bent close as they stole furtive nces at Bryan seated at the staff table, asionally dissolving into fits of girlish giggles.

    "Don''t forget!" Marcus Flint, the burly captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, shouted across the entire vast chamber in a booming voice. "Professor Watson belongs to Slytherin!"

    Marcus''s enthusiastic deration on Bryan''s behalf was greeted with a smattering of cheers and supportive whoops from the Slytherin table, though the response was noticeably more mutedpared to the other three houses, whose students paid little heed to Flint''s words of house loyalty.

    At the staff table, arrayed behind the lectern where Dumbledore typically presided, all of the Hogwarts professors raised their goblets in a respectful toast toward Bryan, their faces alight with pride and admiration.

    "I think it won''t be long before you''re more famous than that chatan Lockhart, Bryan," remarked Professor McGonagall, allowing the faintest hint of a smile to crease the corners of her thin lips.

    "I do hope you can learn to get ustomed to this level of attention and scrutiny," she continued wryly. "After all, it doesn''t quite align with your typically modest and low-profile demeanor, does it?"

    Although he had never before been the focal point of such widespread adtion and public fascination, Bryan did not appear in the least bit panicked or overwhelmed by the circumstances. He remained as outwardlyposed and self-assured as if the one being discussed was someone else entirely.

    "Hehe, I will certainly try to adapt," Bryan responded with an easy smile, seemingly taking the outpouring of adtion in stride.

    "Why, in fact, I have considered the possibility that a day like this might one day arrive, Bryan!" Professor Flitwick, the diminutive charms instructor, interjected excitedly, deliberately suppressing his naturally squeaky voice to avoid drawing undue attention, resulting in an oddly strained tone.

    "Ever since you confided in mest year about your previous conflict with the werewolves, I''ve harbored a suspicion that you would one day take decisive action against those vile creatures once more," Flitwick continued eagerly. "But I must admit, I did not anticipate you would do so in such a bold and upromising manner! Truly, your actions have been...prodigious, to say the least!"

    All the while, Dumbledore, who had thus far remained conspicuously absent from the staff table, quietly observed the conversation between Bryan and the other professors with a faint, contented smile ying about his lips.

    It had been a while since he appeared at the staff table, and he didn''t mind being overshadowed. He quietly listened to the conversation between Bryan and the others, happily dealing with the pork chop on his te. He seemed quite satisfied with Bryan''s calm performance at the moment.

    Inside the hallowed castle walls, the trio who knew the whole truth of what had transpired ¨C Harry, Ron, and Hermione¨C were being kept in the hospital wing under the ever-watchful eye of Madam Pomfrey for observation. While the rest of Hogwarts buzzed with excitement, the three friends were no doubt recovering from their harrowing ordeal.

    The Ministry of Magic itself, the very institution that should have been at the forefront, fielding interviews and rifying the facts, had thus far only issued a brief, sinct statement officially confirming the annihtion of the nefarious Fenrir Greyback and his roving pack of werewolves. Apart from this bare-bones acknowledgment, the Ministry had elected not to disclose any further details regarding the pivotal events or the heroes who made it possible.

    However, this shocking incident had already stirred up a growing maelstrom of fervent spection and intense public interest throughout the entire Wizarding world atrge. Whether it was in the wizarding vige of Hogsmeade that bordered the Hogwarts grounds, the bustlingmercial hub of Diagon Alley, or the sleepy Muggle-inhabited hamlets of St. Catchpole and Godric''s Hollow, witches and wizards from all walks of life could be seen engaged in heated discussions revolving around the recent eradication of Greyback''s werewolf pack and this astounding ¨C albeit still mysterious ¨C achievement on the part of the Ministry of Magic.

    So widespread and inescapable was the public fascination with the events that even the Muggle poption, blissfully ignorant of the magical world concealed all around them, had their interest piqued when their own morning news programs disclosed that the notorious "terrorist" gang leader Fenrir Greyback had been shot dead by police in a raid, though no further context was provided.

    For three full days following the climactic confrontation in the Forbidden Forest, neither Hogwarts itself nor the Ministry of Magic consented to grant any interviews or field any inquiries from the relentless media chorus regarding the subject. This strategic silence was, in fact, a carefully calcted tactic suggested by Bryan himself. He believed that public¡¯s curiosity required a brief period of time to fully "ferment" and build to a fever pitch before being addressed.

    Atst, as the crimson light of dawn began to creep across the horizon on Thursday morning, bathing the grounds of the ancient school in the warm, rosy glow of a new day still cloaked in the hazy half-light of twilight, there were signs that the dam was finally about to break.

    In the Student Safety Office situated on the third floor of the castle, Bryan, who had awoken early in anticipation of theing tumult, was carefully adjusting his attire and grooming himself in front of a hovering, mirror-like pane of rippling water. Considering the media frenzy he was about to willingly enter and the likelihood that his words and actions would be analyzed and scrutinized by countless observers, he had taken the rare step of meticulously attending to his appearance and presentation.

    "Professor Watson!" a booming voice called out, shattering the tranquil morning silence as Bryan descended the broad marble staircase leading out of the castle''s main entrance.

    He turned to see the massive, towering figure of Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts groundskeeper, standing beside the winding path that led away from the school toward the front gates. The half-giant was waving an enormous hand excitedly to catch Bryan''s attention, his wild mane of hair and beard seeming even more unkempt than usual in the pale dawn light.

    On the previous evening, the Ministry of Magic had officially dispatched an invitation to Hogwarts, inviting the students and staff members who had made outstanding contributions to the mission to eliminate Greyback and his pack to a specialmendation ceremony to be held at the Ministry headquarters. In addition to Remus Lupin, the former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor who was still recuperating in the intensive care unit at St. Mungo''s following his pivotal role, both Hagrid and Professor Snape had also been included on the guest list to receive formal recognition.Faced with the olive branch extended by the Ministry of Magic, Snape left with a cold face. For him, saving Sirius ck''s life was only a disgrace.

    Hagrid had also initially declined to participate, fearing that a half-giant in the spotlight might bring criticism to Dumbledore, but Bryan persuaded him with an irrefutable reason.

    As for Harry, Ron and Hermione, being underage wizards, their officially recognizedmendations for their crucial roles in the dramatic events would be issued directly by Hogwarts itself. The most likely oue, Bryan anticipated, would be an addition of fifty well-earned house points apiece to their respective houses, offset by a standard deduction of thirty points for the rtively minor transgression of having ventured out into the Forbidden Forest after curfew on the night they uncovered the first vital clues.

    The two figures - the young professor and the towering half-giant - made an odd pair as they strode side-by-side across the deserted grounds toward the front gates in the pale half-light of dawn. Hagrid, uncharacteristically fidgety and self-conscious, reached up to needlessly smooth his massive, wiry beard, his cheeks coloring beneath the thick hair.

    "How do I look, Professor?" the groundskeeper asked in a small, almost childlike voice, unable to mask the anxious tremor underlying his words.

    For this monumentally important asion, Hagrid had finally shed his customary tattered overcoat and moleskin breeches in favor of a gargantuan suit of finely-tailored dress robes that could have easily served as a mainsail on a galleon. Bryan could detect the faint, cloying aroma of some musky cologne or scented pomade that Hagrid had no doubt applied liberally in an attempt to mask the musty, animal-like odors that typically clung to his person and apparel.

    "Very nice, Hagrid," Bryan responded with an approving nod and a faint smile, carefully considering his words so as not to wound the sensitive half-giant''s feelings. Though he had known the groundskeeper for many years, this was truly the first time Bryan had ever seen Hagrid turned out in such uncharacteristically formal attire.

    "I''d wager you''ll cut quite the dashing, photogenic figure in those robes," he added with an encouraging tone, knowing that an appearance before the press and dignitaries at the Ministry was far outside Hagrid''s usualfort zone. "They suit you very well."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    <strong>Edit: Iam trying to add more details and background descriptions and stuff like that.</strong>

    <strong>Iam learning this way of writing how is this chapter as I''ve expanded it significantly as i added many things.</strong>

    <strong>Did it got boring or anything in between?</strong>

    <strong>Please Comment your views.</strong>

 0307 Ministry of Magic

    0307 Ministry of Magic

    "Ugh!"

    A slight explosion pushed aside the floating dust in the air. It was 6 o''clock in the morning, and the bustling city center was at the boundary between day and night. The energetic young people had finished their exciting nightlife and were heading home to rest, while the middle-aged people who were busy with their lives had just left their warm andfortable beds, busy tidying up their appearances.

    "It seems we''re in luck, Hagrid. We didn''t run into those crazy reporters--"

    Bryan''s gaze drifted from the imposing office buildings on both sides to the deste street lined with long-shutteredpanies and dpidated taverns, finally resting on Hagrid, who had copsed on the ground, vomiting.

    "What''s the matter, Hagrid, not used to apparating?"

    Bryan raised an eyebrow in surprise.

    "Sorry, Professor--"

    Hagrid wiped the snot and tears off his face and weakly said, "The longest mode of transportation I''ve used is the train or on my own foot. Apparition, to be honest, thest time I experienced this was when I was expelled from Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore took me to the Ministry of Magic for a trial."

    Bryan couldn''t help butugh. He took out his wand and helped Hagrid clean the vomit off his clothes, also covering up the smell on him.

    "Now, what''s next--"

    Bryan looked around with a puzzled expression, searching his memory for details about the Ministry of Magic. To be honest, he hadn''t been to the Ministry in two years.

    Thest time he visited here was right after graduation. It was his first time entering Diagon Alley''s underground world. Due to a mission that required traveling abroad, he had been quite the rule-follower,ing here specifically to process his wizarding travel documents.

    "This way, Professor--"

    Hagrid, who often ran errands for Dumbledore all over the country, clearly had more experience. He led Bryan to a dpidated red telephone booth--the paint on it was peeling off inrge patches, most of the ss on three sides was broken, and the only receiver inside was hanging in mid-air, as if someone had tried to tear it off.

    "Same as always--"

    Bryan made a pained expression.

    "Why doesn''t anyone think about fixing it?"

    "Maybe because there are wizards like me around,"

    Hagrid chuckled sheepishly, "Let me tell you a secret, Professor Watson, some of those ss shards on the ground are my doing¡ª"

    A very powerful reason indeed.

    Bryan thought the telephone booth wouldn''t be able to amodate both him and Hagrid, but to his surprise, the walls of the booth squeezed their bodies, but they still managed to squeeze in.

    "Um, excuse me, Hagrid, raise your hand and make some space for me to dial--"

    Bryan''s face was squished against the inner metal, mumbling.

    "Oh, sorry, Professor!"

    Hagrid''s body shook, and the telephone booth immediately made a creaking sound. A half piece of broken ss embedded in the window frame fell outside with a snap.

    "I hope the Ministry of Magic won''t make me pay for that. Let me think, 62442?"

    A cold woman''s voice emerged in the telephone booth.

    "Wee to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and the purpose of your visit."

    Bryan struggled to move his face away from the cold metal te.

    "Um, Bryan A. Watson, and Rubeus Hagrid, invited to attend a press conference and award ceremony."

    "Thank you--" The woman''s cold voice sounded again. "Guests, please pick up your badges and pin them to the front of your clothes."

    Two square silver badges slid out from the metal slot. After some effort, Bryan and Hagrid sessfully attached the badges to their clothes.

    Wizards seem to have a penchant for cing important institutions underground, whether it''s the Ministry, goblin banks, or the underworld¡ªall buried deep beneath the earth. The key is, the methods of entry are equally terrible.

    One minuteter, they stood in a long, magnificent hall. The floor was polished to a shiny, reflective wooden surface, and the peacock blue ceiling was embedded with sparkling golden symbols that were constantly moving and changing, like a huge bulletin board in the sky.

    The walls on all sides were lined with shiny ck marble, and many gilded fireces were embedded in the wood. The official employees of the Ministry of Magic mostly used these fireces tomute to and from work or to travel around the country and abroad.

    The press conference was scheduled for 10 o''clock in the morning, and the normal working hours of the Ministry of Magic started at 8 o''clock. At this time, the Ministry''s grand hall was empty, with few people in sight, except for someone dozing off at a table next to the famous Fountain of Magical Brethren.

    "Huff--"

    Upon entering the magnificent underground hall of the Ministry, Hagrid visibly tensed up, even though he knew he was there to receivemendation, not for a trial.

    "No need to worry, Hagrid¡ª" Bryan reassured him with a smile, "Your request is simple, Fudge will help."

    Hagrid swallowed nervously and nodded, following Bryan forward.

    As the two approached the Fountain of Magical Brethren, the young wizard guarding the entrance, who had a sign saying "Security Check" on his head, was more alert than expected. Originally, Bryan didn''t n to disturb him, but Hagrid''s heavy footsteps woke him up.

    "Hey, wait¡ª" Eric, mentioned by Fudge as the gatekeeper, struggled to open his sleepy eyes, standing up unsteadily, "Don''t forget to follow the rules, gentlemen¡ª"

    Eric yawned as he spoke to Bryan.

    "Oh, sorry, I just didn''t want to disturb your rest."

    Bryan smiled and stepped back.

    "Oh, it''s you, Hagrid, no need to bother, I remember you don''t have a wand."

    Despite the blurry figures before him, the towering presence immediately made Eric recognize the visitor. He reached out, taking the wand Bryan offered.

    He dropped the wand onto a brass bnce, and the machine started to vibrate slightly. As they waited, Eric yawned again, mutteringints about <em>''always being put on the night shift.''</em>

    "Oh, let me see--"

    Eric rubbed his eyes and struggled to identify the wand.

    "ckthorn, twelve inches long, with a dragon heartstring core. Hmm, it has been used for twelve years."

    Eric mumbled lethargically, pinning the parchment with the test results onto a brass spike, slowly handing back the wand. When his gaze followed his hand to Bryan''s face, adorned with a warm smile, Eric Munch shuddered, his sleepy eyes suddenly wide with disbelief.

    "My goodness!" Eric eximed, rubbing his eyes again, "Bryan, is that really you?"

    "Yes, it''s been a while, Munch. How have you beentely--"

    Bryan''s smile deepened, and he nodded in greeting.

    "What''s going on? Do you two know each other?"

    Hagrid asked, puzzled, stroking his beard.

    "Of course, I know Bryan, Hagrid, don''t you remember? I was in the same year as Bill!"

    Eric''s voice trembled with suppressed excitement,

    "You''re the one who took down nearly a hundred werewolves, including Greyback alone, right? That''s what they say at the Ministry. Merlin''s Beard¡­ that''s really amazing. Among our graduates that year, you''re the only one who''s be such a big shot!"

    Eric Munch indeed was in the same year as Bryan, but one was in Gryffindor and the other in Slytherin. The two didn''t have much interaction in school, but the two houses often took Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts sses together, which made them familiar faces to each other.

    "Defeating Greyback''s werewolf pack wasn''t my doing alone; the Ministry yed a significant role."

    Bryan smiled modestly.

    "By the way, among our year, not many of us ended up working at the Ministry. Bill was actually invited, but unfortunately, he declined."

    Eric nodded with a smile. It seemed that he didn''t care at all about what Bryan was saying, but just being able to talk to him was a great honor.

    "Last year, there was a reunion for Gryffindor graduates. Henry and Grace attended too. When I told them; I heard from the Ministry that you were the one who overturned the rumored Slytherin''s Chamber of Secret and subdued the Basilisk, they were still shaking in their boots. Oh, Haha, it seems you really scared them good back then!"

    Eric spoke enthusiastically about the past, and the two who had angered Bryan so much back then, upon hearing these name yearster, only brought a knowing smile to his face.

    Bryan could tell that Eric had not been having a good time at the Ministry of Magic in recent years. Otherwise, he wouldn''t have caught a not-so-familiar ssmate and talked non-stop for ten minutes. It made sense, considering that Eric''s job was just as boring as the Centaur Office.

    As Eric was quietly speaking to Bryan; he overheard from Bertha that Barty Crouch, from the International Magical Cooperation Department, had been prone to fits of rage over trivial matterstely. Just then, a stern female voice echoed from the elevator hall behind the golden door.

    "I''m sorry to interrupt your reunion¡ª"

    At the sound, Eric shuddered violently and immediately fell silent.

    Amelia Bones, dressed in a solemn emerald wizard robe, walked out of the elevator hall. Her gaze paused on Eric for a moment before moving away, revealing a slightly tired smile on her face. She said to Bryan,

    "Cornelius said your reply stated that you would arrive at the Ministry of Magic before seven, so I came to show you the way--"

    It was a great honor for Amelia Bones, who was renowned throughout the European wizarding world, to personallye and greet them. Eric immediately looked at Bryan with envy.

    "Thank you, I''m indeed unfamiliar with this ce¡ª"

    Bryan smiled in acknowledgment and then nodded to Eric,

    "We''ll talkter."

    "Cornelius is waiting for you in his office. Before the official press conference begins, we need to have a brief meeting,"

    Madam Bones said concisely.

    This was not a good ce for chatting, and Bryan didn''t say much either, just nodded.

    With a series of ding-ding-dong-dong and ttering sounds, an elevator emerged from the dark elevator shaft. The iron gate opened, and the three of them entered the elevator car one after another. The gate mmed shut, and the car slowly ascended with the sound of chains nking. Before long, the indifferent cold voice of the woman from the telephone booth earlier rang out again.

    <strong>"Fourth floor, Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures - Beast, Being, and Spirit Division, Goblin Liaison Office, Pest Advisory Bureau, Centaur Office, House-Elf Relocation Office, and the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."</strong>

    The elevator car stopped on the fourth floor. Outside the protective gate, a tall and stern middle-aged wizard was holding a piece of parchment and waiting for the elevator. When he saw Hagrid taking up half of the car, he hesitated and chose not to open the gate.

    "Come in, Norus, there''s room for you--"

    Madam Bones beckoned the tall wizard outside.

    The wizard named Norus hesitated for a moment, then nodded at Amelia Bones and opened the door to enter the car. His presence immediately made the car crowded, and Hagrid squeezed into a corner, wishing he could curl up into a ball.

    "What floor are you going to?"

    "Basement level one."

    Norus nced at Bryan and found it strange that this unfamiliar young wizard was looking at him with a strange smile. However, he immediately shifted his attention to Amelia Bones and raised the parchment in his hand.

    "I previously applied for a deranged ghost from the Spirit Division. The experiment isplete, and I need to return the receipt to the Logistics Department."

    After saying this, Norus fell silent.

    The elevator quickly reached the basement level one. As the gate opened, Norrus strode out and headed towards the left corridor, while Bryan nced deeply at the tall wizard who had disappeared into an office and followed Amelia Bones to the Minister''s office on the right.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0308 Acquaintance?

    0308 Acquaintance?

    The ancient lift groaned and creaked as it rapidly descended, the rusted cables straining with the weight of its upants. Atst, it ground to a halt on the gloomy basement level one of the Ministry of Magic''s subterranean offices. The wrought iron gate screeched open, and Norus, a tall, enigmatic wizard garbed in long crimson robes, strode out purposefully, not sparing a nce at hispanions. His boots clicked sharply on the stone floor as he turned left, disappearing down the dimly lit corridor.

    Bryan watched the mysterious figure''s departure with keen interest, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Beside him, Amelia Bones, the formidable Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, indicated with a curt nod that they should proceed to the right. With the massive form of Hagrid lumbering along behind them, Bryan fell into step beside Amelia.

    "This Norus..." Bryan began, his voice low.

    The atmosphere on the basement level one, where the Minister''s office was located, was solemn and dignified. Invisibly, there was a heavy force suppressing people''s hearts. Hagrid was obviously a little afraid of the atmosphere here, constantly wiping the cold sweat on his forehead, and followed Bryan''s steady pace, his expression showing no signs of abnormality.

    "Norrus Deman, from the Department of Mysteries," Amelia Bones looked at Bryan with some surprise, seemingly not understanding why he was interested in Norus. However, she still introduced him briefly.

    "The Department of Mysteries, huh," Bryan murmured, a hint of a conspiratorial smile ying about his lips as they strode along the corridor nked by offices on either side. "I''ve heard it''s the most mysterious department in the entire Ministry."

    "Indeed," Madam Bones confirmed with a solemn nod. "The Department of Mysteries is one of the most reclusive and autonomous branches within the Ministry''s bureaucracy. Its members, known as Unspeakables, are seldom recruited directly from Hogwarts, but rathere from old, respected wizarding lineages. When these researchers reach retirement age or can no longer serve due to health reasons, they personally select and train sessors - often descendants or prot¨¦g¨¦s - to take up the mantle and continue their work in anonymity. Given the extraordinary need for secrecy surrounding their operations, the Unspeakables enjoy a remarkably high degree of autonomy. The Ministry leadership refrains from meddling overmuch in their cryptic affairs."

    <em>¡®Interesting¡¯</em>

    Madam Bones led Bryan and Hagrid into the Minister''s office. It was a spacious semi-circr room. Although it was located underground, there were four bright windows outside, showing a bright sunny day.

    Although located deep beneath the streets above, the office was rendered airy and well-lit by four broad windows set into the curved outer wall. Bright rays of sunshine streamed through the panes, banishing any lingering gloom or shadows. The weather in the Muggle realm above seemed idyllically sunny this April day.

    To their left, an immense bookshelf stretched the length of the room, packed tightly with tomes and file boxes bearingbels designating them as top-secret material. Each container was secured by locks whose eight curved golden tines resembled the grasping ws of some beast. If anyone approached them without permission, the oue would probably not be pleasant.

    Meanwhile, the rightmost wall of the office was lined with disy cases containing all manner of mysterious artifacts and antiquities, each more weird than thest. These clearly represented the luxurious personal collection of Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister for Magic.

    "These are Cornelius''s personal collections..."

    Fudge was not in his office. After directing Hagrid to sit on the sofa, Amelia Bones turned around and saw Bryan, who was familiar with her, standing in front of the shelf, admiring the disyed artworks with great interest.

    Compared to outside, Amelia''s face was much gentler. She smiled and walked to Bryan''s side, introducing to him,

    "Most of them are goblin made artifacts, and some are antiques with a long magical history."

    "It seems that our Minister of Magic is an open person."

    Bryan also nodded with a smile, shifting his gaze away from a golden mask with a strong ancient Egyptian style. If he remembered correctly, this thing should have been smuggled back by them from Egyptst year. He didn''t know why it ended up in Fudge''s hands.

    Bryan''sment was met with a gentle smile from Amelia Bones, who didn''t deny it, but it was clear that she didn''t appreciate Fudge''s style.

    Before getting into the main topic, some small talk was inevitable.

    "Although she didn''t pass those tests of yours, Susan spoke highly of your interesting Defense Against Dark Arts practical lessons. I must say, Bryan, you have quite the imagination and courage. Few professors dare to present Inferi before young wizards, but I believe it''s the right thing to do. Hogwarts bears the important responsibility of supplying talent to the Wizarding world, and in recent years, we''ve noticed that the young wizards graduating¡­ As always, they are excellent, but they clearlyck some necessary qualities, such as decisiveness, resilience, and distinctiveness. These are very important issues, but some short-sighted people just don''t take them seriously."

    <em>''Was she criticizing Dumbledore or hinting at something else?''</em>

    Bryan modestly defended himself, keeping a calm expression while his mind raced.

    Amelia Bones held a high position in the Ministry of Magic and was also the most popr candidate for the next Minister of Magic after Fudge. In the Ministry, the only one who couldpete with her on an equal footing was Barty Crouch from the International Magical Cooperation Department. However, after the events involving Sirius ck came to light, Barty Crouch waspletely out of the picture and couldn''t be herpetitor.

    "Indeed, a peaceful life can easily indulge people, blinding certain short-sighted wizards to the hidden dangers within."

    Bryan smiled and agreed.

    When the future war breaks out, people like Fudge will only be a burden and not of much use. At that time, Bryan hoped that someone in the Ministry would take his opinions seriously. Using force to coerce and intimidate is not advisable, as it will only lead him down the path of the "Dark Lord."

    For this reason, he needed someone in the Ministry who could represent him and speak for him. Now it seemed that Amelia Bones was an excellent choice.

    Bryan hoped to find an ally within the Ministry of Magic, and at present, the most suitable candidate seemed to be Amelia Bones, and he currently has The first point is the most clear and obvious, which is his position Director of the Student Safety Office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Even without Dumbledore, Hogwarts holds a superior position in the wizarding world, and the staff at the school can be considered ''officials'' to some extent. Not to mention that when Dumbledore established this position, he defined it as being on the same level as of the Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts.

    The second point is the wisdom Bryan disyed in dealing with the trouble caused by Sirius ck.

    The third point is even more crucial.

    Compared to the Muggle world, the wizarding world still retains some characteristics of ancient human society, namely ''might makes right.''

    The power Bryan disyed when dealing with the Werewolf pack exceeded the armed forces possessed by the Ministry of Magic. If it weren''t for Albus Dumbledore still being there, the entire Ministry of Magic might have fallen into panic due to the sudden appearance of such powerful individual in the British wizarding world.

    However, forming an alliance is also dependent on the willingness of both parties.

    In Bryan''s point of view, Amelia Bones has already shown a certain willingness, but she still remains cautious of him.

    This is a normal; after all, the two of them had never interacted before, and now he has forcefully stood in front of the Ministry of Magic in such a prominent manner, forcing them to take notice of him and acknowledge him. Anyone would be cautious in such a situation.

    "So, Amelia--"

    At the request of Madam Bones, Bryan addressed her by her name directly,

    "In fact, besides being invited to participate in the press conference and the award ceremony, I also have some personal matters to attend to during my visit to the Ministry. Originally, I was nning to ask Minister Fudge--"

    Madam Bones blinked in surprise, then a smile appeared on her lips.

    Asking someone for help is also a way to show intimacy. On the night when Greyback died, she had tentatively invited Bryan to join the Ministry, but he had rejected the olive branch she extended. This made her think that Bryan, like Dumbledore, was not very interested in getting involved in the Ministry. But now, it seems that Bryan is also seeking something.

    "Is there anything I can help you with--" Madam Bones immediately said with a smile, "Don''t be polite, Bryan. Even for Susan''s sake, I will do my best."

    She didn''t mention Greyback or Sirius ck, instead bringing up Susan, a young witch at the school whom Bryan hadn''t paid much attention to--, This was just a discussion of personal rtions.

    Dealing with smart people was indeed efficient, Bryan nodded to himself.

    "Hagrid, tell me of this trouble you mentioned..."

    "Uh? Wha''? Oh, righ'', not tha''..." the massive man collected himself, mopping his brow nervously with a soil-stained handkerchief. "It''s...it''s Buckbeak I need help with!"

    Nervous and flustered, Hagrid regained his senses.

    Given his own troubled history of being unfairly expelled from Hogwarts during his youth, he is always particrly nervous about anything that goes against thew.

    "Buckbeak is a Hippogriff, and it had an ident in the Forbidden Forest, oh... no, it, it caused an ident to Draco during ss."

    Hagrid''s stuttering words confused Madam Bones, and she furrowed her brow in confusion,

    "Lucius Malfoy''s son, what happened to him?"

    Bryan nced at Hagrid, whose face had turned red, and casually said,

    Bryan shot a sidelong nce toward the perspiring half-giant, his lips pursing in faint disapproval at the man''s escting agitation. With a practiced air of nonchnce, he smoothly interjected.

    "It was nothing terribly serious, Amelia. Just a minor ident during one of Hagrid''s lessons. Young Mister Malfoy, no doubt seeking to impress his peers with his boldness, neglected to follow proper safety protocols when approaching the hippogriff Buckbeak. The creature was provoked by the boy''s reckless posturing andshed out, inflicting little more than a scratch on his arm."

    Noticing the slight frown on Madam Bones'' forehead, Bryan added,

    "He recovered the same day, it wasn''t a serious injury."

    Madam Bones''s frown eased, and after a moment of thought, her eyes brightened with amusement, "Lucius making a mountain out of a molehill?"

    "The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures has filed a formalwsuit against Buckbeak, and it''s very likely they''ll execute the innocent creature."

    Though the precise wizarding aphorism eluded Bryan''s grasp, her meaning was unmistakable - the Malfoys were manufacturing a crisis out of a trifling misstep in order to bully and cajole the Ministry toward disciplining Hagrid. No doubt bribes and underhanded maniptions were being employed with Cornelius Fudge''s typically pliant administration.

    Bryan picked up the teacup, the red tea in the cup was crystal clear, and when the liquid was still, it looked like a ruby. But Bryan only took a sip, his face calm.

    "I know this is not easy to handle--" Madam Bones was silent for a moment, while Hagrid''srge hands were clenched tightly, sweating profusely, "As long as... as long as you can spare... Buckbeak, I can give up any reward!"

    Madam Bones suddenly stood up from the sofa, causing Hagrid to think that he had angered her and he was about to exin, but Bryan gave him a reassuring gesture.

    Madam Bones quickly walked to the assistant''s desk, took out a quill from the pen holder, and quickly wrote a few words on the paper. Then, she took out her wand and tapped it, and the parchment immediately folded itslef into a paper airne, zooming out of the office through the crack in the door.

    "I''ve written to Mair, asking him to reassess the situation. I don''t think they''ll bother you anymore, Hagrid."

    Madam Bones returned to the sofa and said kindly.

    Was that it? Hagrid looked bewildered; he had been tormented by this issue for half a year!

    "There''s one more thing, Amelia--"

    Hagrid was still in a daze, while Bryan had already put this matter behind him,

    "I think you might have a memory of it. Last summer, a young witch at Hogwarts applied to the Ministry for a Time-Turner for her studies."

    After a brief thought, Madam Bones nodded, "There was indeed such a thing. I don''t quite remember the young witch''s name, but I do recall Minerva brought the child''s end-of-year exam results andments from all her professors to the Ministry for Connolly to sign the form."

    "That Time-Turner broke."

    Bryan took out the Time-Turner that he had broken himself from his pocket and showed it to Madam Bones.

    "It broke?"

    This time, Madam Bones''s expression became much more solemn. Time-Turners were strictly controlled magical items, each registered and ounted for. If one broke without a valid reason, the Ministry would undoubtedly investigate thoroughly.

    "Yes--" Bryan nodded, "That young witch''s name is Hermione Granger¡ªa very intelligent and hardworking young witch. She can''t remember exactly how the Time-Turner broke, but it was probably on the way when she and Harry Potter were escaping from the werewolf''s pursuit."

    "In other words, Greyback broke it?"

    Madam Bones''s expression softened.

    "Yes, the ''culprit'' has already been punished."

    Bryan said without a flush or skip of a heartbeat, framing Greyback was easy, and if anyone objected, they could ask Greyback to speak for himself.

    "That makes things much easier." Madam Bones said, "Well, tell Hermione Granger to write a statement exining the situation, have Minerva and you, both sign it, and then I will give the statement to Cornelius to sign a disimer and return it to the Department of Mysteries. Then, this matter will be resolved."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0309 Commendations

    0309 Commendations

    Amelia handled the unexpected situation that troubled Hagrid and Hermione with such ease, showcasing her abilities and the convenience of her power and authority to Bryan in full disy.

    Truth be told, for a brief moment, Bryan seriously considered whether he should wade into the mess at the Ministry of Magic, but he quickly came to his senses. Indeed, under a stable social order, power is a very useful thing, but when social order heads towards chaos, his own strength holds more sway.

    Moreover, once one steps into the quagmire of power, it''s not so easy to remain unscathed, just like Amelia in front of him.

    Amelia Bones has always had a good reputation in the wizarding world, seen as an upright witch. But even someone like her, when caught in the struggle for power, has to find ways to increase her own bargaining chips if she doesn''t want to be kicked out.

    "Oh, ho ho, but who do we have here?"

    Just a minute before eight o''clock, a series of footsteps suddenly came from outside the office door. Cornelius Fudge, leading the way, opened his office door to see Bryan on the sofa and immediately showed delight, striding over with open arms.

    "Good morning, Minister Fudge. You''re looking quite well¡ª"

    Bryan rose to his feet and warmly embraced Fudge, his words apanied by a cordial smile.

    "Yes, indeed, all thanks to the outstanding young hero who aided the Ministry of Magic in resolving a monumental predicament!"

    Cornelius Fudge said with a conspiratorial wink directed at Bryan, his expression couldn''t be more friendly. Then, as if struck by a sudden recollection, he patted his forehead, stepped aside, and formally introduced the individuals who had followed in his wake into the office to Bryan.

    "Rufus and Dolores, you''ve had the pleasure of their acquaintance that fateful night, Bryan. These two are among Amelia''s and my most capable assistants. Without their valuable contributions, we wouldn''t be able to handle theplicated situation!"

    Fudge said with a beaming smile.

    Bryan noticed the fleeting displeasure in Amelia''s eyes. Then, he realized what the problem was. Perhaps, what Fudge said was just a polite remark.

    Not to mention the change in attitude when they met again, smiling and assessing him coquettishly, Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, was not someone to be taken lightly.

    Rufus Scrimgeour might not be in the same trench as Amelia. He was the Head of the Auror Office, a subordinate department of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But when Amelia received him, she didn''t bring along this crucial subordinate of the department. Instead, Rufus followed behind Fudge, which should be considered a snub.

    Bryan had encountered Rufus three times. The first time, he sent him to St. Mungo''s, the second was a few nights ago when Rufus was all for attacking him, and now was the third.

    Bryan understood why the head of the Auror Office was cold towards him.

    From Rufus''s reaction after seeing Bryan use the Fiendfyre Curse that night, it was clear he was someone who couldn''t tolerate any ws. Moreover, the Aurors had been tracking Greyback for years without sess, only to inexplicably fall into his hands, which was almost like saying all Aurors were ipetent.

    "Ahem, and this¡ª"

    Fudge''s smile became somewhat strained as his gaze fell upon the final wizard to enter the office, "The esteemed head of the distinguished International Magical Cooperation Department, the famous Barty Crouch. Everyone in the British wizarding world knows him, and that includes you, right, Bryan?"

    Full of malice.

    Whether it was the calcted sequence of the introductions or Fudge''s tone, Bryan could not fail to discern the unmistakable aura of malice that clung to Fudge''s attitude towards Barty Crouch.

    Barty Crouch was a man in his fifties, with a chubby figure and a perpetually mismatched outfit. Unlike Fudge, who usually wore a friendly smile, Crouch stood straight with rigid movements. He wore a spotless, wide suit and a tie without a single wrinkle. His short ck hair was equally neat, and the middle parting was so straight that it seemed like it was drawn with a ruler. His narrow mustache was trimmed as if it had been measured with a ruler as well.

    Bryan could sense the coldness in Crouch''s gaze as he looked at him, rather than hostility or disgust.

    This was very interesting.

    At this point, Barty Crouch couldn''t possibly not know that the Ministry was preparing to push the me for Sirius ck onto him, which wouldpletely ruin his chances of advancing in his position. Normally, Barty Crouch would definitely resent him. Under ordinary circumstances, Barty Crouch would have undoubtedly harbored a deep-seated resentment towards the orchestrator of his downfall. The fact that he was facing him with such an expression could only mean one thing: Fudge didn''t reveal that it was his idea.

    While Bryan was contemting, Barty Crouch stared at him and his eyebrows twitched imperceptibly.

    As a long-standing senior official in the Ministry of Magic, Crouch had seen countless outstanding young wizards from all walks of life over the years. But every one of them, under his oppressive gaze, would appear uneasy and nervous to some extent.

    Only this Director of Hogwarts Student Safety Office, Bryan Watson, who appeared to be in his early twenties, didn''t show any fear after his gaze pierced into those pale purple eyes. On the contrary, it was himself who felt a slight palpitation in the face of the sharpness that shed in those purple eyes.

    Originally, when Cornelius told him that it was just a young wizard who had taken down Greyback and his pack of werewolves, he didn''t quite believe it, but now, he was almost half-convinced.

    The person with the worst mood in the room was definitely Barty Crouch.

    Twelve years ago, his son, a Death Eater ruined his hopes of bing the Minister of Magic, and after twelve years of hard work, people in the wizarding world had gradually forgotten the scandal that had happened to him. But now, a political achievement from those bygone years was dragging him back into the abyss.

    If it were in the past, Barty Crouch wouldn''t mind exchanging a few words with this powerful young wizard who suddenly emerged. But now, he was in no mood for it, so he just nodded at Bryan with a stern face.

    Currently, several people in the office were strong contenders for the next Minister of Magic, and since he had already chosen to support Amelia Bones, it was natural not to be too friendly with others, so Bryan just nodded back to Barty Crouch with a forced smile.

    The atmosphere in the room was slightly cold, Fudge seemed a bit embarrassed, and Amelia timely stepped forward, smiling at Fudge, "I was just discussing the situation at the school with Bryan, Cornelius. I think the most important thing should be conveyed by you."

    "Oh, thank you for giving me this honor, Amelia¡ª"

    Fudge immediately said with a beaming smile. He asked everyone to find a seat and then looked warmly at Bryan.

    "The Order of Merlin, First ss¡ªwe have been inmunication with the Office of Award Assessments, which falls under the jurisdiction of the International Confederation of Wizards. It was no easy feat, but we have managed to secure this for you. This is what I promised youst summer."

    "My sincere thanks!"

    Bryan still feigned a bit of surprise, though he was unfazed.

    "In addition, after discussions within the Ministry, we will invite you to serve as a Wizengamot judge and a senior advisor to the Ministry of Magic. And of course, the bounty money for Greyback and the werewolves under him, along with the reward originally prepared for Sirius ck, will be a total of seventy thousand Galleons!"

    This could be considered a tangible benefit and the smile on Bryan''s face became more genuine.

    "We have also secured some additional titles for you, Bryan,"

    Fudge said gleefully,

    "The honorary vice-chairman of the Anti-Dark Arts League¡ªDumbledore is the honorary chairman. Also, we''ve contacted the famous wizarding magazine¡ª ''The Wizard''s Weekly.'' This year''s ''Most Charming Smile Award'' is undoubtedly yours, Bryan. I bet your picture on the magazine cover will be more eye-catching than Gilderoy Lockhart''s. After all, that annoying chatan just stole a story of a wizard who helped a small vige get rid of werewolves, while you actually took down so many werewolves!"

    <em>''Damn, what bad luck!''</em>

    Bryan''s smile froze on his face.

    After announcing themendation for Bryan, Fudge confronted him again regarding what to say and what not to say in the conference. After all, the journalists wouldn''t let such a big news slip away easily; they would surely attempt to dig out every detail they could.

    After internal discussions, the higher-ups finally decided to announce to the wizarding world that, in addition to Bryan''s direct actions, the Minister Cornelius Fudge and Barty Crouch Sr. had led the early intelligence gathering andmand operations in the werewolf eradication effort.

    Bryan was somewhat surprised to hear this exnation.

    Fudge''s decision to seize the spotlight for himself came as no great surprise ¨C it presented an unparalleled opportunity to bolster public support and reinforce his tenuous grasp on power. As for Barty Crouch, Bryan swiftly discerned that this was likely a calcted form ofpensation. After all, a "scapegoat" would soon be required to bear the brunt of responsibility for Sirius¡¯s case.

    "This is a great victory. For a long time, the wizardingmunity has lived under the shadow of the werewolf criminal organization led by Greyback - there are many heartbreaking examples of innocent and kind wizarding residents losing their peaceful and tranquil lives due to werewolf attacks."

    The entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic was almost filled with reporters from various well-known media outlets at home and abroad and amidst the continuous sound of camera shes, Fudge proimed with a booming voice, his face aglow, passionately denouncing the heinous crimesmitted by Greyback in both the Muggle and wizarding worlds.

    It was as if,pared to the ''monstrous'' Greyback, the darkest deeds of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were mere petty thefts.

    "It''s incredible that not a whisper leaked from the Ministry beforehand!"

    Fudge boasted from the podium, while below, many Ministry employees were busy maintaining order. A sweating Mr. Weasley took a moment to catch his breath and spoke to Amos Diggory, who was also responsible for this task.

    "I agree with you, Arthur!"

    Amos Diggory, from the Department of Magical Creatures, eximed,

    "You know, Arthur, I have quite a few acquaintances in the Auror Office, but not a single one of them mentioned a word about it. Just now, I even ran into Kingsley over there, and he was very secretive about it. Oh, it''s unbelievable that they actually kept silent and aplished such a great feat!"

    Amos paused, his gaze drifting back towards the stage, where the unmistakable figure of Bryan Watson stood out in stark contrast to the assemge of middle-aged witches and wizards, the majority of whom appeared to be well into their forties or beyond.

    "Tell me, Arthur, how much do you truly know about this Watson?"

    "Oh, him -" Mr. Weasley smiled cheerfully."To be honest, I should be surprised, I mean, a wizard taking down so many werewolves. But when I found out it was Bryan, I somehow thought it was to be expected!"

    In the Ministry, if you had a juicy piece of gossip, you would be highly sought after. Amos''s interest was piqued by Arthur¡¯s cryptic response, and he grabbed Mr. Weasley''s robe, ''ordering'' him to rify.

    "You all must know aboutst year''s basilisk incident. Bryan saved my daughter Ginny and my youngest son Ron. Although Fudge imed that Bryan was sent by the Ministry and the Hogwarts Board of Governors to the school, but in fact there was no such thing."

    "I''ve heard Cedric talk about this."

    Amos said enthusiastically,

    "He really liked Bryan Watson as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He even said that he was the only wizard in recent years to safely step down from that position. What do you think that signifies, Arthur?"

    A short wizard, resembling a stoat and dressed in a dark blue robe, also came over,

    "Perhaps¡ª"

    This was Reginald Cattermole from the Magical Maintenance Department. He lowered his voice to avoid being overheard by the reporters who were everywhere.

    "There have been rumors for many years about the curse ced on that professorship by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and only this Bryan Watson has been the exception. Maybe¡ª"

    Cattermole also stopped talking, not continuing. The reason he stopped was the same as Amos - because the spection was too sensational, and they would find it absurd just thinking about it.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0310 The Press Conference (Part-1)

    0310 The Press Conference (Part-1)

    Cattermole also stopped talking, not continuing. The reason he stopped was the same as Amos - because the spection was too sensational, and they would find it absurd just thinking about it.

    Mr. Weasley also guessed what his two colleagues were thinking. His first reaction was also that it was impossible, but then he remembered the incident that befell his eldest son Bill and his second son Charlie on that unfortunate night in their fifth year.

    At just sixteen, Bryan Watson single-handedly repelled an unknown powerful dark wizard and even blocked the Disarming Charm cast in anger by Dumbledore. After so many years, I''m afraid no one can figure out the extent of his magic power.

    At the sound of apuse, Fudge reluctantly stepped down from the stage and handed it over to Barty Crouch.

    "As Minister Fudge said -" Mr. Crouch said coldly. "We had previously contacted Hogwarts and obtained the support of the Head of Student Safety Office. We deployed arge number of Aurors in the possible directions the werewolves might flee, and ultimately forced them out of the Forbidden Forest. And Mr. Bryan Watson, who possesses extraordinary power, stopped them from taking the residents of Hogsmeade Vige hostage and before they could escape the Forbidden Forest, hepletely wiped them out."

    Bryan smiled and politely bowed to the reporters below, who looked at him with awe.

    Amidst the enduring apuse, a reporter shouted,

    "Say a few words, Mr. Watson!"

    To be honest, the reporters who could participate in such a major press conference were industry elites. Whether it was Minister Cornelius Fudge or the words of the Director of the International Magical Cooperation, they were just boring officialnguage in their ears. It wouldn''t arouse the interest of the public. People were only curious about new faces.

    The shout of the reporter just now received the enthusiastic response of most of his colleagues. Barty Crouch, who was already impatient, saw this and turned and left without even saying a word to Cornelius Fudge. He just nced coldly at Bryan before leaving.

    "Well, I think I should introduce myself first -"

    Although it was his first time facing such a scene, Bryan showed no signs of difort. Under Fudge''s superfluous, encouraging gaze, he smiled and gracefully walked to the center of the stage, pointed his wand at his throat, and immediately, his crisp voice filled the entire Ministry hall.

    "My name is Bryan Amos Watson, and like everyone here, I graduated from the greatest magical school in the world, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After leaving that school, in order to further improve myself on the path of magic, I have been traveling to various countries, following in the footsteps of the ancient wizards who left their mark on the history of magic. Until earlyst year, I was invited back to that school, tasked by the Ministry and the Board of Governors to investigate the truth behind the rumored Chamber of Secrets, and by chance, became a professor¡ª"

    Before today, Bryan Watson had never entered the public eye, so one can imagine the shock it brought to the Wizarding world when a rtively unknown young wizard single-handedly wiped out an entire werewolf pack in an era of peace.

    "Mr. Watson!"

    After Bryan''s brief self-introduction, a graceful woman with wine-red curly hair, wearing a press badge from the influential French newspaper "The Gargoyle''s Roar," raised her hand with reverence and said, "Minister Fudge has just announced to the Wizarding world that you will be awarded the Order of Merlin, First ss, and the British Ministry of Magic will hire you as a senior advisor. Does this mean you will be leaving Hogwarts to pursue a career in politics?"

    "I don''t think so--" Bryan answered without hesitation, smiling lightly. "While serving the residents of the wizarding world as a Ministry official is a very noble job, I would prefer to stay at Hogwarts. I enjoy being with the children, nurturing their skills and minds, and helping them grow into qualified adult wizards. That''s what I find more meaningful."

    Bryan''s response was met with warm apuse, and some high-ranking officials at the Ministry breathed a sigh of relief.

    If Bryan Watson, with the prestige of exterminating werewolves, attempted to join the Ministry, they would likely have no choice but to ept him with the support of the public opinion. And they couldn''t just offer a powerful wizard like him any ordinary position; At that time, someone would surely have to step down.

    Today, Bryan got a taste of how difficult it is to deal with the reporters, who Minister Fudge feared like a tiger, The question posed by "The Gargoyle''s Roar" reporter was just a test. After that, a barrage of tricky questions followed.

    Some asked if Bryan had already been designated as the next headmaster of Hogwarts, others inquired who had more magical power between him and Dumbledore, and there were questions about whether Bryan, as a wizard of Muggle origin, would advocate for the rights of half-blood wizards.

    Even a reporter from the American "New York Pixie Post" across the Antic asked Bryan what he thought about the imprisonment of Gilderoy Lockhart, the famous bestselling author in the European wizarding world, who had co-taught Defense Against the Dark Arts with himst year.

    What else could he say? Go to Azkaban and see for yourself.

    Overall, the atmosphere of the press conference was quite friendly. After all, the Ministry and Bryan Watson had eliminated a notoriously evil werewolf gang, and no one wanted to spoil the mood at this celebratory moment.

    But there were exceptions.

    "Mr. Watson, I am Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet--"

    It was a female reporter from the Daily Prophet, known for stirring up trouble and her venomous writing style. She had her hair done in an borate, stiff, and oddly shaped curl, which, paired with herrge chin, looked particrly awkward. She wore jewel-encrusted sses, her chubby fingers clutching a crocodile-skin handbag, her nails two inches long and painted bright red. At that moment, her hand was raised high, and a green quick-quotes quill was scribbling rapidly on the parchment on herp.

    "Oh, dear, I knew she''d be here¡ª"

    Fudge''s face immediately tensed up, and his nervous muttering urately reached Bryan''s ears.

    It seemed this was Rita Skeeter, the Daily Prophet journalist notorious for her nderous and vicious words.

    Rita Skeeter was well-known in the industry. When she raised her hand to ask a question, the noisy reporters around her suddenly quieted down, looking at Rita with interest as she grinned, revealing threerge gold teeth, as if they were all anticipating something.

    "Ms. Skeeter, you may state your question--" Bryan said gently.

    "Oh, Mr. Watson, there is no doubt that you have achieved remarkable aplishments, truly astonishing. I can''t imagine how a rtively unknown wizard so young could single-handedly judge nearly a hundred vicious werewolves in a direct confrontation--" Rita Skeeter smiled, her lips moving quickly, but her eyes behind the morous frames shed a sharp light.

    "Yes, I''m puzzled by this, so my lovely colleagues, who are persistent in their pursuit of the truth, and I visited some of the Hogsmeade vigers who witnessed that scene that night. Oh, there are some strange rumors circting there, of course, it could also be that those vigers couldn''tprehend your powerful magic¡ª"

    Bryan patiently maintained a listening posture, "What kind of strange rumors are you referring to?"

    Rita Skeeter''s mouth curled into a cunning smile. She stood up from her chair, allowing the cameras to capture her more clearly. "This is a terrible usation, but, Mr. Watson, it seems that some people believe that the powerful fire magic you used that night... was Fiendfyre?"

    When the name ''Fiendfyre'' was mentioned in the Ministry''s atrium, a chill seemed to sweep over the heads of the murmuring reporters, causing them all to shrink their necks.

    In Britain, the public might not be so familiar with Fiendfyre, after all, it''s a powerful spell that only a few wizards can control and master. However, reporters from France and Germany would not forget the devastation it caused to some cities in their countries when a certain wizard was active.

    Although not as infamous as the Unforgivable Curses, Fiendfyre is also on the list of spells absolutely forbidden by the Ministries of Magic in various countries. Of course, using extreme measures against werewolves isn''t entirely unreasonable, so many reporters, despite having some information, still haven''t brought this up.

    But still, it''s a disgraceful matter, isn''t it?

    For both Bryan Watson and the Ministry, it''s the same. Rita Skeeter, keen on uncovering scandals, cunningly saw through this and threw out the question.

    Fudge was sweating profusely, and Amelia also frowned.

    On the other hand, Rufus Scrimgeour, who was also attending the press conference, had a glint of satisfaction in his lion-like yellow eyes. He didn''t like Bryan Watson, not just because he overshadowed Auror''s fame, but because, as someone who had been fighting evil criminals for years, he sensed a scent of crime on Bryan.

    Rufus Scrimgeour, who had spent half his life dealing with dark wizards, knew very well that a wizard so adept at using Fiendfyre couldn''t be without ws, but his superiors in the department collectively fell silent, choosing to turn a blind eye.

    Everyone stretched their necks, waiting for Bryan to give a reasonable exnation. People spected on what exnation Bryan could give¡ªeither deny it outright or present a special permit from the Ministry of Magic. Of course, this would embarrass both himself and the British Ministry of Magic, and that was exactly what Rita Skeeter intended.

    Looking at the faces staring at him eagerly, Bryan smiled slightly.

    "Before I answer that question, I''d like to ask everyone¡ª"

    Bryan looked around, calmly asking, "Why is Fiendfyre considered an illegal spell in various countries?"

    The abrupt question left everyone bewildered, even Rita Skeeter, who posed the question, couldn''t see through Bryan''s intentions at first. However, she quickly reacted and pressed on, "Sir, I thought we were discussing whether the magic used to kill Greyback was Fiendfyre, not the academic question of why Fiendfyre is banned in many countries."

    Bryan Watson wanted to muddy the waters and brush off the question.

    Rita Skeeter, confident that she had seen through Bryan Watson''s thoughts, ignored Fudge''s angry re and showed a delighted expression.

    "The reason why Fiendfyre is considered dark magic and banned by various countries can be summed up in three points."

    ncing at Rita Skeeter, who seemed determined to pin him down with this question, Bryan exined calmly.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0311 The Press Conference (Part-2)

    0311 The Press Conference (Part-2)

    "Fundamentally, there are three points to consider," Bryan ignored Rita Skeeter''s question and began discussing his understanding of the Fiendfyre, a profound dark magic, with the journalists and Ministry of Magic officials present at the meeting.

    "Firstly, the power of Fiendfyre, a deeply abhorred dark magic, is partly dependent on the caster''s violent emotions. This extreme mindset contributes to the uncontroble nature of Fiendfyre, which, after being sessfully conjured, further fuels the caster''s rage, leading to an even more uncontroble ze."

    To be honest, this was a very precious opportunity to receive personal insights from a wizard whose power rivaled that of Dumbledore. For those aspiring to the path of magic, no amount of wealth could match the value of this knowledge.

    Bryan''s calm voice captivated many people, even Rufus put aside his initial prejudice and listened carefully to Bryan''s exnation.

    "Based on the first point, if you want to sessfully unleash the Fiendfyre without getting burned, you must have exceptional control over your magical power. Most wizards, even if they have the magical power to release this spell, perish due to insufficient control over the Fiendfyre''s bacsh.

    Magical power is an important medium for the Fiendfyre. The me that harbors the aggressive thoughts of the spellcaster will actively consume anything with a high concentration of magical power in its vicinity. Normally, this means that any living being or object with magical power will face disaster when approaching the Fiendfyre."

    "So what?" Rita Skeeter interjected as she noticed that people''s attention had been diverted away from her question. Feeling uneasy, she wiped the smile off her face and coldly said, "Mr. Watson, perhaps people should be amazed at your mastery over this extremely evil dark magic, but this precisely represents-"

    As a genuine professor, Bryan knew how to deliver a captivating lecture. Rita Skeeter persisted in nagging him, but Bryan, under the watchful eyes of all present, flicked his wrist, and his wand slid into his palm.

    "Now, I will demostrate you the me magic that killed Greyback," As Bryan finished his sentence. The high-ranking officials from the Ministry of Magic standing behind him froze in ce.

    To disy Fiendfyre in the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic, in front of journalists from around the world, was a joke taken too far!

    Cornelius Fudge immediately thought of that night on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, where he witnessed a sea of fire threatening to engulf the sky¡ªa powerful magic he had never seen before. Even during the years when the Dark Lord ravaged the British Wizarding world, Dumbledore''s presence had prevented such brazen disys.

    "Wait, Bryan, you can''t do this!" Fudge''s forehead broke out in a cold sweat, fearing that Bryan was going to showcase his magic in front of the entire Ministry of Magic.

    <em>''Could he be so embarrassed that he wanted to kill Rita Skeeter?''</em>

    Reacting even faster, Rufus grabbed his wand in the same manner as Bryan, his face turning pale. With a swift motion, he cast a Disarming Charm, and a red light shot out with a whoosh.

    At less than ten feet, the spell''s light appeared behind Bryan in an instant, and in the eyes of the onlookers, this rising star seemed to have made a fool of himself!

    Today''s events would surely make the headlines: Bryan Watson, in an attempt to release the Fiendfyre in public, was disarmed by Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office of the British Ministry of Magic. This was undoubtedly a big scandal.

    <strong>Buzz--</strong> At the critical moment, a silver-blue vortex of magic formed behind Bryan. The ck abyss at the center of the vortex was like a ck hole, and the approaching Disarming Charm''s light was effortlessly swallowed by the ck hole, without causing any ripples.

    But Bryan seemed to be unaware of this, he smiled and didn''t even turn his head. With a graceful movement of his wrist, like a dance, cute and agile canaries made of different-colored mes emerged from the tip of his wand. They fluttered their wings and danced under the peacock-blue ceiling of the hall, to the astonishment of the hundreds of people present.

    These lifelike canaries had different colors, and as they flew from one side of the hall to the other, people felt as if they were witnessing a dazzling fireworks disy above their heads.

    "These firebirds...," someone eximed in awe, "they can actually sing?"

    That''s right, while performing various difficult aerial maneuvers, these birds also emitted clear chirping sounds. Perhaps ordinary people would think it was nothing special, but only those who understood would know how extraordinary it was to achieve this.

    Even if it was just a regr fire spell, wizards who could control the mes to transform into birds were extremely rare, let alone if it was the Fiendfyre.

    The journalist with beautiful wine-red curly hair from France was captivated by these agile firebirds. She forgot that these birds might be the Fiendfyre in disguise and couldn''t help reaching out her hand towards them. Bryan, who noticed this, made one of the birds in the flocknd directly on her hand.

    Gasps erupted throughout the hall, and some of the more timid wizards even covered their eyes.

    "It feels warm," the journalist said, stroking the flickering feathers of the firebird, her voice filled with confusion.

    "I understand what you mean, Mr. Watson. But are you sure--this isn''t conjured by the ''FBird-Conjuring Charm?" she asked.

    <strong>Snap--</strong> Bryan snapped his fingers, and the firebird in the journalist''s hand soared into the air, swiftly diving down like a peregrine falcon hunting from high above, and with a loud bang, it collided with a white statue in a weing pose at the edge of the hall.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    In an instant, the statue was engulfed in a surging ze. The journalists closest to it screamed and fell to the ground, staring in horror at the statue, which now resembled a snowman exposed to scorching sunlight. The female journalist who had been holding the firebird was also frightened into silence.

    In the ensuing silence, Bryan took out a piece of parchment from his pocket and tossed it into the air. The parchment floated down andnded in Rita Skeeter''s arms.

    "The magic I used is indeed rted to the Fiendfyre, but it cannot be defined as the Fiendfyre. The approval document you have in your hand is the application I submitted to the Experimental Spells Committee of the Ministry of Magic two years ago for the improvement of the Fiendfyre. As you can see, it has Mr. Gilbert Wimple''s signature of approval.

    I have changed the structure of this spell. The new spell is easier to control and no longer relies on the spellcaster''s aggression and anger as fuel. It no longer actively seeks to consume high concentrations of magical power to strengthen itself, and even the formidable power of the Fiendfyre has been somewhat restrained. I have given this spell a new name - ''Spirit Fire Curse.''"

    Bryan smiled at the shocked journalists, calmly returning his wand to his sleeve.

    "In other words, this is a ''legal'' spell. Any more questions, Ms. Rita Skeeter?"

    "You''re just trying to confuse everyone, Watson."

    Rufus Scrimgeour, who had once again made a fool of himself, turned pale with anger and gritted his teeth as he spoke in a low growl. But Fudge immediately gave him a stern look, then turned to Bryan and gave him an appreciative nce. As for the permit Bryan produced, whether it was real or not didn''t matter. Even if it were fake, it could be made real after the press conference concluded.

    In the face of Bryan''s brilliant disy of Improved Fiendfyre Curse or Spirit Fire Curse and the permit for its research and improvement, Rita Skeeter could only back down. However, as someone who had never failed in her decades-long career, she was clearly unwilling to ept this. From the expression on her face when she returned the permit, it was clear that she had set her sights on Bryan.

    "Be careful, Bryan--"

    After the grand press conference, the British Ministry of Magic, as the host, held avish luncheon in keeping with tradition. During the event, Amelia approached Bryan, who was exchanging pleasantries with Mr. Weasley, and warned him,

    "Rita Skeeter is a troublesome woman; she''s not someone who will be easily dismissed."

    Bryan nodded slightly and nced at Rita Skeeter, who was quickly moving through the crowd, trying to gather more insider information. There was a glint in his eyes.

    Indeed, this well-known journalist from the Daily Prophet had her own unique qualities. Despite the praise and adtion, she still sought to uncover some explosive scoops from him and the Ministry of Magic. Although her goal was not the pursuit of truth, but with this kind of determination, there might be a chance for future cooperation.

    At the Luncheon, Bryan made an announcement that brought the atmosphere to its peak.

    He decided to split the 20,000 Galleon bounty awarded by the Ministry of Magic for the capture of Greyback and his werewolf tribe into two parts: one half to be donated to St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries, hoping for further excellence in treatment of magical injuries.

    The other half was allocated to the Hogwarts Fund for Underprivileged Students, to help those children of humble origins with magical talent realize their dreams of bing qualified wizards.

    The annual sry of a senior official in the Ministry or an ordinary professor at Hogwarts, outside the four heads of houses, does not exceed a thousand Galleons per year. Bryan''s donation was substantial; even Lucius Malfoy, a wealthy pure-blood wizard, rarely made such a generous gesture without seeking something in return.

    The following days were a carnival for the Wizarding news media across the entire European and American wizardingmunity.

    Renowned newspapers and magazines published numerous articles about the joint efforts of the British Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts to eradicate Greyback and his pack of Werewolves.

    Of course, there were other topics as well. On the day of the press conference, Bryan''s demonstration of the powerful Fiendfyre Curse, in response to the questioning of the well-known journalist Rita Skeeter, was also much talked about. While the general wizarding public could only enjoy the spectacle, many wizards involved inspell research and creation were amazed by Bryan''s control and mastery over his magic power during the demonstration.

    The prestigious academic journal, "Spell Innovation," dedicated half of itstest issue to publishing many renowned wizards''s attempts to deduce the structure of the spell.

    Their attempts to replicate it failed, concluding that, aside from the reclusive Albus Dumbledore, who had rarely published his research results in recent years, the young Student Safety Office Director at Hogwarts had now set a new standard in spell innovation within the Wizarding world!

    Suddenly, the notion that Bryan Watson''s magical prowess had surpassed the aging Albus Dumbledore was rampant in the Wizardingmunity, and Dumbledore''s silence only fueled such spections.

    And Bryan was experiencing the ''consequences'' of fame.

    In just three or four days, the temporary residence arranged by the Ministry of Magic for him was flooded with letters from all over the world. The constant arrival of owls even attracted the attention of Muggle animal protection agencies.

    Among those letters, some expressed admiration, some hoped to discuss innovative magical ideas with Bryan, some wanted to challenge him to a duel, and some contained other matters that were not convenient to mention.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0312 Fame & St. Mungoâ€™s

    0312 Fame & St. Mungo¡¯s

    The Anti-Dark Magic League, citing Bryan as their honorary vice-chairman, sent five formal letters to the British Ministry of Magic within three days, ''forcing'' Bryan to fulfill his duties and give a speech at the annual Defense Against The Dark Arts Forum held in Munich.

    The Wizarding Weekly, unable to meet Bryan in person, could only use the photos taken by journalists during the press conference as the cover of their magazine, and dered it the most charming smile.

    It seemed that overnight, Bryan''s name became known to everyone.

    Meanwhile, in an interview with Bryan''s former ssmates, the Daily Prophet learned that Bryan Watson was an orphan who grew up in an orphanage and could only graduate from Hogwarts with the help of the school''s schrship fund. This information,bined with his generous donations, further elevated Bryan''s reputation.

    Some even suggested nominating Bryan as the next Minister for Magic after Fudge.

    Of course, such suggestions were merely for show. Apart from having a certain market among the general public, it was not taken seriously within the British Ministry of Magic. Even Fudge, who was very protective of his position, didn''t pay much attention to it.

    Except for rare exceptions like Dumbledore, it was not easy for an "outsider" who had never worked in the Ministry of Magic to enter this circle. Regardless of how high the public''s voice was, you had to gain the support of several pure-blood wizarding families.

    While the ordinary Wizarding folks may think that half-blood and Muggle-born wizards have be the mainstream in the Wizarding World recent years, as there were many ordinary wizards in the Ministry of Magic, the truly intelligent people knew that many things had not changed and may never change.

    Most high-ranking officials in the Ministry of Magic were still fromNoble families, and those "sacred pure-blood" individuals who rarely appeared in public still controlled the daily lives of ordinary wizards, albeit more discreetly now.

    Another trouble for Bryan was the emergence of numerous magical prop factories, all hoping that Bryan Watson would endorse their products.

    These giants of the Wizarding world were backed by pure-blood wizarding families and often engaged in exchanges of interests with Ministry officials.

    Companies like Mrs. Skower''s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, Butterbeer, Cornflower, Comet Trading, Cleansweep Broom Company, the restructured Universal Broom Ltd., and Nimbus Racing Brooms all offered generous incentives and sent messages through the Ministry of Magic, hoping to secure endorsement deals with Bryan.

    If Bryan wished, he could be a millionaire overnight, but he declined all these offers without exception, as they were only burdens to him.

    Magic was the most important thing, and Bryan never forgot that.

    To avoid harassment, Bryan stayed in the hotel room in London that the Ministry of Magic had arranged for VIPs for five days straight without going out. During these five days, he was busy doing one thing: writing replies to the letters.

    While most of the letters were of no value, a significant portion could not be ignored.

    Meanwhile, at the Ministry of Magic, Fudge, who had been the Minister for over a decade enjoyed the treatment that he had never experienced before during these days. Wherever he went, people would congratte him on the achievements of the Ministry of Magic with a respectful tone. This made Fudge even more grateful to Bryan.

    The Ministry of Magic had taken advantage of Bryan, and the high-ranking officials knew this very well.

    If it weren''t for Bryan, they would still be deeply entangled in the scandal of Sirius ck''s escape from Azkaban and the imminent revtion that the real culprit behind the Potters deaths was Peter Pettigrew, not Sirius ck.

    At first, Fudge believed that he hadpensated Bryan well enough for his "loss," and even thought it was too generous. But seeing the Ministry''s soaring approval among the public, Fudge knew that he still had a long way to go to repay Bryan''s favor.

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    As Bryan left the hotel where he was staying, he employed a small trick - he changed his appearance. The reason for doing so was to avoid unnecessary trouble.

    Though he had not left his room these past few days, through letters and the various newspapers delivered promptly each morning, he had a general idea of the great reaction he had caused in the wizarding world.

    Truth be told, Bryan did not aspire to be a celebrity. He much preferred living in the shadows, operating with ease. However, ever since that night by the sea when he destroyed the cave where Voldemort had hidden one of his Horcruxes, he understood one thing.

    On the day Voldemort inevitably returns to the wizarding world, his wicked soul stirring up trouble once more, merely standing aside would only be a nice dream, even if Voldemort did note after him directly.

    In reality, he could not bear to remain a passive spectator as countless innocent wizards and unsuspecting Muggles tragically perished, their fates echoing the tragic plight of the Inferi that slept in the murky depths of that ursedke.

    <em>''Was Voldemort terrifying?''</em>

    For ordinary people, this was a question that needed no contemtion to answer. But for Bryan or Dumbledore, the answer was- not terrifying, but extremely vexing.

    Once the embers of conflict were stoked anew, it was highly probable that the ensuing confrontation would escte into a protracted and drawn-out war. The ultimate oue would not be determined by a singr duel, but rather by a cataclysmic confrontation between two or more colossal factions vying for supremacy.

    Leading the charge under Voldemort''s wicked banner were the radical pure-blood families, their ideologies deeply entrenched in the archaic notion of Pure Blood Supremacy, and the dark creature groups that had long harbored a deep-seated dissatisfaction with the wizard-governed order of the Wizarding world. On the opposing side stood the forces represented by Dumbledore, their unwavering resolve centered on the gradual and peaceful reformation of the Wizarding world. Additionally, there existed the ''conservative'' faction, its voice amplified by the current Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, whose stubborn adherence to the status quo rejected any semnce of change and yearned for a regressive return to the antiquated traditions of the Middle Ages.

    As these three colossal powers shed in a maelstrom of ideological conflict, Bryan was acutely aware that he must ensure that his independent voice could resonate across the tumultuous battleground. Otherwise, to put it unkindly, he would be little more than a ''super mercenary'' at the beck and call of either Dumbledore or the Ministry.

    And to achieve this pivotal objective, he had to make certain ''sacrifices''.

    St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries was not a great distance from the Ministry of Magic, but unlike the Ministry, it was not constructed beneath the earth''s surface. This architectural deviation was borne of necessity, as an underground structure would not be conducive to the hygienic standards required, and many patients necessitated adequate exposure to the rejuvenating rays of sunlight - one could not simply fool them with sunlight streaming through illusory windows.

    However, in terms of the architectural design and stye of entrance, St. Mungo''s bore a striking simrity to the Ministry.

    St. Mungo''s had been strategically established on a bustling Mugglemercial thoroughfare within the pulsating heart of London''s vibrant district. The spacious road was lined with a myriad of Muggle clothing stores and chic boutiques, ensuring a constant ebb and flow of pedestrian traffic.

    "How strange, the rental costs in this prime location must be exorbitant, yet this establishment has never opened its doors for business¡ª"

    A Muggle woman, her armsden with an array of shopping bags, passed behind Bryan. Despite his meticulously altered appearance, there was a strange aura surrounding Bryan thatpelled the woman to cast a second, lingering nce in his direction, prompting her perplexedint regarding the store he was intently observing.

    Before Bryan stood an antiquated red brick department store bearing the faded moniker "Purge & Dowse, Ltd." Its dpidated and deserted appearance, reminiscent of the telephone booth entrance to the Ministry of Magic, exuded an air of neglect and abandonment.

    The window disy held a mere handful of broken mannequins, their wigs askew in varying states of disarray, frozen in poses that evoked a sense of inadvertent whimsy, d in garments that had long since fallen out of fashion''s fickle favor at least a decade prior. A dusty sign proiming ''Closed for Renovation'' hung precariously upon the grime-encrusted door, its once vibrant letters faded by the passage of time.

    Though Bryan knew the location of St. Mungo''s, he had never ''visited'' as a patient before. His skill in potions was exceptional - he tended to any bacsh from failed experimental spells or careless injuries from missions in the underworld himself.

    After casting a furtive nce around his immediate vicinity and a moment''s deliberate pause, Bryan leaned towards the most unsightly and ill-kempt of the mannequins.

    "Ahem, I am Bryan Watson from Hogwarts, here to visit a student and colleague of mine."

    The mannequin in the window gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod and beckoned with its conjoined fingers. Immediately, Bryan''s heightened senses perceived a palpable shift in the spatial continuum before him as an invisible portal or door opened within his field of vision.

    Outside was a bustling street, while the St. Mungo''s reception area was just as noisy. Many queuing patients made very strange sounds - Bryan''s attention was drawn to a sweat-drenched witch who appeared to have fallen victim to a catastrophically misapplied human transfiguration spell. Her once-feminine visage had assumed a disconcertingly square aspect, puffing plumes of steam from her mouth while emitting shrill whistles akin to a kettle reaching its boiling point.

    This unfortunate witch was feverishly fanning herself with that day''s edition of the Daily Prophet, the front page of which bore a photograph of Bryan himself, captured during the press conference he had attended a mere few days prior.

    The people here were either suffering pain or busy with their own affairs, with no one paying mind to an ordinary-looking wizard''s curious nces.

    At the forefront of the queue stood the reception desk, staffed by a chubby blonde witch whorgely disregarded the inquiries of the patients, impatiently gesturing towards a signboard disying directions beside her while her chubby hand clutched thetest issue of Witches Weekly in a white-knuckled grip.

    In her sparse moments of respite, the chubby blonde Witch would gaze dreamily at the cover of the magazine, which featured a Handsome young wizard of towering stature.

    Bryan shuddered involuntarily and swiftly averted his gaze, a palpable sense of difort washing over him.

    He did not ask which room Draco Malfoy was in. He just nced at the signpost and knew that he should go to the Spell Damage Ward on the fifth floor.

    Following the stumbling patients, Bryan exited the reception area and passed through a narrow corridor lined with portraits of famous Healers on both sides, and even saw a portrait of Audrey Fawley inside.

    Strings of crystal bubbles drifted below the ceiling resembling soapy orbs containing illuminating candles. Healers'' offices on either side saw a steady stream of unfortunate witches and wizards - as Bryan passed one door, a waft of yellow stench billowed out apanied by muffled wails from behind the closed door.

    Come to think of it, except for when he lived in an orphanage in his early childhood in this life, he hadn''t set foot in a hospital for over a decade. Of course, the Hospital Wing was a different story.

    By the time he reached the fifth floor, Bryan had detected Draco''s magical aura amid the chaotic magical environment. He was in the room at the far end of the long corridor, separated from the chaotic environment by arge golden wooden door. A chubby, middle-aged wizard stood sentry nearby, his attention focused on perusing that day''s edition of the Daily Prophet.

    Among the elite echelons of pure-blood wizarding families, the Malfoys were regarded as possessing wealth of an exceptionally prodigious magnitude.

    It was a foregone conclusion that Lucius Malfoy would never subject his son and heir to such indignities as being crammed alongside the ''lesser folk''. It was entirely foreseeable that Draco would be attended to by St. Mungo''s most aplished and esteemed team of Healers.

    "Pardon the intrusion¡ª"

    Bryan rapped his knuckles against the wooden desk before the middle-aged wizard, prompting the slightly vacant, bewildered eyes to rise from the newspaper. Adopting a polite demeanor, he addressed the wizard:

    "I''vee to visit Draco Malfoy. Might I trouble you to open the door?"

    "Oh!"

    The middle-aged wizard flustered as he rose to open the door as if toply with the request, but as his hand reached the lock, he snapped back to his senses. He turned to scrutinize Bryan''s altered appearance warily.

    "Do you have a prior appointment and permission, sir? If not, then by the rules, I cannot let you in!"

    "Ah, my sincere apologies, it was a spur-of-the-moment idea...-I did not give advance notice," Bryan smiled. "Well then, could you ry a message for me? Merely Inform Mr. Malfoy that I am the professor from that boy''s school who taught him the Levitation Charm hands-on, I believe he will grant me admission upon receiving such a message."

    <em>''The Levitation Charm taught hands-on?''</em>

    The middle-aged security wizard fixed Bryan with a suspicious re, muttering the words beneath his breath. But then, his eyes widened with unmistakable excitement as he waved the newspaper clutched in his hand excitedly at Bryan.

    "A professor from his school- you must mean Hogwarts, then! Surely you are acquainted with the esteemed Mr. Bryan Watson? he''s quite famous, isn''t he? I mean, erm, perhaps it''s too much to ask, but could you please get his autograph for me? I wrote him a letter, but s, three entire days have psed without any response!

    Oh, I miss those days before Lockhart''s regrettable incident, when he would never keep me awaiting more than a single day!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0313 The Life of Rich

    0313 The Life of Rich

    During his tenure at Hogwarts, Bryan''s office door crack was no stranger to being stuffed with notes from those energetic witches in senior years. However, being professed adoration to in person by a middle-aged wizard was an experience entirely new to Bryan.

    Amidst the ceaseless torrent of the man''s outpouring, Bryan learned that this wizard''s name was Annison Cohen. Once A na?ve youth whose dreams had been consumed by the allure of bing an Auror, a guardian standing resolute against the dark forces that threatened the peace and order of their world. s, fate had dealt him a cruel hand, as he had failed to obtain the two N.E.W.T.s during his student days at Hogwarts, rendering the halls of the Ministry forever beyond his reach. The only remaining option left to him was to temper his ambitions and seek employment within the St. Mungo''s.

    It was not until Bryan acquiesced to aid him in procuring the autograph from ''Bryan Watson'' that Annison''s breathless ramblings found a momentary respite.

    "I''ll go put in a word for you, sir. In the meantime, would you be so kind as to register your personal information?" Annison inquired, his expression one of guileless innocence. "As you must be well aware, those noble gentlemen have an inherent distaste for any unforeseen urrences."

    Annison pointed to therge register on the desk and the quill in the inkpot, then squeezed through the door crack and left, still mutteringints under his breath, "Oh, the Malfoys, that family is such a pain to deal with, always with those sour faces--"

    Bryan let out a softugh. Draco had been under the control of the Imperius Curse for so long, so it''s understandable that Lucius must be fuming about it.

    Annison returned swiftly. Just as Bryan had finished filling in his name and intended patient visit in the register, the golden door creaked open. Annison squeezed back out from the crack, followed by Lucius Malfoy, who used his hand to prop open the automatically rebounding door and slipped out.

    "Huff, it''s this gentleman--" The brief walk seemed an immense exertion for Annison, but in the imposing presence of Lucius Malfoy, he dared not appear too disheveled. Thus, he spoke while struggling to suppress his panting breaths.

    The face that came into view was as gloomy as he expected, and at this time, those pale gray eyes embedded in this gloomy face still showed a trace of surprise and vignce.

    Before Lucius could give voice to his inquiries, Bryan spoke first, "Let''s discuss inside, Mr. Malfoy. I''d prefer not to cause a disturbance here."

    The familiar timbre of the voice and the manner in which it was delivered immediately dispelled any notion from Lucius''s mind that this stranger might be an impostor. Considering Bryan Watson''s recent surge in poprity within the wizarding world, Lucius instantlyprehended the underlying intentions behind this encounter.

    "Please,e in--" Lucius moistened his dry lips, extending a gesture of hospitality as he ushered Bryan into the VIP enve.

    Though separated by a mere door, the environment within was noticeably more serene. The floor tiles and wall colors adopted a softer, more soothing palette, the air was perfumed with an invigorating fragrance, and various admirable pottedndscapes lined the corridor, their verdant foliage lending a touch of natural splendor to the surroundings.

    Since there were people in the hallway, Bryan and Lucius refrained from engaging in conversation. They passed through a resplendent circr lounge and halted before a wooden door iid with intricate golden patterns.

    "Please, enter--" Lucius gestured, and pushed open the door.

    Only when the hospital room unfolded before him did Bryan truly understand the extravagance of these pure-blood wizarding families.

    It was a room of such grandiose proportions that it rivaled the very size of Dumbledore''s former office¡ªits dimensions vastly expanded by the judicious application of an Undetectable Extension Charm. The domed ceiling was a masterwork of intricate artistic carvings, and two enormous chandeliers, each constructed from thousands of pure white crystal stones, glittered brilliantly in the radiant sunlight that streamed through the windows.

    The soft carpet underfoot was woven from the finest velvet, and the exquisite oil paintings that adorned the walls were clearly not mere daubings from an amateur''s brush, but rather the masterful works of a true artisan.

    On one side of the room, a firece built from bricks intricately carved with the likeness of mermaids and ve figures emanated gentle undting mes, radiating warmth throughout the expansive space. The firewood that served as fuel was evidently not ordinary pine, but rather fragrant sandalwood, permeating the air with an exquisitely pleasant aroma that invigorated the senses and soothed the soul.

    "Ah, the sinful wealth--" Bryan, having reverted to his original appearance, sighed as he took in the ptial luxury that enveloped him.

    By the window, Draco sat up from his reclined position on therge bed, his face alight with excitement. He seemed to want to get out of bed to greet Professor Watson, but his Mother Narcissa Malfoy stopped him.

    "How are you feeling, Draco?" Bryan approached Draco''s bedside, stepping up beside Lucius. After nodding to Draco''s mother, he smiled warmly at Draco.

    In terms of sheer destructiveness, the Imperius Curse might be the most severe of the three Unforgivable Curses. However, its effects upon the victim were indeed the mildest. During Voldemort''s reign of terror, many wizards unwilling to join his cause had been subjugated by this curse, but after receiving treatment, they exhibited no serious lingering aftereffects. This was the reason Bryan had been willing to take a chance and not immediately rescue Draco.

    Draco''splexion looked healthy, no longer pale and dazed, though a hint of bewilderment still lingered in the depths of his eyes.

    "I did not expect your visit, Professor Watson. I am well--" Draco grinned, his demeanor cheerful. "The finest team of Healers at St. Mungo''s is clearly far more proficient and professional than the meager hospital wing at our shabby school. My parents spared very little money to ensure I received the utmost in attentive care, and I have mostly recovered. Well, not entirely¡ªI was..." Draco shuddered in terror at the mere mention of Peter.

    "Calm down, dear," Draco''s mother immediately embraced his head, gently patting his back in a soothing manner. "Don''t be afraid. You are safe now, and that dwarf who dared to harm you¡ªyour father and I can assure you, he will pay the ultimate price with his life!"

    Lucius, standing vigil at Draco''s bedside, clenched his fists and nodded in agreement.

    "I am fine, Mother!" Being treated in such a manner before Professor Watson stirred a sense of embarrassment within Draco, as if he appeared weak and vulnerable. He took a few deep breaths to suppress his difort, then gently extricated himself from his mother''s embrace and maintained aposed smile as he spoke, "There is a period of time whose memories remain hazy, Professor Watson. The Healers at St. Mungo''s said it''s best not to intervene artificially;those memories will gradually resurface on their own."

    "Indeed," Bryan nodded slightly in affirmation. "This phenomenon is not directly caused by the effects of the Imperius Curse itself. My guess is that Peter likely attempted to erase any memories of himself from your mind, but his attempts at casting a Memory Charm were quite inept and ultimately unsessful. As your condition continues to stabilize, those memories suppressed by magic will slowly emerge from the depths of your subconscious and resurface."

    Receiving Professor Watson''s reassuring confirmation, not only Draco but also his parents could not conceal the collective sigh of relief that escaped their lips.

    Although this ward wasvish beyondprehension, adorned with every conceivable luxury, his parents had never permitted Draco to venture beyond its confines, so to him, it was no different from a prison. His only way to pass the time was to read recent magazines and newspapers. The news from the past few days had been quite exhrating.

    "I heard you took down Greyback and nearly a hundred of his men, Professor. I''d wager if you were to take on the role of Headmaster at Hogwarts, you''d be far superior to Dumbledore. Is there a chance, I mean, of ousting Dumbledore? My father nearly seeded in doing sost year--"

    "Draco!" Before Bryan could give a response, Lucius''s expression hardened, his faceadopting a stern expression. "That is not something you need to concern yourself with."

    Draco immediately sobered, his demeanor bing somewhat sullen, but then he proceeded to inquire about the major and minor events that had transpired at school during the period he was under the curse''s influence, as the vast majority of his memories from that time remained shrouded in hazy obscurity.

    Bryan extracted his wand from within the folds of his robes, executing a subtle wave, and a high-backed armchair stationed by the firece responded with crity, its four legs kicking cheerfully as it hopped over,ing to rest behind Bryan''s waiting form.

    "Actually, nothing much happened--" Bryan plopped downfortably, crossing his legs as he smiled and described the events to Draco.

    "--Oh, just a bunch of cowardly, ipetent fools. I will make them look good!"

    Ten minutester, after Bryan had concluded his recounting of Draco''s treatment at the hands of his Slytherin housemates during the period he was under the curse''s influence, Draco fumed angrily, "Daphne, Theodore, Millicent¡ª who gave them the courage to keep ostracizing me like that!"

    Since Draco had returned to normal, Bryan had no intention of interfering in conflicts between students. He turned his gaze toward the extremely restrained Malfoy couple and smiled.

    "Well, you two, regarding the underlying circumstances behind Draco''s unfortunate attack, I trust Cornelius has already assigned relevant personnel to exin the situation to you, has he not?"

    The British Ministry of Magic maintained an exceedingly tight-lipped stance regarding the recent events that had unfolded. Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, had jointly issued strict gag orders to every single Auror present that fateful night. As a consequence, the ordinary wizarding folk and news reporters remained ignorant of the real information.

    However, it became evident that the renowned Malfoy family was acutely aware of the unfolding situation. It was shocking that Draco Malfoy, the sole heir to the Malfoy fortune and legacy, had been under the Imperius Curse cast by Peter Pettigrew for several months. Had it not been for the direct and timely intervention of Cornelius Fudge himself, the enraged Malfoys would have undoubtedly marched upon the grounds of Hogwarts.

    In fact, Lucius and Narcissa had known for a long time that Sirius ck was not the one responsible for the death of Potters. And They were not alone in this knowledge, as a select group of individuals, all former Death Eaters who had once stood in the inner circle of the Dark Lord Voldemort himself, shared this closely guarded secret.

    During the power struggle between Voldemort and Albus Dumbledore, these individuals had knowledge of the identity of their master''s spy within Dumbledore''s ranks. Thus, when Voldemort''s reign of terror came to an abrupt and unexpected end, and Sirius ck was astonishingly used of being the one responsible for the Potters'' demise, they found the situation utterly ludicrous and beyondprehension.

    Yet, as Voldemort''s downfall became a reality, these wizards and witches publicly denied any association with the fallen Dark Lord, proiming their innocence and disengagement from his nefarious activities. For the sake of their own safety and self-preservation, none of them dared to challenge Barty Crouch Sr.''s grave mistake in using the innocent Sirius ck as traitor.

    Last July, after Sirius escaped from Azkaban, the Malfoy couple privately discussed that Sirius could not have been after Harry Potter. But they could not specte the reason for his escape, as they were also unaware that their former ''friend'' Peter Pettigrew, was still alive.

    The world is an unpredictable and ever-changing tapestry of events, where even the most unfathomable urrences can unfold. Who could have foreseen that the young Draco Malfoy would be entangled in the bitter enmity that had festered between Sirius ck and Peter Pettigrew for so many years?

    Silence often speaks volumes, conveying unspoken truths and underlying currents of emotion. Bryan pondered for a moment, gazing at Lucius''s twitching eye, unconsciously exuding an aura of authority.

    "Regardless, Draco is a young wizard attending Hogwarts. He fell under Peter''s control, and the school bears an undeniable responsibility in this matter. As a gesture of apology and reparation, Hogwarts will cover all medical expenses incurred at St. Mungo''s for Draco, as well as for hispanions, Goyle and Crabbe, who currently reside in the opposite ward. I have already discussed this resolution with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall beforeing here. They will ensure that the Board of Governors approves this arrangement without dy."

    The Malfoy couple exchanged a fleeting nce, their expressions showing no outward sign of opinion or reaction to Bryan''s words.

    Bryan did not expect his statement to elicit overwhelming joy or gratitude from the Malfoy couple. Of course not. Although employing the finest team of Healers at the St. Mungo''s and securing a luxurious private ward would undoubtedly cost thousands of Galleons daily, such an extravagant sum was but a mere trifle to the immensely wealthy Malfoy family, hardly worth mentioning or acknowledging.

    ording to Lucius''s personal desires, only the resignation of Dumbledore himself could quell his anger.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0314 Request of Malfoys

    0314 Request of Malfoys

    ording to Lucius''s personal desires, only the resignation of Dumbledore himself could quell his anger.

    However, Lucius was shrewd and well aware that the actual circumstances surrounding the situation were far moreplex and intricate than they appeared on the surface. If Dumbledore or Bryan Watson were to be held ountable and forced to bear the burden of consequence for their negligence, then what of the Ministry of Magic itself, which bore an even greater responsibility in the chain of events that had unfolded?

    Should Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, and Barty Crouch Sr, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, also be expected to resign from their lofty positions in the face of such ountability?

    Lucius knew, with unwavering certainty, that such a notion was utterly preposterous and beyond his reach. Even Arthur Weasley, a mere well-connected veteran employee at the Ministry, possessed the capacity to make a mockery of Lucius; if he lost hisposure and allowed his temper to dictate his actions, let alone the two highest-ranking officials within the Ministry''s ranks. For their own self-preservation, if nothing else, those two would never permit Lucius to assert such a demand.

    Lucius and Narcissa did not care about Hogwarts''spensation; that was their business and Bryan, representing Hogwarts, still had to make the school''s stance clear.

    "It seems this cannot satisfy you¡ª" Bryan began, his voice calm and measured as his intertwined fingers came to rest upon his abdomen. The Malfoy couple stood before him, their ashen faces bearing expressions as if they were the ones apologizing to Bryan, rather than the other way around.

    "If you have any requests, within reason, feel free to share," Bryan continued, his tone inviting and open to their input.

    The Malfoy couple exchanged yet another nce, this time imbued with a flicker of emotion that passed between their intertwined gazes.

    "If possible¡ª" Narcissa Malfoy''s voice carried a hesitant quality, for thest time she hadid eyes upon Bryan Watson was during the previous summer at the Leaky Cauldron. At that time, she had been puzzled by her husband''s cautious demeanor and subsequent odd behavior when confronted with Bryan Watson''s presence. However, over the course of the past few days, she had finallye to understand the underlying reasons behind her husband''s uncharacteristic reactions then.

    Apart from the cruel Dark Lord Voldemort himself and the aging Albus Dumbledore, whose true strength remained unknown now, this young wizard, whose eyes radiated an intimidating gleam of power, was an exceptionally formidable figure within the entire European wizarding world.

    Narcissa Malfoy, herself hailing from a prestigious and noble family lineage, recalled their former Death Eaterrades and the members of the Order of the Phoenix, who had been sworn enemies of the Death Eaters. Yet, she could not identify a single wizard or witch whose magical prowess could rival that of Bryan Watson. His ruthless tactics in annihting Fenrir Greyback and his pack of savage werewolves had demonstrated, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was a wizard who disregarded the constraints ofw and possessed a cold-blooded, upromising nature.

    Thus, upon their next encounter, Narcissa found herself visibly subdued and uneasy in Bryan''s imposing presence.

    "We hope to have your support, I mean, in the uing matter of Peter Pettigrew," the beautiful Mrs. Malfoy stated, her expression twisted with a myriad of emotions as she spoke, her back turned towards her son Draco in an unconscious gesture of protectiveness.

    Bryan nodded, his understanding evident as he too fell silent, allowing the weight of her request to hang in the air between them.

    Narcissa had made her stance clear¨C she desired nothing less than for Peter to pay with his life for the harm he had inflicted upon her beloved son Draco. However, under normal circumstances, such an oue would prove very difficult to achieve.

    The circumstances listed within the wizardingw that permitted the application of the death penalty were primarily restricted to cases involving ''abnormals'' ¨C those beings deemed inherently dangerous or unnatural by wizarding society''s standards. In times of peace, it would be an arduous and near-impossible task to sway the Wizengamot to condemn Peter to execution, no matter how vehemently Narcissa demanded retribution. Deep down, she also understood that Peter would most likely only receive a life sentence.

    Yet Bryan''s position as a member of the Wizengamot court, coupled with his rapidly soaring reputation throughout the wizarding world, offered a glimmer of hope. If he were to openly voice his support for sentencing Peter to death,bined with the formidable influence wielded by the Malfoy family, sess was not an impossibility. However, Bryan did not wish to pursue such a course of action, as it would inevitably deplete and tarnish the ''good reputation'' he had.

    "Regarding this matter¡ª" Bryan''s voice cut through the weighted silence, drawing the Malfoy couple''s attention once more. To their surprise, he offered a slight nod of affirmation.

    "I will do it, but in my own way. Understand?"

    The intensity of Bryan''s gaze sent an involuntary shudder coursing through Lucius''s body. In that moment, he immediately understood that Bryan would likely refrain from directly advocating for Peter''s execution. Instead, he would ensure Peter''s demise through his own calcted means and methods.

    "As long as that bastard is punished¡ª" Lucius gritted his teeth, his voice a low, guttural growl resonating with unbridled fury and hatred towards the Dwarf.

    Draco, having remained silent throughout this exchange, blinked in confusion, unable to fullyprehend the gravity of the discussion unfolding between Professor Watson and his parents. Was there a possibility of Peter being released from all this?

    Before Draco could ponder the implications further, he witnessed Professor Watson rising from his chair. A single sentence slipped from his lips, bypassing the filters of his mind entirely.

    "May I make a request, Professor?"

    Receiving several astonished looks from those present, Draco realized the weight of his words and stammered, "If possible¡ª I¡ªer, I want to learn magic from you¡ª"

    To Draco''s relief, Professor Watson did not immediately refuse his request, and his gentle gaze gave Draco courage. Draco''s tone finally became fluent and confident.

    "That Peter Pettigrew, he instantly took control of me, Crabbe, and Goyle in the Owlery. I thought, if I had the ability to deal with him¡ª"

    "Draco!" Narcissa''s stern interjection cut through her son''s words, her maternal instincts ring protectively. "You cannot possibly deal with Peter Pettigrew. You don''t know what kind of person he is!"

    Observing Draco''s silence in the face of his mother''s authority, Bryan pondered for a moment before offering a warm smile and stating, "Hmm, I think I understand your meaning, Draco. Well¡ªI need to consider it. Once you return to Hogwarts, I''ll give you a response."

    As Bryan prepared to take his leave, Lucius escorted him towards the door of the ward. Standing at the threshold, the rarely humble Lucius lowered his head, his voice soft yetced with sincere gratitude. "I must express my gratitude to you, Mr. Watson. I had originally hoped you could only help find that Viper. But unexpectedly, you have fundamentally resolved the crisis for us by eradicating those filthy beasts of Greyback."

    "Hee¡ª" After a meaningless chuckle, Bryan turned to depart, pausing only to offer one final reassurance over his shoulder.

    "As for the matter of Peter Pettigrew, I will keep an eye on it."

    <strong>...</strong>

    Leaving the VIP area, Bryan walked down the stairs along the same path he came, still pondering the Malfoy family''s situation. This couple had a bad reputation in the wizarding world. After their former master fell from power, Lucius spent arge sum of his fortune to avoid legal punishment. This matter was not a secret in the higher echelons of the Wizardingmunity.

    They were staunch supporters of pure-blood supremacy, and one could imagine what choices they would make if their old master "returned to power"

    Unfortunately, that diary would create an irreparable rift in the hearts of this master and servant.

    Lucius Malfoy was a clever man, and he probably realized that, the diary was not ordinary. His contact with Bryan was meant to provide Draco with an escape route. After all, Voldemort was skilled at eliminating loose ends.

    Bryan didn''t mind showing some goodwill towards the Malfoy family as he also needed an insider among the Death Eaters.

    As he descended to the second floor, Bryan nced at the sign hanging on the wall that read ''Biological Hazard Department'' as he turned into the corridor.

    The atmosphere here was much more tragic. Most of the wards were filled with the sounds of painful moans. Healers in green robes hurriedly walked back and forth, their faces filled with anxiety.

    Bryan''s gaze swept over the cards embedded in copper frames hanging at the door. When he reached the back of the corridor, he found a sign that read:

    "Danger!

    Remus Lupin''s Ward: Serious Bites

    Attending Healer: Hippocrates Smethwyck;

    Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye."

    Bryan thought there would be an Auror guarding the room, but in reality, there was only Remus inside.

    Compared to Draco''s ward, this one seemed more normal. The small ward had three beds, but in reality, only Remusy on the bed closest to the window. The other two beds were empty, and the one in the middle had a neatly folded women''s nightgown on the bedside table.

    Remus was wrapped in bandages stained with blood, with only his eyes exposed as he stared at the Daily Prophet ced on hisp. He looked like a freshly unearthed mummy.

    "Good morning, Bryan," Remus swung his arm like a club, his tone rxed. "I was thinking yesterday when you would have time toe and see me. After all, you''re quite popr now."

    "Personally, I don''t want to attract attention wherever I go, so I have to change my appearance when I need to appear in public."

    Bryan smiled and walked briskly to Remus''s bedside. He noticed a half-consumed fruit basket on the cab next to the bed.

    "Oh!" Bryan raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I just came from Draco''s ward, and I just realized that maybe I should have bought some flowers. No wonder Draco''s mother didn''t look too happy when she saw me."

    "I don''t think it''s because you forgot to bring flowers," Remus chuckled.

    A hint of humor dispelled the faint gloominess in the room. Bryan didn''t sit down and stood in front of Remus''s bed, greeting him, "So, how are you feeling, Remus?"

    "It can''t get any worse, can it?" Remus shrugged, but the movement was too "bold" and it caused the bandages on his cheek to wrinkle. "I''m already a werewolf, I can''t transform again. The only problem is that the concentration of werewolf venom in the wounds is too high, affecting the healing process. I have to take a small dose of Wolfsbane every few days to control the venom in my body. It makes me feel lethargic all the time. The healers at St. Mungo''s told me that this condition mayst for a while."

    "That''s terrible," Bryan furrowed his brows, scratching his head in distress. "What about the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss? The students at the school are waiting for you to recover."

    "Bryan," Remus interrupted, his expression hidden behind the gauze, but Bryan was sure he was smiling helplessly.

    "You and I both know that I can''t go back to teach, right?"

    "Don''t mind me, it''s just a joke," Bryanughed heartily.

    Indeed, Remus could no longer return to teach at Hogwarts, and everyone understood that. The main reason he applied for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was to help catch Sirius ck. But now that Sirius had been proven innocent and Peter was under control, Remus had aplished his mission.

    Certainly, being a professor at Hogwarts was a job that could provide him with a decent life. However, Remus knew he couldn''t do it for long. His own danger couldn''t be ignored, and if one day his identity as a werewolf became known to the parents of young wizards, it would undoubtedly bring great criticism to Hogwarts and Dumbledore.

    Not to mention that Bryan would also be implicated.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0315 Plans

    0315 ns

    Not to mention that Bryan would also be implicated.

    Just think about it, the Director of the Hogwarts Student Safety Office, recipient of the Order of Merlin, First ss, a Wizengamot member, a senior advisor to the Ministry of Magic, and the hero who wiped out Greyback and his werewolf pack, actually ignored a werewolf by his side-How would the wizarding public react to this?

    Not to mention, the reality was that Remus couldn''t leave St. Mungo''s for the time being.

    "Well, it''s actually a good thing, Remus," Bryan said calmly, trying to dispel Remus''s inevitable disappointment. "At least you''re safe now. Think about Gilderoy Lockhart, his fate is much worse than yours."

    Remus was taken aback for a moment, then he realized what Bryan meant.

    "You mean, the curse Voldemort ced on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position? Isn''t that just a rumor?"

    Bryan nodded.

    "It''s a powerful curse, not easy to defend against." He saw Remus''s confusion and added, "I used a little trickst year to redirect the curse''s effects."

    Remus nodded, and the gloom in his heart dissipated somewhat. However, he suddenly remembered that when Bryan persuaded him to apply for the position of professorst summer, it wasn''t this exnation. Bryan must have still harbored resentment towards him for revealing his identity as ''Golden Viper'' to Dumbledore, so he used this as an opportunity to get back at him.

    Remus''s mouth twitched. He seemed to have said to Bryan at the time, "You''re a good person." Indeed,pared to this snake, he was too naive.

    Bryan guessed what Remus was thinking from his strange gaze, but he had ulumency and didn''t show any difort after being exposed.

    "By the way, what are your ns for life after recovery?" Bryan asked, a realistic and distressing question.

    Sirius ck was about to be proven innocent, Peter would never escape the Dementors again, and Harry''s safety would no longer be a problem. Everything seemed perfect, but his life had to go on.

    During these days lying in bed, Remus had been thinking, but he couldn''te up with any ideas. The eradication of the Greyback gang wouldn''t eliminate the prejudice against unfortunate werewolves who didn''t choose to be one. The Wizarding world under the sun still wouldn''t provide fertile ground for werewolf survival.

    "I have indeed considered this question," Remus said calmly. After all, his living environment had been like this for over a decade. The past six months at Hogwarts felt like a vacation, and now the vacation was over, and he had to return to the cruel reality.

    "After I''m discharged, I n to move in with Sirius for a while. I''ll try to find a job that is willing to ept a werewolf--"

    Although he said this, Remus did not have any expectations. He sighed and continued.

    "But if there''s really no one willing to hire me, then I''ll have to go back to my old life, back to the underground world, continue selling herbs and potion ingredients. At least, the Ministry''s control there is weak, and I don''t need to go through a bunch of permits and certifications."

    To be honest, looking at the embarrassing predicaments Remus has experienced throughout his life, it bes abundantly clear andprehensible why a substantial number of werewolves werepelled and willing to embrace the nefarious path of criminality under the leadership of the notorious Fenrir Greyback.

    Even in the entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic, there is a fountain filled with discriminatory symbolism, making it clear just how severe the wizardingmunity''s discrimination and oppression against half-breeds and sentient magical creatures has been.

    While many wizards who were inadvertently and tragically bitten, consequently transforming into werewolves, initially still adhered to uphold their moral principles and ethical standards. However, the bloody reality constantly impacts their hearts and tortures their nerves.Under the unremitting weight of such prolonged suffering, they would eventually reach an inescapable juncture where their resolve would falter, and they could no longer cling to their convictions.

    Not every individual possesses the unwavering resilience and conviction that Remus has.

    "What''s the matter?" Bryan inquired, as an uneasy silence descended upon him and Remus.

    In that precise moment, the door to the hospital ward creaked open, and a cheerful voice resonated from the entrance, "Am I interrupting a reunion between colleagues?"

    Nymphadora Tonks, her vibrant pink tresses cascading and a radiant smile illuminating her features, pushed the door ajar. She appeared entirely unfazed by Bryan''s presence, meticulously carrying a tray brimming with toasted bread slices, sulent sausages, and savory pies.

    Bryan immediately knew who the nightgown on the middle bed belonged to. He had thought it was left behind by a patient who had just been discharged. He turned his gaze towards Tonks as she breezed past him, naturally taking a seat on the edge of Remus''s bed, his mouth agape in astonishment.

    Tonks seemed intimately familiar with this routine,pletely disregarding Bryan, her former ssmate and the newly minted famous celebrity, as she ced the tray upon the bedside table. She retrieved a pillow from behind Remus and gently positioned it, enabling him to sit up in a more upright andfortable posture.

    "It''s not so bad to have bandages sometimes; it saves the trouble of tying a napkin," Tonks remarked cheerfully.

    "The pie today has a unique vor, Remus. It''s made with a lentil filling. Do you want to try it?"

    "Ahem¡ª" At this moment, Remus was extremely grateful that his face was wrapped inyers of bandages. Otherwise, he wouldn''t know how to face Bryan''s expression of "I don''t understand, but I''m shocked."

    "I''m not very hungry, Nympha-, I mean Tonks. You know, I''ve been lying in bed without much movement." Remus responded, his voice tinged with a hint of hesitation.

    "Alright then, how about two slices of grilled sausage¡ª" Tonks replied enthusiastically, her wand deftly sliding out from the confines of her sleeve as she tapped the te. The sizzling sausages promptly rearranged themselves into a neat stack, and without ceremony, she grabbed two slices and unceremoniously stuffed them into Remus''s mouth.

    "Actually--" Bryan interjected abruptly, suppressing the absurd expression that threatened to surface, "I came in a hurry this morning, and I haven''t had breakfast either."

    "Turn left in the waiting room on the first floor, proceed through the red wooden door, and venture fifty feet forward; there you''ll find the cafeteria, Bryan. Considering you recently donated a substantial sum to St. Mungo''s, I believe they would dly provide you with something to eat if you were to present yourself," Tonks suggested.

    "No, thanks. I''m already full."

    Seeing Bryan''s frustrated expression, Tonks giggled.

    "I''m just joking, Bryan. Here, have some bread."

    Although the bread smelled delicious, Bryan felt like he was chewing wax. He had felt a bit guilty towards Remus before. Although he took the opportunity to make Remus step down from the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but after all he had witnessed him being seriously injured that night. But now, the situation in front of him made the slight sense of guilt in his heart disappear.

    "It was the Ministry of Magic''s order for Tonks to stay here¡ª"

    Remus, who finally had his mouth free, hurriedly finished his sentence.

    "I know the truth about Sirius and Pettigrew, but the Ministry doesn''t want to make this public immediately. So, they simply arranged for Tonks to keep an eye on me. Moreover, the Greyback incident has pushed werewolves into the spotlight, and many residents who have suffered harm from werewolves have spoken out, while I happen to be an uncontrolled werewolf myself."

    "You haven''t harmed anyone, Remus!"

    Tonks interrupted Remus''s exnation with dissatisfaction evident in her tone.

    "The Ministry assigned me here to protect you, not to monitor you."

    A ray of sunlight shone through the window and fell on Tonks''s beautiful face shaped like a peach. She stared at Remus with her shiny ck eyes that kept flickering.

    "In fact, Remus, I don''t think you should feel distressed about your werewolf identity. Not everyone cares about it. Honestly, I think you''re very brave. If I had experienced what you have, I would probably have ended up in Azkaban."

    A palpable silence permeated the room, and Tonks seemed to be patiently awaiting Remus''s response in some capacity. However, Remus suddenly became interested in a chirping sparrow perched upon the windowsill, remaining resolutely mute.

    Perceiving this, Tonks exhaled a soft sigh and rose to her feet, solemnly retrieving the tray, her heart heavy. Bryan swiftly stepped aside, granting her unobstructed passage.

    "Oh, By the way¡ª"

    As the door was half open, Tonks seemed to suddenly realize there was another former ssmate in the room. She turned her head and shrugged, saying,

    "I don''t know how you managed to sneak in without causing amotion, Bryan, but there''s a guy named Annison downstairs in the first-floor waiting room, holding a notebook and asking around if anyone has seen Bryan Watson."

    With a decisive click, the door closed, leaving Remus and Bryan as the sole upants of the ward.

    "Tsk tsk¡ª" Bryan finally dared to show his presence, shaking his head and sighing profoundly.

    "You''re in trouble, Remus. I know Tonks. She may seem mischievous, but she''s stubborn and won''t easily give up on her decisions."

    "I think you misunderstood something, Bryan¡ª"

    Remus finally withdrew his gaze. He tried to conceal his loneliness, but there was a hint of heaviness in his voice.

    "These past few days, it''s just been me and Tonks in this ward. To pass the time, I told her about the ridiculous things I did with Harry''s father, Sirius, and that traitor when we were students at Hogwarts, as well as my way of life after that. Tonks is a very kind girl, and she has sympathy for me. That''s all."

    "Of course, that''s how it is," Bryan conceded, a mischievous glint flickering in his translucent purple eyes.

    "I didn''t say anything, did I?"

    Remus felt a lump form in his throat as he suddenly realized he had fallen into Bryan''s carefullyid trap once again. He pretended to be calm and changed the subject.

    "Speaking of which, what are the Ministry''s ns regarding Sirius and Peter?"

    Remus''s subject change was rather abrupt, but Bryan was aware of the emotional burden weighing upon him, and he did indeed believe that Tonks needed to reconsider her actions, so he acquiesced to the shift in conversation.

    "The Greyback incident has elevated the Ministry''s reputation to new heights. In a couple of days, they''ll first announce that they''ve captured the escaped Sirius ck and are currently interrogating him about how he escaped from Azkaban. Subsequently, they''ll inform the public that they''ve learned some crucial information from Sirius''s mouth, which the Ministry is verifying. Finally, they''ll bring Pettigrew into the open and hold a trial. It will probably take about half a month."

    Remus nodded, letting go of his worries about Sirius. And just as he was about to ask Bryan about Harry''s situation, he saw Bryan''s hand reaching into his pocket, groping for something. After a moment, a money bag appeared in Bryan''s hand.

    "If you want to help me pay for the medical expenses, there''s no need, Bryan¡ª" Remus smiled. "Tonks told me that the Ministry has already paid for my treatment."

    <strong>Thud!</strong>

    Bryan directly tossed the money bag onto Remus''sp. Feeling the heavy weight of it, Remus, who had been in pain, endured it and stared at Bryan in confusion.

    "I trust you haven''t forgotten the contract we signed, have you?" Bryan asked, his toneced with subtle implications.

    <em>''Contract?''</em>

    Remus was momentarily stunned, but then, a memory suddenly resurfaced in his mind.

    Last summer, he had indeed signed a magical contract with Bryan. At that juncture, they had agreed to coborate in the pursuit and capture of Sirius ck. If they were to seed, they would divide the Ministry''s reward money between them. So, this is...

    "Fudge is still trustworthy; he gave me this reward money along with Greyback''s bounty. You know, I donated Greyback''s portion to Hogwarts and St. Mungo''s, and Sirius''s reward rightfully belongs to both of us, so..."

    Remus stared at the money bag resting upon his thigh in a daze, while Bryan said with a smile,

    "The Golden Viper never goes back on his word, Remus, these ten thousand Galleons are yours now."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0316 Bad Luck

    0316 Bad Luck

    Bryan, who had be famous in the wizarding world, was busy dealing with the constant stream of invitations to parties and discussions. Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were not having a good time at school.

    Although the three of them imed to be fully recovered, Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping them in the hospital wing for observation. She forced them to drink strange potions and examined their pupils for any unsettling changes.

    Finally, a week after the werewolf incident, when the weekend arrived, Harry couldn''t take it anymore.

    "I swear, Madam Pomfrey, none of us were bitten by a werewolf!"

    "You can''t be sure of that!"

    Madam Pomfrey swiftly grabbed Harry''s eyelid, shining her wand''s light into his emerald eyes, speaking with evident displeasure,

    "You probably don''t realize the extent of the injuries you had when you were brought back. True, no bite marks were found, but studies have shown that werewolf ws can also cause pathological mutations. If we can''tpletely rule out this possibility before sending you back, imagine the havoc you could wreak in themon room or ssrooms."

    The thought of this possibility made Madam Pomfrey shudder. She released Harry''s eyelid and grabbed Hermione, who was trying to avoid her, to examine her eyes as well.

    "But-" Harry began, his protest hanging in the air, unfinished.

    Ron, who was waiting for his turn, pointed out sharply,

    "Sna- Professor Snape and Hagrid have already gone back, haven''t they? I mean, they were also injured, so why are you willing to let them go but keep us here?"

    "Oh, you must understand, Mr. Weasley-"

    Madam Pomfrey, while carelessly flipping Hermione''s other eyelid, said, "Professor Snape is proficient in potions, and those skilled in potions often have a knack for healing. He''s capable of determining any adverse changes in his condition. And Hagrid, yes, he was indeed the unfortunate victim of a werewolf''s bite, but Dumbledore has assured us that his unique bloodline bestows upon him a formidable resistance to that dreadful virus.."

    "Unique bloodline?" Harry echoed, his curiosity piqued as he paused from rubbing his eyes, fixing Madam Pomfrey with an inquisitive stare while she examined Ron.

    "Does Hagrid possess some sort of special lineage?"

    "Please don''t disturb me while I''m working, Mr. Potter."

    Madam Pomfrey said in a frustrated tone. Perhaps she was a little annoyed by Ron''s questioning, so she treated him roughly, causing Ron to gasp in pain.

    "But, Madam Pomfrey¡ª"

    Hermione, with red-rimmed eyes, pleaded pitifully, "We''ve already missed an entire week''s worth of lessons. Surely Professor McGonagall wouldn''t wish to see us fail every subject during the final exams."

    They were ultimately unable to convince Madam Pomfrey to let them leave, but she agreed to consult with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall during lunchtime.

    To prevent any potential danger from the three of them, Madam Pomfrey assigned them separate ward rooms and strictly forbade them from meeting other students. Even among themselves, they were only allowed to gather during examinations.

    However, these rules were rendered useless due to the presence of Harry''s invisibility cloak.

    Half an hourter, Harry and Ron reunited in Hermione''s ward room. She was studying her course materials on the bedside cab, ignoring their arrival.

    Harry and Ron didn''t mind enjoying a leisurely break in the midst of their urgent coursework, but being confined to the hospital wing for a whole week, cut off from the outside world, felt like being in prison.

    "I thought we would be praised¨C" Ron mused, his gaze fixed upon the cold, unforgiving ceiling with a lifeless expression etched upon his features, "But the school''s treatment of heroes is like how wizards treat boggarts, locked in a small, enclosed space?"

    Harry was also disheartened. The recent issues of The Daily Prophet had been dominated by Professor Watson''s stories about Peter and Sirius, without a single mention of them.

    "Objectively speaking-"

    Hermione, writing quickly with her quill on parchment, without looking up, said, "We didn''t really y a significant role that night, did we?"

    "Are you crazy?!"

    Ron''s cheeks puffed up in shock, and even Harry looked at Hermione in bewilderment, thinking she was delirious from not being able to attend sses.

    "Think about it-" Hermione calmly said, "We didn''t save Sirius. It was Hagrid, Professor Lupin, Professor Snape, and the centaurs who drove off Greyback. Of course, we caught Peter, but you have to understand that this is something we can''t talk about. After all, we didn''t go about it the right way. I mean, we used the Time-Turner."

    Harry and Ron exchanged nces, momentarily unable to refute Hermione''s point.

    "But¡ª"

    After a while, Ron finally came up with a good reason. He frowned and argued,

    "Hagrid, Professor Lupin, and Snape, they all entered the Forbidden Forest because of us, didn''t they? If we hadn''t broken the rules, Sirius would surely have died under Peter''s plot."

    Harry nodded in agreement, but then he realized that the reason they had run into the Forbidden Forest that night was because they had identally discovered Sirius lurking outside themon room. However, when they went back in time using the Time-Turner, ording to the Marauder''s Map, Sirius should have been lingering on the edge of the Forbidden Forest at that time. In other words, the ''Sirius'' who lured them there was likely fake.

    Ron, who didn''t apany them on the time travel, didn''t understand this detail, but with Hermione''s sharp mind, she must have realized that something was amiss.

    Hermione sighed but didn''t continue speaking. She had been worried about the Time-Turner.

    Previously, Professor Watson had taken the damaged Time-Turner from her possession, assuring her that he would attend to the matter, but he had not returned to the school for an entire week.

    "What''s that?"

    Hermione subconsciously nced under her pillow, and Harry, who was observing her expression, noticed a corner of a magazine sticking out from under the pillow.

    The scene felt familiar. Ron, quick as lightning, pulled out the book, blocking an annoyed Hermione with one hand while waving the magazine in the air with the other,

    "Witch Weekly, my mum likes to read this¡ª" Ron muttered, and then both Harry and Ron''s mouths twitched when they noticed the handsome, smiling wizard on the cover,

    "So, it seems¡ª"

    Ron wanted tough but didn''t dare, because Hermione was ring at him furiously, as if she wanted to devour him and Harry alive.

    "Professor Watson has inherited the mantle of that chatan Lockhart, and you''ve transferred your adoration from Lockhart to Professor Watson?"

    "That''s none of your business, Ron!" Hermione shouted angrily, snatching the magazine back from Ron''s hand, and for some reason, she feltpelled to exin, "Professor Watson''s knowledge is genuine!"

    Ron shrugged, "Why do you have to be so secretive? Last night, when Harry and I sneaked out, several Ravenw girls were loudly discussing in the corridor whether Professor Watson had a girlfriend. If you ask me, that''s just silly. Professor Watson wouldn''t be interested in a little witch with a face full of pimples."

    <strong>Bang¡ª</strong> Harry didn''t know which ho''s nest Ron had poked, but Hermione was clearly even more enraged, her amber eyes shining with a frightening light. Realizing the danger, Ron and Harry hastily retreated, tripping over each other and tumbling to the floor.

    "Potter, Weasley, what are you up to?"

    The door to the hospital wing suddenly burst open, revealing the stern face of Professor McGonagall, her lips pursed in disapproval and her gaze sharp as she surveyed the scene before her.

    "Madam Pomfrey told me that in order to prevent any of you three from encountering misfortune, she arranged for you to be in different ward rooms and did not allow you to visit each other when she was not watching. But obviously, you didn''t take her words seriously."

    Professor McGonagall stared sternly at Harry and Ron, who were scrambling to get up, and said sharply.

    Other than acknowledging their own bad luck, Harry and Ron had nothing to say.

    "Oh - Professor McGonagall -" Hermione stammered, "They both came to consult me about the lessons -"

    She raised the parchment on the bedside table, which was filled with two-thirds full of writing, her hand trembling slightly,

    "You know, we haven''t had sses for a week, and we''re all worried about falling behind, so when we don''t need to do physical examinations, we discuss together-- I mean, pre-study the new courses -"

    It turned out that when excellent students lied, they were more believable than poor-performing students. Harry could be sure that if he or Ron had said the same thing, Professor McGonagall''s expression would not have softened.

    "Alright--"

    Professor McGonagall''s shoulders rxed slightly, and she stared at Harry and Ron, mistaking the fear of being caught lying to Hermione on their faces as concern about falling behind in their studies,

    "During breakfast, Poppy left early to not dy the examinations for you three, so she didn''t hear the headmaster''s instructions. Albus believes--"

    Seeing the three young wizards'' eyes light up, her stern expressionpletely melted away, and she smiled and said,

    "He believes that a week of istion should be enough to show everyone that you three are safe, and it''s time for you to return to Gryffindor."

    Harry knew he should be more reserved, as Hermione thought, the only credit they had that night was capturing Peter Pettigrew, but that was something that couldn''t be mentioned. In the eyes of the professors, they undoubtedly caused trouble again by breaking the rules.

    But Harry couldn''t help but grin.

    He had spent the night in the hospital wing before, but never for such a long time and so difficult. He missed the four-poster beds in the dormitory, his roommates, and even the Bludgers in Quidditch. He even vowed that if he could leave the hospital wing and return to Gryffindor, he would be willing to attend eight Potions sses with Snape in a week.

    Or Professor Trwney''s Divination ss would be fine too, preferably Divination, because now Harry finally figured out the origin of the big dog he saw on Magnolia Crescent. He no longer had to fear that the nervous Divination professor would cast any "malicious" "curses" on him.

    "Of course, I personally think it would be more appropriate for you to leave tomorrow morning--"

    The following sentence from Professor McGonagall made the three young wizards'' joy immediately diminish by half.

    "And one more thing, Miss Granger¡ª"

    Professor McGonagall nced at thetest issue of The Witch Weekly on the bed, not minding how they got the magazine during their istion, "This morning, I received a letter from Bryan, who told me about the damage to your Time-Turner¡ª"

    Mentioning this, Professor McGonagall became angry again. She was ready to scold Hermione for not reporting the damage to the Time-Turner immediately after it happened, but seeing Hermione nervously clenching her fists and the worry in Potter and Weasley''s eyes, she couldn''t bear to be harsh and sighed softly before saying solemnly,

    "Bryan told me that he did some work in the department, and the Ministry of Magic has decided not to pursue the matter of the damaged Time-Turner, but they need you to write an exnation of how the Turner was damaged by Greyback. This exnation needs to be signed by both me and Bryan, and then he will submit it to the Ministry."

    "Is it that simple?"

    Ron, who had been forcibly enlightened by Hermione with a bunch of cases of wizards punished for losing Time-Turners, asked subconsciously,

    "There''s no need to be fined arge sum of Galleons and then spend a few months in Azkaban."

    "Normally, that would be the case¡ª"

    Professor McGonagall frowned and red at Ron, saying,

    "But obviously, Bryan has made some- Ahem! my point is, Greyback damaged the Time-Turner while trying to kidnap you in the Forbidden Forest, right? This reason is sufficient, and the Ministry will consider idental circumstances."

    The Time-Turner was not damaged by Greyback, but mysteriously broke after a time travel. Professor Watson also knew about this.

    Ron pursed his lips and didn''t say anything.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0317 The Muggles

    0317 The Muggles

    The Time-Turner was not damaged by Greyback, but mysteriously broke after a time travel. Professor Watson also knew about this.

    Ron pursed his lips but didn''t say anything.

    The Weasley family''s financial situation was indeed not good, but Ron was also from a ''Sacred'' pure blood family. Growing up under such influence, he had some understanding of the "behind-the-scenes operations" of the Ministry that couldn''t be put on the table. And Harry''s face also looked a bit unnatural.

    Sincest summer, when Professor Watson took him to the underground world deep in Knockturn Alley, he realized that the wizarding world was not as wonderful as he had imagined. Like the Muggle world, it was filled with darkness and injustice. Like the case of Hagrid and Buckbeak, so many young wizards had seen that Malfoy was injured by his own doing, but the Ministry still prosecuted Buckbeak under Lucius Malfoy''s influence, disregarding the facts.

    However, this matter has now been resolved as well.

    A few days ago, when Hagrid returned to school, he asked Madam Pomfrey to bring a message to the three of them: the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had decided to drop the charges, and ording to Hagrid, all this was thanks to Professor Watson.

    Powerful wizards have privileges.

    Professor Watson was like this, Headmaster Dumbledore was like this, and even the Malfoy family with its considerable influence was like this.

    That night in the Forbidden Forest, when Harry watched Professor Lupin and the others fight against Greyback up close, he was constantly frustrated that he couldn''t help. Now he discovered that Professor Watson had casually dealt with one difficult matter after another, and a small thought began to take root and sprout in his heart.

    The matter of the Time-Turner was properly resolved, and for Harry and his friends, it finally eliminated the consequences of the werewolf riot.

    To avoid being sent to Azkaban, after Professor McGonagall left, Hermione also kicked Harry and Ron out of her ward. All day long, she was busy with the statement for Professor Watson, and it wasn''t until bedtime, when Madam Pomfrey needed to do their final check, that they entered Hermione''s ward again, and the room, which had been clean and tidy in the morning, was now covered with parchment filled with writing.

    Hermione''s hair was disheveled, and she looked like she was about to copse.

    Harry and Ron each picked up an abandoned parchment and started reading,

    "Compared to your essays, your storytelling skills are much worse, Hermione."

    Ron couldn''t help butugh, and what he got in return was a re from Hermione in anger.

    "Ahem, do you need our help, Hermione¡ª"

    Harry suppressed hisughter and said,

    "You know, Professor Trwney''s Divination ss, toplete an assignment that satisfies her, it requires a bit of skill."

    Although they had only been in the hospital wing for a week, when Harry and the others stepped out of the hospital wing''s doors, they suddenly felt as if they were in a different world. Their anticipation burned like a raging me, and they ran through the corridors, eager to see their ssmates in the house.

    On Monday morning at 7:40, most of the young wizards gathered in the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry and the others had a clear goal, running down the spiral staircase to the first floor, and bursting into the Great Hall.

    But as soon as they entered, they immediately realized that something was off.

    At the staff table, apart from Snape, every professor, including Dumbledore, was holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, engrossed in the words on the newspaper, looking very focused.

    And the young wizards sitting at the four long tables below were in a simr situation. They gathered around those who subscribed to the newspaper, pointing and discussing the words on the paper.

    "What''s going on?"

    Harry and the others looked at each other in astonishment, slowly approaching their usual seats. When they passed by Ginny, who was huddled with Colin, Ron asked in bewilderment,"I thought we would be warmly weed!"

    Ron''s voice brought Ginny back to her senses, and when she saw Harry next to Ron, her face lit up with joy, but as she stood up, her lips turned pale,

    "The murderer of your parents, Harry" Ginny took the newspaper from Colin''s hands, her lips trembling as she said to Harry, "Sirius ck has been captured by the Ministry of Magic!"

    After Ginny''s voice trembled out those words, the Great Hall fell silent. Harry could feel the gaze of at least two-thirds of the young wizards upon him.

    "Show some reaction, Harry, you''re being too suspicious," Hermione whispered, nudging him in the back.

    Harry had never encountered such an awkward situation before. Sirius was innocent, he hadn''t betrayed them to Voldemort, they already knew that. But to his ssmates, Sirius was still the notorious prisoner and traitor, and ording to rumors, he had escaped from Azkaban to seek revenge on him because he was the "boy who lived" who had foiled Voldemort''s ns. So, um, should he act happy?

    "Oh, really?"

    Harry widened his eyes, trying to feign surprise and excitement about the news. "When did this happen, cough cough, well done¡ªI mean, the Ministry of Magic is good!"

    Ron pinched his own thigh hard, otherwise, he would probably be rolling on the floorughing. Hermione''s shoulder also trembled slightly, indicating that she was also struggling to hold back herughter.

    "The Daily Prophet mentioned it this morning¡ª"

    Neville stood up a few steps away, shaking the newspaper in his hand. "The Ministry has had him for a while now. The paper says they''ve been interrogating him, probably trying to figure out how he escaped Azkaban, after all, he''s the first to have done it¡ª"

    The gazes from students from all houses put pressure on Harry. He didn''t like being stared at like an animal in a zoo, so he quickly walked to the spot where Seamus and the Weasley twins had made room for him, took the newspaper from Neville''s hand, and buried his head in it. Hermione and Ron squeezed in on his left and right.

    "Any word on how they ''caught'' Sirius?"

    Ron, who had spent a week in the hospital with no taste due to the various potions, was eagerly stuffing his mouth with pies, his sense of bliss evident as he mumbled the question.

    "¡ªThey found him while searching for Greyback in the Forbidden Forest."

    Harry replied, his attention focused on the picture of Sirius in the middle of the newspaper. Sirius was once again dressed in a prisoner''s robes, but the injuries from that night seemed to have healed. However, his now plumper cheeks showed a hint of resignation, as he had yet to y his part.

    "ck''s destined to return to Azkaban, Harry. No need to worry about it anymore. Tell us about your duel with the werewolves. The whole school''s talking about it. Malfoy''s finished, they say Greyback mauled his mouth. Come on, Please, tell us that''s the truth!"

    "Pretty Much!" Ron managed to swallow the food in his mouth and said with a flushed face. He was about to tell everyone about Malfoy''s unfortunate encounter, but Hermione kicked him hard under the table, forcing him to keep quiet.

    One by one, students from Gryffindor and even Hufflepuff and Ravenw crowded around them, wanting to know what happened. At first, Ron tried to stick to the moral line and told everyone that Professor Lupin, and Snape, as well as Hagrid, had saved them. But after five minutes, he couldn''t resist anymore and started boasting about how he used a spell to cut off the ears of more than a dozen werewolves.

    "They can handle this situation, right?" Professor McGonagall worriedly said at the staff table. "Cornelius has made it clear not to reveal anything in advance, but it''s not easy. They are at the age where they love to show off."

    "Oh, how rare¡ª"

    Snape''s thin lips curled into a mocking smile on the other side, "For once, we agree on Potter and his empty-headed friends."

    "There''s nothing to worry about, Minerva," Dumbledore said, shaking his beard."I trust they''ll keep the secret. Speaking of which, does the statement Bryan asked Miss Granger to provide need my signature too?"

    "Oh, if you''re willing, Albus, I think it''s best you sign it."

    Professor McGonagall retorted, a bit annoyed after Snape''s jab.

    At the mention of Bryan, Snape fell silent. After a moment, amidst the pleasant sound of cutlery clinking against tes, Snape asked gruffly, "What''s he up to now?"

    "Sorry, Severus?" Dumbledore turned his head, blinking yfully. "Who are you asking about?"

    Under Snape''s cold gaze, Dumbledore smiled cheerfully. "If you''re asking about Bryan, um, I think he''s busy solving a little problem for himself. I sincerely hope that his approach will be more gentle. After all, times have changed, haven''t they?"

    As dusk fell and the evening lights flickered to life, the vibrant market in East London became a hive of activity. Restaurants and bars teemed with life, their warm glow inviting a diverse crowd. The air was rich with the aromas of ssic British dishes, sizzling Asian barbecue, juicy Latin American grilled meats, and an array of Mediterranean snacks. Many foreigners were drawn to this ce by its reputation.

    The passing Muggles could hardly imagine that two prominent figures from the wizarding world were right near them.

    By the roadside, there was a cafe with a retro decor. Bryan Watson and Amelia Bones sat facing each other on a wooden table, engaged in conversation.

    <strong>Suu--</strong> Bryan took a sip of the tea and ced the rare purple y teacup on the table in front of him. The dim light in the room reflected on his cheeks, outlining his gentle smile with a hint ofziness.

    "It''s surprising, Amelia," Bryan tapped the table with his fingers and then pointed outside the window. "As a renowned official in the Ministry of Magic, you know more about the Muggle world than I thought."

    "In the Muggle government''s records, I am a single middle-aged woman living alone," Amelia replied. During non-working hours, she had shed her intimidating appearance and was dressed in a loose green T-shirt and ordinary jeans, looking like an ordinary Muggle woman.

    Staring at the Muggle youths passing by outside the window, Amelia''s expression seemed somewhat mncholic.

    "You grew up in the Muggle world, Bryan. How do you see them?"

    "Admiration," Bryan fell silent for a moment, his gaze shifting to the window as he spoke softly.

    "Yes." Amelia took a deep breath and then exhaled, her tone as bitter as the tea in her cup, "Not just London, but also the Muggle societies of Europe, America, and Asia¡ªduring my years as the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, I''ve visited other countries'' Ministries for exchanges, and their situations are much like ours.

    Muggle society is evolving rapidly, and what they call ''technology'' has drastically changed their lives. They''ve achieved many incredible things that even wizards can''t do. They canmunicate across oceans, a single weapon can destroy a nation, they''vended on the moon¡­ And us wizards, for centuries, our society hasn''t fundamentally changed¡ªmany wizards born in the Muggle world quickly adapt to our world''s stubborn ways upon entering the wizarding world. They indeed integrate into our society, but they lose the enviable ambition and broad vision of Muggles¡ª"

    Bryan lowered his gaze, staring at the rippling tea in the cup, and fell silent.

    The wizarding world needs change, or one day the dignity and confidence of wizards will be shattered under the ''technological hooves'' of Muggles. This is the consensus of some enlightened individuals in the wizarding world, but no one knows where to start.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0318 The Revolution

    0318 The Revolution

    All along, Dumbledore had hoped that Hogwarts could amodate more Muggle-born wizards and witches. He wished that these young sorcerers, after entering the wizarding world, could subtly influence the stagnant Wizardingmunity and bring about a revolution through peaceful means¡ªor such was his idea.

    However, as Amelia said, the air of the wizarding world concealed something extremely stubborn and corrosive, and most Muggle-born children who aspired to survive in the Wizarding realm would inevitably be assimted by it.

    Bryan knew very well that Dumbledore''s ''novel'' idea was doomed to fail because he underestimated the potential of Muggles and underestimated the speed of progress in the Muggle world.

    Endowed with a almost godlike perspective, Bryan was acutely aware that as the 21st century dawned and Muggle society wholeheartedly embraced the transformative power of the information age, the once-formidable flexibility of magic would find itself increasinglypressed. It might well take less than a century, he surmised, for wizards to be utterly overshadowed by Muggles in every conceivable aspect.

    "The Statute of Secrecy, that has stood firm for three hundred years, is a solid cage," Bryan said, his words carrying a weight of conviction. "Everyone believes that it''s the Muggles who live in the cage, but in reality, it''s the wizards who are imprisoned, while Muggle society, undisturbed by the influence of wizards, has unleashed incredible potential."

    Turning his gaze towards Amelia, who listened with rapt attention, Bryan spoke with a lightness that belied the gravity of his words. "I''d wager my life on it, Amelia. There''s more than one Muggle nation''s government secretly employing technology to research weapons that could counteract magic. If they seed one day¡­ Have you ever been to a Muggle zoo? That will be our fate."

    <em>Animals in the zoo ¨C</em> the vivid imagery evoked a visceral chill that ran up Amelia''s forehead, causing her to shudder involuntarily.

    Amelia, asa high-ranking Ministry official endowed with foresight, was no mere mediocre, bottom-tier wizard in the Wizardingmunity. She knew, with a certainty that pierced her very core, that Bryan was not exaggerating.

    "Change is imperative¡ª" Amelia uttered wearily, massaging her temples in a futile attempt to alleviate the mounting pressure she felt.

    "Somebody has tried this before, but it failed," Bryan''s t tone elicited a visible twitch from Amelia''s eyebrow, her expression morphing into one of abject horror.

    "You mean¡ª"

    "Voldemort''s external propaganda is to restore the glory of pure-blood families, but anyone who has experienced the turmoil of the past twenty years knows that what he truly pursues is apletely chaotic Wizarding world and Muggle society," Bryan expounded, his words carrying a chilling certainty. "He seeks dictatorship, not transformation."

    <strong>Crash!</strong>

    The teacup before Amelia was suddenly, violently upended, its contents ¨C tea and fragrant leaves ¨C spilling forth onto the wooden table in a cascade of disarray.

    The pale-faced Amelia, herposure shaken, tried to retrieve the fallen cup, but her trembling hands and feet, uncooperative and rebellious, conspired against her efforts, rendering her attempts futile several times over.

    A waitress, stationed nearby, bore witness to this unsettling scene and swiftly made her approach, trying to help. Yet, upon glimpsing the indifferent, almost dismissive gaze of the young man seated across from the gray-haired woman, she found herself rooted to the spot, paralyzed by an inexplicable force.

    "We can handle it ourselves..." A maic, low voice resonated, and the startled woman, jolted from her trance, nodded vigorously, hastily shifting her gaze elsewhere.

    "You actually..." Amelia''s words trailed off, her mind grappling with the realization that the young man before her had dared to utter the name of the Dark Lord so casually.

    Bryan lightly tapped the table, and the tea water that had sshed onto the wooden surface and the stone floor disappeared silently, as if it had never existed. Amelia, having finally regained herposure, did not reprimand Bryan for his brazen disy of magic in in sight of Muggles. Instead, she patted her chest, staring at him with a mixture of incredulity and dawningprehension. Yet, when she saw the calm expression and inscrutable, unpredictable eyes of the young man seated across from her, she found herself unable to voice the questions that burned within her.

    Amelia realized, in that pivotal moment, that the young wizard seated before her was a prodigy whose name would ¨C no, had already ¨C etched itself indelibly into the annals of the Wizarding world''s history. A wizard as outstanding as Albus Dumbledore himself, would not be frightened in mentioning the name of ''mere'' He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

    Bryan didn''t care about the turmoil he stirred in Amelia''s heart by uttering ''Voldemort.'' Noticing her emotions stabilizing, he spoke indifferently,

    "What I refer to is Gellert Grindelwald, whom people called the Dark Lord earlier. He was a wizard with foresight and a unique vision. He foresaw that if wizards always remained immersed in the glory of bygone eras, trapped in the amber of antiquity before the Middle Ages, they would eventually be driven into a dead end by Muggles. So, he sought to initiate a ''transformation'' while Muggles were still powerless to resist."

    "But he failed," Amelia remarked after a momentary silence, her voiceced with certainty. "Dumbledore stopped him."

    "Even if Dumbledore hadn''t intervened, he would still have failed because he took the wrong path," Bryan criticized mercilessly. "The so-called ''deep-rooted resistance'' to acknowledging the rapid development of Muggles is not solely due to Wizards''s reverence for tradition or their arrogant pride. It''s because once revolution begins, it would harm the entrenched interests of pure-blood wizarding families.

    For hundreds of years, these traditional wizarding families have rooted themselves in the Wizarding world like towering trees, controlling every aspect of ordinary wizards''s lives, dominating the Ministry, public opinion, and even Hogwarts itself. War is bound to happen, but not like Grindelwald waging war against the Muggle world."

    Amelia had broached this topic with the subtle intent of revealing her own future political aspirations, believing that a word like "revolution" or "change" would hold great appeal for a young wizard of exceptional talent and Muggle origin like Bryan. Yet, she had not anticipated that she herself would be drawn into it by Bryan''s impassioned speech.

    She listened intently and solemnly to Bryan''s viewpoints. When she heard his unfinished sentence, a sense of dread welled up within her, and her expression became terribly unsightly.

    She understood, with a dawning rity, the implication behind Bryan''s words: under the current, fixed structure of the wizarding world, any attempt at radical reform was doomed to fail unless there was a war¨C an internal war to purge those pests from within the Wizardingmunity itself.

    "It''s difficult to do, Bryan," Amelia said with palpable difficulty, her voice strained by the weight of her own words. "No one... has that kind of determination...and Albus will definitely stop it,"

    Bryan toyed with the rim of the teacup, with a smile that revealed deep secrets on his face.

    "Yes, it''s difficult to do, but not impossible-" he remarked, his tone carrying a weight of conviction that sent a chill coursing through Amelia''s very being.

    "Out of chaos, stars are born.''"

    Bryan''s prating gaze settled upon Amelia, whose face was etched with suspicion and mounting unease. His smile, slightly nted, carried an undercurrent of cold calction.

    "Stitching and strengthening may preserve a structure, but grandeur arises not from mere repairs. Great Civilizations do not merely copse; they rise anew, phoenix-like, from the remnants of their past glory."

    In that moment, a primal urge gripped Amelia ¨C an urge to turn on her heel and flee, Or, at the cost of her very life, to draw her wand and arrest Bryan Watson then and there. In a daze, the Bryan Watson seated across from her seemed oblivious to the severe, potentially cataclysmic consequences his words would provoke if they were to spread. He would grow, she realized with dawning horror, into the next generation''s Dark Lord, far more terrifying than the wizard whose name must not be mentioned!

    The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was in turmoil, cold sweat dripping from her gray temples, forming a small puddle on her shoulder.

    If the person before her was not Bryan Watson ¨C the very same who had single-handedly wiped out the nefarious Greyback and was hailed by many news media as the most powerful wizard under Albus Dumbledore himself ¨C Amelia might not have felt such overwhelming weird fear. It was precisely because Bryan was a very powerful and well-known young wizard that she found herself gripped by fear, knowing full well that if Bryan attempted to incite a civil war in the Wizarding world, he was entirely capable of doing so!

    "Don''t worry, Amelia..." Bryan''s voice cut through the silence, a slight smile ying upon his lips as he observed the beads of sweat forming on Amelia''s eyebrows, and the constantly shifting expressions that danced across her face.

    "Up to this point, I''ve never had the intention to actively push for that ''Revolution'' in the Wizarding world. As you said, Dumbledore wouldn''t support it, and the environment of the Wizarding world wouldn''t allow it. But one day in the future, if the right momentes, I wouldn''t mind giving it a push."

    The conversation on this topic ended with Ameliapsing into a prolonged silence, but Bryan''s words still nted a seed in her heart, a seed that might sprout one day in the future.

    With the news about Sirius ck soon to be published, the hard-working Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement inviting Bryan for tea in the Muggle realm was not simply to cultivate friendship or discuss about change and revolutions.

    In fact, the two met here for other matters.

    A few days ago, at the press conference, Bryan''s brilliant improvisation left the scandal-hungry Rita Skeeter, who delighted in pleasing the masses, utterly defeated.

    However, Amelia had warned Bryan at the subsequent luncheon that Rita Skeeter was a troublesome sort who would not rest until digging up some sensational news from the now hotmodity Bryan Watson.

    And things unfolded exactly as she had predicted. On the eve of the Ministry''s release of the Sirius ck affair, Amelia received the news.

    It was now 9 p.m., an hour when any wizards still out and about in the Wizarding world generally had something sinister in mind. But in the Muggle world, the exciting nightlife was just beginning.

    Outside the shop window, the Muggle sidewalk was so crowded muggles were walking touching shoulder to shoulder in the sea of humans, while a middle-aged wizard wearing a light brown coat, clutching a tattered briefcase under his arm, with baldness more severe than Mr. Weasley, stood across the street, searching aimlessly.

    When he finally spotted Amelia and Bryan through the ss window, he was startled and started to push through the bustling crowd despite many resentful res, clutching his briefcase tightly as he made his way inside the Cafe.

    "Good evening, Madam Bones!"

    After much effort, the middle-aged wizard, wiping sweat from his forehead and panting, greeted Amelia and then turned his attention to Bryan, who wore a light smile. Before even sitting down, he eximed in a low voice, "Oh, what an honor, Mr. Watson, I didn''t expect you to be here!"

    "Allow me to introduce you, Bryan¡ª"

    Amelia pushed aside the unease and worry the previous topic had brought her, pursing her lips as her dignified demeanor returned to that of the renowned Head of Magical Law Enforcement, famed for her fairness in the wizarding world.

    "The editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet and an old friend to many of us in the Department, including myself, Mr. Barnabas Cuffe."

    "I''ve heard a great deal about you¡ª"

    Bryan''s hand met the awestruck Mr. Cuffe''s on the wooden table, shaking a few times before he said in a steady voice,

    "Yes, I had toe, Mr. Cuffe. Madam Bones informed me that the Daily Prophet will publish an article using me tomorrow morning, is that right?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0319 Small Troubles

    0319 Small Troubles

    Bryan''s hand met the awestruck Mr. Cuffe''s on the wooden table, shaking a few times before he said in a steady voice,

    "Yes, I had toe, Mr. Cuffe. Madam Bones informed me that the Daily Prophet will publish an article using me tomorrow morning, is that right?"

    "Oh, it''s just that madwoman Rita Skeeter''s nonsense ramblings!"Mr. Cuffe said excitedly, "Just ramblings, no one will believe it''s something you''ve done. Oh, but indeed, it''s a bit troublesome. Rita is quite famous, and ording to the rules of our paper, I can''t stop her article from being published, especially since some of the views in the article could indeed stir up controversy among the public.

    She submitted the draft to me early this morning. Rita had hoped this report would be published in today''s evening edition, but I dyed it under the pretext that the article needed proofreading, then immediately wrote a letter to Madam Bones. But I''m afraid that¡ªunless there''s a suitable reason, tomorrow morning¡ª"

    Amelia frowned.

    "Barnabas, tomorrow''s headline should be about the Ministry capturing the fugitive Sirius ck. You know, this matter has troubled Cornelius for a long time, and he''s eager to inform the public of the Ministry''s efforts to capture Sirius ck. This will only increase the Ministry''s soaring poprity after Greyback and his pack''s eradication and earn them more support from the people."

    "Ipletely understand, Madam Bones¡ª"

    Mr. Cuffe''s forehead was even sweatier than when he had pushed through the crowd, and he nodded vigorously in agreement.

    As the politically charged editor-in-chief of The Daily Prophet, he knew that dragging Bryan Watson through the mud at this time was tantamount to dragging down the entire Ministry of Magic.

    Although the Daily Prophet was also backed by pure-blood families, angering the Minister of Magic, who represented the interests of many, would not be wise.

    "¡ªBut, but I, I can''t, alone¡ªRita''s articles always catch people''s attention. If she doesn''t give up¡ª"

    Amelia''s frown deepened, and an aura of irresistible authority surrounded her. This presence spread, and in the serene atmosphere of the restaurant, the guests who were enjoying their conversations cast curious nces their way. They whispered among themselves, pointing towards the window, specting whether the inly dressed Amelia Bones was a high-ranking official in the Muggle government or perhaps a member of Parliament.

    "Well then, Mr. Cuffe¡ª"

    Bryan''s mild voice broke the tense atmosphere Amelia had created. Leaning back in his chair with a calm demeanor, as if Rita Skeeter''s article wasn''t causing him any trouble, he said: "May I have a look at Miss Skeeter''s article first? Ah, of course, if that''s not appropriate..."

    "Oh, of course not!"

    Whether it was the unruffled Madam Bones or the gentle Bryan Watson, both exerted tremendous pressure on Barnabas Cuffe.

    "You are a Senior Advisor to the Ministry and a wizard with a seat in Wizengamot. Since this article involves you¡ª"

    Cuffe wiped his eyebrow as he rummaged through his briefcase, hastily thrusting a bunch of parchments towards Bryan.

    "You have the right to review it!"

    The bundle of parchment Mr. Cuffe handed over was filled with borate, swirling handwriting, and the headline was also quite attention-grabbing:

    <strong>Bryan Watson - Hero Who Vanquished Werewolves or Vile Dark Wizard?</strong>

    <em>Bryan Watson, who defeated Greyback and his pack, may not be the gifted upstanding wizard everyone imagines, but is highly likely to be a dangerous Dark wizard</em>- <strong>Special correspondent Rita Skeeter reports.</strong>

    While the public in the Wizarding World cheers over Greyback''s downfall, one name is on everyone''s lips- <strong>Bryan Watson</strong>.

    Recently thrust into the public eye, Bryan Watson has acquired many titles in a short time that most can only dream of such as- Senior Advisor to the Ministry of Magic, Wizengamot seat holder, Honorary Vice-Chairman of the Anti-Dark Magic League, phnthropist (<em>donating to St. Mungo''s and the Hogwarts fund for impoverished students</em>). and the wizard recognized as the most powerful under Albus Dumbledore by many celebrities of the wizarding world.

    These dazzling, high-profile titles have left the public in awe, blindly worshipping the rising star of the wizarding world. But is Bryan Watson truly a selfless, upright wizard brave enough to confront evil?

    The Daily Prophet exclusively reveals that while a student at Hogwarts, Bryan Watson illegally sneaked into the Forbidden Forest at midnight <em>(we all know that vites school rules)</em> and directly seriously injured two young wizards through cruel means. Moreover, on that dreadful night, nearly ten young wizards were directly sent to the hospital wing because of Bryan Watson.

    Strangely, this incident did not receive widespread attention at the time, and there is reason to believe Albus Dumbledore carefully covered it up.

    "That night, there was a terrible fire in the Forbidden Forest that could not be no matter what."

    A wizard who experienced that terrible incident and has since graduated shuddered in an interview. This wizard was warned not to disclose the details of that dreadful ident, but after this reporter patiently persuaded him, he revealed the shocking truth:

    "That night, someone used the Killing Curse (<em>one of the Unforgivable Curses, using any one leads to Azkaban).</em> They said a dark wizard had infiltrated Hogwarts, but no clues were found afterwards."

    From what this reporter has learned, the Ministry did not conduct an in-depth investigation into that night''s events, and Bryan Watson, who caused dozens of young wizards'' to be injured, was merely given detention for a period of time.

    Furthermore, ording to Bryan Watson himself, two years ago hepleted modifications to make the strictly forbidden Fiendfyre Curse safe and reliable. But this reasoning seems unable to exin the<strong> ''Unextinguishable mes''</strong> that appeared years ago in that Forbidden Forest incident at Hogwarts.

    Moreover,st September, in the effort to capture Sirius ck after his escape from Azkaban, many Aurors from the Auror Office encountered a dark wizard at the ck family''s ancestral Manor. During the apprehension, one Auror was injured by the <strong>''Fiendfyre Curse''</strong>.

    <strong>....</strong>

    <strong>..</strong>

    <em>''Hmm, how interesting¡ª''</em>

    Ten minutester, after reading all the text, Bryan looked up under Mr. Cuffe''s careful watch, and under the dim light, he revealed an inscrutable smile.

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    <strong>Poof--</strong>

    In the profound, deafening silence of the inky, imprable night, a crisp, abrupt poof resonated through the utterly deserted street like a gunshot in a vacant cathedral. The specks of dust floatingzily in the stagnant air were violently disturbed, sent drifting aimlessly on unseen currents, while the stark, pale moonlight streaming through the gaps in the dense clouds cast an elongated, ghastly silhouette onto the pristine, undisturbed ground.

    On the weathered, rusting signpost by the roadside, the age-worn sign bearing the words <strong>''Budleigh Babberton Vige''</strong> indicated to Bryan that he had indeed arrived at his intended destination.

    Passing by a quaint, vintage phone booth with king red paint and a modest bus stop sheltering a solitary bench, a narrow yet perfectly straight road stretched out before him like an unwavering arrow, leading towards the sleepy outskirts of the secluded vige.

    nking either side of the vacant street stood orderly rows of identical houses, each one a mirror image of its neighbor, their uniform architectural style lending an almost oppressive sense of conformity. Despite the profound destion of the deep night, ethereal wisps of pale mist hovered atop each peaked roof and neatly trimmed hedge, as if the very stillness had taken a vaporous form. Tempted by the chill, restless breeze that wandered through this wilderness, the tendrils of fog constantly shifted and swirled, dragging the outwardly quiet, peaceful vige into an eerie, unsettling atmosphere more befitting a haunted hamlet.

    <strong>Quack, quack--</strong> The resounding chimes of the distant church bell cleaving through the silence at the stroke of midnight startled a gathering of ck crows perched upon the rusted crosses adorning the roof peaks. With a frantic flutter of wings, they took abrupt flight, disappearing like sinister specters into the fathomless depths of the night sky.

    <strong>Thud, thud, thud--</strong> The rhythmic footfalls seemed to echo the steady pace of the clouds scudding across the bright face of the full moon, alternately cloaking the world in luminous silver radiance and imprable shadow. As the clear illumination dimmed behind a bank of roiling vapor, the smothering darkness deepened its shroud over the vige. Bryan''s solitary figure came to a halt at the end of the narrow road, before a tidy little stone cottage nestled within a meticulously tended garden.

    Appraising this unassuming abode with a considering gaze, a faint, cold smile crept across the corner of the Golden Viper''s gloomy face, the expression shown by the swirling, sinister undtions of his potent magical aura.

    Just hours before, Bryan had been in one of London''s busiestmercial streets, having tea with the head of the Magical Law Enforcement and the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet. Now, after traversing nearly half the length of Ennd, he found himself in this remote, obscure vige tucked away in the pastoral countryside, all on ount of a particr article penned by the notoriously scandalous journalist, Rita Skeeter.

    With good intentions, Amelia offered to negotiate with Rita Skeeter herself to halt the publication of the article.

    Such matters were routine for the Ministry of Magic. Whenever a report threatened the Ministry''s authority, these high-ranking Ministry officials would leverage their influence and connections to prevent the article''s publication. Otherwise, once public opinion arose, the situation would be uncontroble.

    Bryan trusted Amelia''s ability to handle the situation, but he didn''t pass the task along. Instead, he insisted on dealing with it himself.

    Maintaining an air of mystery was the best way tomand awe and respect. Although the two were now partners, Bryan needed to demonstrate his capabilities to Bones at appropriate times. Hence, he proposed to handle the matter himself.

    However, judging by the guarded reactions and poorly concealed nervousness upon their features after knowing of his intentions, the two officials had no doubt suspected Bryan''s true purpose in paying ate night visit to the infamous reporter was to eliminate her by more..... permanent means.

    Of course, prior to this rtively insignificant article''s development into a controversy demanding immediate resolution, arranging for Skeeter''s quiet disappearance or negotiating her silence through more overtly unscrupulous methods would have been the conventional, prudent course of action. However, he disdained doing so, as Rita Skeeter did not carry that much weight.

    His primary purpose for appearing here tonight was to prove to Bones that he possessed the ability to resolve these situations.

    "Heh, just as expected of you--"

    Bryan murmured the words, his voice a hushed rasp scarcely louder than the whisper of the wind through the foliage. He remained motionless beyond the wooden garden gate, sharp eyes roaming over every little detail of the meticulously trimmed shrubbery and the rustic, two-story stone cottage itself, each block neatly stacked into an immacte, unified structure. After a moment of contemtion, his right hand, gripping his wand, emerged from beneath his ck traveling cloak.

    <strong>Swish--</strong> With a skillful, nearly imperceptible flick of his wrist, a vibrant blue ribbon-like streak of vivid luminescence erupted from the wand''s tip in a blinding re. The swelling coil twisted and spiraled through the air, rapidly swelling in mass and volume until the glowing fment had taken the form of a truly massive blue serpent, its coiled lengths encircling the entire house in an unbroken loop as one end remained tied to the tip of Bryan''s wand.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    In a thunderous detonation that reverberated through the air like the firing of a cannon, a ferocious windstorm erupted across the t expanse of earth surrounding the house.

    The previously beautiful scenery epassing the stone cottage and its adjoining garden was utterly transformed in the blink of an eye, the entire area now starkly illuminated by the pale, ghostly radiance of an immense, intricately inscribed magical runes. Its pulsing, arcane symbology suffusing the very air with an ominous, inky ck miasma that seemed to leech all warmth and cheer from the atmosphere. Faint, discordant howls, like the anguished cries of innumerable malignant spirits, assailed Bryan''s ears in an incorporeal cacophony.

    One after another, spectral figures resembling ghosts or Dementors emerged from the ck aura, their gaping maws lined with serrated teeth, charging menacingly at the intruder.

    Simultaneously, numerous miniature magical ward defenses materialized on the flower garden''s ground, unleashing a torrent of precast defensive spells upon Bryan like a fierce storm!

    "Heh heh, such a grand wee, I''m utterly ttered--"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0320 The Night Visit

    0320 The Night Visit

    Facing the magical traps capable of leveling a building as grand as Gringotts in an instant, Bryan remained nonchnt. A milky-white, indestructible magical shield appeared instantly, enveloping his body.

    The unceasing barrage of spells slowly eroded the ground beneath Bryan''s feet, inch by inch, yet he remained floating, protected by the bright magical barrier, as steadfast as a rock amidst a tempest.

    As the lights within the stone cottage began to re to brilliant life one by one in a gradual ripple, Bryan''s acute ears detected the unmistakable sounds of hurried movement from within -sneaky footsteps scurrying across creaking floors, the muffled crashes of shattered ceramics and overturned furniture in their panicked haste. Just as he prepared to call out a mocking greeting to the thoroughly besieged upants, the deep coffee hues and staunch stoneworkposing the structure at the far end of the blue serpent''s coil began to subtly fade and distort.

    Like a masterfully crafted illusion stretching to its utmost limits, the ancient manor seemed to shudder and twist unnaturally, straining against the immutable bonds of spatial reality itself as if being forcibly wrenched from its stubborn celestial anchorages.

    Like the ancient ck family manor, this historic house had simr defense mechanisms and wards. If a wizard attempted to break in, it would leave the normal space and hide in the untraceable currents of chaotic space. An ordinary wizard would certainly fail against such defensive magic, but unfortunately for the house, it faced The Golden Viper.

    The countless defensive spells exploded into brilliant fireworks around Bryan''s protective barrier. As dazzling as they were, the barrier began to tremble slightly. Still, Bryan did not withdraw his spells or strengthen his defenses. The blue ribbon from his wand tip held the stone house firmly in ce, preventing its escape.

    "Quick, leave through the firece!"

    Piercing through the continuous thunderous rumbling, a desperate, strained voice erupted from somewhere deep within the fraught dwelling in a shouted plea of desperation.

    "I don''t know who hase, but we definitely can''t handle him!"

    "Where to, my dear?" A broken, crying female voice came from the house, followed by a much younger, resolute girl''s voice, "I''m not going anywhere, Dad. I''m staying with you!"

    "Listen to me, Beatrice!" The first man shouted back, the sheer force of fear and urgency granting his tone a harsh intensity.

    "Go to the Hog''s Head Inn in Hogsmeade - the owner is an acquaintance of Dumbledore''s. Tell him we''re under attack, and he''ll inform Dumbledore immediately. Hurry, Beatrice! Dumbledore promised he would help us if we were ever in danger!"

    Despite the man''s frantic pleas, his twopanions seemed to have finally eded to his demands. Through the dim windows, Bryan saw the distinct green shes of Floo powder igniting in the downstairs living room as they attempted to escape via the Floo Network.

    <strong>Bang! Bang!</strong>

    The two thunderous detonations reverberated through the night air like the firing of cannons, instantly extinguishing the conjured mes as the terrified mother and daughter were violently expelled from the firece in an eruption of soot and pulverized masonry. Their bodies crashed against the opposite wall, copsing in a heap amidst the settling clouds of ash and scattered debris.

    Their attempt to flee through the Floo Network had failed, unsurprisingly. Since Bryan had sealed the house, he would hardly leave such an obvious loophole. Whether it was the Floo Network, Portkeys, or Apparition, they all fundamentally relied on spatial magic, and the blue ribbon enveloping the stone house had already cut off its interaction with the external space.

    The people inside the house seemed to have given up hope, embracing each other and crying as they said their final goodbyes.

    Bryan even felt a tinge of embarrassment. He came to ask for help in the first ce, and tried to do a ''harmless'' prank, but he had terrified them to this extent.

    <em>*scratching head awkwardly*</em>

    "Ahem--"

    A slightly sheepish cough cut through the thunderous roar, piercing into the house and causing the grief-stricken family to freeze. Then a familiar, aged voice uttered a sentence that twisted the face of the male homeowner''s face into a ghastly expression.

    "Is this how unwee an old friend is at your door, Kakus?"

    The ferocious gales howled through the night sky, violently dispersing the dense, ominous clouds that had gathered, allowing the magnificent moonlight to wash away the gloomy, oppressive atmosphere that had saturated the picturesque vige like a stagnant, murky pond. However, themotion and disturbance emanating from the ancient Fawley Manor was thoroughly concealed byyers of intricate magic, ensuring that the blissfully ignorant Muggle residents of the peaceful vige continued to slumber soundly.

    Kakus had arranged for his wife and daughter to stay in the room upstairs, sternly ordering them not to step out of the house. With a sense of urgency, he hastened down the winding, stone-hewn staircase that bent along the interior wall. As he entered the cavernous dining hall, his gaze fell upon Bryan Watson, who had shed his carefully-crafted disguise and was now leisurely surveying the ancestral manor with an air of nonchnce, a myriad of conflicting emotions surged through Kakus''s mind before finally manifesting as a wry smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

    "Mr. Watson¡ª" Fawley uttered, his voice reverberating through the spacious chamber as he casually retrieved a crystal-clear sk of amber-hued whiskey and two pristine sses from the ornately-carved cab that drew the boundary between the dining area and the adjoining living quarters.

    The rich, viscous liquid, akin to the deep crimson hue of blood, flowed smoothly into the awaiting vessels, and Kakus unhesitatingly extended one of the filled sses towards Bryan. After raising his own in a symbolic toast, he didn''t linger for his guest''s reciprocation, instead downing the drink in a single, continuous flow before exhaling a sigh of relief tinged with exasperation.

    "You didn''t have to go to such lengths, did you?" Kakus remarked, his tone tinged with bitter incredulity as he struggled to conceal the undercurrent of irritation that simmered within.

    "I just wanted to y a prank, Kakus, you''re just too nervous."

    Kakus: <em>*stare* *stare*</em>

    Bryan responded with an air of nonchnce, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of his recent actions, which could be taken as a brazen act of home invasion. He swirled the contents of his ss, scrutinizing the sediment that swirled within the amber depths illuminated by the dim yet steady candlelight, before bringing it to his lips and taking a measured sip, his eyes narrowing in an expression of unabashed satisfaction.

    "You have no idea of the fear we experienced in thest half-minute. I thought I was doomed."

    Kakus rubbed his sweat-drenched golden hair, his eyes still twitching unconsciously from fear despite mingling frequently in the darkest corners of the wizarding world.

    "Well, let us simply regard it as a harmless prank then, shall we? So, Mr. Viper, what brings you here sote at night? I don''t think it''s because you want to take on amission from me. After all, you''re already a prominent figure of power. If you wish, I''m afraid countless people would be willing to stuff galleons into your pockets!"

    Kakus mused with a wry, knowing smile.

    "It seems you still don''t truly know me, Kakus¡ª" Bryan retorted, a faint smile ying across his lips. "Gold offered freely on a silver tter holds no value or allure for me. I much prefer to exchange honestbor for tangible results."

    The sweet, tranquil sleep of thete night had been rudely disrupted by someone''s sadistic, morbid sense of humor, and Kakus, having emerged unscathed from what he perceived as a life-or-death ordeal, was in no mood to entertain Bryan''s frivolous attempts at jest and banter. Shaking his head in silent protest, he remained resolutely mute.

    "Well then, my apologies for disturbing your sleep, Kakus. There are indeed two matters that require our attention¡ª" Bryan stated, adjusting his posture as he prepared to address the matters at hand with a measured, sober demeanor.

    "Regarding themission I ced with you earlier, it has now been a full six months since our initial agreement. Have you managed to unearth any valuable information thus far?" he inquired, his tone tinged with subtle undertones of impatience and mounting curiosity.

    Last August, mere days before the end of the summer holidays, Bryan had enlisted Kakus''s services, hoping that the bounty hunter and mercenary wizards who roamed the globe in pursuit ofmissions could aid him in gathering intelligence about the elusive Druidic followers. He was well aware that this enigmatic group, relentlessly pursued by the Vatican and adept at concealing their movements, would prove exceedingly difficult to track, but after half a year of deafening silence, their inability to procure even a shred of news was indeed perplexing.

    Kakus, too, furrowed his eyebrows in contemtion. "It is indeed abnormal, Mr. Watson. You are well aware that the wizards who undertook thismission pride themselves on their prowess in gathering information. With their supposed formidable abilities, it should not have taken this long to unearth any leads or tidbits, unless¡ª" he trailed off, his voice tinged with hesitation.

    "Unless?" Bryan echoed, as an inscrutable expression flickered across his face.

    Kakus observed Bryan with a cautious, measured gaze before continuing, "These Druids have effectively concealed their tracks and are currently in hiding, deep within the confines of a certain forest, no longer venturing forth into the open. And the reason they have resorted to such measures, perhaps, is that they have done something which incurred the wrath of the Church."

    Bryan recognized the implication underlying Kakus''s prudent spection, and indeed, it was a reasonable deduction.

    That woman named Cliodna was no fool. She should have anticipated that her audaciousmission had profoundly offended and angered him, and should have logically concluded that he would not let such thing go. Hence, it made perfect sense for her to gather her followers and retreat into seclusion for a period, allowing the storm to pass and the dust to settle.

    Bryan nodded slightly. He knew that this matter couldn''t be rushed, so he didn''t press Kakus further.

    "There is another matter that needs to be resolved tonight, Kakus¡ª"

    Bryan dered, a faint luminescence flickering to life as a neatly folded stack of parchment materialized within his outstretched palm, a duplicate copy of Rita Skeeter''s report that he had obtained from Barnabas Cuffe.

    "Take a look at this, Kakus."

    Bryan threw the stack of parchment to Kakus, then remained silent, enjoying the whiskey that Kakus had served him.

    Kakus didn''t dare to neglect. He unfolded the parchment, and as his eyes fell on the headline, he raised an eyebrow in surprise. He nced at Bryan without showing too much astonishment and proceeded to read the rest of the report.

    "Rita Skeeter''s report, ah, I see. She does possess a certain degree of fame and respect within ourmunity¡ª" Kakus pondered aloud, his tone pensive and contemtive.

    A minuteter, having thoroughly digested the contents of the parchment, Kakus lowered the report, his appearance betraying no outward signs of shock or concern; such a trivial secret was hardly earth-shattering or explosive to one like Kakus Fawley, who was privy to countless unspeakable secrets harbored by the wizarding world''s most renowned and influential figures.

    After a momentary pause to gather his thoughts, Kakus tentatively inquired, "Do you require my assistance in suppressing the publication of this article-"

    "Not assistance, Kakus¡ª" Bryan interjected, setting his ss down upon the polished oak surface with a dull thud that reverberated through the cavernous chamber. "I am well aware that the Fawley family is one of the shareholders behind the Daily Prophet. I do indeed require you, in your capacity as a member of the board of directors, to prevent this article from being published. But it''s not help- it''s amission, and I can provide the reward."

    Though the Fawley family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood Family, may no longer wield the same degree of prestige and influence as they once did in ages past, a Sacred pure-blood family was still a pure-blood lineage, filled with its own storied heritage and connections.

    "I can indeed exert my influence over the affairs of the Daily Prophet," Kakus agreed after a moment''s contemtion. "However, the Fawley family''s shareholding in the Prophet is not substantial enough to singlehandedly sway such matters. The Greengrass family and the Burkes have much....Very well, I''ll make a trip."

    After pondering for a moment, Kakus made the decision.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0321 Favors

    0321 Favors

    After pondering for a moment, Kakus made a decision.

    For a wizard like Bryan Watson, who held significant sway in both the Underground world and the world above, the chance to owe him a favor was not easy toe by. If he could seize this opportunity to solidify their friendship, it might potentially save the entire Fawley family in the future.

    Kakus was a man of action. Recognizing that, ording to the established rules, Rita''s provocative article was scheduled for publication in the next day''s edition, he wasted no time in departing his ancestral home via the Floo Network in the dead of night to engage in delicate negotiations with the tworgest and most influential directors presiding over the Daily Prophet''s operations. In a remarkably brief span of time, merely half an hour, he had returned, with the signatures of the patriarchs of the two Sacred pure-blood families, effectively authorizing the suppression of the article.

    Kakus also wrote his own suggestions on the note. He had originally nned to send the order from the board of directors to the newspaper through an owl, but considering that tomorrow''s paper was already being printed, he made another arduous trip.

    It was only when the moon began to wane that the matter was finally settled.

    Bryan watched all this, knowing that Kakus wouldn''t go to such lengths for a few galleons. The reason he did so was merely in the hope that Bryan would remember this favor, and if one day the Fawley family faced danger, he would lend a helping hand.

    "Alright¡ª" Bryan announced, rising to his feet as he gently massaged his whiskey-overloaded stomach, offering a grateful nod of acknowledgment towards the visibly exhausted Fawley.

    "I will remember this, Kakus."

    "It is an honor to be of service to you, Mr. Watson," Kakus responded, his expression one of sincere gratitude and humility.

    Bryan knew that he wasn''t a good guest because he hade to his housete at night, causing Kakus''s wife and daughter to tremble in fear in their and unable to sleep in room upstairs. So, after everything was settled, he prepared to leave.

    "Please wait¡ª"

    But as Bryan was about to step out of the door, Kakus suddenly called out and followed him from inside, holding the notebook he usually used to recordmissions, and asked with a ''shy'' smile,

    "Well, Mr. Viper, do you have any ns to take onmissionstely?"

    Upon hearing the unexpected request to take on a newmission, Bryan was struck by a wave of surprise that momentarily left him stunned and motionless, his mind racing as he tried to process the implications of this sudden proposition. However, after a few moments of stunned silence, the fog of bewilderment lifted, and he came to the stark realization of what was happening.

    For the past half year, he had been living afortable ''retirement'' life at Hogwarts, almost forgetting about his "actual job". However, aftering back to his senses, Bryan didn''t immediately respond. Looking at the expectant face of Kakus, he pondered for a moment.

    Kakus surely knew that he was currently entangled in various affairs. Even if Kakus desired to earn a brokerage fee from him, he wouldn''t choose such an inconvenient time. It seemed likely that Kakus had encountered a particrly challengingmission.

    Indeed, Kakus was not the sole activemission broker operating within the shadowy underground world of the British Wizarding Society. There existed a fiercepetition within this industry, with brokers vying for the most lucrative contracts and the most skilled mercenaries to fulfill them.

    For an exceptional broker such as Kakus, the most crucial aspect of sess was the ability to wield influence and control over a vastwork of resources.

    Not only was it essential to have ess to a diverse array of task resources, but the resources of the bounty hunters and mercenaries themselves were equally vital. Without a constant flow of highly skilled and aplished mercenaries at one''s disposal, even the most promising ofmissions would be rendered futile, as there would be no one capable ofpleting the task, ultimately eroding the broker''s credibility and reputation over time.

    "What''s the matter, encountered some trouble?" Bryan inquired.

    "Indeed, Mr. Viper, it''s a rather troublesome matter" Kakus sighed deeply, his tone and demeanor reflecting the gravity of the situation while maintaining a clear distinction between personal favors and the professional realm of business transactions. "I''m sure you haven''t forgotten Thanatos Hord?"

    At the mention of that name, Bryan''s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening as a palpable sense of surprise and caution permeated his tone, "Thanatos? Has he posted amission with you?"

    "Precisely, Mr. Viper. A rather difficult task, I must admit," Kakus responded, rubbing his temples in a gesture of exasperation and weariness. "You surely remember the task of retrieving ancient artifacts from the depths of Egypt. When younded back in Ennd, you and the team led by Scrimgeour had a fierce battle. In that fight, Scrimgeour destroyed Thanatos''s bone dragon. As you know, Mr. Viper, Thanatos is an ancient necromancer whomands undead creatures. Losing that bone dragon significantly weakened him."

    Kakus paused briefly, allowing the weight of his words to sink in before continuing, "Not long after that mission, Thanatos posted amission with me, expressing desire to acquire the skeletal remains of a Dragon. But as you can surely imagine, this is no easy task, as wild dragons are not only extremely dangerous and formidable, but they are also protected magical creatures, closely guarded and monitored by the magical departments of various countries across the globe. Even after their death, the disposal of their bodies is subject to stringent regtions and strict monitoring. And the skeletons ofmercially bred dragons, while more readily avable, are far too weak and fragile to meet Thanatos''s requirements."

    Kakus nced discreetly at Bryan, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes as he continued, "Mr. Viper, I vaguely recall that a couple of years ago, you sessfully obtained a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon egg from the Norwegian dragon natural reserve and even slew a fearsome Norwegian Red Scale dragon. Might you, possibly, still possess any of the valuable materials or remnants from that¡­?"

    "s, I have already sold off the valuable materials acquired during that time," Bryan replied, pursing his lips in a slight grimace of regret. "As for the skeleton itself...I abandoned it in the reserve."

    At the time, he indeed had not realized there was a market for such things; otherwise, he could have earned some extra bucks.

    "What a pity," Kakus sighed once more, his expression mirroring the disappointment and regret that Bryan had just expressed. "Well then, Mr. Viper, I must inquire ¨C are you interested in epting thismission and undertaking the task of procuring a dragon skeleton for Thanatos?"

    "How much is he willing to pay?" Bryan asked with interest.

    "Six thousand Galleons!" Kakus swiftly responded, seizing upon the glimmer of interest that had flickered across Bryan''s face. "If you can provide a recently deceased dragon skeleton, Thanatos is willing to offer this substantial sum as payment. Of course, we are all well aware that the base value of a wild dragon skeleton far exceeds this mary figure, and as such, Thanatos has expressed a willingness to supplement the financial reward with valuable items from his personal collection, or perhaps even rare magical artifacts. However, if the skeleton you acquire has been deceased for a longer period, the reward may need to be significantly reduced to ount for its diminished potency and quality."

    Bryan nodded slightly, considering the price to be fair.

    To be honest, Bryan didn''t expect Kakus to present such a task. If it were any other task, he might not have been willing to help.

    After all, times had changed, and Bryan had now "gone legit". Getting too involved with the underground world still carried risks, risks that he was no longer as willing to take as he had been in his younger and more reckless days. Moreover, his magical prowess had stabilized after several years of rapid growth and development, and engaging in duels with mediocre wizards no longer offered him the same thrill or opportunity for self-improvement that it once had.

    With the sessfulpletion of the dormitory building at the orphanage, the financial pressures that had once weighed so heavily upon him also had been alleviated, diminishing the need to exert himself and ce himself in harm''s way for the sake of mary gain through the eptance of dangerousmissions.

    But This mission also involved Thanatos, which was quite a surprising coincidence, as Bryan happened to need his help with something.

    "Very well, Kakus, I ept thismission," Bryan agreed in a calm and measured tone, his words sending a wave of tion and relief coursing through the seasoned broker, who now knew that his reputation and credibility would remain intact with the involvement of the Golden Viper.

    "But what about Thanatos himself?" Kakus inquired, a hint of uncertainty lingering in his voice.

    "Don''t worry, Kakus," Bryan responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I willmunicate directly with Thanatos and handle all arrangements personally."

    Kakus remained motionless for a few moments, leaning against the weathered door frame as Bryan''s final words echoed in his mind.

    "Directmunication," he murmured under his breath, furrowing his brow in contemtion.

    In the world of undergroundmissions, it was an established and adhered-to agreement that the client and the contractor of a task never met directly; any issues or details regarding the nature of the task were conveyed through the intermediary of the broker, ensuring ayer of anonymity and deniability for all parties involved. And Bryan, despite being an ''old-timer'' in the underground world, had just brazenly disregarded this fundamental rule with a nonchnt wave of his hand. This tant disregard for the established protocols left Kakus unsettled and nervous, his mind packed with unanswered questions and lurking suspicions.

    As the news of Sirius ck''s capture by the Ministry of Magic spread like wildfire throughout the Wizarding world, it was akin to a massive stone being hurled into the depths of ake, sending ripples of shock and uncertainty radiating outwards in every direction. The frenzy and upheaval caused by the eradication of the notorious Fenrir Greyback and his pack of ruthless followers had barely begun to subside and now another storm was brewing.

    The reporters and journalists from various nations across the globe, who had only recently visited the United Kingdom to seek exclusive interviews with Bryan Watson, had barely returned to their respective homnds before receiving urgent summonses to rush back to Ennd. The allure of covering this unfolding media frenzy proved too tantalizing to resist, and they feared missing even the slightest detail or piece of information that could potentially boost their careers to new heights.

    For several consecutive days, the entrance to the Ministry of Magic was besieged by a veritable horde of these frenzied reporters, all jostling and moring for position as they attempted to confront any Ministry official they could locate, desperate to glean any valuable information or insight that might shed light on the circumstances surrounding Sirius ck''s capture.

    However, apart from the official statement published in the widely circted Daily Prophet, the Ministry of Magic remained resolutely tight-lipped, unwilling to offer any formal response or additional statement on the matter. Furthermore, the Ministry also categorically refused to any requests from reporters seeking to interview ck directly, citing the ongoing and sensitive nature of the investigation.

    Rampant spection and spection began to circte, with some suggesting that the Ministry of Magic had fabricated a sensational lie in a desperate bid to put an end to the relentless pursuit of the elusive Sirius ck and the embarrassment his continued evasion had brought upon them. Yet, even in the face of such usations, Cornelius Fudge, himself, remained unwaveringly resolute, refusing to loosen his lips or provide any additional information beyond his public statement that ck was undergoing rigorous interrogation by the Ministry, and that the exact truth would be revealed to the public once all the facts had been rified and the investigation had run its due course.

    Nevertheless, such vague and nomittal statements did little to satisfy the voracious appetite of the journalists assembled, who remained utterly unsatisfied and determined to uncover everyst sensational detail, no matter how tiny or seemingly insignificant.

    With each passing day, the number of senior officials from the British Ministry of Magic who found themselves besieged by veritable hordes of reporters encamped outside their private residences continued to grow, as the predatory members of the media sought any path, no matter how tenuous, to unearth inside information or exclusive scoops.

    As the uing events involved the internal conflicts and power struggles that had long festered beneath the surface of the Ministry, Bryan wisely chose to distance himself from the increasing turmoil and media circus.

    He did not return to Hogwarts either, opting instead to secure amodations at an inconspicuous hotel in the heart of London, where he could observe the unfolding drama from a safe ce while awaiting the inevitable moment when Peter Pettigrew would be thrust into the public eye.

    In the short-term, as he bided his time, Bryan upied himself by diligently responding to the flood of fan mail that continued to pour in from admirers across the globe, each seeking a personal connection or expression of gratitude from the man who had be an international icon.

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    On one particrly sunny morning, after partaking in a leisurely breakfast, Bryan returned to the sanctuary of his hotel room, his mind already turning towards the task ofposing a thoughtful response to a letter from the American Magical Congress, which sought his expertise and guidance on the most efficient methods for hunting and eradicating the threats posed by werewolves and vampires.

    <strong>Knock, knock¡ª</strong>

    As he settled into afortable chair, parchment and quill in hand, prepared to begin writing his insights and rmendations, an abrupt and insistent knock upon the door shattered the tranquil atmosphere, foreshadowing the arrival of an unexpected visitor.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0322 Rita Skeeter

    0322 Rita Skeeter

    <em>''Rita Skeeter?''</em>

    Even before the rhythmic rapping on the thick wooden door reverberated through the room, Bryan was acutely aware of the identity of this unannounced visitor.

    To be honest, Bryan rather appreciated certain qualities exhibited by this female reporter. Putting aside what happened on the day of the press conference, the fact that Rita Skeeter could unearth the obscure details surrounding the dark wizard attack incident that urred during his student years at Hogwarts within a mere matter of days, meticulously tracking down those who had borne witness to that incident, all in an unwavering pursuit of unearthing sensational topics about himself ¨C this unwavering dedication was, if nothing else,mendable.

    Especially since she had perceptively seized upon the ''Fiendfyre'' as her lead, associating him with the dark wizard who had audaciously attacked the ck Manor in Grimmauld Square the previous year, an event that had sent shockwaves reverberating through both the Muggle government and the wizarding world alike. Such sharp and prating thinking, Bryan had to acknowledge, was an increasingly raremodity.

    <strong>Knock, knock, knock!</strong>

    Another urgent burst of insistent knocking came from the other side of the door. Rita Skeeter seemed very certain that someone was present in the room, taking on an attitude of not leaving until the door was opened.

    Bryan raised a perplexed eyebrow, pausing for a contemtive moment, before rising slowly from his seated position and making his way towards the door, ultimately acquiescing to her persistent demands and allowing it to swing open.

    Rita Skeeter''s appearance was not much different from thest time at the press conference, except for a brightly colored shirt. At the moment, her left hand was carrying the distinctive crocodile skin handbag, and her fist was clenched in mid-air, making a swinging motion.

    Bryan could probably guess that Rita Skeeter had already learned about him using the Daily Prophet''s board of directors to suppress that article, because this woman''s expression, which she had not yet had time to conceal, bore obvious anger. But then, realizing that the door was open, she switched to a delighted expression.

    "Ah, Mr. Watson, locating your ce of residence has proven quite the formidable challenge, even for an experienced journalist such as myself. Oh, but as a renowned celebrity, I''m quite certain you don''t recall our previous encounter," she grimaced, her toneced with equal parts mockery and sickly insincerity.

    "In fact, you left a rather deep impression on me, Ms. Skeeter,"

    Rita''s height barely reached Bryan''s chin. He looked down at this uninvited visitor, not giving a pleasant expression despite some appreciation, but rather frowning slightly, trying to exhibit the reaction of someone unwilling to be disturbed when faced with harassment.

    Rita Skeeter behaved as if she were an old friend who had known Bryan for years. Without any restraint, she peeked her head past Bryan, shamelessly exploring the room. When she noticed the thick stack of letters waiting to be replied to at the foot of the desk, her eyes lit up, showing great interest.

    "You''re replying to your fans, right? Oh, it''s silly to chat outside the door. Why can''t we go in and talk?"

    After saying this, without waiting for Bryan''s response, she squeezed past him and quickly walked towards the desk filled with letters, apparently intending to take a peek at the contents of the letters before Bryan could react.

    But s, her brazen attempt was destined to fail. Before she had even traversed half the distance to the desk, the unfolded letter resting atop the ss coffee table suddenly animated, folding itself into a precise square before slipping neatly into the awaiting confines of the open envelope at its side. Simultaneously, the drawer of the desk yawned open with a snap, and the remaining letters vanished from sight, whisked into the drawer''s depths and neatly arranged, the drawer mming shut with a resounding bang,pletely cutting off Rita Skeeter''s prying eyes

    "I don''t remember inviting you into my room, Ms. Skeeter."

    Bryan put down his wand and spoke unkindly.

    "Based on your behavior just now, I could very well restrain you and send you to the Ministry for detainment for a period of time, ording to both Muggle and wizardingws--"

    "Oh, don''t be so dreadfully formal, Bryan!"

    Rita Skeeter grinned exaggeratedly. She surveyed the room, quickly locking onto the outdoor balcony behind the curtains, with its ss coffee table and two wicker chairs. She opened the floor-to-ceiling ss door, tossing her leather handbag onto the table before running her fingers through her golden curls.

    "Why are you lingering in the door, Bryan? We''re about to conduct a highly anticipated interview!" She bared her lips, her three gold teeth gleaming in the sunlight.

    "You''re quite interesting, Ms. Skeeter--"

    Bryan half-closed his eyes and chuckled softly. He didn''t attempt to drive her away further but, instead he closed the door behind him and walked towards the balcony.

    By the time Bryan had settled into one of the wicker chairs, Rita Skeeter had already produced her quick-quotes quill and a fresh piece of parchment from her handbag, clearly intent on documenting their impending conversation.

    "Bryan, I''ll be using the quick-quotes quill for notes, you don''t mind, do you? This way, I can free up my hands to have a proper conversation with you."

    Bryan gestured that he didn''t mind, maintaining a pleasant smile on his face, but there was no trace of amusement in his eyes.

    "I won''t mind where you found out about my residence, Ms. Skeeter. As a well-known journalist with professional integrity, I assume you have your ways. But I''m curious, why did you waste your time on me? I mean, I''m already ''outdated,'' right? The current trend is Sirius ck, and your colleagues are trying hard to find out the inside story of his arrest from the Ministry of Magic--"

    Rita Skeeter raised a heavily drawn eyebrow.

    "Don''t underestimate yourself, Bryan. People are still very interested in you, and Sirius, he''s the one who''s truly outdated."

    Bryan pursed his lips and didn''t speak, because he noticed that the green quill was writing frantically on the parchment spread out on the ss coffee table:

    <em>In this conversation that was achieved after going through various difficulties, Bryan Watson tried to steer the topic towards the current hot topic of Sirius ck''s arrest. The young and handsome face showed a nonchnt expression, but the strange purple eyes shed with a light that told the writer that he was afraid of something. Perhaps he was afraid the writer would bring up the article that should have met the public long ago, revealing some horrifying truths, but ultimately disappeared quietly in the face of power.</em>

    "Huh, how interesting--" After meeting Rita Skeeter, Bryan uttered this remark for the second time.

    "You went through all this trouble just to defend yourself, Ms. Skeeter? over the article that exposed the ''truth''?"

    Bryanced his fingers together, his smile growing cold.

    "I did it not to solve my own troubles, Ms. Skeeter, but to prevent you from making a mistake. Not to mention that there is no evidence in your article that connects me to the dark wizard whomitted a crime outside Grimmauld ce in the outskirts of London. As for what happened that night when I was at Hogwarts, your article didn''t have a single word that was close to the truth, Ms. Skeeter. If that article were to be published, I would have taken action to protect my reputation."

    Rita Skeeter was an experienced and tough-talking journalist. Throughout her career, she had interviewed officials from various magical ministries and prominent figures in the wizarding world. She could always seize control of the conversation, gradually causing even the most influential ''big shots'' to falter under her sharp questioning, ultimately breaching their defenses.

    However, Bryan seemed to bepletely indifferent to her "impressive reputation." This young wizard carried a heavy aura that suppressed her, making it impossible for her to "freely express herself."

    "Henry and Grace--you surely remember their names, Bryan. Two innocent young wizards were seriously injured by you. That''s the truth, isn''t it?"

    Rita stared at Bryan''s eyes without blinking, her face with arge chin showing a stiff smile.

    "The truth?"

    Bryan was amused.

    "Ms. Skeeter, someone like you should understand that the truth is always a rtive term. And whether it''s you or the people in the wizarding world, what they pursue is never the ''truth''."

    Rita finally realized one thing, that the young man sitting across from her, who would probably be in a lesser-known department doing menial tasks if he were in the Ministry of Magic, or running errands everywhere, Bryan Watson, was not the kind of brainless "fool" she usually encountered.

    He was very intelligent and alert, and most importantly, Bryan had an astonishingwork of connections in the Wizarding world.

    You see, even if the Minister of Magic wanted to remove her article from the Daily Prophet, it would not be a simple task. But ording to the information she had gathered, Bryan Watson had somehow managed to order the newspaper to withdraw her article, even though the next issue was already being printed inrge quantities.

    "I don''t understand what you mean, Bryan," Rita raised her heavily drawn eyebrows, wiping away the smile that had disappeared from her face due to the thickyer of powder, and her eyes became cold.

    "Our readers have the right to know the truth, Bryan, and my job is to uncover the truth."

    In the ensuing silence, Rita''s quill began fabricating again:

    <em>When the author asked about the shocking assault on ssmates that happened at Hogwarts during that year (the specific details will be attached to the report), Bryan Watson, who gained fame by annihting Greyback, denied it vehemently and reacted with strong outrage. This makes us suspect the true nature of this hero, who is shrouded in a halo of heroism.</em>

    Bryan shook his head disappointedly.

    He had invited this journalist in to have a good conversation with her and establish a certain level of friendship, but he had not expected Rita Skeeter to be so stubborn in wanting to spread rumors about him.

    "I think it was a mistake to start this conversation, Ms. Rita Skeeter," he said calmly.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    Under the radiant rays of the sun filtering through the windows, the ss coffee table, reflecting the luminous beams, suddenly erupted in a ze of mes. Rita Skeeter leapt to her feet, frantically attempting to rescue her prized crocodile skin hand-bag and her trusty quill, which had been resting upon the table''s surface, from the me. However, the mes were so intense that, in the blink of an eye, all her possessions had been reduced to mere ashes.

    Mere momentster, the mes dissipated as abruptly as they had appeared, leaving the ss coffee table and the potted nt adorning its surface wholly intact. As a gentle breeze wafted through the room, the remaining ashes swirled and danced, ultimately escaping through the balcony railing and disappearing from sight entirely.

    "How dare you do this, Watson!"

    Rita Skeeter, who had interviewed countless famous wizards in her career, had never encountered such brazen audacity. She red at Bryan with a malicious look.

    "Watson, you will pay for your actions, I swear, you will be ruined!"

    "Leave, Skeeter, I have other things to attend to, so I won''t personally see you out--"

    With a casual wave of his hand, the door to the room swung open automatically, and Bryan calmly uttered his dismissal.

    If Rita Skeeter understood the operating rules behind the peaceful and harmonious facade of the wizarding world, both on the surface and underground, she would not have done anything foolish out of impulse. If she was not clear-headed enough, she would not only ruin her career, but also face a fate as bad as or worse than that guy who was also a best-selling author.

    Rita Skeeter left angrily, mming the door shut as she left.

    Bryan just shook his head lightly and proceeded to his desk, where he resumedposing the reply he had been forced to interrupt.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0323 Revenge?

    0323 Revenge?

    Rita Skeeter was furious, mming the door shut as she left.

    Bryan just shook his head lightly and proceeded to his desk, where he resumedposing the reply he had been forced to interrupt.

    Rita Skeeter, standing in front of the door, had a pale face and was panting.

    "Damn Watson. No one has ever dared to do this¡ªintercept my reports, destroy my things!"

    Rita''s eyes, filled with malice, fixed on the door as she plotted her next move.

    "There must be something shady going on, right? Oh, of course, that''s a given. These influential figures are all cut from the same cloth. It''s never easy to uncover the truth, and Watson is so mysterious, no one knows what he has been doing in the two or three years since he left Hogwarts. There''s something fishy here."

    Before visiting today, Rita Skeeter had investigated Bryan Watson, who suddenly appeared in the public eye, but the results of the investigation were not very satisfactory.

    All the information she could find was about Bryan Watson before he graduated from Hogwarts. After graduation, untilst year when he was hired by the Hogwarts Board of Governors to search for the Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets, Bryan Watson seemed to havepletely disappeared from the wizarding world, and there was no information avable.

    Bryan neither chose to work in the Ministry of Magic nor held any positions in the famouspanies in the wizarding world, and he had cut off all contact with his former ssmates.

    There remained only one usible possibility: Bryan Watson had returned to the Muggle world and ceased all interaction with the wizardingmunity.

    But was that possible? For a wizard of great power to leave the wizarding world and mingle with Muggles was as inconceivable as a centaur leaving the forest to make a living in Diagon Alley.

    And how did he establish connections with those influential figures?

    There was only one possibility, he had hidden his identity and had been secretly working for those decadent pure-blood families, and corrupt politicians who were just figureheads.

    A gleam of satisfaction shed in Rita''s eyes as she believed she had discovered the truth of the matter.

    But shecked crucial evidence now.

    Rita was not one of those clueless rookie journalists. She knew what kind of report could attract the public''s attention. It wouldn''t be enough to rely on rumors; there had to be some truth in the lies to make it difficult for people to distinguish between truth and falsehood!

    Rita''s eyes sparkled with a mischievous light as she remembered the pile of letters on the desk in the room.

    "You will soon pay the price."

    After making up her mind, Rita''s expression became cheerful. She disdainfully nced at the door, then turned and walked away with an arrogant stride.

    If a few harsh words were enough to make Bryan tremble in fear and live in constant anxiety, he likely wouldn''t have slept a wink over the years. Rita''s visit was just a minor incident he soon put out of mind.

    Perhaps because the letters had been cleared out, the desk in the room looked much neater. ncing at the clock on the wall, where the hour and minute hands were frozen, Bryan stretched and yawned, closing the magic book in front of him.

    Late February, in the middle of the night, the gentle breeze wafting between the tall buildings was already mixed with the rich scent of spring.

    Standing on the balcony, looking out, the quiet city was still brightlylit, and even the clear moonlight from the bright moon melted into the murky glow.

    Perhaps it was because he had been preupied with many things recently, his head would intermittently feel swollen, and when the difort disappeared, deep fatigue would follow.

    A wizard with extraordinary magical power should have an abundance of energy that ordinary people could not reach. This phenomenon was unusual, indicating that there was some problem with his body, and the problem had already begun to show its severity.

    "I''m getting old."

    Bryan chuckled self-deprecatingly, then turned and walked into the room, closing the ss door and lying down on the bed, closing his eyes to rest. However, from the slight twitching of his eyebrows, it could be seen that he was probably enduring something.

    Thest light in the hotel building finally went out, and on top of a pine tree in the courtyard below, a chubby beetle, notmonly seen at this time of year, took off with a flutter of its wings, flying swiftly towards the room that had just gone dark.

    The beetle perched on the top of the ss railing, and when it saw that the room''s upant had alreadyid down through the gap in the curtains, the buzzing sound of its trembling wings revealed its joyful mood.

    It behaved patiently, not attempting to break into the room immediately, but instead pretended to crawl up and down the ss panel like a normal beetle, feigning interest in the mosquito carcasses stuck to the ss railing.

    There was still no sign of any disturbance in the room. After twenty minutes, the beetle could no longer contain itself andnded on the balcony floor. Taking aim at the gap between the sliding door and the floor, it charged forward, trying to squeeze into the room through the crack!

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    In an instant, a burst of firework-like mes dazzled, and the thunderous explosion caused the nearby rooms to tremble with a rattling sound. The rooms, previously dark, lit up one after another, and people panicked and ran around, screams filling the air. People on the Third or Fourth floors were shouting that there had been a gas explosion!

    Looking at thepletely shattered ss door and the reinforced ss railing, as well as Rita Skeeter, with half her body hanging hundreds of feet in the air, her golden hair and cheeks charred ck, her mouth spewing ck smoke as she fainted, Bryan raised an eyebrow and revealed a strange smile.

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    <strong>...</strong>

    In the aftermath of the earth-shattering announcement by the British Ministry of Magic that the notorious Sirius ck had been sessfully detained and taken into custody, a veritable tidal wave of reporters descended upon the Ministry''s entrance hall, swarming in from across the European continent and even the far reaches of the Americas.

    These bold journalists were utterly determined to uncover every miniscule detail surrounding ck''s capture, as well as the unfathomable means by which he had managed to plot his escape from the Azkaban prison in the first ce. With an insatiable hunger for information, they relentlessly attempted to approach and interrogate every single employee of the British Ministry who dared to pass through the crowded lobby.

    However, the specifics of this highly sensitive matter remained shrouded in an imprable veil of secrecy within the uppermost echelons of the Ministry, and apart from the select few Aurors who had been entrusted with the responsibility of guarding the captured Sirius ck, as well as the privileged department heads involved in the operation, the vast majority of Ministry workers remained utterly oblivious to the greater facts of the unfolding saga.

    Even the sociable Mr. Weasley, a man who could typically rely upon awork of well-ced friends spanning various ministerial departments to keep him up-to-date of thetest developments, found himself at an utter loss to understand the seemingly inexplicable surge in efficiency that had gripped the typically overstaffed and lethargic British Ministry in recent days.

    Then, in a moment that would permanently etch itself into the collective consciousness of the wizarding world, Barty Crouch Sr., an esteemed member of the Wizengamot and the head of the International Magical Cooperation Department, dropped a bombshell with a grim expression that left everyone stunned. The Ministry, already wobbling on the brink of overcrowding, exploded into utter pandemonium as reporters from the most renowned newspapers across Europe and the Americas promptly abandoned their current assignments and embarked upon a frenzied exodus towards London, desperate to be among the first to break this momentous story.

    Unable to force their way into the Ministry''s overstuffed confines, these legions of journalists instead converged upon the surrounding streets, effectively blockading the entrance to the British Ministry of Magic in their relentless pursuit of answers. Themotion they generated was so huge, that even the journalists from several prominent Muggle newspapers, bewildered by the inexplicable gathering of oddly-attired foreigners upon an otherwise unremarkable street, hurried to the scene in the hopes of unraveling the mystery.

    Norrus used a stern gaze to drive away the reporters seeking information about the foolish Sirius ck, as well as the former "hero" Peter Pettigrew, who had been awarded the First ss Order of Merlin by the International Confederation of Wizards, only to have that unceremoniously stripped from him a mere three hours after Crouch''s shocking announcement of his seeming resurrection from the grave.

    "Ah, Norrus, thank you--"

    With a sh of emerald fire in the firece, a sweating Mr. Weasley stumbled out, nearly falling to the ground, but Norrus supported him with his tall frame.

    "Hello, Arthur," Norrus acknowledged with a curt nod, his expression etched in unyielding coldness.

    "It seems the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office has been exceptionally busy these past few days?"

    "Perhaps," Mr. Weasley replied weakly, too utterly drained to even considerining about the upheaval wrought by the flood of foreign journalists. He mustered a feeble smile and asked, "These neers aren''t quite ustomed to our rules. By the way, are you heading out for work?"

    "No¡ª" Norrus said in an emotionless tone, "I''m off duty."

    With that, he lowered his head and stepped into the roaring mes of the firece, disappearing from sight in an emerald ze.

    <em>''Off duty?!''</em> Mr. Weasley mused enviously, casting a mournful nce at his watch, which proimed the hour to be 10:30 AM.

    <em>''Why, oh why, had I never tried applying for the Department of Mysteries all those years ago?''</em>

    <strong><-Diagon Alley-></strong>

    Norrus Deman emerged from the public firece, neatly brushing the soot from his garments before casting a wary, scrutinizing gaze about his surroundings to ensure he had not been followed. Satisfied with the absence of any potential pursuers, he set off at a brisk pace towards a secluded alleyway situated not far to the west of the magnificent white Gringotts building, whose towering presence could be discerned from virtually any vantage point within Diagon Alley.

    However, Norrus''s destination was not the wizarding bank, but rather an obscure yet infamous alley thaty in its foreboding shadow ¨C the dreaded Knockturn Alley.

    As he slipped through the narrow passage, the very sky above seemed to darken ominously, the air growing thick with a faint yet oppressive sense of malice. Yet, rather than recoiling from this sinister atmosphere, Norrus instead visibly rxed, his demeanor akin to a fish finally returning to the familiar embrace of the sea after enduring hours under the merciless re of the sun.

    After confirming that no one was spying on him, Norrus flipped his wrist, and a ck traveling cloak draped over his forearm.

    Putting on the cloak and donning his mask, Norrus let out a heavy sigh and rxed. The cold and emotionless face hidden behind the mask became somewhat cheerful. For Norrus, raised from a young age to embrace the ancient traditions of the Unspeakables, the modern wizarding lifestyle held noforts whatsoever. It was the filthy, dangerous underground world that brought him true joy and contentment.

    If it weren''t for his mentor''s insistence that he take over the position of the Unspeakable, and the fact that working in the Department of Mysteries did offer some conveniences, he would never have associated with those wizards who had forsaken their honor.

    The underground world, which had hardly changed for hundreds of years, obviously wouldn''t undergo any unexpected changes in the few weeks he had been away. Everything remained the same, chaotic yet orderly.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0324 The Trade

    0324 The Trade

    The underground world, which had hardly changed for hundreds of years, obviously wouldn''t undergo any unexpected changes in the few weeks he had been away. Everything remained the same, chaotic yet orderly.

    On the far side of the Commission wall, two wizards were engaged in a lively skirmish, the powerful gusts of their shing spells extinguishing scores of the suspended torches that hovered in midair, their flickering mes snuffed out in an instant. Those few souls brave or foolish enough to venture near this impromptu battlefield swiftly altered their trajectories, giving the trouble spot a wide spot. Norrus nced at it and noticed that Kakus Fawley was hiding behind a tall mission board, looking helpless.

    After a moment''s thought, Norrus decided not to approach Kakus for information.

    Instead, he turned sharply to his right, following the winding course of a stone staircase that appeared to have been painstakingly carved into the very fabric of the wall itself. He came to a halt upon a raised tform, standing before a crude firece that had been embedded into the rock face.

    The fireces of the underground world functioned quite differently from their above-ground counterparts, more akin to Portkeys capable of magically transporting one to various locations.

    Norus retrieved a scrap of parchment from his pocket, noting the firece number he should use and the coordinates of its exit point. Kakus had sent this via owl - on the other side awaited the wizard who had epted hismission.

    While wall fireces were typically used for emergency transportation, few wizards used them to locate transaction sites. But Norrus found nothing unusual about this, as the item he was about to trade was sensitive and massive, and appearing suddenly in the underground world without caution might attract the attention of the Aurors stationed here.

    Thinking of the Aurors, Norrus''s mouth twisted into a grin.

    Not to mention the embarrassment Rufus Scrimgeour, as the head of the Auror Office, had faced at the highly publicized press conference over the past two weeks.

    Despite being the Head of the Auror Office, he had made no progress or achievements in the recent series of events. For some time now, Scrimgeour had been wearing a gloomy expression that never seemed to dissipate.

    After configuring the string of characters above the firece''s mantle, the dim hearth erupted with an eerie emerald ze. Norus inhaled deeply, pocketing his wand from Ollivander''s and instead retrieving a staff tipped with a crystalline orb.

    The situation on the other side of the firece was uncertain, and he had to remain vignt.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    A menacing torrent of me erupted from the ground, and countless illusory shadows shed before his eyes. But in an instant, the scene before him froze.

    Norrus found himself situated amid a cluster of towering, cloud-piercing peaks, surrounded on all sides by a tapestry of lush, rolling mountainsides. He stood upon a tiny isletposed of weathered yellow rock, no more than a hundred feet in diameter, surrounded by the ssy surface of a crystal-clear alpineke whose mirrorlike waters perfectly reflected the low-slung nket of clouds that cloaked the heavens.

    <em>''Where is this ce?''</em>

    The thought shed through Norrus''s mind, and the scene before him seemed familiar, but for a moment, he couldn''t remember where he had seen it. However, at that moment, a loud rumbling came from several peaks away, making him understand his approximate location.

    The thunderous roar of the Hogwarts Express echoed between the towering mountains. The mist expelled by the train''s engine dissipated quickly in the howling mountain wind, but the heavy rumbling of the train''s body rolling on the tracks lingered between the steep mountains.

    "This ce¡­ isn''t far from Hogwarts."

    Norrus murmured softly, his eyes tensing¡ª''<em>could this be a trap? Dumbledore, that troublesome old man, was at Hogwarts. Who would be foolish enough to choose this ce for a transaction?''</em>

    Just as he hesitated and contemted whether to run, the ground and theke suddenly trembled violently. A deep and powerful magic surged from the bottomlesske, staining this bright world with darkness.

    In the sky above, the white clouds floating above the mountaintops seemed to be drenched in arge pot of ink, instantly turning dark. Within the heavy leaden clouds, ominous lightning flickered!

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    A dazzling thunderbolt struck the turbulentke, and this seemed to be a signal. Following that, dozens, of terrifying lightning bolts struck one after another. For a while, the vastke was filled with countless flickering electric lights.

    The sight before him turned Norrus''splexion pale, and he gasped in shock, so stunned that he even forgot to escape using apparition!

    At this moment, a huge vortex appeared in front of him, and he immediately realized that there was a colossal creature hidden in theke, and now, this creature was about to reveal its true form.

    What kind of thing could cause such terrifying changes in nature and celestial phenomena?

    Fear filled Norrus''s mind as he stared fixedly at the gradually clear ck shadow. Unconsciously, a hint of anticipation appeared in his eyes.

    <strong>Snap!</strong>

    When this colossal skeleton, towering sixty feet high, appeared in the world, Norrus opened his mouth in a daze and couldn''t maintain his standing posture. With a thud, he knelt on the ground!

    Under the gloomy clouds and above the dark waters, a gigantic skeleton resembling an ancient titan stood imposingly in the middle of theke. Each polished, gleaming thick white bone was entwined with tendril-like bolts of lightning, while two enormous eye sockets atop the skull zed with dark green mes that harbored an evil necromantic power. This profound disy shook Norrus Deman who was well-versed in such matters to his core-- tears streamed down his face as every cell in his body trembled with excitement!

    Ages ago, in ancient times long faded into obscurity, the very fabric of the magical environment saturating the Earth underwent a sudden, drastic change for unknown reasons. The once incredibly powerful and dominant entities that had formerly rivaled even the mightiest of ''Ancient'' wizards began to perish, one after another, until their very existence was erased from the annals of history entirely.

    This catastrophic decline directly triggered the steady erosion and regression of the formerly prestigious lineage of necromancers, mages who dealt with the controlling of undead creatures. The crucial factor underlying their gradual demise was theck of mighty undead beings from which they derived their power.

    Just think about it, the remaining necromancers now have fallen to the point where they can''t even obtain fresh bones andponents from "weak" creatures like dragons to fuel their spells and rituals. If this continues, the extinction of their school of magic was almost certain.

    Norrus could never have dreamed that in his lifetime, he would encounter such a mighty titan giant skeleton that had already been refined by dark magic.

    "It seems¡ª" As Norrusy prostrate on the ground, offering a thousand thanks for this divine gift, an old, hoarse voice, tinged with a hint ofughter, suddenly came from above,"It seems like you''re quite fond of my little pet, Thanatos."

    Startled by the sudden voice, Norrus trembled for a moment. But after regaining hisposure, he immediately jumped up and looked around, finally finding the source of the voice above the giant skeleton''s skull.

    "Golden Viper?" Norrus breathed in stunned disbelief upon recognizing the distinctive magical vortex swirling around the figure, as well as the trademark insignia marked upon his cor.

    "You haven''t¡­ Oh, you''ve been out of sight for a while, and everyone thought you¡ªcough, I mean, it''s been a long time, Viper!" he corrected himself hastily.

    "Many people want me dead, but no one has seeded."

    Bryan chuckled coldly as he floated down from the top of the skeleton,nding in front of Thanatos.

    The two were not strangers, having coborated more than once. Seeing that it was Viper, Thanatos let go of his fear of being trapped. Although Viper was ruthless, he generally yed by the rules unless provoked first.

    "It seems that not many people in the underworld dare to trouble you..."

    Thanatos casually agreed. His attention was focused on the earth-shattering creature in front of him. He stared eagerly at the giant skeleton that Bryan had brought from Avalon Ind, drooling from the corner of his mouth.

    "Where did you get this big guy?"

    "From an ancient ruin..."

    Viper said, noticing the gleam in Thanatos'' eyes. He added,

    "Don''t bother, Thanatos, that ce has now copsed. This bony frame caused me some trouble, so considering it might be worth some money, I brought it out of there¡ª"

    ncing at the drooling Thanatos, Viper tilted his head and chuckled.

    "I heard from Kakus that you''re seeking a newmanding undead. How about it, does it meet your requirements?"

    "Of course, I''m willing to spend all my fortune to buy it!"

    Thanatos blurted out, but then immediately realized that this was not the attitude for negotiating. After coughing twice, he cautiously nced at Viper and said sheepishly,

    "What I mean is, I''m willing to spend my entire fortune if it''s in perfect condition, but you see¡ª"

    Thanatos pointed to the gruesome crack on the right leg bone of the skeleton.

    "That must have been caused during your fight with it. You were able to suppress such a powerful undead creature, Viper, no wonder you don''t care about doing such things under Dumbledore''s nose¡­ Ahem, I mean, it''s wed, isn''t it? The price should be discounted."

    "You have no right to bargain with me, Thanatos¡ª"

    Bryan said without hesitation.

    It was destined to be an unequal trade. The undead giant in Bryan''s hands was one of a kind, and you probably couldn''t find a second one in the entire world. To a necromancer like Thanatos, whose strengthrgely depended onmanding undead, this skeleton was irresistibly attractive.

    "I, I understand"

    Thanatos said bitterly, silently reaching into his storage pouch and rummaging through its contents,

    "I just hope, after all, we are friends, aren''t we? Viper, friendship is more precious than gold."

    If it weren''t for his current identity as Golden Viper, Bryan would have beenughing at Thanatos''s pitiful demeanor. This man''s character in the Ministry of Magic was not like this at all; it seemed he was always disguising himself.

    Norrus began transferring various items rted to his necromancer heritage from the expanded interior of his pouch. What remained were all the galleons he had painstakingly umted over the years, in addition to several valuable alchemical tools and apparatuses.

    "Is this all?" Bryan inquired, a hint of displeasure tingeing his words as he took extended bag and appraised its contents, gauging the substantial weight in his palm.

    If he were to be objectively honest, the sum of galleons Norrus gave represented quite a considerable fortune by most conventions. However, whenpared to the utterly priceless, irreceable skeletal remains of the primordial titan giant, it was an almost insignificant sum. Thanatos himself was well aware of this, and he was afraid that Viper would suddenly change his mind and refuse to sell the skeleton to him. So, he didn''t dare to make any clever arguments and simply said through gritted teeth,

    "I''m willing to help you in a task, Viper. Whatever it is, as long as you''re willing to give me this skeleton."

    A glimmer of light shed in Bryan''s eyes as he sarcastically remarked with disdain,

    "You should be aware of the gap in strength between us, Thanatos; you can''t offer me any help."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0325 The Three things

    0325 The Three things

    "I''m willing to help you in a task, Viper. Whatever it is, as long as you''re willing to give me this skeleton."

    A glimmer shed in Viper''s eyes. He sarcastically remarked with disdain,

    "You should be aware of the gap in strength between us, Thanatos; you can''t offer me any help."

    Hearing this, Thanatos''s tall frame deted like a punctured ball. He was well aware of the disparity in strength between them, having witnessed Viper in action. Anything he could do, Viper could surely do as well, albeit with more inconvenience.

    "How much do you want, Viper? Name a price. I have some friends who can provide me with some support!"

    Even in the world above, where the sun shines, business and personal favors cannot be mixed, let alone in the underworld, where only interests matter. Viper''s attitude was within Thanatos''s expectations.

    "It seems that you really want this Titan giant''s skeleton."

    Thanatos, who was prepared to ept Viper''s exorbitant demands, suddenly heard this odd question.

    Did he need to say how much he wants this one-of-a-kind undead creature?

    "Um¡ªdid you just say you''re willing to help me with something?"

    Bryan stroked his chin, eyeing the stunned Thanatos with a subtle gaze,

    "It''s your lucky day, Thanatos. I have indeed encountered a few issues recently. Well, it''s not that I can''t handle them, but they are rather troublesome¡ª"

    "I''m willing to share your burden, Mr. Viper!"

    Thanatos jumped up, expressing his eagerness.

    "It would be my honor to help you solve your troubles!"

    "There are three things in total, Thanatos. If you agree, then this skeleton will be yours. You won''t need to borrow money from your friends anymore..."

    Watching the breathless Thanatos, Bryan pondered for a moment, his eyes bing deep and inscrutable.

    "The first thing is rtively simple. A Time-Turner. You must be familiar with this marvelous little device that allows wizards to travel back in time. However, ordinary Time-Turners can only trace back a short period. I need a method¡­ a technology that can significantly extend the time it can trace back. Just a few months won''t satisfy my needs; it has to be able to take someone back several years. Do you have a way to get this technology, Thanatos?"

    As Bryan''s voice faded into silence, a subtle change flickered behind the mask worn by Thanatos, concealing his true appearance from view.

    A time-turner -- he was certainly familiar with such magical devices. It was widely known and regarded asmon knowledge among those acquainted with theplex workings of the wizarding world that all the existing time-turners, were under the strict control of the Ministry of Magic. Furthermore, the Time Room where these coveted time-turners were meticulously guarded and housed belonged to the Department of Mysteries, a division of which Thanatos himself was part of.

    <em>''Was this just a coincidence or a calcted move?''</em>

    Thanatos found himself pondering this thought with a sense of unease that gnawed at his mind. Not a single wizard who managed to survive in the chaotic, rowdy underground world widespread with danger and intrigue was a fool. Thanatos immediately sensed an air of uneasiness, a palpable aura of something amiss that set his nerves zing with anxiety.

    <em>''Could it be that Viper had already uncovered my identity in the outside world?''</em>

    Gazing at the inscrutable Golden-Viper before him, Thanatos''s eyes were filled with fear.

    "Is there a problem?" Bryan inquired, his toneced with indifference.

    Thanatos, who had mere moments ago sworn to give everything, to sacrifice all for the precious, skeleton of the Mighty Titan Giant, now found himself enveloped in a cloak of caution, his demeanor guarded and wary. His voice was muffled, partly obscured by the mask that concealed his features as he spoke, "Let''s talk about the next two things first, Viper--"

    "Very well," Bryan nodded slightly, "The second thing, I believe you are well aware of how much this skeleton can help you in terms of power. When you can sessfully control it, I believe that in the contemporary Wizarding world, apart from a few individuals, no one will be your match, Thanatos. I don''t want a day toe when you use my things against me, or my people. You must swear never to be my enemies in the future and to join my camp when I need you."

    "Do you n to unify the underworld?" Thanatos asked, his voice tinged with astonishment, bewilderment etching itself across his concealed features. "If that''s your intention, I advise you to abandon such a thought early, Viper. As you know, those rowdy infamous individuals will not submit to anyone''s dominion, regardless of the allure of power that tempts them, and besides, you are not of the Secret Wizard lineage."

    "I have no desire to rule over anyone, Thanatos," Bryan said coolly. "As for what I intend to do, that''s not for you to pry into."

    Thanatos didn''t utter a word in response, but he was engaged in an intense, internal struggle, a whirl of conflicting thoughts and emotions that raged within the confines of his mind. This matter was more troublesome, more filled with danger and uncertainty than the first condition that had been presented to him, as the level of unpredictability and ambiguity was staggering. What if, in the future, Viper whimsically decided to indulge in the thrill of being a Dark Lord, and decided tounch a brazen attack upon the the Ministry of Magic, and demanded his allegiance? What should he do then?

    Bryan ignored Thanatos''splex internal struggle. After a moment of silence, he continued,

    "The third thing, I need you to help me kill someone."

    "Kill someone?" Thanatos repeated, his mind immediately clearing itself of all the distracting thoughts that had gued him mere moments before, his confusion evident in the utterance of those two words.

    "What''s soplicated about that? You can do it yourself, Viper, unless..."

    Thanatos''s eyes widened in horror, the realization striking him like a physical blow as his gaze fell upon the distant silhouette of Hogwarts shrouded in a veil of mist, "You don''t mean to kill Albus Dumbledore, do you?"

    "Hmph, kill Dumbledore? Just with you?"

    In Thanatos''s awkwardughter, the Viper snorted disdainfully. After a brief pause, he softly uttered a name from his mouth.

    Thanatos fell silent, staring at the Viper, his mouth opening as if to ask something, but his good "professional conduct" made him suppress his curiosity and confusion, keeping his mouth shut.

    "Three things, if you agree, the skeleton is yours. If you disagree, I will erase the memory of our meeting today. Make your choice, Thanatos." Viper said calmly.

    The three things that Viper had outlined, each carried with them immense risks and danger, hazards that could not be understated or disregarded. If they were to be offered asmissions on the trading markets of the underground world, the price demanded would be exorbitant, especially the third thing. If possible, Thanatos would never willingly entangle himself in such matters at this delicate, precarious time.

    However, as Thanatos''s gaze fell upon the towering, colossal skeleton of the giant that loomed in the depths of theke, his eyes tracing the formidable power contained within each translucent white bone, transfixed by the two chilling undead forces that seemed to burn in the giant''s vacant eye sockets, he knew with an unwavering certainty that if he were to squander this opportunity, to let it slip through his grasp like water through cupped hands, his mentor might rise from the grave to skin him alive!

    Casting a sidelong nce at Viper, who was leisurely drinking in the surrounding scenery, his demeanor utterly rxed and exuding an aura of unshakable control over the situation, Thanatos was itching with anger.

    <strong><em>ng, ng, whoo!</em></strong>

    The resounding ngs and shrill whooshing sounds of the Hogwarts Express pierced the air, the iconic scarlet steam engine chugging along the iron bridge that spanned the panoramdscape before arriving at the Hogsmeade station with a series of echoing whistles. Even as the train disembarked its passengers and prepared for its return journey, Thanatos remained rooted to the spot, and couldn''t make up his mind.

    "Since you''re not willing--"

    Bryan had lost patience, and a wand appeared from under his ck cloak,

    "Then our deal ends here, Thanatos. I need to obliviate you."

    "Wait, Viper!" Thanatos sprang up, panting heavily, "I didn''t say I wouldn''t ept; I just¡­ need some time to assess the risks!"

    "Gains have always been proportional to risks, Thanatos," Viper said, his toneced with impatience, as if reprimanding a wayward child. "If youck even that fundamental awareness, I advise you to leave the underground world soon and open a cauldron stall in Diagon Alley!"

    Whether Thanatos would choose to make the deal was a question that didn''t require much thought. Since Bryan had invited him out, he was confident that Thanatos would agree.

    The crimson glow of the contract gradually dissipated into the gloomy air. After the two parties scheduled the time for the time-turner enchantment handover, Bryan directly disapparated, while Thanatos remained in the suburbs, gazing dreamily at the towering giant''s skeleton. He would probably need to stay a few more days in the wilderness to familiarize himself with this skeleton''s "performance."

    Overall, Bryan found himself thoroughly satisfied with the oue of this transaction. Not only had it served to replenish his rapidly expanding pockets, but it had also provided resolutions to two vexing, troublesome matters that had been weighing upon his mind. Moreover, it had allowed him toy some crucial groundwork, to set certain preparations in motion for the future that stilly ahead.

    <strong>Underground world: Trading market--</strong>

    "Apart from that notebook, have you really gained nothing else?" Bryan returned to the original stall where he had purchased the Blood Curse, coldly staring at the slippery Greek wizard, whose face was as scaly as that of an African tree snake''s.

    "Sorry, Mr. Viper--" The stall owner shook his head regretfully, his expression one of feigned remorse masking his true intentions. "That is a relic from a very ancient era, and There weren''t many valuables inside. It was a wasted trip for us. That manuscript was our only gain."

    After speaking, the stallholder''s eyes rolled in their sockets a few times. Leaning forward cautiously, he lowered his voice and asked, "Is it truly the magical research manuscript of the legendary ''Herpo The Foul'' himself?"

    The Viper nced coldly at the stall owner, who was full of ulterior motives, and without saying a word, he turned and left.

    It had been quite some time since he obtained that stack of manuscripts. Never before had Bryan spent so much time on curse research, but the importance of the Blood Curse was extraordinary¡ªit was a spell he had to master.

    With his current level of magical expertise and prowess, there were few individuals who could offer him meaningful guidance on such matters.

    Could it be that he really had to go and consult Dumbledore about this evil magic that was no less cruel than a Horcrux?

    Bryan shook his head. This was his own trump card, and he didn''t want Dumbledore to get too involved.

    With a mind full of thoughts, Bryan made his way towards the designated exit point of the underground realm. Just as he was about to step aboard the cart that would transport him back to the surface world, amotion erupted within the vicinity of the pet market. Bryan''s gaze, outwardly indifferent yet inwardly assessing, swept over the unfolding scene. After a cursory few nces, he understood what had happened.

    Some imbecile, a fool from Uagadou, had brought a collection of vibrant African Fwooper birds to the market with the intent of peddling them for profit. These avian creatures were renowned worldwide for their striking, lustrous feathers and their haunting, cries that could drive people insane. When attempting to broker the sale of such beings, it was customary and expected that they would be subjected to a carefully executed Silencing Charm before being transported to the bustling market.

    It seemed that the ipetent vendor had botched the casting of this crucial spell. Now, an entire cage brimming with the shrill, unsettling chirping of the Fwooper birds had sparked pandemonium, startling and unsettling numerous nearby magical creatures confined in their own cages. A veritable melee had erupted, with confused and disoriented wizards drawing their wands and unleashing volleys of spells, attacking one another in the midst of the chaos.

    After a few cursory sweeps of his gaze across the unfolding mayhem, Bryan shook his head, his interest in the matter rapidly waning. He stepped onto the waiting cart, twisted the control lever with a practiced motion, and with an audible click, the brake detached. The cart began to lurch forward, gradually gaining momentum as it prepared to ascend the sloping incline that would return him to the world above.

    But just as the cart was about to leave the level teau andmence its climb up the slope, Bryan''s eyebrow furrowed, in an expression of fleeting surprise. With a curl of his cloak and a skillful maneuver, he leaped from the cart, his feetnding upon the ground with a muted thud. When he turned his gaze once more upon the magical creatures that had been stripped of their dignity and reduced to meremodities within the confines of the trade market, his eyes held a trace of surprise.

    Edit- The birds name is fwooper due to some mistakes and stuff i put its name as augurey bird. But now its Fwooper as it should be ording to Mr. Newt Scamander and his films.

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 0326 A Stupid Mistake

    0326 A Stupid Mistake

    Bryan stared at the magical creature trading ce, where the screeches of Fwooper birds, the sting sounds of wizards attacking each other nearby, and the continuous curses from farther away filled the air. His purple eyes gleamed with surprise.

    But for Bryan, amidst this seeming chaos, a sh of sheer brilliance struck his mind like a bolt of lightning, illuminating a path forward. For nearly ten months since obtaining the manuscript detailing the Blood Curse, he had tirelessly conducted countless experiments, each one ending in failure more frustrating than thest. Determined to unravel the cause of these setbacks, he had meticulously deduced and analyzed the curse''s intricate spell configuration, turned over every scrap of information collected from the remnants of the manuscript, yet no matter how painstakingly he approached the task, his efforts yielded no tangible results.

    But now, he thought of a possibility.

    Initially, before embarking on his first experiment, he had invested the bulk of his Galleons with Kakus to find information rted to Druidism. To save on experimental costs, he had used weak, ordinary creatures as experimental materials.

    Ordinarily, such a choice should not have impacted the experimental oues, yet Bryan had identally overlooked a crucial aspect ¨C the very essence of the Blood Curse''s potencyy rooted in the soul of the living being itself, and the feeble souls of these ordinary creatures were incapable of bearing the immense weight of Bryan''s magical power.

    Subsequently, at the critical juncture of each experiment, the fragile soul acting as the vessel for the curse would dissipate, crumbling under the immense strain, leading inevitably to the failure of the entire endeavor. Although this revtion remained a mere conjecture, Bryan could be certain that this oversight was undoubtedly the root cause behind his persistentck of sess.

    "What a stupid mistake,"

    Bryan murmured, shaking his head in a mixture of self-deprecatingughter and disbelief at his own ignorance.

    Yet, in truth, this was the inherent nature of magical experimentation ¨C a single, seemingly insignificant error could precipitate total and utter failure. And for someone like Bryan, a wizard with profound magical knowledge and prowess, it was all too easy to attribute setbacks to the more challenging and obscure aspects, overlooking the seemingly obvious pitfalls that even those of lesser skill might easily discern.

    This, then, was the insidious nature of the knowledge barrier, a treacherous obstacle that had ensnared even the most aplished of magical researchers and wizards.

    <strong>Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!</strong>

    The sudden silence that descended upon the chaotic marketce was as abrupt as it was unnerving. A brilliant, crimson orb had soared skyward, and beneath the cold, appraising gazes of countless onlookers, it detonated in a dazzling burst of searing red light. The Fwooper birds, their cages now disturbingly still, and the bewildered wizards who had fallen victim to the Stupefy spell, their bodies crumpled lifelessly to the ground, were rendered utterly silent, a stark contrast to the pandemonium that had reigned mere moments before.

    "What price do you n to sell these Fwooper birds for?" Bryan inquired, his voiceced with casual indifference as he turned his attention to the Uagadou wizard whose body was adorned with vibrant, intricately painted totemic designs.

    The Uagadou wizard, his eyes still zed with lingering bewilderment, required several long moments to fullyprehend the events that had recently unfolded. Finally, he sprang to his feet, shining with rage, andshed out violently, delivering a vicious kick to the cage containing the Fwooper birds, unleashing a torrent of curses and profanities that seemed to pour forth from the very depths of his being. It was a considerable span of time before the wizard regained a semnce ofposure.

    "Are you... Mr. -Viper?" he ventured, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and wariness.

    This Uagadou wizard was a habitual smuggler. It did not take him long to recognize the distinct mask of, the legendary bounty hunter--Golden Viper, and his eyes immediately ignited with the flickering mes of opportunity and greed.

    In the shadowy realm of the underground, reputation was inextricably intertwined with wealth and power, and Golden Viper, with his exceptional skills and an astoundingly highmission sess rate, was renowned as a figure of near-mythic proportions. A bounty hunter of such caliber, the smuggler guessed, must possess unfathomable wealth.

    "Five hundred Galleons each, Mr. Viper," the Uagadou wizard said, his tone now oily and fawning, a stark contrast to his earlier fury. "There are six in total here. If you''re willing to buy them all, I can offer you a ten percent discount!"

    Sensing the chilling aura of menace that seemed to emanate from the very essence of the Viper, the Uagadou wizard hastily added, his words tumbling forth in a desperate torrent, "You can''t imagine the effort I had to go through to get these lively little creatures here, Mr. Viper. The British Ministry of Magic has banned the use of flying carpets, and I was caught by the patrol squad when Inded, spending a fortune to let them release me. So, price-wise¡ª"

    "One thousand five hundred--" Bryan interjected, his voice unhurried and dismissive as he casually cut off the wizard''s rambling, stating a price that, while reasonable, allowed no negotiation. "If you don''t agree, I''ll let you lie there for a while longer."

    And with those words, the deal was amicably settled, the Uagadou wizard wisely recognizing the futility of further haggling with the fearsome Golden Viper.

    With the curse vessel materials now secured, Bryan''s attention turned to the next crucialponent ¨C a recipient for the curse itself, preferably an intelligent magical creature capable of withstanding the immense strain of the ritual. The group of domesticated house-elves that had been terrified by the earliermotion had not yet returned to the underworld, leaving Bryan with a limited array of choices in the current magical creature market. Aside from the reclusive centaurs, the only intelligent magical creatures readily avable were the enigmatic Ves and the mischievous Irish Leprechauns.

    "If only I had kept a few Werewolves--" Bryan muttered to himself, his gaze flickering between the three distinct magical species as he collected the Fwooper birds, hesitation etched into the outlines of his expression.

    He had recently established an uncertain yet friendly rtionship with the centaurs dwelling within the Forbidden Forest, and unless absolutely necessary, Bryan harbored no desire to stain his hands with the blood of their kin, a prospect that filled him with a sense of unease. The Ve, on the other hand, represented the optimal choice, for one of their two transformative forms possessed a soul quality remarkably akin to that of wizards themselves. Yet it was for this very reason that Bryan hesitated, his resolve wavering as he contemted before sparing the already tragic plight of these beings.

    Leprechauns, however, were equally coveted in the underground world, their poprity stemming directly from their innate tendency for ''trickery'' and deception.

    Although incapable of deceiving the cunning goblins of Gringotts, and with mostrge alchemy workshops andpanies possessing means to discern the authenticity of Galleons, there remained a vast horde of ordinary citizens in the wizarding world whocked such sharp eyes and discerning judgment. The underworld was a cesspool packed with scoundrels and chatans who would stop at nothing to deceive and swindle the unsuspecting. An Irish Leprechaun''s talents could yield profits that would dwarf the earnings from several medium-scale-difficultymission tasksbined.

    After parting with another two thousand ''hard-earned'' Galleons, Bryan atst had assembled all the necessary high-quality "experimental materials" required for his ambitious experiment. The final prerequisite was the identification of a suitably secluded ce in which he could conduct the potentially unpredictable experiment, far from prying eyes and interference.

    The hotel where he had taken up temporary residence ofte was unsuitable for such experiments. The uproar caused by that Rita Skeeter, and her meddling had already made Bryan rather unwee at the hotel. After weighing the advantages of the Shrieking Shack against those of the Number 12, Grimmauld ce, Bryan ultimately cast his decision in favor of thetter. The ancient ck family manor, though steeped in a legacy of darkness, possessed manyyers of robust magical wards and defensive spells. So, even if something went wrong, at least it wouldn''t be exposed.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    The nauseating, dizzying spin through the swirling gray void of spatial turbulence concluded as abruptly as it had begun, dumping Bryan with a steady pace in the narrow corridor behind the door of the ck Manor ¨C or rather, the Watson Manor, as it could now be rightfully called. Before he could shake off his bewilderment at the clean, well-lit corridor before him, a shrill, malicious voice assaulted his ears, emanating from a source he knew all too well.

    "Despicable, shameless thief, lowly, filthy Mudblood, how dare you¡ª"

    <strong>Crash!</strong>

    The high-pitched torrent of venom ceased as abruptly as it had begun, the scathing attack cut short by a surprised scream that reverberated through the corridor.

    "Master Watson!"

    Kreacher, the ck family''s devoted house-elf, his fleshy nose adorned with a shining string of snot bubbles, scurried towards Bryan with aically exaggerated wobble,ing to an abrupt halt before him. The elf''s bulging eyes shone with a mixture of reverence and unconcealed devotion as he addressed his new master.

    "Kreacher has been wondering when he would get toy eyes upon you once more, Master Watson. Is there anything this humble servant can do to be of service to the great Master Watson?" The elf''s raspy tones were covered with an earnestness that bordered on the syrupy feeling.

    Ever since that fateful night when Bryan, alongside Remus and Sirius, had brought back Regulus''s body from the depths of the cave where Voldemort had hidden one of his Horcruxes, the house-elf, who had previously disyed nothing but open hostility toward the trio, had undergone a profound transformation. Remus believed that Kreacher''s newfound attitude stemmed from a sense of gratitude, yet Bryan could not shake the conviction that the power he had showed that night yed a pivotal role in the elf''s sudden change in behaviors.

    "Oh, Kreacher, it''s you¡ª" Bryan showed a faint smile, brushing past the elf as he remarked with casual indifference, "Catching up with your old master?"

    "The old mistress has been in low spiritstely, Master Watson," Kreacher confided, scurrying obediently towards Bryan as he spoke in hushed, cautious tones. "For all these years, the old mistress had clung to the hope that Master Regulus had merely run away from home. But ever since you and Master Sirius brought back Master Regulus''s body, she has been forced to confront the harsh reality and can no longer deceive herself."

    It was, indeed, a tragic affair. Out of respect for the fallen Regulus and his brother Sirius, Bryan decided to allow the portrait of thete Walburga ck a few more days of despairing existence upon the wall before ultimately removing it from his sight.

    Pushing open the door at the end of the corridor, Bryan climbed the stairs, intending to return to his former room to rest and recuperate, allowing himself to recover to optimal condition before embarking upon the experimental work thaty ahead. Kreacher followed dutifully behind him, cautiously observing him, as if there was something he wanted to ask but dared not overstep.

    "Oh, by the way--" Bryan said, pausing before entering his room as he turned his gaze downward to meet Kreacher''s expectant stare. A faint smile yed across his lips as he addressed the elf in a gentle tone, "I almost forgot, Kreacher. I have two pieces of good news to share with you."

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 0327 Vicious Magic

    0327 Vicious Magic

    "Sirius will soon be free from his unjust imprisonment," Bryan said with a radiant smile. "You''ve been staying in this house all day, so you probably don''t know what''s happening outside. The Ministry of Magic has announced the truth about what happened that year in the Daily Prophet. In a mere matter of days, the long-awaited trial of the genuine traitor responsible for the betrayal of the Potter family, Peter Pettigrew, willmence officially. I will also bear witness to these proceedings, and upon their conclusion, Sirius will, in all probability, be released and granted the freedom to return to this Manor."

    Kreacher, the aged house-elf, his eyes swollen and bloodshot, responded to this news with a trembling voice, "Kreacher is happy for Master Sirius¡ª"

    Mustering his courage, he bravely raised his head and inquired, "When Master Sirius returns home¡­ Master Regulus''s funeral?"

    Indeed, despite being born from the same mother and both being direct descendants of the ck family lineage, the stark contrast in the treatment they received was truly staggering and profoundly unjust.

    Bryan pursed his lips, choosing to remain silent and refrain from answering Kreacher''s emotional query. Instead, he reached into the depths of his pocket, fumbling momentarily before extracting the exquisite locket that once belonged to the legendary Szar Slytherin himself, presenting it before Kreacher''s astonished gaze.

    This time, Kreacher''s reaction was far more "normal," as one might expect.

    Tears instantly welled up in his swollen, bulbous eyes, and his frail body trembled violently as he gazed upon the locket cradled in Bryan''s hand with an expression of utter disbelief and awe. "You...you...oh, Kreacher can''t believe this!"

    Quivering uncontrobly, Kreacher extended his withered hand, yearning to caress the open locket, yetcking the courage to do so. "Kreacher tried countless times, but the powerful dark magic enshrouding the Locket thwarted his efforts. But you did it, you have fulfilled Master Regulus''s dying wish. You are the greatest wizard Kreacher has ever bore witness to in all his long years!"

    Bryan''s cheek twitched involuntarily a few times. This ancient and toothless house-elf was quite adept at ttering others. But then again, it seemed that he truly harbored profound respect and reverence for thete Regulus ck.

    "Yes, the dark magic imbued within this locket has been obliterated," Bryan affirmed, while Kreacher, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotion, prostrated himself upon the ground, sobbing uncontrobly and muttering nonstop.

    Regulus''s final wish had been Kreacher''s deepest obsession. For countless years, he had shouldered the burden of a task he could neverplete, living in solitary agony and torment. Now, Bryan had liberated him from this anguish, and one could only imagine the depths of gratitude and relief that flooded Kreacher''s soul.

    "Very well, Kreacher," Bryan said in a gentle tone, halting Kreacher''s rolling and thrashing upon the ground. "From now on, you can live a bit morefortably too. If you don''t mind, could you make me some lunch? I''m a bit hungry."

    "No problem, Master Watson!"Kreacher sprang up with renewed vitality and energy. He wiped his nose unceremoniously with the back of his hand, eagerly preparing to descend the stairs andmence his culinary duties. Serving wizards was an instruction etched into the very soul of a house-elf, a task they undertook with immense pride and satisfaction.

    "Since you have managed to restore order and cleanliness to this ce, Kreacher," Bryan called out to Kreacher, who had already scurried toward the staircase, "Please tidy yourself up a bit too before cooking!"

    After enjoying a carefully prepared delicious lunch, Bryan returned to his room to rest for a while, to alleviate the slight fatigue caused by forcibly controlling the skeleton of the Titan earlier in the morning. It wasn''t until the sun dipped low, its golden rays turning crimson, that he finally opened his drowsy eyes andzily rose from bed.

    Casting a cursory nce at the wall clock to ascertain the time, Bryan pursed his lips in dissatisfaction. Perhaps it was the gradual adaptation to a life of increasingfort, buttely, he felt a certain lethargy andziness had crept into his being.

    Regulus''s body had been ced in the room he lived in when alive- the fifth floor, while Bryan''s room was on the fourth. Out of respect for Regulus, Bryan went to a guest room on the third floor, taking some effort to relocate the furnishings elsewhere. After remodeling it, he ordered Kreacher not to enter the room again without being summoned.

    The magical creatures they had captured possessed an intelligence far surpassing that of ordinary beasts. The mournful cries of the Fwooper bird, as ity helpless upon the ground, were so piercing and shrill that they inflicted upon Bryan a throbbing headache, akin to nails being dragged across a ckboard.

    Meanwhile, the Irish Leprechaun, adorned with twoical chestnut-colored whiskers, hurled a relentless torrent of the foulest curses known to its kind. Had its tiny form not been bound and restrained by a snake as thick as a man''s thumb, it would undoubtedly have leapt forth and pounded Bryan''s knees with its stubby fists in a furious rage. Even in its current state of captivity, it did not neglect to direct a series of vulgar hand gestures toward Bryan with its small stubby fingers.

    Bryan, maintaining an aura of calmposure, waved his wand, and the two wild creatures simultaneously sumbed to a deep slumber, their cries and curses abruptly silenced.

    The next magical experiment required the preservation of their souls in a stable, tranquil state, and intense emotions would only serve to undermine and hamper the process.

    Bryan was already well-versed in this particr curse experiment, having conducted it on numerous previous asions. After exerting his will to levitate the two creatures onto the experimental tform, he closed his eyes, seeking to steady his mind and attain a state of profound focus. Mere momentster, when he opened them again, his purple eyes held only the cold logic and a thirst for magical advancement.

    Beyond the confines of the ck family''s ancient manor, the world was overflowing with the vibrant spirit of spring, the intoxicating warmth of the gentle breeze casting an enchanting spell upon all it caressed. But within the musty halls of this venerable Manor, it was as if the harsh, bitter chill of winter had taken up permanent residence.

    A wisp of pure white frost crept forth from beneath the sealed door of theboratory, spreading rapidly along the third-floor corridor like a toxic ivy nourished by abundant rain, enveloping the walls in an icy embrace within the blink of an eye.

    In the realm of the invisible, an inky ck, evil magic roared to life, and Kreacher, who had been lurking outside the door, trembled uncontrobly, ovee by an overwhelming desire to flee from this ursed house immediately. However, the nature of a house-elfpelled him to remain, bound to this ce and unable to abandon his post.

    Theboratory seemed to be enveloped in a thick, imprable fog of otherworldly origin.

    The ck mist, full with innumerable particles, rolled and swirled as if governed by the unavoidable pull of the moon''s gravity upon the tides, experiencing a perpetual ebb and flow. Within this surging, roiling ck tide, the only object emitting a pure white halo was the soul Bryan had neatly extracted from the Fwooper bird''s corporeal form.

    The soul, radiant as the luminous glow of the moon itself, emanated a flimsy glow with a gel-like, ethereal texture. Having only just been severed from its original bodily vessel, the intensity of the Fwooper bird''s soul burned many times brighter than the pale, wispy ghosts that had haunted the halls of Hogwarts for hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

    Fixing his unwavering gaze upon the glowing soul, an overwhelming sense of joy and tion, potent and uncontroble, welled up within the depths of Bryan''s heart. His experience from previous experiments whispered to him that sess was close.

    His wand traced an intricate, mysterious trajectory through the air, and under the guidance of an inscrutable aura, the floating ck "grains" that permeated the chamber merged and gathered together, forming an intricate pattern akin to a symbol, a diagram, or an ancient rune. The moment this pattern manifested, the immense and evil magical power it exuded caused the very air to tremble violently, and the nearby Fwooper bird''s soul rippled like the surface of ake disturbed by a gentle breeze.

    Bryan narrowed his eyes, his expression one of intense focus, as he pressed the tip of his wand against the pattern that had gathered this evil will and immense magical power. Slowly, with palpable difficulty, as if pushing against the weight of a great burden, he guided it ever closer to the Fwooper bird''s soul.

    At the moment of contact, a piercing cry echoed through the void, a sound so disturbing and agonizing that it seemed to reverberate within the very depths of one''s soul. The outline of the Fwooper bird''s soul trembled violently before Bryan''s eyes, the emanating waves of fear and despair so potent that they even managed to prate the barrier and assault Kreacher, who remained vignt outside the door.

    The ck pattern spread out dozens of thin tendrils, akin to the grasping roots of a sinister nt, fiercely piercing and invading the soul''s ethereal body. After being thus vited, the originally sacred soul gradually darkened in hue, and the dim light it emitted took on a discernible tinge of malice and corruption!

    The mysteries of the soul were rarely glimpsed, let alone fullyprehended. Bryan cast aside all unimportant distractions and focused the entirety of his considerable intellect on analyzing the various mysteries and arcane secrets contained within the suspended soul. Combining his existing wealth of knowledge, he swiftly constructed aprehensive framework to systematize the understanding of the soul''s intrinsic systems.

    The forced mutation of the Fwooper bird''s soul persisted for a full ten agonizing minutes. When, atst, the dark pattern had fully integrated and melded with its unwilling host, a wave of invisible force surged forth, an unseen shockwave that burst outwards with such potency that it actually forced Bryan back a step, momentarily disrupting his footing.

    And as all anomalies subsided and the invisible turbulence dissipated, a me-like ck curse seed appeared before Bryan''s eyes, hovering in the air like a malicious will-o''-wisp, the culmination of his efforts!

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 0328 Success

    0328 Sess

    Like a hellish flower blossoming in the mortal world, flickering mes danced around it, spattering fiery sparks in every direction. The soul-like petals appeared ethereal and illusory, yet they possessed an immense and corrosive power that defied their flimsy appearance. Upon making contact with the nearby desk and floor, the surfaces underwent a rapid and unnatural transformation, as if experiencing countless seasonspressed into an instant. Their deep, rich colors gradually faded to shades of ashen gray and pale white, crumbling into powdery ash in the mere blink of an eye!

    "Sess!" Bryan eximed, pursing his lips to stifle an expression of sheer tion and joy that threatened to burst forth. It had been a long time since hest felt such an intense rush of joy from oveing the challenges during spell research.

    A gloomy, ominous light shrouded the room, casting eerie, elongated shadows that danced across Bryan''s handsome features as he silently admired the nimble, undting mes, savoring the sight of his freshly-crafted ''masterpiece'' with a sense of pride. However, just as he was reveling in the intoxicating feeling of achievement, a dull thud resonated from beyond the door, shattering the silence. Bryan''s eyebrow furrowed in a slight frown of displeasure at the interruption.

    It was Kreacher, the devoted house-elf who had been obediently standing guard at the door per Bryan''s orders. However, the aged creature''s weathered body could no longer withstand the overwhelming tide of magical energies emanating from the room, causing him to suddenly lose consciousness and copse in the hallway just outside.

    Snapping out of his reverie, Bryan realized that his inattentiveness after sessful experimentation with the Blood Curse had severely impacted the surrounding environment. Half of the ck Manor was now coated in a shimmering, pale blue frost that crept along the walls and surfaces like an icy cancer. Many portraits depicting somber-faced ck family ancestors hung frozen in their frames, their expressions of perpetual disdain and haughty arrogance now rendered frozen, only able to convey their outrage through the furious glint in their eyes.

    The Muggles residing in the adjacent Manors numbered 11 and 13 of Grimmauld ce were not spared from the unsettling disturbance either. Despite the brilliant crimson hues of sunset still streaking across the evening sky and the tranquil rity of the heavens above their heads, an unnatural and bone-chilling cold had descended upon their humble abode, rendering the rooms almost unbearably cold.

    Bryan''s frown deepened as the realization dawned upon him that it was not yet time to celebrate for his aplishment. There was still work to be done.

    During this time, the captive Irish leprechaun stirred briefly from its enforced slumber, but after being viciously bitten by the venomous serpent coiled around its tiny form, it quickly turned a sickly pale shade and promptly lost consciousness once more.

    Exerting his control over the captured Fwooper''s soul, which now floated ethereally above the creature''s feathered head, Bryan inhaled deeply and pressed down the tip of his wand. In an instant, the hapless bird was engulfed in roaring emerald mes that licked hungrily at its body. A scream of pure, agonizing torment tore through the ancient Manor, surpassing even the shrill, piercing shrieks of the infamous Walburga ck at the mere sight of ''Mudbloods'' defiling her home.

    The Irish leprechaun, barelyrger than a goblin, was now covered in grotesque magical sigils and patterns. These bizarre markings, shining with an unsettling bloody crimson glow, appeared to possess a sinister life of their own as they ruthlessly constricted around the creature''s form, greedily devouring its very life-force and stripping away its soul in agonizing increments.

    This was among the most vicious and cruel of all known curses in the arcane world of magic. Even if the Irish Leprechauns did not perish here and somehow managed to produce offspring, then for a thousand years and beyond, its descendants would remain forever cursed and unable to escape from Bryan''s inflicted curse!

    The curse took insidious effect with terrifying swiftness. Within the span of a mere two minutes, the leprechaun underwent a hideously grotesque transformation that defied the knownws of magical nature.

    Like a soft lump of malleable y, the leprechaun''s body became extremely flexible and fluid, its protruding facial features rapidly copsing inward upon themselves, while its stubby fingers elongated into cruelly sharp points. In stark contrast, its feet quickly retracted inward, disappearing into the shifting mass of its tormented form.

    Shining feathers erupted from its flesh in chaotic patterns, sprouting like clusters of vibrantly-hued mushrooms blooming after a spring rain. All along the length of its back, a series of curved wing bones pierced agonizingly through the stretched skin in a crimson fountain of gore, steadily unfurling outward as nerves, vessels, and newly knitted flesh rapidly enveloped the exposed bones, hastening to shape these gruesome new addons into their final form.

    The leprechaun''s howls of utter agony and despair gradually transmuted into something wholly other, something primal and bestial, as it had lost the capacity for clear speech. Its eyes, however, still zed with an unforgettable expression of pure hatred as they remained locked unblinkingly upon Bryan!

    <strong>Caw!</strong>

    Atst, a highly recognizable cry, infused with an unmistakable aura of bewitching power, echoed harshly through the confined space of the room, signaling the brutal transformation''s horrific conclusion.

    It was neither a transfiguration spell, nor the product of a Polyjuice Potion, nor the magic of an Animagus at work here. What had just transpired before Bryan''s very eyes was theplete metamorphosis of a once living, sentient Irish leprechaun into an entirely different breed of a unique magical creature!

    "Amazing," Bryan marveled in a hushed tone, scarcely able to contain his sense of awe. "Truly the work of a genius!"

    Bryan, who had risen step-by-arduous-step from an ignorant young boy to a powerful wizard now admired by many, could not help but be struck by a profound sense of wonder at this grotesque disy of the curse''s power.

    Although he had painstakingly reconstructed and restored the obscure Blood Curse through mere fragments of experimental records and remnants of the curse''s spell structure, a feat that demonstrated his immense talent, he still paled inparison to the rumored inventor of not only the Blood Curse itself but the terrible creation of the Horcrux as well - that ancient and detested Greek wizard of legend, ''Herpo the Foul''!

    Even Muggles knew the fundamental biological truth was that mismatched blood and organ types would inevitably result in catastrophic rejection and death if forcibly transnted. Yet the Blood Curse possessed the ability topletely embed a unique sentient soul into the very essence of a different species. Even those wizards possessing formidable Magical Prowess found such a seamless method of spiritual hybridization to be "unscientific" in nature!

    Bryan''s piercing gaze followed the terrified, newly-transfigured ''leprechaun'' as it scurried about in a blind panic, unable toprehend the horrific metamorphosis that had just been inflicted upon its body. A smile slowly curved the corners of his lips in a mask of satisfaction.

    The foul process of creating a Horcrux, the darkest of all arts, involvedmitting a cold-blooded murder, the severing of one''s very soul in order to cut off a fragment to be stored within an object, thus ensuring one''s immortality as long as that detached portion remained intact and untarnished.

    The original soul would linger on, unable to move to the afterlife, and the split soul can only return to the main soul under one condition: theplete remorse, sincere regret, and heartfelt eptance of the unforgivable actionsmitted against one''s victims. Only then could the soul possess even a chance to unite together. However, the agonizing pain of reintegrating the severed soul fragments was said to far surpass any mere physical torment, to the extent that the tormenting process could potentially prove fatal even to the original soul''s owner.

    Yet, the Blood Curse could ''glue'' different souls together.

    Bryan silently withdrew a small ss vial from his robe''s inner pocket. Contained within was a cluster of milky white light, its ethereal texture and soft radiance bearing an unsettling resemnce to the severed soul of the Fwooper bird from earlier.

    Holding the vial''s base delicately in his palm, he slowly rotated it back and forth, his inscrutable expression instilling a deepening sense of dread as the ethereal contents seemed to shift and ripple hypnotically in response to the subtle motion.

    As what was truly imprisoned within this ss prison was an actual fragment of Voldemort''s own soul!

    Not the locket, nor Ravenw''s diadem, but the first Horcrux created by Tom Riddle¡ªthe soul fragment hidden within the ck diary.

    Describing it as a soul fragment seemed inurate because, at that time, in the Chamber of Secrets at Slytherin, Bryan had used his magic to dismember and extract this portion of Tom Riddle''s soul. What now resided in this vial was the ''purified'' essence, the core desires and emotions Voldemort had discarded.

    The memories he had personally stripped away andter recovered from Draco''s dormitory after meeting Harry told Bryan that what he held in his hand would be the winning move to defeat Voldemort.

    When Bryan emerged from his contemtion and put the ss vial back into his pouch, the newly-transfigured "Fwooper" had already reverted to its base leprechaun form. The little creature now cowered in the corner, emanating waves of helplessness and naked fear as it stared up at its tormenter. Even the vengeful defiance that had previously burned in its eyes had been utterly extinguished, leaving only a hollow, haunted expression.

    The Blood Curse was not a one-time permanent transformation. Initially, it was an unpredictable phase of random periodic transformations. As time passed, the frequency of forced transformations increased until the soul could no longer absorb and convert the pure magical energy in the surroundings. Its own power would bepletely contaminated, and the intelligence of a sentient being would be clouded, permanently transforming into a beast.

    And if, by chance, the cursed victim managed to produce offspring during the agonizing transitional phase, the power of the Blood Curse would persist, passed down through the veins of future generations via inherited blood ties, ensuring that the tragic, inescapable fate would be inherited by their descendants as well.

    In Bryan''s admittedly evil estimate, the Killing Curse, the Dementor''s Kiss, the agonies of the Cruciatus Curse, or the all-consuming fury of Fiendfyre itself paled inparison to the sheer cruelty inherent to the Blood Curse.

    Bryan shot a red light from his fingertips, knocking the Irish leprechaun unconscious. Though it had cost him a fortune of two thousand galleons to acquire this rare specimen, it seemed an unfortunate waste to simply "dispose" of this creature now that he had gained at least a preliminary understanding of the Blood Curse''s functions. A series of crucial derivative experiments still required the unwilling cooperation of this newly transfigured and uniquely magical creature hybrid.

    For the moment, Bryan was content to bask in the fleeting days of rtive tranquility within the secluded confines of the Ancient ck Manor. It was an ideal sanctuary, isted from the prying eyes of the world, where no one would disturb the extremely wicked magical experiments he was conducting. Even Kreacher, the increasingly devoted house-elf, regarded Bryan with a new level of admiration and respect as the aged, toothless house-elf could keenly sense the prevalent aura of strange, ominous dark magic leaking from the makeshiftboratory.

    Pure-blood wizarding families all keenly guarded their own secret stashes and traditions of Dark Arts, passed down from generation to generation. Their heirs and other members of high standing within the family were always indoctrinated and trained in these forbidden arts from a young age - Only that weirdo Sirius ck was the ck sheep of the ck family who had spurned and despised the Dark Arts.

    s, such blissful days of undisturbed productivity were always fleeting. A letter from the Wizengamot itself, forwarded through intermediary channels by Dumbledore, arrived like an ominous harbinger to abruptly put an end to Bryan''sfortable "working vacation" within the Ancestral ck Manor.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0329 Wizengamot

    0329 Wizengamot

    After nearly half a month, Bryan once again walked into the cavernous entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic building in central London.

    The immense and imposing marble entrance hall, adorned with majestic columns and grandiose architectural flourishes, was uncharacteristically bustling and swarming with people, shattering its usually solemn and hushed atmosphere. Dozens upon dozens of reporters and photographers from prestigious magical newspapers and publications around the globe, as well as a number of prominent and influential figures from the international wizardingmunity who were keenly interested in and eagerly following the highly publicized case of Peter Pettigrew, had assembled here in droves, eagerly awaiting the trial''s oue.

    Bryan had shrewdly foreseen this veritable media circus scene unfolding and had wisely disguised and concealed his appearance in advance to avoid causing an unduemotion or spectacle with his presence among the frenzied crowds.

    The Ministry, treating this trial with an unprecedented and unparalleled level of grave importance had dispatched all personnel and departmental staff not actively engaged in emergency response duties or critically essential operations to the entrance hall in a concerted effort to vigntly maintain order and control the gathered masses.

    At the entrance to the corridor leading to the elevators where Eric Munch, had been strategically stationed, the Ministry had erected sturdy magical barricades, strictly preventing any persons unrted to or uninvolved with the high-profile case from proceeding further and gaining unauthorized entry.

    Nimbly squeezing his way through the densely packed hordes of people, Bryan noticed the figure of Arthur Weasley, sweating profusely and visibly anxious, crouching tensely behind the secure barrier. The stressed Mr. Weasley''s gaze darted back and forth ceaselessly, scanning and scrutinizing the bustling crowd surrounding him, seemingly searching intently for someone or something amidst the chaos.

    "Mr. Weasley--" Bryan called out, managing to worm his way to the front of the amassed crowd. He waved his hands to attract the distracted Arthur Weasley''s attention. Facing the other man''s momentarily puzzled and questioning expression, Bryan arched an eyebrow knowingly and shed him a warm, reassuring smile, "It''s me, Bill''s old friend from school--"

    "Oh!" Mr. Weasley''s haggard face immediately lit up with a joyous expression of relief and recognition, his entire body visibly rxing and the tension ebbing away. He swiftly signaled to the vigntly guarding Auror, grabbed Bryan''s arm in a firm grip, and hurriedly ushered him through past the security barrier, leading him into the elevator hall.

    "Dumbledore mentioned that you''ve never been involved in a judicial proceeding quite like this before, so he specifically instructed me to meet and guide you through the process!" Arthur Weasley exined breathlessly as they waited for an elevator to arrive.

    Wiping away the beads of anxious sweat glistening on his forehead with the back of his hand, Mr. Weasley turned to regard Bryan appraisingly, watching as his appearance subtly morphed and reverted back to their original, undisguised form.

    "Ah, What a clever approach and prudent precaution on your part, Bryan. Where have you been, away and hidden from sight these past few days? The Wizengamot Administration Office bombarded you with over a dozen letters specifying the trial date and summons, but not a single owl could pinpoint your precise location to sessfully deliver them. Amelia Bones was at her absolute wit''s end with exasperation before she finally thought to reach out to Dumbledore for assistance¡ª" Arthur chuckled remorsefully, shaking his head slowly.

    Bryan responded with an apologetic yet self-assured smile. "I''ve been staying at the ck Manor at Number 12 Grimmauld ce, these past few days, you see. That old Manor has extremely potent and rigorous protective enchantments and concealment measures in ce. I must confess, I had indeed put this entire legal matter out of my mind until Dumbledore dispatched Headmaster ck''s portrait to notify and remind me."

    "Ah, I see now. Of course, of course," Mr. Weasley said with a nod of understanding, letting out an chuckle. "After all, this is your first time being directly involved as a participant in legal proceedings at this level!"

    As their elevator arrived with a soft chime, Arthur shoved an borately embroidered, luxurious purple-red robe into Bryan''s arms and swiftly ushered him inside, leading the way.

    "Amelia instructed me to provide you with the official robes," he exined gruffly. "Put it on quickly now, Bryan. All the members of the Wizengamot council presiding over and participating in this trial are required to don these robes¡ª"

    As the elevator began its smooth descent, Arthur continued grumbling under his breath with apparent displeasure, shaking his head as he forcefully poked the button for Level Nine with his index finger.

    "They''ve rather unnecessarily arranged for the full tribunal session to convene in the old and seldom-used Courtroom Ten, which this elevator doesn''t even directly ess. That ancient chamber has remained vacant and dormant since the downfall of You-Know-Who over a decade ago. Why, they even had to specially recall old Perkins from retirement just to meticulously clean up and prepare the dusty room to make it slightly presentable again for today''s proceedings. He''s essentially my lone assistant for this entire logistical endeavor¡ª" Arthur huffed in pointed irritation.

    "No need to be so flustered and rushed, Mr. Weasley¡ª" Bryan chuckled warmly at the other man''s characteristically flustered demeanor, his richughter filling the small elevator.

    "The Wizengamot tribunal certainly won''t outright cancel or postpone their long-awaited session simply on ount of my momentary dy orteness. Likewise, that traitor Peter Pettigrew certainly won''t evade justice and his long-overdue punishment because of me."

    The elevator smoothly glided to a halt with a soft chime, and the ceremonious voice crisply announced in clipped tones, "Department of Mysteries." Rather than offering any additional context about their destination, the emotionless female voice then fell into an expectant, foreboding silence after issuing the mere three words of introduction.

    Although the rich purple-red hue of the official Wizengamot members''s "work robes" was admittedly an atrociously garish and eye-catching shade, thevish robes nevertheless looked remarkably majestic and imposing when properly donned. The only apparent w that diminished their overall refined aesthetic was that the Ministry had seemingly forgotten to first measure and ount for Bryan''s height when preparing his robes, resulting in the deeply maroon hem to drag along the ground.

    Tugging the robes''s hem up to avoid tripping over the excess fabric, Bryan smartly reced his hat atop his head and followed closely on Arthur Weasley''s heels, striding quickly down the corridor they had emerged into. This particr corridor was eerily different in ambiance from the upper levels above, with starkly bare stone walls devoid of any doors or windows lining the chilly passage. The only visible way out was an unremarkable, simple ck door situated at the far end of the hallway. Bryan''s eyes briefly flicked appraisingly towards the unremarkable door, and a barely perceptible muscle twitched in his strong eyebrows as he silently contemted it.

    The Department of Mysteries was indeed no ordinary or harmless ce; it seemed even such a in, ordinary looking door possessed powerful magic to inherently shield itself from external magical perception and probity.

    All the way along the maze-like route they traversed, Mr. Weasley and Bryan encountered not a single soul until they rounded a sharp corner that opened onto a dimly-lit service staircase descending ever deeper below ground level.

    This secluded stairwell was suddenly heavily popted with a veritable army of security personnel. Staunchly guarding the passage and monitoring all who attempted to proceed further was the towering, broad-shouldered figure of Kingsley Shacklebolt colleague of Tonks, with whom Bryan had unexpectedly crossed paths on a couple of prior asions.

    "Good morning, Mr. Watson--" Before Bryan could speak, Kingsley greeted him with a slightly steady voice.

    "Madam Bones informed me that if I spotted you approaching to let you proceed directly through without dy,"

    Then Kingsley turned his gaze to Mr. Weasley, "I''m sorry, Arthur, but you haven''t been authorized clearance. You''ll have to stop here."

    The slightly flustered Mr. Weasley did not appear the least bit surprised or disturbed by this order, as if he had been fully expecting to be denied entry, his expression resignedly epting of the situation.

    Bryan, however, keenly aware of Arthur Weasley''s extensive connections and not-insignificant spheres of invisible influence within the ministerial bureaucracy, furrowed his brow slightly as his eyes roamed over the stern-faced hit wizards stationed at strategic intervals along the descending staircase. With a faintly puzzled expression, he turned back to Kingsley and asked,

    "Good morning to you as well, Kingsley. But is this truly necessary? We are speaking of Peter Pettigrew after all, a coward at heart, and Dumbledore himself will be overseeing the proceedings down below. He can hardly be considered a credible threat to prompt such a substantially heightened security presence--"

    "For you personally, Mr. Watson, Pettigrew''s reappearance on the scene may not elicit much concern, considering your demonstrated prowess and capability to single-handedly annihte such a substantial number of fully-transformed werewolves with rtive ease--"

    Kingsley responded, his expression growing markedly more somber and grave as he addressed Bryan''s inquiry.

    After bidding a farewell to Arthur Weasley, Kingsley turned and began leading Bryan further down the ominous stairwell into the underground depths, continuing his exnation.

    "However, it remains an undeniable fact that the Wizengamot tribunal is about to trial and pass judgment upon the most depraved, evil and cunningly ruthless Dark wizard we have encountered over this past decade since the downfall of You-Know-Who himself. Furthermore, he has already brought great disgrace to the Ministry."

    Just as the solemn Kingsley Shacklebolt had gravely stated, every single one of the stern-faced Auror security personnel stationed at rigid intervals down the spiraling stairs wore an air of utmost grimness and solemnity about them. The atmosphere was palpably thick with an unmistakable aura of preparedness to promptly employ deadly force if necessary against any potential violence that may unexpectedly erupt.

    Although Aurors were among one of the most respected, influential and admired professions within the entirety of wizarding society in the aftermath of Voldemort''s reign of terror. The newly famous Bryan Watson strode directly amidst their ranks, Yet not a single Auror sentry made any attempt to engage him in conversation as he passed, adhering strictly to ministerial protocols with dutiful vignce against any unforeseen possibilities.

    Kingsley and Bryan ultimately reached the bottom of the stairwell and proceeded further down a damp, torchlit corridor lined at intervals with more guards. The architectural style here was eerily reminiscent to the underground passages leading to the Slytherinmon room at Hogwarts ¨C rough stone walls with torches set in brackets. The doors of the rooms they passed were all heavy wooden ones, secured with iron bolts and keyholes.

    Finally, before an ominously gloomy ck door with arge, tarnished iron lock prominently affixed to its dark surface, Kingsley came to a halt and turned to directly face Bryan, offering him a crisp, respectful nod of affirmation.

    "This is the entrance, Mr. Watson. I have received no further instructions that would permit me to proceed any further myself, so I''m afraid our paths must diverge here."

    "Thank you, Kingsley--" Bryan responded with an appreciative smile, brushing past the stoic Auror unhurriedly.

    However, as his hand made contact with the icy iron doorknob, he suddenly paused and turned back towards Kingsley''s retreating figure, calling out to halt the other wizard''s departure.

    "Oh, I nearly forgot -- Kingsley, there is one small favor I may need to trouble you for, if possible..."

    "Could you perhaps help me in requesting a few days of leave time for Tonks?" Bryan inquired, his lips quirking upwards in an understated smirk as he met Kingsley''s puzzled expression directly.

    "She''s been rather... busy solving her own rtionship statustely,"

    Leaving the bewildered Kingsley to ponder the meaning behind his cryptic words, Bryan turned and surveyed the ancient courtroom chamber expansive before him.

    The cavernous room''s walls were constructed from rough bs of ck stone, giving the space an oppressively gloomy and ominous ambiance. The torchlight emanating from the sizzling wall-mounted braziers cast a dim, wavering glow that only further contributed to the courtroom''s mysterious and unsettling aura of dark formality.

    On either side of the narrow central aisle were rising tiers of elevated stone benches forming semi-circr galleries where the members of the Wizengamot would sit over the proceedings. At the highest level benches directly across from the entrance, Bryan could discern the silhouettes of dozens of robed figures engaged in hushed, indistinct murmuring amongst themselves as they awaited the trial''smencement.

    As the creaking iron-bound door slowly swung shut behind him with a resounding thud, an abrupt nket of icy silence descended over the entire courtroom. The muffled whispers and shuffling from the gathered council members instantly ceased, as all eyes turned towards the newly-arrived lone figure standing in the entrance.

    "Bryan!" came the familiar, resonant voice of Amelia Bones, cutting through the charged stillness and echoing off the limestone walls. Her formal greeting was swiftly followed by weing calls from other prominent figures Bryan had recently be acquainted with in the political and business world.

    Among the greetings, Bryan could differentiate the recognizable tones of Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself, as well as the reassuring, grandfatherly tone belonging to Dumbledore.

    After entering the room, the whispers became much louder. Many wizards pointed and whispered to each other about him. Bryan looked up, his eyes shining as he scanned the rows one by one. The majority of wizards who made eye contact with him showed friendly smiles, but some had cold expressions and remained indifferent to his presence.

    Dumbledore, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, stood behind the central podium, smiling gently at him, "Take your seat, Bryan¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0330 The Trial

    0330 The Trial

    In the grand, cavernous hall of the Wizengamot courtroom, an air of solemn dignity permeated the atmosphere. Seated prominently in the front row of borately carved chairs were the high-ranking officials of the Ministry of Magic:

    Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch, the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation and Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Behind these eminent figures sat the heads of various departments and prominent figures from all walks of life in the Wizarding World, their collective presence lending an air of solemnness to the proceedings.

    Bryan as a rtive neer to these halls, hesitated momentarily, uncertainty flickering across his face as he contemted where he should take his seat. Fortunately, Amelia gestured him over and said, "Come here, Bryan."

    The Wizengamot adhered to its own unique set of rules and protocols. Bryan, keenly aware of this, understood that the front row was clearly not intended for him. However, Fudge, his expression one of genuine friendliness, smiled and gestured for Bryan to join them, dispelling any lingering doubts. After a momentary pause, during which he briefly considered the weight of the situation, Bryan shrugged nonchntly, and made his way up the steps to the raised tform, ignoring the odd looks that followed his unconventional seating arrangement.

    The atmosphere here was heavy with solemnity. After taking his seat beside Amelia, Bryan simply nodded in acknowledgment to those he recognized, his silence a testament to the weight of the moment.

    Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, his gaze sweeping over the rows of seats behind him, confirming with a discerning eye that no one was absent. His piercing blue eyes then settled on Bryan, who sat next to the brooding Bartemius Crouch, a man whose very presence now exuded a palpable aura of coldness. With a gentle demeanor, Dumbledore spoke in a light tone, "Barty, would you like to preside?"

    Without a word, Barty Crouch rose, his face grim and resolute, and strode with purposeful steps to the judge''s bench, while Dumbledore took the newly vacated seat.

    "Let''s begin," Bartemius Crouch announced, his tone devoid of warmth, cutting through the hushed silence like a knife.

    <em>''Boring-''</em>

    Bryan, who had been observing the reactions of the Ministry offi cials with a keen eye, suddenly felt a sense of boredom wash over him. This grand trial, he realized with a touch of cynicism, was nothing more than a farce, with the victors already reaping the benefits of their triumph.

    On the opposite side of the tform, a small room stood where the prisoners were temporarily held. As Crouch announced the start of the proceedings, the iron gate of this room made a ttering sound, its echoes reverberating through the chamber as one iron pir after another slowly descended into the ground, the mechanisms of justice grinding into motion.

    Peter Pettigrew, his hands bound by coarse ropes that bit into his flesh, stood trembling as at least five wands were pointed menacingly at the back of his head.

    The flesh that he had gained during his time as Scabbers with the Weasley Family had disappeared entirely during his tormenting weeks of imprisonment, leaving him a mere shadow of his former self. Now he looked like a frail twig, a pitiful and withered figure devoid of any semnce of strength or defiance.

    As Peter walked from the darkness into the dim light, his eyes immediately widened in terror at the sight of Bartemius Crouch on the high tform and the people sitting in the front row. He immediately began to tremble uncontrobly, whimpering softly, his fear palpable and overwhelming. Had the wands at his head not been urging him forward with their unspoken threat, he likely would have copsed to the floor in a crumpled heap, overwhelmed by the weight of his circumstances.

    Bryan heard the surrounding noise suddenly grow louder, as whispers and murmurs swelled like a rising tide. Most people red at the traitor Peter with undisguised anger, their expressions twisted by rage ¨C rage for the Potters and for the deception they had suffered. The air itself seemed to crackle with their collective fury, a palpable force that threatened to consume the cowering figure before them.

    Dumbledore, however, sighed heavily, his previously erect posture now sagging slightly under the weight of some unseen burden. Many eyes were upon him, watching his every move with a mixture of pity and hidden mockery.

    A wizard with a bushy, scruffy beard spoke in an angry tone, his voice rumbling with barely contained outrage, "He doesn''t deserve any sympathy, Albus--"

    "I agree with you," Dumbledore said, blowing his nose in a gesture that seemed to embody his own weariness. His bright blue eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now brimmed with a profound sadness that cut to the very core of those who witnessed it. "But I cannot pretend to be meless, Coridell. This all could have been avoided."

    The mor subsided as a hush fell over the assembly, some sighing heavily as the weight of Dumbledore''s words washed over them, while others furtively cast scornful, disdainful looks towards the Headmaster.

    At this moment, the room from which Peter had emerged made a heavy sound of grinding stones, the very walls seeming to groan under some immense weight. Then, Sirius ck was escorted out by Dedalus.

    After not seeing each other for nearly a month, Sirius looked much worse than before. It was only natural, considering he had been imprisoned in the deepest part of the Ministry without seeing the sun, and had endured wave after wave of relentless interrogation. No one, not even the most hardened soul, could emerge from such an ordeal unscathed. His features were haggard, his eyes haunted, and his very being seemed to radiate a sense of weariness that went beyond mere physical exhaustion.

    The Daily Prophet had by now revealed the truth of that fateful night years ago, so everyone present here knew of Sirius'' innocence. The assembly''s gazes held curiosity rather than fear ¨C all except for the presiding host of this trial, Barty Crouch, whose expression remained as nk as carved stone.

    "Wretched traitor, cowardly scum!" Sirius roared, his voice a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of the courtroom.

    The Ministry had kept Sirius and Peter separated during their imprisonment, and today was the first time Sirius hadid eyes upon the man who had betrayed his dearest friends. Forgetting Bryan, who had exchanged nces with him earlier, Sirius''s rage boiled over, as an unstoppable torrent of fury propelled him forward in a desperate lunge towards the terrified Peter.

    However, Sirius''s attempt to tear Peter apart with his bare hands was destined to be unsessful. Seeing him pounce, the several Aurors guarding Peter immediately turned their wands towards him, their expressions cold and menacing, a silent warning that any further aggression would be met with swift and unforgiving retribution.

    "If you attempt to disrupt these proceedings again, I will pronounce you guilty, Sirius ck!" Bartemius Crouch responded to Sirius''s angry re with an indifferent gaze, speaking without mercy.

    Both Peter and Sirius were now strapped to stone chairs that had risen from the ground. The difference was that Peter was almost entirely bound by chains sprouting from the chair.

    "Trial of the 27th of February," Crouch began, his voice ringing out with ceremonial weight as he opened the file before him. Though he knew his reputation would be in tatters after this day, his demeanor remained steadfast and upright.

    "Interrogators: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; and Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister."

    "Court Scribe: Eric Munch--"

    Bryan raised an eyebrow in surprise, only now noticing Eric sitting rigidly in an inconspicuous corner, his lips quivering with an excitement that bordered on reverence, as if he were witnessing a sacred ritual unfold before his very eyes.

    "The defendant, Peter Pettigrew--"

    Bartemius Crouch moved his gaze away from the folder in his hand, his tough eyes fixing upon the pitiful figure of Peter, who was huddled in the chair, his form seeming to shrink under the weight of that prating stare.

    "You stand used of revealing the whereabouts of the Potters to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in October 1981, directly leading to their murders." Crouch''s voice was merciless, each word a hammer blown upon the anvil of truth. "Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

    Forget about defending himself, Peter seemed to be in a state of trance, his mind trying to escape from the harsh reality. He curled up in the chair, trying in vain to put as much distance between himself and Sirius as possible.

    "The person who previously bore this usation was Sirius ck--"

    A witch in the back rows suddenly raised her hand to address the court, drawing many eyes, including Dumbledore''s. She nodded politely to him with a respectful smile, before inquiring with a voice that carried the weight of genuine curiosity.

    "Headmaster Dumbledore, you previously provided evidence proving that Sirius ck was the secret-keeper for the Potters. But now the Ministry is prosecuting Peter Pettigrew for betraying the whereabouts of the Potters. We need to know the details."

    The Ministry already knew the truth of these matters, having uncovered the base details through their exhaustive investigations. But ording to the ancient regtions that governed these halls, either Peter or Sirius had to exin it to the Wizengamot themselves.

    And since Peter was clearly in no state to speak, Sirius had to step forward, gritting his teeth against the tide of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him as he began to recount the fateful events that had set this tragedy in motion.

    "Back then," Sirius began, his voice a ragged whisper at first, raw with the weight of remembered pain, "when we learned through intelligence that the You-Know-Who intended to kill James and Lily, Dumbledore suggested using the Fidelius Charm to conceal their location. And James trusted me, so he decided not to trouble Dumbledore and made me their Secret Keeper."

    He paused, gathering his strength, for the words that followed were like shards of ss in his mouth.

    "But at thest moment before casting the charm, I suggested they use this rat instead. Everyone knew me as the Potters''s closest friend, so I feared You-Know-Who would suspect me as their secret keeper very easily, and proposed to James and Lily that--"

    Sirius choked on his words, unable to continue, the agony of that fateful decision crushing the air from his lungs. However, the members of the Wizengamot sitting in the courtroom had already guessed the truth.

    In fact, when people saw Peter Pettigrew alive, many things became clear. But the Wizengamot couldn''t rely on spection to determine a person''s guilt; they needed cold, hard evidence.

    "This is a recorded testimony," Bartemius said, his tone allowing no argument as Dedalus handed over the magically transcribed confession. "During the interrogation of Peter Pettigrew after his arrest, Veritaserum was used to obtain this reliable statement¡ª"

    This testimony resolved most of the remaining doubts, detailing how Peter had betrayed the Potters''s location to Voldemort, how he had escaped Sirius''s vengeance afterwards, and how he had remained in hiding for twelve years.

    Listening to the horrors this ''pitiable'' figure hadmitted chilled the Wizengamot members to the bone.

    They couldn''t imagine that the cowering Peter Pettigrew slumped before them hadmitted such heinous acts.

    "Arthur doesn''t know yet--" Bryan overheard someone whispering behind him, "It''s dreadful. I''d wager Arthur won''t spare any rats in the house after learning of this!"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0331 Execution?

    0331 Execution?

    Veritaserum, the powerful truth serum potion, is a highly regted magical concoction, strictly controlled and monitored by the Ministry of Magic''s governing body. Its usage is not permitted, even during routine interrogations of ordinary criminal suspects. This potent brew is reserved solely for the interrogation of those wicked dark wizards whose very existence poses a grave and significant threat to the entire wizarding world. Only after meticulous review and explicit approval from the Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic himself, can this potion be legally administered.

    The reliability and uracy of this potion''s effects are unquestionable and beyond doubt. When the trembling, fearful voice of the used Peter Pettigrew echoed throughout the cavernous courtroom during his trial, an eerie silence descended upon the audience. In that moment, there was no lingering uncertainty in anyone''s mind regarding his guilt ¨C the potion''s effects hadid bare the factual truth.

    Bryan, overseeing the proceedings, initially thought that this trial, a mere formality at this juncture, would swiftly conclude. However, to his surprise, Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, spoke once more in amanding tone:

    "Peter Pettigrew, you shall also face a second, severe charge levied by the Ministry of Magic. In November of the previous year, for reasons unknown, you left the side of young Ron Bilius Weasley, a student currently enrolled at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You then proceeded to hide in the Owlery and, through nefarious means, employed the Imperius Curse, to establishplete mental control over Draco Malfoy, a third-year student at the school. This process of maniption and subjugation persisted for a staggering three-month period, inflicting severe and potentially irreparable harm upon young Draco Malfoy."

    Bartemius Crouch leaned forward, his sharp, prating gaze fixed intently upon the cowering form of Peter Pettigrew, as he continued his ominous statement.

    "As of the present moment, Draco Malfoy remains under medical care and treatment at the St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries, struggling to recover from the profound trauma you have inflicted upon his mind."

    Bryan''s brow furrowed slightly as he contemted the implications of this unexpected revtion. With a subtle motion of his finger, he nimbly cast a privacy charm, containing the sound around himself and Dumbledore, ensuring their conversation remained confidential.

    "Bringing this issue to light is tantamount to publicly acknowledging our failure to protect the students entrusted to our care, Headmaster Dumbledore,"

    Dumbledore''s silver-white eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly, but he calmly responded, his gaze unwavering, "We must acknowledge, Bryan, that Hogwarts has indeed failed in its duty to safeguard its students. If we are to face criticism for this gap, it is a burden we must bear with humility and resolve."

    Bryan emitted a cold snort, a strange, fleeting glint passing through his eyes as he stared at Barty Crouch''s rigid back with unveiled contempt.

    ''Fudge and Amelia seem rather taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. This was likely not an issue they had nned to raise publicly. Could it be due to Lucius Malfoy? Did he bribe Barty Crouch to pile on more charges against Peter?''

    Bryan''s expression grew increasingly cold and inscrutable as he continued to analyze the situation.

    If that were the case, then Lucius Malfoy had done something utterly foolish. Since he had already approached him, turning around to privately find the aid of Barty Crouch clearly demonstrates hisck of trust in his capabilities andmitment to this matter.

    Although Lucius''s trust was worthless to him, but such behavior was a contempt to Bryan.

    "Due to the unfortunate events involving his son Draco, Lucius cannot tolerate the thought of Peter being imprisoned in Azkaban, so¡ª"

    "If you truly understood the motivations and character of Barty as I do," Dumbledore interrupted, his tone gentle yet firm, "you would not make such assumptions regarding his intentions."

    "Sirius''s wrongful imprisonment was a grave mistake, a blemish upon old Barty''s reputation second only to the shame and disgrace brought upon him by the actions of his own misguided son. Cornelius hopes that old Barty will take responsibility for the Ministry''s errors and misjudgments. However, a wizard of Barty''s stature and pride would never allow his hard-earned reputation to plummet easily."

    Bryan blinked, understanding what Dumbledore meant.

    As a high-ranking official within the Ministry of Magic, the disgrace of having a son who was a devoted follower of Voldemort, a Death Eater, had already inflicted a grievous wound upon Barty Crouch''s honor and public standing. The subsequent mockery of misjudging Sirius ck''s case and condemning an innocent man to the horrors of Azkaban had further branded him as a "old fool" in the eyes of the wizarding world. It was now evident that the resolute Barty Crouch was not resigned to this tarnished reputation and wanted to undertake a bold, eye-catching action to regain the support and respect of some radical or other influential figures within the wizardingmunity.

    And it turned out just as Bryan expected.

    "Peter Pettigrew, you stand used of the most heinous and unforgivable crimes: revealing the secret whereabouts of the Potters to the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, an act that directly led to their brutal murders; the wanton and unconscionable killing of multiple innocent Muggles; and the use of the Imperius Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses, upon an underage wizard. For these cumtive crimes against the wizarding world and its values, the rmended sentence is execution!"

    As Barty Crouch''s chilling words reverberated through the vast stone chamber, an eerie, prolonged silence descended upon the courtroom. Many in attendance stared in disbelief at Barty Crouch''s stern, unyielding face, their expressions a mixture of shock, outrage, and dawningprehension ¨C including the stunned Sirius ck, seated in the used''s chair below.

    During his days of unjust imprisonment and torment within the confines of Ministry custody, Sirius had already realized that the traitorous Peter had likely saved his skin. So many Death Eaters, guilty ofmitting heinous and unforgivable crimes, had been sentenced to lifelong imprisonment within the confines of Azkaban; it seemed highly unlikely that the members of the Wizengamot would make a special ''exception'' for Peter.

    But now, the very same Bartemius Crouch, who had personally and unjustly sentenced him to the horrors of Azkaban, was actually proposing to the jury that Peter be sentenced to death. Sirius stared at Bartemius Crouch in utter disbelief, not knowing whether to resent him or thank him.

    "Wait, Barty, this was not what we discussed previously. ording to the establishedws and precedents, he should be sentenced to Life Imprisonment!"

    Finally, Fudge snapped out of his stunned daze. He abruptly stood up from his chair, leaning forward with an expression of worry etched upon his features as he hurriedly spoke, his lips curling with displeasure at this unexpected turn of events.

    Simultaneously, the full impact of Bartemius Crouch''s unprecedented rmendation began to reverberate throughout the courtroom. For the first time since Bryan had entered these chambers, the level of noise andmotion escted dramatically as a disharmony of voices erupted from the assembled witches and wizards.

    Contrary to Bryan''s expectations, there appeared to be a significant number of attendees who voiced their passionate support for the extreme measure of the death penalty. Many of the attending wizards and theirpanions turned red-faced with enthusiasm, vehemently arguing whether Peter Pettigrew should be sentenced to death or condemned to lifelong imprisonment in Azkaban.

    "What is your opinion on this matter, Dumbledore?" Fudge inquired, hastily wiping the beads of nervous sweat from his furrowed brow as he remembered to seek Duumbledore''s opinion on this vtile issue.

    The death penalty, an punishment of such extreme and irreversible finality, had not been carried out for many years within the British Wizarding world. Once the precedent was established by sentencing Peter Pettigrew to execution, it would undoubtedly open the floodgates, bringing with it a list of disadvantages and controversies that Fudge, the current Minister of Magic, couldn''t afford. He dared not risk provoking the ire and outrage of more moderate factions by appearing overly strict or draconian in his administration of justice.

    "Now, let the esteemed members of the jury cast their votes without further dy!"

    Recognizing Fudge''s tant attempt to entangle Dumbledore into publicly taking a controversial stance, Barty swiftly denied him the opportunity. With an insistent gesture, he called for an immediate vote from the assembled jury members, allowing no further discourse or debate on the matter.

    Peter''s muddled mind finally seemed to clear somewhat as the implications of the situation became apparent to him. He covered his face with trembling hands, not daring to observe the raising of hands that would determine his ultimate fate. The shrill, piercing sound of wailing cries echoed in the air, heightening the already palpable tension within the chamber.

    None of the individuals seated in the front row raised their hands in favor of the death sentence, including the stoic figure of Bryan. He didn''t need to reveal his intentions in this situation.

    This was merely a performance. Barty Crouch did not actually expect the members of Wizengamot to approve the rmendation of death for Peter Pettigrew; he only wanted to express his firm stance against evil.

    "Very well," Barty Crouch dered, his stern face betraying no hint of emotion or disappointment at the oue thus far. "Those in favor of sentencing Peter Pettigrew to lifelong imprisonment, raise your hands ordingly."

    This time, the vast majority of individuals assembled within the courtroom ordingly raised their hands in solemn affirmation, supporting the more measured proposal of a lifetime of imprisonment for Peter.

    Upon witnessing this oue, Peter broke into wails once more¡ªearlier out of fear of execution, but now out of sheer joy and relief!

    He had managed to narrowly escape from death, even if he would now be imprisoned for life to Azkaban, as long as he was alive, there was hope!

    Peter was promptly seized and dragged away by the grim-faced Aurors who were guarding him. Now that the trial had reached its conclusion, these elite Aurors would immediately execute the binding decision handed down by the members of the Wizengamot. They would escort the disheveled form of Peter Pettigrew to the Department of Mysteries, situated on the ninth level deep underground within the Ministry where a room housed the portkey to Azkaban.

    Fudge let out a long sigh of relief. Regardless of the circumstances, the death penalty had been stopped. The Ministry of Magic, which he led, would not face criticism for this. Fudge showed a grimace of a smile to Barty, indicating that he could end the trial. However, Barty Crouch did something unexpected once again.

    Ignoring Fudge''s pointed hint to bring the affair to a conclusion, Bartemius Crouch turned his stern face toward the dejected figure of Sirius ck, his face twisted into an unmistakable expression of deep-seated loathing and contempt. The sudden words that followed left the members of the jury who had just rxed stunned:

    "Sirius ck, you shall face an additional charge levied by the Ministry of Magic ¨C that of the illegal study and unauthorized use of the Animagus transformation ability!"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0332 Fierce Confrontation

    0332 Fierce Confrontation

    If one were to ask what the Ministry of Magic was most concerned about in this series of events, it certainly was not the innocence of the infamous Sirius ck, nor was it the shocking revtion that Peter Pettigrew, who had been posthumously bestowed with the prestigious Order of Merlin, First ss, for his alleged heroic demise, was the actual culprit. Above all else, the Ministry''s primary concern was how Sirius ck managed to escape from Azkaban.

    The Azkaban prison, guarded by the soul-sucking Dementors¡ªthose fear-inducing, sinister creatures whose mere presence could inflict unimaginable psychological torment upon even the most hardened of individuals. This dreadful ce served as a sharp, double-edged de in the Ministry''s arsenal, a tool tomand awe and respect through sheer intimidation. The ce was abhorrent, a true embodiment of despair, loathed by all who knew of its existence. But precisely because of this, the Ministry wielded immense power and influence, their authority bolstered by the prospect of condemningwbreakers to the merciless confines of Azkaban.

    Take the cases of Hagrid or Remus, for example. In terms of sheer magical prowess, they were both aplished and formidable wizards, individuals who might not cower in the face of death itself. Yet, the mere thought of Azkaban and its soul-leeching guardians was undoubtedly a source of dread for them too.

    And now, a wizard had somehow managed to shatter Azkaban''s Legend by achieving the seemingly impossible¡ªa sessful escape from its clutches. This unprecedented feat had, to a certain degree, shaken the very foundations upon which the Ministry''s governance rested, casting doubt upon the security of their most potent instrument of control.

    Therefore, after taking custody of Sirius ck from Bryan and Dumbledore, Fudge, immediately issued an order to Rufus Scrimgeour, demanding that he employ every resource at his disposal to get to the bottom of this matter and find out how he escaped.

    Barty Crouch, one of the three most powerful and influential officials within the ranks of the Ministry, was also embroiled in these events. He was a man privy to all those secrets, but no one expected him to suddenly turn against them at thest moment.

    Dumbledore did not seem particrly surprised by these unfolding developments. For these Ministry officials who now wielded power had, in a sense, grown and matured under his watchful gaze. He possessed a close understanding of their character, their motivations, and how they would inevitably respond to various situations. In stark contrast, Fudge''s reaction could only be described as one of sheer, unadulterated panic.

    "We had an agreement, did we not?" Fudge spluttered, his face flushed with anger, his rapid breaths punctuating each word. "To let this matter go, aspensation for his twelve years of wrongful imprisonment!"

    Amelia Bones, too, furrowed her brow, her gaze fixed upon the side of her colleague''s face. She was visibly annoyed, her displeasure evident, by Barty Crouch''s unteral actions, which had tantly breached their previous consensus.

    Barty Crouch, however, seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that he had be the unwitting center of attention, the focal point of everyone''s scrutiny. His gaze, cold and impassive, was fixed upon the equally caught-off-guard Sirius ck standing before him.

    "Sirius ck, I assume you are aware that the Ministry of Magic has established stringentws to regte the dangerous andplex Transfiguration magic of Animagi, correct?"

    Crouch''s voice resonated throughout the chamber, each syble dripping with authority.

    "Yes, I am aware¡ª" Sirius ck responded, his brow furrowed in contemtion, as he nced towards Dumbledore and Bryan, both of whom stood coolly behind Barty Crouch, their demeanors showing no hint of surprise at Crouch''s unconventional behavior. Sensing theirposure, Sirius''s own sudden tension gradually dissipated, and he stared back at Barty Crouch with unwavering determination, refusing to disy any semnce of weakness.

    "You know that the first sessful transformation of an Animagus must be meticulously supervised by the Ministry and, if achieved, must be registered, correct?" Crouch''s piercing gaze bore into Sirius, his words carrying the weight of authority.

    "Yes, I know," Sirius affirmed, his voice steady and resolute.

    "And you''re aware of the fact that viting this crucial regtion could result in prosecution by the Ministry, correct?"

    "Yes, I''m aware¡ª"

    "When did you master this magic?"

    "At the age of sixteen, when I was studying at Hogwarts."

    Barty Crouch paused his aggressive questioning, and the members of the jury gasped in astonishment upon hearing Sirius''s answer, their expressions showing their disbelief.

    It''s worth noting that the Animagus transformation ranks among one of the most challenging and arduous forms of transfiguration magic, a feat that demands immense skill, unwavering focus, and an innate talent for the arcane arts. For Sirius, as well as the recently imprisoned Peter Pettigrew, to have sessfullypleted this extraordinarilyplex transformation relying solely on their own efforts while they were still young wizards studying at Hogwarts was a true testament to their prodigious magical aptitude, a feat that few could ever hope to match.

    "The teaching quality at Hogwarts is indeedmendable, Albus?" Someone from the noisy crowd quietly remarked to Dumbledore, offering him a respectful nod of acknowledgment, apanied by a subtle thumbs-up gesture.

    "Thank you for the praise, but Hogwarts did not provide them with much assistance in this particr matter¡ª" Dumbledore replied, his words punctuated by a conspiratorial wink and a mischievous knowing smile.

    While most in attendance were still astonished from the revtion of Sirius''s extraordinary magical talent, there were those shrewd individuals within the courtroom who had discerned the true intent behind Barty Crouch Sr.''s decision to dig up old events during Peter''s trial, that too at a moment when all eyes were fixed upon him.

    When Sirius had been arrested years ago, Crouch was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He had been highlymended for his unwavering stance against the dark forces. It was he who had issued the order to have Sirius ck imprisoned in Azkaban without even going through the necessary trial procedures.

    Barty Crouch leaned forward, his hands gripping the stand before him, as he fixed his authoritative gaze upon Sirius ck below. His meticulously trimmed, thin mustache twitched upwards, a subtle hint of his rumbling emotions.

    "Sirius ck, twelve years ago, you were sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban by the Ministry for being deemed the perpetrator responsible for the deaths of James and Lily Potter. During this time, did you ever reveal to anyone that you were not the Potters''s Secret Keeper?"

    "No, at the time, I¡ª" Sirius had realized that something was amiss. He attempted to evade the question, but he could not resist the overbearing interrogation from this high-ranking and powerful Ministry official.

    "Answer me!" Crouch demanded, his expression stern and unyielding, the furrows on his eyebrow deepening as his voice resonated with the full weight of his authority. "Can it be understood that you knew of your own innocence, yet chose to remain silent, failing to exin the truth to anyone because you feared a thorough investigation by the Wizengamot? Were you gripped by fear at the prospect of exposing yourself as an illegal, unregistered Animagus in direct vition of thews you were duty-bound to uphold?"

    "That''s not it at all!" Sirius finally shouted angrily.

    "I did not say anything because I believed myself to be guilty¡ªwhat I mean to say is that I believed myself to be responsible for James''s¡ªno, for James''s and Lily''s deaths caused by my own foolish suggestion. I believed, at that time, that I deserved to be punished. That was the belief that consumed me in those dark moments!"

    Dumbledore sighed helplessly, a heavy exhtion that seemed to convey his helplessness in the face of Sirius''s actions, which, though born of noble intentions, were so fundamentally contrary tomon sense and reason. Although it had now been irrefutably proven that Sirius was indeed innocent of the crimes for which he had been condemned, Sirius''s own testimony still carried some weight in the eyes of the majority of the members of the Wizengamot.

    Dumbledore rose from his seat, preparing to say something but Bryan suddenly grasped his arm, his subtly shaking head conveying a silent message not to intervene just yet.

    "There''s no need to intervene, Headmaster. Someone will handle this situation,"

    "I object!" Bryan had barely finished speaking when Madam Bones sprang to her feet, her formidable presencemanding the attention of all present. Her brow was deeply furrowed, creasing the skin around her sses, which had left a prominent red mark etched into the flesh of her eye socket, a testament to the intensity of her focus. She red sternly at Crouch, who met her gaze with an indifferent, nk expression that showed no sign of emotion.

    "Your questioning is seriously misleading, and your conclusionsck any reliable factual basis, Mr. Crouch!" Madam Bones''s voice thundered through the chamber, each word dripping with righteous indignation and condemnation.

    The courtroom erupted inmotion, a turbulent sea of murmurs and whispers rose that threatened to drown out all semnce of order. The members of the jury, those individuals present to bear witness to Peter''s Trial, stared incredulously at the two high-ranking officials of the Ministry of Magic who now found themselves locked in open confrontation.

    This incident had escted far beyond the boundaries of a mere legal proceeding, transcending into a very serious political event. Within the halls of the Wizengamot courtroom, under the watchful eyes of numerous attendees whose gazes burned with intensity, the two department heads¡ªonce considered the trusted right and left hands of the Minister of Magic himself¡ªwere openly shing, their ideological differencesid bare for all to witness. The impact of this event, the repercussions it would inevitably unleash, were severe and far-reaching, threatening to shake the very foundations of the Ministry''s authority.

    Cornelius Fudge''s forehead glistened with beads of sweat, and his cheeks were flushed, revealing the profound difort and anxiety that gripped him in the face of this unfolding crisis. His voice trembled as he attempted to intervene, to restore some semnce of order to the proceedings.

    "B-Barty, I think¡ªI think Amelia''s view is correct. You¡ª"

    But Crouch would not be so easily dissuaded. He stood resolute, his eyes bulging with anger,

    "I do not believe there are any substantive issues with my questioning or the conclusions I have drawn, Madam Bones," Crouch thundered, his voice reverberating through the chamber like a p of thunder.

    "As every soul present is keenly aware, no one is truly unafraid of the horrors that await in Azkaban, nor of the relentless torment inflicted by its inhuman guards. Sirius ck''s concealment of the truth regarding the Potters''s deaths suggests that he carries a deeper guilt. The undeniable fact that he is an illegal, unregistered Animagus serves as irrefutable proof that he is not the upright,w-abiding wizard he ims to be. His testimony, therefore, cannot be considered credible or reliable."

    Turning his attention towards Madam Bones, Crouch''s expression hardened, as he shot an usatory re in her direction. "As the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Bones, you should possess a keen eye for detecting even the slightest hint of criminal activities. I would strongly suggest that the Ministry re-interrogate Sirius ck with the utmost rigor, in order to uncover whatever truths he may still be trying to conceal!"

    "That''s absurd¡ª" Fudge gasped, shaking his head fervently, his already flushed face reddening further as he struggled to maintain hisposure in the face of Crouch''s assault.

    "I know precisely what you''re trying to do, Barty," Fudge pressed on, his voice strained with the weight of his frustration. "You want to prove that sending ck to Azkaban twelve years ago was the right decision, but¡ª"

    "This is a serious nder, Minister Fudge!" Barty Crouch''s voice cut through the Minister''s words like a razor-sharp de, his eyes shing with indignation at the implication behind Fudge''s statement.

    Raising his head boldly, Crouch''s gaze swept over the assembled jury below, each syble dripping with icy anger as he spoke.

    "Perhaps some believe that I am acting out of a sense of personal vengeance, but I would like you all to remember that throughout my long career, there is ample evidence of my consistent and unwavering loathing for those who choose to break thews we have sworn to uphold. Lawbreakers, regardless of their position or perceived justification, have always been the object of my deepest scorn."

    Crouch paused, his chest heaving with the force of his convictions, before continuing, "Of course, I do not wish to conceal the fact that my decision to send Sirius ck to Azkaban in the face of the Potters''s deaths was a grave error, a mistake born of haste and iplete information. So, at this very moment!--"

    His eyes sparkled with a passion that bordered on fanatical as he shouted to the assembled masses, "To take full responsibility for my actions, I hereby announce my immediate resignation from the ranks of the Wizengamot judiciary body. But I urge each and every one of you, members of this esteemed jury, to give serious consideration to my statements regarding Sirius ck himself!

    Do not allow the truth to be obscured by sentiment or misced sympathy!"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0333 End of Trial

    0333 End of Trial

    Barty Crouch''s resounding words left many people at a loss, including Cornelius Fudge.

    During the prior negotiations, a consensus had been reached that Barty Crouch would be excluded from the ranks of the Wizengamot judiciary, though this banishment would only take effect after the highly anticipated trial of Peter Pettigrew. Once the dust had settled in the aftermath of that legal proceeding, It was then that the Ministry would orchestrate a meticulous campaign to sway the collective public opinion, thereby holding Crouch ountable for the wrongfully convicted Sirius ck.

    This form of exclusion was intended as a penal<em>(punishment)</em> measure, a meticulously crafted exnation offered by the Ministry to the denizens of the Wizarding World. However, in a bold and audacious maneuver, Barty Crouch explicitly proimed his resignation from the Wizengamot before the assembled court, as if he were an oppressed minority being ostracized.

    <em>''A clever move indeed--''</em>

    Had the setting been more appropriate, Bryan would have apuded Barty Crouch Sr.''s performance.

    While Barty Crouch''s words and actions on this day might have failed to deceive the truly intelligent and discerning individuals present, he nheless managed to retain the people''s heart and steadfast support of the masses, both within the department and throughout the Wizarding World ¨C a foundation upon which his eventualeback could be built.

    In that moment, even Bryan found himself momentarily pondering the notion of whether a Minister for Magic with Barty Crouch''s character might be better suited to rallying the troops and bolstering morale if the war broke out.

    However, this fleeting thought was swiftly dismissed, as Bryan recognized that while Barty Crouch possessed exceptional wisdom and insight, his various disys had revealed him to be headstrong and upromising individual. Someone like that wouldn''t be easily influenced by him, whereas Amelia Bones, inparison, would be more likely to value his opinions.

    Barty Crouch then proceeded to march out of the courtroom, his every step observed by the watchful gazes of those assembled, leaving the silent Wizengamot members to stare at one another in a state of utter bewilderment and dismay.

    "Hey, don''t walk away, Crouch!" Sirius, thinking under the misconception that Barty Crouch''s anger was directed solely at him, leapt up from his seat, angrily shouting at Crouch''s retreating back, "I didn''t lie, and I didn''tmit any heinous crimes either. Back then, I only wanted to atone for James and Lily''s deaths!"

    "Sirius--"

    Both Dumbledore and Bryan, despite their reluctance to be embroiled in the intense political struggle unfolding within the Ministry, found themselves unable to remain idle bystanders as the Wizengamot contemted consigning the innocent Sirius ck back to the confines of Azkaban.

    In this precarious situation, Dumbledore''s authority was unquestionable. When he rose to his feet, every soul present understood that he was going to make the final, decisive verdict.

    Dumbledore gestured Sirius to remain silent, then turned to face the assembled Wizengamot jury, his gaze sweeping over their ranks as he spoke:

    "Regarding the final usation leveled by Mr. Crouch, from what I know, after Sirius ck was detained by the Ministry, the experienced and battle-hardened Aurors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement subjected him to a grueling three-week-long interrogation. During the course of this intensive questioning, no evidence of Sirius ck''s past involvement in any heinous crimes, except for the vition of being an unregistered Animagus, was uncovered."

    Dumbledore''s tone remained gentle as he calmly stated these words, his piercing gaze settling upon Madam Bones.

    Amelia, recognizing that the mantle had been passed to her, likewise turned to address the jury, her voice ringing out with conviction:

    "Headmaster Dumbledore is correct. The Aurors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, operating under the jurisdiction of Magical Law Enforcement Squad, employed a myriad of interrogation techniques, including the administration of Veritaserum and the meticulous extraction of memories, to conclusively confirm that Sirius ck had notmitted any crimes beyond the transgression of being an unregistered Animagus."

    "Thank you--"

    Dumbledore offered a polite nod of acknowledgment to Madam Bones before continuing his address, his voice resonating through the chamber:

    "I firmly believe that Sirius ck bears no legal liability for the tragic affair involving the Potters. Of course, we are all in agreement that he is indeed an unregistered Animagus, having using this ability without the Ministry''s certified permission. Cornelius, has the Ministry reached a determination to prosecute Sirius based on this particr vition?"

    "What? Oh, the Animagus thing? We--we''ve decided not to prosecute, Dumbledore. But, um, we''ll fine him."

    Cornelius, still seething from the audacious performance that Barty had orchestrated, found himself caught off guard when Dumbledore''s voice rang out, addressing him directly, causing him to stammer his response.

    "Very well, then--" Dumbledore''s tone abruptly swelled in volume, his booming inquiry resounding through the chamber, "Let us put this matter to a vote by a show of hands -- all those in favor of dering Sirius ck innocent and pardoning him of any and all charges, raise your hands!"

    Dumbledore himself wasted no time, immediately raising his hand in a show of support, an action swiftly followed by Bryan, Madam Bones, and the reluctant Fudge, who eventually acquiesced and raised his hand as well.

    It was as if a tidal wave had swept over the trial panel. From the front row to the back, the assembled witches and wizards rose to their feet one by one, their hands thrust skyward in a gesture of support. Sirius, observing the proceedings from his vantage point below, swallowed hard as each raised hand caused his heart to thump forcefully within his chest.

    Fresh from his ordeal in Azkaban, Sirius had initially been indifferent to the prospect of imprisonment or freedom. But over the course of his time spent in thepany of Remus and Bryan, he had gradually rekindled the embers of hope within his soul. After all, he had a responsibility, did he not? James and Lily''s son -- young Harry -- was still waiting for him, yearning for the care and guidance that only Sirius could provide!

    "Forty-two in favor, three abstentions!"

    Eric Munch, whose fortunes had been reversed thanks to Bryan''s intervention, announced the result with a voice tinged with a slight tremor of emotion.

    "Excellent!" Dumbledore eximed joyfully. Casting his gaze down upon the flushed and exhrated face of Sirius, he dered in a ringing tone, "All charges have been dropped. You have been dered innocent by the Wizengamot, Sirius--"

    "Oh, thank you!" Sirius''s mouth stretched into a wide, beaming grin, his features twisting in an expression akin to his canine Animagus form. He clenched his fist and pumped it fiercely, his entire being radiating an aura of unrestrained tion.

    The moment Dumbledore proimed Sirius''s innocence, the somber and solemn atmosphere that had permeated the courtroom dissipated, reced by a palpable sense of liveliness and harmony. The numerous members''s gazes, which had previously been fixed upon Sirius with a mixture of curiosity and nervousness, now regarded him with a newfound sense of intrigue. Some even wanted to engage with him in conversation, after all, he was the sole direct descendant of the Most Ancient and noble ck family. However, before anyone could make their approach, Bryan had already taken the initiative, striding towards Sirius ck.

    "Congrattions on regaining your hard-won freedom, Sirius--" Bryan said, his voice warm as he extended a congrattory pat upon Sirius''s shoulder, a sincere smile gracing his features.

    "Thanks to you, Bryan!" Sirius responded, his lips curling into a grateful expression. "If it weren''t for you -- I mean, if you hadn''t stumbled upon me in Shrieking Shack -- Merlin only knows how this whole sleazy affair might have unfolded!"

    "I hope you''ll be more rational in the future¡ª"

    Bryan said and it was at that precise moment that Dumbledore, having concluded his exchange of pleasantries with the flustered Fudge, strode over to join them, a gentle smile ying upon his features.

    "Before making my way here, I paid a visit to St. Mungo''s," Dumbledore began, his tone suffused with warmth. "Remus is very concerned about your affairs. I believe it would be most fitting for you to see himter and tell this joyous news to him directly."

    "I will, Dumbledore," Sirius affirmed, inhaling deeply as a palpable air of excitement infused his words. "I must confess, the sensation of no longer beingpelled to conceal myself in the shadows is utterly liberating. This oue is indeed joyous. Of course," he added, his expression hardening slightly, "that treacherous rat Pettigrew is still alive--"

    <strong>ng!</strong>

    The trial had reached its conclusion, and as the assembled members of the Wizengamot exchanged amiable greetings with familiar faces and made preparations to depart, an abrupt and startling sound reverberated through the chamber. The iron door leading into the courtroom, which had previously been firmly secured, was suddenly flung open from the outside with tremendous force.

    In the astonished gaze of all present, the disheveled figure of Dedalus Diggle burst through the open portal, having mere moments ago been tasked with escorting the convicted Peter Pettigrew away from the proceedings. Diggle''s robes were tattered and torn, his face smeared with streaks of dirt, and a crimson rivulet of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth¨C his expression one of sheer terror and fright.

    Bryan''s eyelids twitched almost imperceptibly, the corners of his mouth shifting in the barest of movements as he registered Diggle''s rming appearance.

    <strong>"Peter Pettigrew is dead!"</strong>

    Diggle''s words detonated like a veritable bombshell in the midst of the courtroom, the shockwaves rippling outward and causing a profound disturbance. Different voices erupted as numerous individuals simultaneously voiced their disbelief, demanding an exnation for this startling statement. Fudge himself, ovee by panic, leapt down from the elevated tform in a frenzy, seizing Diggle by the cor of his tattered robes and shaking him with frantic urgency.

    "Calm yourself, Cornelius!" Dumbledore''smanding tone cut through the mayhem as he swiftly crossed the distance separating them, leaving the dazed Sirius in his wake. His voice steady and authoritative, he addressed the distraught Diggle, "Please exin the situation for us, Dedalus. Could it be that the Dementors guarding Azkaban have once again lost control?"

    "No-- no-- not Azkaban--" Diggle responded, his demeanor one of utter dejection and lost confusion as he attempted to collect his wits.

    "We were merely in the process of escorting Peter to the chamber within the Department of Mysteries that houses the Portkeys, preparing to transport him to Azkaban. But, someone had maliciously tampered with the key designated for that destination. Instead of delivering us to Azkaban''s shores, the cursed artifact led us to a deste mountain wilderness."

    As he ryed these chilling details, Diggle''s eyes widened further, his expression one of extreme horror reminiscent of one who has witnessed unspeakable terrors.

    "We realized something was amiss and prepared to Disapparate away, but-- but then--" Diggle''s voice wavered, trembling with unrestrained dread, "...a gigantic Skeleton, towering as high as a mountain, materialized before our very eyes. Its massive palm pped down upon us. We scattered, each of us dodging that blow, but... Peter Pettigrew..."

    Diggle reached his trembling hand into the tattered folds of his robes, and pulled out a bloody, severed finger.

    "This is all that''s left of him."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0334 Aftermath

    0334 Aftermath

    The gusty winds of winter had finally relented, ushering in the long-awaited arrival of March. The recent weekend''s Quidditch match could be considered a triumphant redemption for Oliver Wood and the entirety of the resilient Gryffindor Quidditch team members.

    As the term started, the Gryffindor squad had emerged victorious against the Ravenw team. However, in a surprising turn of events, Ravenw had subsequently defeated Hufflepuff, providing the Gryffindors, who had previously suffered a devastating loss the prior term due to the terrifying dementor attack, another coveted opportunity to seize the Quidditch Cup.

    This amazing result left an overwhelming majority of the young Gryffindor wizards immersed in an ocean of jubnt joy and celebration. Even Harry had briefly forgotten about the extensive and relentless coverage in the Daily Prophet concerning the ongoing investigation into the unexpected death of that traitorous scoundrel, Peter Pettigrew.

    The Monday afternoon''s Potions ss, typically a tense and unpleasant affair, was more pleasant and tolerable than usual, perhaps due to the fact that Draco had finally returned to school to attend sses, so Snape didn''t have the mindset to torment Harry too much. The two arduous Potions sses passed peacefully, and when the young wizards eagerly rushed out of the damp, oppressive dungeons onto the expansive grounds, the sky remained brilliantly illuminated by the golden rays of the sun.

    The gentle evening breeze of this delightful season had effectively shed winter''s biting chill, with two or three months still remaining before the oppressive heat of summer would descend upon the castle grounds. The temperate climate was utterlyfortable and alluring, prompting many young wizards to seize the opportunity before the evening meal to leisurely stroll through the elegant courtyards, along the tranquil shores of the glisteningke, and along the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

    On the meticulously trimmedwns, quite a significant number of young wizards had brought their broomsticks to hone their flying skills, harboring aspirations of one day representing their House team in the Quidditch matches.

    "Go fetch your Firebolt and Nimbus, Harry, let''s join in!" eximed Ron with palpable excitement as the cheerful Gryffindor group stepped out of the grand entrance hall onto the highest step of the majestic marble staircase, overlooking the jubnt scene unfolding on the lush grasswn, now revitalized by the refreshing spring breeze.

    It was quite strange¨C in the past, whenever the topic of Quidditch arose, Harry''s enthusiasm was unmatched by anyone. However, on this particr asion, he seemed somewhat disinterested.

    "Um ¨C good idea, Ron ¨C"

    Harry cast a fleeting nce in the direction of the school gate and absentmindedly uttered, "You know where I keep them, you can go fetch them."

    Ron didn''t realize anything was wrong and happily epted the proposal. He, apanied by Seamus and Neville, turned their heads and rushed up the stairs with great enthusiasm. After all, every opportunity toe into direct contact with a world-ss broomstick like Firebolt was rare.

    <strong>Snap!</strong>

    Hermione, who had been diligently studying sinceing from the damp dungeons, closed her book with a resounding snap. She briefly nced at Harry and inhaled a deep breath of the refreshing evening air.

    "Want to chat, Harry?"

    "Oh!" Harry was mildly surprised by the unexpected invitation. "Sure, what do you want to talk about?"

    Rather than standing dumbly at the entrance, the two descended the steps, circumventing the loud group of young wizards passionately practicing their flying maneuvers on the expansivewn, and made their way toward the tranquil shore of theke.

    A light, refreshing breeze wanderedzily over the lush grounds. Ripples formedyer uponyer on the vast, ssy surface of the ck Lake, resembling a great, wrinkled golden silk sheet glistening in the dazzling reflection of the setting sun.

    They both took a seat on a sizable lump of earth approximately fifty feet from thekeshore. Hermione retrieved the well-worn book filled with meticulous annotations and began to read carefully, her brow furrowed in concentration.

    "You''ve been reading this particr book quite frequently as ofte, what''s it about?" Harry found it a bit strange that Hermione had suggested a casual chat, yet she was now fully immersed in reading a book. So, after a moment''s thought, he decided to start the conversation.

    "Simplified Theory of Ancient Spells," Hermione said, showing him the cover.

    "The content is quite profound, especially the annotations, but I''ve started to find it absolutely fascinating recently¡ª"

    Hermione brushed away the wayward strands of hair dancing whimsically in front of her eyes and continued calmly.

    "Ah, that''s the one Professor Watson gave you¡ª" Harry immediately recalled that this book was a gift from Professor Watson.

    Hermione nodded, still focused on the beautiful handwriting in the book, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if she was thinking hard. After a long time, she finally turned to the next page.

    "You''ve been out of sortstely, Harry¡ª" Hermione broached the topic directly, her voice tinged with concern, "Are you still thinking about the dark wizard who killed that traitor?"

    Harry pursed his lips and did not immediately provide a response to the probing inquiry.

    Well, Hermione''s supposition was not entirely inurate, just iplete. After the unexpected news of Peter Pettigrew''s untimely death was published in the Daily Prophet, the entire Wizarding world, including the once-peaceful grounds of Hogwarts, was immediately plunged into a state of utter turmoil and pandemonium.

    Everyone, from the most renowned intellectuals to the humblest of students, were enthusiastically discussing and specting as to the identity of the individual who could havemitted the murder of Peter Pettigrew, who had overnight transitioned from a celebrated war hero to a detested and despised traitor Death-Eater. The most widely epted and widespread theory circting was that one of the former fanatical followers of Voldemort, those who had once pledged their unwavering allegiance to his evil cause, had taken their brutal vengeance upon the treacherous rat.

    After Voldemort''s catastrophic downfall, the vast majority of his devoted Death Eaters, those who remained fanatically loyal to him, were swiftly detained and imprisoned within the confines of Azkaban prison. Some of the more cunning and duplicitous individuals imed to have no ties to Voldemort, or asserted that their actions were the result of being ced under the Imperius Curse. A very small number of wizards managed to conceal their allegiance so deeply that their past wrongdoings went entirely undiscovered by the authorities.

    Peter had now effectively "reced" the previously notorious Sirius ck as the most trusted and devoted henchman of the one who shall not be named, and he undoubtedly possessed intimate knowledge of the identities of those individuals who had managed to evade capture. Therefore, after Peter''s arrest, in a desperate bid to receive a more lenient punishment, he was likely to betray them and disclose their identities to the authorities. After all, there existed ample precedent for such betrayals before.

    In anticipation of this inevitable oue, it was only natural for those wizards who had sessfully evaded detection to take preemptive measures and eliminate Peter, permanently silencing him before he could implicate them with him.

    Peter''s murder on the way to Azkaban was an unmitigated disaster and great humiliation for the Ministry of Magic. Itpletely shattered thepetent and capable image that the Ministry had barely managed to cultivate in the period of the Greyback incident. The Minister of Magic and the other high-ranking officials werepletely enraged and vowed to identify and capture the culprit within the span of a month.

    However, wizards intimately familiar with the Ministry''s notorious track record of uselessness and ipetence knew that their impressive promises were utterly untrustworthy and dubious at best ¨C this was likely to be yet another unsolved cold case, destined to fall in obscurity among the Ministry''srge archives of failed investigations.

    Barty Crouch Sr., on the other hand, managed to emerge rtively unscathed from this fiasco through a unexpected twist of fate.

    He was very lucky.

    Despite his vital role in in the wrongful imprisonment of Sirius ck in Azkaban, as well as the subsequent barrage of scathing criticism leveled against him, he did not bear the brunt of the me for this sudden and unexpected incident. Moreover, the "idental" news that covertly leaked out of the Ministry worked decidedly in his favor, portraying him in a positive light. Barty''smanding performance during the highly publicized Wizengamot trial had effectively mitigated any significant damage to his reputation. He managed to retain his position as the Head of the International Magical Cooperation Department, and this was one of the reasons why Fudge was furious.

    Harry, Ron and Hermione had been engaging in spection during this period, attempting to discern the identity of the person responsible for Peter''s gruesome murder. Their primary suspect was Lucius Malfoy, and as for the reason, they didn''t need any specific evidence. They simply disliked Malfoys. Of course, their eternally sour-faced Potions master was another prime suspect in their minds; how else could one exin Snape''s uncharacteristically ''pleasant'' demeanor following Peter''s gruesome death?

    Harry himself also felt a sense of regret that he did not personally have the opportunity to kill Peter Pettigrew.

    Professor Lupin had not returned to Hogwarts since that night. There were already rumors circting that he could no longer hold his position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

    This wasn''t too surprising news. In recent years, no professor had stayed in that position for more than a year. However, it was surprising that Professor Lupin had onlysted half a year before encountering misfortune.

    The young wizards thought that Professor Watson would step in and take over Professor Lupin''s vacated position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. After all, he hadpetently substituted for Lupin during the previous term, and had securely held that position for half a year prior to Lupin''s arrival.

    However, this was merely idle spection among the students. Not long after Fenrir Greyback and his pack of werewolves were eradicated, Professor Watson had abruptly departed from Hogwarts, and had yet to return to the castle.

    Professor Dumbledore had indeed returned to Hogwarts after those events, but his presence was equally fleeting, as he too had subsequently disappeared from the castle once more, much to the confusion of students and staff.

    Though the day-to-day operations and activities at Hogwarts continued to proceed as normal during their respective absences, with sses and extracurricr activities unaffected, Harry till felt something was off. He had the feeling that with just those two gone from Hogwarts, the school seemed half-empty.

    Yet Harry kept these unsettling thoughts to himself, unwilling to share his private considerations even with his closest friends; Ron and Hermione. After the Dementor incident the previous term, he had already endured a prolonged period of being branded as a ''coward'' by his peers, an experience he had no desire to relive again.

    "Yes, it is rather puzzling, isn''t it?" Harry sighed, his voice tinged with a tone of little interest.

    "I wonder if it was Malfoy''s father who arranged that traitor''s murder. I miss the taste of Polyjuice Potion, Hermione. We should have kept a reserve supply on hand for such emergencies."

    Their previous adventures involving the use of Polyjuice Potion had caused a rather unpleasant experience for Hermione. She nced up from her book, shooting Harry an irritated nce.She was about to say something when two figures entering her view made the words die in her mouth, her expression turning perplexed.

    "Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall?"

    Hermione furrowed her brow and stared at the ck robes fluttering like bats and the brisk figure, wondering,

    "It seems like they''re heading to the Forbidden Forest?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0335 A Farewell in the Forbidden Forest

    0335 A Farewell in the Forbidden Forest

    The crimson sun was dipping below the horizon, casting a fiery glow over the ancient grounds of Hogwarts. In this ethereal light, two solitary figures could be seen striding purposefully towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, their robes flowing behind them.

    Their hurried pace and furrowed brows showed a sense of urgency, drawing bewildered looks from the young wizards who crossed their path.

    Why were Professors Snape and McGonagall striding so hurriedly towards the Forbidden Forest?

    Harry and Hermione exchanged nces filled with confusion and curiosity, their eyes following the professors''s retreating figures until they disappeared into the Forbidden Forest.

    "Harry!" Hermione eximed, leaping to her feet, her bushy hair tumbling about her shoulders. Almost simultaneously, Harry jolted upright, his emerald eyes light with understanding.

    "I''ve got it!"

    Without uttering a word, Harry immediately understood the meaning behind Hermione''s call. He was d he didn''t go back to the dormitory with Ron. Without the invisibility cloak, He knew his tracking skills were not enough to follow the two head of the houses.

    Swiftly, Harry took out the cloak from his bag, casting a cautious nce around them before draping it over himself and Hermione. With breaths held and hearts pounding, they set off in pursuit of Snape and McGonagall, their footsteps muffled by the soft grass beneath their feet.

    "I''d bet Ron will regret missing out on something important again!" Harry whispered, his voiceced with a hint of amusement.

    "That''s not necessarily true, Harry--" Hermione panted, struggling to keep pace while lugging her bulging bag. "You do realize what we''re doing, right? Following professors is against the rules; maybe Ron will be lucky enough to avoid detention this time."

    Despite her rebuke, Hermione''s actions betrayed no hesitation as she followed Harry''s lead, her curiosity overriding her sense of propriety.

    What could have happened that made Snape and McGonagall so urgent? If it was only Snape going to the Forbidden Forest, Harry''s spections would have been numerous. However, McGonagall was apanying him, which made many of Harry''s guesses unreliable.

    Several minutester, the figures of Snape and McGonagall became clearer to the young wizards trailing behind. Instinctively, they slowed their pace, afraid that the crunching of fallen leaves beneath their feet might alert their presence.

    To their surprise, the professors did not delve deeper into the heart of the Forbidden Forest. Instead, they turned towards the distant intersection where the ck Lake''s waters met the forest''s edge.

    It was only after twenty arduous minutes, when the mor of youthful voices from the Hogwarts grounds had faded entirely, that Snape and McGonagall unexpectedly turned onto a narrow but well-ttened path, disappearing into the lush embrace of the ancient woods.

    "I never knew there was a ce like this in the Forbidden Forest. Maybe even Fred and George haven''t been here!" Harry eximed in astonishment, his voice muffled by the Invisibility Cloak.

    Though the ground beneath their feet was carpeted with a thickyer of fallen leaves, the path itself appeared remarkably clean, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. The towering pine trees that nked the trail on either side were simrly tinged with fiery tones, their needles sparkling like jewels in the fading light. Behind them, the gentlepping of the ck Lake''s waters against the shore mingled with the ethereal chirping of forest birds and buzzing insects, enveloping Harry and Hermione in a world that seemed plucked straight from the pages of a fairy tale.

    "Shh¡ª keep it down, Harry, we''ll be heard!" Hermione warned perceptively. However, as her gaze settled upon the moss-coveredrge stones nestled amidst the lush bushes, she couldn''t stifle a gasp of realization. "This ce must be very ancient--"

    Following the trail of Hermione''s wide-eyed stare, Harry''s own gaze fell upon the ancient stones, and he immediately understood the weight behind her exmation.

    The standing stones scattered throughout the forest were not mere rocks, but grave markers ¨C their inscriptions barely legible after years of erosion from wind and rain, obscured by the green moss that clung to their weathered surfaces.

    As the gravity of their surroundings dawned upon her, Hermione''s face paled, a terrible notion leaping into her brilliant mind. The once-friendly atmosphere now seemed ominous, the fresh forest air carrying an icy chill that caused her lips to quiver with each trembling breath.

    "Whose could it be, Harry--" she murmured, her voice barely audible.

    Hermione turned her head to look at Harry and noticed that his face was also ashen, realizing that he had the same dreadful suspicion as her.

    "Could it ¨C could it be ¨C you see, Professors Snape and McGonagall, they''re the Heads of House...Harry, is it possible--"

    "Absolutely not!" Harry''s face was drained of color, but he replied resolutely despite not knowing the answer.

    The two professors leading the way maintained a solemn silence, their heads bowed as they navigated the path with efficient paces. After a few more minutes of tense anticipation, McGonagall''s sharp gaze stopped upon a spacious and breathtakingly beautiful circr clearing ahead, as meticulously tended as a cultivated garden.

    "I see them, Severus--" she eximed, her voice tinged with excitement. Without further pause, the pair quickened their pace, their robes swirling around their ankles as they hastened towards the gathering.

    Dumbledore, Bryan, Sirius, Remus¨C lying motionless upon a stretcher, his body covered in white bandages ¨C and Kreacher, the devoted house-elf of the ck family. And there, at the center of this somber assembly,y the eternally youthful face of Regulus ck, resting peacefully upon a strip of emerald velvet.

    "You two made it here quite quickly, Professors Snape and Professor McGonagall--" Bryan greeted them warmly, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow as he returned his wand to the folds of his sleeve, a faint smile ying upon his lips.

    "I''ve just finished preparing this ce."

    "We rushed over as soon as we received Albus''s message, Bryan--" Professor McGonagall replied, her voice strained as she clutched at her chest, her eyes glistening with unshed tears at the sight of Regulus ck''s pale face.

    While the garden Bryan had arranged appeared plucked from the pages of a fairytale, the atmosphere that enveloped them was far from fairy-tale like.

    Dumbledore stood with his hands folded solemnly before him, his expression solemn. Remus mirrored the Headmaster''s solemn appearance, though his face showed a hint of guilt ¨C This was not surprising, as he was the only one lying down to attend the funeral.

    Sirius sat beside his brother, his gaze fixed upon the face of the sibling with whom he had once shared an unbreakable bond growing up. His tense facial muscles twitched erratically, showing the internal struggle to restrain the tempest of emotions that raged within him. In stark contrast, Kreacher, the ever-loyal house-elf of the ck family, made no attempt to conceal his grief.

    Kreacher threw himself under the table carrying Regulus''s body, and from his barely audible sobbing, it was clear he had been crying for hours.

    Snape''s eyes roamed over the solemnly familiar face of Regulus ck. He had known Regulus since their time at Hogwarts; he was his senior after all. Of course, because of Sirius, he didn''t like this housemate several years below him. In fact, it was only after leaving Hogwarts to follow the Dark Lord that he and Regulus had more interactions.

    Later, Regulus disappeared without a trace, and Snape never paid much attention to it. After all, he had so many troubles at the time. But he never expected that many yearster, he would see Regulus ck again in this situation.

    Regulus''s pale facey devoid of the haughty arrogance that had so personified his youth, reced by an expression of profound peace and release from the burdens he had borne.

    Snape gazed intently at Regulus''s face, his expression nk. In a daze, that listless face seemed just like his own.

    <em>''Can I be freed?''</em>

    Snape asked himself in his heart, and the answer to this question stung him. He turned his gaze away and focused on the figure on the stretcher, wrapped in white bandages all over his body, with only his face exposed. At this moment, Remus was trying hard to raise his head and bid a solemn farewell to Regulus.

    Snape''s eyes were full of gloating and he almostughed out loud seeing Remus like this.

    "Well, since you''re here, Harry, and Hermione,e over too. Let''s send off this departing hero together--" Bryan''s voice cut through the heavy silence, rich with solemnity. With a sweep of his arm, he gestured towards a towering oak tree, its twisted branches reaching skyward like arms.

    Dumbledore''s piercing blue eyes twinkled knowingly in the direction Bryan had indicated. To the astonishment of the gathered mourners, two sheepish figures emerged from the tangled roots of the ancient tree.

    It was an unexpected and unanticipated sequence of events that unfolded before their very eyes.

    When Harry and Hermione inadvertently spotted Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson amidst the group of people, they realized they could no longer remain hidden. Since Harry received the Invisibility Cloak during his first year''s Christmas, these were the only two wizards who saw through its disguise.

    Professor McGonagall looked somewhat surprised as the two young wizards approaching hesitantly and asked, "How did you find us?"

    "It was quite obvious, Minerva," Snape sneered mockingly, his disdainful tone conveying a sense of mockery towards the naivety of her inquiry.

    The two students from her own house, had brazenly trailed the movements of their professors, ultimately exposing themselves before the Headmaster. Professor McGonagall''s face hardened noticeably as she prepared to sternly reprimand them. However, at that precise moment, Sirius turned his head and beckoned kindly to Harry and Hermione.

    "Come over here, Harry. And you must be Hermione, am I correct? Remus and Bryan have spoken highly of you,"

    Hermione felt the warmth of a crimson blush fill her cheeks, the overwhelming sensation of embarrassment washing over her, but she still followed Harry''s lead and approached Sirius.

    Harry stood beside Sirius, his emerald eyes studying the man before him intently. There was a lingering sadness that flickered within the depths of Sirius''s eyes but he looked much better than he did a month ago in the Forbidden Forest. Yet, in stark contrast to the haggard and wicked-looking appearance that had been depicted in the wanted posters, dressed in the attire of a prisoner, Sirius now appeared closer to the young and handsome wizard standing next to his parents in the photo album Hagrid gave him.

    Sirius ced his hand naturally on Harry''s shoulder, and Harry felt no difort, as though they had known each other for years. However, this was not the case - prior to this, they had only met once under misunderstandings.

    A gentle breeze came, and the golden sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting shifting patterns of light on the ground. Dumbledore sniffed, his voice deeper than Harry had ever heard it.

    "This is the best we can do, Sirius," Dumbledore said, his wordsced with an apologetic tone as he addressed the grieving man before him.

    "I understand your desire to give your brother a grand funeral, but as I exined to you, it is not appropriate to publicly announce Regulus''s position and his death in the fight against Voldemort. It involves some extremely important secrets that are not suitable for the public to know."

    "Your brother?" Harry blurted out instinctively, his brow furrowing in surprise as his gaze fell upon the face of the young wizard whose bodyy before them. However, as he studied the striking simrities between their appearances, a startling realization began to take root within his mind. He had initially presumed this person to be Sirius''s son or perhaps a nephew, given their undeniable physical resemnce and the man''s obvious age.

    But... he died fighting against Voldemort? Harry was shocked.

    In the eyes of the general public, Voldemort had allegedly met his demise twelve years ago, and even if that were not the case, he was no longer perceived as an imminent threat. However, Harry and his friends knew that the truth was vastly different.

    During his first year at Hogwarts, Voldemort had possessed one of their professors in an attempt to steal the Philosopher''s Stone and regain his powers. Could it be that Voldemort had made a simr move recently, and Sirius''s brother had sacrificed himself stopping him?

    "I have no objections, Dumbledore," Sirius replied, his voice heavy with sorrow yet tinged with resolve. "And I believe Regulus would be well-satisfied with this arrangement."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0336 The Funeral

    0336 The Funeral

    Kreacher''s wailing, which had previously been a mournful apaniment to the solemn proceedings, suddenly escted to a shrill and piercing climax, and it was at this moment that Harry and Hermione finally took notice of a peculiar lump concealed beneath the table.

    "Dobby, how could you...oh, you''re not!" Harry eximed inadvertently, his mind momentarily confusing the identity of the strange house-elf before him with that of the familiar house-elf, Dobby. However, he swiftly realized this house-elf was not Dobby, though he could not discern the subtle facial differences between them. At least, he could tell this house-elf appeared much older.

    "This is Kreacher, the loyal servant of the ck family," Sirius exined to Harry.

    Regardless of the circumstances, as thest remaining legitimate heir of the ancient and noble House of ck, Sirius''s approval held immense significance for Kreacher. Upon hearing the affirmation of his master''s words, Kreacher''s wails intensified, and he began pounding the floor nonstop.

    Hermione, who saw Kreacher''s tearful appearance, felt a sense of pity and seemed to have something to say after hearing the word "servant."

    "I think you stillck a proper understanding of the situation, Harry," Sirius said, his arm encircling Harry''s shoulder and smiled sadly.

    "Regulus ck was my younger brother. He... He made some regrettable choices in the past, but after realizing his mistakes, he decided to atone for his wrongdoings. And, ultimately, he sacrificed his life in pursuit of that noble cause. This did not happen recently - he has been gone for many years."

    Harry nodded, gaining a basic understanding bybining Sirius''s words with Dumbledore''s previous statements.

    "Before, I misunderstood, thinking he had always been a staunch follower of Voldemort. After I escaped from Azkaban and with Bryan''s help, I learned the truth about his death. Although it was toote, I still wanted to give Regulus a decent funeral."

    It was Professor Watson again.

    Hermione and Harry couldn''t help but steal nces at the somber figure of Professor Watson, recalling everything they knew about him since they met.

    He was an extraordinarily remarkable wizard, seemingly connected to every significant event while possessing the ability to ovee any obstacle.

    The funeral proceedingsmenced, each attendee forming a solemn circle around the unsung hero whose valiant deeds had been cloaked in obscurity for far too long.

    Everyone''s faces were solemn, starting with Dumbledore, One by one, each individual present expressed their deep admiration for the courage that Regulus ck had¨C to confront his own wrongdoings and resist Voldemort when he was at the height of his power. Those who had known Regulus ck also recalled some memories, even Snape, who regarded Sirius as his mortal enemy, dryly said a few words.

    Bryan waved his wand, and bright white mes burst out from Regulus''s body and the table around it. The mes grew higher and higher, obscuring the body. The white smoke rose into the air, and in a trance, it seemed that everyone saw a dashing young man with a rebellious smile standing in mid-air, waving to them.

    When the rites had concluded, the sunset had long since lost its vibrant hues, leaving only a mncholic crimson afterglow that stubbornly clung to the horizon, as though reluctant to bid the day farewell.

    Snape departed immediately, his difort with the proceedings evident in his haste to distance himself from the situation.

    "Potter, Granger, due to your brazen actions of tracking the professors," Professor McGonagall''s voice cut through the stillness like a de of ice, her tone devoid of warmth as they emerged from the Forbidden Forest and stood upon the banks of the shimmering ck Lake. "Upon our return to the castle, you will need to report to Filch and obey to his instructions without dy!"

    Professor McGonagall had ever been a paragon of fairness and impartiality, and Harry and Hermione had harbored an inkling that such a consequence might befall them.

    Professor McGonagall was always fair and impartial, and Harry and Hermione had anticipated this possibility, Nevertheless, Harry could not resist the pang of difort that arose at the prospect of being deducted points and assigned detention, particrly in the presence of so many people, including the Headmaster himself. Hermione, on the other hand, felt so ashamed that she wanted to cover her face and jump into the ck Lake a few steps away.

    "I personally think this punishment is quite appropriate¨C"

    Dumbledore said with a hint of humor, his silver beard fluttering in the wind. He had already noticed Harry secretly observing his expression and said this witty remark.

    Everyoneughed, even Sirius, who had a heavy expression, twitched his lips.

    "I don''t think it''s a big deal," Sirius said, patting the embarrassed Harry on the back.

    "When I have time, I''ll share some of the interesting things we did with James''s invisibility cloak!"

    "Please don''t make me regret my decision, Sirius," Dumbledore said helplessly. "You must understand a professor''s responsibilities extend far beyond imparting knowledge. Many times, you need to set a good example and guide the children in the right direction."

    "Professor?!" Harry''s mind froze for several seconds before he understood what Dumbledore and Sirius were talking about. He first showed an incredulous expression, but then, with a look of surprise, he looked at Sirius, who was smiling at him.

    "Just as you guessed, Harry," Sirius nodded in affirmation.

    "Some people," Bryan, already aware of this, shook his head in amusement, "Simplyck the ability to learn from the mistakes of their predecessors."

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    Those who have studied at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for a few years know that in this school, if more than one person is aware of something, it will spread throughout the entire school at varying speeds, depending on how sensational the matter is.

    The news that Sirius ck would be recing Professor Lupin as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the next few months had reached Harry and Hermione. Within an hour and a half until the start of the evening feast, over seventy percent of the young wizards had heard about it. The remaining thirty percent were mostly fifth and seventh-year students, who were about to face the two most important exams of their lives and were desperately trying to make the most of their study time!

    Just half a month ago, Sirius ck was still a notorious fugitive, the first wizard ever to sessfully escape from Azkaban.

    The previous school year had seen so many Dementors stationed at Hogsmeade and the school gates to guard against him. But in just half a month''s time, the roles of criminal and hero had been swapped. Peter, who had once received the Order of Merlin, First ss, became a criminal, while Sirius ck, who had spent twelve years in Azkaban, became a daring hero. And now, he had even be their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

    "Damn, what in the zes did I miss!"

    At the Gryffindor table, Ron threw his head back in a dramatic gesture and let out an agonized groan, filled with regret.

    On the night of the battle with the werewolf, He missed the miraculous time travel due to his severe injuries. And now, in the short time it took him to return to the dormitory to fetch the Firebolt, he had missed yet another momentous event.

    The other Gryffindor students were unaware of what Ron was upset about; their attention was focused on the handsome middle-aged wizard with a hint of mncholy in his eyes, who was conversing with Professor McGonagall at the staff table.

    "At Christmas, my grandmother was telling me that if I encountered Sirius, I should go and fight him with all my might, even at the cost of my own life, I must not bring disgrace upon my parents ---"

    Neville''s round face flushed red, and his voice, though lowered, could not conceal his excitement.

    "I really want to hear what she''ll say when she learns about this!"

    "You cannot duel a professor, Neville!"

    Ever since learning the news, Harry''s soared as if all the students at the school had cast a Cheering Charm on him!

    This was truly unbelievable. Sirius ck, his godfather, had be a professor at the school. Harry wished he could pry open Dumbledore''s head to see how he hade up with this idea.

    Before this, Harry thought Professor Watson would step up!

    This way, Snape wouldn''t be able to act as he pleased, right?

    Unless he wanted to see the Slytherin bunch of slimy gits receive the same treatment in Defense Against the Dark Arts that the Gryffindor students received in Potions!

    Although Harry hadn''t truly known Sirius before today, he was certain that Sirius would look out for the Gryffindor students.

    Shock, bewilderment, anger, and hatred!

    Snape had hurriedly left after attending the funeral of Sirius''s brother, Regulus ck. He was still unaware that Sirius had be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. But from Snape''s expression when he saw Sirius enter the Great Hall and take a seat at the staff table, it was evident how much animosity existed between them!

    "What do you say--"

    Seamus, excited like Neville, interrupted,

    "He might tell us how he escaped from Azkaban. That would be so cool! If we could learn that trick, we''d never have to be afraid again. Of course, I''m not nning on going to Azkaban."

    The conversation then shifted to discussing how Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, though this had been a hot topic for nearly a year.

    "Maybe Professor ck, like Professor Watson, has an exceptionally powerful Patronus. He used that spell to drive away all the Dementors!"

    Lavender eximed in surprise.

    "But he''d need to get himself a wand first--"

    The previously empty tables were nowden with delicious-smelling food. Hermione finally closed the book Professor Watson had given her and, upon hearing her roommate''s unrealistic spection, said impatiently,

    "And, I don''t think there is any point in discussing this matter---"

    The surrounding students, including Harry and Ron, stared at Hermione in astonishment, as if she had said something unthinkable. Hermione noticed she had be the focus of everyone''s attention. She took a deep breath, pursed her lips, rolled her eyes, and shook her head, saying,

    "Think about it. No matter how Sirius escaped from Azkaban, the Ministry of Magic wouldn''t have released him unless they figured out what happened. They must have taken appropriate precautions, right? That loophole couldn''t possibly still exist, unless the Ministry wants to see Azkaban unable to hold anyone ever again!"

    Amid the bewildered gazes of students at the other three House tables, a sigh erupted from the middle of the Gryffindor table.

    "And I don''t understand why you''re so excited, Harry--"

    Hermione nced sideways at Harry, who seemed to be nning a future ''study trip'' to Azkaban, and said helplessly.

    "Have you gone mad, Hermione? That''s Sirius ck, Harry''s godfather!"

    Ron eximed in shock.

    "I''ll bet that whatever way Snape, that wanker treats Harry, he''ll treat Malfoy the same. We''ve been waiting all these years for the appearance of a ''hero'' like this. Even Professor Watson wouldn''t help us like that!"

    Harry nodded vigorously.

    "But don''t forget--"

    Hermione nced at Sirius at the staff table.

    "He''s the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and we all know that for some reason, the professors of this subject are particrly prone to misfortunes!"

    The smile froze on Harry''s face, and now he was the one feeling regretful.

    "Damn, I forgot about that!"

    Harry pped his forehead and said,

    "Sirius was wrongfully imprisoned by the Ministry for so many years. He must not be aware of the situation. What do you think, should I go and warn him?"

    "Don''t worry, mate!" Ron frowned and said, "We all know that being the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor isn''t a walk in the park, but there have been exceptions, haven''t there?"

    "You mean like Professor Watson?" Harry''s eyes lit up.

    "Exactly!"

    Ron said thoughtfully, ncing at Professor Watson who was elegantly cutting hismb chops.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0337 New Professor, New Course?

    0337 New Professor, New Course?

    "Damn, I forgot about that!"

    Harry pped his forehead and said,

    "Sirius was wrongfully imprisoned by the Ministry for so many years. He must not be aware of the situation. What do you think, should I go and warn him?"

    "Don''t worry, mate!"

    Ron frowned and said,

    "We all know that being the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor isn''t a walk in the park, but there have been exceptions, haven''t there?"

    "You mean like Professor Watson?" Harry''s eyes lit up.

    "Exactly!"

    Ron said thoughtfully, ncing at Professor Watson who was elegantly cutting hismb chops.

    "If it weren''t for Sirius, we might never have figured out the truth about scabbers--"

    Thinking about Peter, who had been lurking around them all this time, Ron''s face turned pale, and he shivered,

    "We definitely can''t just sit back and watch Sirius follow in Professor Lupin''s footsteps, Harry. If I were you, I would go ask Professor Watson how he managed to avoid those misfortunes!"

    As he was enjoying his dinner, Bryan suddenly felt several pairs of eager eyes fixed on him. He nonchntly raised his head and saw Harry and his friends staring at him intently. He raised an eyebrow, wondering what these particrly troublesome kids were fixated on him for this time. But then, he shook his head, not bothering to guess.

    At the staff table, most of the professors weed Sirius ck''s sudden appearance in their ranks, but there were exceptions, of course.

    Professor McGonagall had been the Head of Gryffindor House when Sirius was a student at this school. No one knew better than her how much trouble Sirius''s little group had caused back then. She was happy that Sirius had not betrayed the Potters, but the thought of him bing a professor teaching the young wizards made her heart sink.

    As for Snape, nothing more needs to be said.

    Their camaraderie as ''teammates'' in battling Greyback and his werewolf pack paled inparison to the grievances they had held against each other in the past.

    While Sirius had indeed not betrayed Lily, Snape had not forgotten that it was Sirius''s foolish suggestion that led to Lily''s death. And the eloquent Sirius had also learned from conversations about how Severus had treated James and Lily''s son over the years.

    To be honest, due to these new and old grievances, if they were in a different situation, the two of them might have already started fighting. Even here, whenever their eyes met unintentionally, they could sense the raw hostility in each other''s gaze!

    <strong>Ding ding ding!</strong>

    Just as Professor McGonagall finished lecturing Sirius, Dumbledore timely tapped his ss with a silver soup spoon. As the mor in the Great Hall gradually subsided, Dumbledore responded to the hundreds of shining eyes with a twinkling smile.

    "Please allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor¡ª"

    Dumbledore winked mischievously and said cheerfully,

    "But I suppose you are already quite familiar with him, aren''t you?"

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    The three young wizards from Slytherin house who were previously harmed in a series of incidents had healed and been discharged from the Hospital. Simultaneously, the beloved Headmaster Dumbledore and the recently renowned Professor Watson had also returned to their respective posts. Perhaps most remarkably, Sirius ck, the enigmatic figure whose name had been a subject of intense scrutiny and spection for nearly a year, had astonishingly been appointed as the new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

    With such significant changes unfolding in a single, fateful night, the youthful students found themselves gripped by an electrifying sense of anticipation and excitement that had not coursed through their veins in ages.

    Even after indulging in the sumptuous feastid before them in the Great Hall, their stomachs sated to the brim with mouthwatering delights, the eager pupils lingered, stubbornly unwilling to leave. Their gazes were upon the newly appointed Professor ck, whose infectious smile had not faded throughout the evening as he engaged in animated conversation with his colleagues at the staff table.

    The murmurs and whispers among the students swelled into a veritable buildup of buzzing discussions, specting excitedly about the uing Defense Against the Dark Arts sses under Professor ck.

    Indeed, there were many aspects of this topic to discuss.

    Would Professor ck teach them wondrous magic arts he used to escape from Azkaban? How would Professor ck''s teaching skillspare to those of the Professors Lupin and Watson, who had previously held the post?

    And, as Harry Potter''s beloved godfather, would the newly minted professor turn a willfully blind eye to the unfair treatment that his godson had endured in the Potions ssroom, or would he take decisive action to rectify the injustice?

    What would he do then?

    Drag Professor Snape out of the dungeons and give him a good beating?

    The prospect of Professor ck dragging Professor Snape from the damp dungeons and giving a well-deserved thrashing was a tantalizing prospect that ignited the mes of heated debate among the young wizards especially the Gryffindors.

    Ron had great confidence in Sirius; he swore that Sirius would definitely shove that Bat''s head into the ck Lake to give him a good scrub, even if he had witnessed firsthand how Snape had torn apart those werewolves in the Forbidden Forest.

    Throughout the loud evening, Harry''s gaze remained resolutely fixed upon the trio of Dumbledore, Professor Watson, and his godfather Sirius, at the staff table. An unprecedented sense of security and safety filled his heart, imbuing him with an extraordinary source of happiness and contentment. Although he knew that the prospect of Siriuspelling Snape to bathe in the ck Lake was unlikely to materialize, Ron''s vivid and colorful description still amused him greatly.

    Yet, amidst the jolly atmosphere, there were new colleagues whose interactions demanded rapt attention.

    While Sirius mingled freely at the staff table, his bubbly demeanor a stark contrast to the solemnity of his surroundings, Bryan was engaged in a discussion of great importance with Dumbledore.

    "First and second-year students are still in the developmental stages ofying the foundations of their magical education, so I do not n to involve them in this attempt just yet," Bryan exined, his voice resonating with conviction.

    "Beginning with the third and fourth-year students seems more appropriate. The older students will need to focus on preparing for their OWL and NEWT examinations, which will take up a lot of their energy. However, once this initiative bes an established routine, the older and more talented wizards can join my advanced sses based on their personal wishes."

    As Bryan outlined his meticulously conceived n. But strangely, Dumbledore, who was listening attentively, had a serious expression.

    "Do you think this is necessary, Bryan?" Dumbledore asked, his tone tinged with a hint of hesitation. "I am more inclined towards organizing it in the form of extracurricr clubs, simr to Minerva''s Transfiguration Club or Severus''s Potions Club. This approach has a longstanding tradition at Hogwarts and would undoubtedly be more readily epted both by students and the faculty."

    A pensive silence enveloped Bryan as he cast his gaze downwards, surveying the jubnt groups of students upying the Great Hall, their youthful faces aglow with unrestrainedughter and happiness. After a momentary pause, he resumed his patient efforts to persuade the Headmaster, his tone measured yet unyielding.

    "This is a necessity, Headmaster," he affirmed with quiet conviction. "Hogwarts must impart tangible skills to its students and truly equip them with the means to protect themselves. While it is undeniable that the evolution of magic has increasingly oriented its applications towards easing our daily life as times change, but certain ancient arts are far from being obsolete or abandoned."

    Snape had already taken his leave of the Great Hall halfway through the feast, and after securing Dumbledore''s acquiescence to his proposed curriculum, Bryan''s gaze shed towards the jolly Sirius, still immersed in pleasant atmosphere, before he, too, departed the staff table with a quiet, unobtrusive grace.

    As he traversed the threshold of the Great Hall, the noisy voices swiftly dissipated, reced by an enveloping silence that nketed the world around him. Bryan did not hasten his steps towards his office; instead, he ascended the rotating staircase, climbing several floors before embarking upon an aimless stroll through the ancient, hushed corridors that permeated the castle with an aura of mystery.

    The flickering mes of the torches lining the stone walls blended seamlessly with the mellow caress of the moonlight, casting a warm, inviting glow upon the hallways. Afortable evening breeze floated through the closely huddled buildings of Hogwarts, carrying with it the faint scent of pine from the Forbidden Forest.

    At the forest''s edge, Hagrid, having returned to his humble abode earlier to tend to his faithful hound, Fang, had lit the candles within his modest wooden cabin.

    Hogwarts had regained its customary tranquility and serenity.

    Perhaps due to his deep appreciation for the homely atmosphere that permeated Hogwarts, Bryan found himself savoring this hard-earned breather of ease after the relentless onught of mundane affairs that had gued him ofte.

    He had been contemting the matter he had discussed with Dumbledore in the Great Hall for some time now. It was precisely Draco''s request when Bryan visited him in the hospital that prompted the previously hesitant Bryan to further advance his n.

    The wizarding world had enjoyed an extended period of peace, and most wizards born and raised within its embrace were proficient solely in the magical arts rting to their chosen work, abandoning thebative spells and ancient magical practices as if they were mere tattered rags to be discarded.

    During his recent interactions with the Ministry of Magic, Bryan had discerned with crystalline rity that, apart from wielding the moral high ground, the Ministry ¨C which apparently governed the entirety of wizardkind and employed hundreds of dedicated individuals ¨C possessed a distressingly limited capacity to intervene in conflicts.

    One need to only consider the stark reality: within the Ministry''s ranks, the sole armed force capable of responding to threats consisted of the measly dozen or so Aurors under the leadership of Rufus Scrimgeour in the prestigious yet small Auror Office. ording to the ancient ssifications that stratified the abilities of wizardkind, even these hyped Aurors were merely ordinary formal wizards, with only two or three among their ranks managing to attain the threshold of court wizards.

    With such a feeble and grossly understaffed military power entrusted with maintaining peace in the wizarding world, Bryan could only conclude that the British wizardingmunity had thus far avoided descending into chaos so far solely because of Dumbledore¨C an old man who, by all ounts, had one foot in the grave.

    However, the unpredictable winds of fortune would not always favor the wizards inhabiting thisnd; inevitably, they would encounter problems they did not wish to confront yet could not evade.

    Not only did Dumbledore take a cautious stance on training the young wizards inbat spells and skills, but even Bryan, who had been promoting this within the Ministry and Hogwarts, felt hesitant.

    Indeed, on its surface, instructing the youthful wizards in the ways ofbat would undoubtedly enhance their abilities for self-protection. However, re-equipping them with the very methods of killing and waging war also carried the inescapable implication of propelling them inevitably towards those same grim ends.

    These were mere children, underage wizards who should have been shielded from the harshness of the world, protected in the warm embrace of security and allowed to blossom into their full potential. Yet the sobering reality was that the wizarding worldcked the necessary might to ensure their protection in the face of intense conflicts, leaving them with the cruel choice to either strengthen themselves or remain appallingly vulnerable.

    "Good evening, Professor Watson¡ª"

    Bryan drifted through the hushed corridors wandering past one curved window after another, his mind consumed by these weighty ponderings when suddenly, a youthful yet strangely ethereal and carefree voice greeted him.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0338 Change of Plans

    0338 Change of ns

    "Good evening, Professor Watson¡ª"

    Bryan drifted through the hushed corridors wandering past one curved window after another, his mind consumed by these weighty ponderings. Suddenly, a youthful yet strangely ethereal and carefree voice greeted him.

    "Good evening, Miss Lovegood¡ª"

    Bryan responded reflexively, his tone distant and absentminded as he remained immersed in the currents of his contemtion, continuing his unhurried stride forward.

    However, after a few more steps, Bryan''s footsteps halted abruptly as realization dawned upon him. Turning his head, he fixed his gaze upon the young witch by the window, her wand tucked whimsically behind her ear as she stared intently towards the night sky, an expression of peculiar serenity gracing her delicate features.

    <strong>Interesting¡ª</strong>

    For a wizard like Bryan, the act of concealing his presence and obscuring his tracks had be almost instinctual. As he had passed behind this young witch mere moments ago, he had not emitted so much as a whisper of sound to disy his passage. Then how had this girl, who hadn''t even turned her head, noticed him?

    He did not intend to mask his interest in this peculiar development. Retracing his steps, Bryan approached the young witch and addressed her in a tone imbued with gentle inquisitiveness,

    "How did you detect my presence as I passed behind you, Miss Lovegood?"

    "The Wrackspurts told me, Professor Watson."

    It was not until Luna turned to face him that Bryan''s gaze was drawn to the whimsical ne around her neck, a strand formed from a varied array of butter beer bottle caps threaded together.

    "What?" Bryan frowned slightly.

    "Wrackspurts," Luna exined, her tone one of calm matter-of-factness. "They always flutter around my ears. When you approached just now, they all flew away. I guess they''re very afraid of you¡ª"

    Extending his magical senses outwards, Bryan meticulously scanned their surroundings, yet he could discern no presence of any magical creatures capable of concealing themselves so skillfully.

    Had it not been for the earnest, luminous gleam that shone within Luna''s silvery eyes, Bryan might have assumed this peculiar young witch was ying tricks on him with fanciful fabrications ¨C ''<em>Wrackspurts?''</em>

    Looking at the young witch before him, radiating ethereal quirkiness, Bryan''s brow twitched, and his eyes shone with intrigue,

    "Hmm, if I remember correctly, Miss Lovegood, you are a second-year student in Ravenw House, are you not?"

    After receiving her affirmative response, Bryan nodded thoughtfully.

    "You see, Miss Lovegood. I''m nning tounch a unique teaching program for third and fourth-year students soon. I believe you have an extraordinary talent. Would you be interested in participating?"

    After returning to the office, Bryan was still thinking about the Ravenw Witch named Luna Lovegood he had encountered outside.

    Weighing factors such as safety, innate magical aptitude, and the time constraints, Bryan had made the thoughtful decision to initially select the third and fourth-year students to participate in his new course. However, Luna''s appearance reminded him that there were also many gifted children among the students in other grades, and he should give them opportunities to grow as well.

    Bryan had previously taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, so aside from the first-years who had just entered Hogwarts, he was quite familiar with the children studying at the school.

    For two full hours, Bryan sat in his seat, his brow furrowed in contemtion as the steady, golden candlelight cast a warm, inviting glow upon his pensive face. At sporadic intervals, his quill would be across the parchmentid before him, adding yet another name upon its surface. By the time the full moon had ascended to its zenith in the velvety expanse of the night sky, the parchment was filled with the list of names.

    Yet, Bryan''sbors were far fromplete. His new course also required teaching materials, and Bryan did not intend to use any existing magic books as textbooks. He decided topile a new textbook himself, along with a corresponding teaching n. That way, if he ever left Hogwarts, this course could still continue.

    <strong>Knock, knock, knock--</strong>

    Bryan, deep in his thoughts, was startled by the sudden knocking at the door. He looked up, sensed who the visitors were through the door panel, and smiled wryly.

    "Come in, you three--"

    There were quite a few young wizards daring enough to wander the castle outside designated hours, but not many had the courage to knock on his office door. As expected, it was the Gryffindor trio.

    Knocking upon Professor Watson''s office door in the dead of night was an act that carried no small psychological burden for Harry and his twopanions. Nevertheless, upon crossing the threshold, their unease swiftly dissipated, reced by an overwhelming sense of bewilderment. Their gazes were immediately drawn to the wall to the right of the door, shrouded by an immense, inky ck curtain, rendering them momentarily at a loss of words.

    "Wondering where those monitoring images went?"

    Bryan stuffed the parchment in front of him into a drawer, stood up and stretched his stiff limbs under the stable and bright candlelight. Seeing the puzzled expressions on the three children''s faces, a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

    Professor Watson''s office was probably the most simply furnished among all the professors. However, anyone who entered this office would not forget to pay attention to the wall that was constantly covered by a huge ck curtain. Harry, Ron and Hermione knew this was Professor Watson''s method of monitoring the school, but for the vast majority of young wizards, it was a secret.

    With a curl of his wand, Bryan crossed the room towards the confines of the sofa, conjuring three steaming cups of warm milk to materialize upon the coffee table''s polished surface. "To avoid ruining your sleep for the rest of the night, I won''t offer you tea. Have some warm milk instead. I reckon you wouldn''t want to miss Professor ck''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss due to illness--"

    "Actually, we think it wouldn''t be bad if you taught it either," Harry interjected with a grin, his emerald eyes sparkling with mischief.

    At Professor Watson''s direction, the trio settled upon the plush cushions of the sofa. Yet, Ron found his attention drawn to the now innocent-seeming wall, his gaze darting furtively towards the previous location of the miraculous monitoring apparatus, seeming to want to say something but hesitated to speak.

    "Using that method to monitor the school is illegal; it was only a special response measure in emergency situations. After Sirius was proven innocent, Headmaster Dumbledore immediately reminded me to dismantle it in a timely manner. So, you probably won''t see it in this office anymore," Bryan exined, his lips curving into a reassuring smile

    "Oh--" Ron''s shoulders rose and fell in a nonchnt shrug, though his eyes betrayed a glimmer of disappointment. "Fred and George will be disappointed. They''ve always been very interested in this."

    Bryan was well aware of the Weasley twins''s fascination with the resourceful monitoring system. They had even been privately studying the enchantments involved in it. Although theycked the ability to produce the original for now, they had ingeniously researched and created simr alchemical devices, which Bryan had seen in Filch''s office.

    Before the formal topic began, there was always some casual conversation. Harry and his two friends asked Bryan about the Ministry of Magic''s progress in investigating the murder of Peter Pettigrew. Of course, Bryan could not honestly tell the three children that he had hired someone to kill Peter.

    "Um--" After a moment''s contemtion, Bryan spoke in a measured tone, "The Ministry has not yet achieved any satisfactory results, but from what I know, they suspect an insider was involved in this murder."

    "An insider?!" This revtion provoked a collective gasp of shock from the trio of children. However, Hermione''s keen intellect swiftly processed the implications of Bryan''s words.

    "The Daily Prophet reported that Peter Pettigrew died on the way to Azkaban. That means there must have been an insider providing information--" she reasoned, her brow furrowed in worry.

    "Oh!" Ron eximed, his features twisted in an expression of disgust. "Dad always tells me the Ministry can''t keep any news secret, like a sieve. But I really didn''t expect them to drop the ball on something like this too. Though, to be honest, he got what he deserved, didn''t he?"

    Keeping a criminal transfigured into a rat as a pet for years was definitely something Ron never wanted to reminisce about in his life.

    As for Harry, his sentiments regarding Peter''s fate were decidedly moreplex. This guy not only caused Harry to be an orphan but also condemned the innocent Sirius to years of undeserved suffering. In terms of his crimes, his fatepletely matched his actions. However, would Harry''s father also want to see Peter meet such a miserable end?

    As Harry wrestled with this ethical dilemma, another series of resounding knocks reverberated through the office door, shattering the contemtive silence.

    The sudden, intrusive sound set the three children on edge, their bodies tensing in anxiety.

    Aside from themselves, the only individuals likely to seek an audience with Professor Watson at such ate hour would be fellow members of the faculty. If it was Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore..., Harry and Hermione would find themselves in a precarious predicament, as they were currently still serving out the terms of their detention for the audacious act of following the professors against explicit instructions.

    "Don''t worry--" Bryan said with an amused look at the startled trio. "It''s Professor ck. I suppose he''s retained some bad habits from his student days and still likes roaming around in the castle in the middle of the night."

    "Sorry to disturb you sote, Bryan--" After a series of events, Sirius had be more polite than before. He knew it was rude to barge into someone''s office thiste at night. After entering, he immediately expressed his apology,

    "I was just going over those materials Remus left for me in the office, about the course progress for each year''s students and such. sses start tomorrow, so I had to go through all that tonight."

    "Well, if that''s the case--" Bryan''s gaze flickered towards the birdcage Sirius clutched in his grasp, one eyebrow arching quizzically. "Why didn''t you just quietly review the materials in your own office instead of bringing a birdcage here in the middle of the night?"

    Sirius was about to offer an exnation, but the words died upon his lips as his eyesnded upon the three ill-at-ease young wizards standing near the sofa. He froze for a moment, before the corners of his mouth curved upwards in a friendly smile.

    "Oh, you three--what are you doing in Bryan''s office? Don''t tell me..."

    Sirius''s gaze lingered upon his godson, a conspiratorial gleam shining in his pale gray eyes as he blinked owlishly. Reaching out, he gave Harry''s shoulder a gentle, reassuring pat. "You were on some adventure and got caught by Filch, who sent you here?"

    "You should have more faith in your godson''s night wandering skills, Sirius," Bryan interjected, his toneced with wry amusement.

    With the sofa now fully upied, Bryan was had to return to his seat behind the oak desk that served as the centerpiece of his office.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    <strong>Author''s Note:</strong>

    <strong>Hey everyone,</strong>

    <strong>Just a quick heads up ¨C I''m under the weather with a cough and headache, so I''ll need to skip tomorrow''s chapter update. I''ll get the next chapter to you the day after tomorrow. Thanks for sticking with me!</strong>

    <strong></strong>

    <strong>Take care. </strong>

 0339 The Curse on DADA

    0339 The Curse on DADA

    With the sofa now fully upied, Bryan had to return to his seat behind the oak desk that served as the centerpiece of his office.

    "About this owl--" Sirius wasted no time in stating the purpose behind histe-night visit, his words punctuated by the soft hooting emanating from the feathered upant of the cage. "Since you three are here, that makes things simple. It''s for you, Ron--"

    "For me?" Ron''s eyes widened in aical disy of disbelief as his gaze ping-ponged between the small, ruffled owl and Professor ck''s kind face.

    "Yes, I pre-ordered it a few days ago. Today, the post office delivered it straight to my office. It seems quite excited by the new environment, while I happen to need a quiet setting right now," Sirius exined, his smile deepening as he took in the younger Weasley''s flustered face.

    "Consider itpensation for what happened to you, Ron. Crookshanks told me how much you valued that rat Scabbers, but because of me, you lost him."

    Ron''s cheeks puffed out, his freckled features twisting in an expression of astonishment. Although he refrained from giving voice to his thoughts, the unconcealed delight that danced within his eyes was seen by all present.

    The Weasley family, burdened by financial constraints, possessed only a singlemunal owl for the whole family. None of Ron''s siblings, nor his younger sister Ginny, had a pet of their own.

    "Go on and ept it, Ron. Hedwig will be happy to have a new friend!" Harry chimed in with an encouraging grin.

    "Well--" Ron hesitated, the tips of his ears burning a vivid crimson as he found himself the center of attention. Ultimately, however, he offered an embarrassed nod of acquiescence under the warm, supportive gazes of Harry and Hermione.

    Now it fell to Harry to clear the true purpose that had drawn the courageous trio visit Bryan''s Office in the waning hours of the night.

    "Oh, actually..." He averted his gaze, suddenly finding it difficult to meet the inquisitive stares of Sirius and Professor Watson, his words emerging in a hesitant stammer. "We came here to ask you about something, Professor Watson--"

    "Hmm--" Bryan leaned back in his chair, making a nasal sound to indicate he was listening.

    "There''s been a rumor about the Defense Against the Dark Arts position-- that the professors appointed to teach this subject face a curse. The incidents with Quirrell, Lockhart, and Professor Lupin seem to prove this point. With only one exception."

    Harry''s gaze wavered, settling upon Professor Watson with a mixture of nervousness and curiosity, while Hermione regarded such baseless rumors with palpable disdain, her chin tilted downwards as she studiously examined the toes of her shoes.

    Dawning realization blossomed across Bryan''s face, while Sirius immediately froze after Harry stated his purpose, staring intently at Harry''s face that so resembled James''s. He pursed his lips, a glimmer of light shining in his pale gray eyes.

    The unnatural atmosphere made Harry feel suffocated. He awkwardly looked down in embarrassment but still persisted in asking the question, "We want to figure out how you managed to avoid this misfortune."

    "Harry--" Sirius spoke softly. "You don''t need to worry about that. I''ve considered it - I''m only temporarily helping Dumbledore for less than half a school year. Even if that rumor is true, I don''t believe it would be fatal--"

    In recent years, among the unsolved mysteries at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the rumor that the professor for the Defense Against the Dark Arts course suffers from a curse has been quite prevalent. Although Dumbledore always remained tight-lipped about it in public, people believed that there was indeed something unusual about this course.

    One remarkable side of this alleged curse was that regardless of the identity or caliber of the professor assigned to teach the subject, their tenure would invariably conclude in a gloomy, ominous departure, yet they always managed to persevere in this position until the end of the academic year. Of course, the tragic fate that befell upon Remus could not be considered a benchmark, as external forces beyond the supposed curse were at y.

    Outsiders and idle gossipers alike relentlessly spected about the nature of this curse, believing that the curse on the professors of this course had a time limit, However, Bryan, who had personally experienced this curse, had his own distinct perspective.

    In Bryan''s estimation, the curse was akin to a chronic poison that silently infiltrated the being of any who epted the appointment. It would not reveal its presence immediately, but rather, it would gradually and secretly alter the recipient''s fortunes, much like a sinister version of luck potion. The poison would umte invisibly, and in the shadows unseen, unfavorable events would quietly transpire until a critical juncture was reached, at which the curse would trigger in full explosion.

    Judging from the workings and potency of this curse, it was evident that Voldemort himself was indeed deserving of the title of "Master of the Dark Arts." At least during Bryan''s years mingling through the European wizarding world, he had never encountered a curse whose effects so closely mimicked the illusory luck and misfortune.

    That said, unless you possessed capabilities like Bryan''s, avoiding the misfortune formed by the curse was extremely difficult. However, to a certain degree, containing the harm caused by the curse was not impossible¨C being mindful of the duration you served as the professor for this course was one way.

    For someone like Sirius, whose intentions were merely to help Dumbledore for a brief span of two or three months, the potential consequences might not be entirely evadable, but at the very least, the extent of the damage could be contained within an eptable range.

    This logical justification was also the underlying reason why Bryan did not clearly oppose Sirius''s decision to ept Dumbledore''s offer of the professorship.

    If Dumbledore could find three or four ''scapegoats'' every year, this course would not have such a bad reputation.

    In any case, with Professor Watson''s rifying exnations and Sirius''s reassurances, Harry''s worries about his godfather''s well-being were substantially alleviated, no longer gripped by the fear that Sirius might suddenly drop dead one day.

    Over the following two days at Hogwarts, there were only two hottest topics within Hogwarts. The first centered around the true teaching level of Sirius in the Defense Against the Dark Arts ssroom. As the third-year Gryffindors had not yet experienced his teaching during those initial two days, Harry could only inquire about his godfather''s performance from others, fearing any unfavorable critiques about his godfather. However, ording to Fred and George, Sirius''s teaching methods were quite engaging and interesting, at the very least not inferior to the Professor Lupin''s.

    The second topic that consumed the Hogwarts rumor mill was the emergence of what appeared to be a vtile conflict erupting from within the ranks of Slytherin House itself. This altercation had transpired in the Slytherinmon room on the previous Monday evening, shortly after the evening meal, and was said to have escted to such an intense degree that it had to be intervened by the Head of Slytherin House before it subsided.

    However, given the notorious umunicativeness and tight-lipped nature of the Slytherins when it came to preserving the ''purity'' of their house''s traditions, the other three houses found themselves starved of any detailed ounts into the nature of this conflict.

    In the aftermath of the rming sh, Draco Malfoy and his faithful cronies could be observed swaggering about the campus grounds with an air of arrogant superiority, while Theodore Nott and ise Zabini, fellow Slytherin students in Malfoy''s year, consistently bore sullen expressions and visible bruises on their faces, telling everyone they were the losers in this mysterious intra-house conflict.

    <strong>-Wednesday-</strong>

    The weather on this particr morning was as splendid and vibrant as Harry''s bubbly mood during this period. As fragmented shafts of golden sunlight poured through the intricately carved window grilles, bathing the dormitory in a warm, inviting glow, Harry sprung from his four-poster bed with an energetic vigor. He swiftly donned his school uniform and strode to Ron''s bedside, vigorously patting the edge of the mattress in an effort to wake up his slumbering friend.

    "Get up, Ron, we can''t miss today''s ss!" Harry''s voice resonated with an unmistakable enthusiasm.

    "Mmm¡ª" Ron mumbled groggily, sitting upright and rubbing the sleepy haze from his eyes. Seeing Harry rush into the washroom like the wind to freshen up, he blinked in confusion but immediately realized the reason for Harry''s excitement.

    One by one, Neville, Seamus, and Dean climbed out of their beds, bewildered by themotion.

    "What''s going on?" Seamus asked his brow furrowed in puzzlement. "I''ve never seen Harry this excited about attending sses."

    "Sirius''s ss," Ron shrugged nonchntly. "He''s really looking forward to it¡ª"

    Harry was not the sole individual eagerly anticipating Professor ck''s opening ss. At least, while having breakfast in the Great Hall, Hermione overheard her two roommates, Lavender and Parvati, giggling and sneakily pointing toward Sirius at the staff table.

    Undeniably, Sirius ck was one of the more aesthetically appealing professors in terms of physical appearance. With his chiseled, handsome features and a subtle hint of mncholy often lingering in his eyes when he was silent¨C a consequence, perhaps, of his past persecution¨C he exuded an alluring aura of brooding intrigue that was quite lethal to underage witches who yearned for romance.

    In terms of teaching level, Sirius might not surpass the strong personal style of Professor Watson, but at least in terms of appearance, his supporters among the young wizards were almost on par with Bryan''s.

    As they filed into the Defense Against the Dark Arts ssroom, Sirius, dressed in a sky-blue wizard''s robe, havingpleted the necessary pre-ss preparations, leaned casually against the podium, patiently awaiting the arrival of the students.

    This was abined ss with Slytherin House, and within that house, Sirius''s poprity was clearly not as high as it was in Gryffindor. After the Gryffindor students had all taken their seats, the Slytherin eventually walked in, their expressions radiating an icy disdain. And just a mere second before the bell signaling the beginning of the ss period rang out, Draco Malfoy made his grand entrance, nked by his ever-presentckeys Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

    Harry immediately shot Malfoy an angry re, aware that the reason Malfoy arrived sote was not because he was held up by something but rather an attempt to undermine Sirius''s authority.

    When it came to hating the Slytherins, Sirius was no less passionate than Harry and his circle of friends. However, for Bryan''s sake, he did not want to stoop to the level of a ''Sniveling'' pest.

    "Let''s begin our ss now¡ª"

    After retrieving the attendance register and methodically calling out each name, Sirius smiled warmly and returned to his position at the podium.

    "I''ve familiarized myself with the current status and progress of this ss through Professor Lupin, and I must say, I am quite pleased with the progress you have all made thus far."

    At this juncture, Malfoy arrogantly tilted his head, giving Professor ck with a sidelong nceden with disdain, and let out an audible, mocking snort that reverberated throughout the ssroom, ensuring that every student present was made aware of his contempt.

    "If you dare cause any trouble, Malfoy," Harry whipped his head around, his face flushing crimson with rage as he red at him fiercely, "I''ll make sure the marks on Zabini and Nott''s faces appear on yours too¡ª"

    "I bet, Potter¡ª" Malfoy countered, his lips curling into a disdainful sneer, "you must be super touched, right? Having such an experienced jailbird for a godfather?"

    Before Harry could stand up and draw his wand, Sirius, who had appeared by his side at some unknown point, had already ced a hand on his shoulder, staring coldly at Malfoy.

    "Twenty points from Slytherin¡ªdo you need me to exin the reason for the deduction, Mr. Malfoy?" Sirius''s voice was low and measured, yet carried an undeniable undercurrent of authority.

    Directly challenging a professor''s dominance was not a confrontation that even a brash third-year student like Draco could muster, no matter the depth of his disdain for Sirius. Wilting under Professor ck''s ice-cold stare, Draco found himself devoid of the courage to retort.

    "This is the scene I''ve been dreaming of!" Ron whispered conspiratorially, a chuckle escaping his lips under Hermione''s disapproving gaze. "The fun is just beginning; I really wish Malfoy could act a bit more boldly!"

    Sirius returned to his position at the podium, his gaze sweeping across the assembled ss as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth once more.

    "ording to the curriculum, we should be delving deeper into our understanding of werewolves, but thanks to Professor Watson, we have a rare opportunity to learn how to effectively face the threat posed by the attack of another creature¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0340 The Incident

    0340 The Incident

    The ssroom was abuzz with anticipation as Professor ck strode purposefully towards an intriguing covered object, resembling a birdcage, stationed on a shelf adjacent to the front of the room. Many inquisitive students had noticed peculiar movements emanating from beneath the concealing cloth, striking against the cage, as soon as they entered the ssroom, yet curiously, not a single audible sound could be heard.

    Sirius nimbly lifted the shrouding fabric, unveiling the cage''s contents to the collective gaze of the assembled ss, his face adorned with a self-assured smile.

    "Can anyone tell me the name of this creature? Of course, it''s alright if you''re unsure. Strictly speaking, this creature is not part of the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum."

    Inside the cage was arge, vividly colored bird with a bizarre-looking beak. The bird seemed quite startled, huddled in a corner of the cage, staring in terror at the nearby Sirius and screeching desperately, though curiously, no one could hear its cries.

    "Oh, a Fwooper," Hermione said, her neck craning forward showing an interested expression.

    <strong>[[AUTHOR''S NOTE: Sorry for the mistake about the name of bird it has been changed to ''Fwooper bird'' as it is in canon and Fantastic Beasts movies. It''s NOT ''Augurey'' its "Fwooper", I have edited previous chapters with this bird''s now OG name Fwooper, Sorry for the mistake. ]]</strong>

    "Precisely, five points to Gryffindor!" Sirius acknowledged with an approving nod, his arms folding across his chest in a contemtive manner.

    "Tell us everything you know, Hermione, if you want to earn another five points for Gryffindor!"

    Hermione''s face immediately flushed red. She took a deep breath and stood up to speak.

    "These creaturesrgely inhabit the African continent. Wizards deeply admire them for their vibrant feathers, and Fwooper''s feathers have long been coveted for use in the crafting of exquisite, high-quality quills for extravagant feather pens. Simr to the cries of infant Mandrakes that induce unconsciousness, the Fwooper''s twittering songs have simr effect, capable of driving those who hear them to the brink of insanity.

    "Uric the Oddball, once tried to persuade the masses that the Fwooper''s cry was, in fact, beneficial to one''s well-being. To prove that, he subjected himself to its calls continuously for three months without any break. Upon the conclusion of this self-imposed experiment, he presented his findings before the Wizengamot, only to be met with resounding disbelief and incredulity. As when he arrived at the Assembly he wore nothing on his head except a small wig ¨C which, upon closer inspection, turned out to be a deceased badger!"

    Neville stared admiringly at Hermione''s back, while Ron muttered,

    "Since it''s not in the curriculum, where does she learn all this bizarre knowledge?"

    The Gryffindor students were once again stunned by Hermione''s vast knowledge, while most Slytherin students looked contemptuous. Pansy Parkinson mocked Hermione''s peculiar tone of voice, causing Draco who had recently reconciled with her tough hriously.

    "Do you find this amusing, hmm?!"

    Hermione pursed her lips tightly, her face flushing with embarrassment. Sirius strode over, looking as though he might grab Malfoy and Parkinson and toss them out of the ssroom.

    "unting your ignorance and shallowness to mask your jealousy, are you, Malfoy, Parkinson?" he challenged, his voice resonating with authority.

    "Is he stealing your thunder?"

    Dean Thomas chimed in, his gaze fixed admiringly upon Sirius as he teased Harry and Ron, who had already drawn their wands in a defensive posture.

    Atst, Draco realized that Sirius was likely not the kind of pushover that the former Professor Lupin had been. If he didn''t restrain himself, he might well face a month''s worth of detentions ¨C a prospect that only added to his humiliation. A ''criminal'' who had spent twelve years imprisoned in the confines of Azkaban, someone who had willingly descended into the ranks of the Gryffindor House, thereby disgracing the honor of their pure-blood family, was now berating him simply by virtue of a professorial title!

    "Ten points from each of you!" Sirius dered mercilessly, his gaze sweeping over Malfoy and Parkinson. "If you cannot maintain decorum in my ss, I will continue deducting points from Slytherin until Snivellus Snape can no longer discern a single ruby in the Slytherin hourss, and then give you all detentions!"

    <em>How incredibly cool!</em>

    Every young Gryffindor wizard thought this, gazing at the ashen-faced Slytherins on the other side of the ssroom, their mood soaring.

    "That''s the feeling!" Ron eximed, his fist clenching and swinging forcefully through the air. "I''ve been looking forward to a day like this since I entered Hogwarts!"

    "For once, I''m hoping Malfoy shows some backbone!" Harry added spitefully.

    Hermione red at them sternly. In her opinion, a qualified professor needed to maintain a certain degree of fairness and not tantly favor students from a particr House. Most professors did this well, with Professor McGonagall being an exemry model. But Hermione pursed her lips, the corners of her mouth curving ever so slightly.

    She had to admit, being favored felt rather nice.

    During past Potions sses, whenever Snape singled out Harry as an example, Malfoy would always mock Harry''s ipetence and weakness. But when the tables were turned on him, Malfoy realized it was not so easy to confront a strong-willed professor.

    Sirius gave a disdainful snort, then turned his attention back towards Hermione''s side of the ssroom. "You did exceptionally well, Hermione," hemended, his face graced with a warm smile. "Now, could you tell us where you learned all this?"

    "Mr. Newt Scamander''s, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, the revised second edition, contains a narrative detailing of his travels in Africa, which includes a mention of the Fwooper birds," Hermione promptly replied.

    "Additionally, Professor Binns also mentioned some stories about Uric the Oddball and the evil Merrick when he told us about medieval magical history!"

    "Oh, brilliant!" Sirius pped his hands in admiration.

    "Professor Binns''s History of Magic ss - I would never have guessed! I''d wager, Hermione, you''re one of the few students in this ssroom who can stay awake during Professor Binns''s lessons!"

    "Actually¡ª" Ron muttered once more, "she''s the only one!"

    Sirius nced amusedly at Ron and announced loudly, "Ten indisputable points to Gryffindor. Oh, Hermione, I really think you should teach this ss! So, I assume you know how to deal with this pretty little creature?"

    Sirius''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss had truly be a veritable paradise for the young Gryffindor wizards. Even Neville, often-cited as a shining example of failure by professors across various subjects, mustered the courage to answer a handful of questions.

    And in the end, Malfoy had to be carried out of Sirius''s ss. He had attempted to secretly cast a spell to remove Harry''s protective earmuffs while Harry was tending to the Fwooper, but Sirius, enraged by this swiftly petrified Malfoy, punishing him to stand immobilized for the majority of the lesson.

    "Just carry him out like that!" Sirius growled as the bell signaling the end of the period reverberated through the chamber. He fixed Crabbe and Goyle, who were trying to move the petrified Draco, with a stern gaze. "Take him to Snape and let us see what that greasy-hair has to say about causing trouble in my ss!"

    He then arched an inquisitive eyebrow towards Harry and the others before striding out of the ssroom.

    "Sirius is really too rash. This is merely his first week teaching this ss. Snape definitely won''t let this go unanswered," Hermione said worriedly, her brow furrowing with concern.

    "Harry, we need to find a way to prevent any conflict from erupting between him and Snape."

    "Are you insane, Hermione?" Ron eximed in disbelief. "Doesn''t Harry desperately yearn to witness Snape receiving a well-deserved thrashing from Sirius?"

    "Compared to Snape''s attitude towards Gryffindor students in Potions ss, Sirius has been quite mild!" Harry agreed unreservedly.

    "This is different, Harry!" Hermione insisted, her tone tinged with urgency.

    The Gryffindors still had Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs scheduled for the morning, and they dared not miss Professor McGonagall''s ss just to witness Malfoy''s misfortune.

    Hermione hastened her pace, voicing her worries, "Don''t you remember the turmoil the Hippogriff incident caused Hagrid? If Malfoy''s father catches wind of how Sirius treated Malfoy, he most probably won''t let this go."

    "But Lucius Malfoy can''t possibly pin anything on Sirius," Ron countered immediately. "The Ministry has dered Sirius innocent in the eyes of the entire wizarding world. Those officials won''t make fools of themselves over some paltry Galleons!"

    Hermione''s concerns did manage to instill a bit of worries within Harry, especially when he failed to catch sight of Malfoy at the Slytherin table during the luncheon hour, and neither Sirius nor Snape appeared at the staff table. Professor Watson was also conspicuously absent from his usual seat.

    Just then, amotion emanated from the entrance hall, drawing the rapt attention of the students, who hastened towards the source of the disturbance. To their astonishment, they discovered that Filch had tumbled down the stairs. Many students, failing to grasp the gravity of the situation, erupted into boisterousughter at theical spectacle of Filch''s undignified fall. However, Harry had a sudden premonition that something had happened.

    Filch''s face was as pale as on that dreadful night over a year ago when he had discovered Mrs. Norris had been petrified by the Basilisk.

    "They''re fighting!" Filch scrambled to his feet, his appearance disheveled, neglecting to tidy himself as he roared towards Dumbledore, who had already taken note of themotion unfolding in the entrance of the Great Hall.

    "Professor ck and Professor Snape!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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 0341 Confrontation

    0341 Confrontation

    In the Great Hall, an eerie silence descended like a heavy curtain after the shrill, desperate tones of Filch''s voice echoed through the chamber. The abrupt stillness was palpable, as if a powerful silencing charm had been cast over the hundreds of young witches and wizards seated at the long tables, their gazes transfixed upon the squib caretaker in a collective state of skeptical astonishment. even the professors at the staff table were gawking at him in disbelief.

    "I¡ªI thought you would have foreseen this, Headmaster¡ª" Filch stammered hesitantly, his ruddy cheeks flushed a crimson hue, the words spilling forth with a trembling uncertainty that showed his unease at being the sudden center of such rapt attention.

    Such an unprecedented scene in the Great Hall was a rare urrence indeed, akin to spotting a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest. As Filch''s thin voice wavered into silence, the spell was broken, the vast hall erupted with noise ten times louder than before. Young witches and wizards sprang to their feet in a flurry of motion, the sound of scraping chairs and overturned tables sounding like a wrecking crew methodically demolishing a crumbling structure.

    "I told you, Harry!" Hermione''s excited exmation was drowned out amidst the pandemonium as she shouted to him, her voice ringing with urgency. "Here we go!"

    "He actually did it¡ª" Ron''s dazed and shocked expression was quite amusing even among the stunned wizards around him as he opened his mouth and said nkly.

    Ron''s words served as a jarring reminder to Harry, who sprang upright in an instant, disregarding Hermione''s exasperated objections, was about to dash upstairs, but then¡ª

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    The resounding boom, akin to a bomb detonating, thundered through the Great Hall with cataclysmic force, causing everyone to freeze in their tracks as if encased in a full body-bind curse.

    "I hope you can all quietly remain in the Great Hall and continue enjoying your lunch. Of course, I don''t object if students who are already full return to theirmon rooms for a good rest before the pleasant afternoon sses begin. As for the trouble upstairs, I hope you can trust that I can handle it," Dumbledore''s resonant voice rang out, rising to his feet with an air ofmanding authority that was seldom witnessed by the student body. Though his words were not overtly harsh, his tone allowed no argument, a stark contrast to the usually amiable, grandfatherly demeanor he typically disyed.

    The young witches and wizards fell into a hushed, uneasy silence, keenly aware that they were bearing witness to a side of Dumbledore that was rarely seen in the school.

    "Thank you for your support¡ª" Dumbledore nodded his head graciously towards the students, the simple gesture conveying an unspoken reassurance that the escting situation was well in hand. He then turned his prating gaze towards Professor McGonagall, who looked a bit panicked, his expression calm as if the disturbance upstairs were merely a trivial matter of some unruly portraits engaging in a scuffle.

    "Could you please maintain order here, Minerva? I''m afraid I must go upstairs to investigate¡ª"

    "Oh¡ªupstairs, yes, Albus!" Professor McGonagall grasped Dumbledore''s sleeve with a trembling hand as he headed for the entrance hall, her eyes flickering with worry and concern. "You will be able to control the situation, won''t you, Albus?"

    "Ah, of course¡ª" Dumbledore gave a reassuring smile, "I still need toe back for my puddingter. It would be unforgivable to waste food prepared by the hardworking house-elves who sweat to fill our bellies."

    With a gentle tug, Dumbledore''s sleeve slipped from Professor McGonagall''s weakened grasp, and all eyes were on the aged but currently expressionless face of Dumbledore as he made his way towards the entrance hall. As he reached the threshold, Dumbledore turned and nced at Harry, his gaze like a bucket of cold water dousing Harry''s heated thoughts.

    Harry was certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that Dumbledore''s prating look was a silent warning, warning him not to make the situation moreplicated.

    At the insistent prompting of Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout, the young witches and wizards reluctantly returned to their seats, though the atmosphere in the Great Hall remained heavy and oppressive, as if weighed down by an invisible mantle of leaden dread.

    In all its history, the ancient castle of Hogwarts had never borne witness to two professors dueling within its walls.

    "Why won''t he let me go up there!" Harry had never been so annoyed with Dumbledore as at this moment. Sirius needed his support the most now, but Dumbledore wouldn''t let him go upstairs.

    "We all know Sirius and Professor Snape don''t get along. Their grievances go back a long way," Hermione''s calm, measured tones cut through Harry''s turbulent thoughts like a soothing balm, "Dumbledore knows very well that you going up there will only escte their conflict."

    Harry understood what Hermione said, of course. He knew Sirius and Snape fighting had everything to do with him, which was precisely why he couldn''t ignore it. His ssmates seemed to realize this too, as many eyes were fixed on him, whispering to those sitting nearby.

    This scrutiny was unbearable for Harry, as if these people were all using him of being a coward.

    "They''re on the fourth floor, by the hospital wing entrance, Headmaster!"

    As Dumbledore nimbly navigated a treacherous path, leaping lightly over a crumbling staircase that had begun to disintegrate before his very eyes, the renowned Adalbert Waffling enthusiastically directed him from within the confines of his ornate portrait frame. Waffling, famous for his influential work "Magical Theory," often flew into a rage when woken by Gryffindor students wandering the corridors in the dead of night.

    "Thank you, Mr. Waffling, I believe I can find them¡ª"

    Now, Dumbledore''s expression turned stern as he hurried past the cluster of enthusiastic portraits reporting the situation.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    As Dumbledore rounded the corner onto the fourth floor, an earth-shattering explosion thundered down the corridor from the opposite end, a billowing cloud of thick, choking smoke rolled towards him like an unstoppable avnche. But before the dusty fumes could even reach halfway down the hall, they were abruptly halted by a shimmering, translucent barrier, leaving the space behind it untouched and pristine.

    Bryan leaned nonchntly against the age-worn stone wall. This morning, needing to continue drafting his course outline and uing announcements, he had note to the Great Hall for lunch but had the house-elves in the kitchens deliver food to his office. Now, one hand casually flying a te piled high with the remnants of his lunch, the other loosely gripping a half-eaten sandwich he observed the unfolding confrontation with keen relish, unhurriedly taking bites between the bursts of frantic magicalbat.

    Beside the leisurely Bryan stood a terrified Draco Malfoy, an enraged Madam Pomfrey with her hair disheveled, and a few young wizards confined to the hospital wing for various ailments.

    Upon catching sight of Bryan, the imposing aura that seemed to emanate from Dumbledore''s towering frame like a tangible force visibly receded. The aged headmaster strode forward, positioning himself behind the group bearing witness to the duel.

    "Ah, you''ve finally arrived, Headmaster Dumbledore!" Madam Pomfrey''s voice trembled with barely suppressed fury. "You simply wouldn''t believe what happened. Those two were dueling right outside the hospital wing! Oh, if it weren''t for Bryan, you''d be searching the rubble for our bodies right now, Dumbledore!"

    "Oh, nice move!"

    From the smoke-choked depths of the corridor, Sirius''s gruff voice rang out, rapidly advancing as he sted a gaping hole through the remaining half of the wall with a powerful curse. A hail of rough stone shards exploded outwards like shrapnel from the point of impact.

    Snape, his pale features twisted into a sneer of contempt, neatly darted through a nearby doorway, flicking his wand in a blur of motion to unleash three streaks of blinding silver light thatnced through the dense clouds of dust and debris. The searing magical barrage grazed Sirius''s cheek, drawing a thin line of crimson before colliding against Bryan''s shield in a colorful burst of sizzling energy.

    Seeing that no one was hurt, Dumbledore''s face softened slightly as his gaze fell on Bryan. Before he could speak, Bryan seeming to sense his approach, reached out to pat the speechless Draco in a reassuring gesture and said nonchntly,

    "Our young Mr. Malfoy here tried to act cool in Sirius''s ss, resulting in him being punished and a trip to the hospital wing. Thed was rather resourceful, having Ms. Parkinson notify me first, who then notified Professor Snape, and Sirius came to check on Draco''s condition after his morning sses ended¡ª" Bryan shrugged, seemingly unfazed by the destructive magical battle unfolding mere paces away. "And then they started fighting."

    "Why didn''t you stop them, Bryan?" Dumbledore''s voice was stern.

    "Why stop it?" Bryan angled his head, giving the headmaster a careless smile "Conflict was inevitable, better sooner thanter. At least with me here, nothing too serious will happen."

    "Is that all you''ve got, Snivellus!"

    Sirius''s enraged roar resounded like a thunderp, paying no heed to the thin rivulet of blood tracing a crimson path down his stubble-lined jaw from the shallow gash on his cheek. With a wild snarl, he charged forward, wand raised in a shing arc as he unleashed a torrent of blinding ruby-red light thatnced towards the shadowy doorway where Snape had taken cover.

    "You haven''t improved much over the years, have you!"

    Snape''s obsidian eyes glittered with cruel anticipation, his wand flicking in an intricate series of movements as he prepared to counter Sirius''s furious assault. As the zing torrent of crackling energy bore down upon him, he swung his wand in a sweeping arc, the air shimmering and distorting around the tip as he scattered theing spell amidst a dazzling spray of sizzling emerald and silver sparks.

    With Sirius''s spell dispersed, Snape did not remain on the defensive. His face twisted into a vicious sneer as he flicked his wand again, this time spewing forth a billowing cloud of dense, oily ck smoke from its tip. The fumes swirled and merged into an ominous cloud that rapidly expanded to nket the floor, walls, and ceiling of the corridor in a shroud of imprable darkness.

    From the churning womb of this suffocating miasma, the scattered stones and rubble strewn about the hallway began to shift and undte with a sinister, unnatural life of their own. Like hideous buds unfurling from the soil, they elongated and contorted, taking on grotesque new shapes as dozens upon dozens of thick, brawny forms emerged - a twisting horde of venomous serpents as wide around as a grown man''s wrist.

    The writhing mass of scaly ck bodies slithered forth from the clinging tendrils of smoke, scales glistening like oil-slicked obsidian in the dim half-light. Their wedge-shaped heads weaved in a hypnotic dance, forked crimson tongues flicking as they tasted the air, hissing with a menacing hoarseness that set the teeth on edge. Within moments, the entire corridor was overrun by these dozens of ck serpents, hissing menacingly at Sirius with their blood-red forked tongues.

    "You have made some progress, you mangy mutt!" Snape sneered amidst the pythons. "I mean, at being mulish and arrogant!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0342 Stop!

    0342 Stop!

    The tense atmosphere was thick with apprehension as Sirius stood his ground, unflinchingly facing the menacing slithering of dozens of venomous snakes that converged upon him from all directions in the narrow corridor. His expression was one of utter disgust, his steely gaze unwavering as he retorted,

    "You think this can scare me?-- Your magic is as disgusting as you are, Snivellus!"

    "I hope you can still be this toughter, you mutt!"

    Snape''s obsidian eyes burned with an unsettling, fanatical gleam that seemed iprehensible to onlookers. With a sharp, decisive motion, he raised his wand and shed it downwards, wordlesslymanding the slithering horde. In an instant, dozens of the snakes began to elerate, rapidly closing in on Sirius from every angle. The scene was undoubtedly highly shocking ¨C Madam Pomfrey let out a shrill, piercing scream that reverberated through the corridor, while the few young wizards standing beside Bryan, including the pale and trembling Draco, turned a ghostly shade of white, their bodies quivering uncontrobly like sieves caught in a tempest.

    <strong>Whoosh--</strong>

    Suddenly, an intense and surging ze erupted from the tip of Sirius''s wand, the scorching purple mes shooting forth and bathing the confined space. Though not the infamous Fiendfyre, this was clearly an extremely powerful magical fire. The snakes under Snape''s control, now enveloped by the swirling inferno, let out agonizing hisses as the searing heat relentlessly assailed their scaly forms.

    However, the raging mes did notpletely halt the snakes''s advance. Under Snape''s relentless mentalmand, the snakes quickly adapted. Dozens of them entwined their bodies, rolling intopact, armored balls that swiftly rolled through the range covered by the magical fire. Although the outeryer of snakes had been charred and burned by the scorching mes, the inner core remained very much alive!

    <strong>Swish! Swish! Swish!</strong>

    Several of the snakes that had rushed through the mes immediately unfurled their bodies. Like coiled springs unleashed, they leaped from the ground, fangs bared in mid-air as they targeted Sirius''s face in a lethal strike!

    <em><strong>"Protego!"</strong></em>

    Seeing this, Sirius quickly took two steps back. He reluctantly removed the suppressing mes and raised his wand in front of him, summoning a shimmering magical barrier to protect himself.

    Snape, as an exceptionally skilled duelist himself, did not miss the appropriate moment to subdue his adversary. His gaze burned with intense determination as he flicked his wrist, and the shattered shards of ss from the broken hospital wing doors rose into the air one by one, glinting coldly. Amid piercing whistles, they shot directly towards the unprotected back of Sirius''s neck in a ruthless assault.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    Suddenly, a muffled, thunderous rumble shook the entire fourth floor. Rolling ngs of deafening thunder swept through the corridor, instantly reducing the ss shards controlled by Snape to countless particles of dust. The uncharred snakes, one by one, exploded into plumes of acrid, ck magical smoke. Simultaneously, the invisible magical shield before Sirius shattered with a crisp crack.

    Sirius and Snape instantly turned deathly pale at the same time, overwhelmed by an unbearable wave of dizziness that caused them to copse to the ground, retching violently.

    The instant the thunderous roar sounded, Draco felt his mind go utterly nk, as if an irresistible force had forcibly erased his consciousness in that moment.

    A few agonizing secondster, he finally regained his senses, but his heart was still gripped by a chilling sense of dread that left him breathless and lightheaded. Through his peripheral vision, Draco noticed that Madam Pomfrey and the few unlucky young wizards caught up in the chaos looked simrly stunned and disoriented ¨C only Dumbledore seemed remarkably calm andposed. The old man''s silver-white beard fluttered gently as if brushed by a gentle breeze, his eyes half-closed behind his half-moon spectacles.

    "A duel between old friends needs to be mindful of its surroundings and consequences."

    Bryan slowly lowered his right hand, which had been raised to strike the empty space before him with his wand, clicking his tongue in dissatisfaction.

    Sirius and Snape, who had staggered back to their feet, both cast angry, resentful nces at Bryan, especially Snape. He had been just one step away from achieving his "lifelong wish," but this rare "opportunity" was ruined by Bryan.

    "I think you both should exin your actions," Dumbledore emerged from behind Bryan, his calm voice carrying a distinct chill as he looked sternly at the two impulsive, middle-aged men, now ring at each other with renewed anger and animosity etched on their faces.

    This confrontation had indeed gone too far, spiraling out of control in the most uneptable manner.

    Although Dumbledore knew that if Bryan had not been present to control the vtile situation, Snape and Sirius would not have directly started dueling outside the hospital wing, their actions were still highly intolerable and a tant vition of Hogwarts''s rules.

    "You should ask your newly hired professor about this, Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape lifted his chin, his voice dripping with venom as he spoke. "He openly attacked an outstanding Slytherin student with a spell during ss. I suspect twelve years in that prison have not changed the evil nature hidden within his character."

    "Oh!-, evil nature, how interesting, Snivellus!" Sirius panted slightly, his exhaustion more evident than Snape''s, though this wasn''t particrly surprising. Perhaps their skill levels were not much different in their youth, but Sirius had been tormented by the soul-draining Dementors in the nightmarish confines of Azkaban for so many years, while Snape had honed his abilities at Hogwarts over that same time.

    "Do I need to remind you of the ''pranks'' you yed while serving under Voldemort?" Sirius continued, his tone mocking.

    The mere mention of the Dark Lord''s name still carried significant weight among ordinary people. Upon hearing it, Madam Pomfrey and the few young wizards visibly recoiled in horror, while Dumbledore''s voice took on a grave tone as he warned, "Severus has left that dark past behind, and I firmly believe his stance and beliefs will never waver again."

    "That''s your opinion, Headmaster Dumbledore," Sirius stared at Snape''s sullen expression and said coldly, an undercurrent of barely restrained contempt in his voice. "I don''t think he haspletely changed or left that evil behind!"

    "At least you need to exin," Dumbledore''s piercing gaze, filtered through his half-moon spectacles, fell upon Sirius with a stern intensity. "What Severus said earlier about you punishing a young wizard with magic during ss ¨C I''m sure Minerva showed you the professor''s guidelines, so you know such punishments are not allowed, correct?"

    "Then you should ask the Malfoy brat here what he did during ss,"

    Sirius nced at Draco with open disgust, "He tried to remove Harry''s earmuffs while I was teaching him how to deal with the Fwooper Birds. You should know the severe consequences of that reckless action. Speaking of which,"

    Sirius red at Snape, his tone stern and upromising, "I''ve heard from many sources how you''ve been treating Harry in Potions ss. I must warn you, Snivellus, if I hear of any more such incidents or mistreatment, I will personally settle the score with you."

    "How touching, the father-son bond," Snape sneered coldly, his lip curling in disdain. "I''m sure you''ve already noticed how much Potter resembles his arrogant, bigheaded father, haven''t you?"

    "Yes," Sirius said, a distinct note of pride evident in his voice as he acknowledged the simrities between Harry and James.

    "Then you should also know that like his insufferable father, he is arrogant, conceited, and criticism bounces right off him like water off a duck''s back. Oh, and I nearly forgot ¨C he ispletely ungrateful!"

    Snape''s words were smooth yet dripping with disdain, his obsidian eyes glittering with undisguised loathing as he verbally whipped both Harry and his deceased father.

    Sirius''s grip tightened on his wand, the whites of his knuckles showing as he raised it once more in a threatening gesture, the air practically crackling with pent-up rage and hostility. This time, Dumbledore''s voice took on a stern edge as he interjected.

    "I do not wish to disarm you, Sirius, but if you insist on resorting to senseless violence before me, I will have no choice but to subdue you," Dumbledore warned, his half-moon spectacles glinting as he too gripped his wand.

    In the tense corridor before the hospital wing, Snape and Sirius continued to re daggers at each other, their deep-rooted hatred and animosity towards one anotherid bare for all to see. This enmity clearly ran so deep that even Dumbledore''s presence could not douse the mes of their bitter resentment.

    "Alright¡ª" Bryan pped his hands together, a broad smile on his face as he cheerfully dered in a tone of finality, "All grievances are settled and behind us now!"

    <em>''Where in Merlin''s name did you get that conclusion from?''</em>

    Draco thought incredulously as he eyed Professor Watson with a mixture of disbelief and admiration for his ability to spout such tant nonsense like corrupt Ministry politicians ¨C it was clear that both Professor Snape and the disgusting new DADA professor wished to violently tear each other limb from limb if given half the chance.

    In any case, since Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, the duel could not be allowed to continue. Snape sneered contemptuously and then swiftly turned on his heel, his ck robes wafting behind him as he rapidly departed from the other end of the corridor without a backwards nce.

    Sirius, his expression gloomy and roaring, growled, "If I hear that Snape continues causing trouble for Harry in his Potions ss, Dumbledore¡ª"

    His parting words trailed off in an ominous, unfinished threat before he too leaped past Bryan and Dumbledore, stalking off in the opposite direction. His silhouette was quickly swallowed up by the deep shadows of the stairwell, but a slightly muffled remark still drifted back.

    "¡ªIt will be my responsibility to put a permanent stop to it."

    Dumbledore''s wrinkled features took on a helpless, resigned look, the lines of worry etched deeper into his face, and Bryan smiled shaking his head slowly. Sirius had been stimted by what he said when they first met and his protective instincts as Harry''s godfather fueled to a fever pitch by the heated confrontation and Snape''s scathing words. Both godfather and godson were eager to express their concern for each other, but perhaps they were being a bit too overt and eager about it.

    "What should we do now?" Madam Pomfrey didn''t care about all this. She red at the almost half-destroyed state of the hospital wing in the aftermath of the intense duel and turned her scowling gaze on Dumbledore and said sharply,

    "If Hogwarts doesn''t need a hospital wing anymore, Dumbledore I can submit my resignation right this instant!"

    "The young students cannot do without you, Poppy," Dumbledore replied in a soothing tone, "No need to worry about this unfortunate incident. I can help clean up and restore everything¡ª"

    With that, Dumbledore stepped amidst the wreckage of shattered ss, overturned furniture and scorch marks, giving a casual wave of his wand. Like rewinding the gears of time itself, the entire hospital wing was rapidly restored to its original, undamaged condition as if the previous confrontation had never urred.

    "And you don''t need to worry either, Draco," Bryan said, turning his attention to the pale-faced Malfoy heir. This boy had clearly realized that his troublemaking and disruptive behavior in the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss had been the catalyst that sparked the explosive fight between the two feuding professors. Now, faced with the grave consequences of his actions, Draco seemed visibly shaken and afraid.

    "No one will punish you for this incident," Bryan said with a reassuring smile, attempting tofort the young Slytherin''s fears. However, hisforting words seemed to have the opposite effect, as Draco''s face turned an even more sickly shade of blue, his lips drained of blood until they were practically colorless. Faced with Professor Watson''s words, the shaken boy could only nod stiffly, his body tense and rigid.

    While Dumbledore continued meticulously repairing the heavily damaged hospital wing, carefully restoring each tile, window and fixture to its original state with skillful wandwork, Bryan did not n to linger and offer his assistance to Sirius and Snape in cleaning up the aftermath of their catastrophic sh.

    "Come along now, Draco, apany me to my office I happen to need your help with something¡ª "

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0343 Strange Course

    0343 Strange Course

    That afternoon, not a single young wizard could focus on their lessons. Everyone was engrossed in discussions about the first real duel between professors in the history of Hogwarts.

    Amidst the heated debates, the details of this duel gradually became clearer to all.

    No one was overly surprised that Professor Watson had subdued Professors Snape and ck with just one spell. After all, ever since Professor Watson arrived at Hogwarts, the young wizards had witnessed or heard about many of the extraordinary feats he had aplished recently, and people had grown ustomed to his prowess.

    Now, in the minds of the young wizards, Professor Watson''s image had gradually drawn parallel to Dumbledore''s, and in some houses, there were even whispers that Professor Watson had surpassed their headmaster.

    However, the true source of intense spection centered around the ultimate oue of the heated duel between Professor ck and Professor Snape.

    On this matter, opinions diverged, fracturing the student body into different factions.

    From the select few students who had borne witness to the confrontation firsthand, the finer details of the duel gradually materialized. Yet, regarding the ultimate resolution of this sh, these inexperienced student spectators each clung to their own uniquely skewed interpretations, colored by the lenses of their respective preferences.

    Hufflepuff and Ravenw could still maintain rtively impartial views, but Slytherin students firmly believed their head of house had emerged victorious. In stark contrast, not a single Gryffindor acknowledged that Professor ck had lost the intense duel.

    Within the span of a single afternoon, the very atmosphere that permeated the school had grown inexplicably tense, tense with an undercurrent of simmering animosity.

    Whether in ss or around the castle grounds, whenever Slytherin and Gryffindor students crossed paths, they would re menacingly at each other. The confrontational atmosphere between these rival houses had evenpelled Headmaster Dumbledore to divert the efforts of professors without active ss schedules towards patrolling the corridors, in an effort to maintain the delicate bnce of harmony.

    Curiously, none of the principle figures directly embroiled in this had made a public appearance. Professor ck and Professor Snape had respectively asked their colleagues to cover their sses, while Professor Watson remained in his office. Even Draco had not shown up all afternoon, and by the time night fell, with the dazzling starry sky appearing in the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall during dinner, they still had not been seen.

    Harry withdrew his annoyed gaze from Ernie Macmin of Hufflepuff, having just noticed the animated manner in which Ernie was voicing his opinion on the duel ¨C a conclusion Harry could not ept.

    "Sirius definitely wouldn''t lose to Snape!" Harry dered adamantly once more, his impassioned words eliciting a resounding chorus of enthusiastic agreement from his surrounding housemates. Yet, curiously, neither Ron nor Hermione had expressed their respective viewpoints on the matter. The two exchanged a furtive nce, and Hermione, cautiously said, "Why don''t you go ask Sirius directly, Harry? Surely he wouldn''t hide anything from you¡ª"

    In fact, after sses had ended that afternoon, Ron had suggested they should go ask Sirius about it. But it was Harry who had rejected the proposal.

    "I''d rather not bother him right now, Ron¡ª" Facing Ron''s inquisitive gaze, Harry borated, "He has just taken over Professor Lupin''s duties and has a lot on his te. I don''t want to disturb him over this."

    Harry had stubbornly brushed aside Ron''s suggestion with this reason, but in reality, that was not his true motive.

    With the conspicuous absence of nearly half the faculty members, a substantial portion of the staff tabley vacant. Headmaster Dumbledore was engaged in hushed discussion with the heads of the three remaining houses, while Hagrid, noticing the hint of worry in Harry''s eyes, gave him a reassuring look.

    At that moment, Malfoy, who had been missing for most of the day, suddenly appeared. His face was lit with excitement, as if he had encountered something worth celebrating.

    The trio exchanged nces, a dull feeling surrounding them.

    Usually, whatever made Malfoy happy wouldn''t be good news for them.

    Curiously, Malfoy had appeared in thepany of none other than the grumpy caretaker, Filch. He did not head straight into the Great Hall for dinner but, he instead apanied Filch towards the notice board situated within the entrance hall, where he proceeded to assist the ill-tempered squib in attaching some manner of announcement.

    It was well known that the Malfoy Family had long been staunch supporters of pure-blood supremacy. Draco also looked down upon witches and wizards without pure-blood lineage. During the first half of second year, he had even referred to Hermione as a "Mudblood." And nearly everyone knew that Filch was a Squib.

    Moreover, it wasmon knowledge that the vast majority of Slytherin students routinely treated Filch with thinly veiled contempt whenever their paths intersected within the castle''s corridors. So, for Malfoy, considered a prime representative, to go out of his way assisting Filch was truly puzzling!

    "I bet that codger Filch hase up with some useless new rules again¡ª" Fred scoffed with disdain. He nced towards his brother, unsurprisingly finding a mischievous glint in George''s eyes.

    "Maybe we should give him a taste of his own medicine," George chimed in.

    "You''d both better stay calm¡ª" Hermione interjected, her prating gaze fixed upon the smug face of Malfoy until he had returned to the Slytherin table, enthusiastically discussing something with those around him.

    "Filch now falls under the jurisdiction of the Student Safety Office, which means any decision he makes has been approved by Professor Watson. Unless you don''t mind incurring his wrath, by all means, continue your pranks."

    "Why don''t we go take a look?" Harry suddenly spoke up, his attention captured by Cho Chang from Ravenw. Hand in hand with a girl possessing wavy locks of reddish-gold, they made their way towards the notice board, Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Quidditch team captain who had defeated him in a match the previous year, also rose and caught up with Cho, greeting her before they walked over together.

    Hermione noticed that Harry''s expression was different than usual, and she raised an eyebrow.

    "All right, I suppose we can go have a look directly," she acquiesced, recognizing the futility of resistance in the face of Harry''s newfound resolve.

    Their decisive movement towards the heart of themotion appeared to trigger a catalytic chain reaction, as the sound of scraping chairs and benches reverberated throughout the Great Hall like a thunderous chorus. Unable to contain their insatiable curiosity, students from each of the four long tables surged forth in a great tide, surging towards the entrance hall.

    Within mere moments, the spacious entrance hall grew increasingly crowded, the press of bodies leaving those at the front tightlypressed against one another. Harry found himself mere inches from Cho, close enough to detect the delicate floral fragrance of her hair wafting tantalizingly upon the air. He felt his heart racing faster than it ever had, even more intense than the breathless anticipation that gripped him in the split second before seizing the Golden Snitch during a hard-fought Quidditch match. This heady sensation left him utterly intoxicated, yet bewildered, until he noticed Cho giving him an odd look, snapping him back to reality.

    "Huh, what?" Harry blurted, suddenly aware that Cho had been saying something to him, but he hadn''t heard a word, so he hurriedly asked in embarrassment.

    "Oh¡ª"

    Cho bit her lip, a subtle gesture that Harry found utterly captivating, as she struggled against the relentless press of bodies, her arm inadvertently brushing against Harry''s chest. Offering him an apologetic smile, she said, "I was asking how your godfather, Professor ck, is doing. Everyone''s been discussing his duel with Professor Snape!"

    Confronted with this query, Harry realized that he was uninformed regarding Sirius''s current state in the aftermath of the duel. Hesitantly, he parted his lips to respond, but before he could utter a word, Cedric, having overheard their exchange, boldly interjected.

    "I reckon Professor ck wouldn''t lose to Snape. He''s a hero, isn''t he? The Dementors of Azkaban couldn''t defeat him."

    Harry felt uneasy at Cedric''s unsought input, but he had no choice but to respond in kind.

    "I agree with you," Harry nodded. "I don''t think anything could defeat him."

    Cho clearly knew Cedric better, and seemed more familiar, even intimate with him. As they read the announcement together, they started discussing the recent Quidditch match between Ravenw and Hufflepuff the previous weekend, which Ravenw had ultimately won.

    In stark contrast to Fred''s dismissive im that Cedric was "dumb as a rock and too dim to string two words together," he appeared remarkably adept at the art of ttery. After exchanging but a few artfully constructed phrases, Cho''s attention had been wholly diverted from Harry, leaving him feeling utterly isted amidst the crowd.

    If the earlier sensation was akin to floating on clouds, Harry now felt as though he had been brutally stomped into an icy hell. Not only were there issues with his vision, but even the words on the notice right before his eyes seemed to evade his sight, leaving him utterly distraught and unable to make out anything.

    Hermione, who was standing behind them, saw everything clearly. Faced with Harry easily giving in, she could only sigh and had nothing else to say.

    "Oh, Professor Watson is nning to introduce a physical education and training ss to train the physical abilities of young witches and wizards, starting with the third and fourth year students¡ªthose from other years who harbor an interest may submit an application to the Office of Student Safety, conditional upon securing the approval of their respective house heads," Ron eximed loudly.

    "Physical education? Physical abilities training? What strange terms!" he added, his brow furrowing as he struggled to grasp the unfamiliar concepts.

    Ron frowned as he looked at the frowning Hermione, who was half a head shorter than him and ring at him disapprovingly.

    "Why did you step on me?!"

    Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron''sint.

    "The notice clearly states that the course covers physical training, exercise, and the development of attributes such as strength, endurance, and agility," she rified in a tone one might reserve for a particrly dense child. "It maybe intended to elevate the overall fitness levels of the students."

    "But why would they want to introduce something so...Muggley?" Ron wondered aloud, his bewilderment palpable as the foreign concept shed with his ingrained perceptions of the wizarding world.

    "Perhaps Professor Watson holds the belief that establishing a strong physical foundation contributes to bing a more powerful witch or wizard," Hermione hypothesized, undeterred by Ron''s apparent ignorance. "In any case, it seems this new policy has his full backing."

    "I dunno, it still sounds barmy to me," Ron muttered, though his protestcked real conviction.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0344 The Attention

    0344 The Attention

    It was 9 o''clock in the evening, a time when the studious young students of Gryffindor Tower would typically be getting ready for bed. However, on this particr night, the warmly lit Gryffindormon room remained abuzz with activity, as hordes of eager witches and wizards engaged in lively discussion. The subject of this heated discussion was none other than the highly anticipated uing physical education ss to be taught by the Professor Watson. Even the Gryffindor prefects forgot to remind everyone to maintain order, joining in on the heated discussion.

    In such situations, when a matter of hot topic arises in the wizarding world or Hogwarts itself, ''natives'' like Ron are often more sought after for their insights. Because they are born and raised in the Wizarding world, they have a deeper understanding of the Wizarding society and possess more magical knowledge than young wizards like Harry who grew up in the Muggle world. Of course, there are also "oddities" like Hermione.

    However, this time, the situation was different. The students born and raised in the wizarding world flocked around those like Harry, Hermione, Dean, and Seamus, who grew up in the Muggle world, eager to learn about this ''physical education'' ss.

    Amidst the indistinct buzzing, the Fat Lady''s portrait swung open, and Percy Weasley, the Head Boy, squeezed his way in. Upon witnessing the motion'' in themon room, he instinctively frowned, intending to reprimand them. However, considering the special circumstances and the fact that he was also breaking school rules, he ultimately swallowed the rebuke that had risen to his lips.

    "Don''t block the entrance, Mr. Head Boy!" came a boisterous voice, followed by the arrival of Percy''s twin brothers, Fred and George, who squeezed their way through the portrait hole. They grasped Percy''s arms, forcibly pulling him aside to clear the path for their younger sister Ginny, as well as Colin Creevey and a few others trailing behind them.

    "How is it?" Ron called out, waving to them from his position near the flickering mes of the firece''s candlelight.

    "Easy-peasy," George responded nonchntly, tousling his hair in a show of bravado. "Didn''t take much effort, did it, Fred?"

    "Excuse me,ing through, make way¨C" Fred interjected, yanking Ron from the sofa he had upied and plopping down upon it with an exaggerated exhtion. "We did have to put in some effort to convince her to sign the application form, though. Professor McGonagall didn''t have any issues with Ginny''s application, but she clearly wasn''t too keen on George and me joining as well."

    Fred shook his head regretfully, his expression one of mild disappointment. "She''s worried this might cause our OWL scores to be even more dismal. But honestly, who cares about that stuff? You don''t care, do you, George?"

    "Nope, don''t care," George replied bluntly, his casual indifference evident in his tone and demeanor.

    Ginny giggled at her brothers'' antics, while Ron, unable to secure a seat, red at her discontentedly.

    "Speaking of which, why did you apply to join? You''re only in second-year, and you''re a girl, aren''t you?"

    "Do you have any prejudice against girls, Ron?" Ginny retorted, displeased by her brother''s attitude. Yet, upon noticing Harry''s watchful gaze upon her, her pale cheeks immediately flushed, and her tone became markedly less confrontational.

    "Professor Watson must hope his ss will gain more support, right? He rescued me from the Chamber of Secrets; I should be grateful. Plus, I think this ss will be really interesting!"

    This was indeed apelling reason. Professor Watson had done their Weasley family a great favor, a point Ron couldn''t argue with.

    "Interesting? Well, maybe not," Ron muttered under his breath, his skepticism remaining undiminished.

    "I chose to join for the same reason," Percy interjected, his tone serious. "You probably don''t realize how much I have on my te right now. I have sses, NEWTs to prepare for, order to maintain, and my future to n for."

    It was no secret that Percy''s ambitionsy in joining the Ministry of Magic, he didn''t shy away from discussing it.

    "I thought it was for your girlfriend!" Ginny retorted, her grin revealing her mischievous intent. "I overheard her talking with friends in the entrance hall. She''s interested in Professor Watson''s ss and ns to get Professor Flitwick to sign her application form!"

    Percy''s face visibly reddened at his sister''s teasing remark, making it abundantly clear to all present that this might, in fact, be the true catalyst behind his willingness to dedicate time to the seemingly trivial physical education ss.

    "If you want to join the Ministry, Percy, I think you should talk to Professor Watson," Hermione suggested, her tone one of earnest helpfulness. She and Percy had always had a good rtionship, perhaps the closest among the Weasley siblings aside from Ron himself. Hermione had often consulted Percy on academic matters, and during their exchanges, he had frequently disclosed his aspirations to secure a position within the Ministry of Magic.

    While Mr. Weasley himself worked at the Ministry, Hermione was certain that he could notpare to Professor Watson in terms of high-level connections and influence. After all, Mr. Weasley definitely couldn''t help her in resolving the issue of her Time-Turner so easily like Professor Watson did.

    "Oh, you''re right, Hermione!" Percy eximed, his eyes widening as realization dawned upon him. "My dad mentioned in his letter that Professor Watson has a very good rtionship with the Minister and Madam Bones from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Perhaps he could write me a letter of rmendation to help me join that department. Oh, it''s the most powerful department in the Ministry! Thank you, Hermione; I''ll go figure out how to persuade Professor Watson!"

    With that, Percy hurriedly departed, his figure disappearing up the spiraling staircase that led to the dormitories.

    "Tsk, tsk, a creature of power without emotions,"

    Fred sighed, shaking his head in mock dismay, and his sarcasticment made everyone burst intoughter.

    "By the way, what were you all discussing earlier?" Ginny inquired, her curiosity piqued by the lively debate.

    "Harry and Seamus were telling me about what physical education is like in Muggle schools," Neville said worriedly. "I don''t think I''ll be very good at this ss."

    "Don''t worry, Neville," Dean saidforting him. "This won''t be the only ss you''re not good at."

    "But it does sound rather silly," Ron interjected, his brow furrowed in perplexity. "Harry just told us about some of the activities he did in this ss at Muggle school. They don''t use broomsticks or bats, just a bunch of people chasing a non-flying leather ball around on the ground, or lifting an iron ball to see who can throw it the farthest. I can''t understand why Muggles would enjoy such sports, and is Professor Watson really going to teach us to y these things in physical education ss?"

    "To be fair, football may not be as exciting as Quidditch, but it''s still quite fun," Harry countered. "Many Muggles around the world enjoy the sport immensely. It''s not certain, Ron; we all know Professor Watson likes to do the unexpected."

    "But no matter what, the name of this sses from Muggles, doesn''t it? And Hogwarts is a school of magic," Ron persisted, his frown deepening as he crossed his arms over his chest in a posture of stubborn skepticism.

    "Perhaps..." Hermione began, her expression contemtive as she gave the most usible exnation thus far. "Professor Watson hopes we can gain a better understanding of Muggles through their sports. Aside from Mr. Weasley, many wizards don''t care about changes in the Muggle world. But Muggles are quite remarkable; they''ve ovee numerous challenges through technology. Professor Dumbledore often tells us publicly that we need to acknowledge Muggle progress, but it has little effect. Maybe Professor Watson is trying to bridge the gap between the two worlds in this way."

    Hermione''s reasoning was sound, offering a logical justification for the introduction of this unorthodox ss. Yet, as some of the students contemted her words, a nagging doubt lingered ¨C Hogwarts already had Muggle Studies; what need was there for Professor Watson to encroach upon Professor Charity Burbage''s domain?

    As the heated discussions continued to swirl through Hogwarts, the familiar figures of Professors ck and Snape reappeared at the staff table, their demeanors outwardly calm and ignoring each other as usual much to the disappointment of the few hopeful students who had anticipated a reappearance of the dramatic confrontation witnessed earlier.

    In the days that followed, the anticipation surrounding Professor Watson''s uing physical education ss continued to escte, permeating the very atmosphere of Hogwarts. Although the notice had clearly stated that only third- and fourth-year students were required to participate, there were quite a few of upper-year students from each of the four houses who had submitted applications.

    The heads of the respective houses, recognizing the extraordinary nature of the situation, had made the application process a convenient affair for the students. Unless there were truly exceptional circumstances, most applications were swiftly approved, though the students were cautioned that this ss might prove to be more challenging than they anticipated, and that they should prepare themselves ordingly, both mentally and physically.

    After an agonizingly protracted weekend spent in restless anticipation, all eyes were fixed upon Professor Watson''s ''physical education'' ss as it finally began on Monday morning.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0345 The Class

    0345 The ss

    In the early hours before dawn, when the sky was still cloaked in the inky darkness of night, the distant horizon where the earth met the sky was tinged with only a faint, ethereal greenish glow. The gentle breeze that driftedzily across the ssy surface of the ck Lake and undted through the verdant grass was not fierce or biting, but it carried with it a subtle chill that sent a shiver gushing down Harry''s neck, raising goosebumps all over his arms.

    Harry stamped his slightly numb feet, desperately trying to reignite the warmth that had seeped from them during the chilly pre-dawn hours. Turning to nce at Hermione, he noticed that her eyshes were glistening with tiny, dewy droplets. Harry subconsciously reached up and ran his fingers through his own hair, confirming that it too was damp with the same morning dew that had settled upon them like a fine mist.

    At the Quidditch Pitch, nestled beneath the towering Quidditch poles piercing the darkness, as a diverse assembly of around a hundred young witches and wizards huddled together, their bodies trembling as the cold wind whipped around them. Among this shivering mass were all the third and fourth-year students from the four houses, as well as twenty to thirty upper years above fifth year and a handful of second years.

    As Harry studied the hunched, diversely dressed students, each draped in an array of mismatched Muggle attire that stood in stark contrast to their usual wizarding robes, a sudden, unexpected urge tough welled up within him. The sight of so many young magical folk dressed in such ordinary, everyday casual clothing was an umon sight indeed, and one that struck him as deeply amusing, despite the early hour and the bone-chilling cold.

    It had been only a few days since Professor Watson had first announced this new ss and confirmed the roster, but yesterday, a second-year Ravenw girl had been posting a new notice ¨C one that required all the young witches and wizards to arrive at the grounds before six o''clock in the morning on Monday, dressed in outfits suitable for exercise.

    Typically, apart from Saturdays and Sundays, the young students of Hogwarts were required to don their wizarding robe-like school uniforms during normal ss times. Seeing over a hundred of their number d in casual everyday clothes at the school was quite an umon sight for the viewers.

    The faint light on the horizon provided little in the way of warmth, and the young witches and wizards shivered in the cold wind, with hardly anyone in the mood for conversation ¨C Harry included.

    Percy''s girlfriend was huddled asleep in his arms, her head nestled against his chest as she sought refuge from the chill. Ginny leaned heavily against Hermione''s shoulder, stifling yawns as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. Ron had simply plopped down cross-legged on the dewy grass, his soft snores joining the whisper of the wind as he sumbed to slumber.

    Most of the surrounding students were in a simr state of fuzzy-eyed fatigue, with drooping eyelids and slouched postures revealing their weariness. Harry was certain that if Professor Watson''s new ''physical education'' ss demanded they wake up this early on a regr basis, the prank products Fred and George were developing for skipping ss would surelye in handy and find an eager market among the sleep-deprived masses.

    After another ten minutes had passed, roughly seventy to eighty percent of the students were sprawled across the ground, as theyy prone upon the soft grass. Most of the remaining few swayed unsteadily on their feet, their eyes nk and unfocused as they struggled to remain upright. Only the second-year Ravenw girl who had helped Professor Watson post the notice yesterday remained stoically staring at the fog-shrouded ck Lake, her posture straight and unwavering.

    Harry noticed that this young witch seemed to be wearing some sort of ne, likely metallic judging by how it glinted faintly in the weak dawn light that had begun to creep across the grounds. With nothing better to upy his wandering mind, Harry nkly stared at her neck, trying to make out the shape or form of whatever it was that was reflecting the light and catching his eye.

    However, the Ravenw girl suddenly turned around, her silvery eyes ¨C the brightest and most vibrant thing in the dimly lit sky.

    "Oh, sorry--" Harry immediately realized his rudeness and hurriedly apologized to her, but the sound from behind made him understand that he had misinterpreted the situation ¨C this young witch was not looking at him.

    "I did warn you all--" A familiar, teasing voice carried over on the breeze, causing the drowsy students to jolt upright one by one as if awakened from a trance.

    "To get some rest early. My ss won''t give you a chance to doze off--" It was Professor Watson, his warm, cheerful tones unmistakable even in the pre-dawn haze. Like the students, he had shed his wizarding attire, donning instead a crisp Muggle-style athletic tracksuit. And as usual, he appeared lively and energetic, seemingly unaffected by the early rise that had sapped the vitality from his young students.

    Not a single student responded to Professor Watson''s jesting remark. They listlessly hung their heads, their bodies sagging, with the possible exception of Fred and George, who were ustomed to spending most of the night wandering the corridors and then rising early for ss.

    "What do we need to do, Professor?" Fred asked eagerly, staring at Professor Watson, who stood tall and straight, his posture radiating confidence and authority.

    "Like Muggles, toss metal balls through the Quidditch hoops? Do we need our broomsticks?"

    "Muggles don''t have such a sport, Fred," Bryan chuckled, the warm rumble of hisughter cutting through the chill morning air. He then pped his hands together, raising his voice to carry across the pitch as he announced loudly, "For now, the first thing I need you all to do is perk up and gather around me!"

    When Professor Watson taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, no young wizard dared to neglect his instructions. But this time, it took a while for the young wizards to sluggishly gather around him, their bodies moving as if weighted down by invisible burdens, their feet dragging across the dewy grass.

    Seeing their tired and young faces, etched with the lines of exhaustion and weariness, Bryan smiled inwardly. He didn''t scold them either. These young ones would need some time to adjust.

    When Professor Watson began speaking, Hermione immediately forced herself to focus, shaking off the fatigue that threatened to cloud her mind. She was the only student who had brought a notebook, clearly intent on taking meticulous notes as was her custom, but Professor Watson stopped her this time with a gentle wave of his hand.

    "No need to take notes, Miss Granger. Just listen,"

    ncing at the newly risen sun peeking over the horizon, its radiant rays fanning out in a cross shape that painted the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, Bryan raised his voice and said,

    "Perhaps you are all curious why I have introduced a Muggle-style physical education ss at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and what exactly I will be teaching you in this ss."

    This had indeed been the subject of great interest and fervent spection ever since Professor Watson had first announced the new ss. The young wizards gradually regained their focus, pushing aside their weariness as they listened attentively to his words.

    "But allow me to apologize, as I will not be answering those two questions today."

    Bryan''s words were met with a chorus of disappointed sighs drifting across the chilly Quidditch pitch. Hermione immediately raised her hand, her posture rigid with the familiar intensity she exhibited whenever she sensed an opportunity to expand her knowledge. With the professor''s permission, she asked furrowing her brows in confusion.

    "But shouldn''t we at least know what we''re supposed to be learning? I mean, otherwise, how else are we going to be able to adequately prepare andplete any homework or assignments?"

    "There will be no homework or assignments for the time being, Miss Granger," Bryan said with a smile, his expression one of gentle reassurance.

    Unlike the other sses except Quidditch at Hogwarts, where homework and assignments were asmon as the ancient stone walls that surrounded them, Professor Watson''s deration that there would be no such things in this new ''physical education'' ss was met with a reaction that defied expectations. Rather than eliciting cheers of joy from the weary students, his statement instead seemed to confuse them even more, their expressions ranging from bewilderment to outright skepticism.

    "First, you need to understand," Bryan continued once the murmurs of uncertainty had subsided, "that this new ''physical education'' ss will not take up your regr ss time for now. In fact, during the initial phase, it will only require your presence here before six o''clock every morning."

    "Every day?!" Ron cried out in despair, his voice cracking with a mixture of disbelief at the prospect of such a grueling schedule. "Even Saturdays and Sundays?!"

    "Six o''clock?" As Ron''s outcry faded into the morning air, Hermione''s roommate, Lavender Brown of Gryffindor, wailed in distress, her voice thick with concern that bordered on melodramatic. "But only proper sleep can ensure glowing skin and a radiantplexion!"

    "If preserving your skin''s radiance matters more than your desire for self-improvement, Miss Lavender Brown," Professor Watson''s smile faded as an indescribable seriousness emanated from his easy-going expression, weighing heavily upon the young witches and wizards like a palpable force, "then by all means, return to your warm four-poster bed and continue your slumber."

    Looking at the young wizards who had fallen silent, Bryan sighed and softened his tone,

    "My words were not meant to scare you. In fact, you are allowed to withdraw from this physical education ss, but the deadline is only one month. Within that month, if anyone feels this ss is meaningless, you don''t need to inform me ¨C you may leave at any time, no questions asked. However, after one month, those of you who choose to remain must persevere until the end of this course."

    Hermione furrowed her brow once more, her eyes narrowing slightly as she spected silently on Professor Watson''s intentions and the deeper meaning behind his carefully chosen words. Harry, ncing towards Malfoy, saw a determined look etched upon his pale features, without a trace of the doubt or hesitation that lingered in the eyes of many others. Seeing his rival''s apparent resolve, Harry also let go of his own uneasiness and quietly waited for Professor Watson''s instructions.

    Ron opened his mouth as if to speak, perhaps to voice his objections, but then thought better of it after noticing the resolve in Harry and Hermione''s silence. Even his younger sister Ginny had clenched her fists, her jaw set in a determined line as she appeared eager to tackle the challenge head-on, without reservation or fear. So, wisely, he closed his mouth, swallowing his protests for the time being as he too turned his attention to the professor.

    Not a single young wizard chose to withdraw and depart in that moment, a decision which did not surprise Bryan in the slightest. The lure of the unknown, the tantalizing promise of expanding their magical abilities, was simply too strong for them. However, how many would remain after that one-month mark was thrust upon them remained to be seen, a question to which even Bryan himself did not know the answer.

    "Very well, then--" Bryan gestured broadly with one hand, sweeping it across the expanse of the grassy field that stretched out beneath their feet like a verdant carpet. "The first thing we need to do, and it must be done continuously for the entire month without interruption or exception, is to run twentyps around the Quidditch pitch every morning."

    A collective gasp rippled through the assembled students, their eyes widening in a mixture of disbelief and anxiety. Twentyps around the pitch may not have seemed an impossible feat on its own, but coupled with the ungodly hour and the bone-chilling cold that still lingered in the air, it took on an entirely new level of challenge.

    Looking at the astonished young wizards, Bryan smiled and said,

    "What are you all waiting for? Ladies and gentlemen, Start running!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0346 Subsequent Impact

    0346 Subsequent Impact

    In the aftermath of the intense duel between the Sirius and Snape, those with foresight could have effortlessly predicted the rippling waves of change that would soon engulf the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

    These transformative undercurrents manifested themselves most prominently among the young wizardsfrom the rival houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin. The deep-seated rivalry and longstanding animosity that had long simmered between these two factions now erupted into open hostility, an unrestrained bushfire of mutual disdain and suspicion.

    Whether within the Great Hall, the corridors that snaked through the ancient castle, the verdant courtyard, or the ssrooms, the students from these rival houses barelymunicated, their gazes locked in a constant state of guarded vignce, ever watchful for the slightest hint of treachery or attacks from the opposing faction.

    This atmosphere of mistrust and wariness was not born of mere paranoia or unfounded spection. During this time, Harry himself had encountered numerous pranks and attacks on his way to and from sses. Although there was no evidence proving it was Malfoy, Harry was certain that one afternoon, someone hiding around a corner of the stairs had secretly tripped him, and after he fell, threw a Dungbomb at his head ¨C that person had to be Malfoy.

    While Harry''s suspicions pointed an usatory finger squarely at Draco, the young Slytherin''s actions were undoubtedly irrational, as he seemed to have forgotten that when it came to the sheer quantity and potency of Dungbombs, he was hopelessly outmatched by the mischievous twins of Gryffindor, Fred and George Weasley. In fact, the very Dungbombs that Malfoy had used in his pranks might have even been sold by Fred and George themselves.

    One evening in mid-March, after the Slytherins finished Professor Sinistra''s Astronomy ss, as they descended the Astronomy Tower and crossed the inner courtyard to return to the main castle, intending to use the underground passage beside the entrance hall to reach the Slytherinmon room located underground. However, as they crossed this open expanse, the enticing aroma wafting from the Great Hall proved an irresistible distraction for the ever-gluttonous Crabbe and Goyle, momentarily diverting their attention from their intended path.

    What happened next needs no exnation.

    When Filch arrived, attracted by the enraged roars and desperate cries for help, the flickering Great Hall was filled with the unbearable stench of Dungbombs, causing him to vomit immediately. Despite Filch''s herculean efforts to eradicate the foul odor throughout the night, hisbors proved futile, as the air remained tainted by the lingering stench, a stinking reminder of the audacious prank.

    Needless to say, the heads of all four houses were furious. They promptly ordered their prefects, Head Boys, and Head Girls, ordering them to strengthen the night patrols and maintain a vignt watch over the castle''s corridors. Furthermore, They personally interrogated the portraits that hung near the walls of the Great Hall, seeking any clues or insights they might possess regarding the identities of the students who had dared to orchestrate such a daring and unruly prank.

    s, their inquiries yielded no useful information, as the culprit seemed to possess a keen awareness of counter-surveince tactics and had left no discernible trail to follow.

    "It truly puzzles me, Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape said to Dumbledore while summarizing the limited information they had gathered, his dark prating eyes fixing upon Sirius with undisguised suspicion, "Who in this school excels at evading pursuit and concealing their tracks?"

    "If you ask for my opinion, Severus," Dumbledore calmly replied, his voice a soothing balm amidst the tension that permeated the air as he gently set down his silver fork, "from what I know, Bryan possesses quite a formidable skill set in that particr area."

    "Speak from the heart, Headmaster," Bryan responded with a dismissive roll of his eyes, his toneced with yful sarcasm. "Your expertise in this area is unmatched by any wizard."

    "Are you suspecting me, Snape?" Sirius met Snape''s usatory gaze unflinchingly, refusing to be intimidated by Snape''s thinly veiled taunts and implications.

    "I am not using anyone," Snape countered smoothly, his lips curling into a serpentine smile that showed no hint of the malice that simmered beneath the surface. "I am merely reminding everyone present thatst Halloween, a beast also managed to sneak into this school unnoticed."

    "If you want to know the answer," Sirius replied, his voiceced with icy contempt, "I can tell you that I detest that Malfoy boy, just like his father, with their minds full of schemes. However, I did not throw a Dungbomb at his head like he did to someone."

    "For heaven''s sake, you two!" Professor McGonagall interjected, her stern features knotted into a mask of barely contained fury as she red at Snape and Sirius. "Can''t you refrain from arguing during meals? Haven''t you noticed that the students are watching you?"

    This impending confrontation, which threatened to escte into a full-blown altercation, was swiftly defused by Professor McGonagall''s forceful intervention before it could reach its climax. As the meal drew to a close and the attendees prepared to depart, Dumbledore issued a solemn warning, his words carrying the weight of his position as the Headmaster, as he expressed his fervent hope that the tense atmosphere that had enveloped Hogwarts Castle over the past two weeks would finally dissipate, restoring the sense of tranquility and harmony.

    "I indeed didn''t take action against that Malfoy boy," Sirius confessed to Bryan as they ascended the zigzagging staircase to the third floor, his solemn expression transforming into a triumphant, smug smile that showed the mischievous delight he derived from his scheming. The office they were headed towards had once belonged to Remus, and it was within these familiar confines that Sirius felt reassured to reveal the true extent of his involvement. "I just gave the Weasley twins and Harry some pointers. To pull off a prank without getting caught¨C they need to be wary of those portraits that like to snitch."

    "Please, don''t cause me any more trouble," Bryan said, his grim expression showing no surprise at Sirius''s admission of participation in the recent incident. A hint of annoyance tinged his voice as he spoke, his words carrying an undercurrent of exasperation. "It was me who got rid of Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle, as well as the stench of dung bombs in the Great Hall!"

    Undoubtedly, Dumbledore had issued a private warning to Snape, urging him to exercise restraint and refrain from further escting the tensions that had gripped the school. Sirius, too, had toned down his aggression after Bryan''s persuasive words, recognizing the need to avoid fanning the mes of discord any further.

    Regardless of the individual motivations, to a certain extent, the palpable atmosphere of hostility that had simmered between the houses of Slytherin and Gryffindor had somewhat subsided.

    However, this school faced more than just one issue. Bryan''s physical education ss had an undeniable impact on the teaching of various professors at Hogwarts.

    Although Bryan had made targeted effort to schedule his sses in the early morning hours, thereby avoiding any direct conflict with the established academic timetable, the endurance of the young wizards was finite, their physical capacities were exhausted by the demands of his rigorous curriculum.

    Rousing themselves from the warm, enveloping embrace of their four-poster beds while the world outside was still cloaked in the inky darkness of pre-dawn, and venturing forth onto the Quidditch pitch before 6 a.m. without breakfast, proved an arduous trial for even the most dedicated students.

    Now, with the exception of Professor Binns''s notoriously drowsy History of Magic lectures, even in the sses taught by Professor McGonagall and Snape, some young wizards struggled to stay awake.

    "Perhaps you could schedule your sses in the evening like Aurora does, Bryan," Professor McGonagall finally confronted Bryan in his office, her voice raised in exasperation. "Look at the situation now; this morning, at least a quarter of the fourth-year Ravenw students were dozing off in my ss!"

    "Only a quarter, Professor McGonagall," Bryan responded with a sly smile. "That proportion isn''t too high, is it?"

    "That''s because there are only a quarter of the fourth-year Ravenw left who are still attending your Physical Education sspared to before!" Professor McGonagall said with a grim face.

    Indeed, her assessment was urate. Within the first week of Bryan''s ssmencing, approximately one-third of the young wizards had already abandoned and most of them were from Ravenw; mostly girls. They had no interest in this Muggle sport that offered no enjoyment. They were the ones who gave up the ss the most among the four houses.

    Bryan didn''t mind this at all. As he had said before, he had anticipated this situation.

    The remaining young wizards also found the course tiring and boring, but they persisted for various reasons. It was estimated that after a month, fewer than fifty young wizards would remain.

    Neville might have been the only student genuinely enjoying the ss.

    <strong>*Gryffindor Common Room*</strong>

    "This ss is very simple¡ª"

    Neville said in the gloomymon room on Friday evening, as the young wizards who had persisted until now would have to continue rising early the next morning,pletely undermining the purpose of the weekend.

    "I mean, it doesn''t require much thinking, you know, and that''s what I''m afraid of!"

    For the rarely optimistic Neville, the others didn''t know what to say anymore.

    "And besides," Neville added, rising from his seat and patting his belly with an impish grin, "I can guarantee that my grandmother will be utterly surprised when I return home for the summer holidays. She''s tried so many ways to help me lose weight."

    Neville''s light-hearted joke, however, failed to elicit the desired humor from hispanions, whose expressions remained somber and pensive in the face of the mounting pressures they all endured.

    It was Ginny who finally broke the contemtive silence.

    "Today, I ran into Percy in the library. He told me that Penelope has decided to drop Professor Watson''s ss because she dozed off in Professor Snape''s Potions ss and failed to handle the sshing potion from her cauldron in time, resulting in arge boil on her nose. This really upset Percy."

    "Oh," Hermione frowned, her brow furrowing as she pondered the implications of Ginny''s words. "So, what is Percy going to do? Will he drop the ss too?"

    "I think he''ll stick with it," Ginny replied, her delicate fingers absentmindedly twirling a strand of her vibrant red hair as she spoke. "Of course, he shares our view that we''re not Muggle athletes, so why should we expend so much effort on physical training? But you all know that he ns to ask Professor Watson for a rmendation letter. If he drops out of this ss, he won''t feel right going to Professor Watson for that. Anyway, he''s graduating in a few months."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0347 Sad Things

    0347 Sad Things

    Generally speaking, the Friday evenings were the most rxed and eagerly anticipated time for the young witches and wizards at Hogwarts. The weekend offered a much-needed relief, and tomorrow was another such coveted asion when the picturesque wizarding vige of Hogsmeade would be open to students. However, within the cozy confines of each house''smon room, typically bustling with spirited chatter, now hung heavy and somber atmosphere.

    Ginny, had just finished criticizing her pompous older brother Percy, but after that, an uneasy silence descended upon the assembled students, none daring to break the palpable tension.

    "Anyway¡ª" Seamus finally shrugged, and voiced what everyone was thinking, "I''ve decided to give up. Honestly, I don''t see any point in this ss¡ªI mean, if I want to exercise, I have many choices, rather than running around the Quidditch pitch like a starving idiot before dawn every day, circling the goal posts endlessly."

    The fact was, in the wizarding world, Quidditch was the beloved pastime of everyone, cherished and revered by young and old alike. If Professor Watson had intended to teach them advanced flying skills, thisborious and tedious routine certainly wouldn''t have been the chosen method.

    "I agree¡ª" Dean Thomas raised his hand as well, his voice carrying a note of resignation. "Professor Watson may have his unorthodox methods for teaching us to deal with dark creatures, but I can''t let this ss disrupt the delicate bnce of my life at school any longer."

    Among those engaged in the heated discussion, the one undoubtedly most affected by Professor Watson''s unconventional course was Hermione. She had ambitiously chosen the most courses of anyone, and she devoted a considerable portion of her evenings to meticulously preparing for sses and voraciously devouring books of knowledge. Professor Watson''s rigorous physical education ss had unquestionably disrupted her finely-tuned rhythm, causing her immense worry.

    Of course, Harry as well as the mischievous Weasley twins, Fred and George, were also troubled by the arduous demands of this perplexing ss.

    The three of them were all vital members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and their upromising captain, Oliver Wood, would certainly not excuse them from the regr twice-weekly evening Quidditch practices simply because they had added an intensive physical training course to their already daunting schedules.

    To be perfectly honest, the primary reason the Weasley children had persevered until now was mostly out of deep gratitude to Professor Watson, who saved them from the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets and this favor could never be forgotten or repaid. Otherwise, neither the fun-loving pranksters Fred and George, nor the oftenzy Ron, would have continued to subject themselves to such grueling things. On the contrary, the spirited Ginny still had expectations for the future development of this course.

    "Malfoy''s twockeys gave up the second day. I thought Professor Watson would be furious¡ª" Ron muttered, his voiceced with bewilderment.

    This was indeed a puzzling and unprecedented situation. No professor at Hogwarts would typically stand idly by as students casually abandoned their course, but Professor Watson seemed to regard the dwindling number of students with an indifferent, almost casual disregard. He just required those who remained present toplete their daily tasks, turning a blind eye to the steadily diminishing number of students, much to the dismay of the dedicated students.

    "What does Sirius say, Harry? Have you asked him?" Hermione looked at Harry, her voice tinged with cautious curiosity.

    "No¡ª" Harry shook his head, his unruly hair locks swaying with the motion. "But I can ask him about it tomorrow when we go to Hogsmeade together."

    There was nothing much to say tonight. Since Professor Watson had mandated their early morning runs, the near-three-year tradition ofte-night chats in the cozy Gryffindor dormitory had vanished, reced by wearyints. They now hurried toplete the assignments for their various sses, then hastened to their beds before ten o''clock, lest they stumble and fall from the ever-shifting staircases due to overwhelming drowsiness when venturing downstairs at the crack of dawn.

    The rm sounded with punctual precision at the first pale glimmers of dawn, its shrill tones slicing through the heavy slumber. Harry, with the practiced ease, skillfully silenced it with a p of his hand, drawing in a deep, steadying breath as his eyes remained tightly closed.

    Groggily, he stripped off his tattered pajamas and pulled on one of Dudley''s oversized, ill-fitting T-shirts¡ªmost of his Muggle clothes were hand-me-downs from his grotesquely spoiled cousin. During his regrettable years living with the Dursley family, his magic-fearing aunt and uncle wouldn''t have condescended to prepare well-fitting clothes for their unwanted nephew. In fact they considered the act of feeding him daily to be an immense and undeserved kindness, believing he should be eternally grateful they hadn''t starved him to death.

    After entering the wizarding world, Harry had learned that his parents, had left him a substantial inheritance stored in the underground vaults of the Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

    This considerable fortune would be more than enough tofortably sustain him throughout his seven years at Hogwarts, yet he was still a bit too young and inexperienced to indulge invish spending. Of course, Harry could have easily used a portion of his newfound wealth to acquire proper athletic wear, sleek sneakers, and other coveted Muggle clothes he had longed for during his deprived childhood. However, by now, he no longer felt the urgent need to do so, content with his modest belongings.

    Professor Watson''s boring physical education ss hadn''t been entirely useless. At the very least, after the grueling half-month, Harry had grown ustomed to the unforgiving routine of rousing before the break of dawn, a stark contrast to that first day morning when the groggy students of their Gryffindor dormitory had nearly crawled down the stairs in a zombie-like trance.

    By the time Harry returned to the dormitory after freshening up in themunal bathroom, he waspletely awake. His schedule for the day was delightfully rxed. Afterpleting the mandatory exercise schedule and hastily eating breakfast, he nned to return to his dormitory to catch up on much-needed sleep. Before ten o''clock, he would depart for Hogsmeade, thanks to his godfather Sirius allowing him to visit openly rather than using the secret passageway concealed behind the stoic statue of the Hunchbacked Witch.

    Lunch would also be taken care of in Hogsmeade followed by an eagerly anticipated shopping to Honeydukes to replenish his dwindling reserves of candies and sweets. A subsequent visit to the Zonko''s Joke Shop was also in order, to stock up on an arsenal of Dungbombs¡ªwhile Harry himself harbored no particr fondness for such crass pranks, Malfoy''s recent malicious antics had convinced him of their strategic necessity as a deterrent against future attacks.

    Hermione would undoubtedly insist on a academic detour to Scrivenshaft''s Quill Shop to replenish her rapidly depleting supply of quills, ink, and parchment, or perhaps browse through the stacks of Tomes and Scrolls. Her quills, ink, notebooks, and other things were always the first to be consumed amongst the studious young witches and wizards. All of these would likely consume the entirety of their afternoon in the tranquil vige. Before five o''clock, they would need to hurry back to the familiar confines of Hogwarts, hastening to join in the evening feast in the Great Hall.

    Upon returning to the Gryffindormon room, they wouldplete theplex astronomical star charts assigned for that evening. And, as was their new tradition, the evening would inevitably conclude in a round ofints andmentations regarding the unorthodox demands of Professor Watson''s confusing physical education ss.

    When Harry walked out of the bathroom, freshly energized, and re-entered the still-gloomy confines of the dormitory, the scene that greeted him gave him momentary pause, a heavy silence enveloping him like a shroud.

    Dean and Seamus had made their intentions explicitly clear the previous evening¡ªthey would quit Professor Watson''s taxing course. Once they abandoned the ss, there would be no pathway for regret; this was the upromising announcement Professor Watson had issued on that very first day.

    Ron had refrained from voicing his stance the previous night, but his current actions spoke louder than any words.

    Harry and Ron''s beds were positioned side-by-side, an unspoken testament to their friendship. Ron must have woken up by the sounds of Harry''s morning preparations, yet he nowy utterly motionless, his face obscured by his nket in a futile attempt to feign sleep.

    Even through the mufflingyers of fabric, Harry could sense the palpable aura of guilt emanating from his best friend.

    "They--"

    Neville, who had just emerged from his own bed in a tangle of sheets, obviously realized the implications of the unfolding situation. His gaze flickered uncertainly between the three unmoving beds and Harry, whose expression had grown momentarily dull and inscrutable. Neville opened his mouth, the words seeming to catch in his throat as he struggled to voice the ufortable truth.

    From the day they had first set foot in Hogwarts, Harry and Ron had been inseparable. Belonging to the same house of Gryffindor, sharing the the same dormitory, attending the sses together¡ªthe duration Harry had spent in Ron''spany far exceeded even that of Hermione, who often devoted herself in the dusty stacks of the library forrger chunks of time. Moreover, beginning in their third year, she had selected several additional elective courses beyond those taken by Harry and Ron, significantly diminishing the number of hours they could pass togetherpared to their prior carefree years.

    "Hurry up, Neville¡ª" Harry responded, his voice tinged with worry yet devoid of rebuke as he made no attempt to rouse Ron from his feigned sleep. He himself could not even guarantee his own ability to continue through this course. "Beingte will be treated as giving up by Professor Watson."

    When Harry and Neville finally jogged shoulder-to-shoulder onto the grounds beneath the towering Quidditch goal posts, most of the other remaining students had already gathered in silent groups. The Gryffindors immediately realized the implications of witnessing only Harry and Neville''s solitary arrivals.

    "That idiot!"

    Ginny, having managed to tidy her hair into a neat style, looked like a feisty little lioness, and angrily growled without her usual Harry-induced stuttering, "If it weren''t for Professor Watson, he¡ªwe¡ªwould have died in the Chamber of Secrets!"

    "It''s no big deal, Ginny¡ª" Harry spoke in a casual dismissive tone, attempting to downy the situation. "Professor Watson won''t mind this. Maybe I''ll give up in a couple days too."

    Before he and Neville had arrived, Ginny, Hermione, and that entric Ravenw second-year girl¡ªnow Harry knew her name was Luna Lovegood¡ªhad been engaged in hushed conversation. This odd girl seemed utterly unconcerned withmon norms, dressing herself in a whimsically chaotic manner each day and uttering bizarre, confusing statements that left everyone bewildered.

    Harry thought Hermione would be equally angry as Ginny, but in fact, Hermione looked like she was indeed angry. She tightly pursed her lips, raised her eyebrows, and seemed to be questioning herself. But in the end, Hermione just moved her lips without saying anything, herplexion was gloomy as if she hadn''t slept all night.

    "Your friend made the wrong choice¡ª" Luna spoke in that vague, dreamy ent of hers as she waved her hand through the air in an oddly mesmerizing gesture as she often did. "He shouldn''t give up this interesting ss."

    <em>''Interesting?!''</em>

    To be honest, this judgment is not recognized by anyone else, even by Ginny and Hermione. They also don''t think this ss is interesting. They have just persisted for various personal reasons.

    In the eyes of these young witches and wizards, this was undoubtedly the most mind-numbingly boring course in their entire academic curriculum. At the very least, they could sleep during Professor Binns''s lectures on goblin rebellions to pass the endless hours!

    "Hey, Potter!"

    Draco always seemed to possess an almost supernatural ability to keenly detect any misfortune or negativity befalling upon Harry. From nearly a dozen paces away, he craned his pale, pointed face forward, a malicious sneer twisting his face as he loudly taunted, "Your freckle-faced friend abandoned you, didn''t he? Ha, look at that pathetic expression etched across your face, Scarhead!"

    "Shove off, Malfoy!"

    Before Harry could respond, Hermione and Ginny simultaneously "roared" to everyone''s astonishment!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0348 Siriusâ€™s Views

    0348 Sirius¡¯s Views

    For quite some time now, Bryan had always arrived at the training grounds with unwavering punctuality, precisely two minutes before six o''clock. Today was no different, and as he approached the field, his gaze fell upon the young wizards who had already assembled into orderly lines ording to their respective houses, patiently awaiting his arrival.

    The morning air was crisp, carrying a discernible chill. Yet, mingled with this crispness, Bryan detected a heavy, pungent scent of gunpowder wafting through the air. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over the somber lines of students with a scrutinizing nce. In that moment, he caught a fleeting glimpse of schadenfreude flickering in Draco''s eyes. Instinctively, Bryan''s attention turned toward the back rows of the Gryffindors, where Harry and hispanions were deliberately avoiding his gaze. Upon noticing Ron''s absence from the lines, he began to understand the source of the conflict.

    Truth be told, Bryan felt a twinge of disappointment. Among the young wizards attending Hogwarts, the Weasley children were generally regarded as above average in terms of their innate talent and magical abilities. Even the rtively mediocre Ron possessed skills that were above the baseline, at least on par with his housemate Neville Longbottom''s capabilities. However, what Roncked was Neville''s steadfast perseverance and unwavering determination.

    Still, as the saying goes, everyone has their own path in life, and you cannot force what is not meant to be.

    This was, in fact, a cruel reality. The young wizards standing before him were likely unaware that a single uncaring decision, could ultimately cause those friends as close as siblings to drift apart in the future.

    Take Harry, Hermione, and Ron, for instance. Whether it was Hermione or Harry burdened with the fate of ''savior'' were exceptional children with outstanding personal strengths, while Ron wasparatively ordinary. If no new bonds formed among the three of them, they would almost inevitably grow apart as the years passed, pursuing their own unique destinies.

    Just like Sirius''s group, their friendship was deep and admirable, but ultimately, after their graduation, only Sirius and Harry''s father James, had managed to maintain a close rtionship. The others had settled into their own lives, pursuing different paths that slowly but inevitably led them further and further away from one another, until they became mere acquaintances.

    Had it not been for the tragic incident involving Peter, the betrayal that had torn their brotherhood apart, they might have drifted even further apart, their bonds gradually eroding until nothing remained but faded memories of their shared youth.

    Professor Watson had clearly noticed Ron''s absence, and Harry looked at him worriedly, feeling uneasy in his heart.

    It took Bryan only a few fleeting seconds to ponder these matters. Then, facing the still-youthful faces before him, he shed a nonchnt smile.

    "What are you all waiting for? Let''s begin!"

    At the start of Professor Watson''s early training sessions, not a single student couldplete the rigorous routine smoothly. In fact, even those who managed to persevere halfway through the grueling schedule were a rare few. Most had their staminapletely drained after just a fewps, forced to stumble their way through the remainder.

    However, after half a month of unwavering perseverance, of gritting their teeth and pushing through the pain and fatigue, although their performance was stillcking inparison to the lofty standards set by their professor, they could at least support one another as they walked back to the castle afterpleting the arduous twentyps around the vast expanse of the training grounds.

    Perhaps in an effort to amodate their weary bodies and provide much-needed nourishment after such strenuous exertion, the school had graciously moved up the start time for the morning meal. As they passed through the grand entrance hall, the enticing scent of food already wafted from the Great Hall.

    However, for Harry, the allure of the morning feast held no sway, as his appetite had been thoroughly dampened by the events of the morning. Without pause or hesitation, he ascended the stairs directly, with Hermione following suit, her own hunger seemingly forgotten in the wake of her turbulent emotions.

    Harry stole a nce at Hermione''s frosty expression and tentatively probed, "Erm, Hermione--"

    But his attempt was like poking a ho''s nest. Hermione let out a loud huff, her stern gaze making it difficult for Harry to meet her eyes.

    "Tell Weasley!" Hermione''s voice rang out, loud and clear, causing a few still-slumbering portraits on the walls to grumble in displeasure at the disturbance. "Don''t expect me to forgive him. He can forget about copying my homework from now on!"

    To this, Harry could only respond with a wry smile.

    The scene that greeted them in the dormitory was much the same as when they had left, still gloomy and dim, with the curtains drawn tight against the warm rays of the morning sun. Ron, Seamus, and Dean were still huddled under their covers, having apparently fallen back asleep after waking up briefly earlier.

    In Harry''s eyes, Ron''s decision to give up on Professor Watson''s ss was not worth getting overly worked up over. It was simr to the time when Hermione had been dissatisfied with their choices to drop several seemingly important elective courses ¨C a situation that had caused no small amount of friction between them. The only difference was that Ron should have given them a heads-up.

    It was foreseeable that Hermione and Ron would once again enter a cold war for some time, just like after the incident with Scabbers.

    The only question that lingered in Harry''s mind was: how long would this particr conflictst?

    With no motivation to tidy up, Harry simply flopped onto his bed, the question of how long Hermione and Ron''stest rift would endure ying on his mind like a broken record. Soon, the fatigue that had been weighing heavily upon his body and spirit won out, and he drifted off into deep sleep, his consciousness slipping away from the troubles of the waking world.

    It was not until the zing sun had reached its zenith, its radiant rays bathing the Hogwarts grounds in a warm, golden glow, and the echoes ofughter reverberated throughout the ancient castle, that Harry finally crawled out of bed. By then, he was the only one left in the dormitory, as those who had slept in had already gotten up.

    ncing at the clock on his desk, Harry sprang up with a jolt. After a frantic scramble, he tidied up his unkempt appearance, smoothing out the wrinkles in his robes and ensuring that his unruly mop of hair was at least somewhat presentable. Then, without a moment''s dy, he rushed down the stairs and into the Gryffindormon room, where he found Ron engaged in a familiar sight ¨C a game of wizard''s chess with Seamus.

    The two hurriedly left the room and raced down to the entrance hall, where they spotted Sirius waving to them from the bottom of the castle steps.

    "Let''s talk as we walk--"

    On this particr day off from their studies, Sirius had changed into a casual leather jacket, tying his hair back into a ponytail that made him look like the lead singer of a Muggle band.

    Sirius could tell that both Harry and Ron had something to say. He wrapped his arms around the shoulders of the two youngds, smiling cheerfully.

    "Hermione''s waiting for us in Hogsmeade!"

    Ron''s expression immediately became unnatural, clearly having already run into Hermione while Harry was catching up on sleep.

    Harry wasted no time in voicing the question on his mind. "What do you think, Sirius?"

    Harry''s question was vague, but he was certain Sirius understood, as there was no trace of surprise or bewilderment on his face. Instead of answering right away, Sirius raised an eyebrow and looked at Ron with regret.

    "Undoubtedly, Ron, you made a rash decision,"

    Harry knew, in that moment, that Sirius was trying to spare Ron''s pride. The word that his godfather truly wished to use, was that Ron had made a ''wrong'' decision, not merely a ''rash'' one.

    "That being said!"

    Harry had to takerge strides to keep up with Sirius''s pace as he curiously asked, "Do you think Professor Watson''s Muggle physical education ss has any meaning? But I don''t understand ¨C we''re all wizards, aren''t we? What use is there for a wizard to be able to run a little faster or longer?"

    Harry''s query struck a chord within Ron, whose face immediately brightened. Nodding his head insistently, he eagerly jumped into the conversation,

    "Exactly!" Ron nodded in agreement. "We''re wizards, aren''t we? Quidditch is the sport we should be ying. Seamus and I discussed this ¨C Professor Watson might want to train our physical skills, but he should be teaching us some impressive magic instead, like how he took down Greyback''s pack of werewolves, or defensive magic spells against dark creatures like in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

    As they passed through the gates that marked the boundaries of Hogwarts, guarded by the ever-vignt caretaker, Filch, their progress was momentarily impeded by the need to navigate the narrow passage. It was not until they had stepped onto the tree-lined path leading to Hogsmeade, that Sirius spoke again.

    "I haven''t known Bryan as long as you two have, Harry and Ron, but I think, I understand him a bit better than you do. First of all, I want to tell you that he is definitely not a wizard who would waste time on meaningless endeavors--"

    Sirius stated this with an air of certainty, his conviction evident in the firmness of his words and the steady gaze that met theirs. "And in my over thirty years of life, I''ve encountered many formidable wizards, but none of them could hold a candle to Dumbledore or Voldemort--"

    Here, Sirius paused, his expression growing pensive as he turned his gaze towards Harry and Ron, ensuring that they were truly listening,

    "At one point, I thought this world might never see anyone on par with Dumbledore and Voldemort again. Voldemort may have been evil, but his power was undeniable. However, after witnessing Bryan''s prowess firsthand, I am convinced that his abilities are on the same level as those two."

    "So, do you understand what I mean?" Sirius continued, his voice taking on a tone of gentle insistence, as if urging them to truly grasp the significance of his words. "A wise and powerful wizard like him has a perspective far beyond that of an ordinary witch or wizard. Perhaps only Dumbledore could see through his actions, while we cannot. But one thing is certain ¨C Bryan is definitely not depleting your energy for no reason."

    Sirius didn''t tell Harry and Ron why Professor Watson had set such a dull Muggle Physical Education course, but his view was clear - to encourage Harry to persevere. As for Ron, he had already lost his eligibility, so there was no point in talking about persisting.

    Ron seemed a bit displeased, obviously hoping to get some evidence from Sirius to prove that his giving up was wise, but the result was quite the opposite.

    The atmosphere became somewhat heavy for a while until Sirius mentioned to them about the uing Quidditch World Cup that summer, which cheered Ron up.

    "You can''t imagine the grandeur of the World Cup, Harry--" Ron said excitedly.

    "Tickets are hard toe by, but Dad usually gets some. How about it, Harry? Come stay with us early so we can go and watch it together."

    Harry was, of course, familiar with the Quidditch World Cup, having read descriptions of it in many Quidditch-rted materials. However, he was unaware that this year''s World Cup would be held in Ennd. The unpleasant topic rted to Professor Watson was immediately set aside as Harry excitedly looked towards Sirius, whose smiling response made Harry''s hair stand on end with excitement.

    "My n is, after the summer holiday begins, I''ll go and talk to your aunt and uncle first. We''ll get your luggage out of those Muggles''s house and take it to No.12 Grimmauld ce, the ck Manor. You can live there with me from now on, that is, if you''re willing."

    "You have your own house!" Harry said excitedly. "Do you mean I can leave the Dursleys and live with you?"

    "Well," Sirius had apparently misunderstood Harry''s meaning, his expression bing unnatural, "Of course, you''ve lived with Muggles for twelve years, so perhaps you''re more used to that."

    "Are you mental?" Harry immediately interrupted Sirius, his voice hoarse. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys. If Professor McGonagall allows it, can I take a couple of days off now to go back to the Dursleys and move my stuff?"

    "Oh!" A smile bloomed on Sirius''s face again.

    "No need to be in such a hurry. I need to discuss this n with Bryan first. Cough-Ahem, due to certain circumstances, he now owns that house, though I do have the right to use it, and Bryan certainly wouldn''t mind you moving in. Ahem-Alright, let''s get back to the previous topic¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0349 Summer Vacation

    0349 Summer Vacation

    "My n is, after the summer holiday begins, I''ll go and talk to your aunt and uncle first. We''ll get your luggage out of those Muggles'' house and take it to No.12 Grimmauld ce, the ck Manor. You can live there with me from now on, that is, if you''re willing."

    "You have your own house!" Harry said excitedly. "Do you mean I can leave the Dursleys and live with you?"

    "Well," Sirius had apparently misunderstood Harry''s meaning, his expression bing unnatural, "Of course, you''ve lived with Muggles for twelve years, so perhaps you''re more used to that."

    "Are you mental?" Harry immediately interrupted Sirius, his voice hoarse. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys. If Professor McGonagall allows it, can I take a couple of days off now to go back to the Dursleys'' and move my stuff?"

    "Oh!" A smile bloomed on Sirius''s face again.

    "No need to be in such a hurry. I need to discuss this n with Bryan first. Cough-Ahem, due to certain circumstances, he now owns that house, though I do have the right to use it, and Bryan certainly wouldn''t mind you moving in. Alright, let''s get back to the previous topic¡ª"

    Sirius pursed his lips as he tried to change the topic.

    "After getting you out of those Muggles''s house, hmm, I think Ron''s suggestion is not bad - you can stay with him for a while first--"

    Harry certainly wouldn''t mind staying at the Burrow. Ron''s parents, the Weasleys, had always been very friendly towards him, almost treating him like another son. However, he was curious as to why, if Sirius was taking him out, he would still send him to the Burrow.

    "--I previously promised Bryan that I would go with him to handle some business. It will probably take two to three weeks. After that, I''ll pick you up from the Burrow, and we''ll go watch the World Cup together."

    For Harry, this felt like a dream. His wish for over ten years - to leave the Dursleys - would finally be fulfilled this summer vacation. He had never yearned for the arrival of summer vacation like this before.

    And Sirius''s ns weren''t finished yet.

    "For the time after that..." As they crossed the signpost for Hogsmeade vige, Sirius hesitated for a moment. "After the World Cup ends...it depends, Harry. We can''t tell how long this Quidditch World Cup between Bulgaria and Irnd willst."

    Harry didn''t quite understand. He himself was the Seeker for Gryffindor and had yed many matches at Hogwarts, but the longest match had never exceeded half a day.

    "Thest one between Luxembourg and Ugandasted five days," Ron exined to Harry. "The longest record in history is one month!"

    "Wow!" Harry''s green eyes shone with excitement as he eximed, "I really hope this onests that long too!"

    "A month-long match would be an absolute nightmare for the Ministry of Magic," Sirius chuckled, ncing at the overly excited Harry, who in that moment reminded him vividly of James - the two of them discussing Quidditch with such enthusiasm were practically identical.

    "--After that," Sirius''s voice softened a bit, "if time permits, I hope you can go with me to Godric''s Hollow. You''ve been living with those Muggles all along, so I assume you haven''t been there?"

    <em>''Godric''s Hollow?''</em>

    The smile immediately froze on Harry''s face, his heart feeling like it had been hit hard by a rogue Bludger.

    Godric''s Hollow was where he was born and where his parents had been killed. Having been in the wizarding world for so many years, Harry certainly knew this fact. But strangely enough, the thought of going back to Godric''s Hollow had never crossed his mind before, as if he was instinctively avoiding it.

    But after Sirius mentioned that ce, a sudden longing surged within Harry, a longing so strong that it even surpassed his desire to leave the Dursleys and watch the Quidditch World Cup.

    "Sirius, could we..."

    "Oh, we''re here--"

    Before Harry could finish his stammering words, Sirius suddenly said in a slightly emotional tone, "The Three Broomsticks Inn, it''s been so many years since Ist came here!"

    The Three Broomsticks Inn was one of the most popr hangouts for young wizards in the vige of Hogsmeade.

    The innkeeper is Madam Rosmerta who is over thirty but still graceful, and many young wizards who frequented the ce wouldn''t mind casting an extra nce or two at the beautifulndy, including Ron.

    Today, the Three Broomsticks was as crowded, noisy, and smoky as usual. Madam Rosmerta was so busy that she didn''t even notice Sirius ck''s ''arrival''.

    Ron''s expression reverted to its earlier unease because he immediately spotted Hermione and Ginny sitting in the same spot where they had eavesdropped on the Minister of Magic''s conversationst time.

    The two girls by the window had solemn looks but seemed to be craning their necks curiously. Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled nces, unsure of what they were doing. It wasn''t until the three of them approached that spot that they noticed Professor Watson conversing with Percy and Percy''s girlfriend, the Ravenw prefect Penelope Clearwater, behind a rack full of bottles.

    "You''re eavesdropping on Bryan?" Siriusughed.

    "Shh!" Hermione immediately put a finger to her lips, and when she noticed who was speaking, her face immediately turned red with embarrassment. "Oh, sorry, Professor ck. We weren''t -- uhm, I mean, well, Professor Watson hasn''t noticed us yet--"

    "We''re not in ss now, Hermione. Just call me Sirius."

    The three of them found chairs to sit down by themselves. Hermione didn''t have a very friendly expression towards Harry and Ron, but at least it wasn''t as cold as earlier, perhaps because something else had caught her attention.

    "So, what did you all hear?"

    For a wizard like Bryan to have his conversation eavesdropped on by two underage witches, he must not have minded the content being overheard.

    Harry had interacted with Percy a lot but hadn''t really been acquainted with his girlfriend. The Weasley siblings always liked to make fun of Percy''s girlfriend, so Percy wasn''t too keen on having this soon-to-graduate Ravenw girlfriend get too close to them.

    "What''s wrong with her nose?"

    To be honest, in Harry''s eyes, Percy''s girlfriend was quite good-looking, not as unpleasant as Fred and George sometimes teased. Her hairstyle was simr to Cho Chang''s friend, except for their different hair colors.

    In the crowded inn, Penelope appeared gloomy, her head lowered as she tried to let her disheveled hair cover the side of her face, but Harry still noticed a white bandage on Penelope''s nose through the gaps in her hair.

    "I told you--" Ginny shrugged nonchntly. "She fell asleep in Snape''s ss and got her nose sshed with a potion -- Percy was heartbroken for days. Fred said it was actually good, as it could cover up the freckles on her nose."

    "Ha-Ha-Ha----"

    The loudughter erupting from Ron''s mouth was only muffled by his hands mped firmly over his lips, as the menacing res shot his way by Ginny and Hermione instantly turned his gleeful expression sheepish. He had been branded a ''traitor'' for being the first among them to abandon Professor Watson''s ss.

    "So--" Bryan began, taking a deliberate sip from his vibrant violet-hued water ss, his demeanor calm.

    "You asked me out today in hopes that I could write you a letter of rmendation to intern at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement?"

    Percy was nearing graduation and going to be an adult wizard. In terms of height, he was nearly as tall as Professor Watson. However, his features still held a hint of youthful naivety.

    Percy was currently Hogwarts''s most outstanding young wizard. He was the Head Boy handpicked by Dumbledore, and nearly every professor who had taught him sang his praises. Bryan too did not dislike such a brilliant and diligent young wizard, especially one with such strong ambition.

    It was not umon for Professors to write rmendation letters for young wizards. When he himself had graduated, Professor Snape had implicitly expressed that if he wished to work at the Ministry, despite Snape''s ownck of deep connections there, he could ask someone to rmend him.

    This cryptic suggestion had puzzled Bryan for quite some time, as the notion of Professor Snape engaging in such meddlesome behavior seemed wholly opposing to his usual discreet nature. Now, however, Bryan suspected that this hint may havee from Dumbledore himself, perhaps in a calcted bid to keep him within the sphere of his vignt gaze, to prevent him from going astray.

    "Yes, Professor Watson--" Percy nodded respectfully, his eyes reflecting reverence as they met Bryan''s nk gaze.

    "Perhaps you already know that I n to work at the Ministry after graduating. However, I''m unfamiliar with the situation there. Some time ago, I wrote to my father to ask which department would be most suitable for personal growth. He told me the two most prestigious departments are the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He also mentioned that you have a good rtionship with Madam Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement¡ªI mean, you''re friends. If you were to rmend me, I''m sure madam Bones would not refuse."

    Amelia certainly would not casually dismiss the rmendation from him. However, that depended on who the rmendation was for.

    Percy, was a descendant of the Weasley family and quite talented himself. With Bryan''s rmendation, even Fudge would have to extend this courtesy. However..

    As Bryan''s prating gaze discerned a burning, almost voracious desire for power zing in Percy''s eyes. This overly noticeable sense of self-centeredness caused Bryan to frown inwardly.

    Ambition, when tempered with wisdom and self-restraint, could prove a potent catalyst for growth. However, ambition unchecked, fueled by an excess of youthful vigor yetcking in prudence, could just as easily lead one irreversibly astray.

    After a moment''s contemtion, Bryan slowly shook his head.

    "I''m sorry, Percy, but I''m afraid I cannot grant your request."

    In the noisy Inn, Professor Watson''s light words struck Percy like a thunderbolt, leaving him frozen in shock. Not just him, but Penelope Clearwater at his side, who had been trying to hide her thoughts, as well as Hermione and others eavesdropping from a few seats away, all looked stunned.

    "But¡ªbut¡ª"

    After a long pause, Percy finally came to his senses, his face flushed red as if he had been insulted. He demanded indignantly,

    "Why, Watson? Do you think I¡ªI am not good enough?!"

    "Quite the contrary, Percy--" Professor Watson said calmly. Instead of exining right away, he asked,

    "The N.E.W.T.s are approaching, Percy. I heard from Professor McGonagall that you are currently taking twelve subjects includingpulsory and elective courses. Impressive indeed. How many N.E.W.T.s do you expect to obtain?"

    "Twelve!" Percy thrust out his chest, brimming with undisguised pride. "And if nothing unexpected happens, I''ll score Outstandings in all twelve."

    Bryan''s lips curved into a faint smile as he gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.

    "With twelve N.E.W.T. certificates in your academic record, gaining entry to the Ministry is a mere formality. No department would refuse you, Percy."

    Bryan adjusted his posture, leaning forward in an imposing manner.

    "If that is the case, why are you still fixated on my letter of rmendation? You could achieve your goals through your own merits. But if you were to use my rmendation, you would instead face criticism, even targeting. You should know that I do have enemies at the Ministry¡ªthis would be detrimental to your future development there. In other words, it would limit your unlimited possibilities."

    Percy''s mouth fell open, a clear indication that this particr angle had never crossed his mind.

    "With your brilliance, you should not have overlooked this--"Bryan tapped his finger on the table, his words sharp.

    "However, the insidious mes of greed burning within your heart have clouded your judgment, leading you to make the wrong decision. Furthermore--"

    Bryan''s prating gaze shifted to settle upon the silently listening Penelope Clearwater.

    "How about you, Penelope? Professor Flitwick mentioned a few Ravenws aspiring to join the Ministry, but your name did not seem to be among them. As the Ravenw prefect; logically, you should have the ability as well--"

    "Oh, I''m sorry, Professor¡ª" Penelope did not expect Professor Watson to suddenly turn the topic to her. She looked surprised at first, then her expression darkened again.

    "I might¡ªum, I don''t n to work at the Ministry--"

    "Why?!"

    This outburst filled with shock and anger did note from Bryan, but from Percy. He stared at his girlfriend of two years in disbelief, having always assumed Penelope would apany him to the Ministry.

    Penelope hung her head deeply, but the locks of hair falling over her face could not conceal her sorrowful expression or the tears wetting her robes.

    Bryan tapped the table again, reminding Percy to watch his tone.

    "Although I am not the Head of Ravenw, Penelope, since we are discussing this topic, please share your ns with us."

    "My mother is a Muggle, and my father is a half-blood wizard, Professor--"

    After a long pause, Penelope finally regained control of her emotions, but her voice still carried a hint of sobbing.

    "When my father attended Hogwarts, the wizarding world was not weing to those of mixed blood heritage. So, he harbors resentment and prejudice against the Ministry and the wizarding world. He believes I would not have a good prospect at the Ministry, so he does not wish for me to remain in the wizarding world after graduating. My grandfather and mother also hope that after leaving Hogwarts, I can return to Gloucestershire to help manage the family farm."

    A heavy atmosphere emanated from their location, the surrounding chatter seeming to quiet down. Now, not just Harry and his friends, but many other young wizards were eavesdropping on their conversation as well.

    Matters of personal privacy were involved, so Bryan waved his hand to cast a silencing charm around their discussion. His gaze then fell upon Percy.

    After hearing Penelope''s situation, Percy''s angry re did not subside but intensified instead, distorting his handsome features.

    "But until today, you never told me any of this!"

    "I thought you would feel ashamed, Percy--" Bryan''s gaze grew prating, and this intense, loaded stare finally caused Percy to regain some self-control, no longer appearing so overbearing.

    "--As I understand it, Penelope is your girlfriend, is she not? And you two have been dating for quite some time. So why, pray tell, were youpletely unaware of Penelope''s family situation? Did Penelope hide the truth from you, or have you been so focused on nning your own future that youpletely forgot to care about Penelope''s thoughts?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0350 Future Plans

    0350 Future ns

    Percy''s face was pale, rendered speechless for a moment, while Penelope hung her head low, hot tears welling in her eyes.

    Seeing them in this state, Bryan too lost the desire to speak.

    Hatred can be inherited. Penelope came from a mixed-blood wizard family. Her father had personally experienced the dangerous situation muggle-borns and half-blood wizards faced in the wizarding world during the years Voldemort was active. As a father, he wanted nothing more than for his daughter to live in a society that was rtively stable and safe, and there was nothing wrong with that.

    As for Percy, he was from the Weasley Family, one of the twenty-eight Sacred Pure-Blood family.

    Though in Lucius Malfoy''s eyes, the Weasleys were ''blood-traitors'' and a disgrace to pure-blood wizard families - in fact,st year to cause trouble for Arthur, he had even slipped one of Voldemort''s horcruxes into Ginny''s book bag ¨C But this attention also signified importance. There were plenty of ordinary wizard families in the Wizarding world, but Lucius wouldn''t go out of his way to trouble each one.

    Wealth only represented one aspect of a pure-blood family''s strength; intricate connections were far more crucial. With Percy''s lineage, coupled with his own excellence, one could foresee his future development at the Ministry would be bright, so long as nothing went awry.

    At school, this ss division stemming from one''s origins was greatly diminished, but when venturing into wizarding society, the cruel reality pped one in the face.

    Just like some time ago when Bryan himself had risen to fame, there were indeed some busybodies proiming that with Bryan Watson''s exceptional prowess, he may even be Minister for Magic someday. But Bryan had onlyughed it off as a joke.

    Under the existing structure of wizarding society, he could never enter that circle, at best, he could only exert influence from the periphery..

    Cornelius Fudge, Amelia Bones, Barty Crouch, and the key leaders of other important departments - their surnames had shone brightly in Wizarding world for hundreds, even thousands of years.

    "Penelope..."

    Percy''s lips moved, as if to say something.

    The silent, tearful young witch suddenly stood up and, under the astonished gazes of Harry and the others, covered her face and ran out of the Three Broomsticks.

    Watching her figure swiftly disappear, Percy''s face was ghastly pale, at a loss for what to do.

    It wasn''t that two people with differing goals could not be together. The real issue was what Professor Watson''s words had just revealed - what was truly most important in his heart? Power? Personal future development? Or love?

    Percy had long harbored resentment towards his father. He clearly had the ability to provide their family with a better life, needing only to change some of his stubborn, and ridiculous notions. Yet he had never done so, resigning himself to a mediocre life instead.

    Now, Percy understood a little better.

    He could feel the weight of many judgmental gazes upon him, each gaze seemingly mixed with me.But he had done nothing wrong, had he? He only hoped to be more excellent, to ensure a morefortable life for his future family.

    Percy too left then, his departing dejected figure as if he was under the Imperius Curse.

    Bryan shook his head lightly. He wanted to remind Percy not to forget those always by his side in pursuit of his goals, lest he end up with lifelong regrets. But by the looks of it, Percy seemed to have been into deeper thoughts.

    "Ah, a family gathering!"

    Bryan stood up and approached Harry''s table, patting Harry on the shoulder and smiling at Sirius, "This kind of leisurely life feels pretty good, doesn''t it?"

    "Indeed..." Sirius raised his ss to Bryan in a toast. "It''s all thanks to you, Bryan."

    "Professor Watson..." Ginny stood hesitantly and called out. "Percy, he..."

    Not just Ginny and Ron, even Harry and Hermione had worried looks. They normally got along decently with Percy, but the way Percy looked when he left was worrying.

    Bryan had blocked out their conversation at the end, so these young ones did not know what had happened.

    "Did they...break up?" Ginny asked sadly. Though the Weasley siblings frequently teased Percy about his girlfriend, seeing him so heartbroken, they could not help but worry too. Ron had even momentarily forgotten his embarrassment upon encountering Professor Watson, and looked at him expectantly.

    "No, not quite..."

    Bryan gently shook his head.

    "Percy and Penelope, well...they seem to have some disagreement regarding their ns for the future. I suggest you all do not interfere too much in this matter; leave the choice to the parties involved."

    <em>''ns for the future?''</em>

    The youngsters blinked in confusion, not understanding what Professor Watson meant. But Sirius immediately nodded in understanding, his eyes reflecting memories and emotions. After all, as an adult wizard who had lived through his youthful days, he knew what that meant.

    "Well then..."

    Looking at the silent crowd, Bryan yfully winked at the youngsters, "I won''t disturb you all from enjoying a pleasant weekend here. I suppose I haven''t been very popr these days."

    Harry and Hermione immediately smiled sheepishly, while Ron ducked his head guiltily.

    "Have a drink with us, Bryan," Sirius smiled. "They would love more of your guidance. In fact, I wanted to discuss something with you."

    Meeting Bryan''s inquisitive look, Sirius nced at Harry with an affectionate smile.

    "You see, I n to take Harry away from his aunt and uncle''s during the summer holidays. I''ve consulted Harry himself already, but err...I need your permission too, don''t I? I don''t have a spare ce to house Harry and myself."

    <em>''Take Harry away from the Dursleys?''</em>

    Bryan looked at Harry, who was struggling to conceal his excitement, his brows furrowing slightly.

    "Have you consulted Dumbledore about this?"

    "What does it have to do with Dumbledore?" Sirius scoffed dismissively. "James and Lily entrusted Harry to me - I''m his godfather. It''s my right, isn''t it? Since Harry has no objections, Dumbledore has no business interfering."

    In this crowded public ce, Bryan could not exin much. He pondered briefly for a moment and said.

    "You should ask Dumbledore, Sirius. He may have some advice for you."

    Professor Watson''s insistence caused a creeping sense of dread in the hopeful Harry. He suspected this matter of leaving the Dursleys might fall through. But then he thought - why would Dumbledore stop him from leaving the Dursleys? They didn''t even know each other well. And as Sirius said, the Headmaster of Hogwarts had no authority over where he lived, did he?

    "Alright, let''s leave it at that for now. I still need to stop by Zonko''s Joke Shop to prepare some teaching aids. If they don''t have enough stock, I may need to make a trip to Diagon Alley too!"

    With those words, Professor Watson promptly took his leave, leaving the dumbfounded group sitting there looking at each other.

    "Prepare teaching aids?" Harry opened and closed his mouth, puzzled. "At Zonko''s Joke Shop?"

    For the rest of the time, Professor Watson''sst words became the focus of their discussion. Even Sirius couldn''t think of what kind of teaching supplies one could find at a joke shop. However, they had nned to visit the shop that afternoon to buy some Dungbombs for protection.

    But when the rowdy group arrived at Zonko''s Joke Shop and pushed open the door, they were stunned to see Fred and George inside, stamping their feet and ''howling'' in distress.

    "What''s going on?" Sirius was the first to recover, rushing over to grab the twins. "What happened?!"

    "Professor Watson!" George cried out indignantly. "He bought all the Dungbombs in the shop!"

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong><<<<WEEKS LATER>>>></strong>

    <strong>...</strong>

    Once the Easter break was over, bidding farewell to the joyous festivities and leisurely days, the atmosphere at Hogwarts School suddenly became much tenser and charged with palpable anxiety. The reason for this shift was the impending O.W.L.S (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) and N.E.W.T.S (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests) examinations, which loomed ominously on the horizon, mere two months away. These pivotal exams held the power torgely determine the fate and future prospects of most aspiring young wizards.

    Harry had already spent nearly three years at Hogwarts, but in his first and second years, he didn''t feel this tense atmosphere too strongly. However, this year was different as Ron''s three brothers, Fred, George, and Percy, were all facing these two crucial exams. To a certain extent, Harry could also sense this anxious ambiance.

    Sirius had been under a lot of pressure recently too, as the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss was also an important subject of these exams. Apart from the half-year when Professors Lupin and Professors Watson covered the ss, the teaching standards for this subject at Hogwarts had been notoriously poor, gued by a session of ipetent teachers.

    Sirius, however, was not one to simply coast by and collect a paycheck, merely going through the motions without genuine investment or dedication. Although he had initially taken up this teaching position primarily to help the Dumbledore. he clearly wouldn''t let thebel of ipetence fall upon himself.

    Especially during mealtimes at the staff table in the Great Hall, there was always an unfriendly colleague who would make pointed remarks, cloaked in seeming nonchnce, expressing concerns and doubts about the potential exam results of a particr ss this year. These veiled barbs and thinly-veiled jabs infuriated Sirius immensely, stirring a simmering rage within him.

    Consequently, he poured a tremendous amount of effort and time into meticulously preparingprehensive materials and detailed lesson ns, all with the singr goal of helping the fifth and seventh-year students achieve sess in the uing exams. This unwavering dedication andser-focused determination were the reasons why Harry and his friends could hardly find opportunities to have private conversations with Siriustely, as the new professor''s every waking moment seemed consumed by his educational responsibilities.

    Ultimately, Percy and Penelope broke up, ording to the information from Ginny. She told them that once, after taking Professor McGonagall''s Transfiguration ss and heading to the Great Hall, she saw Percy and Penelope brushing past each other in the corridor. Both looked pale, avoiding each other''s gaze without even a greeting.

    Moreover, Percy stopped attending Professor Watson''s physical education ss after that day.

    This incident made Hermione very angry. One evening, after they finished observing theary orbits and descended from Hogwarts''s tallest tower, the Astronomy Tower, Hermione fumed, "Percy¡ªI can''t believe it, was he just using Professor Watson? Dropping the ss simply because he didn''t get Professor Watson''s rmendation letter?"

    "He''s been under a lot of pressuretely ¨C"

    Ron mustered the rare courage to meet Hermione''s furious gaze, attempting to pacify her anger with a measured response.

    "Since Professor Watson refused to write him a rmendation, whether he can get into the Ministry now depends entirely on himself. This has been his goal all along; Percy has been nning for this almost since he first entered Hogwarts,"

    "But that doesn''t mean he can ¨C" Hermione''s words trailed off, as she had been ready to unleash a torrent of criticism upon Percy''s actions, but Ron''s remarks made her swallow the words on the tip of her tongue.

    "¨C and besides, he just recently suffered an emotional setback. I mean, he''s running low on energy, and from what I can see, Professor Watson''s physical education ss is mostly useful for burning off our excess energy,"

    Harry felt a sudden urge to remind Ron that his use of the pronoun "our" was not entirely urate, considering that Ron himself had already quit Professor Watson''s physical education ss two weeks ago.

    "Two weeks!" Harry''s exmation reverberated through the corridor, nearly causing poor Neville, who had been walking ahead of them, to tumble down the stairs in a clumsy disy of imbnce.

    "What?" Neville steadied himself against the cool stone wall, rubbing his sprained ankle with a bewildered expression etched upon his features, his eyes darting between Harry, Hermione, and Ron, seeking an exnation for Harry''s outburst.

    Harry nced at Hermione and Ron, realizing they were also looking at him curiously.

    "Don''t you remember!" Harry hastened to exin. "It''s been another two weeks. I mean, it''s been a month since Professor Watson''s physical education ss started. He said at the beginning of this ss that the first phase wouldst a month, and then there would be some changes!"

    "Which means¡ª" A flush of delight spread across Hermione''s rosy cheeks, betraying her true thoughts. "We don''t have to¡ª"

    Hermione''s words trailed off because she noticed Ron grinning at her.

    "I think it would be quite good to stick with it," Neville said thoughtfully as he stopped before the Fat Lady''s portrait, turning to look at them.

    "No one''s stopping you from continuing, Neville," Ron said, pursing his lips. "Come on, move aside. I reckon you''ve forgotten the password again."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0351 The Second Phase

    0351 The Second Phase

    "Don''t you remember!" Harry hastened to exin. "It''s been another two weeks. I mean, it''s been a month since Professor Watson''s physical education ss started. He said at the beginning of this ss that the first phase wouldst a month, and then there would be some changes!"

    "Which means¡ª" A flush of delight spread across Hermione''s rosy cheeks, betraying her true thoughts. "We don''t have to¡ª"

    Hermione''s words trailed off because she noticed Ron grinning at her.

    "I think it would be quite good to stick with it," Neville said thoughtfully as he stopped before the Fat Lady''s portrait, turning to look at them.

    "No one''s stopping you from continuing, Neville," Ron said, pursing his lips. "Come on, move aside. I reckon you''ve forgotten the password again."

    Neville was right, though. Over the past few days, even Harry had begun to feel that Professor Watson''s ss wasn''t entirely pointless.

    After getting through the initial adjustment period, he could clearly sense an improvement in his energy levels and overall vitality. Now, he no longer felt drowsy as easily, able to resist the urge to doze off even during Snape''s Potions ss or Professor Binns''s ghostly lectures.

    As Harry closed his eyes that night, his mind eagerly anticipated the arrival of the new day, despite no longer harboring any resistance or fear toward Professor Watson''s Muggle physical education ss. Nevertheless, a sense of curiosity and excitement coursed through his veins, fueled by the prospect of the promised changes to the P.E ss.

    Word had spread¡ªcourtesy of an unknown source¡ªabout Professor Watson previously purchasing Dungbombs from Zonko''s Joke Shop as teaching aids. The following day, the number of young wizards persisting with this ss suddenly dropped by one-fifth. Now, half a monthter, the original group of around a hundred had dwindled to just over a third of its initial size.

    As April arrived, the gentle breeze wafting across the grounds had shed its early morning chill, caressing Harry''s hair with a refreshing coolness as it met his face.

    Harry squinted at the slightly green dawn, silently adjusting his breathing¡ªa technique he had figured out recently. Proper breathing rhythm could alleviate fatigue during prolonged exercise.

    "Let''s begin ¨C"

    Professor Watson arrived at the training grounds, punctual as always. He seemed unaware that a month had passed, donning one of his usual sports-outfits(<em>tracksuit</em>) as he calmly instructed them.

    Harry couldn''t hide his disappointment, ncing around to find the other young wizards wearing simr expressions.

    "Professor Watson¡ª" Hermione wasn''t one to keep her thoughts to herself, furrowing her brow as she raised her hand.

    "You see, Professor, if I''m not mistaken ¨C" Hermione paused, drawing in a steadying breath as her bright, inquisitive eyes fixed upon the professor''s face. "You mentioned that our phase-based exercises wouldst a month, after which our ss would undergo some changes?"

    "Thank you for the reminder, Miss Granger," Professor Watson gave a slight nod. "Yes, that''s the n. Our physical education ss is about to enter the next phase. This morning will be your final early-morning run."

    Surveying the excited murmurs among the young wizards, Bryan gave a faint smile, deciding not to spoil their good mood for the moment.

    "Starting today, we''ll move into the second phase of the curriculum, with sses scheduled every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evening from 8 to 9 p.m. in the Maze ssroom."

    The Maze ssroom was the same room where, during Harry''s second year, Professor Watson had them face off against Inferi. Last term, the engaging "Boat Race"petition had also taken ce in that seldom-used ssroom.

    Upon hearing that their uing lessons would be held there, the young wizards could scarcely contain their swelling excitement. After persevering through the grueling initial phase, it seemed that Professor Watson was finally prepared to unveil a more engaging and interesting side of his ss.

    By the time the lunch hour had drawn to a close, news of Professor Watson''s physical education ss potentially taking a more intriguing turn had already permeated every nook and cranny of the ancient castle, piquing the curiosity of countless young wizards. However, those who had previously been eligible to participate but had dropped out didn''t seem too pleased about missing out.

    After dinner, Harry and others hurriedlypleted their History of Magic essays within an hour. Then, under Ron''s sullen gaze, they hastily left themon room and rushed toward Professor Watson''s exclusive ssroom.

    <strong>Whoosh¡ª</strong>

    As the clock struck the eighth hour of the evening with a resounding chime, the assembled group of young wizards, who had already gathered in the corridor outside, eagerly surged forward, pushing open the ssroom door and streaming inside with an air of unbridled anticipation. Once thest student had squeezed through, the newly installed torches that lined the walls of the ssroom ¨C which had been magically expanded to a quarter of a mile in length ¨C suddenly flickered to life with a whoosh, bathing the space in a warm, flickering glow. In the sudden illumination, the objects that had been strategically ced along three of the walls emitted a series of distinct clicking sounds, as though awakening from a deep slumber.

    "Those are ¨C" Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, opened her mouth in awe, her eyes widening as she gazed upon the polished, glistening metallic surfaces reflecting the flickering mes.

    "The armors from the corridor!" Neville eximed in horror.

    The spacious ssroom, illuminated by the flickering golden radiance of torches mounted upon the stone walls, exuded an aura of enigmatic allure and intrigue. This mystical ambiance was further amplified by the imposing suits of armor strategically positioned at precisely measured intervals of ten feet, their metallic forms emitting faint, ominous nks that reverberated through the chamber.

    Neville''s shrill cry,ced with unrestrained fear, echoed resonantly, its piercing resonance reverberating off the ssroom''s walls. The young wizards, their faces etched with nervousness, instinctively huddled together in the center of the room, maintaining a wary distance from the suits of armor that seemed ordinary on any other day but ominous in this setting.

    Cho Chang, one of the few remaining Ravenw students who had not abandoned Professor Watson''s physical education ss, found herself seeking support in the crowd. Her inseparable best friend had already quit, and now, with lips drained of color, Cho unconsciously scanned the assembly for a familiar face to anchor her wavering resolve. Her gaze settled upon Harry, but the presence of Hermione by his side dissuaded her from approaching him.

    "Is Professor Watson preparing us to battle these suits of armor?"

    The Hufflepuffs had the most students remaining. Theycked the courage of Gryffindors, the wisdom of Ravenws, and the ambition and thirst for power of Slytherins, but at least most of them possessed the equally rare virtue of perseverance.

    Cedric lowered his voice, tinged with fear, but Cho seemed to find her anchor. Her clear eyes, shone with worry. "But how are we supposed to face these suits of armor? I¡ªI left my wand in the dormitory."

    "Don''t worry¡ª" Despite his ashenplexion betraying his own anxiety, Cedric exuded an air of gentlemanlyposure, offering Cho a reassuring smile before casting a wary nce towards the ominous suits of armor, their metallic forms seemingly poised to spring into motion at any moment. "These things don''t seem too fast. Hmm, did Professor Watson train us in running so we could sessfully evade the pursuit of these suits of armor?"

    Fred and George overheard Cedric''s remarks and scoffed at himst term, Cedric''s Quidditch team had defeated Gryffindor once, and the Weasley twins still harbored a grudge over it to this day.

    "Doesn''t feel too good, does it, brother?" Fred said, his brow furrowed. "I remember we locked Filch''s cat inside a suit of armor three times. Could it be our turn today?"

    "Actually, it was four times, brother," George corrected with a nonchnt shrug. "Last year, Filch went after you, so he sent that malnourished cat after me. Tsk tsk, I almost couldn''t get away. Luckily, Peeves helped me out."

    <strong>Creak!</strong>

    The ssroom door suddenly swung open, its hinges protesting with a piercing groan, as Professor Watson strode in under everyone''s gaze, still wearing his sports attire instead of a wizard''s robe.

    "Roll call now,"

    Hermione didn''t know if it was her imagination, but she felt Professor Watson was acting differently than usual. While she found herself unable to pinpoint the exact nature of this change, an inexplicable sense of heightened strictness and severity permeated his manner.

    Four distinct groups formed naturally. The Hufflepuffs had the longest line, while Ravenw, including Cho Chang, had only four students: Cho, Roger Davies, Luna, and one of the Patil twins.

    The numbers of Gryffindors and Slytherins remaining were roughly equivalent, with the Gryffindorprised primarily of Harry''s closest friends¡ªHermione, Ginny Weasley, the ever-mischievous Fred and George, the timid Neville Longbottom, Parvati Patil, and two young witches from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

    Unsurprisingly, Draco Malfoy''s distinctive tinum-blond hair style was visible amidst the Slytherin group. Aside from the hulking, gori-sized Marcus Flint, the majority of the remaining Slytherins were Malfoy''s year-mates. Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy''s ever-present cronies, had already abandoned the ss, and Harry couldn''t help but ponder whether their absence might be a contributing factor to Malfoy''s uncharacteristic restraint in provoking him during Professor Watson''s ss; after all, Slytherins seem to possess an innate talent for sizing up a situation and acting ordingly.

    "First, I want to congratte you all¡ª" Professor Watson sped his hands behind his back, his prating gaze sweeping over the assembled students.

    "The past month has been both training and a test for you. Those of you standing before me now have passed the training and the test, meaning you possess certain qualities worth cultivating¡ª"

    No one whispered; everyone listened intently to Professor Watson''s words.

    "¡ªSo, from now on, you will undergo more professional training. Of course, I need to make one thing clear: starting from this moment, you will be deprived of the right to quit. Everyone must persevere until the final stage until this training is over. Additionally, the entire cycle will likelyst about a year."

    "But Professor Watson¡ª" Considering the harshness of the past month''s training and the ominous presence of the suits of armor within this room, Hermione asked thoughtfully, "What kind of improvement do you hope for us to achieve?"

    "I''m sure you''ve been troubled by this question for a long time, haven''t you?" Professor Watson finally showed a slight smile on his face, raising his head to listen to the young wizards''s murmuring discussion. He nodded, pacing before them with his hands sped firmly behind his back.

    "All this time, Hogwarts hascked a systematic course teaching young wizards how to fight¡ª"

    Professor Watson''s words ignited a flurry of hushed whispers and exmations among the students. Their private spections had proven urate after all¡ªthe professor who could single-handedly defeat nearly a hundred werewolves was indeed going to teach them how to fight?

    Harry didn''t quite agree with Professor Watson''s statement, as Hogwarts had Defense Against the Dark Arts ss, and that chatan Lockhart had even held a Dueling Club once. But then again, Defense Against the Dark Arts focused primarily on countering Dark magic and dealing with dangerous creatures, while the one-time Dueling Club was a joke.

    "This course has never existed before, so no one knows how to conduct it. Therefore, based on my personal experience, I have designed some teaching ns. You are the first batch. If it seeds with you, then this course may be permanently retained."

    "But Professor¡ª" Cedric raised his hand eagerly. "How do you define sess? I mean, what level of skill do you think we need to attain to prove this course is sessful?"

    "Hmm, good question, Mr. Diggory¡ª" Bryan stroked his chin thoughtfully, his brow furrowing as he pondered the query. "I think at least being able to defeat a wizard of Professor ck''s caliber in a duel would be considered qualified."

    "We couldn''t possibly!" Harry immediately eximed, his voice thick with disbelief, and most of the young wizards wore expressions of amused incredulity upon their faces.

    Defeat Professor ck in a duel? Oh, if they truly reached that level, they could probably follow Professor Watson in overthrowing the Ministry of Magic''s rule!

    "One must have dreams, Mr. Potter," Professor Watson said, his lips curving into an enigmatic smile. "What if you achieved it?"

    The young wizardsughed even harder, except for Hermione and Luna, who both sensed that Professor Watson wasn''t entirely joking.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0352 The Demonstration

    0352 The Demonstration

    "But Professor¡ª" Cedric raised his hand eagerly. "How do you define sess? I mean, what level of skill do you think we need to attain to prove this course is sessful?"

    "Hmm, good question, Mr. Diggory¡ª" Bryan stroked his chin thoughtfully, his brow furrowing as he pondered the query. "I think at least being able to defeat a wizard of Professor ck''s caliber in a duel would be considered qualified."

    "We couldn''t possibly!" Harry immediately eximed, his voice thick with disbelief, and most of the young wizards wore expressions of amused incredulity upon their faces.

    Defeat Professor ck in a duel? Oh, if they truly reached that level, they could probably follow Professor Watson in overthrowing the Ministry of Magic''s rule!

    "One must have dreams, Mr. Potter," Professor Watson said, his lips curving into an enigmatic smile. "What if you achieved it?"

    The young wizardsughed even harder, except for Hermione and Luna, who both sensed that Professor Watson wasn''t entirely joking.

    "Alright¡ª" Bryan raised his hand in a quieting gesture, calling for silence and quelling the cheerful discussion that had erupted amongst the students.

    "Time is precious, everyone. Now, I will demonstrate the specific content of the second stage of training. By the way, when I was a student at Hogwarts, I also used this method to train myself. Please step back; you won''t like themotion that''s about to happen."

    The young wizards surged towards the rear of the ssroom in a shuffling tide, their backs pressed against the only wall without suits of armor lined against it. They watched with bated breath and mounting excitement as Professor Watson drew a conspicuous red line upon the floor with his wand, their hushed chatter filled the air with a palpable sense of anticipation.

    "Simply put¡ª" Bryan turned to face the students. "The goal of the second training is to reach the other end of the ssroom by passing through the blocked passage using only your speed and reflexes, without the aid of your wands."

    <em>''Passing through a blocked passage?''</em>

    The young wizards''s gazes were drawn towards the menacing suits of armor again, but how would these suits brought by Professor Watson block the passage?

    The students pondered this question while the determined Professor Watson rolled up the sleeves of his robes, tightening the fabric around his forearms in a businesslike manner. He raised his voice, "Watch closely. I won''t demonstrate it a second time."

    With those words hanging in the air, Bryan suddenly waved his wand, and a shrill, trembling nking sound erupted throughout the ssroom. The suits of armor lining the other three walls abruptly lurched into motion, taking an ominous step forward with their left feet in eerie synchronicity. Their torsos twisted with a groan of protesting metal, and they raised their right arms in a synchronized throwing motion that sent a chill rippling down the spines of the assembled students!

    "Look at those armor''s hands!" The talented Seeker Harry immediately eximed, his cryced with palpable fear. Heeding his urgent warning, every head turned as one, and with just a single glimpse, they were filled with a collective wave of shock and horror.

    "Dungbombs," Fred muttered in a trance-like state. "So that''s what they''re for¡ª"

    Ever since Professor Watson went deep into the depths of the legendary Chamber of Secrets, fearlessly confronting and capturing the thousand-year-old Basilisk unscathed, the young wizards knew that Professor Watson was an exceptionally powerful wizard.

    With each incident that unfolded over the past year or so, until Professor Watson obliterated Greyback and his pack of werewolves, his extraordinary strength and prowess had been etched deeper into the collective consciousness of the students, his reputation as a truly exceptional wizard being solidified in their hearts.

    However, the young wizards who had witnessed Professor Watson''s power firsthand were but a mere handful, their understanding of his true capabilities superficial at best. Now, the scene unfolding before their eyes made them realize how superficial theirprehension of the word "powerful" truly was.

    Harry recalled a time back at the Dursley''s, where his loudmouthed uncle Vernon had been engrossed in watching a Muggle short-distance race on the flickering television screen. Even as he diligently scrubbed the dishes in the adjacent kitchen, Harry had managed to sneak a few furtive nces, his attention captivated by the explosive speed with which the tall, muscr athlete had burst forth from the starting blocks at the thunderous crack of the gunshot, propelling himself forward with a raw, primal intensity that left the him in awe.

    Yet, as he observed the figure of Professor Watson, d in sports attire, the memory of that athlete''s speed paled inparison, seeming as sluggish and lethargic as a crawling Flobberworm in the face of the Professor''s iprehensible, near-inhuman swiftness.

    In the mere blink of an eye, Professor Watson had traversed nearly forty feet, his movements a blur of impossible swiftness that defied the veryws of physics.

    Then, without warning, a torrential downpour of dung bombs descended upon them, half of the over a hundred suits of armor lining three walls of the ssroom hurling the foul missiles in rapid session at the sprinting Professor Watson!

    These dung bombs were notzily tossed but rather propelled in straight, trajectories at tremendous speeds, their paths impossible even for the talented Seekers like Harry to pinpoint with precision as they converged from all directions.

    "Oh no!"

    Hermione unconsciously let out a piercing shriek, her hand instinctively covering her mouth as her eyes widened in horror. In her perception, a whirling vortex of fast-moving shadows hadpletely enveloped Professor Watson, the flurry of iing projectiles forming an imprable curtain of danger that seemed inescapable. This was no mere exercise or harmless prank ¨C without the aid of magical spell''s defenses, even the indomitable Professor might not withstand such a relentless volley and overwhelming force of dung bombs. But the events that unfolded next defied everyone''s expectations.

    A piercing gleam shed across Bryan''s pale purple eyes. Time itself appeared to slow to a crawl as Bryan heightened his perception and dynamic vision to their absolute peak.

    <em><strong>Ducking, twisting, sliding, lunging!</strong></em>

    Bryan moved with the fluidity and precision of an exceptional stunt performer, evading the spell-like dung bombs with one unbelievable maneuver after another, his body twisting and weaving through the projectiles as if guided by some supernatural sixth sense.

    <strong>Bang, bang, bang!</strong>

    Dozens upon dozens of dung bombs exploded in rapid session within the ssroom, unleashing a miasma of potentially lethal stench that permeated every corner. But the young wizards''s attention was hyper-focused, their senses overwhelmed by the breathtaking spectacle unfolding before them, oblivious to the fumes that could knock someone unconscious.

    After skillfully evading the initial assault of dungbombs, Professor Watson abruptly altered his tactics, abandoning the straight-line path he had been following in favor of a sweeping "C" shaped arc. This ingenious strategy proved immensely effective, the slower-reacting suits of armor were unable to adjust their aim swiftly enough, so, their second volley missed him by a wide margin. Then, as if the challenge had not been arduous enough, his movements became even more elusive, and unpredictable.

    He used feinting maneuvers with the precision and cunning of a seasoned warrior, luring the armor into flinging their dung bombs in the wrong direction while precisely avoiding any that could potentially strike him. Bryan seemed to have eyes all over his body, always able to perceive and evade danger from any direction at thest possible moment.

    Before the dung bombs exploding at his feet could ssh their juice upon him, he had already swiftly moved away like a phantom on the wind, always just beyond the st radius.

    <strong>Swoosh!</strong>

    In a breathtaking disy of acrobatics, Professor Watson leaped into the air, his body arcing gracefully before lightly touching the opposite wall with the palm of his hand, the contact of his hand against the stone serving as a silent signal. Simultaneously, all the armor retracted their left foot in perfect unison, instantly returning to an upright, immobile position.

    Simultaneously, several small whirlwinds materialized within the ssroom, their swirling vortices carrying the foul, tainted air out through the open windows, purging the space of the fumes. The foul puddles that had formed on the floor seemed toe alive, the liquid seeped into the tiles automatically, leaving the surfaces pristine and unblemished. In an instant, the ssroom was restored to its former state of cleanliness and order, as if the chaotic battle had never urred.

    <strong>Phew--</strong>

    Bryan wiped the sweat from his brow, slightly out of breath.

    In his younger days, he had indeed invested considerable effort into honing and refining his skills in the dodging spells amidst the close meleebat. However, in recent years, the wizards he had faced had possessed such a vast disparity in abilitypared to him that he had grown ustomed to clearing the battlefield with powerful, wide-area spells. As such, these refined skills had grown a bit rusty.

    Even after Bryan had returned to the rtive safety of this side of the ssroom, the group of young wizards remained petrified, their eyes wide and unblinking.

    "What''s wrong?" Bryan arched an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he stared at the gaping expressions of the awestruck young wizards. "Was my performance not exciting enough for your tastes, or were you all simply overwhelmed by the stench of dung bombs?"

    "You seriously think!" Susan Bones eximed, with a long braid trailing behind her, trembled slightly. "You think we could ever--"

    Susan stammered, the words catching in her throat.

    "Do what you just did?!" Parvati Patil interjected,pleting Susan''s unfinished sentence with breathless amazement. For these young witches, the impact of these dung bombs was particrly lethal.

    "Well, of course--" Bryan said with unwavering confidence. "Of course, you''ll have to endure some hardship initially. But I don''t expect you to withstand the intensity of the exercise I just demonstrated right from the start. In the beginning, I''ll lower the intensity of the attacks, probably to about a third of what you saw. Once you adapt, we can gradually increase the speed --"

    "We''ll never be able to adapt," Parvati Patil blurted out bluntly. Her statement seemed to resonate with many of the other young wizards, who solemnly nodded in agreement.

    However, it was far toote for regrets or second thoughts now. Professor Watson had made it absolutely clear at the start of the ss that the path to giving up or backing down was closed, leaving them with no choice but to persevere.

    "Who wants to go first?" Professor Watson folded his muscr arms across his broad chest, his gaze sweeping over the assembled students. Yet, even Hermione, usually so eager and enthusiastic to participate in ss found herself lowering her head, unwilling to meet the Professor''s piercing stare.

    This was a scenario he had expected, and he didn''t feel the slightest flicker of surprise at the students''s silence. After thinking for a moment, he had an idea in mind.

    "Potter, Malfoy, Diggory, Chang ¨C you foure forward and demonstrate for everyone,"

    Unsurprisingly, the four named young wizards simultaneously wore pained, bitter expressions upon their faces, as if they were facing a great disaster¨C especially Cho Chang who seemed utterly lost.

    The remaining students, on the other hand, collectively let out audible sighs of relief, their bodies visibly rxing as they shrank back against the walls, grateful to have temporarily avoided this trial, even if their turn would inevitablye.

    The four named wizards were from Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenw respectively, and all were the Seekers of their House''s Quidditch teams.

    The importance of a Seeker to their Quidditch team was self-evident ¨C the position demanded extraordinary talent, specifically exceptional observation skills, lightning-fast reflexes that bordered on the supernatural, ability to adapt to the ever-shifting tides of the game, and an unshakeable courage that allowed them to hurl themselves into harm''s way without hesitation in pursuit of the elusive Golden Snitch. Coincidentally, these were precisely the qualities required in the trial.

    The young wizards from the four Houses had never before disyed such unprecedented coordination and unity as they did in that moment, the unselected students instinctively shrank back against the ssroom walls like a receding tide, leaving the four reluctant Seekers exposed in the center of the room, their shoulders slumped in resignation as they prepared to face the trial ahead.

    "What?" Professor Watson''s brow furrowed in displeasure, his face stern as he stared at the hesitant Seekers with disapproval. "Do I need to provide each of you with a broomstick to motivate your efforts?"

    If only that were the case ¨C Harry inwardlymented. If he had his Firebolt gifted by Sirius, Harry was confident he couldplete this challenge, undoubtedly outperforming Malfoy.

    Regardless of his private daydreams, however, the grim reality was that neither Harry nor any of the others present could defy Professor Watson''s will. No matter how unwilling or nervous they might be, they had no choice but to press onward and face the trial at hand.

    Perhaps encouraged by this realization, Harry found himself less anxious. After all, no one in this ssroom could escape tonight''s test ¨C the only difference was how many dung bombs one would endure.

    The four Seekers took their positions a few paces from the crimson line that Professor Watson had drawn earlier, serving as the starting point for their test. Except for Cho Chang, who looked utterly miserable with teary eyes, the young wizards were mentally preparing themselves.

    Harry took a deep breath, intending to advance a couple of extra steps beyond the starting line before the first wave of dung bombs arrived. Even if he ultimately fell prey to the relentless barrage, he was determined to at least get closer to the finish line than Malfoy.

    "Dare to make it apetition, Potter?"

    Just as he was mentally mapping out his strategy, Malfoy''s irritating voice rang out once more, prompting Harry to immediately turn and face provocatively looking Malfoy''s pointed chin and taunting gaze.

    "Let''s see who can go farther!"

    "Mind your own business, Draco--"

    Professor Watson''s calm but authoritative words made Harry swallow his retort. But they continued to re at each other, both refusing to be the first to admit defeat or back down from the unspoken challenge.

    "Don''t worry, Cho--" It was Cedric''s voice that cut through the tension, he gave Cho a slight warm smile and said, "Just follow behind me."

    "This goes for you too, Cedric," Bryan said with a stern face, "Mind your own business."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0353 Dungbomb Attack

    0353 Dungbomb Attack

    Professor Watson waved his wand again, and the suits of armor lined up against the wall instantly prepared to throw dung bombs. The air was filled with a heavy, somber atmosphere.

    "Harry!"

    Hermione clutched her chest, calling out in worry. Harry turned his head and gave her, as well as the equally concerned Neville and Ginny, a smile. It might have been a smile, or perhaps a grimace of pain¡ªHarry wasn''t quite sure. Fred and George, on the other hand, seemed quite enthusiastic; they were likely the students at Hogwarts most familiar with dung bombs and didn''t seem to mind the stench at all.

    "Get ready!"

    Professor Watson raised his hand in the air, making a chopping gesture.

    The other three wizards didn''t quite understand what the strange hand gesture meant, but Harry had seen it before. When he was at his Muggle school, during sports events, the announcer would make the same gesture before announcing the start of the race.

    Harry focused intently on Professor Watson''s open hand. Gradually, he tuned out all the surrounding noise, hearing only his own heartbeat. This intense concentration felt simr to the feeling he had when trying to catch the Golden Snitch in a Quidditch match ¡ªeverything moving seemed to slow down as if frozen in amber.

    Draco, Cedric, and Cho all sprinted out after the short and solemn "begin" was announced. Only Harry had already charged forward the moment Professor Watson''s hand dropped!

    In just one second, Harry had leaped twenty feet past the red line, but this distance was still insignificantpared to the quarter-mile track.

    At that moment, Harry regretted not spending more time practicing his runningtely. This way, he might have avoided a few more dung bombs that were bound to hit him.

    Draco looked at Harry, who had surpassed him by several positions, with a resentful gaze.

    No matter the challenge, whether it was battling Inferi or rowing boats, Potter had always clinched the final victory. Even in Quidditch matches, he was always one step behind. His pride and self-esteem couldn''t stand losing to Potter in everypetition. Determined to win tonight, he pushed himself harder and chased after harry.

    But this trial wasn''t just about speed.

    Just as Draco focused single-mindedly on "avenging his shame", over a dozen Dungbombs finally "descended"!

    To be fair, the situation Harry and others faced was much better than what Bryan had demonstrated earlier. During his demonstration, he had faced dozens of Dungbombs in the first wave of attack, whereas now there were only a dozen iing at them, and with four targets, each person only needed to dodge four or five dung bombs theoretically.

    In theory, it was easier, but in practice, it was much harder.

    Draco stared in horror at the looming of dung bombs heading straight for his face. He wanted to dodge, but while his Brain issued themands, his body couldn''t respond to suchplex instructions. Unable to perform any intricate evasive maneuvers, Draco clutched his head with a shrill cry, crumpling to his knees and rolling head-over-heels several times across the floor!

    Harry fared no better than Draco, clearly attempting to mimic Professor Watson''s impressive serpentine "C" motion, but without a broomstick under him, such rapid changes of direction at speed proved far from simple. Harry''s feet slipped out under him, and he mmed straight down to the floor with a heavy thud.

    "Aah!"

    A piercing shriek, loud enough to shatter ss, rang out.

    Cho, who hadn''t reacted in time, was hit by three Dungbombs. It felt like she had been punched three times in quick session, and the exploding stench made her lose color in her face. Cho copsed onto the sticky ground, tears streaming down her face as she made retching sounds.

    "Cho!"

    Perhaps thanks to luck orposure, Cedric managed to stumble past the first wave. Spotting both Harry and Draco fall simultaneously, he prepared to seize the chance to overtake them, only for the shriek behind him to clutch at his heart. Cedric immediately halted and turned back, rushing to Cho''s side to help her up.

    "What are you doing, Mr. Diggory!" Bryan''s voice was unusually cold. "You think this is just a game? A chance to disy your chivalry?"

    Bryan then turned his icy gaze towards Cho, who seemed to have lost all will to fight.

    "Is the stench of Dungbombs more nauseating than the smell of blood? Get up and finish the course!"

    Cedric gritted his teeth, ready to leave Cho and continue his challenge. But the momentary dy allowed the second wave of attacks to catch up. Before he could fully stand, something mmed brutally hard into his forehead, cking out his vision as he toppled over backwards.

    Professor Watson''s harsh reprimand left Cho helpless. Instinctively, she tried to follow themand, but the sticky, foul-smelling liquid sapped her strength. Struggling to get up, she was pushed to the brink of copse by the continuous barrage of dung bombs. and she could only cover her face, shoulders shaking with sobs.

    Both Draco and Harry had suffered significant injuries from the first wave of attacks. Draco''s knees were badly hurt, and Harry''s fall had left him dazed.

    The two of them didn''t give up. The crisis they faced made them lose all sense of calm, preventing them from fully hearing Bryan''s admonishments as they struggled onwards.

    But at this point, Draco and Harry had both lost theirposurepletely, resorting to the equally foolish tactic of shielding their faces with one arm while crawling and rolling forward.

    This method was clearly unsustainable. Before they had even reached fifty feet, Harry and Draco were hit by one after another "heavy punches" and copsed on the ground. They curled up, holding their heads, too exhausted to stand up.

    "You can''t passively wait for the attacks. You must learn to anticipate, and observe your opponent''s movements¡ª" Bryan ordered the armor to stop attacking and sighed helplessly. "Running with your eyes covered is a death wish."

    As Harry had expected, every wizard who hade to this ssroom tonight had suffered torment. None of them could hold on until fifty feet away, and when the girls left the ssroom, tears were streaming down their faces.

    "You don''t need to arrive at the Quidditch pitch before six anymore, but you still need to spend half an hour every day practicing. You can choose any time you want to continue running. I will know if you''ve followed my instructions."

    Before leaving the ssroom, Professor Watson''s announcement made all the wizards feel helpless.

    "Before returning to yourmon rooms, go to the hospital wing first and have Madam Pomfrey tend to your injuries. I''ve already informed her, so she''ll be expecting you."

    Professor Watson returned to his usual friendly tone, smiling at everyone.

    "You may all go now. Ah, Harry, you stay behind for a moment. I need to speak with you about something."

    Many students looked at Harry with sympathetic eyes, except for the Slytherins, of course.

    Never before had Harry felt such an urgent desire to get away from Professor Watson, but he could only watch helplessly as Hermione and the others hurried out of the ssroom.

    "Professor Watson¡ª"

    Harry tried to make himself appear weaker, speaking pitifully.

    "If you want me to try again, I''m afraid¡ªI mean, my whole body hurts."

    "It''s not about that, Harry."

    Bryan chuckled cheerfully.

    "I didn''t expect you all to aplish everything in just a few training sessions. In fact, I kept you behind because I have a gift for you, ah, ate gift."

    Harry blinked and it took him a few seconds to understand what Professor Watson was talking about.

    As the second term of the previous academic year at Hogwarts, Professor Watson privately gave them gifts, in recognition of their active roles during the Basilisk incident.

    Hermione received a Magic Book, which perfectly suited her taste. Harry had seen Hermione studying things in the book recently. As for Ron, he received a Merlinmemorative coin, said to possess immense value in both mary and historical terms. Harry knew that since obtaining this coin, Ron always kept it on him, frequently taking it out to y with.

    But at that time, Harry didn''t receive anything. Professor Watson only told him that he would prepare a gift for him and give it to him in the future.

    Last Christmas, Harry got the Firebolt broomstick as Christmas gift from someone. Initially, both Harry and Ron had spected that this extraordinary gift was the long-awaited present from Professor Watson, but they soon discovered that the true gift-giver was Sirius, Harry''s godfather.

    Since then, Harry no longer dwelled on this matter. He only grumbled a few words in his heart when Hermione took out the magic book or when Ron yed with his coin. But he didn''t expect Professor Watson to bring it up at this time.

    "Oh..."

    Harry wanted to be modest, but he was indeed very curious about what Professor Watson would give him.

    It couldn''t be a broomstick, could it? He already owned the world''s best racing broom. But apart from Quidditch-rted items, what else could it be?

    <em>''A full set of broomstick maintenance gear?''</em>

    Harry had wanted this for some time, but he was still considering it. Although his wealth could easily support the expense, it was still quite costly. He currently had no means of earning money, so he had to be prudent in using his inheritance.

    <em>''An exquisite Quidditch match rey model?''</em>

    This model could rey the entire process of any ssic Quidditch match in history. It was thetest alchemical product released by the Lumos Company. Ever since learning of its existence, Harry had yearned for it. However, it was also not cheap.

    No matter how much he thought about it, everything in Harry''s mind revolved around Quidditch¡ªafter all, it was his most favorite sport in the wizarding world.

    <em>''It couldn''t be the keys to a house, could it?''</em>

    Harry saw Professor Watson reach into his robes, and this thought suddenly popped into his head.

    Previously, Sirius had said that during the summer holidays, he would take Harry away from the Dursleys and have him live in his ancestral home. But Sirius had also mentioned that the house now belonged to Professor Watson, and he only had the right to use it. Harry didn''t quite understand how this had happened, but if Professor Watson now took out the keys to that house...

    "Take it, Harry..."

    Professor Watson finally took his hand out of his pocket and handed him a shiny golden object, with a mysterious smile on his face that Harry couldn''t understand.

    When returning to the Gryffindor Tower and passing through the Fat Lady''s portrait, Harry still had a dazed expression. He had Professor Watson''s gift in his pocket, but what concerned Harry more was the professor''s intent in giving it to him.

    Themon room was as lively as ever. Fred and George were vividly recounting the evening''s incident with Cedric to the group gathered around them, including Lee Jordan and other young wizards. George mimicked Professor Watson''s scolding of Cedric, causing the crowd to burst intoughter.

    Harry didn''t join them; he quietly slipped past and saw Hermione waving at him from the sofa.

    "Where''s Ron?"

    Hermione pointed to the other side of themon room where a crowd was gathered. Then she lifted her wet hair and sniffed it under her nose.

    Although Professor Watson had removed the stench of the Dungbombs from them, for a girl who valued cleanliness like Hermione, the mental shadow couldn''t be easily erased. The first thing every young witch did upon returning to the dormitory was to rush into the washroom and thoroughly clean herself.

    "What''s going on, Harry?" Hermione wore a yellow velvet pajama set. She pulled up the right pant leg to her knee, revealing a fading bruise on her legs in the soft candlelight.

    "You seem distracted. What did Professor Watson keep you behind for?"

    "Oh, it''s like this¡ª" Harry murmured, then took out the item Professor Watson had given him from his pocket and began exining its origin.

    Twenty minutester, the crowd gradually dispersed. Having listened to many jokes and wholeheartedly believing that quitting Professor Watson''s physical education ss was a wise decision, Ron walked out of the crowd and saw Harry and Hermione sitting there whispering.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0354 The Gift Incident

    0354 The Gift Incident

    Twenty minutester, the crowd gradually dispersed. Having listened to many jokes and wholeheartedly believing that quitting Professor Watson''s physical education ss was a wise decision, Ron walked out of the crowd and saw Harry and Hermione sitting there whispering.

    "When did you get back, Harry?"

    Ron had just plopped onto the sofa when he noticed the object in Hermione''s hand and immediately jumped up in surprise.

    "Good heavens, a gold watch! Where did you get that?!"

    "Professor Watson gave it to Harry as a gift ¡ª" Hermione nced at Ron and calmly said, "It''s not a gold watch, Ron. I just used magic to detect it; the casing isn''t made of gold¡ªbut it is a special kind of metal, and this watch seems to be magically protected."

    "Oh..."

    Upon hearing it wasn''t a gold watch, Ron appeared much more serious as he carefully examined the silver dial adorned with glistening crystal-like decorations.

    "A gift... but from Professor Watson. Oh, I understand, it''s about that incident!"

    Ron had also recalled Professor Watson ''owing'' Harry a gift. He blinked, his puzzled gaze shifting to Harry.

    "But why would he give you a watch? I thought he''d give you something rted to Quidditch."

    "We were just discussing that," said Harry. "Hermione thinks maybe Professor Watson wants to remind me to cherish time with this watch¡ª"

    Ron snorted withughter, but Hermione''s annoyed look made him hastily suppress his grin. After tilting his head in thought, his expression grew much more solemn.

    "Generally, when a young wizardes of age, his parents or elders will give him a watch that will apany them throughout their lives."

    Ron noticed the confusion on Hermione and Harry''s faces, so he shrugged and added,

    "This is an ancient tradition in the wizarding world. Mom and Dad gave watches to Bill and Charlie when they came of age. Percy has one too, but he rarely wears it, maybe because he doesn''t like it much."

    <em>''Parents and elders...''</em> Harry was stunned for a moment, not knowing what to say.

    "In my opinion¡ª" Ron said pensively, resting his chin on his hand, "It would have been more appropriate for Sirius to give it to you. You know what I mean, right? After all, he''s your godfather."

    Hermione hesitated for a moment but didn''t say anything. If there really was such a tradition in the Wizarding world, Ron''s words were not wrong.

    Harry silently took his watch back from Hermione. After considering, he still fastened it onto his wrist. In the gentle candlelight, the golden casing''s reflection held a touch of mysterious radiance. Harry furrowed his brow slightly.

    "Isn''t it a bit too showy?"

    "No," Hermione raised her eyebrows and said decisively, "It looks great and suits you very well."

    Harry grinned and finally showed a happy smile.

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong>*Scene-break*</strong>

    In the fleeting days after receiving the watch, Harry found himself enveloped in a perplexing state of absentmindedness.

    His keen intuition told him that Professor Watson giving him the watch might not just be a tradition in the wizarding world, as Ron had said. This tradition was usually carried out by parents, elders, or guardians, and Professor Watson did not fall into any of those categories.

    Of course,pared to other professors, Professor Watson had always been quite caring towards him, but this care would not exceed certain boundaries.

    For example, Sirius would directly warn Snape and would not hesitate to duel with him in the castle to prevent Snape from targeting Harry anymore. However, Professor Watson would not do such a thing. In fact, he had the best rtionship with Professor Snape among all the staff.

    All this time, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been the students who interacted with Professor Watson the most frequently. However, Professor Watson paid more attention to Harry than to Hermione and Ron.

    This was not because he was the famous Harry Potter but rather, Harry guessed, because he and Professor Watson were both orphans, so there might be some emotional resonance between them.

    There must be some other meaning behind it.

    This thought made Harry constantly try to figure out what was so unusual about this watch. Whenever he was free, his gaze would fall on his left wrist, and he would unconsciously fiddle with the watch face, as if he were bewitched.

    Even during sses, he could not control himself, and this led to a series of ''idents''.

    For instance, during Professor Flitwick''s ss, when he and Ron were practicing the Cheering Charm face-to-face, the reflection of light from the crystal-clear watch face caught Harry''s attention. His wrist turned involuntarily, and with a deafening bang, Ron ended up hanging from the giant chandelier on the ceiling, his face ckened and smokeing out of his mouth.

    "Oh, I''m fine, really, I''m sure!" Ron assured the concerned Professor Flitwick adamantly, facing the roar ofughter erupting from his amused ssmates and Harry''s apologetic expression. After being let down, this incident eventually settled with Harry losing five points.

    Yet, the string of misfortunes did not cease there, During Professor McGonagall''s Transfiguration ss, they were learning how to transfigure a beautiful teacup into a turtle. Harry absentmindedly waved his wand, and the teapot in front of him exploded with a loud bang, its shattered remains raining down upon the nearby desks, eliciting startled cries from the unsuspecting students.

    "Really, Potter!" Professor McGonagall pushed her ck square sses, striding up to Harry from the lectern and saying sternly, "When did you learn that skill from Professor Finnigan , Mr. Potter?"

    Well, another five points gone from Gryffindor.

    "Please, Harry!" Hermione said worriedly on their way to the Potions ssroom in the dungeons on Thursday afternoon. "Don''t worry about why Professor Watson gave you that watch anymore. If Professor Snape catches on, he won''t just take five points!"

    Harry deeply agreed with Hermione''s advice. He should indeed let this matter go.

    However, not actively causing any idents in Potions ss did not mean that unfortunate things would not happen.

    "Professor Snape!" Harry was concentrating on brewing the Confusing Concoction ording to the book''s instructions when Malfoy suddenly raised his hand from across the row of desks. Harry looked over to find Malfoy sneering at him with a twisted smile.

    "What is it, Draco?" Snape, standing below the lectern, his gaze epassing the entire dimly lit dungeon, asked Dracozily.

    "Potter is trying to distract me from brewing my potion, Professor. He''s using that fake gold watch to reflect sunlight into my eyes, making it impossible for me to concentrate!"

    "You''re lying!" Harry burst out angrily, pointing at the tightly sealed curtains and shouting loudly, "There''s not a single ray of sunlight in here!"

    "Oh, yes, yes¡ª" Snape walked over with an oily smile, slowly letting his gaze fall on Harry''s gold watch. A glimpse of malice shed in his dark, hollow eyes, though no one noticed.

    "It seems the great Savior has acquired a new trinket to better capture the attention he so desperately craves,"

    Snape gave Harry''s thickening potion in the cauldron a disdainful nce. " Before you entertain us with the details of yourtest pathetic bid for notoriety, could you please tell us what''s in your cauldron? Goblin vomit perhaps?"

    Harry did not refute Snape''s words because his experience over the past two years had taught him that no matter what he said, Snape would not stop insulting him. Instead, it would only invite more severe punishment.

    To be honest, after Sirius and Snape had a fight, it had been a while since Harry had been targeted like this in Potions ss.

    With a disdainful flick of his wand, Snape vanished the Confusing Concoction that Harry had so painstakingly brewed over the course of the hour, the fruits of hisbor dissipating into nothingness. Harry red at Snape with an ashen face, only receiving a casual dismissal in return:

    "A worthless pile of rubbish, zero points, Potter. Before the next ss, you need to submit a fifteen-inch essay on the properties of the Confusing Concoction to me individually."

    Hermione desperately signaled Harry with her eyes, and Ron kept kicking his ankles under the desk. However, Harry could not stand Malfoy''s gloating smile any longer.

    "I didn''t use the watch to poke Malfoy''s eyes, Professor Snape!"

    "Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter¡ª" Snape said coldly, "this is the punishment for lying."

    The rage was about to engulf Harry entirely and blue veins bulged on the back of his hands. Using up almost all his reason, Harry barely resisted the urge to smash the searing cauldron onto Snape''s head. However, Snape clearly did not intend to let him off the hook. He slowly bent down until Harry could smell theplex mixture of odors emanating from Snape''s body.

    "Perhaps you think having a murderer as a backer in school allows you to disrespect your professors, Potter. But if I catch you showing off that ridiculous¡ª"

    "Sirius is not a murderer; he has been proven innocent!" Harry roared, jumping to his feet and staring directly into Snape''s eyes, not caring that Ron was almost pulling his pants down!

    A terrifying light flickered in Snape''s eyes, and he was about to say something when Hermione suddenly spoke up.

    "Professor Snape¡ª" Hermione had clearly mustered every ounce of her Gryffindor courage to dare interrupt the about-to-explode Snape. In a trembling, sugary voice, she said, "Harry¡ªthis watch was, was given to him by Professor Watson as a reward, um. Last year, it was Harry who discovered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets¡ª"

    At that moment, Harry noticed the cold, icy glint in Snape''s eyes, mere inches away from him, disappear, reced by a look of sheer surprise, though it also onlysted for a brief moment. Then, Snape straightened up and turned away expressionlessly.

    For the rest of the time, the Potions ssroom was filled with an extremely oppressive atmosphere. Neville made a mistake with the amount of Shrivelfig, causing a cement-like substance in his cauldron to erupt like a volcano, affecting almost half the students in the ssroom.

    This time, however, Malfoy did not immediately start mocking Neville. He could see that Professor Snape''s mood was probably off, and indeed, Professor Snape behaved unusually. If it had been in the past, Neville would have inevitably had to deal with Stinksap and frog brains until the end of the term. But this time, Snape said nothing and just waved his wand to clear away the solidified liquid.

    "I must admit, Harry¡ª" The bell rang for the end of ss, and Harry did not dy for a second, grabbing his bag and rushing out of the dungeon with an ashen face. Ron and Hermione hastily packed their things and chased after Harry.

    "If it weren''t for Hermione¡ª" Ron exhaled a tremulous sigh of relief once they had achieved a safe distance from the dungeons, his wordsced with palpable gratitude. "You and Neville would probably be soaking in Snape''s jars of potion ingredients right now."

    "It was Professor Watson''s name that had an effect¡ª" Hermione stared at Harry''s profile and said in a soft voice, "He didn''t pursue it further for the sake of Professor Watson. I know you want to defend Sirius, but Harry, you should not have shouted at a professor, no matter what."

    "Who are you angry at, Harry?"

    Sirius came down the stairs across from the entrance hall. He smiled and waved goodbye to a few sixth-year Ravenw students, then hurried over. As he approached the three of them, catching the potent scent on Harry and the others, and noticing that they were standing at the dungeon entrance, Sirius''s face paled. He narrowed his eyes at Harry''s slightly unnatural expression, his toneced with barely contained anger.

    "What-, did that sniveling git give you trouble again?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0355 Clarification

    0355 rification

    "What!, did that sniveling git give you trouble again?"

    "Oh, no, Sirius, I just¡ª"

    The words emerged hesitantly from Harry''s lips, his face contorting unnaturally as he struggled to conceal the truth from Sirius. The reason for his deception was simple - if Sirius were to learn of Snape''s scathing words and actions during the recent Potions ss, he would definitely go and cause trouble for Snape. Harry would certainly be happy to see Snape in misfortune, but absolutely not at the cost of Sirius being reprimanded by Professor Dumbledore.

    "It''s just that Neville had a bit of an incident while brewing the Confusing Concoction," Harry lied, showing Sirius the red marks on his arm that had been sshed by the potion.

    "So, I snapped at him a few times."

    Sirius looked suspicious. He nced towards Hermione and Ron, but the two kids were avoiding his gaze.

    "Alright, I''ll go ask Snape to rify¡ª"

    Sirius was no fool. Seeing this situation, how could he not understand what was going on? Moreover, he probably guessed the reason why Harry had lied to him.

    Sirius''s expression was calm, not showing much anger, but Harry noticed the veins popping on the back of Sirius''s clenched hand. He grabbed Sirius''s wrist urgently and said,

    "No! Sirius, it''s not a big deal, I''m used to it."

    "Used to it!??"

    Harry''s attempt to calm things down through those ill-chosen words proved to be the spark that ignited Sirius''splete rage. With a snapping sound, he shook off Harry''s arm and strode towards the dungeon. His terrifying expression startled Neville and the others who had just emerged from the gloomy underground passage. One by one, they leaned against the wall, not daring to obstruct Sirius''s path.

    "But! I''m not used to watching my own godson be bullied by that sniveling git."

    "I''ll go stop him. You guys find someone who can resolve this!"

    Finally realizing what was happening, Harry shouted urgently over his shoulder as he gave chase to the underground corridor.

    Hermione''s voice rose in panic, "Resolve this... But, oh, Professor Dumbledore is away from school for a few days!"

    "Are you stupid?" Ron grabbed Hermione''s wrist and dragged her towards the marble staircase. "Apart from Professor Watson, who else can stop those two?"

    s, Sirius was destined to make a wasted trip, as the person he intended to cause trouble for had alreadye through the office firece to Bryan''s office.

    To be honest, although the two had good rtionship, and were now colleagues, Snape rarely visited Bryan''s office under normal circumstances. It was Bryan who, when free, liked to stop by Snape''s office for a chat, and incidentally, to visit his ex-professor''s personal storage room.

    The sudden glow of hot, red embers flickering in the firece caught the attention of Bryan, who was hunched over his desk, deep in thought about something. Immediately after, Snape emerged from a brilliant spiral of green mes.

    Among the Hogwarts faculty, Bryan''s office was the humblest, and he was the only one who kept a bed in his office for sleeping. Looking around and confirming there were no other visitors, Snape nced at the camp bed by the window in the corner and said tly,

    "Why don''t you get yourself a proper bedroom?"

    "You know I don''t care about that¡ª" Bryan answered casually and bent his head back to his own business.

    "What are you doing?"

    Snape''s footsteps carried him towards Bryan''s desk, his gaze falling upon what appeared to be ancient manuscripts, their pages yellowed and brittle with age. Bryan seemed engrossed in calctions, the parchments before him were covered in obscure forme andplex arcane spell patterns. Even Snape''s considerable magical knowledge could decipher only a fraction of the intricate workingsid bare before him.

    A wizard''s research was an extremely private and precious matter, but Bryan did not mind Snape prying into his work. His mind was upied by his own business.

    "An ancient form of meditation that can enhance one''s perception of the ebb and flow of magical changes in the surrounding environment. But the entry threshold to grasp it is exceptionally high. As far as I can tell, Luna Lovegood may be the only one at Hogwarts with the talent to potentially master it. I''m trying to see if I can simplify it¡ª"

    "Luna Lovegood?" Snape frowned slightly, quickly recalling the person corresponding to the name in his mind. "The odd second-year girl from Ravenw? Her Potions grade are average, and she''s easily distracted in ss. I fail to see how she possesses the talent you mentioned."

    Snape had borne witness to Bryan''s growth and development; this young man possessed magical talents that Snape had rarely encountered in his lifetime, and to gain Bryan''s recognition meant that Snape could not help but harbor a flicker of curiosity.

    "The girl is indeed exceptionally gifted, but her talents have not been properly guided, and she herselfcks the right understanding of her own abilities, so... By the way, what brings you here?"

    Research required an undisturbed environment. The normally uninviting Professor Snape''s visit could not have been merely to pass time. Bryan put his quill back into the ink bottle and rubbed his brow. He gestured for Snape to sit, while he himself went to prepare tea by the firece.

    Indeed, there was no need to conceal anything between the two of them. Snape sat on the sofa with a somber expression and asked directly,

    "Was it you who gave Potter that wristwatch?"

    Bryan''s movements froze. He squinted, turning his head to look at Snape on the sofa. In an instant, his mind raced with thoughts.

    <em>''Did Professor Snape notice that something was wrong with the watch?''</em>

    Theoretically, it was impossible. Bryan had very cleverly concealed the true capabilities of the watch with alchemy and magic, and there were many interlocking spells protecting it - Dumbledore could tell something was off about the watch, but even he should not see be able to see through those veils without outright destroying it.

    <em>''Could it be on Dumbledore''s private instructions?''</em>

    Given Dumbledore''s attention towards Harry, he must have noticed that watch. Bryan had nned to feign ignorance when Dumbledore inquired about it, So Could it be that Dumbledore anticipated this possibility and sent Snape, who had a closer rtionship with him, to inquire covertly?

    <em>''But that old man had been away these few days, hadn''t he?''</em>

    "Indeed, I gifted it to Harry as a token of gratitude for his, Ron''s and Hermione''s help in the search for the Chamber of Secretsst year. Is there anything wrong?"

    Bryan brought the steaming cup of tea over to the sofa, seeming nonchnt as he asked.

    Professor Snape was a trustworthy person, but sometimes he was too involved and wanted to get to the bottom of these matters.

    "I just came to confirm," Snape said tly. "You may not be aware of, Bryan, but Potter and his two inseparable friends have a habit of stealing. I have clear evidence that some precious ingredients from my private storage went missingst year, and they were involved in that."

    This lie was obviously used to divert attention, and Bryan couldn''t fail to see it.

    Just then, the firece that had just gone out lit up again. Bryan had just turned around when a silver phoenix, swiftly emerged from the swirling mes and hovered in midair.

    "Oh, Severus, you''re here too¡ª" Dumbledore''s aged voice carried a hint of surprise. "I have an important matter to discuss with you in person, Bryan, but since you have a guest, I cane another time."

    Snape made a subtle move, as if to take his leave, but Bryan stopped him with a gesture.

    "Stay, Professor. If any troublees upter, I''ll trouble you to help me deal with it."

    The corner of Snape''s mouth twitched, while Dumbledore''s phoenix Patronus looked resigned, leaving the words "Wait a moment" before dissipating like a sand painting, its magic depleted.

    After about ten minutes, Dumbledore stepped out of the firece. He was in a hurry, wearing a purple travelling cloak, It seemed that he had just returned to Hogwarts and had rushed over to Bryan''s office without resting.

    "Have a seat, Headmaster¡ª"

    Bryan gestured for Dumbledore to sit on the sofa. He walked over to the firece, picked up a jar, shook it vigorously, and poured out some tea leaves and crumbs.

    "What''s the matter, Severus--"

    Dumbledore noticed the gloomy expression on Professor Snape''s face and blinked curiously.

    "Is it because of my untimely visit interrupting your pleasant conversation with Bryan? If so, Severus, I cane back another time."

    A faint sneer appeared on Snape''s lips as he gave a couple of mocking snorts, but did not speak.

    "No need¡ª" Bryan came over with a cup of tea topped with ayer of crumbs and smiled. "A few days ago, I gave Potter a wristwatch - as a token of gratitude for his help in finding the Chamber of Secretsst year. Professor Snape was curious about it, as due to some unpleasant past incidents, he mistakenly thought Potter had stolen it from me. In any case, the misunderstanding has been cleared up."

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0356 Rejected Request

    0356 Rejected Request

    The air in the office was thick with palpable tension as Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling with intrigue, expressed his surprise upon learning of the peculiar wrist-watch. "A watch, you say?" he inquired eagerly, his bushy brows arching in curiosity. "Pray tell, what kind of watch is this?"

    Bryan brushed aside Dumbledore''s suspicions with a nonchnt wave of his hand. "A watch forged from magical metal, though nothing too extraordinary," he replied dismissively. "Its primary feature lies in its absolute precision in keeping time and its remarkable resistance to damage."

    The three wizards sitting in this office understood each other, all knowing what ''kind'' the others were.

    Dumbledore was well aware the watch Bryan gave Harry was probably not an ordinary traditional watch. Yet, he refrained from probing further, an unspoken agreement between the two men that required no words.

    "Well then, Headmaster, regarding what you mentioned before¡ª" Bryan began, only to halt abruptly as his gaze shifted towards the doorway. Simultaneously, Dumbledore''s beard twitched ever so slightly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in a knowing smile.

    "It would appear you find yourself rather preupied, Bryan," Dumbledore remarked, his toneced with amusement.

    "s, troublesome matters do seem to appear in clusters," Bryan conceded with a shake of his head.

    "Professor Watson, Sirius has gone to find you, ahem!"

    "And Harry''s gone after him too, err!"

    The frantic cries of Hermione and Ron rung in the air as they burst into the office, their faces flushed with urgency, but upon seeing the smiling Dumbledore seated on the sofa, Hermione''s face instantly flushed red as her fists clenched tightly with nervousness. Ron, too, seemed to have lost his voice, his mouth agape in aical imitation of a pumpkin with its mouth sawed off.

    Dumbledore''s presence was not the source of their difort ¨C no, it was the rigid, suspicious re of Snape that drained the color from their faces, leaving them flustered and tongue-tied.

    The atmosphere was suffocating, oppressive in its intensity.

    They had sought out Professor Watson''s help in hopes of dissuading Sirius from going after Snape. Yet, to their dismay, one of the parties embroiled in the conflict sat before them, rendering them utterly speechless and unsure of how to proceed.

    "It seems they havee to see you, Bryan,"

    Dumbledore said, his slender fingers inteced as he reclined against the couch, feigning interest in the vibrant sunset visible through the window. His demeanor suggested a purposeful detachment, a reluctance to intervene in the unfolding events.

    Bryan''s gaze flickered momentarily towards Snape, taking note of the man''s darkening face, before settling upon the flustered young wizards. The corner of his mouth twitched in an amused smile as he had a vague guess in his heart. With a skillful flick of his wand, its glowing tip traced intricate ripples upon the air, conjuring a solidified, ominous serpent with two wings ¨C one ck, one white ¨C that slithered through the air with grace.

    Hermione''s eyes widened as she noticed Professor Watson''s pale purple irises sh with a deeper shade of violet for the briefest of instants. Simultaneously, the pping winged beast''s eyes mirrored the same fleeting sh before Professor Watson''s Patronus shot forth like a bolt of lightning, its ethereal form passing through the wall and disappearing from the room.

    "No need to worry," Bryan reassured them, crossing his fingers over his raised knee. "I have called Sirius here."

    Watching the increasingly flustered Hermione and Ron scurry away with even greater haste than their initial burst into the office, Bryan shook his head, an amused smile upon his lips.

    "I have warned you before, Severus," Dumbledore withdrew his gaze from the window, as he said to the expressionless Snape with a resigned yet solemn tone. "What you see is only what you wish to see. Past events have clouded your judgment, but if you let go of your prejudice, you''ll find that Harry is a very nice child."

    Snape''s demeanor made it abundantly clear that he passionately disagreed with Dumbledore''s assessment of Harry. He snorted mockingly, his lips curling into a disdainful sneer as he replied in a dry, scathing tone,

    "Wise words indeed, Headmaster Dumbledore ¨C ''What you see is only what you wish to see.'' And perhaps those very words apply to you as well."

    Sirius, having failed to locate his target in the basement, soon arrived upon the third floor. Bryan had expected to be greeted by a face twisted in rage, perhaps even the sight of Sirius drawing his wand in preparation for a confrontation. However, to his surprise, Sirius entered with a rtively calm expression, though his eyes showed an undisguised hatred when his gaze fell upon Snape.

    "I''m here," Sirius stated curtly, offering a curt nod to Dumbledore and Bryan.

    The air was thick with the choking scent of gunpowder, a palpable tension that threatened to ignite at any moment. Unwilling to allow the mutually hostile pair to sit in close proximity, Bryan levitated a chair from behind the desk, gesturing for Sirius to take a seat.

    Bryan and Dumbledore exchanged a meaningful nce, a silentmunication passing between them. Then, Bryan spoke, his voice carrying an air of authority. "I hope we can reach some consensus here today¡ª"

    His words resonated with a weight that left no room for argument or disagreement.

    "You two harbor a deep-seated loathing for one another, with no apparent intention of reconciliation," he continued. "I am no idealist, and I harbor no delusions of changing your perceptions of each other. However, this is Hogwarts, a sanctuary for hundreds of young witches and wizards, here for knowledge and personal growth. You must understand that any conflict between you within these walls could very well have profound repercussions upon those underage students entrusted to our care."

    "What Bryan said represents my views as well," Dumbledore said sternly. "I hope you both realize and truly understand the responsibilities borne by a professor."

    The weight of Bryan and Dumbledore''s words seemed to have some effect, as Sirius and Snape, who had been locked in a heated ring contest, averted their gazes, staring expressionlessly into the distance. However, after a few tense moments, Sirius turned his head back, shooting Snape a provocative nce before fixing his eyes upon Dumbledore.

    "I have made a decision, Headmaster Dumbledore. I mentioned it to Bryan earlier, but he insisted that you be made aware as well."

    "Oh?" Dumbledore''s voice took on a serious tone. "And what might this decision involve?"

    "Thising summer, I want to take Harry away from his aunt and uncle''s home." Sirius stated resolutely. "I have already consulted with Harry himself, and he is more than willing to do so."

    Snape''s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his lips parting as if to speak, but in the end he remained silent, hisplexion paling slightly.

    A prolonged silence descended upon the office, theck of response speaking volumes in itself. Snape, whoseplexion had not been great to begin with, now showed a subtle change in color, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they curled into his trademark mocking sneer. Sirius, on the other hand, who had been certain that Dumbledore would not object, found his own face darkening with a storm of emotions.

    "I''m sorry, Sirius," Dumbledore finally spoke, his gaze steady as he looked directly at Sirius. "I cannot grant your request."

    "I''m Harry''s godfather!" Sirius erupted, leaping to his feet in a surge of barely contained rage as he red boldly at Dumbledore. "Harry himself desires to live with me. And you may be unaware of this, but Harry''s Muggle aunt and uncle have been abusing him. Harry confided in me that beforeing to Hogwarts, they forced him to live in the cupboard under the stairs!"

    Sirius''s voice grew increasingly enraged as he rapid-fired off every detail Harry had shared about his mistreatment at the hands of the Dursleys, his wordsshing out like bullets from a machine gun. Hearing this, even the previously smug Snape who had initially seemed to take pleasure in Harry''s misfortune, subtly changed. He was first visibly shocked, then a strange, unfamiliar anger began to swell within him, a feeling he himself couldn''t understand.

    <em>''Petunia Evans, that insufferable, ridiculous woman, dared to¡ª''</em>

    "In fact¡ª"

    Sirius was still in the midst of his outburst, recounting the unfair treatment to which Harry had been subjected, when Dumbledore gently cut him off, his tone tinged with a weary resignation.

    "I may be more aware of Harry''s life with his aunt and uncle than you might imagine, Sirius¡ª"

    Sirius fell abruptly silent, staring at Dumbledore with an expression of utter disbelief that was mirroring Snape''s astonished face.

    "Why?" Sirius uttered coldly. "If you were aware, why did you not intervene and rescue Harry from those despicable Muggle couple? Why did you simply sit idly by, Dumbledore? If not for James and Lily''s sacrifice, if not for Harry himself, we might still be unable to escape Voldemort''s reign of terror. This is¡ª"

    Bryan could sense that Sirius had been on the verge of using Dumbledore of being ungrateful and disappointing the memory of the deceased Potters, but he had swallowed those words in the depths of his fury, out of residual respect for the old man. However, upon observing the ashen faces of Sirius and Professor Snape, Bryan knew that Dumbledore would need to provide a substantive justification to defuse this vtile situation, otherwise the aftermath may spiral beyond their control.

    And Dumbledore, too, seemed to recognize this fact, the wrinkles etched into his forehead multiplying as a heavy silence hung in the air.

    "Please sit down, Sirius. And you too, Severus. I will give you a reasonable exnation."

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0357 New Errand

    0357 New Errand

    This was perhaps the first time Dumbledore realized hismands were not working much at Hogwarts.

    Sirius was still standing there, emanating an icy cold aura, while Snape was also ring at his profile with a sinister look saying, "I hope to hear some reasons that can resolve my doubts, instead of the usual lofty words you tell me."

    At this moment, Bryan felt a bit sympathetic toward Dumbledore. These two middle-aged men, who were like water and fire, stood together in the same front for the first time, just to force him to give an exnation. "Well, if you''re willing to listen while standing, but I hope you realize that what I''m going to tell you must be kept strictly confidential. It cannot be revealed to anyone, and of course, I hope the person involved temporarily doesn''t know either--" Dumbledore sighed.

    "First, I believe you won''t forget the terrible events that happened twelve years ago when Voldemort went to Godric''s Hollow and targeted the Potter family. James and Lily died, while the young Harry became famous overnight for defeating Voldemort that night."

    Upon hearing this, both Sirius and Snape both took shallow breaths, their lips tightly pursed, showing a distressed expression.

    Bryan lowered his head and took a sip of tea, calmly bing a good listener. Some things he knew, while others he was hearing for the first time.

    Dumbledore recounted everything in a somber tone.

    When he heard that Lily Evans had sacrificed her life to form an extremely powerful protective magic in Harry''s blood, Professor Snape looked as if he was struck by lightning. Bryan could feel the agony gushing from those hollow dark eyes, those intense emotions that not even lumency could fully conceal.

    Bryan clearly understood that this anguish did not solely stem from the death of his beloved, but also from the fact that the baby that Lily Evans had sacrificed her life to protect was the son of his lifelong enemy. This almost indicated the deep love Lily Evans had for James Potter.

    "So, it wasn''t Harry, but Lily--"Sirius murmured in a daze, "It was Lily''s magic that defeated Voldemort."

    "It was Lily Potter''s pure, unconditional love for her son Harry that defeated Voldemort," Dumbledore corrected Sirius, his voice filled with sadness, "Love is a great power, an unparalleled force, and I believe Voldemort will never be able to understand it."

    Sirius appeared deeply moved by these words, slowly sinking into a chair, his hands covering his face as his shoulders trembled weakly.

    He would never escape the guilt that weighed upon him ¨C the realization that it was his mistake that had ultimately led to Lily''s sacrifice.

    Sirius''s remorse did not surprise Bryan, but Snape''s ''regretful'' demeanor was quite astonishing to him.

    <em>''Could it be that Professor Snape had also, in some way, ''contributed'' to the Potters'' tragic demise?''</em>

    "But Voldemort is finished, isn''t he, Dumbledore? The protective magic you ced on Harry--" After a long silence, Sirius raised his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Dumbledore, his voice hoarse like a desert traveler who hadn''t drunk water for days, "Harry no longer needs the blood protection provided by those Muggles. He canpletely--"

    "Do you really believe that Voldemort is truly finished?" Dumbledore''s voice suddenly became firm, and his question left Sirius speechless once again.

    "I have a question, an academic one, Headmaster Dumbledore--" Bryan asked thoughtfully, "If I got rid of the Dursleys, would that mean the protective magic you ced on Harry would be ineffective?"

    Bryan''s question immediately drew angry res from Sirius and Snape, but Dumbledore knew that Bryan''s curiosity indeed stemmed from a purely academic interest. After a brief silence, Dumbledore responded, "Indeed, but that is only anotheryer of protection I ced on the basis of Lily''s magic. Even if my magic fails, the magic in Harry''s blood will continue to exist, and Voldemort will still be unable to touch or harm Harry."

    "What about his followers?"

    "This protection only exists between Harry and Voldemort, but I''m not particrly worried about that possibility, Bryan. If you knew Tom as well as I do, you''ll understand that to regain his reputation, he will have to act himself."

    "If I''m not mistaken, that kind of contract-like magic has a time limit--"

    "Until hees of age," Dumbledore gazed deeply into Bryan''s eyes, his tone suddenly bing vague, "Of course. Without a doubt, we need to be absolutely certain, Bryan. You know the connection between Harry and Tom... so we may need new preventive measures."

    "I understand what you mean, Dumbledore--" Bryan frowned, "But things don''t necessarily have to be soplicated. What I mean is, Voldemort cannot possibly confront us simultaneously. Hmm..."

    Halfway through, Bryan suddenly seemed to realize something, he changed his tone and became somewhat hesitant, "Never mind, I won''t interfere with your ns. Who knows what might happen in the future."

    Sirius and Snape both realized that Dumbledore and Bryan were discussing some extremely important matters rted to protecting Harry, but they couldn''t understand it. Furthermore, Sirius and Snape both understood that the two ''enigmatic men'' before them had no intention of exining what they were discussing.

    When Sirius and Snape left, they both looked dejected and lost.

    "Well, Headmaster Dumbledore--" After discussing the previous topic for a few sentences, Bryan asked, "You mentioned earlier that there was an important matter you needed to discuss with me. What is it?"

    "Actually, it''s like this¨C" Dumbledore''s tone became cheerful once again, "This matter is currently top secret, and only those directly involved are allowed to disclose it. Most of my energy has been consumed by thistely¡ªan ancient event that hasn''t been held for many years will be held again the next school year¨C"

    "An ancient event?" Bryan raised his eyebrows, and when he heard the name of the event from Dumbledore''s mouth, even the mentally prepared Bryan couldn''t help but show a hint of astonishment, "The Triwizard Tournament? You mean thepetition that has been banned for centuries due to its extremely high casualty rate?"

    "That''s the one--" Dumbledore said with a smile, "For centuries, people have tried to revive the tournament several times, but each attempt was unsessful. However, our Ministry of Magic''s International Magical Cooperation Department and Department of Magical Games and Sports believe the time is ripe for another attempt. The Ministry has already taken concrete steps. We and the two other outstanding wizarding schools¡ªyou must know, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang¡ªhave reached a consensus, and the International Confederation of Wizards has also secretly passed a resolution."

    "Remarkable," Bryan eximed in admiration. He indeed did not expect that this ancient event, which had already entered the annals of magical history, would one day be revived.

    "But what do you need me to do?" Bryan asked.

    "Oh, although we''ve reached a basic consensus, there are still many issues," Dumbledore said with a helpless shake of his bushy eyebrows.

    "First, the biggest disagreement we face is which wizarding school will host the event¡ªI''m certain I possess the virtues of humility and courtesy, Bryan, but if I don''t fight tenaciously for Hogwarts to be the chosen venue in this matter, I''m afraid the Board of Governors will once again attempt to remove me from my position as Headmaster,"

    Dumbledore took a sip of tea, not minding the tea leaves in his mouth. After a moment''s contemtion, he continued to speak to Bryan,

    "For some time now, we¡ªmeaning the headmasters of the other two schools, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, and myself¡ªhave been tirelessly presenting our respective advantages to the International Confederation of Wizards. Oh, I haven''t encountered such a fierce and passionate debate in many years. For an old man like myself, it''s truly a formidable burden to bear. The self-rmendation reasons provided by each of the three schools are all exceedinglypelling, leaving the International Confederation of Wizards in a dilemma, unable to reach a decisive conclusion. Ultimately, considering the inherent danger of the event, and to ensure the utmost safety of every young wizard participating, the Confederation has mandated that each of the three schools must provide aprehensive ''safety n.''"

    Seeing Bryan''s expression of sudden realization, Dumbledore smiled and said, "You are the Head of the Student Safety Office at Hogwarts, aren''t you, Bryan? I think you should take your carefully prepared n and go convince those stubborn people."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0358 Troublesome

    0358 Troublesome

    Dumbledore hastened his footsteps, his dazzling robes billowing behind him as he eagerly made his way back to his private chambers, yearning to immerse himself in the soothing embrace of a refreshing bath. His weary travels had left him utterly fatigued, and he longed for the rejuvenating relief that only the cold waters could provide.

    Dumbledore had indeed found him a good job.

    Meanwhile, within the confines of his office, Bryan leaned back upon the luxurious sofa, his posture exuding a pensive air as he pondered over the formidable task that Dumbledore had just given him.

    This was, without a doubt, no simple errand; it was a massive responsibility troubled withplexities and challenges.

    The specific details of the Triwizard Tournament''s events remained shrouded in the veil of utmost secrecy. Even the organizingmittee had yet to determine the precise nature of the events that would be conducted. These pivotal decisions would only be made after the selection of the host, whereupon a meticulous process involving the drawing of lots from multiple methodically crafted events, each tailored to the unique strengths and capabilities of the three renowned schools.

    Yet, against this environment of uncertainty, Bryan was expected to produce aprehensive and robust safety n, without the foreknowledge of the tasks thaty ahead, which seemed an unreasonably lofty order.

    Nevertheless, Bryan recognized that he had no choice but to acquiesce to this heavy responsibility. As Dumbledore had so eloquently stated, it was his solemn duty as the Headmaster to secure this honor for the school. And as an alumnus of Hogwarts, as well as one who held a significant position intertwined with matters of safety and security, Bryan was duty-bound to exert his utmost efforts in this endeavor.

    Failure to do so would undoubtedly incur the wrath and criticism of countless wizards within the British magicalmunity, who would demand his head on a tter should Hogwarts lose the highly sought-after honor to host due to inadequate safety measures.

    Moreover, Dumbledore informed him that he must prepare the safety proposal within the appointed timeframe, as this matter was of grave importance. His n required the approval of the Ministry of Magic, specifically from the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

    <strong><em>Barty Crouch Sr.</em></strong>

    The mere thought of that name made the pacing Bryan''s brow to furrow involuntarily, his features contorting in a pensive frown.

    While there existed no personal grievances between them, and Bryan even harbored a bit of admiration for Barty Crouch. However, since Bryan staunchly supported Amelia Bones, they had effectively be ''political opponents.''

    Speaking of which, Barty Crouch had indeed been quite fortunate in his circumstances.

    Initially, due to the wrongful imprisonment of the infamous Sirius ck, Senior Crouch should have faced a wave of misfortune. ording to the preconceived n of Fudge, he would have directly utilized this incident to expel Barty Crouch Sr. from the ranks of the Wizengamot, and then stir public outrage to strip him of his position as the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

    But who could have predicted that Crouch''s radical statements within the Wizengamot, coupled with the mysterious demise of Peter Pettigrew, would somehow bolster his standing in the eyes of some of the most ardently justice-driven citizens?

    Barty managed to secure his position, and if the Triwizard Tournament proceeded smoothly with Hogwarts as the host, this remarkable achievement might enable him to stand a formidableeback and even vie for the position of Minister for Magic.

    But Barty Crouch''s dominance did not align with Bryan''s interests.

    <em>''Should he seize this opportunity to sabotage Hogwarts''s chances...''</em> Bryan instantly dismissed that thought. He could not, in good conscience, treat principles and integrity as trivial games like those yed by the unscrupulous politicians.

    Dumbledore''s abrupt assignment had indeed disrupted many of Bryan''s carefullyid ns. His cherished ''physical education'' ss had just entered a substantive phase, and abandoning it now would render all previous training efforts utterly wasted.

    As the sky gradually darkened, its vibrant hues fading into the inky ckness of night, Bryan approached the window, inhaling deeply the crisp, rapidly cooling air. He massaged his brow, his gaze sweeping across the lush grounds that stretched before him.

    Making the most of the waning daylight hours before the evening meal, many young witches and wizards frisked and yed energetically upon the lushwns. Within the Quidditch pitch, encircled by towering stands, a few dedicated Hufflepuff students faithfully followed Bryan''s instructions, diligentlypleting the day''s running exercise.

    A sudden chuckle escaped Bryan''s lips as he turned towards the door, making his way down for dinner.

    In that moment, he found himself empathizing with Professor McGonagall''s frustration ¨C working under a run-away headmaster was no easy feat.

    Harry and his friends dared not venture too close, instead concealing themselves around the corner of the third-floor staircase as they anxiously watched Sirius stride into Professor Watson''s office, his figure disappearing from their line of sight.

    Earlier, Sirius had been resolute in his determination to confront Snape on Harry''s behalf, although he had assured Harry that his intentions were merely to discuss with Snape about his conduct as a professor. However, after knocking several times without receiving any response from Snape''s office, Sirius could not resist using rather impolite means to force open the unweing door.

    As they surveyed the bizarre array of nts and animal specimens suspended in multicolored liquids lining the walls, Harry and Sirius simultaneously furrowed their brows, their expressions mirroring one another in disgust.

    The inner private storage room also bore no signs of upancy. As the two spected whether ise Zabini had provided them with false information, Professor Watson''s shining Patronus materialized through the wall, hovering before them.

    "Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore¡ª"

    As Harry and Sirius hurried towards the third floor, they encountered Hermione and Ron, who were rushing to find the two, on the first floor. Hermione panted, her words tumbling forth in breathless swiftness,

    "They''re both¡ªin Professor Watson''s office."

    "Interesting¡ª" In response to Hermione''s remark, Sirius merely let out a cold, sarcasticugh. "Did the sniveling viin run to tattle first?"

    "It doesn''t seem like it, Si-Sirius¡ª"

    Despite Sirius''s repeated requests, Ron stammered, still feeling an air of unease when addressing a professor by his first name.

    "Professor Dumbledore, at least seemed to be in a good mood, he didn''t appear angry or upset."

    "I''m fine, Sirius, really!"

    Fearless even in the lion''s den, Sirius prepared to confront Snape himself. However, Harry firmly grasped his arm, his gaze resolute and unflinching.

    "You can''ty a hand on Snape in front of Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson. Please, Sirius, don''t give him any excuses!"

    In truth, what Harry truly wanted to say was that he would rather endure Snape''s torment a hundred times over than have Sirius repeatedly confront Snape, risking expulsion from Hogwarts by Dumbledore.

    Perhaps it was the sincerity that shone forth from Harry''s eyes that moved Sirius. He seemed to calm, offering Harry a reassuring smile before wrenching his arm free and striding towards Professor Watson''s office.

    The waiting was always the most agonizing part.

    Harry and his friends remained at the corner of the staircase, not daring to venture too close, as within that office were the two of the most powerful wizards in the world. They didn''t dare hope that Professors Dumbledore and Professor Watson would fail to notice them eavesdropping. Yet, they could not resist straining their ears.

    The passing students cast strange, inquisitive looks their way, but Harry paid them no heed, his mind consumed by a constant worry for Sirius''s fate.

    "Don''t worry, Harry¡ª" Hermione''s gentle voice broke through his trance as she patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson won''t be unreasonable. They surely know Sirius only wants to help you ovee¡ªProfessor Snape''s bias. He never intended to cause trouble."

    In truth, Hermione''s im was not entirely objective. While it was undeniable that Sirius did indeed intend to help Harry in dealing with Snape''s unfair treatment, his personal dislike for Snape was also an irrefutable fact.

    Time ticked by excruciatingly, each second feeling like an eternity as it crawled past, until what seemed like an entire day had passed beforemotion finally came from a few dozen feet away.

    The instant the door hinges creaked, Harry surged forth, but after taking just two steps, his body froze, his expression hardening into a mask of grim determination.

    The first to emerge was Snape himself, hisplexion worse than Harry had ever witnessed, and the professor seemed to have suffered a severe blow, his usually brisk and purposeful pace bing somewhat unsteady, his movements tinged with a discernible fragility.

    <em>''Could it be that Snape was the one dismissed?!''</em>

    Had it not been for Sirius''s equally crestfallen appearance as he followed in Snape''s steps, Harry might have believed such a scenario to be true.

    Ignoring Snape''s fleeting, sidelong nce as he passed, Harry went straight to support the slightly weakened Sirius, steadying him with a gentle grasp.

    "What happened, Sirius?" Harry asked anxiously, his emerald eyes searching his face for answers.

    "You two didn''t...I mean, you didn''t fight there, did you?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0359 Results of Training

    0359 Results of Training

    The overwhelming sense of disappointment and dejection weighed heavily upon Harry''s shoulders. He had never imagined that had never imagined things would turn out so badly.

    Just the previous Saturday, Sirius had told him at the Three Broomsticks that he would take him away from the Dursleys during the summer holidays. This had made him very happy and excited, as he had longed to leave the Dursleys for years, and now, that dream was finally about toe true. But unexpectedly, just a few dayster, Sirius changed his mind.

    After Siriuse out of Professor Watson''s office that day, he informed Harry of his new decision.

    He believed it would be better for Harry to remain at the Muggle residence after all, as they were his only living blood rtives. While Sirius had vowed to improve Harry''s circumstances through a frank dialogue with the Dursleys, the sudden reversal had left Harry feeling utterly betrayed and helpless.

    Harry couldn''t help but connect Sirius''s change of heart with Professor Watson and Professor Dumbledore.

    After all, the previous week at the Three Broomsticks when Sirius had brought up the idea, Professor Watson had subtly expressed his disapproval.

    But this was simply ridiculous. Who gave them the right to make decisions on his behalf?

    For several consecutive days, Harry had been in a bad mood during Professor Watson''s physical education sses, even seriously considering skipping them altogether.

    "I advise you to calm down, Harry¡ª"

    After no longer using the Time-Turner, Hermione''s schedule had be much more manageable. However, she still had to attend several more sses than the others, and to save time, she had now learned to walk while reading books andpleting some simpler assignments.

    On an evening when they needed to attend the physical education ss, a group of Gryffindors made their way to the room filled with suits of armor. As Harry angrily expressed his thoughts, Hermione briefly looked up from ''A Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi,'' saying rationally:

    "Think about Pansy Parkinson from Slytherin."

    Pansy Parkinson was a very annoying girl from Slytherin. Of course, hardly anyone who mingled with Malfoy wasn''t unpleasant.

    Generally, the young wizards from Slytherin tended to support Professor Watson because they considered him one of their own. And, the gradually well-known Professor Watson over the past year or two had undoubtedly made the Slytherin students extraordinarily proud. Harry had heard Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff say that the Slytherins were eagerly awaiting Dumbledore''s departure, as they believed the next Headmaster of Hogwarts would definitely be Professor Watson.

    Professor Watson''s demeanor often made one forget that he is from Slytherin, Harry himself didn''t object this¡ªif, in the future, Dumbledore did have no energy as he grows older, and Professor Watson took over as Headmaster. However, the thought of these annoying stinky snakes in Slytherin already harboring such intentions was very disgusting to him.

    Perhaps unable to tolerate the torment of Dungbombs any longer, Pansy Parkinson dared to skip ss, even after Professor Watson had made it clear that the time to drop the course had passed.

    And Professor Watson was clearly a man who wouldn''t tolerate any insolence. After their training ended, he marched straight into the Slytherinmon room and ordered the female prefect of Slytherin to drag Pansy out of the dormitory, then trained her alone for two hours.

    Rumor had it that Pansy spent that night in the hospital wing.

    Thinking about her fate, Harry shuddered a few times, dismissing his rebellious thoughts.

    Now, Professor Watson had set new requirements for his physical education ss.

    He recorded the distance each person could advance under the Dungbomb''s attacks and demanded progress in every sspared to thest, even if the improvement was only by an inch. Otherwise, he would make you keep practicing without letting you return to the dormitory to sleep.

    And Harry''s experience in Potions ss was another major reason for his bad mood.

    Harry didn''t know what happened in Professor Watson''s office that day, but Snape was clearly taking revenge, increasingly tormenting Harry during Potions lessons. And because all of Harry''s sswork received zero marks, the length of his Potions essays had to be at least one-third longer than the other students''s!

    This time, it wasn''t Sirius who helped Harry out of his predicament, but Professor McGonagall, as she could no longer tolerate the abnormal rate at which the gems representing points were depleting from the Gryffindor hourss.

    The advent of summer''s approach was heralded by the year''s first thunderstorm, its rain pouring relentlessly over the Hogwarts grounds over the weekend.

    Ron and Seamus had spent half the afternoon ying Gobstones in themon room, while Harry was just watching, and did not participate, as the penalties for losing reminded him of the rotten stench of the dungbombs and its stinky liquid. It wasn''t until they grew tired of Gobstones and switched to Wizard''s Chess that Harry became interested.

    Of course, when it came to the skill level of Wizard''s Chess, Harry and Seamusbined couldn''t match Ron. Under the rule of "loser''s penalty," Ron had consistently remained seated, while Harry and Seamus took turns.

    After being checkmated by Ron''s "knight" once again, Harry smacked his lips in dissatisfaction. ncing out the window, he realized that the gloomy day had started to take on a dusky hue.

    "Oh, running¡ª"

    The words escaped Harry''s lips in a panicked exmation as the realization dawned upon him that the hour of the evening meal was rapidly approaching. The watch he was still wearing told Harry that it was almost dinnertime, and he got up in a panic.

    Quite a few of the students participating in the physical education ss would schedule Professor Watson''s required half-hour daily run right after sses ended and before dinner, as this was the most convenient time, and will not have much impact on their other schedules.

    "Good luck, Harry¡ª"

    Seamus offered Harry a sympathetic shrug, his gaze shifting momentarily towards the torrential downpour thatshed against the castle''s windows, the droplets creating a hypnotic sound upon the ss panes.

    Professor Watson hadn''t said they could skip running just because of rain or snow.

    Surveying themon room, Harry noted the conspicuous absence of Neville, while the mischievous Weasley twins, Fred and George, appeared to have momentarily vanished into the air. However, his gaze soon settled upon Ginny and Hermione, seated in a secluded corner of the room, their heads bowed in hushed conversation.

    "What are you two talking about?" Harry asked as he walked over.

    "Penelope Clearwater¡ª" Hermione''s response was tinged with a hint of dissatisfaction as she momentarily lifted her gaze to meet Harry''s inquisitive stare. "Luna told me she''s often seen Penelope sitting alone in themon roomtely, lost in thought."

    Harry''s brow furrowed in bewilderment, his mind struggling to grasp the meaning of Hermione''s words.

    "So?"

    Boys could be rather oblivious in such matters, and Harry didn''t quite understand what Hermione was trying to say.

    Hermione''s expression showed a deepening sense of exasperation, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she regarded Harry with a mixture of disappointment and resignation. "So?" she echoed, her toneced with a gentle rebuke. "I will mention this to Ginny, hoping she could talk some sense into Percy. I don''t know what issues they''re having, but¡ªweren''t they always on good terms?"

    A fleeting notion crossed Harry''s mind that perhaps Hermione was being a bit nosy, yet his better judgment told him not to voice his thoughts, as he felt that Hermione seemed to believe that all boys were as heartless as Percy.

    The group left themon room, heading to the Quidditch pitch for their run. With Hermione around, Harry wasn''t too worried about getting drenched in the downpour. He knew she would know many practical spells to help them avoid embarrassing situations.

    The ceaseless rainfall that had persisted throughout the day had transformed the marble area of the entrance hall into an ice rink, with numerous students who had passed through slipping t on their backs. Harry and his friends could hear screams of pain one after another when they reached the second floor.

    "It''s a mess. Isn''t there anyone to maintain order around here?" Hermione muttered under her breath, her brow furrowing in disapproval as she surveyed the chaotic scene unfolding below.

    From their elevated vantage point on the second-floor tform, her gaze was drawn to the lonely figure of Neville at the castle''s entrance, his shoulders slumped in a posture of mncholy as he faced the rain-soaked world. The dejected slouch of his shoulders showed the weight of his worries, and Hermione''s lips pursed involuntarily, about to extend an invitation for Neville to join theirpany. However, before the words could pass her lips, a shrill, mockingugh pierced the air, shattering the tranquil moment and drawing all eyes towards its source.

    It was Peeves, the infamous poltergeist, who had suddenly appeared above the entrance hall, floating at the same elevated level as Harry and his friends.

    Harry, Hermione, and Ginny all noticed the pile of water-filled balloons the size of fists that Peeves was clutching, and they immediately realized what the prankster ghost intended to do.

    Peeves instantly fixed his gaze on Neville, who was closest to the entrance, the muscles in his mischievous, broad face tightening with anticipation.

    Before Harry, Hermione, or Ginny could utter a word of warning, Peeves struck with lightning swiftness, seizing one of the water balloons and hurling it with tremendous force towards the unsuspecting Neville.

    <em>''How strange!''</em>

    Watching the water balloon''s trajectory gliding through the air, a strange thought crossed Harry and the others'' minds¡ªwhy did the balloon Peeves had thrown with full force seem to be moving so slowly?

    Harry''s lips parted, but then he immediately realized the water balloon''s speed wasn''t slow at all, because before he could utter the first syble, Peeves''s balloon was already only two feet away from the back of Neville''s head!

    And under the sympathetic gaze of those witnessing the scene, Neville suddenly moved. Harry saw that despite the familiar bewilderment on Neville''s face as he turned around, his hand had already risen from his side, and at thest possible moment, he precisely caught Peeves''s water balloon.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    The ensuing impact was deafening, the water balloon Neville had nimbly caught and returned tearing forth with equal vigor, grazing Peeves''s cheek before exploding against the entrance hall''s ceiling in a spectacr burst of water and shattered hopes.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0360 At 8 oâ€™clock

    0360 At 8 o¡¯clock

    The relentless torrential downpour raged furiously outside the ancient castle walls, the never-ending patter of raindrops purring monotonously for an entire day, tormenting the ragged nerves of those within it. Yet, just a few steps away, across the threshold of a door, the entrance hall hadpsed into an eerie, unsettling stillness, a stark contrast to the boisterous torrent outside it.

    Neville''s current frozen posture bore an uncanny resemnce to that of a seasoned baseball pitcher Harry had once seen on a television screen, his arm suspended in mid-throw, as if unleashing an imaginary water balloon, unmoving, while his face, now considerably slimmer, still bore a dazed expression, as if he hadn''t quite grasped what he''d just done.

    "Oh, damn, that was awesome!" Ginny eximed, her eyes zing with admiration as she witnessed the entire incident unfold before her.

    Hearing this, Harry, standing beside her, couldn''t help but furrow his brow in perplexed confusion. Ron''s little sister''s admiration for him was almostmon knowledge, an open secret. But today, she was praising another boy, right before his very eyes. Of course, Harry had to admit, Neville''s split-second reaction was indeed impressively smooth and effortless. But still,

    This was Neville they were talking about!

    Over the past three years, thanks to Snape''s relentless propagation of scathing rumors, Neville''s clumsiness had be the well-known stuff of legend, even among the other houses. But that smooth, dashing, fluid catching and throwing motion just now ¨C what was that all about? It defied everything Harry hade to expect from the bumbling Neville.

    "Neville, you little brat!" Peeves screeched, his shrill voice shattering the tense silence. While others were still stunned by Neville''s astonishing performance, the mischievous poltergeist reacted first, interpreting Neville''s throw as a deliberate provocation, and flew into an unrestrained rage!

    Peeves snatched off his bell-topped hat, the space inside seeming to possess an extraordinary capacity, much like their Physical Education ssroom. His crooked hands left trails as he ceaselessly pulled out water balloons from the hat''s seemingly bottomless depths, and the entrance hall was instantly filled with the popping sounds of bursting like firecrackers.

    "Oh, help!" Neville''s reaction was much more normal now as he cried out, his earlier bravado evaporating as panic etched itself across his face. He scurried to dodge Peeves''s relentless barrage of water balloons, joining the other young wizards who couldn''t escape the entrance hall in time.

    "Oh¡ª" Seeing Neville lose his cool so quickly, Ginny sighed, the stars in her eyes flickering and fading as she shrugged her shoulders in resignation. "This is the Neville I know," she muttered, her earlier awe dissipating like mist in the morning sun.

    "Harry¡ª" Hermione''s voice carried a hushed urgency as she stared intently at Neville from the second-floor railing, her expression serious. "I don''t know if you noticed¡ª"

    "Of course," Harry affirmed, his gaze following hers, a silent understanding passing between them.

    The water-soaked marble floor was as slippery as ice, making it virtually impossible for the others to effectively evade in such treacherous conditions. In fact, they could barely stand, their feet sliding helplessly beneath them. Yet Neville, though stumbling clumsily, his graceful movements now gone, had not fallen even once.

    After all, the slipperiness of the water-drenched marble wasparable to that of the foul-smelling secretion left behind by dungbombs during their Physical Education sses. To avoid intimate facial contact with the rotten liquid on the ground, every young wizard tried his best to avoid falling down, a lesson Neville seemed to have learned through harsh experience.

    "Seems to be having some effect, isn''t it?" a voice from behind made the trio jump, when they were closely observing Neville.

    "Oh, Professor Watson, sorry, I didn''t notice you!" Hermione said apologetically in a hushed tone, her cheeks flushing slightly.

    Meanwhile, Harry tensed up, a look of slight embarrassment flickering across his features. Recently, Harry had been taking out his frustration over his shattered dream of moving out of the Dursleys oppressive household on Professors Dumbledore and Professor Watson. He even harbored a bit ofresentment towards Sirius for breaking his promise.

    "I came down for dinner¡ª" Professor Watson said with a warm smile, his lips curving in a reassuring arc. "What about you?"

    "We¡ª" Hermione gestured towards the rain-streaked entrance with a subtle tilt of her head, her eyes following the motion. "We usually finish our daily run before dinner, but Peeves blocked the entrance."

    Professor Watson nodded slightly in understanding, the fabric of his sleeve slipping down as he grasped his wand, which was about to slip from his grasp. With a gentle wave, the water balloons Peeves had just released burst into brilliant golden mes with a resounding bang. The orange bow tie adorning Peeves''s bulbous nose began emitting thick plumes of ck smoke from the burning mes.

    "Who dares!" Peeves shrieked, his vicious eyes darting around rapidly, wide with outrage at this brazen act of boldness. "Who dares to disturb the great Peeves while punishing these naughty little brats!"

    Upon locking eyes with Bryan standing on the second-floor tform, whose arm was still raised, Peeves''s expression morphed in the blink of an eye. The sassy defiance drained from hisical, short and fat body as he straightened to attention, transforming into a facade of utmost courtesy.

    "The esteemed Professor Watson!" Peeves eximed, his tone now ttering. "How can I be of service?"

    Peeves''s sudden shift in demeanor, from a brash bully to a submissiveckey, elicited a chuckle from Harry''s lips.

    It wasmon knowledge that the only entity at Hogwarts capable of instilling fear in the incurable Peeves was the Bloody Baron, the Slytherin ghost. Typically, Peeves was a bully, not even showing much respect for Headmaster Dumbledore. However, ever since Professor Watson had single-handedly eliminated the werewolf pack led by the notorious Greyback, there was one more person whose words carried the weight.

    "I don''t need anything, Peeves¡ª" Professor Watson said, his gentle smile never wavering. "Just asking you not to cause trouble, alright?"

    "Your wish is mymand!" Peeves proimed with an absurd, sweeping bow before swiftly vanishing through the ceiling, disappearing from everyone''s sight as quickly as he had arrived.

    "There, problem solved," Professor Watson said cheerfully, the corners of his eyes creasing with satisfaction. "I''m going to enjoy my dinner now; you all carry on¡ªoh, to be honest, I''m quite hungry. Some matters upied my mind, and I seem to have forgotten lunch today."

    With that, Professor Watson turned and headed down the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the hall. But midway, he suddenly stopped, turned to look at Hermione, and after a brief pause scattered by the patter of rain, gestured with a nod of his chin.

    "No sses tonight, Miss Granger. If you have the time, I''d like you toe to my office before eight o''clock."

    Hermione opened her mouth, but before she could ask the reason why he summoned her, she saw Professor Watson talking with Neville in the entrance hall about the same thing.

    "And you too, Mr. Longbottom. I hope you can make it by then."

    "It''s not extra training, is it?" Neville, his robes still drenched and clinging to his slight frame, turned pale as he looked uncertainly at Hermione descending the stairs. This very thought seemed to fill him with dread.

    "Don''t be silly, Neville," Ginny said briskly, a hint of her earlier admiration creeping back into her tone as she said to him. "If you need extra training, none of us would be spared."

    The relentless downpour showed no signs of stopping, the surface of the ck Lake already spilling over its banks and flooding the grounds in a steadily encroaching tide. The thunderous roar of the surging waves crashing against the cliffs resounded like muffled thunder, making the young wizards within the castle''s walls feel uneasy.

    At seven-fifty, Hermione and Neville arrived on the third floor, where Professor Watson''s office was located, only to encounter another figure ¨C Luna Lovegood.

    Luna was a second-year student, a year below them, but thanks to Professor Watson''s Physical Education sses, she had be acquainted with several Gryffindors.

    "Good evening¡ª"

    The beer bottle cap ne around Luna''s neck jingled merrily as she was the first to spot Hermione and Neville approaching from the other end of the dimly lit corridor, raising her hand in greeting.

    "Good evening, Luna¡ª" Hermione replied, her gaze unconsciously skimming over the strange ne, her eyebrows furrowing slightly into a perplexed frown.

    Hermione simply couldn''t understand why Professor Flitwick allowed Luna to maintain such an oundish, entric appearance. If she were in Gryffindor, Professor McGonagall would certainly have something stern to say.

    However, recognizing that true friends should respect each other''s personal choices, Hermione made noment on Luna''s unorthodox sense of style, though her eyes showed a hint of confusion,

    "Professor Watson asked you toe too, didn''t he? Did he tell you why he called us here?"

    "He didn''t say¡ª" Luna replied her misty silver eyes had a dreamy look but her tone was particrly sincere. "I guess he wants to teach us how to get rid of Wrackspurts."

    Hermione and Neville exchanged nces, silently agreeing not toment.

    "But I think he''s wasting his time¡ª" Luna made a swatting motion as she pushed open the office door, "There are no tricks to deal with these creatures. We just have to get used to them."

    The sudden, harsh downpour had caused a drastic drop in temperature, and a roaring fire crackled merrily in the office''s hearth.

    Professor Watson sat behind his desk in a high-backed leather chair, his chin resting on inteced fingers as he stared at the haphazard pile of parchments before him. A pained, furrowed expression creased his brow, etching deep lines across his forehead as he frowned in intense concentration.

    Hermione was all too familiar with that particr look ¨C it was the same helpless, almost despairing expression Harry and Ron had whenever they struggled to fulfill the demanding word count requirements for their History of Magic essays. Or when faced with Professor Trwney''s weird demands for detailed predictions about their own fated demises, no matter how unbelievable.

    "Have a seat¡ª" Professor Watson gestured vaguely with one hand, tossing his quill into the waiting ink bottle with the other as he nced up at their arrival.

    As Hermione approached, she couldn''t resist a quick, sneaky nce at the disorganized files littering the professor''s desk like a minefield of paperwork. Onerge, yellowing parchment appeared to be a meticulously detailed bird''s-eye view of the expansive Hogwarts grounds and surroundingnds. While in the top right corner of another stack, a small section bore an uncanny resemnce to a wizarding photograph of Madam Pomfrey.

    "You must be wondering why I called you here, so let me get straight to the point¡ª"

    With a casual wave of his wand, he conjured three steaming mugs of pumpkin juice before them.

    Bryan then massaged his throbbing temples as he said to the young trio, his voice tinged with weariness.

    "Due to certain matters, I will have to leave Hogwarts for a period of time. I can''t say for sure when I''ll be back. But during my absence, I need to ensure that the Physical Education sses can proceed smoothly. So¡ª"

    Bryan spread his hands open in a calming gesture, his calloused palms facing upwards as he paused for emphasis.

    "I''d like you three to serve as teaching assistants for those sses. What do you think?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0361 Why us?

    0361 Why us?

    The flickering candlelight cast wavering shadows across Hermione''s pensive features as she blinked herrge, cinnamon-hued eyes thoughtfully, her brow furrowing slightly. However, she wasn''t particrly surprised by the professor''s words. It wasn''t an umon urrence. Hagrid would asionally leave Hogwarts on business, and Professor Dumbledore frequently left Hogwarts as well to handle his own affairs.

    Hermione''s gaze drifted towards the corner of Professor Watson''s desk, where a thick, haphazard stack of unopened lettersy, their envelopes adorned with intricate wax seals and elegant calligraphy. One could guess as to the numerous academic conferences or high-end meetings to which the professor was regrly invited.

    <em>''But teaching assistants¡ª''</em>

    Hermione''s train of thought was interrupted by the sight of Neville fidgeting uneasily in his seat, his fingers twisting anxiously in hisp. Instinctively, his wide, earnest eyes sought out Hermione''s, hoping to get a hint as to how to proceed, but Hermione also looked bewildered.

    If it were Charms or Transfiguration ss, Hermione felt confident she could handle it. In fact, she would be overjoyed, as it would represent the professor''s recognition of her abilities. But Professor Watson''s physical education ss... Hermione was puzzled. What could she do?

    In stark contrast, Luna''s expression remained one of calm indifference, as though the prospect of participation or non-participation held no particr significance for her. Herrge, silvery-grey eyes showed a distant, dreamy quality, as if her mind had already wandered to realms unseen by eyes.

    "What''s the matter, you''re not happy about it?" Bryan raised an inquisitive eyebrow, though his face remained calm and wasn''t particrly stern.

    Hermione hesitated for a moment before nervously saying, "Professor Watson, could you tell me why you chose us? What I mean is, we''re not the best students, are we? Currently, the top performer is Cedric. Oh, and Harry and Malfoy are doing well too."

    "Temporary victories or losses are not my main concern," Bryan shook his head calmly, his voice resonating with a measured certainty. "Of course, I do need to exin to you. First, Mr. Longbottom¡ª"

    Bryan''s gaze shifted towards Neville, taking in the sight of the young man clenching his fists nervously, his knuckles whitening with the intensity of his grip. A gentle, reassuring smile curved Bryan''s lips, making his expression more mellow and gentle.

    "Don''t be nervous, Mr. Longbottom. Hmm, I chose you because of your outstanding talent. Talentes in many forms. For instance, due to an intelligent mind, focused on studying, and a reverence and thirst for knowledge, Miss Granger excels academically. Simrly, Harry became the youngest Seeker in a century thanks to his sharp reflexes and physical bnce.

    "As for you, Mr. Longbottom, your magical talents arecking, but in terms of physical abilities, you may even surpass Harry. It''s just that certain weaknesses in your personality have overshadowed your exceptional qualities, only allowing them to be revealed under specific circumstances."

    Neville blinked rapidly, his eyes widening in bewilderment, as if struggling toprehend the implications of Professor Watson''s words.

    Hermione, however, understood the essence of the statement, yet remained unconvinced, her skepticism evident in the purse of her lips and the subtle narrowing of her eyes.

    Professor Watson probably meant that Neville''s timid personality prevented him from showcasing his courage, overshadowing his innate strengths. But so what? Those Muggle athletes, though undoubtedly possessing exceptional talents, could never hope to be outstanding wizards, their abilities rendered moot in the arcane realm of magic.

    Seemingly aware of Hermione''s lingering doubts, Professor Watson pursed his lips contemtively before continuing his exnation.

    "Godric Gryffindor, the founder of Gryffindor House, was himself a valiant warrior. He seamlessly integrated the ancient magical arts with thebat techniques of the Muggle knights, forging a synthesis and used them to defeat many formidable opponents of that era. Mr. Longbottom¡ª"

    Bryan paused, his prating gaze turning towards the somewhat startled Neville. "At least in terms ofbat skills, I believe you have the innate talent to develop in that direction. Moreover, this will serve as an exercise for you to shed your reserve and reveal your true self more fully."

    The significance of Professor Watson''s words hung heavily in the air. If word of his belief in Neville''s potential to follow the legendary Godric Gryffindor''s footsteps were to spread, then poor Neville would undoubtedly face no small amount of ridicule and skepticism. But this was Professor Watson. He wouldn''t joke about such things!

    Hermione turned her head slowly, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and newfound wonder as she stared at Neville''s round, flustered face. It was as if she were truly seeing him for the first time.

    "As for you, Miss Granger, I''ve already mentioned your strengths," Professor Watson nodded towards Hermione. "But I missed one crucial point. Maintaining order and ensuring faithfulness to the rules is an extremely rare ability. After I leave, I can foresee some young wizards cking off or even causing some trouble. For this reason, I need someone with an unwavering sense of discipline and authority to maintain control within the ssroom. For this, I will grant you certain powers akin to those of a prefect. You will have the ability to deduct points from or assign detentions to unruly young wizards, and Argus will cooperate fully with you in enforcing these measures."

    Typically, it was not until their fifth year at Hogwarts that outstanding students, possessing both academic excellence and exemry character, were selected to serve as prefects ¨C a position granting them a measure of professorial authority. Hermione had never heard of a professor giving such significant power to a third-year student!

    With great power, however, came an equal measure of responsibility.

    In an instant, Hermione''s mind raced, envisioning which students might be tempted to ck off or cause disruptions during the training sessions. Would she truly be capable of exerting control over them, of enforcing the rules with an iron fist?

    Even as Hermione grappled with this weighty question, another doubt crept into the forefront of her mind.

    <em>''Why, pray tell, had Professor Watson recruited Luna for this?''</em>

    Luna was a second-year student, ''specially recruited'' by Professor Watson alongside Ginny for the physical education ss. While Ginny''s inclusion was understandable, as she ranked among the top performers in the current PE ss, Luna''s performance had been utterlyckluster, her ranking always near the very bottom of the students.

    In fact, whenever Luna took to the field for training sessions, her focus seemed to wander. Before she could even attempt to dodge the first few projectiles, her gaze would inexplicably drift, her eyes taking on that familiar, dreamy look as she stared into the air, oblivious to the relentless barrage of Dungbombs that would inevitably bombard her body, knocking her senseless and forcing her to withdraw.

    "As for Miss Lovegood¡ª" Bryan''s gaze settled upon the seemingly daydreaming Luna, his expression uncharacteristically hesitant, "You still insist you can see those... those, er, strange little creatures?"

    As if roused from a trance, Luna snapped to attention, swatting at her ears as if fending off an invisible swarm of buzzing flies. "They''re everywhere!" she eximed, her voice tinged with a mixture of wonder and exasperation.

    Hermione and Neville had been dealing with Luna''s entricities for quite some time and were all too familiar with her asional bouts of oddity. Hermione quickly shot a furtive nce towards Professor Watson before turning back to the stubborn-looking Luna seated beside her.

    "Don''t be silly, Luna," Hermione said, her tone stern yetced with a hint of resigned exasperation. "No one has ever heard of Wrackspurts or Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. I specifically checked the library thoroughly, and there''s not a shred of evidence to suggest¡ª"

    "They do exist!" Luna interrupted, her eyes shing with uncharacteristic anger as her delicate features knotted into a stubborn expression. She gestured wildly with her hands, as if swatting at unseen forces. "There are numerous eyewitness reports from credible sources. Just because you can''t see them yourself, you think they don''t exist!"

    As Luna got into a heated argument with the ever-rational Hermione right before his eyes, a contemtive look flickered across Bryan''s face. His right hand moved subtly behind his back, the calloused pad of his middle finger pressing firmly against the tip of his thumb.

    <strong>Snap!</strong>

    The sudden, sharp sound reverberated through the room, catching Hermione ¨C in the midst of her valiant efforts to convince Luna to abandon her fanciful beliefs ¨C off guard. She subconsciously turned her head towards Professor Watson, her eyes widening in surprise. But at that precise moment, a fierce gust of wind suddenly whipped through the steady drizzle outside, the powerful, inexplicable st sweeping past the ssroom windows and causing the ss panes to rattle discordantly in their frames!

    "Whoa!"

    While Hermione and Neville remained dazed, their senses momentarily overwhelmed, Luna reacted as if she had seen something incredible. In a flurry of motion, she leapt up onto the sofa, as her eyes widened in an expression of mingled fear and exhration.

    Facing the bewildered gazes of her confused ssmates, Luna raised a trembling finger, pointing it towards the window as her voice rang out,ced with equal parts of nervousness and breathless excitement. "Heliopath! A group of Heliopaths just ran by!"

    "Wh¡ªWhat''s that?" Neville stammered, his shoulders instinctively hunching inward as if bracing for an unseen impact, his unease palpable.

    "Massive, fire-breathing creatures that race across thend, burning everything in their path to ashes," Luna stated matter-of-factly, her tone that of a seasoned magizoologist lecturing on the habits of a particrly fearsome species. "But I didn''t expect them to fly!"

    Hermione''s lips were pursed into a thin, pale line, her expressionical in its inability to conceal her utter skepticism at Luna''stest fantastical im.

    <em>''Just as I thought¡ª''</em> Bryan nodded inwardly, a look of understanding dawning upon his features.

    Luna Lovegood¡ªthis young girl''s keen perception of magic had reached the point of being able to ''manifest'' it. For many years, she was the first witch Bryan had encountered whose sensitivity to magic was higher than his own.

    "I have something here¡ª"

    Professor Watson strode back towards his desk, pulling open a drawer to retrieve a brand-new notebook. He then returned to the sofa and handed the notebook to Luna.

    "It teaches how to ''see'' Wrackspurts, among other creatures."

    As Luna''s wide, silvery eyes met his, shining with a close sense of wonder and recognition, Professor Watson''s smile broadened slightly.

    "If you''re interested, you can study it first, Miss Lovegood."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0362 Another Admirer

    0362 Another Admirer

    The night had begun with a gentle pitter-patter of rain droplets pouring from the inky ck sky, but as the hours ticked by, the heavens unleashed their fury in the form of a torrential downpour. Streaks of blinding lightning illuminated the turbulent waters of the ckke, their jagged tendrils slicing through the darkness like ethereal swords. This sudden onught of nature''s wrath sent shockwaves rippling through the murky depths, disturbing the slumber of the colossal squid that dwelled within.

    The massive creature, its tentacles as thick as ancient oak trunks, thrashed about in a frenzy, propelled by the raging winds and the pummeling rain. Its gigantic bulk disced vast quantities of water, causing the water to rise and surge forth, flooding thewns that surrounded the majestic castle grounds.

    Filch, who was on night patrol and witnessed this scene, was at a loss for what to do. He had no choice but to take the risk of waking his immediate superior.

    To prevent the young wizards and witches from awakening to the nightmarish sight of Hogwarts Castle submerged within the depths of theke, Bryan had no choice but to venture forth into the storm. He engaged in a ''pleasant'' ''negotiation'' with the rampaging giant squid. With the situation resolved, he then spent some time meticulously repairing the battered embankment. In short, he almost didn''t sleep all night.

    This night''s wild events directly triggered Bryan''s dy in arriving at the Ministry of Magic by the appointed hour of 8 a.m. the following day.

    The entire months of March and April were probably a disaster that the ordinary employees of the Ministry of Magic would never want to revisit.

    First, Bryan Watson had eradicated the most wicked and feared werewolf pack that had gued Magical Britain. Hot on the heels of this triumph came the capture of the infamous Sirius ck, the Azkaban fugitive whose daring escape had sent shockwaves through the wizardingmunity.

    And as if these seismic events were not enough to shake the very foundations of the Ministry, the shocking revtion that Peter Pettigrew, once glorified as a hero and bestowed with the Order of Merlin, First ss, was in fact a traitorous murderer, followed swiftly by his trial before the Wizengamot court.

    Any one of these momentous urrences would have been sufficient to fuel discussions and debates for an entire year in past, yet here they stood, these earth-shattering events that had intensely impacted the entire European wizarding world,pressed into the span of a mere month or two. It can be imagined how much unnecessary trouble this brought to the officials of the British Ministry of Magic.

    Now, with these matters finally concluded, Rufus Scrimgeour and his subordinates remained entangled in their investigation, their efforts focused on uncovering the identity of the individual responsible for tampering with the Portkey leading from the Department of Mysteries to Azkaban, an act that had resulted in Pettigrew''s untimely demise. However, this particr case held little relevance for the vast majority of Ministry officials.

    Now, they could return to their routine, leisurely yet busy work.

    The previous night''s storm had overwhelmed even London''s drainage system, leaving the city''s streets and alleyways awash in murky, stagnant pools. As Bryan Apparated into the secluded alley that housed the Ministry''s telephone booth entrance, he was surprised to find these deserted alley flooded with murky water up to his ankles.

    "Oh, damn!" he eximed, his brow furrowing as he surveyed the veritable ''ocean'' thaty before him. "I hope the Ministry of Magic hasn''t been flooded."

    Although the entrance telephone booth looked shabby on the outside, it was still reliable. Bryan sessfully entered the Ministry of Magic''s entrance hall.

    Even on the most ordinary of days, the Ministry was a disharmony of sound and motion, with every individual present wearing an expression of urgency as they hurried about their tasks. The relentless rain appeared to have exacted its toll on the Ministry as well, as Bryan emerged from the firece, he bore witness to a scene of disarray. Numerous fireces on his left, right, and across from him stood inoperative, their hearths dark and cold, while a young staff member was frantically trying to stop the rainwater seeping from the firece walls from making a mess of the grand hall.

    It was at this moment that a pale, middle-aged wizard emerged from one of the few functioning fireces directly opposite Bryan''s position. His disheveled appearance, marred by tworge ck eyes and mud-caked leather shoes, as if he had just trekked through a muddy field.

    "Couldn''t you avoid making a mess, Dirk!" yelled Twycross, the wizard overseeing the repair efforts, his voice trembling with barely contained rage as he surveyed the trail of muddy footprints left by Dirk Creswell.

    "I''ve spent all morning dealing with issues that have nothing to do with me ¨C first the Minister''s office was flooded, then the Deputy Minister''s. Everywhere has problems. I''ve had enough!"

    "Let me tell you what a real problem is, Wilkie!" The panting Creswell suddenly regained his energy, ring at the using Twycross Wilkie as he panted like a winded ox.

    "One storm ruined half a month of our hard work - the woods turned into a swamp. Over a dozen blokes working overtime to set up the stands were sent to St. Mungo''s. I spent all night in the pouring rain checking if any other areas might copse too. I went through this ordeal just so you''d have somewhere to park your arse while watching the Quidditch World Cup this summer, Wilkie. This wasn''t even my job, and now you''re yelling at me over a bit of mud!"

    "Oh¡ª" Twycross''s momentum faltered, his indignation deting like a punctured balloon. "Thank you for your selfless efforts, Dirk. I just, erm¡ª"

    It was at this juncture that Twycross''s gazended upon Bryan, who had been observing the exchange from the sidelines. Initially failing to recognize the wizard, Twycross rolled his eyes impatiently. "You''d best be on your way, sir. This is no ce to be gawking with the entrance in such a state."

    Bryan raised an eyebrow but remained silent, while Creswell''s eyes suddenly widened with dawning realization. The fatigue and resentment that had so recently clouded his face vanished, reced by an expression of unabashed excitement. He rushed over and seized Bryan''s hand enthusiastically, his grip firm.

    "Good heavens, if I''m not mistaken - oh, how could I be mistaken!" Creswell beamed, vigorously shaking Bryan''s hand as if attempting to dislodge it from its socket. "Mr. Watson, I''m one of your biggest fans!"

    "Oh, thank you--" Bryan offered a modest smile, attempting to extract his hand from Creswell''s grip, but the wizard held fast, taking the initiative and guiding the bewildered Bryan towards the lift area.

    "Which floor for you, Mr. Watson?" Creswell inquired eagerly, his finger jabbing the lift button with an almost manic enthusiasm as they stepped inside the awaiting carriage.

    "Umm¡ª" Bryan paused momentarily, casting his mind back. "Actually, I''m headed to Mr. Crouch''s office. We had an appointment."

    "Ah, level five then!" Creswell eximed,unching into an energetic description of the locations of the Ministry''s various departments, scarcely pausing for breath.

    Throughout this twisting journey, Bryan remained a silent observer, content to let Creswell''s seemingly inexhaustible well of words flow unimpeded. Yet, amidst the flood of information, the wizard named Dirk Creswell managed to convey his own identity and background with remarkable rity.

    "--I''m also from Slytherin," he said as they reached level five and he gestured towards Crouch''s office door. "Though my Head of House at Hogwarts was actually Professor Slughorn. We frequently exchanged letters discussing wizarding affairs, and just recently when discussing Fenrir Greyback, he expressed his regret to me--"

    Noting the puzzled expression that shed across Bryan''s face, Creswell swiftly rified, "It''s about you, Mr. Watson, not Greyback. Professor Slughorn felt he should have held off retiring a bit longer so he could have been your Head of House, instead of letting Severus Snape take advantage!"

    "Heh heh, please convey my gratitude for his kind sentiments," Bryan chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he came to a halt before the office door that marked his destination. "I believe this is my stop."

    "Allow me to knock for you!" Creswell eximed, bounding ahead before Bryan could protest, his knuckles knocking smartly against the sturdy oak.

    "You''rete," came the curt response from within, the voiceced with a distinct undercurrent of irritation.

    This was an extremely oppressive office, with its antiquated, stuffy decor giving the impression of being transported back to the 18th century. But one only needed to nce at the meticulously organized shelves crammed full of files to sense that the room''s upant was a severely regimented individual, bordering on obsessivepulsive.

    Barty Crouch stood behind his desk, his expression nk yet his eyes piercing, fixed unwaveringly upon the two wizards as they entered his office.

    "It''s not Mr. Watson''s fault!" Creswell burst out indignantly before Bryan could offer an exnation, his voice dripping with self-righteous indignation.

    "I''ll speak the truth, Mr. Crouch. If the Ministry would loosen its purse strings a bit and spend some money to properly repair our infrastructure, the entrance wouldn''t be in such a mess now!"

    "You know Barty''s style, Dirk - he''s used to being practical," a third wizard interjected, leaping to Crouch''s defense.

    It was at this point that Bryan realized Crouch''s office was not unupied - Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, was also present. A fourth wizard lingered in the visitors'' area, hunched in whispered discussion with Ludo, a travel case at his feet suggesting an imminent departure. It was he who had spoken up for Crouch, though his real motive seemed to be avoiding any further pestering, judging by Crouch''s expression.

    "Oh, Cuthbert?" Creswell blurted out, recognition flickering in his eyes as he addressed the fourth wizard. "What are you doing here? Didn''t you request leave from the Minister to go on holiday?"

    "I''m hitching a ride!" Cuthbert Mockridge, the Head of the Goblin Liaison Office and Creswell''s own supervisor, eximed with undisguised joy, giving his suitcase an emphatic kick.

    "I''m nning to stroll around Paris for a few days. I was originally going to use Muggle transportation, but Ludo told me they were also going to Paris. I can conveniently use Barty''s international Floo from his office instead. Barty was quite amodating and agreed right away!"

    From the expression on Barty Crouch''s face, Bryan could see that the main reason behind his acquiescence was to avoid further harassment from the overly enthusiastic Cuthbert Mockridge.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0363 Arrival In Paris

    0363 Arrival In Paris

    In the spacious and meticulously organized office of Barty Crouch, the diligent Dirk Cresswell was earnestly briefing the inattentive Cuthbert Mockridge on some recent critical work matters. However, it was abundantly evident that the preupied Cuthbert was unwilling to be disturbed at that particr moment, as he appeared to have a matter of great importance to discuss with the sociable Ludo Bagman.

    Barty Crouch sat behind his imposing desk, meticulously scrutinizing the ''safety n'' that had been submitted by Bryan, the Head of the Hogwarts Office of Student Safety. His brow furrowed slightly as he skimmed over the document, an unmistakable aura of dissatisfaction emanating from his stoic demeanor.

    To be honest, Barty was not satisfied with the safety n put together by Bryan. Not to mention its contents, if one of his subordinates had submitted such a poorly formatted report for his review, he might have already blown his top. Now, the only reason he could tolerate the grammatical errors and misspellings in the report was because it bore Albus Dumbledore''s approving signature. Additionally, Bryan himself had a special status.

    Not to mention that Bryan, the Head of the Hogwarts Office of Student Safety, was viewed as a hero for eradicating werewolves by many residents of the British wizarding world. Moreover, he was a favorite of the Minister, not to mention his deep connections with certain people within the Ministry.

    To openly antagonize an individual of such stature and influence would undoubtedly be misinterpreted as a brazen attempt by Barty to ignite a conflict, which would be unwise given his current unstable position.

    "There are many areas that need revision," Barty said impassively ten minutester. He tossed Bryan''s submitted n onto the desk, hoping the potentially rude action would make the young man understand that what he had submitted was merely a pile of ''garbage''.

    "Time is pressing, so achieving perfection is admittedly difficult, but fortunately we still have time for revisions," Crouch added with forced courtesy.

    Bryan understood Barty''s dissatisfaction, but he didn''t take offense. He simply smiled slightly and said, "Speaking of which, so far Headmaster Dumbledore has only told me to prepare a safety n to present at the event reviewmittee under the International Confederation of Wizards, but what are the specific regtions?"

    Exhaling an inward sigh of exasperation, Crouch nevertheless maintained an outward demeanor of unruffled calm as he provided Bryan with an overview of the protocols.

    "We must submit Hogwarts'' ''safety n'' promptly at 8 am three days from now to the Event Review Committee. At that time, the venue will be closed off, and representatives from the three schools participating will verbally present their respective ns to the reviewmittee members and ask any inquiries they may have.

    "This elitemittee, consists of eleven internationally respected experts and officials, who will thenmence a meticulous assessment to determine whether the proposed safety measures can effectively ensure the lives of the young witches and wizards brave enough topete in this challenging event. Only when themittee members have thoroughly interrogated all potential risks and emergencies will they hold an anonymous vote to formally select which School will have the honor of hosting the historic Triwizard Tournament."

    Crouch paused briefly to straighten the perfectly crisp cors of his tailored pinstriped suit jacket before continuing in that same rigidly formal tone. "After that vote, we will need to convene aprehensive series of logistical meetings to hammer out the extensive remaining event details. These details range from establishing the specific timing and nature of eachpetition task, to securing appropriate amodations for the visiting students and faculty from the two away schools throughout the tournament period, to determining the prizes to motivate the efforts of the eventual victor, and many other crucial considerations. This borate nning process will likely consume one to two months of continuous efforts."

    The moment Bryan asked the question, a small part of Crouch had been tempted to simply roar at Bryan to immediately vacate his office, then charge straight to Hogwarts and thoroughly interrogate Dumbledore on whether he even knew the immense historical significance and prestigious honor represented by hosting such a monumentally important event as the Triwizard Tournament. However, he ultimately restrained himself for the time being and calmly provided Bryan with a general overview of the regtions.

    Bryan''s brow furrowed slightly as he processed this overview of theplicated procedures. "8 am three days from now?" he questioned with a hint of confusion. "The time frame seems quite sufficient. Then why did we need to rush off to Paris today in such haste?"

    "The purpose of reviving the Triwizard Tournament tradition is to promote mutual understanding and unity between the leading Wizarding Schools of Europe," Crouch exined in that same regimented tone. "This evening, the International Confederation of Wizards will be hosting an internal cocktail reception that key representatives from the three countries''s ministries andpeting schools are required to attend, as a symbolic gesture of unity and respect."

    Having thoroughly exined the urgency of their travel, Crouch then nced at the antique grandfather clock in his office before rising from his chair and adjusting his suit cor with an air of impatient briskness.

    "We should get going to avoid any unfortunate tardiness or dys. Ludo - and you too, Dirk. Surely you couldn''t have only just discovered today that Cuthbert would be taking personal leave? Why did you not get those lingering issues properly sorted out well in advance?"

    The rebuke caused Cresswell''s already bad expression to sour even further. "Situations are constantly changing and new problems keep arising every day, Mr. Crouch," he responded unhappily. "Like justst night for instance, who could have possibly foreseen that one isted summer rainstorm would manage to cause the construction crew so much unexpected trouble?"

    After learning that due to previous evening''s torrential downpour the arena section had copsed sending over a dozen innocent workers to St. Mungo''s, Barty''s face turned ashen. This was no small matter- first and foremost, the families of those employees would surely demand substantialpensation from the Ministry, not to mention the Daily Prophet''s scandalous coverage alone would be enough to give the Ministry a massive headache.

    If Crouch did not have this vital obligation to travel urgently to Paris for meetings, he would have certainly needed to convene an emergency strategy session with Minister Fudge and Dolores Umbridge to properly face the impending bacsh. As it is now, he would just have to find a way to address the disastrous mishap at ater time.

    "Let''s go--" Barty Crouch told everyone stiffly, "While I can still get away from this mounting chaos."

    The sensation of traveling long distances via the Floo Network felt like being tossed into a violently shaking sieve. For wizards like Bryan who could rapidly switch positions via Apparition duringbat, or Barty who frequently needed to visit foreign ministries on business trips, it was an unpleasant yet tolerable experience.

    But for the more inactive Ludo Bagman or the not so young Cuthbert Mockridge, the dizzying effects of Floo travel became an absolute nightmare.

    The two men came tumbling ungracefully out of the elegantly adorned receiving room''s huge firece onto the plush maroon carpet below, Cuthbert faring even worse as he vomited up the contents of his recent breakfast in a disgusting disy that caused the attendant wizard receiving them to frown deeply.

    "Oh¡ªI''m starting to doubt my choice, Ludo," Cuthbert groaned pitifully, his face a sickly shade of green as he struggled to regain his footing on the luxurious wool carpeting. "This is even worse than those dreadful contraptions the Muggles use! At least their methods don''t leave one feeling quite so violently ill."

    Ludo, having recovered slightly quicker thanks to his athletic background, shot his friend a sympathetic look as he patted his own slightly paunchy belly. "Believe me, old friend, I can certainly empathize with you," he replied with a chuckle. "I experienced those horrendous Muggle forms of travel just once during my glory days on the Quidditch trips- it was a nightmare! I''ll take a bumpy Floo journey any day over being trapped in one of those weird metal bird contraptions the Muggles insist on using."

    After being helped back upright by the disapproving attendant, Cuthbert could only offer a weary wave of farewell before hastily departing with his luggage in tow, clearly desperate to begin his long-awaited vacation away from such arduous wizarding duties.

    The remaining three an unlikely trio - the distinguished if eternally dissatisfied Barty Crouch, the seemingly scatter-brained yet influential Ludo Bagman, and the rtively young if highly-skilled Bryan Watson.

    They now found themselves in thevishly decorated lobby of a luxurious wizarding hotel. The sound of gently flowing water outside caught Bryan''s attention. He turned to gaze upon the iconic Eiffel Tower, towering like a giant and bathed in a golden glow from the rising sun.

    Averting his eyes away from the famousndmark, Bryan turned his attention to scrutinizing their new surroundings with a puzzled frown. While the city of Paris itself wasn''t entirely unfamiliar for him, he couldn''t recall ever encountering a hotel quite like this particr one in all his travels.

    The architectural aesthetics clearly paid homage to the often-underappreciated goblin culture in the most distinct fashion.

    In the center of thevish circr lobby area rose an immense marble pir, practically every inch of its towering surface intricately carved with vivid bas-relief depictions of legendary battles between goblin rebellion forces and human wizarding armies.

    While not particrly knowledgeable about history, Bryan could still recognize the depicted scenes specifically chronicled the Goblin Rebellion of 1612 and its aftermath - a brutal conflict the Goblins had fancifully termed as their "Holy War for Sovereign Dignity" - unfortunately for them, the oue was not favorable.

    The wall facing the reception area was a rough stone surface extending all the way to the ceiling, with many niche carved out and holding various precious artifacts and alchemical treasures hailing from goblin artisans across the globe throughout the centuries - treasured kemetic amulets, intricately decorated ceremonial des and goblets worked from precious minerals, arcane tomes of forbidden lore bound in dragon-scales, and all manner of wondrous goblin-made relics.

    Every aspect of the lobby''s extravagant architectural decoration and interior design loudly proimed it to be a goblin-owned and operated establishment, constructed to cater exclusively to theforts and tastes of the wizarding elite. Subtle touches like the natural quarried stone surfaces and raw materials enhanced an overall aesthetic of modest yet unmistakable goblin sophistication.

    "I got quite the scare myself the first time Iid eyes on this ce!"Ludo had been discussing matters with Cuthbert earlier, but now he finally had a chance to chat with Bryan.

    When interacting with a departmental head like Barty Crouch or Amelia Bones, one could easily sense an ''aura of authority'' from their words and behavior.

    However, Ludo Bagman was decidedly different.

    As Barty went to check them in, Ludo noticed Bryan examining the hotel''s decor. He stepped over and wrapped an arm around Bryan''s shoulders with a smile.

    "Those greedy little goblins won''t pass up any potential opportunity to bolster their already overflowing coffers, I''ll give them that!" Ludo continued with an amused snort. "They constructed this hotel with the sole purpose of ying hosts to us wizarding officials who conduct regr business with the International Confederation of Wizards. They even donated a sum to the French Ministry of Magic, just to ensure their establishment would be the designated lodging for the Ministry''s valued VIP guests!"

    Ludo smacked his lips in an exaggerated disy of dislike, though his twinkling eyes showed hisck of genuine indignation towards the goblins''smercial scheming.

    After momentarily pursing his lips in an expression of contemtion, he changed the subject as he eyed Bryan with keen interest.

    "Back in Barty''s office earlier, I overheard you two discussing the ''safety n''. How''d it go? Was Barty full ofints as usual?"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0364 Old Friend

    0364 Old Friend

    "Ah, Mr. Crouch indeed acknowledged that the ''safety n'' submitted by Hogwarts was far from being perfect."

    Bryan was unustomed to being overly familiar or excessively casual with others, especially those he did not know well. He maintained a formal posture, keeping his hands sped behind his back in a dignified manner, pretending to admire the ancient artifacts nestled within the intricately carved niches adorning the sturdy stone walls of the grand lobby. He naturally shrugged off the overly friendly gesture of Ludo Bagman, who had draped his arm over Bryan''s shoulders in a jovial disy of familiarity.

    "Ah-ha!" Ludo eximed, seeming absolutely delighted to hear the implicit confirmation that the ever-critical Barty Crouch was unsatisfied with Hogwarts''s proposed ''safety n'' for the uing event.

    Ludo bounced over behind Bryan again, tantly ignoring Bryan''s helpless and ufortable expression as he once again rested his arm on Bryan''s shoulders. Ludo''s frivolous demeanor and casual bodynguage showed no signs of the solemn decorum and dignified poise that one would expect from the head of such a prominent department within the Ministry of Magic.

    "That''s just how Barty is," Ludo said cheerfully. "He demands absolute perfection in every tiny detail and aspect. He won''t even allow for the slightest misced punctuation mark to go uncorrected!"

    "But I''d wager your proposal is utterly wless. By the way, Bryan, is this your first time in Paris? It''s such a marvelous, enchanting ce. The French certainly have an exceptional knack for truly enjoying life to the fullest. If I were in your position, I wouldn''t bother concerning myself with those dreadfully dull reports and proposals."

    It was a typical workday, the habitual time for most individuals to be diligentlyboring away at their respective offices, but not far away from where Bryan, Ludo, and Barty stood, along the shimmering, gently surging banks of the renowned River Seine, numerous carefree Muggles leisurely strolled about, many carrying steaming cups of fragrant coffee in their hands.

    The overall pace of life here in this picturesque Parisian setting did indeed seem to be significantly more rxed and unhurried inparison to the hustle and bustle of everyday life back in Ennd.

    Watching those carefree,ughing youths frolicking about without a care in the world, a hint of a bitter smile fleetingly appeared across Bryan''s lips. Living his second life, he had long since lost the ability to maintain the casual, nonchnt attitude required to simply enjoy the simpler pleasures of life.

    Ludo Bagman continued to chatter on endlessly in Bryan''s ear, reminiscing fondly about a particrly wonderful encounter he had experienced in this very city during a prestigious Quidditchpetition in his youth. However, Crouch, havingpleted the necessary registration procedures, abruptly interrupted Ludo''s nostalgic recollections.

    "We''re on the seventh floor. I''ve arranged for a satisfactory lunch to be promptly delivered to our room. For the remainder of the day, we all need to focus our entire attention on meticulously revising and refining the ''proposal'' to ensure it meets the highest possible standards."

    Barty Crouch stared intently at Bryan with an intense, prating gaze, as though deeply afraid that he might be seduced or swayed by Ludo''s overly casual and careless attitude into abandoning the serious matter at hand.

    This luxurious hotel, officially designated to host esteemed guests by the International Confederation of Wizards and the French Ministry of Magic, enjoyed a steady stream of visitors even on ordinary days.

    Bryan, Barty, and Ludo were each quite conspicuous and renowned public figures within the wizarding world, so their joint presence at this hotel was an even more remarkable and noteworthy urrence.

    Earlier, many of the hotel''s other guests had already taken notice of Ludo and Bryan talking with one another in the lobby. Now, as the three men prepared to leave the spacious lobby area and make their way toward the elevators, numerous witches and wizards who recognized them flocked over in droves, hoping to chat with them and perhaps even obtain their autographs.

    Two particrly passionate and devoted Quidditch fans, overwhelmed with excitement at the prospect of meeting such famous figures, even went so far as to boldly chase after them into the elevator itself. However, they quickly withered and retreated under the full force of Barty Crouch''s icy, stern re, which conveyed an unmistakable aura of cold, hard disapproval at their intrusive and improper behavior.

    "There''s no need to be so frosty and ill-tempered, Barty," Ludo said resentfully, smacking his lips in an unhappy manner. "We''re here to promote a spirit of camaraderie and friendly rtions between the various different magical cultures represented at this event. You should try to be more friendly and weing toward these international acquaintances."

    Ludo''s words carried a degree of reason and logic, but Barty Crouch''s expression remained resolutely frosty as he simply frowned deeply, remaining silent. Bryan had the feeling that Barty seemed reluctant to engage in excessive conversation with the chatty Ludo Bagman, especially in his own presence.

    The hotel''s overallyout and design were cylindrical in nature, with all of the guest rooms encircling a massive central pir or core. Directly opposite the elevator doors, an immense, intricately detailed mural had been meticulously carved into the stone of the central pir itself, vividly depicting the final stages of the infamous Goblin Rebellion. In the scene, the goblins could be observed mounting a desperate, if futile, defense of their stronghold at the legendary Hog''s Head Inn as the advancing armies of wizards closed in.

    The highest and most distinguished floor in the hotel''s spiralyout was the seventh floor. As Bryan stepped onto the circr seventh-floor tform, he saw more borate, painstakingly carved decorations hanging from the domed ceiling above. When he looked closer, he saw that it was, in fact, an exquisitely rendered map showing the exact locations of all the Gringotts Wizarding Bank branches across the globe, with Gringotts''s headquarters prominently disyed in the center, right here in the heart of Paris, close to the renowned Louvre Museum.

    Barty led Bryan and the consistently chatty Ludo a short distance to the right of the elevator lobby before finallying to a halt in front of one of the rooms.

    Bryan had also stayed at a hotel designated to host guests of the Ministry of Magic during his time in Ennd, but that particr establishment had been Muggle-operated and, apart from being luxurious andfortable, there was not much else remarkable toment upon regarding its design or decor.

    But there was no denying that the French wizarding society had a natural talent forvishly savoring the better things in life and their surroundings.

    The instant the door to their room opened, even the experienced Bryan could not help but be mildly taken aback.

    He had expected to be greeted by the sight of an exceptionally spacious guest room adorned withvish, gilded, and diamond-studded decorations strewn about in every conceivable ce, an extravagant and ostentatious disy of luxurious decor sticking to the traditional styles favored by the upper echelons of elite wizarding society.

    However, the reality that awaited them was far more exaggerated and over-the-top than even Bryan''s lofty expectations.

    The door opened not into a typical guest room but into apletely different, self-contained world. A verdant, luxuriant courtyard with six elegantly swaggering peacocks wearing their full array of colorful plumage suddenly came into view. The courtyard''s centralwn was expertly groomed. In the middle of the courtyard bubbled a beautifully carved fountain, the sound of its constantly flowing water creating a calming, melodious atmosphere.

    Lining both sides of the clean, meticulously groomed stone path that twisted its way through the verdant oasis were rows of lush, towering sweet gum trees, their vibrant green foliage providing a natural archway to guide the guests toward the true centerpiece¡ªa three-story, magnificently snow-white vi nestled amidst a serene, peaceful grove at the courtyard''s far end.

    Bryan nced upward, craning his neck as he took in the breathtaking view of the simted sky over his head. A softly glowing orb, perfectly replicating the warm, golden hues of the afternoon sun around four o''clock. A few pure white clouds dappled the boundless blue sky, slowly drifting across the dome in a convincing mimicry of natural cloud movement.

    "These French certainly know how to live," Bryan could not help but remark in admiration.

    "An overnight stay here doesn''te cheap," Ludo chimed in enthusiastically, gesturing broadly at theirvish surroundings as he addressed Bryan. "If you weren''t an invited guest at this event, the only way for one to experience the splendor of these exclusive lodgings would be directly out of their own deep pockets¡ªat the frankly exorbitant rate of two hundred galleons per night!

    Oh, Barty would never have agreed to approve such avish expense if the Ministry itself did not have significant vested interests in trying to curry favor with our generous hosts, would he now?"

    "Financial considerations are utterly irrelevant in this case, Ludo," Barty Crouch said impatiently. "I want you both to grasp the gravity of our current situation¡ªif Dumbledore himself couldn''t easily ovee those other twopeting schools during the early nning stages, it just goes to show how difficult the task ahead of us is. If we cannot assure that the updated proposal we eventually present isprehensive and dependable enough to withstand the most rigorous inspection, our chances are doomed from the start."

    "I''m not entirely clear on what efforts we''ve made previously," Bryan suddenly interjected. "But tell me, have you perhaps considered an alternative, more unconventional approach to resolving this? I mean, have you tried making offers to individual members of the tournament''s judgingmittee?"

    "Oh, you sly, crafty dog!" Ludo immediately let out a loud chuckle of raucousughter, clearly delighted by Bryan''s bold implication. "Trying to directly bribe and manipte the judgingmittee with under-the-table favors, were you? The Minister himself has certainly hinted as much in suggestions to Barty here, but that''s simply not possible, is it?"

    "Why not?" Bryan asked, perplexed.

    "The representatives selected to sit on the tournament''s judgingmittee all formally signed binding magical contracts preventing them from epting any favors, gifts, or considerations whatsoever from the three main parties involved in organizing and hosting the event," Barty said coldly, his disapproving scowl deepening. "Thank Merlin for that crucial stiption, or otherwise Beauxbatons could very well start preparing and fortifying the tournament grounds to be staged directly on their territory."

    Bryan smiled nomittally. Having signed so many contracts himself, he knew full well that magical contracts only appeared fair; in reality, the vast majority had numerous loopholes to exploit.

    As Bryan had predicted before even arriving, the task of revising and refining their submitted proposal to meet the tournament''s requirements would likely fall upon just himself and Barty Crouch. Ludo Bagman, with his frivolous demeanor andck of seriousness, would be of no assistance.

    In fact, after depositing his luggage in the room, Ludo made a flimsy, transparently insincere excuse to leave. Both Bryan and Barty were privately relieved about this, as neither of them wanted to have the chatty Ludo nagging beside them while they were trying to work.

    For the remainder of that day, neither Bryan nor Barty Crouch ventured out from thevish confines of their hotel room''s courtyard vi, except when Bryan spent approximately half an hour leisurely strolling through the meticulouslyndscaped gardens after having enjoyed an authentic, gourmet French lunch prepared by the hotel''s premier chefs.

    Working together with Barty Crouch was sheer torment for Bryan.

    The only consensus they could reach was to keep their distance from each other. So apart from discussions rted to the proposal, they engaged in virtually no extra conversation or pleasant small talk of any kind.

    The decorative grandfather clock softly chiming in the courtyard indicated it was now half past five in thete afternoon, with still half an hour remaining until the scheduled start of the evening''s formal banquet and reception.

    Bryan set aside the sheaf of parchments containing his preliminary revisions to their proposal, letting out a weary sigh as he dug out the robes he hadn''t worn for many years from his suitcase and began to dress himself up. After all, he not only represented himself now; if he showed up to the party in old-fashioned, tattered robes, Hogwarts would certainly be mocked.

    "The banquet is being hosted on the second floor of the main building. We mustn''t bete," Barty said curtly, already striding through the courtyard towards the exterior door, d in a set of ck dress robes that were ironed without a single wrinkle.

    Bryan, who was still carefully adjusting his cravat as he casually followed a few paces behind, inquired casually, "What about Ludo? Doesn''t he need to attend and make an appearance at this function as well?"

    "Oh, I expect he''s already there," Barty Crouch said with a hint of mocking ridicule, tinging his normally stern tone. He reached thevishly carved entrance of their courtyard vi, that opened abruptly onto the winding stone path and grasped the intricate metal handle, pulling the heavy wooden door inward.

    At that precise moment, another hotel guest happened to be strolling by in the opposite direction and, hearing the sudden noise of the door swinging open, casually nced over toward them. However, the man immediately stopped dead in his tracks upon recognizing just who had emerged.

    "Ah¡ª"

    The tall, remarkably thin man with a neatly trimmed goatee adorning his narrowed features reacted with a brief flicker of unease crossing his lined face. But then, just as quickly as his uneasiness had surfaced, the man bared his yellowed, crooked teeth at Barty in an oily grin as he opened his arms wide in an overly slimy gesture of feigned delight.

    "Didn''t expect to have the pleasure of running into you here in such magnificent surroundings, Barty, my old friend," the man purred in a sycophantic tone, his beady eyes glittering.

    "Good Evening, Karkaroff," Barty Crouch replied stiffly with the barest dip of his head in a curt nod of acknowledgment.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More chapters, visit /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0365 Gathering

    0365 Gathering

    <em>''Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang?''</em>

    In previous years, Bryan had traveled extensively across Europe. During his time in Germany, he had also heard local wizards discussing Durmstrang and its current headmaster, Igor Karkaroff.

    As is well-known among the wizardingmunity, Durmstrang stands out as the most unscrupulous and controversial of the three legendary wizarding schools on the European continent. This school still retains many traditional teaching methods. By ''traditional,'' it means the school''s attitude towards magic is more inclined towards that of traditional wizards, steeped in a philosophy that blurs the boundaries between the dark and white magic, treating them with an unsettling nonchnce.

    It was within this unorthodox and morally ambiguous teaching environment that dangerous and notorious wizards like the infamous Gellert Grindelwald were nurtured.

    The current headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, has taken Durmstrang''s ''liberal'' approach to new and unsettling extremes. There are some rumors that he tacitly approves professors to teach dark magic at the school. Furthermore, There is also hearsay that Karkaroff himself was once a Death Eaters.

    Judging from the palpable aura of resistance and disgust emanating from theBarty Crouch, these rumors seem to hold some credibility.

    Barty''s indifferent demeanor, however, did little to dissuade the recently awakened Karkaroff, whose face remained etched with a warm, inscrutable smile as he smoothly shifted his gaze towards Bryan. A momentary flicker of puzzlement shed across his face, quickly reced by dawning recognition as he assessed the young man standing behind Barty Crouch, who, judging by his age, appeared to be a subordinate of sorts.

    "If my eyes don''t deceive me¡ª" Karkaroff purred, a cunning glint flickering in his piercing blue eyes as he extended his hand past Barty towards Bryan, his toneced with an undercurrent of peculiarity.

    "This must be the esteemed head of Hogwarts''s student security office, Mr. Bryan Watson?"

    "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Headmaster Karkaroff," Bryan responded, his face etched with a solemn smile as he grasped Karkaroff''s rough, calloused hand in a firm handshake.

    "Ah, I didn''t expect Dumbledore to actually send you forth," Karkaroff remarked smoothly, his lips curving into a serpentine smile. "It seems he is truly determined to host the Triwizard Tournament this time, Professor Watson."

    "Your name resonates even within the halls of Durmstrang," Karkaroff continued, his tone carrying a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. "Recently, the young minds at our school were all busy discussing how you single-handedly defeated Fenrir Greyback and his pack of wolves. They couldn''t believe that a single wizard could y so many werewolves all by himself. They, and my staff, are utterly captivated by your mastery of the Fiendfyre¡ªah, I mean the ''Spirit Fire.'' It is certainly an intriguing and formidable magic, is it not?"

    "Haha, it''s merely a trivial trick, not worthy of mentioning," Bryan said with a faint smile, though his eyes remained watchful and guarded.

    "But I didn''t expect to be so warmly weed at Durmstrang. I will mention this to Dumbledore when I return. If he doesn''t offer me a raise, I will threaten to ept a teaching position at Durmstrang instead,"

    Bryan''s little joke elicited a roar ofughter from Karkaroff, though Bryan was certain he detected not a glimmer of genuine humor in the man''s eyes.

    This was clearly a two-faced character, a devious individual of questionable morals and intentions.

    "We have no time for such pleasantries; the party is about to start," Barty interjected curtly, his grim expression a stark contrast to Karkaroff''s outward cheerfulness. Without further ado, he turned on his heel and strode firmly towards the elevator hall, his abrupt behavior casting a fleeting gloom across Karkaroff''s eyes.

    "Barty and I have been acquainted for many years," Karkaroff said lightly, his toneced with an undercurrent of forced humor. "His temper hasn''t changed a bit."

    "Is that so?" Bryan replied, feigning keen interest as he took a step forward. "How did you two first cross paths?"

    "Ah, ahem¡ª" Karkaroff faltered, caught off guard by Bryan''s probing query. For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words, disrupting the awkward silence with a few conspicuous coughs before regaining hisposure.

    "Just some business dealings. You know, keeping a school running is no easy task. We need to procure many things for teaching, and without Barty''s approval, we can''t get our hands on certain British supplies."

    Unwilling to linger in Karkaroff''s presence any longer than necessary, Barty Crouch didn''t even wait for the elevator with them, instead headed straight down to the second floor. By the time Bryan entered the banquet hall, Barty and a few other distinguished wizards from the International Confederation of Wizards had already engaged in hushed conversations, while the ever-bubbly Ludo Bagman had unsurprisingly made an appearance, grinning broadly as he chatted over with an energetic group of admirers.

    In stark contrast to their hotel''s overall Goblin-inspired aesthetic, this banquet hall seemed more in harmony with traditional wizarding sensibilities. A massive, glittering crystal chandelier hung suspended from the vaulted ceiling, casting a warm, ethereal glow over the square hall. The white walls were adorned with exquisite artistic sculptures, and the air was covered with the delicate fragrance of fresh flowers.

    The banquet hall was buzzing with people engaged in lively conversations all around. To Bryan, this gathering seemed more akin to a morous social event than a preparatory party intended to decide the hosting venue for the Triwizard Tournament.

    "No wonder Dumbledore was so reluctant to be involved¡ª" Bryan muttered under his breath, his brow furrowing slightly.

    Speaking of which, wasn''t the nning stage of the Triwizard Tournament supposed to be shrouded in secrecy and confidentiality? Surveying the bustling crowd of hundreds of wizards and witches, d in a mixture of vibrant robes and garments from every corner of the globe, Bryan couldn''t help but question the necessity of such severe discretion.

    "Oh, you''ve arrived ahead of us, Karkaroff¡ª" As Bryan was surveying the venue, a deep voice from the entrance suddenly caught his attention, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned his gaze towards the neers.

    A towering figure, nearly as massive and imposing as Hagrid, appeared in the doorway, apanied by a young woman who looked like a student.

    "Ah, Madam Maxime, and Miss Dcour¡ª" Karkaroff greeted them with an exaggerated grin, exposing a row of yellowed teeth as he strode forth, pulling Bryan along by the arm.

    The two neers were both highly conspicuous figures, drawing immediate attention from all those present. Madam Maxime towered even taller than Hagrid, and she was much leaner, making her seem even more imposing ¨C so much so that she was forced to duck her head to pass through the spacious entrance.

    Beside Madam Maxime stood a girl of exceptional temperament. She appeared to be about the same age as Percy, with a waterfall of shimmering silver hairs cascading down her back, reaching almost to her waist.

    In terms of sheer presence and temperament, this young woman was essentially on par with Cliodna, though shecked some of the natural charm.

    To the other guests in attendance, Bryan himself cut quite the striking figure amidst the banquet hall.

    Among the assembled wizards and witches, the majority of whom appeared to be well over 40 years of age, he stood out as a youthful presence. His bearing was upright, exuding an aura of confidence. Whenever someone met his pale violet gaze, their soul would tremble, as if glimpsing an abyss that could freeze it.

    "That sly old fox Dumbledore has sent us a formidable new representative, Madam Maxime¡ª" Karkaroff said, his mouth curving into a smile utterly devoid of humor as he gestured towards Bryan.

    "Bryan Watson. I''m certain you''ve be familiar with his reputation. He is a truly intimidating opponent. I fear we may have already lost the advantage before the contest has even begun."

    Upon hearing these words, Bryan gave a subtle sidelong nce at Karkaroff, a flicker of thunder passing through his emotionless eyes. Just as Karkaroff tried to sow the seeds of discord, he suddenly felt a tightness constricting his chest, and his grip on Bryan''s arm instinctively loosened.

    "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Watson¡ª" Madam Maxime greeted him with a rtively friendly smile, extending herrge, ring-adorned hand towards him.

    "I have heard much about the amazing deeds and aplishments you have achieved. They are truly impressive feats, from all ounts."

    "Just a stroke of luck, really¡ª" Bryan said, raising his hand to his cheek in a modest gesture as he grasped Madam Maxime''s extended hand in a handshake. He then politely nodded his head towards the keenly observing Fleur Dcour. He was about to offer a formal greeting, but at that moment, amotion from the main stage of the banquet hall drew his attention.

    A troupe of elegantly attireddies floated onto the stage through a side door, each one holding a musical instrument in her hands. They ascended the stage via the side stairs with an almost ethereal grace, surrounded by a soft, pink radiance and the gentle fluttering of translucent fairy wings. Once assembled on the stage, each of them took their seat and began tuning their violin or other instruments in preparation for their performance.

    "The Woond Fairy Troupe," Fleur Dcour exined to Bryan in a voice as sweet and melodious as the ringing of silver bells. "They are quite famous throughout France."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0366 The Party (Part-1)

    0366 The Party (Part-1)

    In the grand and luxurious banquet hall, the air was filled with a lively, cheerful melody that seemed to dance along the walls. Respectable wizards from every corner of the globe had gathered here, mingling and conversing with one another, their elegant robes swirling as they moved.

    Bryan had not been one to frequent suchvish social events until recently. After gaining widespread fame for defeating Greyback, he stayed in London for a period to cooperate with the Ministry of Magic''s ns and initiatives. During that time, invitations to high society parties and gatherings poured in endlessly, and Bryan selectively attended a few of the more notable ones.

    This current grand party was not drastically different from those he had experienced in the heart of London''s wizarding social scene, except for the fact that he was no longer the absolute center of attention and awe amongst the partygoers.

    Barty Crouch, and high-ranking officials from the French and German Ministries were surrounded by circles of guests, all vying for their attention. The towering figures of Madame Maxime, the headmistress of Beauxbatons, and Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of the Durmstrang, engaged in active discussion with members of the International Confederation of Wizards. Meanwhile, the ever-sociable Ludo Bagman seemed appeared to have lost himselfpletely in the partying, boasting endlessly about his glorious professional Quidditch career to any guest who would raise a ss in his direction.

    Of particr note was the striking youngdy that Madame Maxime had brought as herpanion. With her alluring beauty and an aura of enigmatic charm, she effortlessly drew the admiring gazes of countless partygoers who made a show of pretending to strolling by, hoping to catch a fleeting glimpse of her presence.

    And, of course, Bryan himself was never without a mass of admirers and well-wishers surrounding him, eager to bask in his heroic aura and hear the tales of his incredible exploits firsthand.

    The burning topic on everyone''s lips was the story of how he had managed to ovee and defeat Fenrir Greyback and his pack of werewolves, bringing an end to the reign of terror inflicted by that most vicious of werewolves. There were also many guests consumed with curiosity about the fabled Basilisk that Bryan had in ¨C after all, the legend of Szar Slytherin''s secret Chamber and the monstrous creature that dwelled within had been passed down through the ages, and countless wizards had coveted the opportunity to uncover the "treasures" that might exist in that legendary vault.

    However, there remained a distinctck of open admiration and reverence for Bryan amongst these assembled elite wizards hailing from magicalmunities across the nations. These were proud individuals, unustomed to being easily impressed or intimidated. In their eyes, it was far from certain just how pivotal a role Dumbledore himself had yed in orchestrating the dramatic events surrounding the defeat of Greyback and the vanquishing of the werewolf pack.

    Perhaps, some whispered, this had all been an borate scheme carefully staged by Dumbledore himself, a grand spectacle designed to propel the young Bryan Watson into the international spotlight and establish him as a figure of renown.

    After a while, Barty Crouch extricated himself from the group of German and French Ministry officials that had encircled him, his piercing, hawkish gaze sweeping across the hall, instantly analyzing and engraving to memory the actions and interactions of every notable figure present. His scrutinizing stare then fixed upon Bryan, and a glint of surprise shed momentarily in those intense eyes.

    This young wizard appeared oddly at ease in the presence of such elitepany, a behavior unbefitting of someone just into their twenties who would normally still bebeled as a "intern" in the Ministry, much like Tonks, the Auror trainee who reported to Rufus Scrimgeour. Barty knew the girl was talented, but she was still a novice, a "trainee Auror" polishing her skills.

    "Bryan--" Barty began, pausing momentarily as if weighing his words before deliberately setting aside his innate bias, at least for the moment. He lifted his ss and approached, the wizards surrounding Bryan politely dispersing to make way for the high-ranking official.

    Barty offered Bryan a somewhat stiff, formal smile, and the two men touched sses in a silent toast before taking small, measured sips of the fine sherry.

    "How are you finding it?" Barty asked, his tone neutral yet carrying an undercurrent of scrutiny.

    "The wine is excellent, and the wizards here are amicable enough," Bryan replied, a faint, inscrutable smile across his lips.

    Barty understood the implication behind Bryan''s words, and his neatly-trimmed mustache twitched almost imperceptibly in response. Yet he chose not to pursue that particr line of argument, realizing that the younger wizard would not be so easily baited into open criticism of their prestigious group here.

    "But the true purpose of this grand party is not merely for making surface connections and fostering superficial friendliness," Barty stated, his gaze tinged with an unmistakable coldness as it centered upon theposed figure of Madame Maxime, and the elegant, confident Fleur Dcour, who adeptly handled the attentions of the wizards who considered themselves suave and charming.

    Barty''s eyes lowered momentarily, his voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of disdain as he spoke. "Madame Maxime has clearly brought that popr Beauxbatons student for an obviously ulterior motive. She intends to exploit the girl''s alluring charm to curry favor and influence with the guests. You may not be aware of this, Bryan, but the youngdy possesses Ve blood running through her veins."

    Bryan''s eyes shifted, his gaze briefly stopping upon Fleur Dcour, who radiated an aura of unshakable confidence. An inscrutable smile appeared across his lips, showing no outward reaction to Barty''s revtion ¨C as how could he not recognize the heritage of one with Ve ancestry, having encountered pure-blooded Ves on numerous asions before?

    "In that case," Bryan remarked coolly, his eyes subtly drifting towards Igor Karkaroff, who was fawning over and ttering an elderly wizard with a white goatee, "Karkaroff seems to be the upright gentleman, as he hase unapanied by any such...distractions."

    "Upright gentleman--" Barty''s lips twitched, and his tone carried an undisguised chill as he replied, "Yes, you can clearly discern what manner of person Karkaroff truly is, can you not? As far as I am aware, Durmstrang also has its share of celebrities amongst its student body. It is not that he did not wish to bring one of them along tonight ¨C but their star Quidditch yer is busy preparing for the uing World Cup, so he cannote."

    "Those ploys are hardly ingenious," Bryan said with a dismissive chuckle, taking another sip of the fine sherry before continuing in a lightly teasing tone. "If such tactics are deemed eptable, I could just as easily return to Hogwarts and bring the ''legendary'' Harry Potter himself along as mypanion. His fame and renown would surely cover any charms employed here this evening."

    Barty''s eyes narrowed in evident displeasure as he leveled an icy re at Bryan. He had said those things to raise Bryan''s guard, but Bryan seemed nonchnt.

    "The wizard that Karkaroff is currently conversing with is named Vipor Dreghorn. Have you heard of him?" Barty asked in a lowered tone.

    "Vipor Dreghorn..." Bryan murmured thoughtfully, his brow furrowing slightly as he pondered the name. After a moment''s contemtion, he spoke again.

    "The name does ring a bell. This man seems to have worked at the Confederation for many years. He participated in the hunt for extremist forces after Grindelwald''s downfall. His reputation is quite good. He seems to want to go further, but after Maxima Santoris stepped down as Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, the Ministries of Magic of various countries unanimously agreed to let Dumbledore take up the position.

    Word is, he was quite displeased by this and has privately opposed Dumbledore within the Confederation."

    "He is one of the eleven-member judging panel for the Triwizard Tournament. Moreover, two others on the panel have close ties to him," Barty said in an ominous tone. "That''s why Karkaroff is so diligently trying to curry favor with him."

    After Barty revealed this man''s identity, Bryan''s brow furrowed slightly.

    Undoubtedly, this person harbored hostility toward Hogwarts. If it were just him alone, it wouldn''t matter. But if he could sway the other two judges''s decisions, then to some degree, he could determine who would host the Triwizard Tournament.

    "If Dumbledore were here, Vipor Dreghorn might not dare to openly oppose, But since he is absent..."

    Bryan nodded. "You think he might seize the opportunity?"

    "None of us can vouch for his character," Barty said dryly as he left. Vipor Dreghorn was not the only member of the judgingmittee present; Madame Maxime vied for the other judges''s support too, and Barty had to do the same work.

    Bryan discreetly observed the conversing Karkaroff and Vipor Dreghorn. Barty''s implication was already clear - he hoped Bryan would find a way to neutralize Dreghorn''s evident bias against Hogwarts and ensure he would preside as an impartial judge during the tournament''s proceedings. But this would not be so easy, would it? Without any enticing incentives or leverage to offer, convincing this resentful man to set aside his deep-rooted prejudices and give a fair, objective judgment would be an immense challenge.

    Previously, Barty had also told him that themittee members had signed a magical contract prohibiting them from epting favors from the threepeting parties.

    Of course, more subtle approaches existed, but Bryan still weighed whether to use coercion or enticement.

    "Mr. Watson--"

    At that precise moment, a crisp, melodious voice suddenly rang out from behind Bryan. He turned his head to find the source was none other than the youngdy with Ve ancestry from Beauxbatons Academy.

    "Yes?" Bryan raised an eyebrow and smiled. "How may I assist you, Miss Dcour?"

    "Oh, I just--" Fleur shrugged. She wanted to show a confident smile, but under the abyss-like gaze of the handsome man in front of her, her smile seemed a little cramped.

    <em>''How strange,''</em>

    Fleur thought. Normally, she did not feel so uneasy around men.

    "I just--I believe we should get to know each other, shouldn''t we? I mean, we represent Beauxbatons and Hogwarts respectively, and the Triwizard Tournament is an event to foster friendship--"

    "Ah--" Bryan nodded understandingly with an amused look. "You want to persuade me to support Beauxbatons School as the host of Triwizard Tournament, is that right?"

    "Oh, what--of course not!" Fleur eximed, her expression one of apparent bewilderment at the direct usation. Then she noticed the glint of amusement in Bryan''s eyes and realized he was only joking.

    "So, would you truly support Beauxbatons? You must know, it is the greatest magical school in Europe."

    Regaining herposure, Fleur''s eyes sparkled with a coquettish smile.

    "On that point, I reserve my opinion." Bryan chuckled.

    Fleur''s English was quite good, only lightly tinged with a French ent.

    She introduced Bryan to some things about Beauxbatons and the local customs and practices in France. For a witch who hadn''t even graduated yet, Fleur''s knowledge was impressively broad. However, it paled inparison to Bryan''s experiences traversing half the world. Still, he did not point out any mistakes or gaps, maintaining a politely smiling demeanor.

    "--I have a younger sister, her name is Gabrielle. When the Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets went on exhibition in France, our professor of Magical Creatures took us to see it. Oh, it was such a ferocious beast! Gabrielle had nightmares for days afterward. It is hard to imagine how you managed to subdue that terrifying creature!"

    Fleur clutched her chest, her brilliant blue eyes fixed eagerly on Bryan, hoping to hear an exciting, dramatic story.

    Bryan realized this young girl had note to "gather intelligence" - she was simply, innocently interested in him.

    Bryan, who came back to his senses, felt a bit ridiculous. He was used to living a pure and simple life, and he did not expect that he would be the target of fascination of a young girl who had not yet graduated from school and met him for the first time.

    "Ah¡ªwell, luck yed a role--"

    Bryan chuckled, and simply changed the subject. He was no Gilderoy Lockhart with a quirk for boastful tales.

    "Speaking of which--"

    Bryan took advantage of refilling their drinks to put some distance between himself and Fleur, and then looked at her thoughtfully.

    "When the Triwizard Tournament is officially held, will you represent Beauxbatons, Miss Dcour?"

    "Of course--"

    Fleur tossed her long silvery waterfall of hair, her brilliant blue eyes sparkling, as she revealed her perfect pearly teeth, and her silver bell-likeughter made the people around who were secretly paying attention to this ce sway.

    "No matter which school hosts the tournament, I will represent Beauxbatons. I have read the selection process for the contestants, and I believe I can pass the test of the Goblet of Fire."

    "Then I wish you the very best in making your dream a reality and a ster performance in the tournament, Miss Dcour."

    Bryan knew it was time for him to take his leave, lest the envious res around them overwhelm him. He raised his ss to Fleur, and after touching the rim of the ss with his lips, he smiled and said.

    "But I fear we must part ways briefly, Miss Dcour. I notice Mr. Crouch gesturing for me over there - I think he has something to discuss--"

    "Ladies and gentlemen, good evening to you all--"

    Just as Bryan was looking for an excuse to excuse himself, a booming voice suddenly came from near the stage, overwhelming the buzzing in the banquet hall. Bryan looked in the direction of the sound and found that Karkaroff was staring at Vipor Dreghorn with great interest. Tonight, Dreghorn represented the International Confederation of Wizards and was addressing the Ministry of Magic of various countries and the entourage of three magic schools.

    The woond fairy troupe performing on the stage paused their music as the crowd gradually gathered in front of the stage to form a semicircle.

    "Tonight, the International Confederation of Wizards is overjoyed to wee the Head of the International Magical Cooperation Department at the British Ministry of Magic, Mr. Barty Crouch, and the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Mr. Ludo Bagman. It is thanks to their tireless efforts that the light of the Goblet of Fire, which has been extinguished for centuries, could be rekindled. I daresay everyone here owes a debt of gratitude to Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman!"

    Vipor Dreghorn raised his ss first towards Barty and Ludo in front of the crowd, prompting the rest to follow suit, and raise their sses one after another.

    Barty had a forced smile on his face, as he turned his head and leaned slightly to salute the crowd, but his eyes held a hint of wariness when meeting Dreghorn''s gaze.

    But Ludo had no scruples. He showed a bright smile waving jovially at everyone.

    "And of course, we must thank Mr. Igor Karkaroff and Madame Olympe Maxime--"

    Once the apuse and cheers from Ludo''s introduction subsided, Dreghorn continued urgently,

    "It is thanks to the enthusiastic participation of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang that we finally witness the Triwizard Tournament''s rebirth!"

    Bryan''s eyes narrowed slightly, mirroring the meaningful look Barty shot him.

    "Oh, fosteringmunication between our diverse magical cultures has always been our pursuit, Mr. Dreghorn--"

    Karkaroff grinned, his eyes roaming as he spoke in an oily tone,

    "But Mr. Dreghorn, I notice you have omitted a key figure. Hogwarts, under Albus Dumbledore''s leadership, has long supported the ideals of international friendship and cooperation, has it not?"

    "Oh, I would never forget--"

    Dreghorn who had a lot of influence in the International Confederation of Wizards, stroked his silvery beard with a coy smile.

    "But Dumbledore is our Chairman. Promoting cooperation and exchanges between magicalmunities fall within his responsibility, so I hardly thought specific thanks were required."

    The crowdughed and talked sparsely. Many people in the crowd shook their heads slightly, expressing their disapproval of Dreghorn''s statement. Some people also focused their eyes on Bryan, with a little gloating in their eyes.

    But at this moment, Dreghorn''s gaze settled directly on Bryan, Hogwarts''s representative, a fleeting look of disdain and malice shed in those eyes even as his face was still piled with a sincere smile,

    "I was just joking with you all earlier. Of course, we must thank Hogwarts for their vigorous participation. And here, we have the privilege of meeting a new friend - none other than the famous Bryan Watson, attending in Albus Dumbledore''s stead as Hogwarts''s representative!"

    Bryan responded with a calm smile and a nod of acknowledgment towards the crowd.

    "Oh, Mr. Watson, why note up and properly introduce yourself?" Dreghorn''s said humorously. "Or would you rather not be parted from the lovely Miss Dcour?"

    A chorus ofughter, both good-natured and malicious, burst from the crowd. But Fleur''s brilliant blue eyes shed with indignant embarrassment - clearly displeased by such teasing.

    "Come on up and say a few words, Bryan!"

    Ludo waved excitedly at Bryan, disregarding Barty''s frosty re, apparently oblivious to Dreghorn''s ill intentions.

    "Indeed--"

    In that moment, Bryan chose his method between coercion and enticement.

    He stepped forward, meeting the various, calcted looks with an easygoing smile.

    "Perhaps you are all unaware - before bing Hogwarts''s Head of Student Safety Office, I served as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Miss Dcour''s impressive magical knowledge and talents have quite surprised me. I was actually pondering how I might gain insight into Beauxbatons''s advanced teaching methods from her."

    A hint of sarcasm shed through Barty''s eyes, not towards Bryan, but towards Dreghorn who smiled like a sly fox.

    This guy probably thought that Bryan was just a young wizard with little experience, and he only became famous under Dumbledore''s management. Therefore, he pulled Bryan out to vent his frustration with Dumbledore. However, from what Barty knew, whether in terms of power or intellect, Bryan Watson was not a guy who could be easily manipted by others!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0367 The Party (Part-2)

    0367 The Party (Part-2)

    When Bryan used a humorous and elegant sentence to eliminate the negative impact of his malicious joke, Vipor Dreghorn immediately realized that the young man in front of him who was pushed out by Dumbledore was not that simple.

    A flicker of hesitation arose in his mind, as he did not wish to overly offend Dumbledore either, but at this moment, Karkaroff suddenly spoke up,

    "No need for modesty, Mr. Watson--"

    Karkaroff''s lips curled into an amused smile.

    "Everyone knows Hogwarts is the oldest wizarding school in Europe, and also the greatest today. Whether Beauxbatons or our Durmstrang, we have many aspects to learn from Hogwarts in teaching."

    "Precisely so--"

    The wizards gathered here came from all over the world and graduated from various wizarding institutes. Karkaroff''s statement touched a nerve in their pride. Perceiving the simmering displeasure, Dreghorn instantly resolved his stance as he smiled in agreement,

    "We''ve gathered here to choose the host school for the Triwizard Tournament, but I believe Hogwarts already has an advantage, doesn''t it?" Oh, I''ve worked with Dumbledore for many years; he must be extremely confident to rece the representative at thest minute."

    This was precisely why Bryan was reluctant to work'' among so-called elite society. These folks have always preferred using sneaky strategies to undermine their opponents. Under the pretense of stable social rules, he had to resist his urge to resolve everything through force.

    "I agree with part of Headmaster Karkaroff''s statement--"

    Bryan smiled at Karkaroff, without showing any emotion.

    "It is well known that Hogwarts is indeed the oldest of the three major European wizarding schools. However, on the matter of ''greatness'', my humble opinion is that every wizarding school is a cradle nurturing magicalmunities - they are all great. The word ''great'' cannot be quantified with ''most''."

    Having said that, Bryan turned to face Dreghorn, continuing before the other could respond,

    "As for why Headmaster Dumbledore has temporarily made me Hogwarts''s candidate representative, Mr. Dreghorn--"

    Bryan chuckled, "Perhaps the reason he is unwilling to appear here is to avoid stealing your limelight!"

    Thevish banquet hall erupted inughter and apuse, with many casting admiring nces at Bryan, marveling at this emerging star''s excellent spur-of-the-moment adaptability in the European wizarding world.

    Gazing at the graceful yet unruffled Bryan Watson, Fleur Dcour''s deep blue eyes burned with passion. Truth be told, though she did not believe Beauxbatons was weaker than Hogwarts in any way, she had to admit that one could not find a wizard like Bryan Watson at Beauxbatons.

    Handsome, elegant, and witty - moreover, from his renowned feats it could be seen that he was an immensely powerful wizard. Given his age, Bryan Watson''s prospects were limitless!

    Barty''s expression was conflicted. Although Bryan''s superb handling had saved face for the British Minister of Magic, the thought that this man covertly supported Amelia left Barty unable to feel pleased. However, when his gaze fell upon Dreghorn, who had been toyed with by Bryan and was struggling to maintainposure, a glint of malicious glee shed in Barty''s eyes.

    "It seems that our Mr. Watson possesses more than just extraordinary skills--"

    Sensing the situation was verging on slipping from his control, Dreghorn said with a forced smile,

    "Oh, speaking of skills--"

    Dreghorn smacked Bryan''s back in a mock friendship, his eyes widening as if he suddenly remembered,

    "We all know Mr. Albus Dumbledore is the most powerful and influential wizard in the Wizarding world today. Now it seems Hogwarts has produced another another wizard of great skill; why not let everyone witness it? I mean, isn''t the greatest way for us to get to know you through your amazing magic?"

    <em>''Foolish¡ª''</em> Barty Crouch thought coldly.

    It seemed that Dreghorn considered Bryan to be all talk, and that his exceptional magical skills were just fabrications by the Daily Prophet. However, Barty knew the truth - he had heard from Cornelius, Dolores, and Rufus about the chilling, sky-scorching inferno they witnessed upon arriving at Hogsmeade.

    "Since the astounding Battle of the century between Dumbledore and Grindelwald, has there been such a surprising event - I mean, one man able to face a hundred vicious werewolves."

    Dreghorn''s eyes glinted as he stared at Bryan, behaving like an adoring fan.

    "I''m sure everyone here would love to witness your extraordinary magic. Come now, Bryan, show us your skills - if spectacr enough, it may even help Hogwarts gain extra points in the selection!"

    Bryan''sck of immediate response led Dreghorn to think he had found a way to make Bryan make a fool of himself. He increasingly believed that those staggering exploits in the newspapers were staged by Dumbledore to pass authority to him.

    In truth, quite a few in the European wizarding world harbored such thoughts. After all, a previously unknown wizard so young suddenly bing so powerful seemed rather abnormal.

    Even the young Albus Dumbledore had begun umting fame while he was still a Hogwarts student, ultimately bing the great wizard admired by many - unlike Bryan Watson, who shot to widespread fame within a year due to some incidents.

    "A disy of magic--"

    After going around in circles for a long time, he actually chose this to make a fool of himself. Bryan sighed in his heart.

    In fact, Bryan''s greatest vulnerability was the unknown nk period after graduating from Hogwarts until his return - if someone investigated what he had been up to during that time, it could indeed prove troublesome.

    "Well, Mr. Dreghorn, what method did you have in mind?"

    Bryan asked with interest.

    "Of course, we need an opponent!"

    Vipor Dreghorn eximed excitedly. His gaze immediately swept over the gathered crowd, feigning a search for Bryan''s opponent. Suddenly, his eyesnded on Fleur Dcour, who also hoped to witness Bryan'' skills, and he called out with feigned surprise,

    "You there, Miss Fleur Dcour - I think you would make a suitable opponent!"

    "What?!"

    Fleur cried out in bewilderment,pletely unprepared to find herself the opponent.

    "I think this is hardly a wise choice, Mr. Dreghorn,"

    Madame Maxime stepped forward, her toneced with anger.

    "Fleur is indeed Beauxbatons''s most outstanding student. However, I believe everyone understands there is still quite a gap between her and Mr. Watson, so this would not be an evenly matched battle."

    "If you want an even match, Madame Maxime--"

    Karkaroff immediately interjected,

    "Then Dumbledore himself would have to take the field. None here could single-handedly face a thousand-year-old Basilisk, or a hundred werewolves in an enraged frenzy!"

    Karkaroff seemed to be joking, but his eyes were full of indifference, without a trace of smile

    "Quite right--"

    Dreghorn pped his hands, affirming Karkaroff''s statement.

    "Miss Dcour is still a student at Beauxbatons, while Mr. Watson is a professor. This is a rare opportunity, is it not? To receive his tutge, Miss Dcour may well benefit greatly!"

    Sly fox!

    Those with clear minds saw through Dreghorn''s scheme.

    Of course, Bryan could not lose to Fleur Dcour, or he would be utterly disgraced. Yet neither could he engage in an all-out battle, as that would likewise embarrass Bryan.

    However, if he swiftly and cleanly defeated Fleur Dcour, then Madame Maxime would lose considerable face.

    Vipor Dreghorn wanted to have some fun at Hogwarts''s expense, while Igor Karkaroff from Durmstrang wanted to amuse himself at the expense of both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons.

    In the banquet hall, hardly anyone failed to grasp Dreghorn and Karkaroff''s scheme, which they had orchestrated so clearly that almost everyone caught on.

    Dreghorn''s words did not entirely convince Madame Maxime; she looked unhappy, wanting to say something. However, but when she saw that her favorite student, Fleur, was actually quite moved, she hesitated and swallowed the words on her lips.

    Fleur had always been the pride of Beauxbatons. Her ve heritage gave her outstanding beauty, and her exceptional magical talents made her idolized by her peers. Perhaps it wouldn''t be a bad thing to let her face some hardship for once.

    With this thought in mind, Madame Maxime ultimately said nothing and even prevented the French Ministry officials who wanted to defend Fleur.

    Senior Barty red coldly at Vipor, furious at his persistence. He had already made up his mind to go back and say hello to Dumbledore. When this matter was over, he would give Dregorn a lesson, but the most urgent thing was to remind Bryan not to fall into the trap.

    However, when Barty noticed Bryan''s rxed demeanor and calm gaze, his slightly anxious mood suddenly eased.

    "Don''t be stingy, Bryan!" Ludo called out joyfully. "Let us see your skills!"

    Dreghorn''s scheme did not faze Bryan, but Ludo Bagman''s eager anticipation for the show made two tick marks appear on Bryan''s forehead.

    <em>''This guy, was he truly as stupid as the rumors said, or did he have ulterior motives?''</em>

    Bryan also noticed the expectation in Fleur''s blue eyes and couldn''t help but inwardlyugh. After all, she was just a young girl who hadn''t even graduated from school, and her mind was simple.

    She was probably the only one in this banquet hall who genuinely wanted to witness his abilities.

    "Well, then--"

    Bryan''s mind raced, and after a few moments, he smiled at Fleur.

    "Miss Dcour, shall we have a little contest?"

    Dreghorn and Karkaroff simultaneously looked pleased, but before they could say anything, Bryan continued,

    "However, I have an opinion on the way we should contest."

    "What did you have in mind?" Fleur asked with great interest, taking graceful steps into the center of everyone''s attention.

    "In my humble opinion, since the Triwizard Tournament is meant to foster friendship between us, and this banquet is being held to prepare for the tournament, it would be rather inappropriate for me, representing Hogwarts, and you, from Beauxbatons, to directly duel."

    Bryan gently swirled his crystal-clear wine ss, a yful smile on his lips.

    "I have an idea--since Mr. Dreghorn suggested a contest, why don''t we involve him as well?"

    Vipor''s expression changed instantly. Before he could remove himself from this whirlpool, he heard Bryan''s proposal:

    "Let''s eachpete against Mr. Vipor, and the contest will be who can disarm him faster."

    "I believe this is a very appropriate suggestion," Barty Crouch stepped forward, a cold smile on his face as he pped his hands.

    "This is not appropriate--" Vipor Dreghorn''s expression was not pleasant now.

    Of course, he did not think that he would be disarmed by a young girl who has not graduated yet, but Bryan''s proposal almost threw back the difficult problem he had thrown to him before. Now, he is the one who urgently needs to maintain his face and consider the dignity of Beauxbatons and the officials of the French Ministry of Magic.

    "I find it very appropriate!" Barty asserted strongly, raising his voice to cut off Dreghorn''s protests. Then, he looked kindly at Fleur. "I''m sure Miss Dcour would not refuse this more dignified and illustrative way of contesting, would she?"

    Truthfully, Fleur seemed more interested in contesting against Bryan. However, she could not refuse Mr. Watson''s suggestion. Just as she was hesitating, Fleur suddenly noticed Madame Maxime giving her an imperceptible nod.

    "I think Mr. Watson''s idea is not bad--" Fleur nodded, though her expression showed slight disappointment.

    <strong><em>Whoosh!</em></strong>

    There were troublemakers among the crowd besides just Ludo. In an instant, the tables spanning the banquet hall were magically moved aside, clearing a spacious area.

    However, preparations still took some time since Fleur could hardly ''fence'' while wearing high heels and a form-fitting, low-cut gown!

    "Well done--"

    Everyone focused on the confrontation between the eager Fleur Dcour and the sullen Vipor Dreghorn.

    Barty took the opportunity to approach the faintly smiling Bryan and murmured something.

    Truthfully, Barty''s praise did surprise Bryan a little since he knew the Head of the International Magical Cooperation Department did not particrly like him.

    "The real show is yet toe--" Bryan sipped his sherry, arching an eyebrow with a smile.

    "Very well, then--"

    Fleur, who had changed back into Beauxbatons''s school uniform, held her wand and performed a standard duel preparation in a heroic manner, which won the apuse of many people.

    "Please excuse me, Mr. Dreghorn."

    "Oh, I hope these old bones of mine canst!" Despite his gnawing hatred, Dreghorn still tried to present himself with dignity.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0368 The Party (Part-3)

    0368 The Party (Part-3)

    Under the brilliant candlelight, a vivid red beam from Fleur''s wand kicked off the contest.

    It was evident that Beauxbatons must have had courses like dueling, as Fleur was not just waving her wand recklessly. Her attacking steps, feints, and spells showed a certain method. However, her excellence still did not surpass what an underage witch should be capable of.

    Vipor, on the other hand, had participated in the pursuit of the extremist group of wizards after Grindelwald''s downfall¡ªhe was a powerful wizard who had walked through the war era with outstanding magical abilities!

    No one, not even Madame Maxime, expected Fleur to sessfully disarm Vipor Dreghorn.

    This was indeed the case. In the normal duel, the biggest challenge Dreghorn could foresee was to try his best to perform more strenuously and be careful not to defeat the little girl from Beauxbatons all at once and embarrass Madame Maxime.

    But three minutester, a precise gray beam still struck Fleur''s wrist, causing her to lose bnce and drop her wand.

    "Ah--" Fleur stomped her foot in disappointment, looking crestfallen. "I failed--"

    Many people could not help but smile, but no one wanted to tell her the truth.

    "You almost seeded, Miss Dcour--" Dreghorn steadied himself, wiping the ''sweat'' from his brow with a smile on his face that fully disyed the demeanor of a ¡®master.''

    "Truthfully, I have never seen such a talented young witch. I dare say, Miss Dcour, you will undoubtedly be a strong contender for the Triwizard Tournament champion. Your future is limitless, and of course, all this is inseparable from Beauxbatons''s excellent teaching methods--"

    Even Madame Maxime''s expression softened after Dreghorn''s words and his show of restraint, no longer minding that he had involved Fleur in his little scheme.

    "Well then, it''s your turn, Mr. Watson--"

    It was not so embarrassing for Fleur to lose to a well-known wizard, not to mention that the other party gave her such a high praise. She quirked her lips like a girl who got her desired Christmas present and took light steps towards Bryan, smiling at him with a hint of pride and boldness in her eyes.

    "I hope the following demonstration will be enlightening for you, Miss Dcour--" Bryan said with a chuckle, handing his wine ss to Barty Crouch as he casually took the stage amidst everyone''s eager anticipation.

    The previously rxed atmosphere quickly became charged with tension.

    Everyone wanted to see just how skilled Bryan Watson really was. Although the Daily Prophet had already reported on it in detail, everyone was well aware of the political leanings of the Prophet itself.

    Even if the information reporters had gathered from the vigers of Hogsmeade was true, how perceptive could a bunch of ordinary folks be? Who knew, perhaps what they said was just the boastful exaggerations of gossipmongers!

    "You make a fair point, Mr. Watson--" A flicker of sullenness crossed Dreghorn''s gaze as he eyed the impably dressed Bryan in his crisp ck suit. "I hope this confrontation will prove enlightening for those witnessing it."

    Bryan chuckled but didn''t respond. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, he fumbled around a few times, but as his movements continued, his expression became pensive.

    "What''s the matter, Bryan?" Barty Crouch frowned in concern, asking tensely.

    "Oh--" Bryan shook his sleeves once more. After a moment, he spread his empty hands with an innocent look on his face. "I seem to have forgotten to bring my wand--"

    <strong>...</strong>

    <em>''Forgot to bring his wand?''</em>

    Bryan''s words swept through like a biting cold wind, instantly freezing the eager guests who had anticipated witnessing an intense battle between evenly matched opponents. Barty was stunned too, his face stiffening, and then his eyes narrowed at Bryan with a glint of grinding teeth.

    <em>''Forgot to bring his wand? How could that be possible? What a clumsy excuse!''</em>

    In those few brief seconds, Barty''s little admiration for Bryan vanished. He red angrily at the young man, and if not for the crowd of onlookers, he might have charged over and punched him hard!

    A wizard''s wand is their life, more intimate ofpanion than a spouse. A qualified wizard should never forget to carry their wand, even when entering the bathroom to bathe!

    Compared to Barty''s terrible mood, Dreghorn was practicallyughing out loud.

    Now it seemed that Bryan was indeed just a puppet put on stage by Dumbledore to seed him- someone with a glib tongue but no real skills.

    "Oh, forgot to bring his wand? What a regrettable mistake!"

    Karkarov''s mouth split open, revealing his yellow teeth.

    Earlier, he had been pondering the pounding of his heart when Bryan''s gaze swept over him, but now it seemed that was just an illusion. He couldn''t believe Dumbledore would actually put forth such an idiot.

    "Is there anyone kind enough to lend Mr. Watson their wand for a moment?"

    Karkaroff blew his nose and pretended to be polite.

    "It seems the eagerly awaited contest can only go like this," Dreghorn said ''regretfully''. "Hopefully next time there will be an opportunity--"

    "Never mind, let''s just do it this way."

    In that short time, Bryan, whose image had plummeted in the eyes of everyone, looked helpless. He just shrugged his shoulders, and suddenly said something that pushed the atmosphere, which had just rxed a little, to solidification again!

    Just do it this way? What did that mean?!

    Dreghorn seemed to guess what stunt Bryan was trying to pull, but he could not believe he was being so humiliated by this fresh-faced youngster barely two years out of school!

    The friendly demeanor he had maintained all evening could no longer be sustained. Dreghorn''s expression took on a hint of ferocity, his fury causing his magic power to simmer out of control. His scraggly beard bristled as if hit by static electricity, finally revealing the bloodless lips set in his battered face.

    "What do you mean, Watson? You forgot to bring your wand, didn''t you!"

    Vipor Dreghorn growled harshly.

    "I mean exactly what I said, Mr. Dreghorn," Bryan replied mildly, seeming unaware that his words had deeply humiliated the renowned wizard. He smiled gently, "You take your wand, I''ll go unarmed."

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    In an instant, a mor of discussion erupted in the banquet hall like the rumbling of thunder before a summer storm.

    Now everyone realized Bryan Watson was not making excuses out of cowardice about not having his wand - nor had he truly forgotten it. He was simply - he was retaliating!

    Retaliating against Vipor Dreghorn''s provocations!

    But wasn''t this too arrogant?

    You know, Dreghorn is not a young wizard who can''t even wave a wand properly. Although he is not a wizard known for his powerful magic, but he was nheless an elite veteran wizard who had participated in wars and survived. It can be said that even now, Dreghorn''s skills are not inferior to the elite Aurors of of any nation''s magical enforcement.

    For an unarmed wizard to think he could take on such an experienced old hand - it was sheer recklessness!

    That thought crossed everyone''s mind in the banquet hall.

    Fluer''s luscious lips parted slightly as she stared at the unmoved Bryan Watson amidst the uproar, her blue eyes still clouded with confusion.

    Bryan Watson wanted to defeat a wizard barehanded she could not beat even with her full strength? Was today April Fool''s Day?

    "So then--"

    Bryan didn''t seem to care how earth-shaking his casual words sounded. He maintained his mild, gentlemanly demeanor, but his pale purple irises harbored a scarcely detectable ferocity.

    "Are you ready, Mr. Dreghorn?"

    "You''ll pay for your foolishness, Watson!"

    Such humiliation even made Dreghorn forget he was in public. He abruptly raised his wand and snarled under his breath.

    Of course, Dreghorn had notpletely lost his senses, otherwise he would have unleashed the most powerful curse he knew to teach this impudent young man a lesson. Certainly, there were many spells that could embarrass someone publicly. A vicious glint shed in Dreghorn''s eyes as he prepared to choose one with maximum dramatic effect. But¡ª

    The instant his wand descended; the keen senses honed from the half of his lifetime battling evil set rm bells ringing in Dreghorn''s mind. The spell originally intended for attack, upon detecting the cold glint in Watson''s eyes, transformed into a defensive measure as it was cast.

    "Protego!"

    A shimmering transparent shield materialized before Dreghorn in the candlelight. At the same moment, everyone in the banquet hall seemed to hear a roar.

    It was like the thunderous rumbling of a sea monster disturbed from its slumber in the depths - an invisible sea of magic power surged at the pull of Bryan''s own magic, its raging waves shattering the steadily formed magic construct of the Shield Charm with a crushing force!

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    After that brittle yet melodious shattering sound, the magic barrier before Dreghorn dissipated into drifting petals, slowly rising in the heavy, sluggish air like cicada wings.

    Dreghorn''s expression of utter horror had not even fully formed when Bryan''s right hand, hanging naturally at his side, abruptly pinched together his thumb and forefinger.

    <strong>Snap!</strong>

    In the hushed banquet hall, apanying that snapping sound was a slender yet dazzlingly brilliant bolt of lightning erupting from Bryan''s fingertips.

    With a flick of his wrist, Dreghorn felt an irresistible, surging force envelop his wand as he prepared to counter. Then his wand flew from his grasp like a loosened arrow,nding in Bryan''s palm in the blink of an eye.

    One second, two seconds, three seconds.

    The breathless silence persisted, the flickering candlelight and the wand spinning in Bryan''s palm seemed to be the only moving things in this hall.

    In the end, it was Bryan who broke the stillness.

    "May I ask how long that took?" Bryan addressed the timekeeper nearby, his voice tinged with joy.

    "What? Oh, you mean the time!"

    Snapping out of his daze, the wizard flustered and checked his watch in panic, realizing the second hand had not even moved halfway around during that silence.

    "Not...not entirely sure, Mr. Watson," the wizard said timidly. "Perhaps three or five seconds, but no more than ten at most!"

    "How could this be..."

    Dreghorn seemed to have aged a decade in an instant, his shoulders sagging as he stared at Bryan in a daze. "How could this be...wandless and silent casting, and yet my Shield Charm..."

    "That question is ratherplex to exin--"

    The wand drifted up from Bryan''s palm, flying a short distance to automatically tuck itself into Dreghorn''s shirt pocket. Bryan smiled courteously, "If you''re interested, Mr. Dreghorn, you''re wee to visit Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry anytime. We''ll be happy to teach you--"

    Wandless and Silent spellcasting - both are exceptionally advanced magical techniques. Without substantial magical power and formidable mental fortitude, one would be utterly incapable of mastering these skills. Even if mastered, in most cases, one could only cast simple spells like the Levitation Charm or some simple lighting spells.

    To duel using these two skills in an official contest is simply unheard of!

    Without a doubt, Bryan became the absolute star for the remainder of the banquet. People vied to toast him and express their admiration for the astonishing magical prowess he had just disyed. Even Madame Maxime came over seriously inquiring whether Hogwarts had special teaching methods to help students master these two spellcasting techniques.

    Bryan was never one for such enthusiasm, but he had to handle it cautiously - after all, his words and actions represented Hogwarts''s image in the international wizardingmunity.

    Looking at the never-ending crowd before him, Bryan inwardly sighed, regretting if he had perhaps gone a bit overboard earlier.

    Vipor Dreghorn left under the pretext of feeling unwell. The chilling ce he gave seemingly unintentionally when he left made Bryan understand that this guy must have made up his mind to cause trouble for Hogwarts.

    Igor Karkaroff, the headmaster of Durmstrang whom Bryan had just met today, also took his leave on some excuse. As the head of a wizarding school, Karkaroff''s magical attainments were also considerable. He could discern the impressiveness of what Bryan had so nonchntly disyed. From the haste of his departure, it can be seen that he should have been a little scared.

    "Bryan¡ª"

    Barty''s cheeks were slightly flushed from frequently toasting for Hogwarts''s votes that evening. However, from his clear and sharp eyes, it can be seen that he still maintained his rationality.

    "I must return for a while¡ª"

    It took Bryan a moment to understand what Barty Crouch was saying. He looked surprised.

    "Return...you mean to Ennd? What''s happened, Mr. Crouch? Is there some crisis at the Ministry?"

    "Nothing to get worked up over¡ª" Ludo also came over. His gigglingughter indicated he seemed quite drunk.

    "It''s just Barty''s habit, or rather, quirk - he always likes to go home to sleep, doesn''t he? It''s no big deal. I''d wager that by tomorrow morning before you''re even awake, Barty will already have had breakfast and be standing beside your bed in a suit calling you to get up!"

    "You should know how many things are waiting for me to deal with in the department--"

    Barty red coldly at Ludo. He had onlye to notify Bryan, not to discuss with him. After dropping the remark "I''m very pleased with your performance tonight," he left of his own ord.

    "Come to mention it, I won''t be sleeping in my room tonight either," Ludo let out a burp, grinning dazedly.

    "Oh?" Bryan curled his lips andughed. "You have plenty to take care of too?"

    "Oh, I''m not a bore like Barty¡ª" Ludo swayed closer to Bryan, as if about to share a secret. Seeing this, Bryan quickly leaned his ear over.

    "You know, Paris is the City of Love. Thedies here are so charming, I mean, passionate. I''ve already lost count of how many invitations I''ve epted. Anyway¡ª"

    Ludo paused midsentence, suddenly scrutinizing Bryan with a peculiar look.

    "Why don''t I take you out? I hear you''re still single, aren''t you?"

    Ludo giggled again. "A young, strappingd always has excess energy to expend. How about joining me for a night on the town? I guarantee you''ll be in for a surprise. Ah, just one thing - you''ll have to keep it from Barty and Dumbledore!"

    "Thank you, but¡ª" It took Bryan over ten seconds to catch his breath. Suppressing the urge to transfigure Ludo into a cow, he said through gritted teeth, "Thank you for the offer, Mr. Bagman. I hope you have an enjoyable evening, and do be careful."

    Ludo indeed hadn''t exaggerated - Bryan watched him depart arm-in-arm with a bewitchingly alluringdy. Moreover, many seemed to notice this scene, yet no one appeared shocked.

    "Were you abandoned?" Fleur had changed back into that sky-blue dress. Bryan knew she had been hovering nearby, and upon seeing Ludo leave, she immediately stepped over gracefully to upy the space beside him.

    "What were you and Mr. Bagman discussing earlier? You seemed a bit out of sorts, Mr. Watson."

    "Discussing how charming Frenchdies can be, Miss Dcour."

    Bryan almost blurted out this sentence, but reason told him that if he actually said that, while Vipor Dreghorn may not have ruined his reputation, those words could make him aughingstock.

    "It''s nothing¡ª" Bryan smiled slightly. "Ludo invited me to experience Parisian culture at a small pub after the banquet, but I declined. I was given this assignment rather hastily and need to work round the clock to perfect the security ns."

    "Oh¡ª" Fleur shrugged her shoulders. "I think Mr. Bagman''s suggestion wasn''t bad¡ª"

    Suddenly, this sixth-year Beauxbatons witch''s brows twitched, her blue eyes sparkling.

    "You don''te to Paris very often, do you, Mr. Watson?"

    "Um, not that frequently, no," Bryan''s brow furrowed slightly.

    "I could show you around the city," Fleur said excitedly. "You could tell me about Hogwarts while I talk about Beauxbatons. And if possible, the wandless and silent magic you used to defeat Mr. Dreghorn tonight..."

    Fleur had found a good excuse, but the unusual emotion in her eyes did not escape Bryan''s notice.

    French women certainly are passionate, Ludo - you were right about that.

    This young witch is quite straightforward, Bryan thought. At Hogwarts, he had received choctes and decorously-worded love notes delivered by owl from upper-year witches before. But never had a young girl dared to openly say things like this or was he misunderstanding this.

    For many here, it wasn''t that big a deal. Even when Madame Maxime noticed Fleur''s unusually enthusiastic gaze toward Bryan, she just smiled inwardly and looked away, She even had a faint sense of expectation in her heart.

    Bryan had never considered himself a moral model. For so long, his mind had focused solely on magic. Even in recent years, knowing hard work could no longer benefit him much, his mind was more rxed. But the infatuation of an underage witch...

    "I''m sorry, Miss Dcour¡ª" Bryan showed regret on his face. He was ready to use the previous excuse just now to deal with it, but when the words came to his lips, he suddenly stopped, and at the same time, a trace of sharpness shed across his purple eyes.

    "I have an urgent matter to attend to. Until next time, Miss Dcour."

    After leaving this sentence, Bryan ignored Fleur''s shameful and angry expression and walked hurriedly, and left the banquet hall directly.

    The hotel had powerful anti-Apparition jinxes in ce. Moreover, Bryan did not want to make a public spectacle - otherwise he would have simply flown into the sky and rushed straight back to his room.

    As the elevator doors parted open, Bryan wrapped his magic around himself in the deserted hallway. A shadowy streak instantly shed a hundred feet to pause rematerializing before the door.

    The instant he pushed open the door, rising dust from what had been a peaceful courtyard assaulted him. The once tranquil garden and elegant vi were utterly gone, leaving only a pile of rubble before Bryan!

    <em>''Interesting.''</em>

    Bryan walked slowly into the room, closing the door behind him. Surveying the devastated space, a cold smile crept across his lips.

    It seems someone is rather eager to be reborn.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0369 Not Simple

    0369 Not Simple

    <strong>Boom¡ª¡ª</strong>

    A massive explosion rocked the center of the once-grand vi, sending shockwaves across the disintegrating remains. A fractured wooden pir, its surface burned and splintered, fell, filling the immense space with a torrent of shattered bricks and billowing clouds of dust.

    "Heh, interesting--" Bryan muttered, a hint of coldness glinting in his piercing gaze as he surveyed the peculiar, post-apocalyptic surroundings. Confirming with a calcted sweep that no other souls were present, he let out a chilled gloomy chuckle that reverberated ominously through the ruined space.

    From the moment the warning spell had been triggered, alerting him to the intrusion, to the instant he swiftly left the banquet hall and took the elevator up to the seventh floor, the entire process had taken no more than two fleeting minutes. Yet after ascending to the upper levels, while the ambient magic levels on the nearby floors were all well within his monitoring range, the intruder who had brazenly barged in and caused this devastating disturbance had vanished without a trace, as if they had never existed.

    Like Hogwarts and many other magical venues, this Parisian hotel wasyered with intricately woven anti-apparition jinxes and an array of teleportation prevention spells, meticulously crafted to render any means a wizard could use for instantaneous movement utterly ineffective within its boundaries. In theory, such spells should have made it impossible for the intruder to simply disappear. However, the undeniable fact remained that this had somehow urred, defying all given logical exnation.

    Bryan tightened his fist, huffing deeply as a wand fell into his palm of hand. Lifting it up, he swept it horizontally in a well-practiced arc, conjuring up a strong gust of wind from above that smothered all the floating particles, sending them whirling back down to the earth. Thendscape in front of him became clear again in an instant, the foggyyer of dust lifting to show the full scope of the destruction.

    Bryan''s body shook slightly as it hung there, momentarily suspended in the surrounding wind, then heunched himself at the crumbling Vi.

    <em>''Who could have done this?''</em>

    The name Vipor Dreghorn immediately sprang to Bryan''s mind. It was unsurprising to have such a suspicion, was it not? The resentful, venomous look Dreghorn had cast just tens of minutes earlier when Bryan had left the hotel remained etched in his memory.

    However, Bryan would not jump to the hasty conclusion that the culprit was definitively Vipor Dreghorn, infuriated by the insult to his honor and acting out in a fit of rage. Could Durmstrang or Beauxbatons not also be suspected to some degree? One could never be too sure!

    Logically speaking, neither of the two schools wouldmit such a foolish, brazen act, because the people who had secretly orchestrated this trouble must have surely known that Hogwarts and the British Ministry of Magic would undoubtedly investigate the matter thoroughly. If any shred of evidence implicated them, let alone hosting the Triwizard Tournament, this ancient event symbolizing cultural exchange and friendship could be outright cancelled.

    But... if some crazy people were truly willing to gamble everything on the assumption that they could leave no trail behind...

    Gazing down at the heap of scattered debris and fractured masonry, Bryan''s eyes darkened with brooding thoughts.

    Igor Karkaroff... That man did not seem like an upright wizard and his mind did not appear particrly sharp either. Previously, he had also left the banquet hall hastily after Dreghorn''s dramatic exit.

    <strong>Tap--</strong>

    Bryan lightly floated back down to the rubble-scattered ground, his expression nk.

    How intriguing... The two men who stayed with him in the hotel rooms, Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman, had also departed the banquet hall early. Had they really gone back to their rooms as nned, the burr would never have been able to cause as much damage as he did. However, it so happened that one had imed to have to put in extra hours at the Ministry, and the other had ventured out in search of "thrills" in the thriving Parisian nightlife; none of them had been in their rooms at the critical moment when the incident had urred.

    <strong>Hum--</strong>

    Under the influence of magic, broken wooden beams and shattered marble bricks levitated from the ground, hovering suspended in mid-air.

    Holding an eggshell-white magical wand, Bryan strode through the ruins with uneven steps. After a cursory sweep of the decimated space, he pinpointed the location of his own room, or what remained of it amidst the sea of devastation.

    Every furnishing inside had been reduced to an unrecognizable state; the ce had been utterly decimated, as if a raging firestorm had torn through it, consuming all in its path. ording to the lingering magical traces in the air, numerous sources of powerful magic had manifested here. They had used a powerful explosive curse to obliterate the Vi before abruptly vanishing.

    Amidst the powdery debris scattered across the floor, not a single scrap of paper could be found¨C the interior had been scoured clean, leaving not a single clue as to the identities of the perpetrators. However, Bryan did discover some ckened ashes.

    His prating gaze swept the surroundings once more. Several minutester, after a meticulous examination of the ashen remains, Bryan could finally confirm that the ck ashes were likely the remnants of his own security protocols.

    This was no personal grudge, it seemed. The opponent''s objective was clear: to prevent Hogwarts from hosting the Triwizard Tournament. Moreover, the perpetrators were experienced, their violent demolition of the VI not intended as an insult to Bryan, but rather as a calcted effort to conceal any evidence of their presence here.

    Under Bryan''s control, an irregrly shaped brick shifted position, revealing his self-designed alchemical device -- a Monitoring Lens/Mirror buried beneath it.

    Bryan approached and crouched down, nudging the now-unrecognizable monitoring Lens with his finger, his expression somber.

    Out of habitual caution, although Bryan did not expect anyone tounch a surprise attack while he was away, he had still ced a Monitoring mirror with video storage capabilities in the bedroom. However, precisely because this mirror had been positioned in his room which was the epicenter of the explosion, that the mirror enhanced with concealment and basic defensive spells had been utterly obliterated.

    Bryan briefly inspected the mirror''s internal magical pathways before dismissing his idea of repairing it.

    Perhaps the only part of the room that remained mostly undamaged after the incident was the illusion magic that created the false sky overhead. This magical canopy, which looked a lot like the enchantment above Hogwarts'' Great Hall, was made to detect when someone entered the home and to reflect the night sky outside by creating a fleeting, shimmering dance of light and shadow across its shimmering breadth.

    As an international metropolis, the bright neon lights of Paris outshone nature''s grandeur, obscuring any glimpse of the stars for both Muggles and wizards alike, leaving this as the only means to appreciate the dreamlike, dazzling constetions.

    Bathed in this soft starlight that opposed the devastation surrounding him, Bryan silently gazed at the now utterly destroyed monitoring mirror in his hands for a long time, before an amused smile crept onto the corners of his lips.

    After carefully collecting the mirror''s scattered remnants, Bryan cast one final nce at the surrounding ruins. However, he had no intention of wasting his precious time and energy on attempting to repair the once luxurious vi that had been his temporary residence.

    "Leave it as is for now--" Bryan murmured softly. "I''m rather curious to see what exnations you all have to offer for this...delightful turn of events."

    The guest room was certainly uninhabitable in its current state. Although Bryan''s luggage contained a travel tent capable of providing basic amodations, he had no interest in spending the night amidst this ash-choked pile of debris reeking of char. Turning towards the exit, he prepared to seek out the hotel staff and find another room. The bill, after all, would be forwarded to the Ministry of Magic.

    "Mr. Watson?"

    Thevish banquet had just concluded, and many hotel guests still lingered in the dimly lit corridors of the seventh and sixth floors.

    Madame Maxime and Fleur were engaged in hushed conversation wwhen Bryan appeared out of nowhere, his trouser cuffs covered with ash. That startled them both.

    Have you encountered some problems?" Madam Maxime raised her eyebrows and asked in a calm voice, "Do you need any help, Mr. Watson?"

    "Oh, Madame Maxime, and Miss Dcour--"

    In that unexpected moment of encounter, numerous thoughts shed through Bryan''s mind. He reined in the traces of astonishment on his features, offering a mellow smile instead.

    Bryan met Madame Maxime''s gaze, his smile tinged with remorseful amusement as he replied, "Ah yes, I''ve run into some trouble, you see... The house copsed."

    "The house copsed?!"

    Madame Maxime and Fleur exchanged bewildered ncesden with unspoken meaning, clearly unsure how to interpret Bryan''s words.

    <em>''Not Beauxbatons.''</em>

    Bryan immediately arrived at this conclusion after scrutinizing their reactions. Whether judging experience and instincts honed over decades, or relying on innate magical auras that he could perceive with his heightened senses, the confusion and astonishment disyed by the two from Beauxbatons was not feigned ¨C their innocence in this matter was undeniable.

    "Indeed--" Bryan''s smile became more genuine as he shrugged in a disy of dramatic resignation. "I was experimenting with magic in my room, dabbling in some new theoretical applications, and unfortunately, there was an incident that left the interior in quite a mess, as you can see. Oh, what a misfortune! It seems we may have to pay a rather hefty sum to reimburse the hotel for the damages incurred."

    Experimenting with potentially vtile magic while still dressed in such formal attire?

    Rejecting her invitation... This was an unprecedented urrence, so he immediately had such bad luck?

    Fleur''s long eyshes fluttered, her lips pursing as if suppressing a smile. However, a thought quickly urred to her, and her blue eyes danced in their sockets before she said sympathetically, "Oh, how unfortunate, Mr. Watson. So, where are you going to stay?"

    "I nned to ask the hotel staff for another room," Bryan brushed off the ash from his trouser cuffs and said. "Hopefully Barty won''t throw a fit over this in the morning."

    "I''m afraid your n won''t work, Mr. Watson--" Madame Maxime''s voice was serious. "You may not be fully aware, but this Famous Goblin-owned hotel''s business is absolutely booming at present. All guest rooms require advance booking well in advance, so they are highly unlikely to be able to provide you with any additional amodations outside of their previously arranged allotments."

    "Er--" This point had indeed escaped Bryan''s consideration.

    "Why not invite Mr. Watson to stay with us?" Fleur''s lips curved into a smile as she spoke lightly, meeting Madame Maxime''s surprised and Bryan''s somewhat uneasy gazes. "The vi is quite spacious, with numerous rooms avable, is it not, Madame?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0370 Hermioneâ€™s Class

    0370 Hermione¡¯s ss

    In Paris, where the romantic ambiance blended with historical grandeur, Bryan became entangled in matters affecting Hogwarts. Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, Hermione had been nervous all day. She had just been assigned to help with what appeared to be a physical education ss, but was, ording to Fred and George, actually a military training course.

    As the gloomy sky darkened, her state became increasingly hysterical.

    After dinner, in the noisymon room, the small groups involved in this ss had gradually gathered. Hermione paced back and forth by the firece, imagining the situations that might urter. Her anxious appearance made the already nervous Neville appear even more helpless.

    "No need to be so tense, Hermione¡ª"

    Hermione and Neville had been appointed as assistants by Professor Watson, which was absolutely a good thing for Gryffindor. Harry was also pleased about this.

    "If anything happens, we won''t just stand by."

    "You don''t understand, Harry!" Hermione muttered distractedly, her mind consumed by the weight of her responsibilities.

    "Something is bound to happen, right? I must be fully prepared so as not to betray Professor Watson''s trust. If Professor Watson returns and sees that the physical education ss he values so much has disbanded, I will definitely be expelled from Hogwarts!"

    Hermione''s ominous assumption made Neville even more nervous. He helplessly darted his eyes around, hoping someone could offer a reasonable suggestion.

    "But Professor Watson has given you authority, hasn''t he?" Ron interjected; his voiceing with the crunch of a potato pie as he relished in Hermione''s frantic appearance.

    "If those slimy Slytherin snakes dared to cause trouble, you could have them clean all the castle''s bathrooms. I think you should talk to Percy; he has a book called ''How Prefects Gain Power.'' When Percy knew that he was appointed as a prefect that summer, he always kept that book in his hands. Rumor has it that it contains a thousand legal reasons to detain young wizards in detention."

    Neville''s eyes lit up, looking like he wanted to say something but didn''t know how. However, Hermione sternly stopped him.

    "We can''t abuse our authority, Neville!"

    "If you''re really worried about ssroom discipline, Hermione¡ª" Harry hesitated for a moment before offering a more sensible suggestion. "I can ask Sirius. I think if he appears in the ssroom, those Slytherins definitely won''t dare cause you any trouble."

    This method was indeed not bad, and even Hermione was somewhat moved. However, after brief contemtion, Hermione still shook her head slightly.

    "Professor Watson obviously hopes we''ll get some training, so this is our own matter. What''s the point of seeking Sirius''s help?"

    "Malfoy, that little bastard won''t care about righteousness and morality, silly girl," Fred''s voice rang out in a light tone as the mischievous twins descended the rotating staircase, their footsteps echoing with a sense of unrestrained energy.

    "Regardless, we need to rely on ourselves," Hermione said, the gleam in her eyes gradually bing resolute.

    Harry and Ron exchanged a helpless nce, their shoulders shrugging in unison. They both knew Hermione very well; she was brilliant but sometimes liked to go down dead ends. Moreover, once she made up her mind about something, not even ten dragons could pull her back.

    It was already past seven o''clock in the evening. The Gryffindor group was ready to go, seeing that Hermione still couldn''tpletely shake off her tense mood. Ron tossed the remaining potato pie into his mouth and stood up as well.

    "I can call Seamus and Dean. If that little bastard Malfoy dares to cause trouble for you, just give us a signal, and we''ll rush in and give him a good beating."

    "Oh¡ª" Hermione raised an eyebrow, looking at Ron with a slight smile shing across her lips. However, she eventually took a deep breath and said seriously, "Thank you, Ron, but I don''t think that will work."

    "Don''t worry, we''ll keep an eye on her for you!" Fred and George said, ruffling Ron''s hair vigorously before leaving arm in arm. Harry didn''t have a chance to say goodbye to Ron, as he was busy encouraging Neville. After all,pared to Hermione, the pressure Neville would face as an assistant was obviously a bit greater.

    Ron stood on the sofa by the firece, watching the stream of people leave themon room. For some reason, he suddenly felt a pang of difort in his heart.

    "Hey, Ron, want to y a round of gobstones?" Dean waved at him from a few seats away.

    "Okay¡ª" Ron shook his head, pushing aside the strange feeling, and sat down across from Dean, avoiding the obstructing sofa.

    "Have you finished the essay Professor Sprout assigned, Dean?"

    "No¡ª" Dean bent his head, fiddling with the props. He replied casually, "But there are still a few days left, right?"

    "Oh, of course!" Ron shook his head, his expression gradually bing calm.

    On their way to the special ssroom, Hermione and the others encountered Luna, who was climbing the stairs alone. However, her face showed no sign of unease or loneliness.

    "Good evening, Luna¡ª" Hermione nced at the pocket behind Luna''s bottom, where she had rolled up the sheaf of parchment Professor Watson had given her, supposedly allowing one to see annoying Wrackspurts and crumple-horned Snorkacks, and tucked it in the back.

    "How are you feeling?" Hermione inquired tentatively, her voiceced with genuine concern.

    "Very good," Luna said cheerfully. However, her silvery eyes revealed a strange emotion that was quite contagious. Even Hermione''s furrowed brow unconsciously rxed after meeting that gaze.

    "I can see them more clearly now," Luna exined, her voice brimming with an infectious enthusiasm. "Which means perhaps one day I can avoid their harassment. Oh, my father will definitely be surprised by the depth of Professor Watson''s research on them. Today, I was considering whether to write him a letter about these methods¡ª"

    No one responded to Luna''s words, or rather, they wanted to reply but didn''t know how.

    Hermione nced curiously at the rolled-up parchment tucked behind Luna''s bottom and, after a moment''s thought, she carefully suggested, "Um, you mean you want to show your father Professor Watson''s research notes on those Wrackspurts? Er, I think it''s best to get Professor Watson''s permission first."

    After a few simple conversation, Gryffindor''s group had arrived at the physical education ssroom. The Hufflepuff students had almost all gathered, and the remaining three Ravenw girls had also arrived. Harry wondered why they didn''t invite Luna along, but when he saw the tall, thin figure of Cedric Diggory surrounded by the group of Ravenw girls, his mood soured inexplicably, and he forgot about standing up for Luna.

    Some Slytherins had also arrived. They nced indifferently at the Gryffindor group before returning their gaze and continuing their own conversation.

    Professor Watson had often been absent for entire days recently, and even during mealtimes, he was nowhere to be seen at the staff table. Therefore, the students from the other three houses were unaware of his departure.

    Over the next ten minutes, the ssroom door opened and closed ceaselessly, as the remaining students trickled in, gradually filling the room. Malfoy and Parkinson also entered during this period. They were all waiting for Professor Watson, who habitually appeared at thest moment.

    Harry eavesdropped on Cedric''s conversation with the three Ravenw girls, but as the ss start time approached, his attention returned to Hermione and Neville. Neville looked hopeless, standing as stiff as a block of wood, while Hermione, noticing Harry''s worried gaze as she tried to calm herself with rapid breaths, gave him a reassuring look.

    "Ahem!"

    At precisely 7:59 p.m., Hermione''s voice rang out, a sharp cough that reverberated through the room ¨C This was a pre-arranged signal. The Gryffindor students immediately began lining up, while the students from the other three houses, however, found themselves bewildered by this sudden disy, their expressions a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

    Neville also tried to return to his position, but Hermione grabbed him and held him back.

    The trembling, sweat-drenched Neville immediately made the young wizards in the room, whose observational skills had been honed, realize that something might happen.

    Some were curious, while others remained indifferent.

    "Ahem!" Hermione''s voice rang out once more, a deliberate cough that once again caught everyone''s attention. Her piercing gaze fell upon Luna, who was standing off to the side in a daze.

    "What?" Pansy Parkinson sneered. "Did your throat get clogged with frog brains, Granger?"

    Laughter immediately broke out in the ssroom, mostly from the Slytherins, though some Hufflepuffs also found Parkinson''s words funny.

    "In fact!" Hermione''s voice rang out, clear and unwavering, her resolve steeled by the mockery that sought to challenge her. In that moment, the anxiety that had previously gripped her heart dissipated, reced by a newfound determination that burned brightly within her heart.

    Her gaze did not linger upon Pansy Parkinson, nor did she tried to acknowledge the insult. Instead, her eyes swept across the assembled students, her voice carrying the weight of authority as she said loudly,

    "Professor Watson left Hogwarts this morning on business. To prevent any disruption to the progress of this ss, before leaving, he appointed me, as well as Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, as assistants for this ss to supervise the daily training during his absence from school. Now,"

    Hermione paused, drawing a deep, steadying breath, her resolution unwavering even in the face of the Slytherins''s contemptuous reactions to her words. "I hope you will line up quickly so we can begin today''s training!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0371 A Contest (Part-1)

    0371 A Contest (Part-1)

    The Hufflepuff students looked at each other, unsure whether to follow Hermione''s instructions. Ernie Macmin and Justin Finch-Fletchley exchanged nces and shook their heads in secret. Hermione Granger was quite famous at school, and many professors highly appreciated her academic performance. However, she was ultimately just a third-year witch, wasn''t she?

    Having two third-years and one second-year student be teaching assistants for this ss, there were truly not many who could ept it wholeheartedly.

    If it had been Cedric, the Hufflepuffs would have no objections.

    "Oh, congrattions--" But there were also those in Hufflepuff who held different opinions. Hannah smiled and nodded at Hermione, "I believe you all will do very well."

    "Thank you--"

    Hermione responded with a friendly smile.

    "Well, if it is really Professor Watson''s decision--"

    Cedric also seemed a bit dissatisfied, but out of respect for Professor Watson, he did not raise any objections.

    Well, everything was different from expectations; and the biggest problem still came from Slytherin. Not a single young wizard from this house obeyed the orders. Theyzily stood in ce, staring at Hermione and Neville with mocking eyes.

    Disdain shone in Draco''s pale gray eyes. He stared at Hermione for a while, and when his gaze turned to Neville, he almost burst outughing at Neville''s silent appearance. As for the Loony Lovegood from Ravenw, Draco just nced at her before losing interest.

    "I believe you all heard what I said, didn''t you?"

    Hermione''s breathing became slightly heavier as she red at the Slytherin students and repeated in a heavier voice, "We don''t have much time to waste, we should start as soon as--"

    "Why should we follow your orders?"

    Unexpectedly, Draco did note out to cause trouble, but it was almost as if he did. After receiving a cue, Pansy Parkinson arrogantly raised her chin, "Just because of your beaver-like front teeth?"

    Pansy''s taunt instantly provoked roaringughter from the Slytherin crowd, and even students from the other two houses who did not harbor much enmity towards Hermione secretly cracked smiles.

    Hermione''s cheeks immediately flushed red, but her eyes did not show any retreat. She was about to refute Parkinson''s words, but Harry was a step ahead of her. He swiftly drew his wand, stood in front of Hermione with a red face,

    "Oh, how interesting!"

    Harry pointed his wand at Pansy and shouted, "You have the nerve to mock others with that pug-like face of yours, Parkinson?"

    The atmosphere in the entire ssroom erupted due to Harry''s words. Before Hermione could stop Harry''s sharp but urate statement, Parkinson over there was already screaming and cursing. The moment Harry drew his wand, Draco also took out his own, shielding Pansy in front of him.

    "Apologize, Potter!" Draco''s pale gray eyes flickered with rage. "Or I''ll make you pay for your words!"

    "Are you deaf, Malfoy?" Harry said coldly, "Why don''t you listen to what Parkinson said to Hermione!"

    "Oh, how amusing--"

    Fred and George also stepped forward, each cing a hand on Harry''s shoulder and ring at Draco, "We''d like to see how you n to make Harry pay, little mutt?"

    "Want to fight, Weasley?"

    Marcus Flint, the oldest Slytherin here and even a former junior of Bryan, rolled up his sleeves and struck a gori-like posture, snarling, "I hope you perform better than on the Quidditch pitch. By the way, how many times have you dimwits lost to us?"

    "Hey, this isn''t looking good!"

    Seeing chaos about to erupt, most Hufflepuffs chose to stay out of it, and a few young Ravenw girls had already paled under the tense atmosphere, unable to do anything. However, Cedric still stepped forward,

    "Let''s talk this out. I think Professor Watson wouldn''t want to see--"

    "This is none of your business, you big oaf!" Malfoy roared furiously, "How dare you insult me, Weasley? The blood-traitor Weasleys dare to insult the noble Malfoy family? You''re all doomed, my father won''t let you off!"

    Fred and George responded very directly. With a whoosh, they dashed out, agilely dodging Cedric''s attempt to grab them, and charged towards Malfoy. They leapt up, swinging their fists at Malfoy''s face. However, Marcus had already prepared himself. He rushed over and blocked Fred and George''s punches with his arms, and the three of them fell to the ground, and started wrestling!

    Ginny let out an angry cat-like shriek. She flung a curse at Malfoy, who was trying to help Flint. But their training during this period had certainly not been in vain. More than just Neville had improved. Malfoy pivoted, turned his head, and easily dodged Ginny''s curse.

    Whether it was spells or fists, Harry would not have the slightest fear!

    After Fred and George fell, Harry immediately tried to rush over, but Hermione who had foreseen it, grabbed his robe.

    "Don''t do this, Harry!"

    Before Harry could question her, Hermione shouted. She looked at thepletely out-of-control situation, panting heavily, and then, "Stop it!"

    Hermione''s shouting at the top of her lungs had no effect. Harry was struggling to break free, while on the other side, Fred and George were also brawling with Flint. Malfoy and Parkinson both wanted to curse the twins, but they kept switching positions with Flint, and because they were concerned about identally hitting Flint. Draco and Pansy had not yet found an opportunity.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    All the noises in the chaotic ssroom fell silent amid a tremendous rumble, nearly causing many young wizards to stumble and fall after the shaking!

    "Stop!"

    Hermione raised her wand high and shouted angrily again.

    This time, her shout had an effect.

    The emotionally charged Gryffindors and Slytherins fell quiet. Even Fred, George, and Flint, who were brawling, stopped throwing punches. Everyone stared in disbelief at the suits of armor lining the ssroom walls, which had brought them so much pain in the past.

    The recent rumbling was caused by these suits of armor marching in unison.

    They had already taken attacking postures. The scene of nearly a hundred suits of armor aiming Dung-bombs was a sight the young wizards had never witnessed before. Even during Professor Watson''s initial demonstration, they had never been targeted by so many suits of armor at the same time.

    <strong>nk, nk, nk¡ª</strong>

    Hermione''s eyes were full of determination. She hurried past Cedric and approached the Slytherins. Upon seeing Hermione rush out, Neville''s pale, dry lips moved, but before he could figure out what was happening, his body had already followed her.

    Luna did the same, though she seemedpletely unaware of the situation''s cause, a hint of wonder still on her young face. Under Harry''s gaze, she bounced along, trailing behind Hermione and Neville.

    "What do you want?"

    Hermione, of course, knew where the problem was. She approached Draco, tilting her head up and staring intently into his evasive gray eyes. "You should know, Malfoy, that if Professor Watson returns to find his ss in shambles, he''ll be furious. He won''t let any student who disrupted this ss off the hook."

    "So what?"

    Being confronted by a lowly Mudblood filled Draco with a surge of humiliated anger. He wanted tosh out, but considering Granger''s words did have some truth to them, and the fire zing in this girl''s eyes seemed capable of burning away all dark thoughts.

    Draco avoided answering directly, "You''d better watch your words, Granger. We didn''t intend to cause trouble, but--"

    Draco nced at the like-minded Slytherins behind him, as well as some of the Hufflepuffs.

    "I think many agree that Professor Watson made a mistake in his choice of teaching assistants."

    Malfoy tilted his head slightly forward, giving a fierce grin.

    "There was a mistake"

    Pansy Parkinson let out a stupid snickeringugh.

    "Alright, I understand--" Hermione didn''t get angry. She seemed to have expected Malfoy to say this. She simply nodded calmly, then turned to nce at Neville behind her, mustering who knows how much courage to stand here, and Luna, who didn''t seem to care much about the questioning of their assistant status.

    "Then--" Hermione took a deep breath. "Let''s have a contest, Malfoy, and anyone else who objects--"

    After the calm tone in which Hermione spoke those words, the ssroom fell utterly silent, even the hushed murmurs ceased. People stared intently at the thin frame of the girl, as if searching for the source of courage that seemed to emanate from her body.

    "A contest--"

    Malfoy''s brow furrowed, he leaned back, eyeing Hermione suspiciously. "Contest in what?"

    "Of course, a contest of the very skills we''re training in this ss, Malfoy," Hermione stated matter-of-factly, her voice pausing briefly before she looked at Malfoy with a mocking gaze. "Besides that, what other ss can you outperform me in? Oh, I''ll admit your superiority at Quidditch, of course."

    Hermione''s grades were the best in their year, but even in front of Harry and Ron, she rarely emphasized this. Apart from in sses, Hermione was rather modest in private, Harry had never seen her unt her grades publicly.

    Hermione''s words were irrefutable, Draco''s face darkened as he shot her a few resentful nces. The corners of his mouth curved into a sneer, he wanted to mock her, but before he could, Hermione, eager to resolve the chaos swiftly, looked at everyone and said.

    "In our current training, Cedric has achieved the best results. He canplete half the course ¨C two hundred feet ¨C under the assault of the Dung-bombs. No one else has exceeded two hundred feet."

    In truth, it was also a matter of resilience, some young wizards were more agile than Cedric, but the physical differences due to the age gap meant they couldn''t endure like him. Well, the big and strong Marcus Flint could probably take more hits, but his dodging and evasing skills were inferior to Cedric''s.

    "Professor Watson has selected me, Neville, and Luna as teaching assistants," Hermione stared at Malfoy with an intense gaze. "If anyone is dissatisfied with this, they can challenge us. The marker of victory is whoever can surpass Cedric''s two hundred feet the fastest. Of course, if someone manages to finish the entire course, they''ll also be dered the winner."

    Neville''s forehead was sweating profusely, and his pale lips were trembling, but Hermione seemed to have anticipated Neville''s reaction. She turned to look at him, her clear brown eyes reflecting the firelight.

    "Remember Professor Watson''s assessment of you, Neville. He believes you''re excellent."

    Hermione didn''t reveal Professor Watson''s evaluation of Neville because she knew it would inevitably subject him to ridicule. Moreover, she herself had some doubts about the professor''s opinion of Neville, but for now, she could only believe his judgement, believe Neville.

    The flickering fire in Hermione''s eyes seemed to hold a unique power. Gazing into those mes, Neville felt as though he too would be ignited. His heart still pounded erratically, his mind swam, but gradually, a flush crept onto Neville''s pale cheeks. This rosy hue, like a spark igniting dry tinder, swiftly zed into an inferno.

    "Well then, bring it on, Malfoy!" Neville suddenly whipped his head around, panting heavily as he red at Malfoy, shouting abruptly.

    "Longbottom, you''re just humiliating yourself!" Malfoy snarled through gritted teeth.

    Harry blinked, watching the furious Neville beside Hermione, suddenly unable to connect him with the clumsy Gryffindor boy he knew. But Neville''s disy undoubtedly rallied everyone''s spirits, prompting apuse and cheers like crashing waves.

    Luna fixed her protruding, misty eyes on Malfoy. "Questioning the decisions of those wiser than yourself will only bring you trouble, and it''s foolish."

    Draco hesitated for a moment, but things hade to this point, and he was in a dilemma but couldn''t back down.

    "Very well--" he said coldly, scanning the Slytherin crowd briefly before picking out their top performers in this ss. "Three on three, Zabini, Nott, and me. If any of you loses, you''ll have to resign as Professor Watson''s assistant!"

    "You''re trying to cheat, Malfoy!" Harry saw that this contest would be unfavorable for Hermione''s group. Malfoy and hisckeys could easily target one of the three of Hermione''s group, forcing that person to forfeit their assistant position. To be honest, Harry wanted to take Hermione or Neville''s ce, but he understood this was their issue. Even if he participated and defeated those despicable Slytherins, they wouldn''t stop causing trouble.

    "No problem--" At Hermione''s questioning look, Luna readily agreed, rising onto her tiptoes.

    "I''ll be the referee."

    Cedric also stepped forward.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0372 A Contest (Part-2)

    0372 A Contest (Part-2)

    "I''ll be the referee."

    Cedric stepped forward.

    The six of them took their usual starting positions for training, while the others made room. The Ravenws and Hufflepuffs were greatly invested in this contest without the supervision of professors, and they whispered together about the potential oue.

    And the Gryffindor and Slytherin, who were clearly divided, were on guard against each other. They didn''t trust each other and thought that the other side would y dirty when the game was going on.

    Harry noticed Hermione rolling up her sleeves and using a hair tie to tie up her messy locks. Then, with a calm expression, she crouched into a ready stance. Though Hermione had been tense in themon room earlier, she now seemed to have shed all her burdens.

    "Begin!" At Cedric''s shout, the six contestants shot forward like arrows released from bows.

    Truth be told, if it was just over a month ago, Harry would never have believed these young wizards could move with such agility.

    Within the first fifty feet, each of them disyed reflexes that would astound Ron and the others who had abandoned this ss long ago. The six contestants used their unique evasive styles to dodge the iing Dung-bombs. For a while, the figures on the field were flying, and all kinds of thrilling maneuvers emerged one after another.

    To be fair, Malfoy was indeed diligent in this ss.

    He was used to the Dung-bombs rhythm of attack, he precisely timed the gaps between the wave of attacks to sprint forward, evading with pinpoint uracy that forced Harry to admit ¨C in this ss, Malfoy had be his rival once more.

    "Oh, look at Longbottom and Lovegood!"

    To Harry''s regret, Hermione failed to show extraordinary skill, being the only one struck by a Dung-bomb before the fifty-foot line. At this rate, she would undoubtedly lose the contest.

    Harry''s focus was solely on Malfoy and Hermione until Hannah Abbott of Hufflepuff gasped in astonishment. He hurriedly shifted his gaze to observe Hermione''s two teammates and was instantly dumbstruck.

    <em>''Was that really Neville?! And what was going on with Luna?!''</em>

    Prior to the fifty-foot mark, everyone''s progress was roughly equal. But once they crossed that first stamina-draining threshold, while the speed of others visibly slowed, Neville suddenly let out a gruff roar, his elerating figure like a young lion pouncing on its prey!

    Neville disyed a jaw-dropping agility once more!

    As everyone else decelerated, he abruptly sped up, overtaking them all. A Dung-bombs came hurtling at his chin from a tricky angle, but just as the afterimage neared Neville''s side within five feet, he made an abrupt feint, sweeping his hand through the air before whipping the Dung-bombs in another direction!

    <strong>Smack!</strong>

    Two Dung-bombs collided forcefully mid-air, foul-smelling mess sttering everywhere!

    "Longbottom!" ise Zabini roared furiously. He was not expecting this and was sshed in the eyes by the smelly liquid that exploded in front of him. He staggered to a halt, clutching his face and howling in pain.

    "Foul y!" Pansy Parkinson screeched from the crowd, her face twisting. "Longbottom should be disqualified for that sneak attack!"

    It was hard to tell if it was an ident or intentional on Neville''s part, but apart from the Slytherins, no one could deny being impressed by Neville''s brilliant move!

    Beyond the hundred-and-fifty-foot mark, most contestants were visibly struggling, with one exception ¨C Luna!

    When Harry turned his gaze towards Luna, he was struck by an astonishing sight.

    Up until that distance line, Malfoy, Nott, Neville, and Hermione had each been hit by several Dung-bombs to varying degrees. Hermione in particr, whose athletic ability was not as good as that of Cho Chang, and girls''s physical strength was generallygging behind boys - in previous training sessions, Hermione would have already copsed by the 150-foot line. But tonight, bolstered by resolve and perseverance, she performed somewhat better than usual.

    However, just as Professor Watson had once said, willpower can indeed ignite one''s determination to pursue strength, but it cannot help you instantaneously bridge vast gaps in power.

    From Hermione''s increasingly clumsy footsteps, it was clear she was nearing her limit.

    But what was going on with Luna?

    "She actually dodged all the Dung-bombs?" Ginny voiced Harry''s bewilderment in an astonished tone.

    Luna had never disyed any outstanding ability before; her performance in this ss was utterly unremarkable - neither at the bottom nor the top. But now, her performance had stunned everyone.

    "Could she have been hiding her true strength all along?" Parvati also muttered quietly.

    Just as Ginny said, among all thepetitors present, Luna was the only one who hadn''t been hit by a single Dung-bomb.

    Whether it was the speed of advancement or evasive maneuvers, Luna had not showed abilities far exceeding others. Yet those Dung-bombs flying right at her just.......missed herpletely, not even grazing her robes!

    "That girl is cheating!" Pansy Parkinson snapped. "She must have tampered with the armor using her position as a teaching assistant!"

    "If you can''t provide solid proof, Parkinson," Harry said coldly, "then shut your mouth!"

    Harry''s icy rebuke made Parkinson''s face flush red. But the fact was, Harry himself was equally perplexed.

    Luna looked far too at ease!

    Her bouncing, skipping demeanor reminded Harry of the hopscotch craze that had swept his Muggle primary school for a time.

    From his own experience with this training, Harry mainly relied on two methods to evade the iing Dung-bombs. The first was straightforward; for anything within his field of vision - simply dodge aside when physically able. As for those outside his vision, like onesing from the sides or rear, he mainly depended on his hearing to detect their whistling approach from a certain distance.

    Harry was certain that Neville''s surprisingly good performance today was due to using these methods. But Luna seemedpletely different.

    Several times, Harry noticed Luna suddenly leap aside.......when there were no Dung-bombs anywhere nearby. Only after she changed position would the Dung-bombse hurtling towards her previous position!

    This was simply inconceivable! Could she somehow see into the future?-<em>*Observation-Haki*</em>

    Harry gazed at the short Luna with a slightly dazed, utterly baffled expression.

    Draco who was already struggling suddenly heard a breezy, tuneless humming in his ear. Before he could react, the Ravenw girl he had never taken seriously nimbly skipped past him, bizarrely hopping sideways a few times before easily avoiding another barrage.

    Draco himself was not so lucky.

    A momentarypse in concentration, coupled with his already severely depleted stamina, cost him the opportunity to evade. A series of Dung-bombs struck his back and stomach in rapid session - agonizing areas to be hit. Combined with the rotten stench, Malfoy could no longer bear it.

    Losing his bnce, the vomiting Malfoy tumbled over and over on the ground. Yet at that moment, his position was just a few steps from the 200-foot line.

    No matter what, Draco could not ept the shame of failing toplete the course.

    Using one hand to shield the back of his neck, he crawled forward in a prone position. But just as he was a few steps away from the 200 feet line, a sudden gust of wind from behind made Draco''s face fall in despair.

    At least three Dung-bombs were iing simultaneously!

    After all this training, everyone was well aware of the Dung-bombs''s terrifying impact force. With his physical strength exhausted to this extent, Draco knew there was no way he could withstand this assault!

    But then, a dark blur suddenly obscured the torchlight. Next, Draco felt a gust if wind whip past over his head.

    <strong>St! St! St!</strong>

    His pale blonde hair was now drenched in foul liquid, but Draco had no chance to worry about it. He slowly sat up, staring dumbly as Neville retracted his whipping leg and extended a hand to pull him up. For a moment, Draco was at aplete loss.

    "You lost, Malfoy." Neville pulled Malfoy to his feet, locking eyes with Draco''s widened grey orbs. For the first time, he felt that he was no longer tormented by panic.

    "Questioning the decisions of those wiser than you is foolish--" Luna, standing beside Neville, tilted her head and repeated the words from before the contest began in a light voice. To Draco''s astonishment, this little girl showed barely any signs of exertion beyond a slight shine on her forehead; even her breathing was barely disordered.

    Nott had copsed about ten feet away from the 200-feet line, wailing helplessly, this was on par with his usual level. Draco opened his mouth, but ultimately he didn''t bother reprimanding him.

    However, when his gaze fell on Hermione, still stubbornly pressing on a few paces behind Nott, the words slipped uncontrobly from his lips:

    "At least I beat Granger. By the rules, she has to resign from her position as Professor Watson''s assistant."

    This was indeed an indisputable fact that neither Neville nor Luna refuted.

    Looking at Hermione, who was almost covered in sticky and smelly liquid, but still gritted her teeth and staggered to avoid the Dung-bombs, a surge of anger from deep within made his eyes burn hot.

    "This isn''t worth it, Hermione--" Ginny covered her mouth, and Harry could hear the sob in her murmured voice.

    Time seemed to be frozen, everything in front of her was blurred, and the unbearable swelling and pain all over her body made Hermione want to burst into tears. In a trance, she suddenly wondered why she had joined Professor Watson''s physical education ss in the first ce.

    The initial reason was just curiosity.

    This was almost the only reason any young witch or wizard was willing to persist in this boring, arduous course after experiencing it.

    After joining the Hogwarts faculty, Professor Watson demonstrated his deep knowledge and power through a series of incidents, making every student hope to learn shy magic from his new ss.

    Hermione too hoped to glimpse Professor Watson''s brilliance in this ss. After initial confusion, she became convinced that his course was definitely not so simple - and if she gave up easily, she would surely regret it. Though pure physical training was not her forte, she excelled more at seeking truth in the vast ocean of magical knowledge.

    "Just give up, Granger, you''ve already lost!" Hermione heard Malfoy growling through gritted teeth, but she didn''t pay any attention to it at all. Moreover, she didn''t realize that she had just broken the ss record previously set by Cedric, the best in this ss with her arduous, stumbling progress.

    Though her academic performance was consistently at the top across all subjects, even Harry and Ron could not understand the fear in her heart.

    This sense of dread came from her Muggle origins. Although Hogwarts did not discriminate against Muggle-born students under Dumbledore, Hermione''s sensitive heart could never fully escape the prevalent pure-blood supremacist attitude of the wizarding world. This was also one reason she persisted in this ss - Professor Watson was a Slytherin alumnus, but he is also a Muggle-born wizard who had achieved tremendous acim throughout the Wizarding world.

    Hermione hoped to one day be as aplished as Professor Watson, to prove that even Muggle-born witches and wizards could attain remarkable achievements through sheer hard work and perseverance.

    "Ugh!"

    A sudden stabbing pain shot through her struck shoulder de, and the powerful impact made Hermione, who was staggering, unable to maintain her bnce and copse to the ground.

    The stinky Dungbomb liquid practically reced sweat streaming down her young face. But the lonely, disheveled figure of the struggling Hermione, and the unwavering determination emanating from her frail back, moved most of the young witches and wizards in the ssroom.

    Gradually, Hermione felt the pain leaving her body. She had no more suffering, no more grievance - only a burning conviction in her heart driving her forward.

    Yes, she has always kept Professor Watson''s words close to her heart.

    Love and hate are both powerful emotions capable of imbuing one with the determination to pursue their dreams. However, they cannot help you instantly bridge vast gaps in power.

    Hermione knew she could not suddenly be exceptionally talented in this ss. She knew that she would not reach the record set by Cedric faster than the Slytherins participating in this contest. So from the start, her only goal was simply:

    To reach the finish line!

    It was such an arduous journey, more distant than the path from the Entrance Hall to the Sorting Hat on her first night at Hogwarts - as if it had no end.

    Hermione, who was half conscious, seemed to hear Harry shouting something, and she seemed to hear Ginny crying, but now she no longer had the energy to care about these things, she just wanted to move forward!

    Watching the girl straining with every ounce of her effort, just to crawl a little farther, Draco did not realize that the shame and anger on his face had quietly faded, reced by pure bewilderment.

    He could not understand what would drive that Mudblood to go to such extremes.

    And yet, this did not prevent his very soul from being greatly shaken!

    "Alright, Granger!"

    Unexpectedly, Draco''s shout filled every corner of the ssroom.

    "You win!"

    The struggling girl''s lips finally curved into a faint smile. Then her eyes rolled back as she passed out, her head lying to the side.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0373 Unexpected

    0373 Unexpected

    Just as Madam Maxime had said, when Bryan sought out the hotel staff requesting another room, he was informed that all rooms had been booked by the wizards from various countries who came here on official business. Even the staff quarters had been rented out, forcing the hotel employees to squeeze into theundry room for sleep during this period.

    Of course, Bryan would never choose to share a vi with the Beauxbatons delegation.

    It was not a matter of room avability, but rather, the fear of rumors.

    If someone inadvertently discovered he had spent a night inside the Beauxbatons delegates''s quarters without leaving, who knows what kind of scandalous gossip might spread! In the end, he returned to that messy room, pitching a tent on an undamaged patch ofwn and making do for the night.

    "Are you certain?"

    Barty Crouch''s terrifying expression as he gazed upon the copsed vi reminded Bryan of his determined attempt to have Peter sentenced to death at the Wizengamot trial.

    The head of the International Magical Cooperation Department at the British Ministry of Magic turned ashen, his eyes bulging with fury and his face contorted with a ferocious re like that of a red-eyed gambler who had risked everything and lost!

    "Are you sure Beauxbatons had no involvement in this?"

    Bryan could understand why Barty was so furious. First, infiltrating their room, destroying their quarters and the security ns they had prepared was like humiliating the British Ministry in front of the world. As the Ministry''s representative, Barty felt the sting of this insult deeply.

    Moreover, the Triwizard Tournament was Barty''s "crowning political achievement," the pinnacle of his ambitions. Should this event unfold sessfully under his watchful guidance, with Hogwarts serving as the host, his reputation within the British wizarding world would soar to unprecedented heights, an achievement that would instantly add his name in the annals of history.

    If fortune truly smiled upon him, and Hogwarts emerged victorious as the champion of the Triwizard Tournament, it would be a moment of immeasurable joy for Barty, a resounding triumph that would wash away the endless humiliation inflicted by his prodigal son, whose actions had decimated Barty''s lifelong dedication, and the adverse impact it had caused, could finally be swept away.

    Yet now, someone was once again attempting to obstruct his long-awaited path to redemption, Barty red at the ruins with bloodshot eyes, swearing on the honor of the Crouch family that he would make the culprit pay dearly!

    But who was the perpetrator of this act?

    Barty pondered this issue as well, his thoughts even moreplex than Bryan''s.

    At the very pinnacle of Barty''s list of suspects stood Vipor Dreghorn, whose reputation had suffered a crushing blow the previous night.

    This man was already at odds with Dumbledore and it was normal for him to extend his anger and resentment towards Hogwarts. Moreover, the humiliating experience he had endured at the party held the day before had provided him with the mostpelling motive, the necessary connections, and the ability to orchestrate such a brazen act.

    The second tier of suspects epassed the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang.

    As their directpetitors, they might do such a thing to undermine Hogwarts''s sessful bid to host.

    Furious as he was, Barty had not entirely lost his senses.

    The reason he ced these two schools in the second tier of suspicion was that Maxime and Karkaroff should know that if their involvement in such a wicked plot were to be exposed, the consequences would be far more severe than just losing the right to host the Tournament.

    The third tier of suspects, however, was shrouded in a moreplex andplicated web of uncertainty.

    Could Cornelius have yed an underhanded trick? It was certainly possible.

    As foolish as the Minister of Magic might appear at times, after so many years in his position, he should possess at least a measure of sense, that if he were to push Hogwarts into the position of the host, he would effectively be his greatest threat.

    For this reason, Amelia was also a suspect.

    The thought made Barty''s heart skip a beat! If Amelia had indeed given the order, could this be a case of the pot calling the kettle ck?"

    After all, this incident was utterly extraordinary ¨C a group had managed to infiltrate the heavily guarded hotel, demolish their assigned room with liberty, and slip away unnoticed, leaving not a single clue in their wake.

    Just how had they aplished such a feat? Were the hotel''s overhyped security measures merely a facade, a charade designed to instill a false sense of confidence, or had the hotel staff itself been coborating with the perpetrators?

    If indeed this was a case of the pot calling the kettle ck, Barty''s breath caught in his throat, a sensation akin to the constricting grip of an invisible hand. Maintaining an external facade ofposure, he moved his gaze to drift sidelong, settling upon the figure of Bryan standing with arms folded. But that one look left Barty visibly shaken, as he realized Bryan was scrutinizing him with the very same suspicious gaze!

    "You suspect me, Bryan?" Barty eximed, his disbelief evident in the tone of his voice. "That''s absurd! Why would I sabotage my own efforts?"

    "I did harbor some suspicion earlier, Barty. After all, you left the party firstst night and could have justifiably entered this room..."

    The words hung in the air, causing Barty''s face to contort into an even uglier form, but before he could explode, Bryan, who seemed to have shed the negative emotions that this incident had initially brought, smiled faintly and said, "However, just now, I have ruled out that possibility."

    Bryan''s words did little to improve the unsightly contortion of Barty''s features, and he was about to say something when the door, isted by the winding stone road, suddenly creaked open, allowing a sneaky head to poke through the narrowing gap.

    It was none other than Ludo Bagman, finally making his return after a night of unrestrained debauchery!

    "Aha, I knew you wouldn''t miss important business, Barty! You''re up awfully early!"

    Catching sight of Barty Crouch standing outside a tent with a face like a man about tomit murder, Ludo''s expression froze, the artificial grin he had stered upon his features turning into an awkward grimace. Then, his gaze shifted to Bryan''s subtly amused smile, and Ludo''s heart skipped yet another beat.

    "Bryan, you too? What in Merlin''s name happened to the Vi?"

    After Bryan had briefly summarized the situation, offering a concise yet thorough ount of the events that had transpired, Ludo''s expression, though noticeably better whenpared to the visage of Barty Crouch, remained grim.

    "What do we do now?"

    Ludo paced back and forth before them, as he actively wracked his brain, seeking countermeasures to this situation. "We...we of course need to find out who did this, right? Since Bryan says he has no leads, the Department probably has no good options either. Oh, Cornelius will absolutely have my head if he finds out this happened while I was away!"

    "He won''t be the only one, Ludo¡ª" Barty growled through gritted teeth, his words infused with a palpable undercurrent of menace that sent a shiver coursing down Ludo''s spine. "I have no intention of letting you off either!"

    "Besides Bryan, neither of us can say anything about the other. After all, oh..."

    Ludo fumbled, grasping at straws as he concocted a series of feeble excuses, trying to shirk responsibility for the cmity that had unfolded. But, catching sight of Barty''s expression that seemed to silently warn "utter another word and I''ll curse you into oblivion," Ludo instinctively shrank back, his neck retracting like a turtle seeking refuge within its protective shell as he hurriedly sought to divert the conversation.

    "I mean, the security n!"

    Wiping the cold beads of sweat that had formed upon his brow, Ludo hurriedly continued, his words tumbling forth in a torrent of urgency, "The investigation can wait, but our top priority is that n, Barty. That''s what''s most important!"

    "Thank you for the reminder, Ludo. I almost forgot!" The sarcasm that dripped from Barty''s every word was palpable, his bulging eyes ring at Ludo with an intensity that caused thetter to instinctively take two steps back, as if seeking to put additional distance between himself and the explosive fury that seemed to radiate from Barty''s very being.

    "No need to worry too much about the security n¡ª"

    At that moment, Bryan made a startling statement.

    Not worry? But this was the most crucial issue at hand!

    Counting the present day, they had just three days remaining before the event was set tomence, and they had no time to waste in starting over from scratch!

    Barty and Ludo both found themselves staring at Bryan, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and confusion as they tried to make sense of the utter nonsense that had just been uttered. Under their watchful, scrutinizing gazes, Bryan suddenly waved the wand that had been concealed within the folds of his sleeve.

    From the half-open tent door, hundreds upon hundreds of nk parchment sheets burst forth with a whooshing sound akin to a volley of cold arrows unleashed from the quivers of a thousand archers. The parchments arrayed themselves before the three wizards, forming an immense screen that rivaled the size of a muggle movie theater in both scale and spectacle.

    Immediately after the parchment sheets had assembled themselves into this vast projection screen, a quill, seeming to possess a mind of its own, flew out from the tent, hovering before Bryan with an almost.

    <strong>Ding¡ª</strong>

    "Besides being eloquent, I also have an excellent memory¡ª"

    As if responding to his words, dozens upon dozens of quills suddenly took flight, soaring to sky in a whirl of feathers and ink, each one rapidly inscribing the hovering parchments with streaks of text that seemed to materialize like afterimages.

    "I can essentially recall anything I''ve seriously read or written down myself¡ª"

    Observing the subtly shifting expressions that appeared across the faces of Barty and Ludo, equal parts bewilderment and dawning understanding, Bryan smiled faintly.

    "So, whoever did this was foolish to think they could obstruct me¡ª"

    Midway through his sentence, Bryan abruptly paused. Disregarding Barty Crouch, whose features had begun to radiate an unmistakable sense of relief at having narrowly escaped disaster, Bryan focused the full intensity of his narrowed gaze upon Ludo Bagman, whose lips had turned pale.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0374 Monitoring Lens

    0374 Monitoring Lens

    Having experienced the wondrous and bizarreness of the two worlds, with his own experiences being extraordinarily marvelous, Bryan had natural talent in Legilimency.

    Attempting to hide secrets from a wizard like Bryan was futile, unless one was an ''old fossil'' like Dumbledore. For a wizard of Ludo Bagman''s caliber, it was simply impossible.

    Within the fleeting span of a few minutes, the shattered security n was meticulously rewritten by Bryan. Barty clutched his ''career prospects'' with an iron grip, his face finally rxing into a calm expression, He let out a short sigh of relief, and when his gaze fell upon Bryan''s face, his eyes were tinged with a subtle hint of regret and wariness.

    What a pity, such talent would make an excellent ally.

    Barty swiftly concealed this thoughts, his voice still rigid with residual tension as he spoke, "We''ve managed to save the opportunity; otherwise, we''d have no exnation for the British wizardingmunity."

    "Yes, yes, Barty is right!" Ludo''s relief was palpable, his strained grin, a testament to the gravity of the situation they had narrowly escaped. "Eidetic memory, truly remarkable! Without your ability, our only option would have been to return empty-handed!"

    Barty cast a chilly nce in Ludo''s direction.

    "So now, we face another problem!"

    Relying on an imbecile like Ludo was a fruitless endeavor, a truth that Barty had long since realized. He turned his gaze towards Bryan, his eyes brimming with the unspoken hope that the young man coulde up with unique perspectives. Of course, even if he couldn''t, it didn''t matter; Barty vowed to investigate this matter thoroughly and retaliate decisively, no matter who was involved!

    "And that is¡ªwho wants to sabotage Hogwarts''s opportunity to host the Triwizard Tournament!"

    "This issue isn''t actually that troublesome¡ª" Noticing Barty and Ludo''s expectant gazes fixated upon him, Bryan blinked and uttered those words lightly.

    <em>''Not troublesome?!''</em>

    The perpetrator had managed to slip past the hotel''s defenses undetected, sneak into their room, destroy the security n, and leave before Bryan returned¡ª to be able to do all these things, there must be a powerful person or a powerful force behind them.

    Moreover, Bryan himself had said that he found no clues about the culprit amidst the wreckage¡ª being able to hide from the eyes of a wizard like Bryan also shows that the person who took action is experienced.

    Without tangible clues or evidence to guide their pursuit, identifying and convicting these scoundrels would consume a considerable amount of time and resources, even if the British Ministry of Magic devoted the entirety of its resources and leveraged every avable connection at its disposal.

    As these sobering realizations appeared in Barty''s mind, his expression cooled noticeably, the fires of determination flickering behind his steely gaze.

    Under the leadership of Cornelius Fudge, the once-formidable British Ministry of Magic had been steadily deteriorating, its foundations eroding with each passing day. It was precisely this self-inflicted weakness that encouraged their rivals to dare to strike. The recent silencing of Peter en route to Azkaban¡ªan unprecedented scenario that would have been unimaginable during Millicent Bagnold''s tenure as Minister¡ªserved as a grim reminder of the Ministry''s waning influence and the threats that lurked in the shadows.

    As Barty''s face grew tense with anxiety and Ludo held his breath in anticipation, Bryan''s lips curved into a faint smile. He rummaged through his pocket before retrieving a battered object.

    "What is that?" Ludo leaned closer, his curiosity piqued, his gulps audible as he scrutinized the mysterious item with unease. "It looks like an Omniocrs, Is it something the intruder left behind? But you said there were no clues, Bryan?"

    Ludo''s hand darted forth, eager to grasp the Omniocrs within Bryan''s palm, but Bryan neatly evaded his reach.

    "No, this is mine¡ª"

    But, Barty maintained hisposure, his eyes brimming with silent questions, patiently awaiting Bryan''s exnation, which Bryan provided without keeping suspense.

    "This is a modified Omniocrs that I call a Monitoring Lens or Surveince Mirror. You should have a record, Bartyst Halloween, after I returned to Hogwarts, Dumbledore must have helped me apply to the Ministry to use it for monitoring the castle''s safety. At the time, Minister Fudge approved it ording to regtions; the Minister''s assistant should have filed a case record¡ª"

    Barty narrowed his eyes, his mind delving into the vast sea of documents that epassed the Ministry''s archives.

    "Dolores did seem to have filed a record for a permit approved by Cornelius for Monitoring Lenses. If I''m not mistaken, it can monitor and record..."

    Barty''s voice solidified, filled with the weight of realization. "So, this thing captured the person who entered the room?"

    If he had been eighty percent certain before, now Bryan was one hundred percent convinced of his guess.

    At some point, beads of sweat had formed on Ludo''s brow. He hastily swiped the sleeve of his robes across his forehead, his protruding belly contracting more rapidly with eachbored breath. He licked his dry lips.

    "But...it, but you said¡ª"

    "Yes, it was severely damaged by the intruder''s magic." Bryan''s gaze bore into Ludo''s, his words meaningful, though his smile remained genuinely warm and reassuring. Noting Ludo''s relief, the tense expression rx, Bryan added with casual nonchnce, "It''ll probably take me about a week to repair it."

    "Very well, then!" Barty exhaled heavily, his fists clenched tightly. "We''ll let those despicable scoundrels enjoy themselves for a few days. After the inquiry meeting the day after tomorrow, once Hogwarts bes the host of the Triwizard Tournament, we''ll deal with this matter. At that time, I''ll have Rufus deploy all his capable men here. No matter who is behind this, I''ll ensure they spend a lifetime in Azkaban!"

    "What''s wrong, Ludo?" Bryan asked with concern, gazing at the visibly shaking, pale Ludo, who resembled someone recovering from a high fever.

    Bryan''s greeting also drew Barty''s attention, and he too noticed Ludo''s unusual expression, his eyes flickered momentarily, and the furrows on his brow deepened.

    "Ahem, you both know what I was up tost night!" Ludo immediately rallied his spirits, straining to maintain a usible smile. "Though I hate to admit it, oh, perhaps my stamina isn''t what it used to be. I couldn''t quite handle those passionate, erm, fans."

    "Oh, I see¡ª" Bryan''s hand fell upon Ludo''s arm in a reassuring gesture, yet in that fleeting instant, a shadowy tendril, slipped unnoticed into Ludo''s sleeve. Bryan gave Ludo an understanding smile. "I can imagine, Ludo, you must have been utterly exhaustedst night!"

    "Indeed!" Ludo nodded fervently, his movements exaggerated in their desperation to convince, to dissipate the lingering doubts that clouded the air. His gaze then turned pitifully towards Barty Crouch, "I need rest, Barty, I was up all night¡ª"

    "Get out, Ludo!" Barty''s suspicions evaporated like morning mist, reced by a furious re that he shot at Ludo Bagman, his voice a thunderous roar that reverberated through the chamber. "Stop causing me trouble, Ludo! Go find somewhere to sleep where we can''t see you!"

    Ludo practically sprinted from the room, and even after his retreating figure had long since vanished from sight, Barty still wore a scowling expression.

    "Letting someone like him be part of the Ministry... If this wasn''t rted to the Department of Magical Games and Sports, I would never have involved him, that blundering fool!"

    "At least, I think Mr. Bagman has a decent sense of humor¡ª" A glint of something inscrutable shed in the depths of Bryan''s eyes, and after a faint, enigmatic smile, he turned and headed towards the tent.

    "Come, Barty, with your keen eye, let''s review this n and see if there''s anything else worth improving, any potential vulnerabilities we might have overlooked."

    "Wait, Bryan¡ª" Barty''s agitated breathing gradually subsided, the turbulent emotions that had roiled within him settling into a deceptive calm. His brow furrowed slightly as he called out to Bryan''s retreating back, a nagging question gnawing at his mind.

    "About that Monitoring Lens of yours, it was modified from an Omniocrs, correct?"

    "Yes¡ª" Bryan turned around and asked in surprise, "Is there a problem?"

    "But you didn''t get a modification permit from the Ministry, nor did you pay the patent fee to the workshop that produced it, correct?" Barty eyed the battered Monitoring Lens in Bryan''s hand with suspicion.

    Bryanughed dryly. What did this mean? At a time like this, Barty was still trying to catch him out?

    "If you want to send me to Azkaban too, Barty¡ª" The corner of Bryan''s mouth twitched.

    "I''ll write to the Ministry now and have them sort out the proper procedures¡ª" Barty stated, his tone matter-of-fact, brooking no argument. "I think we can include the Monitoring Lens in the security n. I believe it would be a highlight!"

    Bryan had to admit, he hadn''t considered using the Monitoring Lens to monitor the tournament proceedings, which could not only enhance the viewing experience but also greatly ensure the participant''s safety during thepetition.

    "But¡ª" After thinking for a moment, Bryan said seriously, "Let me tell you in advance, Barty, I don''t have money to pay any patent fees¡ª¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0375 The Intrusion

    0375 The Intrusion

    Due to Barty''s reminder, Bryan needed to establish a separate chapter for the security n he had drafted.

    Firstly, he will have to introduce the concept of the Monitoring Lens, or the Surveince Mirror, to the Reviewmittee. This would involve providing aprehensive exnation of its nature, functionality, and potential applications in the tournament.

    Secondly, Bryan will provide a detailed description of the preventive role this Monitoring Lens could potentially y within the Triwizard Tournament. This description would describe the device''s capabilities to mitigate potential risks and enhance the overall security measures during this event.

    Ultimately, the implementation of the Monitoring Lens would give the eagerly awaiting spectators the extraordinary privilege of directly appreciating the awe-inspiring and brilliant performances of the champions. This direct observational experience would undoubtedly serve as a significant and irreceable bonus in Hogwarts''s favor.

    The original security n had been rather mundane and unremarkable,cking the distinguishing elements that could give Hogwarts a discernible advantage in the evaluation process. However, with the strategic inclusion of the Monitoring Lens, Bryan believed that his meticulously crafted n would emerge as the decisive and pivotal factor, tipping the scales in their favor.

    As the day progressed, the passage of time seemed to hold little significance, with no noteworthy urrences or events happening.

    Bryan and Barty, united in their pursuit, spent the entire day holed up in their room, dedicating every moment to the painstaking refinement of their new n. After finalizing its overall structure around 10 pm, Barty immediately excused himself as he needed to return to the Ministry to handle some urgent matters that he had not had time to deal with during the day.

    Moreover, Barty requested a half-day off from Bryan. Before their n went public, Barty had to ensure that there were no legal loopholes in the invention of the Surveince Mirror.

    This was not something that could be solved by just talking. In ordance with the established protocols, the device was required to undergo aprehensive registration process with the Ministry, navigating abyrinth of approvals, and securing the necessary patent fees and authorizations. Furthermore, the appropriate fiscal considerations, including the determination of taxable ie derived from the invention, needed judicious attention. Only upon satisfying theseplex requirements could the device be formally introduced to the wizardingmunity atrge.

    Barty nned to resolve everything during the day, which was already remarkably efficient.

    At midnight, the blue canopy transformed into a dazzling and mysterious starry sky. In the dpidated heavenly dome, the still-functioning air cirction magic continuously provided fresh air, forming a gentle breeze that wafted through the vast space.

    Bryan leaned back on a lounge chair ced on the undamagedwn, holding the meticulously crafted n in one hand and a quill in the other, methodically revising and annotating the draft document. Perhaps influenced by the soothing caress of the enveloping breeze, Bryan''s writing pace gradually slowed, and his previously alert eyes grew increasingly unfocused, yielding to the lure of exhaustion.

    His hands, which had once rested upon the armrests of the lounge chair, now sloped with the weight of fatigue, abandoning their grasp upon the paper. The quill he had clutched drifted to the ground, carried by a gust of wind, its scratching against the paper now silenced.

    Without the rustling sound of the Quill tip rubbing against the paper, the room grew increasingly tranquil, but this tranquility didn''tst long as a soft snoring emerged, disrupting the silence once more.

    As time passed, the starry sky above the canopy deepened, and Bryan, bathed in starlight, seemed to havepletely sumbed to a beautiful dream.

    With a hint of drool at the corner of his mouth, he mumbled unconsciously in his sleep, kicking off his shoes as his feet rubbed against each other, curling up sideways on the lounge chair.

    Without warning, a series of rapid and thunderous explosions shattered the room''s tranquility, the once soothing breeze instantly transformed into an ominous and foreboding gale.

    <strong>Goblins!</strong>

    About thirty goblins appeared in the room out of nowhere. These goblins, with their weird face and tiny statures, standing at half the height of Bryan, adopted defensive postures. In stark contrast to the goblins who conducted business for wizards at the Gringotts counters, whose pupils shone with the allure of Galleons, these goblins bore expressions of upromising ferocity, their eyes brimming with malice and their weathered forms had scars of varying severity ¨C the most grievously injured among them had had even lost an arm.

    The goblins maintained an unwavering vignce, their collective gaze immediately drawn to the sleeping Bryan, who remained in peace upon the lounge chair before the tent.

    In a flurry of nimble movements, over thirty short goblins encircled Bryan''s prone form, each with a finger pointed in his direction, ready to assault just at themand, their unwavering determination tangible in the air.

    These well-trained goblins did not lower their guard, even after determining Bryan''s state of slumber. Instead, their eyes grew ever more watchful, scrutinizing his every unconscious twitch and flutter of the eyelids.

    "He must be exhausted, Ragnok--"

    One goblin said after nearly five minutes had passed, suppressing the shrill tone of his voice to make a measured judgment.

    Ragnok, the one-armed goblin, maintained a wary vigil from a distance of thirty feet, his gaze fixed upon Bryan''s slumbering face, monitoring the unconscious fluttering of his eyelids with an air of mistrust.

    "But those two wizards said this human is very powerful."

    Ragnok did not rx his vignce because of the other goblin''s words. He tentatively approached Bryan in a series of cautious steps, his eyes showing a palpable suspicion as they studied the wizard''s sleeping face.

    "I thought he would notice us immediately."

    "He''s exhausted."

    The goblin who had initially spoken repeated his judgment with a renewed conviction. He crooked his slightly misshapen finger in Bryan''s direction, and the sheaf of parchment lying adjacent to the wizard''s sleeping form on the grass immediately took flight, soaring into the goblin''s grasp. After confirming that Bryan still showed no reaction, the goblin exhaled a sigh of relief. His posture straightening as a hint of pride appeared his features. It stood up straight, somewhat proudly looking at Ragnok, who was dissatisfied with its unteral action, and shook the parchment smugly.

    "This must be the n he''s working on--"

    "Alright--"

    It seemed that Bryan Watson was indeed asleep. Ragnok slowly lowered his extended finger, and the other goblins, observing his gesture, followed suit, rising from their defensive stances.

    "I thought we''d suffer heavy casualties, but it looks like we got lucky."

    After briefly ncing at the n, Ragnok''s interest faded, and his gaze returned to the tranquil face of Bryan.

    "Wizards just love to boast--"

    The previous goblin said dismissively, his tone tinged with disdain.

    "Their true talent lies in scheming and plotting."

    Ragnok''s expression showed his disagreement with his subordinate''s assessment of wizards. If the talent of those wizardsy solely in scheming, then how had the great holy war waged by his ancestors against their kind been so decisively suppressed across the centuries?

    "What do we do, Ragnok?"

    Laddie circled the lounge chair twice beforeing to a halt beside Ragnok, his gaze fixed upon Bryan with open scorn. Suddenly, an eager tone crept into his voice as he said:

    "Let''s kill him! The wizard side will be plunged into utter chaos!"

    "If we kill him, we''re done for!"

    Ragnok''s re pierced Laddie with a sneering intensity, his words carrying a stern rebuke.

    "Don''t forget, this wizard is Albus Dumbledore''s henchman!"

    "So what!"

    Laddie''s expression remained boldly defiant.

    "Albus Dumbledore is a toothless old man. Perhaps he''ll be done for tomorrow. Otherwise, he wouldn''t have sent this clueless fool here to handle things. Hmph, those greedy wizards asked us to tamper with this fool''s mind. Hmph, what right do those greedy, shameless wizards have to order us goblins around?"

    "Barnah will be furious."

    Ragnok warned again,

    "If we kill Bryan Watson, perhaps the wizards won''t find out, but the silly game they''re ying now will be called off, and not just those two wizards, but we''ll also suffer heavy losses."

    Laddie could not ept goblins''s interests beingpromised. He fell silent for a moment before asking in a muffled voiceced with resignation:

    "What do you n to do, Ragnok? Follow those two wizards''s orders and remove the n from his mind?"

    "No, we''ll take him to Barnah."

    A renewed surge of suspicion flickered in Ragnok''s eyes as he considered their course of action. With a sharp snap of his fingers, a brilliant beam of light erupted from his fingertip, instantaneously piercing Bryan''s chest. As Bryan''s head slouched to the side, the quill that hadin discarded upon the ground let out a whooshing sound, taking flight and transforming into a thick rope that bound the wizard''s body with upromising tightness.

    Responding to Laddie''s confused and shocked gaze, Ragnok exined,

    "Take him to Barnah and let him interrogate this wizard about the Moni--Monitoring Lens he mentioned, to ensure there''s no evidence of our presence here. We can''t take any risks. Then, we''ll tamper with his mind."

    This was indeed the safest approach. Laddie slightly nodded his ugly, pointed head, no longer questioning the n.

    Several goblins immediately rushed over and lifted Bryan from the lounge chair. After meticulously erasing their footprints from the grassywn, Ragnok and Laddie conducted a final, thorough inspection of the surroundings, confirming that Bryan Watson had not ced any Monitoring Mirrors or other surveince devices in the vicinity. Satisfied, the goblins who had suddenly appeared in the room swiftly departed, their exit as mystifying as their arrival, facilitated by their unique Disapparition magic.

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 0376 Gringotts in Paris

    0376 Gringotts in Paris

    An extraordinary and mystical barrier, woven with ancient spells, separated the ordinary Muggle realm from the wondrous wizarding world, safeguarding the cherished secrecy of the magicalmunity. In the heart of Paris, nestled within the 7th arrondissement, stood the imposing headquarters of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

    This colossal structure, a harmonious blend of diverse architectural styles, exuded an air of grandeur that personalized the immense wealth and influence of the goblin nation. nking the grand copper entrance doors, beneath the snow-white marble steps, stood two fierce-looking Bull statues. These creatures, valued as symbols of wealth and prosperity, served as a marvelous representation favored by the treasure-obsessed goblins.

    Ascending the steps, one''s gaze was drawn to the dazzling golden Galleon, its diameter spanning a huge ten feet, embedded above the door beam. This dazzling emblem, shimmering with the radiance of untold riches, announced the goblins''s financial power to the wizarding world.

    Passing through the bronze doors, one could see what Gringotts headquarters truly looks like.

    Unlike the bustling Gringotts branch at Diagon Alley, this vast hall, approximately five or six times the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts,cked the endless rows of counters and the never-ending clinking of goblins meticulously calcting wealth. Instead, the decor leaned towards that of a prestigious Muggle hotel, itsvish furnishings and elegant appointments exuding an air of refined luxury.

    Yet, even in the dead of night, when the world slept, the majority of the numerous guest suites across the dozens of floors remained brilliantly illuminated.

    Gringotts headquarters did not offer the usual personal vault services like its regr branches. This was a financial center, a nexus of power where both goblins and wizards met.

    Here, the goblins would receive the leaders of influential families and Controllers of the magical industries from around the world, epting their coteral before lending out shimmering piles of Galleons. Of course, the goblins would also assess promising industries for potential investments.

    One could say, without exaggeration, that if one were to choose a few ces capable of influencing the entire Wizarding World, the Gringotts World Banking Center would undoubtedly rank among the top ten, a veritable epicenter of financial might and political sway.

    Buildings in the Wizarding world were seldom excessively tall, and the goblins were no exception to this unwritten rule. However, to amodate the immense business brought by the hundreds of prosperous Wizarding societies worldwide, the goblins had built their headquartersyer uponyer, until it nearly matched one-third of the height of the iconic Eiffel Tower.

    At this moment, as the twinkling stars descended from the heavens, illuminating the night, an air of anticipation hung in the air.

    The top floor was the only level in the entire building without any partitioning walls, a vast, open chamber that exuded an air of grandeur and importance. Thevish velvet carpet that adorned the floor matched the reception hall of the British Ministry of Magic. The walls, crafted from the finest materials, were embedded with numerous fireces, each corresponding to Gringotts branches worldwide. Whenever an urgent matter arose, these branches would use the fireces toe here and consult with the goblin leader overseeing operations.

    In the deep silence of the night, the vast room was eerily quiet.

    Thus, when a series of crisp explosions suddenly echoed through the chamber, shattering the tranquil silence, Barnah, seated behind a massive ck and red ebony desk along the western wall, immediately looked up, his brow furrowed with concern.

    This aged goblin appeared quite old, his face bearing the weight of countless years and the burdens of leadership. When he rose, his graying beard, tinged with shades of moss green, fell past his knees. Donning a meticulously styled pair of old-fashioned spectacles and a silver-green robe tailored to his stature, his stern demeanor bore a faint resemnce to Barty Crouch Sr. in his working state.

    "Mr. Barnah--" Ragnok bowed respectfully to Barnah, with the other goblins, including Laddie, reacting almost identically.

    "What''s the matter?" Barnah''s old voice carried an air of authority as he nced at the unconscious Bryan being carried by a few goblins, his tone showing neither joy nor anger, but rather a calm detachment born of decades of experience. "Is this wizard Bryan Watson?"

    Barnah''s clouded eyes swiveled as he turned his gaze toward Ragnok, his piercing stare seeming to prate the very soul of the goblin before him. "I instructed you to simply confuse this wizard''s mind and prevent him from causing further trouble. Ragnok, why have you brought him back? Did you encounter fierce resistance? But I don''t see any casualties among you."

    "The operation proceeded smoothly, Mr. Barnah--" Ragnok remained bent over, his respectful tone tinged with a hint of nervousness as he replied without being told to stand upright. "When we entered the room, this wizard was asleep and did not wake from our movements. However--"

    At this point, Ragnok swiftly nced at his superior Barnah, and seeing no sign of anger on his face, he proceeded cautiously, his words measured and deliberate.

    "Ludovic Bagman informed us that this wizard used a special alchemical device to record our actions, iming the device was notpletely destroyed. Forgive my bluntness, but Ludovic Bagman is not the brightest wizard. I worried he might have been deceived. Perhaps Bryan Watson has obtained evidence, or perhaps this im is merely false information, and Ludovic Bagman was duped. Therefore, I decided to bring him back for your interrogation."

    "You have considered this carefully, Ragnok--" The goblin leader, Barnah, spoke in a slow, measured tone as he looked down at the pleased Ragnok. "But have you considered the risks of your actions? For instance, what if this wizard has already sensed something amiss with Bagman, and his apparent subdual is merely an act?"

    Ragnok''s expression faltered slightly as he intended to argue that he had ensured Bryan Watson was rendered unconscious through magic. However, before he could speak, Barnah continued, his voice resonating with authority, "Furthermore, there is ample evidence suggesting that Albus Dumbledore holds Bryan Watson in high regard. If Dumbledore has been covertly protecting him all along, and now discovers his prot¨¦g¨¦ in an unreasonable circumstance, how shall we face an enraged Dumbledore''s wrath?"

    Ragnok''s wrinkled face twitched nonstop as he lowered his head, his pointed ears drooping in a gesture of submission.

    Laddie seemed somewhat unconvinced, his eyes showing a flicker of doubt, but he obviously did not dare to openly contradict Barnah, so he could only bury his resentment in his stomach, swallowing his pride for the sake of obedience.

    Seeing their silence, the ever-busy Barnah lost interest in further admonition, his mind already turning to the myriad of other pressing matters that demanded his attention. He calmly said, his words carrying the weight of finality, "Take Bryan Watson to a secure chamber, wake him up, interrogate him thoroughly, and then erase his memory before returning him."

    "As youmand, Mr. Barnah--" Ragnok''s forehead nearly touched the ground as he respectfully replied.

    "Also, Ragnok--" As if suddenly recalling something, Barnah, who was about to return to his desk, turned his head to silently gaze at Ragnok, speaking slowly to ensure every word was clearly heard. "In the future, I expect my orders to be executed with due regard. If there is a next time, you may find yourself missing more than just an arm."

    A chill swept through the enclosed room the moment Barnah''s voice fell. The group of goblins who specialized in carrying out unsightly deeds, fell as silent as crickets in winter, their bodies rigid with fear, and even the fluff on their heads trembled with barely suppressed terror.

    "Go on, then--" Barnah hadpletely lost interest, his mind already consumed by the innumerable matters that demanded his attention. As the overseer of wealth beyond the imagination of even ancient, affluent pureblood families like the Malfoys, he had too many responsibilities to handle daily. His willingness to spend precious time admonishing his subordinates stemmed solely from their foolish actions potentially involving Albus Dumbledore, a wizard whose power and influence could not be underestimated or ignored.

    "Mr. Barnah, is it?" Just as Ragnok prepared to follow orders and lead his subordinates to find a secret chamber to interrogate Bryan Watson, a polite yet unfamiliar voice, suddenly resonated throughout the room, shattering the tense silence. "Would you be willing to spare some time for a private conversation with me?"

    In an instant, the tense atmosphere within the chamber exploded!

    The aged and feeble Barnah whirled around in astonishment. To his utter disbelief, the young wizard who had previouslyin on the floor, surrounded by Ragnok''s underlings, was no longer in his original position but had instead appeared behind Ragnok and the others. With his hands naturally folded before him and a gentle, disarming smile upon his lips, he calmly looked at him with a pair of faded purple eyes.

    "Kill him." Without wasting a second''s thought, Barnah issued hismand in a solemn, unwavering voice.

    "Mr. Barnah, please leave this to us!"

    The events unfolding before their eyes had proven Barnah''s earlier words prophetic. The goblin warriors, their faces twisted in rage and fury, charged towards Bryan with primal howls of bloodlust, Ragnok and Laddie shrieked furiously as they led the charge.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    Suddenly, a silver halo manifested around Bryan''s body, its luminous brilliance cutting through the dim lighting of the chamber. As soon as it appeared, this halo violently expanded, possessing an unseen power that seemed to repel every attack. Ragnok, Laddie, and the goblins charging behind them were struck by the halo''s wave with the force of a hurricane, their tiny forms sted away one by one, their bodies tumbling through the air like leaves caught in a tempest.

    Barnah nced only once at the scene unfolding before him, his aged eyes narrowing as he processed the implications of what he had just witnessed. Without hesitation, he immediately decided to leave this ce.

    However, just as he was about to snap his fingers, the four walls of the top floor chamber suddenly erupted in searing golden mes. These curtain-like raging Fiendfyre, a manifestation of pure, destructive magic, sealed the roompletely shut, yet remarkably did not damage anything inside, as if held in check by an unseen force.

    Barnah immediately realized that he might not be able to leave. Gazing at those destructive mes containing immense power, his aged face slightly paled as he suddenly became aware of something, a truth that chilled him to his very core. He turned to order Ragnok''s subordinates to stop, but one goblin who had been tossed to the ceiling by the repelling aura sprang back into action the moment itnded, faithfully carrying out its duty to kill Bryan Watson. However--

    <strong>Swish!</strong>

    Bryan raised his right hand, a wand inexplicably appearing in his palm as he gave it a slight flick. A stone spear materialized from thin air, its surface glinting with razor-sharp edges, and it pierced through the void with thunderous speed, a blur of motion that could scarcely be followed by the naked eye. The unlucky goblin had not even taken half a step before the spear, packing immense force, impaled it through the chest with a sickening crunch, sending it flying dozens of feet before pinning it to the ground in a grotesque disy of violence, its life extinguished in an instant.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0377 Talks

    0377 Talks

    The helpless goblin, pinned mercilessly to the ground by the cold spear, stared with wide, terror-filled eyes, its small body trembling uncontrobly as it found itself unable to believe it would meet its demise so easily, so unceremoniously. The primal, instinctual craving for life caused its frail form to twitch and spasm instinctively, but the steady trickle of fresh, crimson blood flowing relentlessly from its wound rapidly drained its vitality, its life force ebbing away with each passing second. In mere moments, the once vibrant light in its eyes, along with the palpable fear and unwillingness to surrender to death''s cold embrace, faded away entirely, leaving behind a lifeless shell.

    For a single, brief moment, the noisy scene fell eerily silent, as if the world itself held its breath in anticipation. Then, over thirty goblins, their faces twisted into pure rage, unleashed furious, screeching cries that pierced the air like daggers, charging at Bryan from all sides with reckless abandon.

    The chaotic spells rained down upon him like a torrential downpour of droplets upon a stillke''s surface, sending ripples across Bryan''s whirling magical barrier, which deflected the assault.

    The goblin leader, the elder Gerson Barnah, whose name was even famous among the wizards, averted his aged, weary eyes from the unfolding spectacle of carnage. Instead, he gazed at the surging curtain of mes engulfing the walls, like a conjuring trick that did not hurt anything, with a slightly dazed, almost mesmerized expression upon his weathered features.

    The corner of Bryan''s eye twitched imperceptibly as he surveyed his surroundings, taking in the chaos unfolding around him with a brief, calcted nce. The next second, he raised his wand-wielding right hand, and a dull, seemingly inoffensive orb of light appeared at the wand''s tip, pulsating faintly.

    The moment the orb was conjured, it burst forth with a blinding brilliance that scorched the eyes. From within the dazzling glow, an endless barrage of stone spears shot out with tremendous force!

    Blood rendered the once untouched carpet more vibrant. Amid the rise and fall of agonized wails, Death itself screeched wildly, swinging its scythe in gruesome ecstasy over the extinguished lives. The oncevishly adorned room, a testament to the wealth and magnificence of the goblin nation,y shattered in an instant.

    One unfortunate goblin was impaled against the wall by the sheer impact force of one of the stone spears, its body pinned like a gruesome trophy. The initially harmless mes, upon contact with the goblin''s body, shed their guise of mildness like oil pouring onto a raging inferno. That goblin instantly became a ''human torch'', its body engulfed in searing, all-consuming mes that licked at its flesh with voracious hunger.

    However, this goblin was rather tenacious. The fiendyre, consumed the spear pinning it until, after falling from the wall, it charged at Bryan with a shrill shriek, intent on taking the powerful wizard down with it.

    Unfortunately, its determination, its unwavering resolve, changed nothing; it could only leave behind charred footprints on the now-crimson floor.

    In the end, this goblin copsed thirty feet from Bryan, leaving not even ash behind, its existence erased from the world as if it had never been.

    Barnah''s gaze followed the goblin, whose name he hadn''t even remembered, and a subtle change, a flicker of emotion, crossed his aged face.

    "Can we talk now?" Bryan lowered his wand, his calm expression radiating disdain and indifference, as if the ughter that had just taken ce was but a trivial matter, a mere inconvenience.

    In the blink of an eye, the battle-hardened goblin warriors,y nearly all dead or dying, their bodies scattered across the room like discarded ragdolls. Only Ragnok and Laddie, by virtue of their agility and swift reflexes honed through years ofbat, had avoided the deadly barrage of stone spears that targeted their vitals. However, one was pinned by the shoulder, while the other had been impaled through the leg, both gasping feebly on the ground.

    Barnah stared at the irregr, charred marks left on the carpet by the goblin consumed by the Fiendfyre. Hearing Bryan''s voice, his cloudy gaze suddenly turned fierce, and his knee-length beard trembled with rage.

    He red at the young wizard standing amidst the corpses of his kin, unruffled as if he had crushed mere ants beneath his boots, and his breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with the effort of containing his emotions.

    Wealth and power seemed to meet and sh in this moment, with power emerging victorious as wealth suffered utter defeat, its once-formidable influence rendered impotent.

    "Half a century ago, by the window of this very office¡ª"

    Atst, the leader of the goblins''s most prosperous n, the President of Gringotts World Bank, Gerson Barnah, spoke in a raspy yet dignified tone, his voice carrying the weight of decades of experience and authority.

    "I witnessed Paris erupting in mes like these. Even from dozens of miles away, the all-consuming, destructive force contained within those mes filled me with utter despair¡ª"

    The old goblin closed his eyes, his frail body trembling slightly, as if that terror had transcended time and space to continue tormenting his very soul.

    "Were it not for Master mel and Mr. Scamander, perhaps all that would remain of present-day Paris is a scorched wastnd."

    <em>''Half a century ago¡ª''</em>

    Bryan''s expression finally lost its coldness, revealing a slightly mocking smile.

    "I am not Gellert Grindelwald, Mr. Barnah¡ª"

    Bryan resumed his steps, striding past Gerson Barnah at a leisurely pace, as if he were taking a stroll through a peaceful garden rather than a room littered with the bodies of the fallen. As he walked, the curtain of mes lining the walls swiftly descended, their fury dwindling at hismand. By the time Bryan reached the floor-to-ceiling window, the air had lost its sense of impending doom.

    Deep into the night, Paris remained brightly lit, its streets and avenues aglow with the vibrant, pulsing neon lights that served as a beacon to the Muggle world. These radiant hues filtered through the magical barrier, reflecting upon Bryan''s cheeks, dispelling the bloodlust that had once burned in his eyes.

    "There will be no massacre in Paris tonight¡ª"

    Paris may be spared, but who knows what would happen within this building.

    "In the eyes of goblins, everything has a price¡ª"

    Barnah understood Bryan''s implication. With a slight sigh, he calmly stated,

    "If I wished to quell the anger in your heart, how many Galleons would I need to pay?"

    <em>''Such an interesting goblin¡ª''</em>

    Unconsciously, a hint of a smile appeared on Bryan''s lips.

    "That depends on the purpose behind such a foolish thing you''ve done, Mr. Barnah¡ª"

    Bryan turned toward the desk, a casual flick of his wand summoning a high-backed armchair behind him, into which he settled with grace.

    "Mr. Barnah, neither of us wishes to be the instigator reigniting the war between wizards and goblins. However, I can assure you, I do not fear provoking such conflict. Whether this disastrous oue urs will depend on your willingness to disclose, truthfully, the nature of your dealings with Ludo Bagman."

    "You know about that?"

    As long as one was willing to talk, reconciliation was possible.

    Barnah exhaled slightly, his shoulders sagging with relief, as he dragged his bloodstained robes across the floor, making his way back to his seat to meet Bryan''s calm, unruffled gaze head-on. Yet, it was precisely this demeanor that allowed him to sense the young wizard''s immense, self- confidence¡ªa confidence backed by formidable power.

    "Albus Dumbledore found a worthy sessor¡ª" The words slipped from Barnah''s lips,ced with a mixture of resignation and begrudging respect.

    Regardless of the era, the wizarding world has always had extraordinary inheritors who led their kind''s relentless march forward since ancient times, carrying the torch of knowledge and power through the ages. In contrast, his own kind, apart from their ever-increasing wealth, had lost many precious qualities and talents¡ªwisdom, strength, ambition¡ªthat had once defined their noble race.

    Pondering this, Gerson Barnah''s aged frame stooped further.

    "I do not particrly like your rhetoric, Mr. Barnah¡ª" Bryan''s voice cut through the mncholic haze that had momentarily enveloped the goblin leader.

    Bryan intertwined his fingers, resting his chin upon them as he spoke calmly, his piercing gaze never wavering, "But no matter. I''m more curious about the dealings between you and Ludo Bagman, as well as Cuthbert Mockridge, who are presently enjoying themselves at the casino several floors below."

    Barnah handed Bryan a ss containing a clear, pale green liquid. Bryan took a light sniff, and a refreshing fruity aroma mingled with the rich, mellow taste, making him look momentarily intoxicated. As the liquid went through his lips, the tangy vor lingering between his lips and teeth reminded Bryan faintly white wine.

    "One afternoon eight months ago, while I was handling some matters rted to the Egyptian branch of Gringotts in this very office, Cuthbert Mockridge suddenly appeared without any notice, insisting on an urgent meeting.

    We have a significant amount of business dealings in the United Kingdom, and Mockridge, within the British Ministry of Magic, is specifically responsible for liaising with us on such matters. Many transactions and financial arrangements must go through him for approval by the Ministry''s senior officials. While we have met numerous times in an official settings to discuss our affairs, we do not share a personal acquaintance beyond that¡ª"

    Barnah nced at the pale, distinctive eyes of Bryan Watson, which were glinting slightly with attention, before continuing his exnation.

    "Wizards dislike aliens. You consider befriending goblins a disgrace, especially for someone like Mockridge, who holds a high position of authority in the Ministry, despite his role in overseeing our affairs."

    The old goblin''s weathered face contorted into a self-deprecating smile.

    "But that day, Mockridge was exceptionally cordial, and I immediately knew he wanted something from me, some favor or arrangement that would benefit him greatly¡ª"

    At this point, Barnah hesitated. He knew that if the following events came to light, Cuthbert Mockridge and Ludo Bagman would likely be utterly ruined, their most probable fate being a lifelong sentence in that dreadful wizarding prison of Azkaban. Consequently, many goblin businesses and financial interests in Britain would also face severe disruptions and setbacks.

    However, if he remained silent, Barnah knew that Bryan Watson, who had recently be famous but whose true power and capabilities were still not fully seen by the world, would not let this matter rest. Lies and deception could not fool a wizard of such immense magical prowess.

    "Cuthbert Mockridge introduced me to someone - the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the British Ministry of Magic, the famous Ludovic Bagman. In fact, Mockridge had been roped into this entire affair by Ludo Bagman himself."

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0378 Root of the Matter

    0378 Root of the Matter

    "Ludovic Bagman, the wizard with a not so good reputation, was not someone I would ordinarily choose to associate with, but the circumstances left me with no viable alternative. When a high-ranking official from the British Ministry of Magic, no less the head of a prominent department, extends a meeting request through the Goblin Liaison Office, one cannot simply refuse, despite the gnawing uneasiness that such an encounter might cause us trouble," Barnah said with a weary sigh.

    "Ludovic Bagman brought me inside information that the Department of Magical Games and Sports and the Department of International Magical Cooperation intend to join forces to revive the Triwizard Tournament. Not only does this have the Ministry''s support, but Albus Dumbledore is also willing to back it."

    Bryan''s gaze flickered slightly. Last year, after he returned to Hogwarts, there had been a dementor riot when the Ministry stationed them at Hogwarts to capture Sirius. At that time, he had detained all the dementors.

    When Cornelius Fudge came to negotiate with him, he had mentioned in passing that the Ministry was promoting a major event. It seemed the Triwizard Tournament was already being nned then.

    "With the British Ministry and Dumbledore both pushing for it, the likelihood of the Triwizard Tournament happening was high. Ludovic Bagman also took the opportunity to make his own request. Wizards familiar with the tournament rules know the host school will be elected by the International Confederation of Wizards. Before that, no one knows which school will host it, but Bagman insisted he could get inside information. He wanted us to open a betting pool on the eventual host."

    This time, it was Bryan''s turn to sigh.

    "You agreed to this?"

    "It is, without a shadow of a doubt, an unparalleled opportunity to make money, is it not, Mr. Watson?" Barnah responded, his lips curling into the cunning smile that goblins were known for. "While it is undeniable that goblins are indeed rich, our vast wealth was not amassed overnight. Over the course of centuries, we have meticulously umted our fortune, seizing opportunities with keen eyes and unwavering determination, one Knut at a time, steadily expanding our coffers to their current magnitude."

    When it came to an insatiable obsession with umting wealth, goblins were indeed far greedier than wizards.

    So that was the root of this matter, Bryan thought, drumming his fingers on the table before saying after brief contemtion, "Which sides did Bagman and Mockridge bet on, Beauxbatons or Durmstrang? And how much did they wager?"

    "Neither, Mr. Watson," Barnah chuckled. "Mr. Bagman staked a staggering twenty thousand Galleons, while Mr. Mockridge approximately the same amount. ording to reports from our Gringotts branch in Britain, these wagers likely represent the entirety of their respective fortunes. Ah, their bets were ced on Hogwarts. That was most people''s choice too¨C on the surface, with the British Ministry and the Dumbledore supporting for it, Hogwarts seemed the most likely to seed. Consequently, the odds on Hogwarts were considerably lower than those offered for Beauxbatons or Durmstrang."

    Bryan''s thoughts raced as a slight chill crossed his lips. "Until word spread that I would be recing Dumbledore as Hogwarts''s representative?"

    "Your perceptiveness is truly remarkable, Mr. Watson," Barnah nodded approvingly, his admiration evident. "Prior to your arrival in Paris, Dumbledore''s decision to appoint you as Hogwarts''s representative had circted only within a highly exclusive circle. The vast majority remained oblivious to this development, and thus, their optimism regarding Hogwarts''s prospects remained undiminished. However, Bagman and Mockridge harbored the belief that the fiercepetition for the hosting rights had exceeded Dumbledore''s expectations. Fearing that a failure would tarnish his reputation, he decided to dispatch you as a sacrificial pawn, enabling him to deflect any potential me."

    Bryan''s cheek twitched slightly. The old saying was true - Ignorance is truly bliss for the fools.

    "Ludo Bagman and Cuthbert Mockridge have staked their entire fortunes on this wager. Not a single Galleon can be found in their vaults now. One can only imagine their fate if they bet wrong. So, upon hearing this news, they immediately came to me, hoping to retrieve their invested Galleons and switch their bet to Beauxbatons, which seemed more likely than Hogwarts to host now. Of course, that was impossible, and I refused their request."

    Barnah''s words tumbled forth with rapid-fire intensity, "In a desperate attempt to hedge their risks, Bagman and Mockridge resorted to leveraging their personal names as coteral, securing a loan of fifty thousand Galleons from us, which they then proceeded to wager this entire sum on Beauxbatons¨C Heh, wizards''s greed is no less than that of us goblins, Mr. Watson."

    "Hmph," Bryan grunted coldly, his face turning frosty. "Don''t confuse the issue, Mr. Barnah. Given your status, you wouldn''t risk stealing Hogwarts''s security ns just for a few thousand Galleons or because of requests from Bagman and Mockridge. And you certainly wouldn''t act twice in a row. You were willing to do this because you believed Bagman''s judgment and feared losses to your own interests."

    Barnah twitched his mustache, his mouth opening as if to utter a retort, but ultimately, he remained silent, his words left unspoken.

    Cunningly, he had hoped to redirect Bryan Watson''s anger toward Bagman and Mockridge with his words, but he clearly underestimated how seasoned Bryan was to see through his ploy so easily.

    Gerson Barnah was not confident that Bryan Watson wouldn''t kill him.

    If this matter were toe to light, the British Ministry of Magic would undoubtedly suffer a devastating blow to its reputation, a humiliation of monumental proportions. But it was precisely because of the grave nature of this that the enraged Ministry would definitely grab the goblins by the scruff of their necks, tearing a chunk of flesh from their hides - the Ministry wouldn''t let it go easily.

    History had borne witness to the fact that wizards always banded together against other races when their interests were threatened.

    Moreover, if Bryan Watson chose to ughter them all tonight, Barnah believed this incident could very likely be an unsolved case given the power this wizard had just demonstrated. Neither wizards nor goblins would be able to find the culprit.

    "Howrge is the current betting pool?" Bryan asked coldly, eyeing the now-silent goblin.

    "Over two million Galleons," Barnah hesitated before answering truthfully.

    His answer made Bryan pinch the bridge of his nose, his expression darkening.

    While Bryan was not surprised people would seek to profit from wagering on such a significant matter, but he never expected it was Bagman who instigated it at the start, let alone that there would be so many betting enthusiasts.

    If he chose to expose this huge betting pool to the world, it might not incite widespread turmoil throughout the European wizarding world, but there was no denying that he would earn the resentment and ill-will of countless individuals.

    In this moment, those possessing the means to participate or possess knowledge of the Triwizard Tournament were either high-ranking wizards or individuals of immense wealth and influence. Earning the resentment of this group would make it difficult for Bryan to walk freely in the wizarding world during peacetime - and even Dumbledore wouldn''t dare to act recklessly.

    As these sobering thoughts united in his mind, Bryan''s brow furrowed in contemtion.

    Dumbledore''s intelligencework was formidable. This betting pool, instigated by Bagman and fueled by the goblins, may have already reached his ears. Perhaps Dumbledore also wanted to push him out because he didn''t want to help the evildoers.

    But dwelling on this was pointless now. The important thing was how to handle the situation.

    Bryan had no intention of creating a massacre here, but since he had exposed this huge gamble, if the goblins didn''t back down, he would overturn the table.

    Most importantly, he needed to deal with Bagman and Mockridge.

    <em>''Send them to Azkaban?''</em>

    It was no trivial matter to imprison a high-ranking Ministry department head and a prominent director within the infamous wizarding prison - such a decision would require an official trial before the Wizengamot court. Doing so would make this matter public knowledge, likely causing the uing Triwizard Tournament to be canceled.

    Not to mention the political ramifications within the Ministry and the tangled web of nepotism.

    Bryan drummed the table, pondering how best to resolve this.

    Meanwhile, the old goblin Barnah was watching closely, trying to discern Bryan''s thoughts.

    "Without a doubt, Mr. Watson, we havemitted a grave sin. We vited the interests of Hogwarts and yours," Barnah said cautiously. "We are willing topensate for this. How many Galleons do you think would be enough to quell the fury of yours and Hogwarts?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0379 The List

    0379 The List

    "Without a doubt, Mr. Watson, we havemitted a grave sin. We vited the interests of Hogwarts and yours," Barnah said cautiously. "We are willing topensate for this. How many Galleons do you think would be enough to quell the fury of yours and Hogwarts?"

    "Who do you think I am, a robber?"

    Bryan''s stern words left Gerson Barnah speechless.

    For a wizard like Bryan, as long as he loosened his principles, countless people would try to stuff shiny golden galleons into his pockets. However, some benefits could be pursued for oneself, while taking some money would only put oneself in an extremely unfavorable position.

    The Goblin''s money was not so easy to take. If he epted the Goblin''s favor tonight, the distance to his downfall would not be far.

    The magic power in the natural environment became as heavy as lead with the fluctuations of Bryan''s mood. Although he did not intentionally release an intimidating aura, the pressure like raging waves still made the aging Gerson Barnah feel suffocated.

    Barnah remained expressionless, but in his heart, he pondered how to seize a little leverage in front of Bryan. As he was racking his brains, suddenly, a sh of inspiration shed into his mind, slightly smoothing theyers of wrinkles on the old Goblin''s face.

    "Your noble character is admirable, Mr. Watson--" Barnah slightly nodded towards Bryan.

    "Although all of this was caused by Ludo Bagman''s greed, it is undeniable that we have also harmed yours and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry''s precious interests. We should make amends. Since you are unwilling to ept galleons, I can only change the approach--"

    "Oh?" Bryan put aside his thoughts for the time being and asked with interest, "What do you intend to do?"

    "You will definitely be satisfied--" Barnah smiled calmly. He stood up, walked around the chair to the wall engraved with bas-reliefs behind him, and scratched a few times with his sharp nails on the intertwining patterns. Immediately, the wall surface rippled slightly, and a dragon-hide case floated out from the softened, glowing wall.

    "This box contains a list, Mr. Watson--" The old Goblin held the case and ced it on the table. With a crook of his finger, the dragon-hide case gently slid in front of Bryan. Meeting Bryan''s inquiring gaze, Barnah smiled mysteriously, "This is theprehensive list of all the wizards involved in this gambling operation, as well as the precise amounts they have wagered. Surely, this will be of help to you."

    Bryan did show some interest. He tapped the armrest of the chair with his fingers, and the case silently opened, a thick ck-covered notebook floating in front of Bryan.

    As the pages slowly turned, the names of several famous wizards he met in party were reflected in Bryan''s mind.

    "Page twenty, third line, Mr. Watson--" The old Goblin kindly reminded him.

    With a sudden gust of wind, the pages rustled rapidly, and Bryan''s gaze fell upon the third line of the twentieth page ¨C Yoshabelle Dreghorn (Durmstrang, eight thousand Galleons).

    Bryan''s eyebrows raised slightly, and his eyshes fluttered, "Who is this Yoshabelle--"

    "She is Mr. Vipor Dreghorn''s wife, Mr. Watson."

    No matter how cunningly the Goblins attempted to mask their true natures, their smiles always carried an undercurrent of sly calction. Barnah noticed the fleeting joy in Bryan''s eyes, so his voice became much more cheerful.

    "Mrs. Yoshabelle and Mr. Vipor Dreghorn met during the catastrophe that swept across Europe half a century ago. In the war waged against that most terrible of Dark Lords¡ª Gellert Grindelwald, they fell in love while fighting together. After the war ended, they got married and spent half their lives together--"

    Barnah neatly refilled Bryan''s cup with a rich, ruby-hued wine, and continued at a leisurely pace, "Mrs. Yoshabelle is of German descent, and her alma mater is the prestigious Durmstrang Institute. So, upon learning that the Triwizard Tournament would once again be held, and that Durmstrang was among those vying to host it, she would naturally lend her unwavering support to her beloved alma mater."

    This was like being handed a knife as soon as one wanted to kill!

    Bryan had already determined to clear the obstacles for Hogwarts to be the host of the Triwizard Tournament. He had nned to go out tomorrow to find some dirt on Vipor Dreghorn, but unexpectedly, he had already gained something significant from the Goblins.

    Bryan nced at Gerson Barnah with a half-smile, unable to deny that this old Goblin was indeed a very clever fellow.

    Indeed, as Barnah had wisely pointed out, it was entirely understandable for a witch or wizard to support their alma mater wholeheartedly. However, would the wider wizarding world view Yoshabelle Dreghorn''s actions through such a charitable lens?

    If word were to spread that the wife of an esteemed member of the International Wizarding Sports Event Judging Committee had ced substantial wagers supporting Durmstrang in a Goblin-run gambling ring, the subsequent storm of scandal and rumor would be utterly devastating.

    Human nature, s, harbored a dark and insidious core; the masses would undoubtedly assume that this entire fiasco had been orchestrated by none other than Vipor Dreghorn himself. Although the binding magical contract strictly prohibited judges from epting any form of bribery from the threepeting schools, it did not stop them from exploiting their positions for personal gain.

    This was not an entirely baseless usation. Bryan found it difficult to believe that Vipor Dreghorn would be entirely oblivious to his wife''s dishonest activities. This spection was quite likely the truth.

    "Aren''t you afraid of offending people?" Bryan''s lips curved into a slight smirk as he scrutinized Gerson Barnah, taking care not to utter any names aloud, lest he inadvertently leave behind any evidence.

    "One must choose the lesser of two evils, Mr. Watson. This is the crucial skill that Goblins must master to survive under the relentless oppression of wizardkind¨C" Gerson Barnah smiled, knowing that the risky list he had provided had already yed a crucial role, and he felt much more relieved.

    "Very good--" Bryan nodded in satisfaction.

    "I am quite pleased with your gift, Mr. Barnah. As long as you do not secretly scheme against Hogwarts again, I will not pursue any further action regarding your exploitation of the tournament for gambling operations."

    As his words hung in the air, Bryan rose to his feet and turned to survey the scene behind him.

    The group of Goblins who had escorted him to this chamber nowy ughtered, their lifeless bodies scattered, leaving only Ragnok and Laddie barely clinging to life ¨C their paleplexions due to the excessive blood loss.

    With a light wave of his wand, the stone spears pinning the two Goblins immediately crumbled into fine sand. Before the gaping wounds could unleash fresh torrents of blood, two emerald orbs of light burst forth from the tip of Bryan''s wand, streaking across the distance in instants to seal the gaping wounds. The healing energies contained within these luminous spheres also restored some much-needed color to the ashen cheeks of the grievously injured pair.

    "Thank you for your generosity¨C" Gerson Barnah rose as well, offering a slight bow of gratitude towards Bryan. After a momentary hesitation, he softly asked, "We will not interfere with this Tournament any further, but Mr. Watson, what of Ludo Bagman and Cuthbert Mockridge?"

    During his previous contemtion, Bryan had already made up his mind. He bluntly said, "There is no need for you to intervene in this matter. I will handle it myself--"

    Pausing briefly to allow his words to sink in, Bryan continued.

    "You can retrieve the Galleons you lent to those two from the betting pool and settle the ounts yourselves. Now, you also need to hand over the betting money they ced on Hogwarts. I will have a talk with them and properly resolve this issue. Additionally, I do not wish to hear any rumors or whispers about this matter in the outside world, of course, including everything that happened here tonight. I do not want anyone to know of these events."

    Had this urred during his wandering years, Bryan would have forced this aged Goblin to enter into a binding magical contract first. However, times had changed, and he was confident in his ability to ensure the Goblins''s silence.

    For tonight, Bryan did not intend to immediately confront Ludo Bagman and Cuthbert Mockridge. Those two were no longer capable of hindering this matter, so it would be prudent to settle ounts after the judging results were finalized.

    He also had no ns to inform Barty Crouch of these developments. Although Senior Barty had vehemently demanded to beat and kill the instigators this very morning, it was hard to say what choices politicians who sniffed out greater interests would make if they truly knew the truth.

    "Mr. Watson¨C" As Barnah observed Bryan carefully packing away the list he had provided and straightening his slightly disheveled cor, preparing to take his leave, the aged Goblin suddenly spoke up, his words halting Bryan''s departure.

    Faced with Bryan''s weighty gaze, Gerson Barnah hesitated for a fleeting moment, but ultimately, he exhaled heavily and unexpectedly asked,

    "Mr. Watson, I want to ask, can we¡ªthe Goblin''s¡ªbe your friends?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0380 Visit

    0380 Visit

    Two hourster, Bryan returned to the damaged hotel room. He slowly made his way back to the lounge chair, staring at the increasingly deeper starlight of thete-night sky as his thoughts quietly churned in his mind.

    Some of the events that urred tonight were indeed quite unexpected, but as for the oue, it wasn''t too bad.

    In particr, the final request made by the old goblin named Gerson Barnah could be considered Bryan''s biggest gain from the trip to Paris.

    In recent years, Bryan had been active in the Underground World, and the connections he had established were with those who lurked in the shadows. However, after being invited back to Hogwarts, a series of incidents gradually pushed him into the public eye.

    And amongst the elite echelons of "high society," he was also gradually building anotherwork of rtionships.

    This was actually a matter of time. In the bright world, weaker individuals instinctively seek protection from the strong, and as Bryan''s power was gradually exposed to people, those seeking his friendship would only increase, just like Gerson Barnah today.

    Gerson Barnah''s "defection" was quite valuable to Bryan, meaning he had created a certain influence within another vast poption of sentient beings with great potential besides wizards.

    Power brings influence, and in some situations, influence also means authority.

    In the second half of this year, Harry would be entering his fourth year. Bryan couldn''t remember exactly when Tom Riddle had returned to the wizarding world, reigniting a new round of war, but he could imagine it would be at most two or three years from now.

    At that critical juncture, how should he position himself?

    How would Albus Dumbledore respond to these rapidly unfolding events? What measures would the Ministry of Magic take? And what methods would Voldemort employ to regain his former might?

    Bryan had meticulously mapped out the potential reactions of each faction in his mind.

    For Bryan, the biggest problem wasn''t Voldemort, but Albus Dumbledore.

    The two men shared the same goal, but the contrasts in their personalities and ideas destined a rift between them. And once war was imminent, if internal conflicts arose, it would undoubtedly be fatal.

    One side had to concede.

    In Bryan''s view, Dumbledore''s biggest problem was being soft-hearted. He always tried to control losses to the minimum extent and avoid implicating or harming more people.

    But Bryan''s view was that in the brutal carnage of war, there could be no true innocents.

    As the saying goes, "One toopassionate cannotmand troops."

    Once the war broke out, he would not allow anyone to y both sides. Whether friend or foe had to be made clear ¨C there could be no ambiguity. Afterwards, he would arrange all avable forces to overwhelm the opposition, advancing in a relentless, step-by-step campaign to steadily shrink the enemy''s living space and, conveniently, uproot some of the deep-seated cancers afflicting the wizarding world along the way.

    But to reach that critical juncture, he first needed to amass even greater influence.

    The violet irises reflected the fleeting, dazzling trail of a shooting star streaking across the inky canvas of the night sky. Bryan clenched his fist upon the armrest, then slowly rxed it once more.

    He still had to choose the timing to make a proper debut before everyone.

    As for the Ministry of Magic, he would also need to cultivate considerable influence within its ranks. And this was precisely why Bryan had not immediately dragged Ludo Bagman and Cuthbert Mockridge out and thrown them at the feet of Barty Crouch.

    The Ministry led by Fudge was utterly incapable of contending with the overwhelming flood that would inevitably follow in Voldemort''s return to power. Cornelius Fudge''s resignation was almost a certainty, and Bryan''s current n centered upon pushing Amelia Bones into the position of Minister for Magic in the aftermath of Fudge''s removal.

    This woman possessed a certain degree of decisiveness and courage, coupled with a simmering dissatisfaction with the stagnant situation in the wizarding world and her yearning for substantive change, unlike Barty Crouch, whose sole concern was the preservation of his own power and authority.

    Ludo Bagman was not a wizard capable of shouldering major responsibilities. His ascension to the ranks of Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports within the Ministry was more of a consequence of the power vacuum created by Voldemort''s devastating impact upon the wizarding world over the past decade ¨C a circumstance that had allowed this former Quidditch yer to slip through the cracks.

    Yet, it remained an undeniable truth that Ludo had a certain degree of poprity among themon folks. In other words, he had a bit of influence within the British wizarding world, rendering him somewhat useful, if only in a limited capacity.

    As for Cuthbert Mockridge, Bryan knew very little about the man. But judging by his old age, his retirement from his current ministerial position would be happening in just year or two away at most. He had no great reputation to speak of. But since Bryan now held leverage over him, and was urgently seeking to expand his influence within the Ministry...

    A peculiar light flickered in Bryan''s eyes. Regarding Cuthbert Mockridge, he had already formted a decisive n of action.

    Early morning, on the outskirts of Paris.

    Above a winding, twisting tributary of the Seine River, a chilly mist hovered, constantly shifting shapes with the light breeze.

    On the northern side of the river sprawled a vast expanse of meticulously cultivated rice paddies, where a few magically-driven machines tilled the fertile fields. Half a mile to the south of the river''s bank stood a sparse white birch forest, on the edge of which towered a five-story wooden dwelling with a vibrant red roof and snow-white walls. At that moment, plumes of smoke billowed from the chimney, filling the crisp morning air with a rich, smoky aroma.

    In the expansive clearing before the house, a thickyer of fallen leaves nketed the ground. A handful of children, appearing no more than seven or eight years of age, yed upon the stone path leading from the house to the riverbank.

    A mischievous red-haired boy broke away from his siblings, giving chase to a small gnome and gradually making his way toward the riverbank. A tiny fish, leaping from the clear, gently flowing stream, suddenly captured the boy''s attention. Abandoning the gnome burrowing into the mud, he swiftly stripped off his shoes and socks, rolled up the legs of his trousers, and carefully stepped onto the cobblestones lining the riverbank before wading into the water itself.

    The icy chill of the morning stream caused the boy to grimace, but the sight of the fish swaying gracefully in the crystalline depths soon diverted his focus once more.

    He bent down, cupping his hands together, eagerly following the fish''s movements and asionally letting out joyful peals ofughter that reverberated across the tranquil scene.

    Danger, however, often arrives unexpectedly. The boy ying in the water was unaware that he was gradually stepping toward the center of the stream.

    At that moment, the children ying in the clearing finally noticed they were missing apanion. ncing around, a sharp-eyed little girl spotted the boy heading into danger in the stream.

    "What are you doing, Ludwig!" The little girl let out a startled cry, immediately catching the attention of the two younger boys. In an instant, the trio of children dashed toward the riverbank in a state of escting panic.

    "Get out quickly, Ludwig!" The girl panted heavily as she reached the water''s edge. "The water in the center is deep, you''ll drown!"

    <strong>Ssh!</strong>

    A few glistening droplets scattered in the air. Feeling the life pulsing in his cupped palms, Ludwigughed merrily, utterly oblivious to the potential danger.

    "It''s no big deal, Cami. Look what I caught! Oh, why don''t you alle down too? We can make a pot of fish stew for ourselves!"

    Ludwig grinned, straightening up and about to turn and call Cami and the others down. But suddenly, an irresistible dizziness overcame him, his vision blurring. Amid a piercing scream of panic, Ludwig vaguely realized the world was tilting before his eyes!

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    A gust of wind suddenly whipped across the gently flowing stream. On the riverbank, the few shrieking children felt a fleeting shadow sh before their eyes. Immediately thereafter, a young man with striking gray hair and piercing purple irises appeared beside them, Ludwig tucked securely under his arm after his near-plunge into the water''s depths.

    "No need to worry, little ones, everything is alright now --"

    The gray-haired young man''s friendly smile seemed to exude a calming effect. Cami nced at Ludwig, who still appeared dazed, swallowed hard, and found that the overwhelming sense of panic had dissipated.

    "Who are you, sir? How did you appear here--" the little girl asked in a childish, curious voice. "I mean, this is the Dreghorn family''s private property, protected by magic all around. Uninvited people can''t enter, unless--"

    Cami blinked her eyes inquisitively. "Are you Grandpa''s guest?"

    The gray-haired man smiled faintly. He was about to set down the mischievous little boy tucked under his arm, but then a booming sound came from behind the children, and a somewhat flustered elderly figure materialized in the air with an audible crack.

    "What''s going on, Cami? I heard your--"

    The words trailed off abruptly. In casual clothes, Vipor Dreghorn''s rigid expression softened momentarily as he nced at his grandson held securely under the man''s arm. But in the next instant, his rasping voice carried an intense, bloodlust.

    "What do you think you''re doing, Bryan Watson!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0381 Friendship

    0381 Friendship

    Within the spacious lunchroom of the picturesque riverside cottage, Bryan was seatedfortably beside the rustic dining table, his eyes intently focused on reading that day''s edition of "The Gargoyle''s Roar," a newspaper that wielded an influence in Franceparable to that of the ''The Daily Prophet'' in Britain. Bryan remembered that during the previous press conference held at the Ministry of Magic regarding the Greyback incident, one of the female reporters who had asked questions belonged to this newspaper.

    Among the recent hot topics in Paris, the Triwizard Tournament undoubtedly topped the list.

    However, this matter was still under wraps. Although it was no longer a secret among high society, the masses of the European wizarding world remained oblivious to it.

    The newspaper carried some trivial news items. After skimming through it, Bryan casually tossed the paper onto the table and looked out the restaurant window with an amused smile on his face. Several children who were peeping through the window immediately shrank their heads.

    In that precise moment, Vipor Dreghorn, with a sullen and frosty face, entered the lunchroom, clutching a te with steaming, freshly baked bread slices and a silver pitcher brimming with hot milk. He ced the tray before Bryan with a distinct air of reluctance. "I don''t have much to offer you, Watson,"

    Although quite old in age, Vipor Dreghorn''s temper was still as fiery as ever. He wore a frosty expression. If Bryan Watson hadn''t coincidentally saved his grandson moments ago, Bryan would never have been allowed into this ce. But there was nothing to be grateful for either, as Ludwig would not have been in any real danger of his life even without him(<em>he thought so</em>). Moreover, Bryan Watson had trespassed onto his property without permission.

    "It''s alright, Mr. Dreghorn. I''m not picky," Bryan replied, his tone one of casual nonchnce, not reacting to the tension that permeated the air.

    Vipor Dreghorn''s attitude was already much better than what he had expected. In fact, Bryan had barged in with the intention of first engaging with Vipor Dreghorn in a scuffle before properlymunicating. It was just that the wonderful coincidence just now saved this situation that was very likely to happen.

    "ording to the rules--" Vipor began, his piercing gaze fixing upon Bryan, who was leisurely savoring his breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was an unwee guest. Yet, it was this veryposure thatpelled Vipor to reluctantly acknowledge that Bryan Watson was no ordinary wizard. Considering the young man''s age, the term ''exceptional'' seemed a gross understatement ¨C Dumbledore''s vision and discernment remained as impable as ever.

    At the previous party, misled by that cunning fellow Karkaroff and his own desire to embarrass Hogwarts and Dumbledore, he had rashly confronted Bryan Watson without conducting a proper investigation ¨C a decision that he now recognized as utterly foolish.

    However, as he recalled the humiliation he had suffered, his fleeting regret was swiftly drowned by a resurgent wave of anger towards Bryan. His fist clenched tightly beneath the table''s surface, his knuckles whitening with the intensity of his grip. "Before the reviewmittee convenes, Watson, I should not have any private contacts with the representatives of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, or with officials from the three ministries of magic. So..."

    Vipor paused, drawing a deep, steadying breath as his previously suppressed rage burst forth in a torrent of scolding words uttered in a raised voice, "After you finish eating, please leave my house immediately, Watson. I won''t report the trespassing to the Ministry of Magic. Let''s just pretend we never met today!"

    "It seems..." Facing the coldly indifferent Vipor Dreghorn, Bryan calmly retrieved a napkin and dabbed at the corners of his mouth with practiced refinement. Then, leaning back in his chair with unhurried motion, he smiled faintly, "You''re quite familiar with the selection rules, aren''t you, Mr. Dreghorn?"

    Vipor Dreghorn narrowed his eyes, not understanding what tricks Bryan was ying.

    Before the party, the two did not know each other at all, and there was no friendship to reminisce about. Bryan, too, was keenly aware that his presence was not only unwanted but utterly unwee, and thus he made no attempt to conceal his intentions. Under Vipor''s wary, scrutinizing gaze, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a spatial bag, tossing it onto the dining table.

    The instant the bag made contact with the table''s surface, it emitted a melodious series of pleasant tinkling sounds, the unmistakable chime of coins colliding. No further exnation was required ¨C Vipor instantly knew what was inside.

    "What''s the meaning of this?" The previously cautious gaze morphed into a disdainful re as the old man sneered, the corners of his mouth twisting in a contemptuous sneer, "Have you lost your mind, Watson? Trying to bribe me with galleons? You should know that as a member of the reviewmittee, we are strictly bound by magical contracts. We cannot ept any favors from the three parties. Take your money and leave my house, or I''ll expose today''s incident and let you taste the humiliation of a tarnished reputation!"

    "Perhaps you misunderstood, Mr. Dreghorn," Bryan said, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly, "Bribery? How could I do such a stupid thing?"

    Without pausing to allow Vipor an opportunity to respond, Bryan continued, "This is not a bribe, Mr. Dreghorn. My purpose ining here is to return what rightfully belongs to you. Eight thousand Galleons ¨C this is the amount your wife, Mrs. Yoshabelle, inadvertently left behind at the Gringotts headquarters while conducting business there."

    As Bryan spoke, Vipor Dreghorn''s expression underwent a rapid session of transformations. He stared at the bag of coins resting innocently upon the table, his dry lips quivering, rendered utterly speechless, unable to formte a clear response. When atst he tore his gaze away and met Bryan''s steady, unwavering stare, his eyes showed a hint of fear.

    "This is not mine-" Vipor blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips in haste, but he abruptly mped his mouth shut, the sentence remaining unfinished.

    It was a certainty that Bryan Watson had close ties with goblins; otherwise, he could never have retrieved these eight thousand Galleons from the greedy ws of those creatures.

    From Bryan''s expression, he probably thought that he wanted to make a fortune by taking advantage of his status, but that was not the case.

    After the Federation decided to select amittee from among its members to review theprehensive safety proposals submitted by the three rival schools and ultimately choose the host venue for the prestigious Triwizard Tournament, Igor Karkaroff, that cunning and duplicitous the headmaster of Durmstrang, saw an opportunity and approached Yoshabelle.

    That cunning fellow did not make any requests to Yoshabelle. He just reminisced about their school days with her and pretended to casually mention that the goblins had already set up a betting pool, with Durmstrang currently having the most favorable odds of emerging victorious.

    As partners of several decades, Karkaroff knew that Yoshabelle would be really tempted by the alluring prospect of not only amassing a substantial fortune in Galleons but also the chance to contribute, to the glory and sess of her beloved alma mater.

    Vipor, while aware of the inherent risks involved in such an endeavor, had nevertheless been swayed by the opportunity to strike a blow against Dumbledore and Hogwarts, and thus he had been happy to see it happen. Now, however, with Bryan leveraging this incident as a means to exert leverage and threaten him, Vipor found himself without any usible exnation or justification to offer.

    Both parties were smart people, and knew the consequences of this matter being exposed.

    "What exactly do you want, Watson?" Vipor''s voice emerged as a hoarse, rasping whisper, devoid of its previously blustering harshness.

    Just a day had passed, and the embarrassment he faced at the party had already be widely known. If this incident were to be exposed as well, forget about vying for the chairmanship after Dumbledore''s retirement ¨C even his current position might not be secure!

    He could not, would not, abandon either his hard-won status or his beloved wife, Yoshabelle, to the ravages of disgrace and ruin.

    "I have nothing else to ask for, Mr. Dreghorn--" Bryan said with a faint smile as he stood up. "I just hope that in the matter of selecting the Triwizard Tournament host, you will make a fair and impartial judgment."

    Unlike his interactions with the goblins of Gringotts, Bryan had no expectation or desire of befriending Vipor Dreghorn. Having achieved his objective, he had no desire to linger further. Barty could return at any moment, and he needed to hurry back to the hotel before then.

    "Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Dreghorn," Bryan said as his palm touched the cold metallic surface of the doorknob. Suddenly remembering something, Bryan stopped in his tracks and turned around. He saw Vipor Dreghorn sitting motionless on the chair, looking directly at him with a cold stare. Bryan blinked slowly, pondered for a moment, and then smiled faintly.

    "There''s no need to be so hostile towards me, Mr. Dreghorn. Perhaps someday in the future, we could be friends."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0382 Two Months

    0382 Two Months

    Bryan stayed in Paris for two months.

    Two months earlier, after paying a visit to Vipor Dreghorn, Hogwarts smoothly passed the review and was officially selected as the host of the Triwizard Tournament.

    This was actually an expected oue, as Hogwarts had unparalleled advantages over the other two schools. Although thepetition was intense, victory was anticipated if it weren''t for someone secretly causing trouble behind the scenes.

    In organizing an event of such grand scale and international significance, there were still many things to be finalized.

    For instance, determining the precise number of champion candidates, nning living and studying arrangements for the visiting students and professors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang during their stay at Hogwarts, finalizing the specific dates for the tournament''s start, and, most crucially, deciding upon the specificpetitive events. However, Bryan had no authority to participate in discussions about thistter part.

    As Hogwarts''s representative, the tournament events had to remain confidential from the champions until officiallyunched to prevent leaks. Hence, no personnel from any of the three schools was allowed to inquire about it.

    Despite this limitation, Bryan found himself immersed in a whirlwind of activity, attending countless meetings that consumed nearly every hour of his days.

    It was during these gatherings that he bore witness to the remarkable efficiency with which these dedicated individuals worked. As, the slightest trifles could ignite unending quarrels, with tempers ring and voices raised in heated debates. Igor Karkaroff even stretched his neck and yelled at themittee over such trivial matters of whether the number of champion candidates should be eleven or twelve.

    Equally tough was Madame Maxime, who, in stark contrast to her usual graceful demeanor, meticulously scrutinized every possible aspect, nitpicking at the slightest apparent fault or oversight.

    Bryan knew that the two schools were resentful of being defeated in thepetition to host the Triwizard Tournament, so he tried to be as amodating as possible.

    Fortunately, the young Fleur Dcour, from Beauxbatons, waspelled to return to her alma mater once the review process concluded, otherwise Bryan might have had more problems to worry about.

    However, judging from the sullen expression on the girl''s face when she bid farewell, she seemed to have developed a grudge against him.

    Apart from the numerous matters rted to the Triwizard Tournament, Bryan also dealt with some other troubles during those two months.

    Among these were the troublesome affairs involving Cuthbert Mockridge and the infamous Ludo Bagman.

    After the review results were finalized, he had separate talks with these two fellows.

    The oue was that after concluding his ''journey'' and returning to Ennd, Mockridge promptly submitted an early retirement application to Cornelius Fudge, strongly rmending that Dirk Cresswell, the deputy head of the Goblin Liaison Office, to seed him.

    As for Ludo Bagman, he took leave from Barty Crouch Sr, citing health issues, then slunk back to Ennd, never interfering with the Triwizard Tournament again.

    At Hogwarts, however, things were rtively calm, except for a minor incident involving Sirius.

    In the second week of May, the annual Hogwarts Quidditch finals finally began amid great anticipation.

    In this fateful Gryffindor versus Slytherin match, with no external interference, Gryffindor finally emerged victorious, ending Slytherin''s streak of consecutive championship wins. For the first time in seven years, the Quidditch Cup was relocated from the office of Professor Snape to that of Professor McGonagall.

    However, the joy of victory was swiftly overshadowed by a brewing storm of controversy.

    The Slytherins were indignant at the oue and believed that Harry Potter had cost them the championship. So, that very night, a group of Slytherin students pretended to be Dementors to scare Harry, Hermione, and Ron who came back from celebrating with Hagrid, but they were caught red-handed by Sirius, who was returning from the staff bathroom.

    In a fit of rage, Sirius dragged those students to Dumbledore''s office, demanding their expulsion. Dumbledore, of course, refused his request. Consequently, Sirius emptied the Slytherin hourss over the incident.

    Professor Snape was no pushover. Once he became aware of the situation, he immediately confronted Sirius.

    Inevitably, another battle erupted at Hogwarts, this time even affecting the students.

    The school found itself overwhelmed by a flood ofints from the aggrieved parents of the injured students, their outrage mingling with a torrent of inquiries from the Ministry of Magic, crashing upon Hogwarts like a relentless tidal wave. Faced with this storm of controversy, Sirius, who was originally acting as the substitute professor, resigned and left Hogwarts to give an exnation to these people and spent the following month in Hogsmeade.

    Dumbledore, Snape, and Sirius all sent him letters afterward, each uniquely exining what had happened.

    Bryan had thought that Draco must have been among the students who nned this or attacked Harry, but unexpectedly, Draco was not involved this time. Instead, Pansy Parkinson had instigated Crabbe and Goyle, causing such a farce with serious consequences.

    When Bryan finally returned to Hogwarts after attending to the Parisian affairs, the final examinations had already concluded, and the young wizards and witches had packed their belongings, departing for their respective homes.

    With the students gone, Hogwarts became deserted, and the staff were eager to leave and enjoy the rare annual leisure time. In the vast campus, only Hagrid remained faithfully guarding the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

    <strong>KABOOM!</strong>

    A violent explosion blew open the door of Hagrid''s hut, and Hagrid burst out from the billowing smoke, coughing loudly while clutching a wooden crate protectively to his barrel-like chest.

    "I think--"

    At the edge of the ck Lake, Dumbledore and Bryan were strolling along the shore. Noticing Bryan''s inquisitive gaze, a wry smile appeared beneath Dumbledore''s beard in the zing noonday sun.

    "Hagrid is probably trying to breed some unprecedented magical creature,"

    Bryan withdrew his concerned gaze and nodded understandingly. Then, he smiled, "You''re always particrly indulgent towards those close to you, Headmaster."

    Dumbledore''s expression grew slightly more somber, though his voice remained candid and unhurried. "If you''re referring to my attitude regarding Sirius''s incident, Bryan, I hope you understand that the nature of that incident was different."

    "I fully understand Sirius''s guilt towards Harry after those series of events. He wants to make up for the responsibilities he failed to fulfill and theck of care Harry experienced over the past twelve years. However, excessive care serves no purpose and can actually harm Harry and others, as this incident has proven my view."

    Bryan gently shook his head without furtherment, gazing at the ripplingke surface.

    "By the way, where is Sirius?" he inquired, his brow furrowing slightly as a new thought took root.

    "He previously wrote to inform me that he would be waiting for me in Hogsmeade, but I sense he is currently in London. What''s he doing there?"

    "He hopes to have a discussion with the Muggle couple who took in Harry," Dumbledore replied calmly, also stopping in his tracks.

    "Sirius learned about Harry''s situation at his aunt and uncle''s home from you. He wanted to rescue Harry from there but had to abandon that n due to the reasons I told you. However, he still worries about Harry''s circumstances, so he hopes to negotiate Harry''s treatment at home directly with that Muggle couple."

    "You didn''t stop him?"

    "I can''t think of any reason to prevent Sirius from doing so, unless he ns to cast curses on that Muggle couple and their child."

    At the edge of the Forbidden Forest, in the direction of the snow-capped mountains, a vast expanse of dark clouds billowed forth, flickering with lightning. In an instant, the scenery transformed drastically.

    The air was thick with moisture, and countless magical creatures beneath the now-ripplingke surface began to stir restlessly.

    Bryan was not surprised that Dumbledore knew the specifics of Harry''s aunt and uncle''s family. Dumbledore always knew everything. What he wanted to know was Dumbledore''s view on the matter he and Sirius were about to do.

    The towering castle standing on the cliffs was shrouded by the approaching shadows in the sky. The damp air seemed to carry a faint, bloody scent for some unknown reason. Dumbledore turned to gaze at the millennium-old castle, and somehow, the man with his flowing beard appeared to have a touch of twilight about him, even his usually clear, deep blue eyes now became slightly clouded.

    Magices from the heart ¨C an absolute truth that Bryan had learned through years of first-hand experience. Yet, in that moment, as he studied Dumbledore''s features, he could not shake the unsettling sense that something had shifted within the very essence of the man before him.

    "What''s wrong?" The words slipped from Bryan''s lips, imbued with a weight that hid their surface simplicity. His brow furrowed, creasing with concern as he awaited Dumbledore''s response.

    "There is something I need to ask of you, Bryan," Dumbledore began, his voice heavy,den with a solemnity that reverberated through the air. His gaze swept across the grounds of Hogwarts, taking in every de of grass, every gnarled and twisting branch of the ancient trees that had borne silent witness to countless cycles of life and death. Yet, his eyes did not meet Bryan''s.

    "There is much evidence that darkness is stirring once again."

    A weary sigh drifted away with the rising winds, carrying with it the weight of untold burdens and solemn responsibilities. Dumbledore''s frame seemed to bear the mantle of ages, and the now much older-looking Dumbledore finally met Bryan''s intent gaze.

    "If next school year, you notice certain things happening at Hogwarts, Bryan," he continued as thest ray of sunlight fell on him, casting a very faint shadow on the ground, "I hope you will remain silent."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0383 The Journey

    0383 The Journey

    <strong>BOOM!</strong>

    A deafening p of thunder reverberated through the mountains and valleys, making the world shudder!

    In an instant, torrential rains enveloped the world. The formerly glisteningke surface was now turbulent under the onught of howling winds and pounding rain. Forks of lightning shed across theyered towers of Hogwarts, casting an eerily pale glow on the gloomy castle.

    The rainstorm rapidly raised theke level, swiftly overflowing the banks. When the surging waters were about to reach Bryan and Dumbledore, who stood facing each other in the downpour, it automatically diverted and flowed to other ces.

    <em>''Darkness stirring once again, remain silent?''</em>

    "You''ve decided?" Bryan thought back to his previous spection. Harry had almostpleted half his schooling at Hogwarts. At some point, in the future, Voldemort would seize the opportunity to return. And Dumbledore, apparently with a clearer view, had already sensed through various signs that the moment of this impending disaster could no longer be averted.

    "What prompted you to make such a decision?" Before Dumbledore could answer the first question, Bryan asked the second one.

    "In the two months you''ve been away from Hogwarts¡ª"

    Facing Bryan, Dumbledore saw no need to beat around the bush. He calmly stated, "Severus had been repeatedly warning me in private. His past secret magical connection with Tom allowed him to sense that Tom was growing stronger¡ª"

    "Secret magical connection?" Bryan''s brow furrowed slightly. He knew Professor Snape had once worked for Voldemort, but what was this about a magical connection?

    "The Dark Mark," Dumbledore exined concisely. "I think you''ve heard of this ''intimate'' mark shared between Tom and his followers."

    "Tom has clearly received some form of aid, which has helped him partially ovee his wretched, barely-existing state after the rebounding Killing Curse stripped him of his body twelve years ago, though his Horcruxes allowed him to linger on. Knowing him as I do, he would never be satisfied and would stop at nothing to regain his former power."

    "What aid? Who is helping him?"

    In the current wizarding world, if you ask who knows the situation of Voldemort the most, it is undoubtedly the old man who has stood in the world for a hundred years. In this regard, Bryan is far inferior to Dumbledore.

    Bryan''s gaze locked onto Dumbledore''s brilliant blue eyes.

    "I don''t know everything, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore managed a faint smile. "But Tom has always found a way to obtain help, no matter the circumstances."

    "What do you think he might do?"

    "As I''ve said, Bryan, though my aging mind holds a lot of information, I am far from being omniscient. More often than not, I can only rely on guesswork to deduce the course of events¡ª"

    "Then hazard a guess, Headmaster Dumbledore. It won''t matter if you''re wrong," Bryan smiled, observing the helplessness on the aged face beside him.

    Amidst the howling winds and torrential rains, Bryan''s smile shone like a beacon, dispelling some of Dumbledore''s worries and gloom. A head taller than Bryan, Dumbledore looked down at the young yet unusuallyposed face, his own brow unwrinkling noticeably.

    "Very well, if you insist, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore''s voice lightened. "Then let us specte."

    Pausing briefly, Dumbledore did not voice his guess. Instead, he asked back, "You are familiar with Horcruxes, Bryan. Surely, then, you must also know what methods a disembodied wizard with Horcruxes might employ to regain their former power?"

    In an instant, Bryan scanned the vast expanse of magical knowledge stored in his mind, yet as that knowledge shed before his eyes, his brow furrowed slightly.

    Not because he couldn''t find anything, but because there was too much!

    Modern systems, ancient systems,plete and fragmentary¡ªmagic capable of helping a disembodied soul regain physical form was not at all unique.

    No one dares to im that he is proficient in all magical knowledge. Whether it is Dumbledore or Bryan, it is difficult to lock in a specific magic that Voldemort might use from these.

    Bryan gazed deeply into Dumbledore''s brilliant eyes, and suddenly, a thought struck him. "You think he might use Harry?"

    "That seems most likely¡ª" Dumbledore turned his gaze toward Gryffindor Tower. "I suspect Tom has spent these years trying to understand why his magic failed against Harry all those years ago. And now, he has likely uncovered at least some of the truth."

    Dumbledore clearly did not want to exin further, but based on this information, he had already guessed it.

    It was only natural, then, to understand Dumbledore''s request for Bryan to remain silent about the potential events that might happen at Hogwarts the next school year.

    Numerous thoughts raced through Bryan''s mind, but ultimately, the words that escaped his lips were, "Have you considered the possibility that Harry might still die, Headmaster?"

    Dumbledore fell silent for a long while before wearily replying, "I cannot foresee everything, but I will do my utmost to ensure Harry''s safety, Bryan. This will also require your assistance. Perhaps you will think that sending a fourth-year student to face the most dangerous Dark wizard in history is an act of despicable cowardice¡ª"

    "No¡ª" Bryan shook his head. "That is your most admirable quality."

    As the clouds dispersed and the sun reemerged, bathing thend in its rays,

    At the school gate, Sirius squeezed in from the big iron gate, and he saw Bryan and Dumbledore by theke from a distance.

    "Oh, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore suddenly spoke, ncing at Sirius trotting over. "I don''t know why you insist on visiting Azkaban without using the Ministry''s channel, but regarding the prisoners there, I hope you will refrain from interfering with their peaceful lives as much as possible."

    "I''ll be mindful of that."

    Bryan strode forward with a smile, waving at Sirius with keen interest. "I hear you went to negotiate with the Dursleys. How did it go?"

    "Do you even need to ask!" Disying no signs of dejection from being forced out of the professorship, Sirius trotted over with a broad grin. "Harry was right¡ªthat Muggle family is utterly unpleasant."

    Sirius nced past Bryan''s shoulder at the distant Dumbledore and lowered his voice. "I threatened that nasty bunch. If Harry receives any targeting or unfair treatment while at their house, I''ll personally blow it to smithereens!

    I told them I''m an escaped convict, so I don''t care about adding a few more lives to my tally. You should have seen their reaction, Bryan! That boy, practically the size of a baby whale, wet himself out of sheer terror!"

    Truth be told, Bryan did not entirely approve of Sirius''s approach, but he refrained from voicing his own opinions, and simply chuckled casually.

    "How are your preparationsing along?"

    "Ready to depart at any time!" Sirius said happily.

    Neither Bryan nor Sirius wanted this adventure to be dyed for too long, but in reality, they were still dyed for two days.

    Suddenly, a letter arrived for Sirius from St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries. It was from Remus. After months of recuperation, the werewolf virus within Remus''s body had finally subsided to a safe level. In about a week''s time, he would be discharged from the hospital.

    Remus, who had been stuck in the hospital for almost half a year, impatiently wrote inquiring about Sirius''s recent ns.

    Remus certainly hoped to have thepany of his old friend when he was discharged from the hospital. However, Sirius needed to go on a journey with Bryan, which conservatively estimated, could take twenty days to a month. So, Sirius made a special trip to the hospital to apologize to Remus.

    Nevertheless, there was something to look forward to.

    After their return, the 422nd Quidditch World Cup would be just around the corner. Sirius nned to join Remus in picking up Harry from the Dursleys'' home, and after reuniting with Harry''s friends, they would go to watch the World Cup together.

    The two sincerely invited Bryan to join them, but he had never been particrly interested in this kind of sport except muggle football.

    The first half of this journey was generallyfortable.

    They chose to travel by Muggle means, first taking a flight from London to the northern port city of Aberdeen in northeast Scond, one of the major cities in the Scottish region.

    The ferry from Aberdeen to the Shend Inds typically departed at 7 PM and arrived the following morning at the port, meaning Bryan and Sirius would need to spend the night on board.

    Despite the impending summer season inte June, the temperatures here were not scorching. Instead, a slight chill permeated the air.

    <strong>BOOM¡ª</strong>

    In the dead of night, as the ferry sailed through the dense fog over the sea, it suddenly plunged from a height of four or five stories into the trough between the waves, causing violent turbulence that terrified the Muggle tourists sleeping in their rooms. Even Bryan was awakened by themotion.

    To be honest, Bryan wasn''t particrly good at handling these lessfortable modes of transportation.

    But there was no choice. When the destination wasn''t precise, using Apparition wasn''t a good option, and broomsticks demanded too much physical exertion, so wizards wouldn''t normally choose them for long-distance travel.

    Opening his sleepy eyes, Bryan nced at the bed beside him; Sirius wasn''t in the room.

    His gaze prated the cabin walls, which had already let in some seawater, and Bryan easily located Sirius''s position. After a moment''s thought, he put on a coat, opened the bedroom door, and entered the narrow corridor filled with the scent of sea and rust.

    Everything in view was chaotic. At the end of the hallway, a slovenly Muggle sailor had secured himself to the railing with a safety harness and was resting with his eyes closed.

    The seemingly careless sailor was more alert than expected. When Bryan''s palm touched the icy doorknob, the sailor immediately opened his eyes, gripped Bryan''s wrist, and fixed him with a wary gaze through his disheveled hair.

    "What are you doing?"

    "I have a friend on the deck, and I need to find him."

    "Don''t lie!" The sailor bluntly called out this ''lie.'' Straining his voice to reach Bryan''s ears, he said, "I''ve been guarding here the whole time, sir. No one has passed through, and besides, there''s a hurricane raging outside with waves as high as several stories. If your friend is really out there, he''s definitely not on the deck. I reckon he''s probably feeding the fish at the bottom of the sea!"

    A hint of helplessness shed in Bryan''s eyes. "You''re really unlucky tonight, brother. I hope getting hit with two Confundus Charms doesn''t scramble your brain."

    "What?"

    Before the confused sailor could ask anything further, the world before his eyes suddenly became hazy, and his mind grew foggy as well.

    <strong>Click!</strong>

    The sailor utched the door, opening the heavy iron portal for Bryan. Ignoring the raging storm, he cheerfully said, "What lovely weather, sir. The sunshine is brilliant, and the sea breeze is gentle. I hope you have a pleasant journey!"

    "Thank you."

    Bryan politely nodded, stepped over the threshold, and unsteadily climbed the steeldder to the deck.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0384 Siriusâ€™s Struggle

    0384 Sirius¡¯s Struggle

    Bryan politely nodded, stepped over the threshold, and unsteadily climbed the steeldder to the deck.

    In the midst of the raging waves, this sizable ferry rocked like a small boat, rising and falling with the surging tides. Bryan could constantly hear the ominous groan of straining steel, as if the ferry might disintegrate in the terrifying waves at any second.

    The ferry seemed to sail through theherworld itself. The night sky was pitch ck, the sea a deep inkwell shade, and some otherworldly force appeared to swallow lights emitted by the ferry.

    This is the might of nature!

    The thought suddenly urred to Bryan as he gazed at a wave cresting higher than the ship''s bow.

    It''s not that he has never been to sea before, but it had always been for missions requiring secrecy. He basically would not use the transportation methods of wizards or Muggles, but chose the more flexible flying broom instead. This was Bryan''s first time using Muggle maritime travel, and from a Muggle''s perspective, the power of nature was truly terrifying.

    Not just Muggles¡ªeven wizards couldn''t withstand the forces of nature.

    The waves crashed onto the deck, sweeping away a few buckets that were not fixed.

    Sirius had used a bit of magic to secure himself on the deck but hadn''t cast a water-repelling charm, so his figure was submerged in inky waves.

    <strong>Hum.</strong>

    A hidden magical barrier clung to his body as Bryan floated over to Sirius''s side.

    "Looking for a thrill?"

    "Just reminiscing," Sirius wiped the seawater from his face, a tinge of sorrow in his smile. "After escaping from Azkaban, I drifted alone at sea for several weeks. It seems it was around this season too. Heh, less than a year has passed, but it feels like many years ago."

    Bryan pursed his lips, giving a slight smile but did not speak.

    "I was so desperate back then." Sirius closed his eyes, letting the cold seawater p his face.

    "I carefully avoided sirens and merpeople. When the winds were calm, I''d find some fish from the sea to eat. Sometimes, there was no rain so I went several days without a drop of fresh water and had to make do with drinking the blood ofrger fish. When strong winds picked up, I couldn''t control my movements at all and was tossed dozens of feet into the air by the waves or mmed into the depths of the sea. Countless times, I thought I was doomed."

    Reliving those moments made the memories more real and vivid, causing Sirius to shudder violently a few times.

    Bryan knew that Sirius needed someone to talk to, so he remained silent. Fortunately, Sirius quickly regained hisposure, took a deep breath, and buried his emotions.

    "No one knows Azkaban''s exact location. The rumor is that it''s located above the North Sea, so we could only take it one step at a time."

    Bryan asked curiously, "Why didn''t we go straight into the North Sea from Aberdeen but went to the Shend Inds instead?"

    "Because that''s where I came ashore," Sirius exined. "The currents carried me to a location not far from the maind. By then, the waves had calmed a bit. I did fairly well in Astronomy at Hogwarts, so I used what I''d learned from Aurora aboutary orbits and trajectories to determine my position and adjust my direction. But it was still very difficult. By the time I could see the shoreline, I waspletely exhausted."

    A smile tugged at the corners of Sirius''s mouth. "I couldn''t maintain my Animagus form and transformed back into a human. Then an old fisherman named John pulled me out of the sea. He fed me and took care of me when I was exhausted. Thanks to him, I was able to quickly regain my strength and continue sneaking along as my Animagus form. I promised John I''de back to visit him when I could."

    "So where does this fisherman live?" Bryan asked gently.

    At that moment, the raging winds tore through theyered storm clouds, allowing a shaft of moonlight as pure as holy light to bathe a distant ind.

    In the distance, a small light flickered amidst the crashing waves.

    "Ah¡ª" Sirius eximed in joy. "He''s right there!"

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    <strong>...</strong>

    Archaeological evidence suggests that human activity on the Shend Inds dates back to around 3000 BC. Over the centuries, these inds have experienced various shifts in control and influence.

    For centuries after the Roman Empire, the Shend Inds saw significant Norse influence. During the 8th and 9th centuries, Viking settlers from Scandinavia began to arrive, and by the early Middle Ages, the inds were effectively under Norse control. The Vikings ruled the Shends until the 15th century.

    In 1469, King Christian I of Norway and Denmark pawned the Shend Inds to James III of Scond as part of a dowry payment for his daughter Margaret''s marriage to the Scottish king. This transaction ultimately led to the Shend Inds bing part of Scottish territory, where they remain today.

    These northernmost British inds have always been sparsely popted. Even today, only 15 of the scattered inds in this archipgo are inhabited, with a total poption of less than 30,000 people.

    If it weren''t for the influx of wealthy tourists seeking remote destinations in recent years, which has brought some economic benefits, the remaining inhabitants would likely have migrated torger cities long ago.

    Old John was not a native of the Shend Inds, nor even from Aberdeen.

    He hailed from Newcastle in eastern Ennd. During World War II, he was conscripted into the military and ended up battling invading enemies in these waters. That brutal battle left one of his legs weakened; in damp, cold weather, the injured leg would ache and stiffen terribly, making it difficult for him to sleep.

    Nevertheless, Old John neverined.

    After all, in order to resist the invasion, his unit at the time fought an obscure battle in these waters that resulted inplete annihtion¡ªhe was the sole survivor.

    After the war ended, John returned to Newcastle. He had expected to live a happy, peaceful life, but when he arrived at his long-awaited home, he found not only his wife in the bedroom but also another man with a very white butt.

    Old John only remembered the man''s white butt, not his face, because the moment he saw that scene, he pulled out his gun and blew the man''s brains out. After taking one sad look at his screaming wife, Old John fled his home.

    It was all fate.

    Old John came back to the ce where he had once fought. Using his military pension, he bought a house in the town nearest to the coast. However, over the years, he hardly lived in that house, preferring instead to hole up in the lighthouse standing at the edge of the cliffs.

    Lighthouse keeper¡ªthis was the job the townspeople arranged for him after learning he was a veteran soldier who had fought the enemy.

    In previous years, this job served a purpose; he could light the way home for fishermen lost at sea. But these days, the townspeople seldom went out to sea anymore, preferring instead to serve the tourists visiting the area. This work was safer and more lucrative.

    <strong>Knock, knock, knock!</strong>

    The frigid, roaring sea of the previous night seemed like a dream. After the sun rose, the boundless ocean regained its gem-like azure hue. Golden sunlight spilled onto the beach, and seagulls soared freely along the coastline.

    The rust-mottled iron door rattled with knocking, waking Old John, who had suffered a night of leg pain and hardly slept a wink.

    "You little brats, if you don''t settle down, I''ll shove my gun barrel up your asses right in front of your parents!" the bearded, disheveled Old John roared as he crawled out of bed.

    In the past, returning fishermen woulde here and offer gifts from the sea as a gesture of gratitude. But since this tradition, stretching back thousands of years on thesends, fell out of favor, Old John rarely received visitors anymore, save for the asional mischievous boys from town who woulde to pester him for fun.

    These little shits would steal the dried fish he hadid out on the rocks to sun, using them to feed the seagulls, or they would pelt the old gasmps atop the lighthouse with stones, shattering them.

    <strong>Knock, knock, knock!</strong>

    The knocking sounded again, but this time it raised a flicker of wariness in Old John''s eyes.

    If those brats really were causing trouble again, they should have been scared off by his earlier shouting and would not dare knock on his door again so brazenly!

    Old John grabbed the hunting rifle hanging on the wall, bent over, and limped down the spiral staircase, finally positioning himself behind the iron door.

    <strong>Click!</strong>

    The bullet was loaded, and Old John swiftly pulled open the iron door. Before uttering a word, he raised the rifle barrel menacingly, aiming it squarely at the knocker''s head!

    "You lot better¡ªoh!"

    A cry of surprise joined the ethereal cries of the seagulls soaring into the distant, blue sky.

    Perhaps due to the dim lighting, the ground floor where Old John''s living room was located appeared quite messy, scattered with all sorts of odds and ends. The dried fish hanging overhead also filled the room with an unpleasant fishy odor.

    "This ce is pretty much like Hagrid''s hut¡ª"

    With no chairs in the room, Bryan lifted the edge of his coat and casually sat on the ckened stairs, looking at the surroundings with interest.

    "Hagrid?"

    The water on the stove had already boiled, gurgling nonstop. Old John limped over, lifted the kettle, and prepared tea for Sirius and Bryan. Hearing Bryan''sment, he gruffly asked, "Is he a lighthouse keeper too?"

    "Oh, no¡ª" Sirius smiled as he answered the question. "Something simr, though¡ªhe''s the gamekeeper at Hogwarts."

    "Hogwarts? It doesn''t sound like a decent ce!"

    "Indeed¡ª" Bryan couldn''t help butugh as he observed this rather gruff, scruffy old man, both in appearance and personality. "It''s really not very decent¡ªit''s a school for Troubled Teens. Quite a few of the little rascals ended up in prison after graduating due to criminal behavior."

    Sirius rolled his eyes at Bryan. All this time, Bryan''s power had unconsciously caused everyone to overlook his age. Sirius had always regarded him as a peer. But in this moment, Bryan''s demeanor while interacting with this kind Muggle old man made Sirius suddenly realize that he was just a young man in his early twenties.

    Although quite elderly, Old John''s mind remained sharp. He could tell the young man with gray hair was just joking, and he let out a few roughughs. As he poured Sirius''s tea, he squinted, studying Sirius carefully. After the cup was full, he nodded with satisfaction.

    "Looks like you''ve found your way in life, young man¡ª"

    "Yes, though I''ve had some setbacks, the end result turned out alright, I suppose¡ª" Sirius took a deep breath and said, smiling at this robust eighty-year-old man as he caressed the cup''s rim. "How about you? Does your leg still give you trouble?"

    "This old ailment will probably follow me to the grave!"

    After pouring tea for the gray-haired young man as well, Old John tossed the kettle onto the table. Looking around and finding nowhere to sit, he plopped his backside directly onto the table''s edge.

    "So, what brings you back here this time, young man?"

    "Just call me Sirius¡ªI promised you, John, that I''de back to see you if I got the chance. After all, you saved my life¡ª"

    "Still full of lies, just like before!" Old John muttered, his blunt remark causing Sirius''s cheeks to redden slightly with embarrassment.

    "You seem more honest, kid. You don''t look like one of those slick-tongued fellows!" Old John turned his gaze toward Bryan.

    Kid...it had been a long time since anyone called him that¡ª

    Bryan let out an unintentionalugh. But considering this man was a World War II veteran, being addressed that way based on age difference didn''t really bother him. Bryan scratched his cheek.

    "Well, you see, Mr. John, we''re nning to set sail from here¡ª"

    "Set sail?" Old John interrupted, smacking his lips. His weathered, aged face furrowed deeply with concern. "This isn''t a good season for sailing. Storms could arrive at any moment. Unless you''re here tomit suicide, I wouldn''t advise it!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0385 Plans in Lighthouse

    0385 ns in Lighthouse

    On a cloudless night, a brilliant, radiant full moon rose slowly and majestically from the glistening expanse of the vast sea. The moon climbed higher into the inky ck sky, its journey appearingborious, as if struggling against the weight of its own dazzling grandeur.

    Under the cloudless night, the waves crashed mechanically, one after another, against the coastal rocks. At first, the repetitive sound of the waves seemed to possess a purifying power that relieved worries. But if listened to for too long, it would inevitably disturb people''s sleep. Inside the lighthouse standing atop arge boulder, old John was already snoring loudly, while downstairs under the dim yellow light, Sirius and Bryan were still busy with something.

    The me of an alcoholmp heated a cauldron set upon a rack. Inside the tin cauldron, a deep brown, viscous liquid bubbled thickly.

    "If you please, one-fifth ounce of Hog''s Weed juice," Bryan uttered calmly, his gaze unwavering from the half-finished potion bubbling in the cauldron. As the brown liquid began producingrger, more turbulent bubbles instead of smaller, gentler ones, he gave the instruction in an even, measured tone.

    Sirius, every fiber of his being on high alert, immediately pounced upon the table by the window, squinting intently as he rummaged frantically through an array of bottles and jars. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he plucked out a thumb-sized ss vial and extended it towards Bryan.

    "That''s Scorpion secretion you''ve given me," Bryan said sternly, his eyes never leaving the bubbling cauldron. "That stuff is a key ingredient in Mrs. Skower''s All-Purpose Stain Remover. If you want to poison your savior, I wouldn''t mind adding a couple of drops, Sirius--"

    A surge of frustration welled up within Sirius. He hurriedly retracted his outstretched hand, his gaze struggling to scour the messy table once more, desperately seeking the correct one.

    "The light green one to your right," Bryan sighed, a hint of exasperation tinging his words.

    With the precise hint, Sirius finally located the right item. After adding one-fifth ounce of Hog''s Weed juice, the brown solution immediately turned deep green and released a thick plume of smoke. Just inhaling a bit of it made Sirius''s throat burn painfully, and even old John, separated by ayer of wooden nk, coughed violently in his sleep.

    Sirius quickly opened the window to direct the pungent smoke outside. Then he immediately looked toward Bryan, wondering if they had failed. But seeing Bryan stirring the potion clockwise seven times and counterclockwise once with his wand as it gradually shifted from deep to light green, he breathed a sigh of relief.

    "No failure?"

    "Don''t make such bad jokes--" Bryan remained focused. "If I hadn''t devoted most of my efforts to spells and had no time for other subjects, I could have easily earned the titles of Potions Master and Magizoologist."

    Sirius exhaled in relief, shrugging as he walked toward the only chair in the living room.

    "Back when I was a student at Hogwarts, my grades were decent in most sses, but I disliked Potions. Mainly because I didn''t like Professor Slughorn, the Potions teacher at the time. That bloke was always trying to convince me to leave Gryffindor for Slytherin--"

    "I''ve heard some things about Professor Slughorn from Dirk Cresswell, the current head of the Goblin Liaison Office at the Ministry," said Bryan, rubbing his smoke-stung eyes. "He seems to particrly enjoy fraternizing with talented young wizards, heh, very Slytherin-like."

    "Objectively, he''s not terribly unlikable, but that habit of his is a bit of a headache," Sirius said in aining tone. Just as his bottom touched the chair, Bryan urged in a pressing tone, "Don''t sit idle, five Porcupine quills!"

    Porcupine quills were much easier to find than Hog''s Weed juice. This time, Sirius didn''t make a mistake.

    After Bryan added the Porcupine quills to the now clear, lime-tinted solution, the previously calm surface began boiling again, evaporating arge amount of steam from the potion. The originally half-full solution visibly sank at a rapid pace visible to the naked eye, leaving only a small cluster of dew-like, translucent liquid at the bottom within half a minute.

    With a wave of his wand, Bryan automatically transferred the liquid into a clean ss vial. After extinguishing the me, he twisted his neck and finally seemed to rx with a sigh of relief.

    "It''s done?" Under the dim light, Sirius examined the vial containing the crystal liquid that seemed to have life and was suspended against gravity as it hovered, and his voice was slightly nervous.

    "A leg injury that has persisted for half a century is indeed not easy to cure. Considering his advanced age, I''ve adjusted the potency. The entire healing process will likely take around a fortnight. These days may not be veryfortable for him, but after enduring them, his leg and some hidden internal injuries should be essentially healed,"

    "Thank you--" Sirius gripped the vial tightly as he gazed at Bryan, who was putting the bottles and jars back into his travel case, a sincere smile on his face. "You''re more special than Professor Slughorn, Bryan. You know what I mean ¨C people from that House have always been malicious toward Muggles, but you''re willing to put in the effort to brew a healing potion for an old Muggle you barely know. To be honest, if this were a decade or so ago, I would never have believed Slytherin could produce someone like you."

    Bryan had heard simr remarks many times before. He waved his hand dismissively.

    "Just consider it the meal money for these two days. I quite enjoy the hodgepodge made by old John. It''s far superior to the cooking of those house-elves at school."

    Sirius smiled without furtherment.

    Through the grease-stained, dusty ss window, Bryan gazed outside. Deep into the night, the cool air caused a thick fog to rise along the shore, gradually engulfing the small town built on the opennd as the chilly wind swept the mist forward.

    The once brilliant moonlight became hazy, and the sea itself took on an aura of mystery within the obscuring haze.

    Just as he had a premonition before setting out for the ''Eternal Resting ce of Merlin'' with that woman, named Cliodna, Bryan had a vague feeling that this trip might also encounter some surprising events again. His gaze returned to the room, where he observed Sirius who was stealthily feeding the potion to old John, with a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

    For Bryan, getting to Azkaban was not really difficult now. He only needed to apply to the Ministry under the guise of academic research, and they would not refuse him. However, the Ministry would undoubtedly dispatch personnel to apany him at that time. If something happened, handling the aftermath would be very problematic.

    Bryan was not worried that Sirius would b about his affairs. This was a man of upromising loyalty who, in pursuit of self-redemption, had willingly endured over a decade of unimaginable torment imprisoned in Azkaban rather than reveal his own innocence. Bryan believed without question that Sirius would keep his secrets. The issue was that Bryan could not control the risks of this journey.

    After feeding the potion to old John and using magic to let the old man sleep soundly, Sirius exhaled deeply, giving a slight bow toward John with an expression of gratitude.

    If possible, Sirius would have loved to bring old John to live with him in London. But from start to finish, he didn''t utter a word about it, because he knew that this vast expanse of sea was the old man''s true spiritual destiny ¨C besides this, John would not, could not find peace anywhere else.

    Looking at the dim, messy surroundings, Sirius grinned slightly.

    Once Harry graduated from Hogwarts and found a lifelongpanion, then he could move here to keep this kind-hearted old manpany through thest journey of his life.

    After descending the creaky stairs, Sirius caught a glimpse of Bryan, who was observing him from the doorway. In just that one look, Sirius was very shocked.

    He sensed a deep hesitation in Bryan''s gaze, which was very unusual. Having known Bryan for some time now, this guy had always been extremely decisive, and rarely showed such emotions around him.

    "What''s the matter, Bryan?" Sirius asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

    "Nothing--" Bryan averted his eyes, pursing his lips slightly as he struggled to find the right words. "It''s just¡ªI think you realize that my intentions regarding this trip to Azkaban aren''t just about having some kind of reckoning with those Dementors or the prisoners imprisoned there. I''m investigating certain matters, and these matters might be very dangerous."

    Sirius suddenly realized, and then smiled. "You''re afraid of dragging me into it?"

    "Indeed," Bryan said frankly. "I don''t want to lie to you, Sirius. I don''t know what we''ll encounter out there, but I can assure you that if we face real danger, neither I nor Dumbledore will be capable of fully controlling the situation. Harry has finally found a rtive. If something happened to you, he would likely be devastated."

    "Yes, the blow would certainly be devastating," Sirius said with a smile, as if he was not talking about himself. "But I believe in him. Harry is as brave as his father. Even if something unexpected happens to me, Harry will courageously face life. And I¡ª"

    The smile upon Sirius''s weathered face took on a distinctly roguish, mischievous quality, making the experienced man look startlingly like the confident youth he once was.

    "Taking care of Harry, ensuring his well-being and happiness, is my responsibility above all else. But if that singr purpose is all my remaining life amounts to, then I might as well die swiftly at sea!"

    The lighthouse''s beam dimmed slightly in the rising dawn as Bryan used magic to erge and tidy up the rust-stained cabin of the boat. They would have to spend at least a fortnight on the fishing boat old John had given them. Without reinforcing it with magic and making itfortable, they would not be able to survive the drifting days that followed.

    Facing the cool caress of the sea breeze, Sirius tilted his head back, squinting against the fading glitter of the night sky''s canopy of stars as a smile appeared across his lips.

    "When can we set out on this adventure, Bryan? I can hardly contain my eagerness! Oh, this feeling is quite exhrating ¨C it reminds me of venturing with reckless abandon into the Forbidden Forest in our youth, alongside James and Remus!"

    Covered in dust, Bryan poked his head out from the cabin, looking resentful. "If you''re willing toe in and lend me a hand, we could leave sooner!"

    "Oh?" Sirius spread his hands wide in an exaggerated gesture of innocence. "Preparation was never really my strong suit back in our school days - that was always the traitor Peter''s job!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0386 Not so Happy Summer Holidays

    0386 Not so Happy Summer Holidays

    As the sun began its descent on a balmy summer evening, its final golden rays stretchedzily across the rolling hills and shimmering seas, casting a warm, glow upon the white walls of Number Four, Privet Drive. Through a partially drawn curtain on the second floor, the fading light filtered into a dimly lit room, bathing it in a soft, rosy hue.

    Outside, the residents of Privet Drive were taking full advantage of the pleasant weather before dinner. Neatly pressed trousers and floral sundresses swished as neighbors busied themselves in their tidily manicured yards. The rhythmic hum of electricwnmowers mingled with the snip of trimming shears as homeowners trimmed theirwns to perfection and lovingly tended to their vibrant flower beds.

    Children''sughter rang out like silver bells in the tranquil air as they chased each other along the spacious, tree-lined street. A group of youngsters had spotted a stray tabby cat and were in hot pursuit. Watchful parents kept a protective eye on their children from nearby porches, sipping iced tea and exchanging pleasantries with passing neighbors.

    In stark contrast to the lively scene outside, Harry stood motionless at his bedroom window, peering expressionlessly through a small gap in the heavy curtains. His emerald eyes, usually so full of life, seemed dull and distant as he observed the carefree children ying under their parents'' loving gazes.

    After what felt like an eternity, he let out a deep, weary sigh that seemed toe from the very depths of his soul. With the weight of the something unknown on his young shoulders, he turned away from the window and fell back onto his unmade bed, pulling the slightly musty covers over his head to shut out the world.

    The room, bathed in that soft pink glow of twilight, was in a state of disarray that would have horrified Harry''s fussy Aunt Petunia. It was filled with an varied collection of items that would seem wildly out of ce in any ordinary Muggle child''s bedroom. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment, leather-bound books, and a hint of something distinctly magical ¨C abination of herbs, potions, and the lingering aroma of owl treats.

    At the foot of Harry''s bed sat an enormous, battered wooden trunk. Its lid gaped open like the maw of some fantastic beast, revealing a chaotic jumble of objects that would bewilder any non-magical person who happened to peek inside. Gleaming brass cauldrons of various sizes nestled alongside sleek, polished broomsticks that seemed to hum with barely contained energy. Neatly folded ck robes, adorned with the proud Gryffindor crest,y atop a pile of leather-bound spell books with titles like "Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3" and "The Monster Book of Monsters" (which was mercifully belted shut).

    On the rickety desk by the window stood an empty birdcage, its door swinging slightly in the breeze from the partially open window. This was where Harry''s beloved snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched when she wasn''t out hunting or delivering messages. The remaining desk space was cluttered with several rolls of yellowed parchment, quills with nibs stained with ink, and half-finished letters to friends. Crumpled balls of discarded parchment littered the floor around the desk, evidence of Harry''s frustrated attempts atmunication.

    An open booky face-down on the worn carpet beside the bed ¨C the one Harry had been engrossed in before finally sumbing to sleep the previous night. Its enchanted pages were alive with constantly moving illustrations: tiny figures d in vibrant orange robes zoomed back and forth on miniature broomsticks, passing a small red ball between them with incredible speed and precision.

    Indeed, Number Four, Privet Drive housed a young wizard ¨C a fact that would undoubtedly shock the well-to-do residents of this perfectly ordinary suburban street if they ever discovered it. The Dursleys, owners of the house and Harry''s reluctant guardians, would surely be mortified beyond belief if their neighbors ever learned they were harboring such a ''freak'' under their roof. One could easily imagine them packing up their belongings in the dead of night and fleeing in shame.

    But Harry, lying motionless under his covers, couldn''t have cared less about such trivial matters. It wasn''t as if he had wanted to return to this ce that had never truly been a home to him.

    Nearly a month had passed since Harry had been forced to return to the Dursleys for the summer holidays once again. Truthfully, these were usually his most miserable days of the year. This time, however, he wasn''t entirely sure if things had improved or worsened.

    In previous years, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never have allowed him to keep his "magical nonsense" in his room during the summer. The very sight of anything rted to the wizarding world would send them into a frenzy of fear and disgust.

    As soon as he crossed the threshold of Number Four, Privet Drive, they would confiscate everything connected to Hogwarts and lock it away in the cupboard under the stairs ¨C his former bedroom. They would only grudgingly return his belongings when it was time for him to go back to school, as if allowing him to touch them for even a moment longer than necessary might somehow contaminate their perfectly normal household.

    His current treatment was the result of intervention from Professor Watson and, more significantly, his godfather, Sirius ck. Sirius, in particr, had managed to effect a considerable change in the Dursleys'' attitude after having what Harry imagined must have been a rather intense conversation with them before the summer began. The memory of that encounter still brought a small smile to Harry''s face, despite his current mncholy.

    They certainly didn''t mistreat him anymore, at least not in any tangible, material way.

    Aunt Petunia no longer rapped sharply on his door at the crack of dawn, shrilly demanding that he get up and cook breakfast for everyone. After lunch, when the Dursleys sprawled on their overcrowded sofa, eyes glued to the television, Harry wasn''t left alone in the kitchen to wash a mountain of greasy dishes while the sound of cannedughter drifted in from the living room. Uncle Vernon had ceased his daily morning ritual of shouting at Harry to tidy his eternally messy hair. Even Dudley, Harry''s baby whale of a cousin, no longery in wait around corners, ready to trip him on the stairs for his own twisted amusement.

    This summer holiday was, on the surface, unprecedentedly leisurely for Harry.

    He didn''t have to perform any of the endless list of chores that had once filled his days, yet he still got to eat food that was not only edible but actually quite delicious ¨C even better than what the forever dieting Dudley was allowed to consume. Gone were the days of surviving on stale bread and cold soup pushed through the cat p in his bedroom door.

    However, this newfound freedom came at a price that Harry hadn''t anticipated. The only real issue ¨C and it was a significant one ¨C was that the Dursleys now treated him as if he didn''t exist at all. In the past, they had only pretended he wasn''t there when other people were around.

    Throughout the entire summer, they had barely spoken a word to him.

    Aunt Petunia would silently collect his dirtyundry when he was out for a walk, leaving clean, folded clothes outside his door without so much as a knock. If he didn''te down at mealtimes, Uncle Vernon would leave a te of food outside his door, knock once, and leave. As for Dudley, he would immediately fall silent and pretend nothing was happening whenever Harry entered his line of sight, regardless of what he had been doing before.

    The abrupt end of whatever thing Dudley had been doing¨C be it loudlyining about his diet or ying video games at full volume ¨C only served to highlight Harry''s unwee presence even more.

    In the past, Harry would have been thrilled if the Dursleys had treated him this way. He had spent countless nights in his cupboard, wishing eagerly that they would just leave him alone. But now that his wish hade true, he had to admit he somewhat missed how things used to be. At least then, even in their cruelty and neglect, the Dursleys had acknowledged his existence.

    Their current behavior left him feeling like a ghost haunting the halls of Number Four, Privet Drive ¨C present, but unseen and unheard.

    He had written to Ron and Hermione about all this, pouring out his conflicted feelings onto parchment in the hope that his friends might offer somefort or advice. Unsurprisingly, they were both outraged on his behalf. In his reply, scrawled in his characteristic messy handwriting, Ron said that he would tell his father about the situation so that Mr. Weasley coulde and immediately rescue Harry from the cold indifference of the Dursleys.

    Harry''s heart had leapt at the idea, a surge of hope flooding through him at the thought of escaping to the warm, chaotic embrace of the Weasley family. But after careful consideration, weighing the pros and cons as Hermione would have urged him to do, he still refused Ron''s well-intentioned offer.

    It wasn''t because the Weasleys weren''t kind enough to him ¨C far from it. If he could have parents like Ron''s, Harry would have given everything he possessed in exchange without a second thought. The Weasleys had shown him more love and eptance in the short time he had known them than the Dursleys had in over a decade of raising him. The problem was... he wasn''t without family now, at least not in the way he had been before.

    Sirius was his godfather, a living link to the parents he had lost and the life he might have had.

    Before the summer holidays, Sirius had promised toe and pick him from the Dursleys as soon as he finished handling some urgent business. Harry thought it would be best not to leave on his own, not wanting toplicate matters or potentially put Sirius in a difficult position. He also didn''t like the thought of Mrs. Weasley standing in her kitchen, hands on hips, loudlyining about Sirius neglecting his responsibilities if she found out about Harry''s current situation.

    Thinking of Sirius, Harry let out another heavy sigh under the covers, the sound muffled by the thick fabric. He emerged from his cocoon, hair even messier than usual, and sat up in bed, his mind racing with worried thoughts.

    In the first few days of the summer holidays, Sirius had sent him two letters in reply to Harry''s eager letters. He had exined that he was dealing with certain sensitive matters along with Professor Watson and, if all went ording to n, he would be back to pick Harry up in two weeks at thetest. But after that, Harry heard nothing more from Sirius.

    All the letters Harry had sent with Hedwig in the next weeks were returned unopened, a clear indication that she couldn''t find Sirius.

    This was highly unusual and deeply concerning. Hedwig was an exceptionally intelligent owl who had always managed toplete her tasks for Harry with absolute uracy. She had never failed repeatedly like this before, which made Harry increasingly anxious about the safety of both Sirius and Professor Watson.

    Hermione, had suggested writing to Dumbledore about the situation. Her neat, precise handwriting had outlined a logical argument for involving the Headmaster, mentioning his vast magical knowledge and extensivework of contacts. But Harry hadn''t followed her advice, and his reasons were two.

    On one hand, he thought Sirius and Professor Watson might simply be too far away for Hedwig to reach. Perhaps they were on some secret mission that required them to be undetectable, even to magical means ofmunication. Contacting Dumbledore over this seemed like an overreaction, and Harry was reluctant to bother him with what might turn out to be a trivial concern.

    On the other hand, Ron had raised a valid point in one of his letters: if there was a problem so severe that both Professor Watson and Sirius couldn''t handle together, then even Dumbledore might not be able to help much.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    The sudden, jarring sound of a door mming shut downstairs made Harry, who had been listening intently to every little sound in the house, jump out of bed.

    He rushed out of his room like a whirlwind, taking the stairs three at a time in his haste to reach the ground floor. His bare feet barely touched the steps as he descended, one hand trailing along the banister to keep his bnce. In moments, he found himself standing alone in the dim living room, surrounded by the oppressive silence that had be all too familiar.

    Ignoring the enticing aroma of the steaming dinnerid out on the dining table, Harry''s eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of the Dursleys. The house felt emptier than usual, the silence deeper. It didn''t take long for him to reach the obvious conclusion: the Dursleys had gone out.

    In the past, they would often leave him at home when they went out, treating him more like an unwanted pet than a family member. But at least then they''d give him some brief warnings first ¨C not to turn on the TV lest he enjoy himself too much, not to steal food from the fridge even if he was hungry, not to enter their rooms under any circumstances. They''d also briefly, grudgingly tell him where they were going. But now, true to their new policy of pretending he didn''t exist, they had left without a word, though they had at least been thoughtful enough to prepare his dinner before departing.

    Just as Harry was about to go back to his room, resigned to another lonely evening, he noticed a small piece of paper on the coffee table. With a quick leap that would have made his Quidditch captain proud, he jumped over the sofa and snatched up the note.

    It was a hastily scribbled message from Aunt Petunia:

    "Marge hase to see us and Dudley. We''re taking her out for dinner. Knowing you don''t like her; we didn''t invite you. Your dinner is on the table. Leave the dirty dishes; we''ll deal with them when we return."

    "To hell with you!" Harry snarled; his face ashen. His hands trembled as he gripped the note, knuckles white with barely suppressed rage. For a moment, he fought the overwhelming urge to draw his wand and set the entire house aze, consequences be damned. It was only the memory of his previous close call with expulsion from Hogwarts that stayed his hand.

    Instead, he crumpled the note into a tight ball, pouring all his frustration and resentment into the action. With a cry of anguish that seemed to echo through the empty house, he hurled the paper to the floor as hard as he could. It bounced once before rolling under the sofa, out of sight but not out of mind.

    Harry stood there for a long moment, chest heaving, as he tried to regain control of his emotions.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0387 Harryâ€™s Predicament

    0387 Harry¡¯s Predicament

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    The sound of the mming door still echoed in Harry''s ears as he climbed back up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than thest. Five minutester, he found himself once again in the confines of his small, messy room. The fading daylight cast long shadows across the floor, creating an atmosphere of gloom that perfectly matched Harry''s mood.

    Facing the slightly tarnished mirror embedded in his battered wardrobe, Harry saw a dejected, frustrated face staring back at him. His normally vibrant green eyes, so like his mother''s, were dull with disappointment and barely suppressed anger.

    As he stood there, scrutinizing his reflection, Harry had to admit that he had been naive. He had thought things would be simple, that Sirius''s warning would make life with the Dursleys a bit morefortable. It was why he hadn''t refused when Sirius had proposed this n. Now, it seemed Sirius''s warning wasn''t ineffective¡ªbut surprisingly, it had been too effective, yielding results far beyond what either of them had anticipated.

    In a sudden burst of frustration, Harry kicked the trunk at the foot of his bed. The solid thud of his bare foot against the worn wood was satisfying for a brief moment, but it did little to alleviate the ache in his heart. With a groan of despair, he flung himself onto his bed, burying his face in the slightly musty nkets.

    As hey there, face pressed into the fabric, Harry realized with a sinking feeling that he had overestimated himself. He had always hoped that when living with the Dursleys, it would be best if they could leave each other alone. Now that he had finally gotten his wish, he''d rather spend an entire summer without anyone to talk to.

    Suddenly, Harry began to go crazy on the bed. He pounded the mattress like a madman, his fists connecting with the worn springs again and again, making strange noises.

    As his energy began to wane, Harry''s mind raced, searching for solutions to his predicament. The best solution, he thought, would be for Sirius to appear immediately out of thin air like the wizard he was, and whisk him away from this house. That would indeed solve the immediate problem. But what about the next three summers? ording to Sirius, he had to return to the Dursleys for some time each summer until he graduated from Hogwarts.

    For a brief, desperate moment, another idea shed through Harry''s mind. Should he swallow his pride, apologize to the Dursleys, and tell them Sirius had just yed a cruel joke? That his godfather was actually innocent, and there was no need to fear vengeance from a supposedly deranged wizard?

    He rubbed his face hard against the sheets, forcefully ejecting the second idea from his mind. Reconcile with the Dursleys? Just thinking about it made Harry feel humiliated, a hot flush of shame creeping up his neck.

    <em>''No, there had to be another way.''</em>

    After Hedwig returns from hertest search for Sirius, Harry decided he would write a letter to Ron, asking if Mr. Weasley could take him away from this house earlier than nned. Ron had always suggested this, his letters filled with enthusiastic ns for rescuing Harry from his Muggle prison. But Harry, feeling bound by his promise to Sirius and not wanting to be a burden, had always refused this tempting offer. Now, however, the idea of escaping to the warmth and chaos of the Burrow seemed like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man.

    As day faded into night, the pink glow that had filled the room gradually dissipated, reced by deepening shadows. Darkness crept up from the corners, silently upying the room like an unwee guest.

    Despite the tantalizing aroma of dinner still wafting up from downstairs, Harry found he had no appetite. The thought of sitting alone at the kitchen table, surrounded by the echoing silence of the empty house, was more than he could bear. Instead, he tossed and turned in bed for what felt like hours, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Gradually, his consciousness began to blur.

    At one point, Harry thought he heard the sound of the Dursleys opening the front door, their muffled voices drifting up the stairs. But Harry, ovee with physical and emotional exhaustion, couldn''t muster the energy to get up and investigate. He kept pondering hazily whether he should leave the Dursleys early, reasoning that given the current situation, they''d probably be d to see him go.

    As the crescent moon rose high in the inky sky, casting a silvery glow through the gaps in Harry''s curtains, the frustration etched on his face began to smooth out. His inner conflict, which had been raging like a tempest, slowly subsided into a dull ache. Just as he was about to drift off into sleep, Harry suddenly heard muffled voices that were obviously not from the Dursleys. Moreover, there were some vague images appearing before his eyes, strange and shifting like smoke in the wind.

    <em>''Am I dreaming?''</em>

    Harry, retaining only a shred of consciousness, wondered groggily. A mysterious urgency welled up inside him, an inexplicable desire to see clearly what those flickering images meant. Surprisingly, when he focused on this thought, the images actually became clearer, though they still swayed and rippled like reflections in a disturbed pond.

    Intrigued and wanting to pass the time before falling asleep fully, Harry focused on those images with all the concentration he could muster. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, his consciousness sank deeper into the vision unfolding before him.

    To be honest, Frank Bryce from Little Hangleton vige and old John from the Shend Inds did resemble each other quite a bit,

    They were both veteran soldiers who had survived brutal wars, their bodies bearing the scars of battles long past. One guarded the once-grand Riddle House for life. The other spent his remaining years with a forgotten lighthouse.

    And both their fates, unbeknownst to them, were about to change dramatically in July of 1994.

    The weather had been decenttely in Little Hangleton, the summer air warm and fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. But the dampness that lingered in the soil still aggravated Frank''s bad leg, which had be increasingly sensitive and fragile with age. On this particr night, it protested vehemently, sending sharp bolts of pain up his thigh and into his lower back.

    Frank had been battling this bad leg for half his life, a constantpanion that reminded him daily of the sacrifices he had made for his country. He was well-versed in handling such situations over the years.

    So, he knew endurance alone wouldn''t suffice; he had to do something about it.

    Grumbling under his breath, Frank rubbed his eyes and slowly, painfully, got out of bed. The floorboards creaked beneath his feet as he made his way barefoot down the narrow staircase to the kitchen. His destination was clear: the kettle on the stove, which would soon be filled and heating water for his trusty hot water bottle.

    As he stood by the sink, listening to the metallic plink of water filling the kettle, Frank''s gaze instinctively drifted upward, out the small kitchen window. His eyes settled on the looming silhouette of the Riddle House, the mansion he had guarded vigntly for half his life.

    There, on the second floor, a faint light flickered, barely perceptible but unmistakable to Frank''s keen eyes. The soft, wavering glow was out of ce in the abandoned mansion. His mind, still sharp despite his advancing years, quickly concluded that it must be those restless vige boysing to cause trouble again.

    Although it had been many years since he''d set foot inside the Riddle House, Frank still remembered every creaky floorboard, every dusty corner of the ce. Without a second thought, he abandoned his quest for pain relief and set out to investigate. He entered through the back door into the cave-like dark kitchen, trying his best not to make a sound so he could catch them red-handedter.

    If he didn''t see them with his own eyes, Frank knew, those naughty boys would probably use him of being a bit crazy, just like the vigers did.

    Because of therge floor-to-ceiling windows on either side of the front door, there was some light in the corridor filled with the smell of decay, making it a bit easier for him to climb the dusty stone steps to the second floor.

    On thending, Frank paused for a moment, listening intently. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint creaking of the old house settling. Then, a flicker of movement caught his eye. He turned right; his gaze immediately drawn to the end of the long corridor. There, a door stood slightly ajar, with a wavering orange glow spilling out into the hallway.

    Frank crept along the wall; each step carefully ced to avoid the squeaky floorboards he knew so well. His knotted hands tightly gripped his walking stick, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary. The thought of knocking those troublemakers on their heads brought a grim smile to his old face.

    When he was just a few steps from the doorway, Frank could see a narrow slice of the room through the crack. The flickering light that had caught his attention from outside now revealed itself to being from a fire in the hearth. This surprised him greatly; even the most daring of vige youths rarely went so far as to light fires in the abandoned house. Moreover, it was hardly the weather for it. A sense of unease began to creep over him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

    Frank stopped in his tracks, every muscle tense as he strained his ears. Suddenly, a clear voice broke the silence, emanating from behind the partially open door. It was a rather t tone, but Frank, with his rich life experience, could detect a hint of restrained disgust lurking beneath the surface.

    "Drink it quickly, it won''tst long¡ª"

    Before Frank could process this strange statement, another voice responded, "Ah, thank you¡ª"

    This second voice belonged to a man, that much was clear. Though he was expressing gratitude, his voice was oddly high-pitched, almost childlike in its timbre. Yet there was no warmth in the tone; instead, it was as cold and biting as a winter wind, sending an involuntary shiver down Frank''s spine.

    Frank hadpletely forgotten about his original suspicions of troublemaking youths. This was something else entirely, something that made his veteran soldier''s instincts scream danger. He instinctively moved closer to the door, his curiosity overriding his caution.

    A series of gulping sounds reached his ears, loud and greedy. The satisfying noise reminded Frank of his days in the army, when he and hisrades would guzzle beer after surviving a particrly harrowing battle. But there was something off about these sounds, something almost... inhuman.

    "Marvelous," the high-pitched voice spoke again, a note of satisfaction clear in its tone. "It feels marvelous every time¡ª"

    The man seemed to be praising whatever he had just consumed, but for some inexplicable reason, Frank suddenly felt that the voice sounded more like the hissing of a vicious snake than human speech. The realization sent a chill down his spine, making him question whether he was truly awake or trapped in some bizarre nightmare.

    "I never imagined," the voice continued, a hint of wonder creeping into its tones, "that the nts people mostly overlook contained such wonderful vitality, almostparable to unicorn blood. Ah, it seems I indeed overlooked many things in the past, didn''t I? That''s why I paid such a terrible price."

    <em>''Unicorn blood?''</em>

    Frank''s grizzled eyebrows twitched in confusion and disbelief. He was certain he must have misheard the word. Unicorns were creatures of fairy tales, not something to be discussed in hushed tones in an abandoned mansion. Desperate to make sense of what he was hearing, Frank pressed his ear closer to the crack, straining to catch every word.

    For several agonizing seconds, there was no sound from the room. The owner of the clear voice that had spoken first seemed unwilling or unable to respond to the man''s strange words. The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire and Frank''s own shallow breathing.

    Unable to resist any longer, Frank carefully positioned his eye at the crack in the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious upants. To his frustration, he could only see shadows flickering on the far wall, apparently belonging to the person with the clearer voice. The man who had been speaking sat in a high-backed armchair facing the firece,pletely obscured from Frank''s view.

    Just as Frank was considering whether to risk pushing the door open a bit further, the high-pitched voice spoke again. "Would you kindly feed the rest to Nagini?" it asked, a note ofmand underlying the polite words. "I imagine she''s as famished as I am after our bumpy journey. Ah, of course, I''m not using you of inadequate care, but I''m sure you understand that I''m not what I used to be..."

    The words trailed off, leaving Frank with more questions than answers. Who was Nagini? What exactly had they been drinking? And most importantly, who were these strange intruders, speaking of unicorns and mysterious creatures as if such things weremonce?

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0388 Destiny?

    0388 Destiny?

    The oppressive silence in the dimly lit room hung heavy in the air, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire. The youngdy stood motionless; her emerald eyes fixed on the grotesque figure before her.

    After what seemed like an eternity, the silence was finally broken by her clear, measured voice. "You''re recovering well, Mr. Dark Lord, If you''re willing to remain in the forest for a bit longer, you might soon regain a healthy body."

    Outside the door, Frank Bryce''s old face contorted in confusion. This brief exchange had opened up a whole new world of bewilderment for the elderly caretaker. Someone had actually chosen to call themselves ''Dark Lord''? The absurdity of it struck Frank, his mind reeling as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. What kind of person would adopt such an ominous, theatrical title?

    Frank had a premonition that he was involved in a bizarre incident. The man and woman in the house before him were clearly notw-abiding citizens.

    Inside the room, the figure known as the Dark Lord stirred in his chair. When he spoke, his high-pitched voice wasced with an emotion that had been absent before.

    "A healthy body, yes, yes¡ª" he pondered, the words dripping with longing. For the first time since Frank had begun eavesdropping, he could detect a hint of normal, human feeling in that unsettling voice.

    The Dark Lord continued, his tone bing more energetic. "I must admit, I never imagined I would recover in this way. Yes, with just a little more patience, I can regain my original powers. How wonderful. But¡ª"

    But then, the warmth vanished from the Dark Lord''s voice. His tone shifted dramatically, bing cold and sharp.

    "I think you also know, Miss Cliodna, that the forest is no longer safe. The Ministry''s people could appear there at any time."

    There was another pause, and when the Dark Lord spoke again, his voice had taken on an almost appeasing tone. "Ah¡ªI trust you, Miss Cliodna. Those rabble would be no match for you, but before I regain all my powers, it''s beneficial for us to keep a low profile¡ª"

    Frank strained his ears, trying to catch every word of this bizarre conversation. His mind was whirling with questions. Ministry? Powers? What on earth were these people involved in?

    Cliodna''s response cut through Frank''s thoughts like a knife. "If you hadn''t insisted on killing that woman, Bertha Jorkins¡ª"

    Her words, though spoken in the same cold voice, carried a trace of barely suppressed anger.

    Frank felt his blood run cold.

    A murder!

    They were discussing a murder as casually as one might discuss the weather!

    His aged heart began to race, pumping adrenaline through his veins. The name Bertha Jorkins meant nothing to him, but the casual mention of her death sent waves of horror coursing through his body.

    Cliodna continued, her voice tight with restrained emotions. "Dealing with memories isn''t difficult for wizards, nor for us. Yet you still insisted on killing her¡ª I don''t mean to criticize your style of doing things, Mr. Dark Lord, but your actions undoubtedly puts us in danger."

    The tension in the room was palpable now, so thick Frank could almost taste it. He found himself holding his breath, certain that at any moment, these two killers would turn on each other.

    After another nauseating silence, just as Frank had decided to leave the old house to warn the vigers, the man who always had his back to him spoke again.

    "Dealing with memories. Yes, you did suggest that, Miss Cliodna. But I remember exining to you¡ª"

    The Dark Lord said coldly, "Altering memories isn''t a foolproof method. If we encounter a powerful wizard, the memory charm won''t work. This was confirmed when I interrogated her, wasn''t it?"

    Frank''s confusion grew with each passing moment. Talk of wizards, memory charms - it was as if he had stumbled into some bizarre fantasy novel.

    The Dark Lord''s voice softened slightly, taking on an almost persuading tone. "We''re allies who have gained each other''s trust, aren''t we, Miss Cliodna? You followed your predecessors'' instructions to find me, hoping I could help you out of your predicament. And I, at my lowest point, have no one but you to rely on. We''re mutually supportive allies, so we should be honest with each other." His voice hardened again as he added, "You''ve never approved of the n I feltpelled to execute to regain my strength, have you?"

    The room fell silent once more, Cliodna apparently unwilling or unable to respond. The Dark Lord, undeterred by her silence, continued his monologue.

    "I have my reasons for using that boy. I''ve expressed my firm resolve to you, Miss Cliodna. I won''t use anyone else. I''ve waited thirteen years; a few more months won''t matter. As for the boy being under strict protection, I believe my n will work. By then, I will have no weaknesses, and you will be on the verge of ending centuries of wandering fate."

    As Frank listened, his mind spinning from the implications of what he was hearing, the scene inside the room shifted.

    The woman in the room was Cliodna, the current priestess of the Druids, whom Bryan had been searching for without any news for a year.

    Compared to a year ago, Cliodna hadn''t changed much. Only when facing this notorious Dark Lord of the wizarding world did her usually gentle demeanor disappear. Her emerald eyes remained vignt, and her floating strands of green hair in the still air proved that her power was always controlled to use when necessary.

    "Mr. Dark Lord¡ª" Cliodna began lowering her gaze, unable or unwilling to look directly at the misshapen creature curled up in the chair before her. A wave of regret washed over her, not for the first time in the past year. How many times had she cursed her impulsive decision to seek out this monster, even if it had been at the directive of the Twin-Serpent Staff and the instructions of her predecessors?

    The bitter irony of her situation was not lost on her. If the Druids truly needed to rely on a wizard''s power to escape their predicament, there were countless more suitable candidates. Yet here she stood, allied with arguably the worst possible choice - a wizard whose very existence seemed to be an insult to the life-revering principles of the Druids.

    "We are not wizards," Cliodna continued, her voice barely above a whisper, "but we are well aware of what Harry Potter means to the wizarding world. You want to use him, even at the risk of angering Albus Dumbledore."

    The Dark Lord''s response was immediate and defensive, his high-pitched voice taking on a grumpy tone. "Dumbledore is just a muddle-headed old man. He''s not what he used to be¡ª"

    Even Frank, who didn''t understand the situation, could hear that the Dark Lord seemed to be a little afraid of the person called Albus Dumbledore. His rebuttal carried a trace of humiliation, as if he were trying to convince himself as much as Cliodna.

    The faint firelight from the firece reflected on Cliodna''s cheeks, casting a beautiful silhouette on the worm-eaten, pitted wooden floor.

    The Dark Lord... or rather, Voldemort¡ª

    Everything about him went against the principles she held dear. The Druids, with their deep respect for life and reverence for nature, would never willingly associate with such a monster. Yet here she was, bound to him by the twisted threads of fate.

    "Even so¡ª"

    Cliodna knew she couldn''t persuade the evil wizard before her, but she still hoped he could maintain some sanity.

    Her long eyshes trembled slightly, showing her exhaustion and inner turmoil. "There is more than just Albus Dumbledore in Hogwarts,"

    Apart from the creature before her who had desecrated life andpletely degenerated into a devil and monster, the wizard who hadnded to the Isle of Avalon with her was the most powerful and dangerous wizard Cliodna had ever met. To this day, Cliodna couldn''t forget the chilling anger in that person''s eyes in the central temple of the ind after she obtained the Twin-Serpent Staff.

    Bryan Watson.

    This man''s reputation had previously only shone in the wizarding underworld, but recently, his fame had gradually be known to the public.

    "Head of the Student Safety Office at Hogwarts, Bryan Watson¡ª" Cliodna continued, her voice tight with suppressed fear. "Mr. Dark Lord, you''ve seen the wizarding newspapers. He might be even more dangerous."

    If the person the Dark Lord feared was Albus Dumbledore, then Cliodna herself strived to avoid encountering Bryan Watson again. But she knew in her heart that since she chose to follow the prophecy left by her predecessors, this day would eventuallye.

    "Bryan Watson, ah, the young man who killed Greyback?"

    The Dark Lord was clearly amused. He spoke in an obviously joking tone,

    "Yes, yes, the Prophet said he single-handedly killed Fenrir and many of his followers. But Miss Cliodna, that''s hardly a difficult feat. I''d say it would be effortless for you too, wouldn''t it? Why should we worry about a clown propped up by Dumbledore?"

    Cliodna''s bright eyes flickered with barely suppressed frustration. She knew further argument was futile and chose to remain silent, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval.

    Voldemort knew he hadn''t convinced the young Druid girl, but he didn''t care at all. As long as she continued to obey his orders, her personal feelings were irrelevant. In the depths of his twisted mind, he was already plotting her eventual punishment for her insolence towards the great Dark Lord. Of course, he wouldn''t kill her - not yet, at least. After all, Lord Voldemort rewarded those who provided assistance, even if that reward came with strings attached.

    His mind raced with visions of the future. Once Cliodna had been broken and remade in his image, once the wizarding worldy crushed beneath his feet, he would turn his attention to her persecutors. The Church, with its considerable influence in the Muggle world, would make an excellent target. Destroying such a powerful institution would also serve as a demonstration of Lord Voldemort''s supremacy, forcing the Muggle world to acknowledge his greatness.

    These grandiose ns swirled through Voldemort''s mind as a cold, cruel smile twisted his inhuman features. "I think I''ve convinced you, haven''t I, Miss Cliodna?" he said, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "Now, before we rest, let''s entertain tonight''s mysterious guest¡ª"

    <em>''Mysterious guest?''</em>

    Frank''s brain froze for a moment. In the next instant, many things happened.

    The high-backed armchair creaked as its upant stirred, and for the first time, Frank caught a glimpse of the being called the Dark Lord.

    The sight that met his eyes was beyond anything Frank could have imagined in his worst nightmares. The creature that emerged from behind the chair was barely recognizable as human. Its body was twisted and misshapen, more reminiscent of some unholy hybrid between man and serpent than any natural being. The strong visual impact of this grotesque figure was too much for Frank''s frail constitution. His vision cked out for a moment, as his mind reeled from the horror before him.

    "Nagini!" The Dark Lord''s high-pitched voice rang out, filled with a mixture of anticipation and malice.

    Almost simultaneously, Cliodna''s voice cut through the air, "Don''t harm any more innocent lives!"

    In the chaos that followed, emerald mist erupted from Cliodna''s outstretched hands, colliding with a sickly green light that burst forth from the Dark Lord''s misshapen form. The collision of these two powerful forces created a blinding sh that pierced through Frank''s drooping eyelids, burning his retinas as consciousness slipped away from him. Frank had no time to dwell on the strange sentences he had heard as hepletely lost consciousness.

    Meanwhile, two hundred miles away.

    In the bedroom at 4 Privet Drive, Harry, his forehead covered in cold sweat, jolted awake from his dream.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0389 Rising Storms

    0389 Rising Storms

    Harryy t on his back, panting heavily as if he had just finished a grueling 30-minute run in physical education ss. He had awakened from an incredibly vivid dream, his hands pressed tightly against his face. Beneath his fingers, the lightning-shaped scar burned fiercely, as if someone had pressed a white-hot wire against his skin.

    With a groan of difort, Harry forced himself into a sitting position.One hand remained glued to his throbbing scar, while the other fumbled clumsily in the darkness, searching for his sses which had been knocked off by the bedding. Putting them on, his bedroom gradually came into focus.

    Judging by the moonlight filtering through the curtains, it was well past midnight. Listening intently for a moment, Harry confirmed that the Dursleys had returned home; he could hear Dudley''s thunderous snoring.

    Harry stroked the scar with his fingers again which still throbbed painfully. He switched on the bedsidemp and noticed that Hedwig, who had gone out earlier in the evening to forage for food, had returned and was now sleeping soundly in her cage.

    Harry noticed with a pang of disappointment that her ws were empty, and a quick nce at his desk confirmed that there were no new letters or packages waiting for him. The absence of anymunication from Sirius, weighed heavily on Harry''s heart, but he pushed the feeling aside, forcing himself to focus on the more pressing matter at hand ¨C the disturbing dream that had woken him so violently.

    Harry closed his eyes, pressing his palms against his eyelids as he struggled to recall the details of the nightmare. Everything had seemed so real, so vivid ¨C it was as if he had been there in person.

    In his mind''s eye, a dim, shadowy room began to materialize, its edges blurred and indistinct like a half-remembered photograph.

    The most striking aspect of the dream, the element that sent shivers down Harry''s spine even now, was the voice ¨C <strong>Voldemort''s voice.</strong>

    Despite not having heard it in over two years, Harry recognized it instantly. The high, cold tones were etched permanently into his memory. Even now, just the thought of his first-year confrontation with Quirrell and the parasitic, shapeless Voldemort in the dungeon ssroom was enough to send a chill through Harry''s stomach.

    He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to remember Voldemort''s appearance in the dream, but to no avail. Harry only knew that when Voldemort''s chair turned around and his gaze fell upon it, he was gripped by an overwhelming fear that jolted him awake. Perhaps it was because his scar had suddenly red with pain?

    There was a young woman in the room. Harry couldn''t confirm who she was, but her name and appearance were like fine sand in his hand. The more he wanted to hold it tightly, the faster it slipped through his fingers. In the end, Harry could only vaguely recall that the young woman was strikingly beautiful and had aforting presence.

    How strange!

    If the dream truly reflected some truth, how could someone so seemingly benevolent be associated with a monster like Voldemort?

    And then there was the old man.

    His appearance in the dream had been brief; Harry only saw him fall in a sh of green light. If the old man had encountered the real Voldemort, Harry was almost certain of his fate.

    There was a conversation in the dream, but Harry couldn''t remember it clearly either.

    He only recalled that his name seemed to have been mentioned, and that Voldemort appeared to be nning something involving him. This didn''t require much guesswork - what else could Voldemort be plotting other than to kill him?

    So, was what he had seen real or not?

    Harry stood up from the bed. He pulled back the curtains and gazed down at the clean, quiet street bathed in the warm glow of streetlights, gently rubbing his scar.

    Thest time his scar had hurt was when Voldemort was nearby, and this realization unsettled Harry. His vignt gaze swept the street. Could Voldemort be lurking on Privet Drive? The idea seemed too absurd to be possible.

    Well, now was the time to seriously consider what to do.

    Even though Harry didn''t want to appear particrly weak or liked to make a fuss, he clearly understood that anything rted to Voldemort couldn''t be taken lightly.

    Turning away from the window, Harry began to pace around his small room, his eyes half-closed in concentration as he weighed his options.

    The calendar on his wall served as a stark reminder that it was stillte July, with just over a month left before the new school year began at Hogwarts. If he waited until then to report this incident, it might be far toote to prevent whatever Voldemort was nning. But if not then, when? And more importantly, who should he tell?

    Harry''s gaze fell upon his desk, where two birthday cardsy propped up against a stack of textbooks. They had been sent early by Hermione and Ron, even though his birthday was still a few days away. The sight of the cards sparked a thought in Harry''s mind ¨C ''<em>what advice would Hermione give if she were here?''</em>

    "Your scar hurts? Harry, that''s no ordinary matter! You should write to Dumbledore or Professor Watson immediately; they will definitely give you some advice! I''ll go check ''Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions'' right away... perhaps it mentions something about curse scars..."

    <em>''Yes, that''s exactly what Hermione would suggest</em>''. Harry could almost hear her flustered voice.

    But honestly, Harry didn''t believe any book could provide a clear exnation for the connection between him and Voldemort. Even those directly involved ¨C Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Watson, perhaps even Voldemort himself like him¨C couldn''t fully understand the connection between them.

    The thought of contacting Professor Dumbledore flitted through Harry''s mind, lingering for several long seconds before he decisively discarded it. As much as he respected and trusted the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the idea of approaching him solely because of a painful scar and a bad dream seemed... well, childish. Dumbledore had far more important matters to attend to than the nightmares of a fourteen-year-old boy, no matter how famous that boy might be.

    <em>''What about Professor Watson, then?''</em>

    Harry was certain that he would take his letter seriously, treating it with the seriousness it deserved rather than dismissing it as the overreaction of an attention-seeking teenager.

    And yet, Harry found himself reluctant to write to him. The memory ofst summer, when one of his letters had prompted Professor Watson to visit Privet Drive, was still fresh in his mind. During that visit, they had even witnessed the passing of Professor Watson''s father together.

    The thought of disturbing Professor Watson''s peace every summer with his problems filled Harry with a sense of guilt and unease.

    That left only one option: Sirius.

    The thought of his godfather brought a mixture of emotions ¨C hope, affection, and a twinge of worry. Sirius was not only an experienced adult wizard but also someone who genuinely cared about Harry''s wellbeing. He wouldn''t brush off Harry''s concerns or treat them as trivial.

    With a heavy sigh, Harry sank into the chair at his desk, his expression clouded with hesitancy. Consulting Sirius did seem like the best course of action as he was also with Professor Watson, and If Sirius couldn''t provide an exnation, he could always ask the knowledgeable Professor Watson for advice.

    There was, however, one significant problem: both Sirius and Professor Watson had vanished without a trace. Hedwig, despite her best efforts, had been unable to locate Sirius on her previous attempts to deliver messages.

    For what felt like hours, Harry sat at his desk, his face alternating between various expressions. Finally, he picked up his quill and scribbled a few lines on a piece of parchment he had pulled from his trunk.

    As he finished writing, Harry turned his attention to Hedwig. The snowy owl was still fast asleep, her head tucked beneath her wing. Harry felt a pang of guilt as he approached her cage.

    Gently, Harry reached out to stroke Hedwig''s soft feathers. "Hedwig," he whispered, "I need you to wake up. It''s important."

    Hedwig''s amber eyes snapped open, fixing Harry with a reproachful re. Before he could react, she had lunged forward, her sharp beak catching his finger in a painful nip. She hooted indignantly, her eyes full of me and irritation at being woken up from her sleep.

    "I''m sorry, Hedwig--" Harry said apologetically, "I''m really sorry to disturb your rest, but this is a special situation. I need some guidance. It''s a letter for Sirius--"

    At the mention of Sirius''s name, Hedwig''s demeanor changed slightly. She tilted her head, looking at Harry with a mixture of curiosity and concern. She hooted softly, as if asking and telling something.

    Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy ck hair. "Please try again, Hedwig?" he pleaded. "Just one more time. It would be best if you could find him, but if not,e back as soon as possible. There''s another letter for Ron, too. If Sirius can''t be found for now, I hope to move to the Burrow as soon as possible."

    Hedwig considered him for a moment longer before extending her leg, allowing Harry to carefully attach the letters. With a soft, reassuring hoot, she nipped his finger gently ¨C this time in affection rather than reprimand ¨C and spread her magnificent wings.

    In a flutter of snowy feathers, Hedwig took flight, soaring out of the open window and into the night sky. Harry watched her go, her white form growing smaller and smaller until it was swallowed up by the darkness.

    "You must find him," Harry muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he stared out into the night.

    Miles away, on a vast expanse of rolling waves, another scene was unfolding.

    The deep sea, true to its nature, continued its relentless motion even in the absence of wind. Three-foot waves rose and fell in an endless rhythm, a testament to the raw power of the ocean.

    On the deck of a small fishing boat, two figures stood silhouetted against the night sky. Free from the light pollution that gued Muggle cities, the sky above them was a breathtaking canvas of otherworldly wonders.

    Billions of stars twinkled brightly, their light scattering across the surging surface of the water, transforming the sea into a mirror of the cosmos above.

    This was the final night of their third week at sea. And as expected, the journey to find Azkaban had been extremely difficult. They had no exact coordinates for the small ind, and their direction was based entirely on Sirius''s vague memories of the positions of stars.

    The initial excitement that had fueled them at the beginning of their quest had long since faded, worn away by the constant, monotonous sound of wavespping against the hull. Each starry night found Sirius sleepless and anxious, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scanned the sky, desperately seeking some familiar starryndmark that might guide them to their destination.

    Bryan, on the other hand, seemed to have settled into the journey with remarkable ease. He treated their time at sea as if it were an extended vacation, spending his days engrossed in thick tomes in the cabin or quietly thinking about some problems in a state of pseudo-sleep. In the evenings, he woulde out from the cabin to enjoy the cool sea breeze and fish leisurely.

    Their journey, whilergely uneventful, had not been without its moments of excitement and danger.

    On one particrly memorable asion, they had found themselves the target of a group of deep-sea sirens. These creatures, enraged that their enchanting songs had failed to lure the human fishing boat that had strayed into their territory, summoned their kin in a furious frenzy.

    The sirens had surrounded the small boat, their oddly-shaped bone spears ready to pierce the hull and send the two humans to a watery grave. The ensuing battle had been brief but intense, with Bryan and Sirius working in perfect sync to repel the attack. In the end, it was not the two wizards who found themselves destined to be fish food, but rather the sirens who retreated, nursing their wounds and their wounded pride.

    Now, as they stood on the deck under the vast expanse of the night sky, Sirius broke thefortable silence that had fallen between them.

    "How long have we been out here?"

    The sea stretched out before them, fully visible in the bright moonlight and starlight. Sirius squinted, his eyes straining against the darkness as he searched desperately for any reference point that might indicate they were on the right track. After a long moment of fruitless scanning, he licked his salt-crusted lips, tasting the bitter tang of the sea and his own growing frustration.

    Sirius hadn''t expected this journey to be smooth sailing. He had anticipated long days of drifting, of searching, of second-guessing their course. But the reality of their lost wanderings had far exceeded even his most pessimistic expectations.

    Before the summer holidays had begun, Sirius had promised Harry that he would quickly get him away from his Muggle aunt and uncle. But now, as the days stretched into weeks with no sign of Azkaban in sight, that promise seemed to mock him.

    "Twenty-one days--" Bryan, lying on a deck chair and admiring the boundless night sky, pondered for a moment before answering.

    And this answer made Sirius''s heart sink. Harry''s birthday was approaching in just a few days. This would be Harry''s first birthday since Sirius had escaped from Azkaban, and he had originally nned to help Harry celebrate it properly. Now it seemed that n would have to be scrapped.

    The night remained bright and cloudless. However, the humidity in the air gradually increased. Sirius, now practically a semi-professional sailor, immediately sensed that a storm was approaching.

    It was amon urrence at sea, he had learned. Often, everything would seem normal one moment, and then a downpour would begin the next. <em>*Grandline*</em>

    "Let''s head back to the cabin, Bryan--" Sirius shook his head, somewhat dejectedly. "I haven''t found any new leads, and it''s about to rain. Let''s hope old John''s boat can keep holding up--"

    With that, Sirius jumped down from the bow railing and turned towards the cabin. As he passed by Bryan, who had stood up, he noticed that Bryan was scanning the sea surface with a puzzled look, showing no intention of seeking shelter from the impending rain.

    "What''s wrong, Bryan?"

    Over the course of their three-week journey, the two men had discussed a wide range of topics. But as the days had worn on and their search had continued to yield no results, their conversations had be more infrequent, more direct and concise when they did ur. Now, faced with Bryan''s apparent distraction, Sirius found himself genuinely curious - and slightly concerned.

    Gazing at the increasingly high waves, Bryan''s expression seemed somewhat confused.

    "Hmm... it''s hard to say, but... something feels off."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0390 Perilous Voyage

    0390 Perilous Voyage

    There are no gentle breezes or light rains on the vast, unforgiving ocean - only fierce, howling winds that sweep everything in their merciless path and terrifying, mountainous waves that crash like deafening thunder. The sea, in its raw power and majesty, shows no mercy to those who dare to traverse its treacherous waters.

    Nearly a month into their sea voyage, Bryan and Sirius had already encountered several harrowing bouts of severe weather. However, each time they had weathered the violent storms safely under the protective shield of Bryan''s magic. So, when the once starry night sky rapidly disappeared behind ominous, roiling clouds and the sturdy ship began to tilt at increasingly steep and rming angles, Sirius felt neither panic nor surprise, his nerves having been tempered by their previous close calls.

    Bryan, on the other hand, stood rigidly at the cabin door, his expression grave and solemn as he gazed out at the howling, gloomy, and increasingly ominous world outside.

    "What''s wrong, Bryan?" Sirius asked with genuine concern, stumbling out of the cramped kitchen with a full ss of rich, red currant rum. He swayed unsteadily with the violent motion of the ship, struggling to maintain his bnce on the tilting deck. As he approached, he noticed Bryan leaning heavily against the sturdy doorframe, his brows furrowed in deep concentration.

    The storm clouds hung menacingly low in the sky, seeming almost within reach of the ship''s creaking mast.

    Bryan narrowed his eyes, which seemed to emit a faint purple glow in the oppressive darkness. He stared intently at the roiling ck clouds that appeared close enough to touch, and at the rough forks of lightning snaking ominously between theyers of the turbulent sky. The veins on his hand, gripping the door frame with intensity, gradually bulged with the strain of maintaining their magical defenses.

    "It''s just a rainstorm, nothing to worry about," Sirius said with a forced shrug, trying to sound nonchnt as he came to stand beside Bryan. He noticed the deep concern etched in Bryan''s eyes and tried to reassure him.

    "It doesn''t seem like it¡ª" Bryan said cautiously, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. "The magical energy is fluctuating wildly with the changes in the natural environment. The flow doesn''t seem unusual at first nce, but I have a terrible, gnawing feeling about this. Something is very wrong."

    Those who knew Bryan well were well aware that he wasn''t one to joke about serious matters or exaggerate dangers. Hearing the seriousness in his tone, Sirius slowly moved the ss away from his lips and wiped his wine-red mouth with the back of his hand. After a moment''s tense contemtion, he looked out at the raging tempest and said hesitantly,

    "You know, when I left the waters near Azkaban, I also encountered a storm. I only survived by going with the flow, letting the currents guide me."

    "I''ve read in some ancient records that there are certain mystical defensive measures surrounding Azkaban¡ª" Bryan said concisely, "These defenses are incredibly old, not left by the modern Ministry of Magic, but seem to have always been there, like naturally evolved, imprable barriers that cannot be easily crossed. That''s precisely why the Ministry feels so confident in imprisoning those exceptionally dangerous criminals there. But how did the Ministry manage to cross that tough barrier in the first ce, all those centuries ago?"

    As Bryan pondered this perplexing question, the rain grew exponentially heavier, massive droplets wrapped in howling windshing against the sturdy deck, sounding like hundreds of angry fists pounding relentlessly on the cabin''s exterior.

    "Maybe you''re overthinking it, Bryan," Sirius said, his face growing increasingly concerned despite his attempt at reassuring words. "Even if there is some ancient, powerful magic surrounding Azkaban, it can''t be truly insurmountable. Otherwise, how in Merlin''s name did I manage to escape? There must be weaknesses, gaps in the defenses."

    As he spoke, Sirius''s mood suddenly lifted, a spark of hope igniting in his eyes. He gazed eagerly at the towering waves that loomed menacingly above the ship, saying with a mixture of excitement and apprehension, "If we''re really within the range of these legendary magical defenses, Bryan, doesn''t that mean we''re very close to Azkaban? And here I was worried we might have taken a wrong turn and gotten hopelessly lost in this vast expanse of ocean!"

    "It''s far too early to celebrate¡ª" Bryan cautioned, gripping his wand tightly, his tone remaining solemn. "This storm isn''t natural; it seems to have traces of human intervention, of immensely powerful magic at work. However, the gathering and dispersal of magical energy is eerily normal. There is a more powerful force resisting our approach. Just because you managed to escape from Azkaban doesn''t mean we can simply invade from the outside, Sirius. Perhaps you were just incredibly luckyst time."

    Sirius was about to reply when¡ª

    <strong>CRASH!</strong>

    Their ship was suddenly pushed forward by a gale of terrible strength, and was struck broadside by a massive, towering wave. The impact lifted the entire vessel four or five stories high with tremendous force!

    Bryan''s expression changed dramatically, a mix of determination and barely concealed fear. With lightning-fast reflexes, he pointed his wand at the ship''s exterior and a brilliant purple light screen flowed from the tip of his wand like liquid starlight. The screen quickly attached itself to the ship''s battered wall and spread with astonishing rapidity.

    In the blink of an eye, the whole ship was enveloped in a shimmeringyer of protective purple energy. This magical barrier, pulsing with raw power, held the cabin suspended in mid-air, floating precariously above the frenzied, churning sea surface!

    <strong>CRACK!</strong>

    Perhaps angered that the giant wave had failed to break the cabin apart, the sea grew even more furious. The lightning dancing among the heavy dark clouds suddenly became more violent, more focused in its assault. As if wielded by the wrathful thunder god of ancient myths, bolts as thick as a man''s wrist illuminated the world with blinding shes before striking toward the ship''s roof with despairing, earth-shattering power.

    "Quick, dodge!" Sirius shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse with fear and adrenaline.

    <strong>WHOOSH¡ª</strong>

    Bryan immediately twirled his wand in an intricate pattern. Responding to his will, the ship abruptly shifted its position with impossible agility, narrowly avoiding a series of devastating lightning strikes that would have surely spelled their doom.

    The lightning plunged into the roiling sea with a deafening sizzle, seeming to transform the entire ocean into a vast, terrifying sea of electricva. Countless small electric arcs darted about like schools of bioluminescent fish, dyeing the dark sea surface a mesmerizing, deadly cyan color.

    The air crackled with ozone and raw magical energy.

    Although they had narrowly avoided this immediate crisis, neither Bryan nor Sirius looked even remotely relieved.

    In the stark, revealing light of the relentless lightning, Sirius finally saw clearly what they were truly facing, and the nightmarish sight defied everything he thought he knew about the sea and the limits of magic!

    They seemed to be trapped in the midst of an endless, ethereal mountain range, with towering, sentient waves forming peaks and valleys beneath their feet!

    The world around them trembled violently, the air was thick with an apocalyptic sense of impending doom. Cold sweat mixed withrge, stinging raindrops streamed down Sirius''s pale, haggard face as he shouted, his voice cracking with a mixture of awe and terror, "You''ve got to be bloody kidding me, Bryan! Did you actually foresee we''d encounter something like this?! This is beyond anything I''ve ever imagined!"

    It wasn''t just the asional lightning bolt they failed to dodge, or the gale and torrential rain that battered relentlessly against the magical barrier protecting the fragile cabin. There was also a strange, suffocating force that Sirius couldn''t quite sense, but Bryan, straining to maintain the weakening barrier, felt it deeply.

    The area shrouded in fierce winds, pouring rain, and deadly lightning seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. Sirius couldn''t imagine any wizard, no matter how powerful, capable of creating such a terrifying spectacle¡ªexcept perhaps the legendary Merlin!

    "The worst is yet toe¡ª" Bryan said, breathing heavily but still rtively calm.

    The existence of Avalon, had shown Bryan the full extent of ancient wizards''s power. Sirius was right¡ªbefore embarking on this journey, Bryan had anticipated they might encounter some impressive, even frightening phenomena. But even so, the sheer scale and intensity of this storm astonished him beyond measure. What troubled him most, however, was the pervasive, suffocating force he sensed all around them¡ªnot just raw magical power, but something on a higher, more terrifying level entirely:

    The overwhelming, crushing pressure of pure soul force!

    Sirius was utterly dumbfounded, too shocked and overwhelmed to speak.

    Bryan had already sensed it. He tried to steer the ship in one direction, but as they moved forward, the pressure on Bryan grew stronger. Fear began to grow uncontrobly in his heart. In a daze, Bryan seemed to see, hidden in the unknown darkness ahead, an ancient beast opening its ferocious, bloody maw, waiting for them to walk right into its trap!

    "There''s an old teapot on the table in my room. It''s a Portkey¡ª" Bryan said calmly, turning to look at the sweat-drenched Sirius.

    Another bolt of lightning struck the deck hard, causing Bryan''s barrier to shake violently, along with the creaking fishing boat beneath it.

    "I made that Portkey when we were at Old John''s ce, as a precaution. It can take you back there."

    "What in Merlin''s name do you mean, Bryan?" Sirius was stunned for a moment before regaining his senses. His eyes burned with intensity as he frowned deeply. "You expect me to run away like a coward? To abandon you here? That''s not my style, Bryan, and you bloody well know it!"

    Bryan sighed inwardly, speaking calmly but firmly. "I brought you along just to guide me, Sirius. It seems we''ve reached our destination. What remains is my personal secret. I don''t want anyone else involved, so¡ª"

    "Oh, spare me your pathetic lies!" Sirius interrupted loudly, his voice dripping with disgust and fierce determination. "You want to leave me behind and face this danger alone, don''t you? Well, let me tell you something, my friend¡ªnot a chance in hell. Since I brought you here, I''m responsible for getting you back too!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0391 The Confrontation

    0391 The Confrontation

    Bryan rolled his eyes dramatically, finding himself utterly speechless in the face of Sirius''s stubborn insistence.

    "Think about Harry, Sirius, He''s still waiting for you, counting on your return. At the very least, don''t you think you owe it to him to stay alive until hees of age? That''s the bare minimum of what a godfather should do, isn''t it?"

    "I''ve already exined this¡ª" Sirius gripped the doorframe and shouted, "Besides, I can''t just leave you alone here to face whatever dangers lie ahead! Harry likes you, and if you were to die here while I snuck away like a coward, I wouldn''t have the courage or the right to face Harry and Remus ever again! How could I look them in the eye knowing I''d abandoned you?"

    Bryan opened his mouth, ready to counter Sirius''s argument, but something in the air suddenly shifted. His expression changed in an instant, from frustration to alert concern. He only threw a quick "Stay put in the cabin" to Sirius before waving his wand to m the cabin door shut. In the next instant, his form became ethereal, and he materialized on the deck.

    ncing up at the roiling clouds, Bryan exhaled heavily.

    The scene before him was too exaggerated, surpassing anything Bryan had ever witnessed or imagined. Even though he had seen the floating ind of Avalon high in the sky before, this apocalyptic scene left him utterly speechless. The sheer magnitude of power on disy hadpletely transcended the limits of human capability, entering a realm so unfathomable it bordered on the divine.

    The sea before him, once a tranquil expanse of blue, now boiled like a massive cauldron of oil set over an infernal me. Illuminated by the near-constant shes of lightning that split the sky, a terrifying new development unfolded before the ship''s cabin, causing Bryan''s face to darken.

    The scattered hurricanes that had been raging across this world were gradually converging, drawn together by some strange, unseen force. They twisted and merged, forming massive tornadoes that reached from sea to sky. Simultaneously, whirlpools of epic proportions began to appear on the churning sea surface, each one resembling the legendary Charybdis from Greek mythology. These monstrous vortexes stretching for twenty to thirty miles in a row, erupted with astonishing suction power that constantly swallowed vast amounts of seawater and air.

    Even the dark clouds in the sky were not immune to this overwhelming force. The dense, rain-heavy clouds were pulled downward, stretching and distorting until they connected with the whirlpools on the sea surface. Lightning, rather than striking randomly, now clung to these rapidly approaching pirs of water that bridged the gap between sea and sky, creating a terrifying matrix of elemental fury.

    "It''s really a bit too exaggerated¡ª" Bryan murmured softly, his words nearly lost in the howling wind. The air around him had grown bitterly cold, his breath leaving trails of white mist that were quickly torn apart by the gale. His gray hair, usually neatly kempt, was tossed wildly by the fierce wind.

    Despite the bone-chilling cold, Bryan''s cheeks gradually flushed red, not from the biting wind, but from a rising excitement that he couldn''t fully suppress. The illusionary magic that had been concealing his eyes suddenly shattered like ss, revealing orbs of the purest purple. The light within them grew increasingly intense, reflecting the magnificent and terrifying spectacle before him.

    Bryan''s mind raced with possibilities and theories. Who had left this awe-inspiring and deadly spectacle? Was it Merlin? Or perhaps it was the ind''s original owner? Regardless of who had created this defense, or the method of its creation¡ªwhether through intricate spellwork, ancient runes, or somebination of magical disciplines.

    Here, across the long river of time, he found himself locked inbat with a wizard who could be considered unparalleled even in ancient times. For Bryan, who was constantly seeking to advance his magical prowess, how could he possibly pass up such an opportunity?

    It was simultaneously terrifying and exhrating, a chance to test the very limits of his abilities against magic that bordered on the realm of gods.

    From his vantage point inside the cabin, Sirius pressed his cheek tightly against the cold ss of the window, his eyes wide with speechless shock. The sight of those colossal pirs of water, defying all-naturalws as they connected heaven and earth, left him dumbstruck. His expression was dazed, as if his mind couldn''t fully process the impossible scene before him. For a moment, he even believed he must be dreaming.

    "Voldemort," Sirius suddenly muttered for some reason, then immediately shook his head in silence.

    Voldemort, the dark lord who had brought fear and nightmares to countless wizarding families, undoubtedly possessed power that Sirius could never hope to match in his lifetime. The very mention of his name was enough to send shivers down the spines of even the bravest witches and wizards. But even Voldemort, with all his terrible power and dark magic, what could he do in the face of such heavenly might? Compared to the raw, unbridled force of nature unleashed before them, anyone¡ªeven the most feared dark wizard of their time¡ªwould be utterly insignificant.

    As this realization washed over him, Sirius felt the weight of his own insignificance pressing down upon him. In the grand scheme of things, in the face of such awesome power, what was he but a speck of dust in the wind? But he quickly snapped back to reality. Now was not the time to think about such irrelevant matters!

    "How are you doing, Bryan?" Sirius called out; his voice tight with worry. Locked in the cabin as he was, he couldn''t see Bryan''s condition on the deck, and this uncertainty gnawed at him relentlessly.

    "Come down quickly, Bryan!" he shouted, his voice growing more urgent with each passing second. "Let''s use the Portkey to leave now, while we still can. Don''t be reckless, no one can handle that! It''s suicide to even try!"

    In Sirius''s eyes, Bryan was undoubtedly the most powerful wizard he had ever seen, aside from Dumbledore himself. The young man''s magical prowess was awe-inspiring, often leaving Sirius speechless. But thereiny the problem¡ªBryan was still a young man, and young people, especially those of exceptional talent, are often driven by an insatiablepetitive spirit. Sirius feared that Bryan''s desire to prove himself, to push the boundaries of his abilities, had muddled his brain, making him believe he could withstand nature''s wrath.

    Sirius kept calling out warnings, his voice hoarse from shouting over the howling wind. But no matter how loudly he yelled, no response came. Just as Sirius was about to lose thest shreds of his patience and draw his wand to destroy the magical cage that kept him trapped in the cabin, a violent tremor shook the entire ship. The force of it threw Sirius to the ground, his body mming against the cold, wet floor with bruising force.

    Before he could even attempt to regain his footing, a sudden feeling of extreme heaviness descended upon him. His heart lurched in his chest, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through his veins as he struggled to lift his head and peer out the window once more.

    Many yearster, when the world had finally returned to peace.

    The Daily Prophet, in a special edition to celebrate the anniversary of that earth-shattering final battle, sent its most talented reporters to interview some of the surviving heroes who had participated in the war that had reshaped their world.

    Sir Sirius ck, now a respected figure in the wizardingmunity and the esteemed Head of Gryffindor House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was of course among those chosen for these exclusive interviews. His role in the war, and his own remarkable story of redemption made him a figure of great interest to the public.

    When the young, eager reporter found himself face to face with the legendary Sirius ck, he was practically vibrating with excitement. With quill shaking over parchment, he asked what he thought was a simple, straightforward question: "Professor ck, in all your years of adventure and heroism, what was the most thrilling, awe-inspiring scene you ever witnessed?"

    The reporter, like many others, assumed that Professor ck would undoubtedly mention the final, climactic battle of the war. After all, it was a moment that had defined their generation, a sh of good and evil that had decided the fate of their world. But to his great surprise, the white-haired Professor ck just chuckled.

    With a smile that seemed to shed years from his face, transporting him back to a time of youth and danger, Sirius and began to tell another little-known story¡ª

    The story of his adventure with Grand Magus Bryan Watson.

    A deafening roar echoed through the void, a sound so primordial and powerful that it seemed to shake the very foundations of reality. It was a sound like the collective howl of gods and demons, a cacophony that suppressed even the never-ending shing of lightning, the rolling thunder, and the howling wind and rain that ravaged heaven and earth!

    Under a sky so dark it seemed to swallow all light, above a sea that raged with unnatural fury, a sight appeared that defied all reason and expectation. A winged fire serpent, its body so vast it seemed to touch the very limits of the sky, burst into existence. In an instant, this phantasmal beast set the already mad world aze with its presence.

    The fishing boat that had carried Bryan and Sirius to this point now seemedughably small, just positioned between the serpent''s massive, fiery eyebrows and on the top of it stood Bryan. His body was surrounded by fire that flowed like livingva, dyeing his restored eyes golden. He gazed at the whirlpools and waterspouts that were rapidly closing in on him with clear intent, his gray hair wild, his gaze imperious!

    <strong>Roar¡ª</strong>

    The sound waves, seemingly substantial, appeared to shatter the air into fragments. The fire serpent soared into the sky, raising waves of heart-pounding howls, illuminating theherworld!

    At the same time, an overwhelmingly strong force descended without any warning.

    The suction power scattered by the whirlpools, like the entrance to hell, formed an extremely strong gravitational force. Inside the cabin, caught off guard, Sirius was pressed firmly against the floor by this gravity, unable to move even a finger.

    As the gravitational force intensified, the fire serpent began to show signs of strain. The lifelike scales on its body, each one a masterpiece of magical conjuration, began to peel off under the immense pressure. But even as parts of it were stripped away, the Fiendfyre thatposed the serpent''s form showed its true, terrifying nature.

    Known for its ability to burn anything in its path, the cursed fire ignited the surging sea itself. The deep, cold whirlpools that had seemed so threatening just moments before were transformed into fiery vortexes that looked even more like the gates of hell. The contrast of fire and water, two elements eternally at odds, created a scene of both beauty and terror.

    Everything in sight, no matter where one looked, was burning with a violence that defied description. The world had be a canvas of me and fury, a sight that seared itself into the memory of all who witnessed it.

    Contrary to Sirius''s worried assumptions, Bryan was not blinded by just the desire to win or prove himself. In fact, he was well aware of the vast gulf that still existed between his own considerable powers and the level of the person who had set up this defense. This rity of mind, this ability to urately assess the situation even in the midst of such chaos, was perhaps Bryan''s greatest strength.

    And indeed, the following events quickly proved the wisdom of Bryan''s caution.

    The serpent, in all its fiery majesty, finally flew into the encirclement created by several massive waterspouts. In that instant, an indescribable pressure fell upon Bryan.

    The strong gravity continuously stripped away the Fiendfyre serpent that Bryan had conjured with such effort. Layer byyer, the magical construct was peeled apart, its essence scattered to the winds. But the true threat came from those pir-like waterspouts, which proved to be far more than simple columns of water.

    The strange power contained within them possessed an unimaginable might. Even the Fiendfyre, a curse that struck fear into the hearts of the most powerful wizards, did not disy its usual overwhelming dominance when it came into contact with the waterspouts. Instead, like ordinary fire, it was extinguished inrge quantities, hissing and steaming as it died.

    <strong>Sizzle¡ª</strong>

    White steam wafted everywhere, creating a fog that obscured vision and added to the surreal nature of the battle. Through this veil of mist and mayhem, the fire serpent was rapidly stripped away, visibly weakening at a speed perceivable to the naked eye.

    Bryan knew all too well the stakes of this confrontation. The road ahead had no visible end, but he understood with perfect rity that once the protective serpent waspletely dissipated, it would mark the moment of doom for both him and Sirius.

    Enduring wave after wave of magical exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm his body and mind, Bryan roared in anger, and the frustrated fire serpent was immediately replenished somewhat. With a movement, its wings shed horizontally through the air, severing two nearby waterspouts at their waists.

    The result was as spectacr as it was short-lived. A truly enormous volume of seawater, suddenly freed from the magical forces that had lifted it skyward, fell from the heavens. It created a magnificent, terrifying waterfall that stretched across the horizon, the roar of its descent drowning out even the thunder for a brief moment.

    But before Bryan could catch his breath or savor this small victory, thews of nature reasserted themselves with vengeance. The seawater that had just fallen, defying all logic and gravity, reversed its course. As if pulled by some cosmic hand, it surged back towards the sky, reforming the waterspouts that Bryan had so momentarily disrupted.

    At the same time, more whirlpools suddenly appeared ahead, rapidly forming into waterspouts, with the clear intention of not stopping until the intruders were annihted!

    Inside the cabin, Sirius, who could barely lift his head against the crushing gravitational force, watched the battle unfold with a mixture of awe and terror. Though this earth-shaking confrontation had nothing directly to do with him, it didn''t mean that Sirius was blind to the dire nature of their situation. With growing dread, he realized that despite Bryan''s incredible disy of power, they were fighting a losing battle against forces that seemed truly limitless.

    "Bryan!" Sirius shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and strained as he fought against the pressure pinning him down. "Give it up, Bryan! We''ll find another way in. Don''t waste your life on this impossible fight!"

    Outside, waves of magical exhaustion were crashing against Bryan''s nerves with increasing intensity. Each spell, each moment of maintaining the massive fire serpent, drained more of his considerable reserves. He gritted his teeth to support himself, staring ahead, a sense of unwillingness continuously welled up from the bottom of his heart.

    He knew, with the rational part of his mind, that Sirius was right. At this point, giving up was the only sensible option if they wanted to survive.

    Bryan was breathing heavily. He pressed his lips tightly together, staring intently at those ''heavenly pirs'' that never seemed to tire, as if trying to engrave this ''humiliation'' into the very fabric of his soul.

    <em>''Give up,''</em>

    Bryan told himself this too. Just as he was about to dispel the fire serpent and quickly transfer out of here using the Portkey, he suddenly felt an unexpected heat blooming in his chest. He instinctively looked down, and his expression froze.

    In this apocalyptic scene, two objects were emitting a strange light, rising slowly towards the sky under his astonished gaze!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0392 Mystery

    0392 Mystery

    Sirius''s ount of his escape from Azkaban had, perhaps unintentionally, misled Bryan into underestimating the formidable defenses surrounding the ind. Otherwise, knowing Azkaban''s connection to Avalon''s central temple and the legendary wizard Merlin, he wouldn''t have rashly attempted to invade this ce.

    The protective enchantments enveloping Azkaban were just not spells cast by modern-day wizards. No, these ancient wards had be intertwined with the ind''s natural environment over the course of millennia. Like a vast, magical sponge, the defensive magic constantly drew upon and stored power from the raw elemental forces of nature - the crashing waves, howling winds, and crackling storm clouds that perpetually besieged the deste ind. This symbiosis meant that Azkaban''s magical reserves were almost limitless and self-replenishing.

    Bryan, his confidence shaken and his magical prowess tested to its limits, had reluctantly conceded defeat. With a heavy heart, he was in the midst of preparing for an embarrassing retreat with Sirius when an extraordinary and wholly unexpected phenomenon suddenly manifested.

    Two legendary artifacts of immense historical and magical significance unexpectedly sprang to life: Rowena Ravenw''s legendary diadem and Godric Gryffindor''s main sword!

    Bryan possessed three relics from Hogwarts founding four. Szar Slytherin''s locket had been unearthed from the ck family''s Ancestral Manor. Gryffindor''s early ''real'' sword, was a trophy of Bryan''s expedition to the isle of Avalon the previous summer. And Ravenw''s diadem had been in his possession for a long time. He had kept it hidden until giving the broken diadem to Dumbledore at the end ofst year.

    Just few months ago, Bryan had reimed the now-restored diadem from Dumbledore. He had sensed that the founders'' relics might prove to be useful someday, but never in his wildest dreams had Bryan anticipated their sudden and dramatic activation in this moment of dire need.

    Under the oppressive, stormden sky, the exquisitely crafted diadem began to emit an otherworldly radiance. This holy light, pure and radiant, swiftly dispelled the suffocating magical pressure that had permeated the very air around them.

    Not to be outdone, Gryffindor''s sword leapt into action with equal passion. Its keen tip, honed to impossible sharpness, angled upwards in furious defiance of the roiling heavens. A halo of crimson energy, even more searing and intense than Bryan''s conjured Fiendfyre, enveloped the de. Where this scarlet aura touched the storm clouds above, vast strips of the tempest simply ceased to exist, vanishing as if erased by the hand of a cosmic artist.

    In this moment of crisis, the diadem and sword seemed to transcend their nature as just magical objects. United in purpose, these ancient relics stood as the only sword and shield against Azkaban''s magical defenses!

    The confrontation between these titanic forces seemed to be elevated to a higher ne of magical existence. All the destructive elemental phenomena that had raged around them few moments before now hung suspended in eerie motionlessness. Only the leaden weight of the air, thick with potential energy, hinted at the true intensity of this invisible sh of ancient magics.

    Even Bryan, a wizard of considerable power and knowledge, found himself struggling to fully grasp the scope and nature of this metaphysical battle. He could only sense, on some instinctive level, that the energies now in conflict were of simr magnitude.

    Sirius, still within the rtive safety of the boat''s cabin, remained oblivious to the true source of this inexplicable change in their circumstances. From his limited vantage point, he could only marvel at the gradual dissipation of nature''s fury, mistakenly crediting this miraculous turn of events to Bryan''s magical prowess.

    "Incredible!" Sirius''s voice rang out, a mixture of awe and unbridled excitement. "How on earth did you manage it, Bryan? This is beyond anything I''ve ever witnessed!"

    Sirius''s exmation jolted Bryan from his awestruck contemtion of the unfolding magical spectacle. With a start, he remembered that Sirius was still trapped in the cabin. Bryan was going to release Sirius when suddenly, a clear eagle''s cry and a lion''s deep roar echoed from the sky.

    Bryan''s head snapped upward, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight that greeted him. A perfect, wless white light, more pure and intense than anything he had ever seen, suddenly descended from the heavens. Within the span of a few heartbeats, this radiance had engulfed everything within sight, obliterating all other sensory input.

    The protective fire serpent that Bryan had conjured as ast line of defense against Azkaban''s wards dissipated in an instant. Standing precariously on the pitching deck of their small vessel, Bryan was struck by a sudden, overwhelming sensation of the world itself turning inside out. His vision failed himpletely, leaving him drifting in a sea of nk whiteness. More rmingly, his other senses seemed to abandon him as well, one by one.

    In the chaotic turmoil of this upheaval, even the most fundamental concepts of time and space seemed to lose all meaning. Bryan felt his magical connection to Sirius abruptly severed. He found himself utterly disoriented, unable to determine his physical location or how much time had psed since this bizarre phenomenon had engulfed them. The only thing that remained intact amidst this sensory deprivation was Bryan''s core sense of self - his ''conscious'' awareness.

    It took every ounce of Bryan''s considerable mental fortitude to suppress the rising tide of panic threatening to overwhelm him at the utter loss of control over his own body and senses. Fighting against the disorientation, he struggled to analyze the sequence of events that had led to this extraordinary situation.

    One thing became crystal clear to Bryan as he pieced together the fragments of things avable to him: this journey, with all its unexpected twists and turns, had once again been foreseen.

    Setting aside for a moment the consideration of Gryffindor''s sword - an artifact that had served as the legendary wizard Godric Gryffindor''s primary magical focus for a considerable portion of his life, and thus undoubtedly possessed extraordinary capabilities - Bryan''s thoughts turned to the equally powerful diadem of Ravenw.

    Over the past millennium, Ravenw''s diadem had passed through the hands of at least three immensely powerful hands: Voldemort, Dumbledore, and finally, Bryan himself. Throughout this long history, the diadem had never before disyed any overt magical properties or abilities. Even during moments of great magical stress - such as when Bryan had attempted to destroy it within that mysterious Room at Hogwarts years ago, or when Voldemort used it as a vessel for a fragment of his own soul - the diadem had remained stubbornly inactive, never exhibiting any power to defend itself or influence its surroundings.

    Yet today, at this critical juncture as Bryan attempted to breach the impregnable defenses of Azkaban, both the diadem and the sword had dramatically shed their unassuming disguises and revealed their true, magical natures.

    What had once been just spection was now an unwavering certainty for Bryan: the four founders of Hogwarts¡ªGodric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenw, and Szar Slytherin¡ªwere guiding his actions. These legendary figures were orchestrating events, subtly manipting circumstances to draw Bryan deeper into his investigation of the Twin Serpent Staff and the world-altering events that had unfolded in the aftermath of that cataclysmic battle years ago.

    Yet even as some questions found their answers, the same fundamental puzzles remained.

    The prophetic divination of the Druid Order''s previous high priest had first drawn Bryan into this web of mysteries. As he reflected on the interconnected nature of these events, Bryan realized this was no coincidence. The tapestry of fate epassing his destiny had begun to be woven a thousand years ago, or perhaps even further back in the mists of magical history.

    As he had anticipated after his journey to Avalon, as long as he was determined to pursue these matters, he was very likely to encounter more of the four founders'' back-up ns left behind to destroy the Twin Serpent Staff!

    Szar Slytherin''s chamber, also mentioned by Gryffindor, still waited in the depths of Hogwarts Castle for someone to unveil its mysterious veil.

    Gryffindor himself had personally guided Bryan to approach the Twin Serpent Staff - known by its true name, Caduceus - on the crisis-gued ind of Avalon. As Bryan pondered this, a startling new realization dawned upon him, something he had overlooked in the heat of the moment.

    If Gryffindor possessed the foresight and power to lead him to the Twin Serpent Staff in such a precise manner, surely the founder must have been aware that the staff was not an inanimate object, but a sentient magical artifact with its own will. Gryffindor must have known that once it was freed from the ancient altar''s seals, the staff would immediately slip beyond Bryan''s control and fall into the hands of the Druid Priestess Cliodna.

    This level of foresight must have been well within the vision of the four founders. But, the fact that Gryffindor didn''t prevent it... what did that mean?

    <em>''Was everything part of their n?''</em>

    And then there was Merlin - that legendary arch-mage whose very name was synonymous with the pinnacle of magical power and wisdom. A figure so steeped in myth and surrounded by conflicting ounts that separating fact from fiction seemed an almost impossible task.

    Throughout this series of events, the four Hogwarts founders had maintained a strong presence, but Bryan wouldn''t overlook the fact that Merlin was the source of it all.

    His actions a thousand yearster were all within the sight of the four founders of Hogwarts, but were the Big Four''s arrangements a thousand years ago also under Merlin''s control?

    "Bryan... Bryan..."

    As Bryan was analyzing these questions, suddenly, an eerie calling voice invaded his sub-consciousness, startling him out of his deep thoughts.

    Coming back to his senses with the mental equivalent of a gasp, Bryan realized that the blinding, pure white light that had engulfed him had now receded. The radiance now filtering through his closed eyelids and registering on his retinas seemed to have returned to a more normal, natural quality.

    Simultaneously, his other senses began to reawaken. He could faintly discern the rhythmic ebb and flow of ocean wavespping against some unseen shore, and feel the caress of a warm, salt-tinged sea breeze against his cheeks.

    "Mmm¡ª"

    After what felt like an endless struggle to reassert control over his own body, Bryan''s eyshes fluttered weakly several times before he finally managed to slowly, painfully pry his eyes open.

    The mellow sunlight that greeted him was not harsh or blinding, but rather possessed a gentle, almost soothing quality. Despite this, Bryan experienced an intense difort in his eyes, as if he had been plunged into utter darkness for an extended period of time and was only now re-experiencing light.

    "How do you feel, Bryan?" A familiar voice,den with deep concern, prated the fog of confusion surrounding Bryan''s newly awakened mind.

    It took Bryan''s confused brain a moment to process and recognize that the voice addressing him, filled with deep concern, belonged to Sirius.

    Bryan blinked rapidly; his vision still slightly blurred as he attempted to scan their new surroundings.

    They were, it seemed, still at sea. The water stretching out before them was a breathtaking azure. Above, the sky was a clear, crisp blue, without even the faintest wisp of cloud. In the far distance, barely visible on the horizon, a solitary ind stood beneath the vast expanse of sky.

    This seemingly reasonable picturesque scene actually contained many problems upon closer inspection. Bryan tried to identify the issues, but as soon as he tried to focus his thoughts, his head felt as if it had been stabbed by a dozen steel needles, and the pain was unbearable!

    Finally, his gaze fell on Sirius''s face, who was supporting him. As their eyes met, Bryan noticed an odd, almost shocked expression shing across Sirius''s face.

    "What''s wrong?" Bryan managed to croak out, his voice rough and unfamiliar to his own ears.

    "Your eyes¡ª" Sirius stammered, clearly struggling to speak his astonishment. "Why in Merlin''s name have they changed color?!"

    "Oh¡ª" Bryan''s fingertips instinctively brushed the corner of his eye as he tried to show a weak, reassuring smile. "They''ve always been this color."

    Bryan had never in his life experienced such a degree of physical and magical weakness. He found himself entirely reliant on Sirius''s support just to remain standing, and even the simple act of speaking left him breathless and drained.

    At this moment, as Bryan struggled to regain hisposure and gather his wits, he suddenly noticed another strange thing.

    He and Sirius were actually standing directly on the surface of the sea, defying all-naturalws of physics and magic. Even more baffling, Bryan was absolutely certain that Sirius wasn''t using any form of magical levitation or water-walking spell to achieve this impossible feat.

    "I can''t for the life of me figure out what''s going on either¡ª" Sirius''s eyes showed his own deep confusion and nervousness. "I regained consciousness just a few minutes before you did, and the moment I opened my eyes, I found us inexplicably floating on the sea surface. I''ve checked multiple times ¨C the seawater is most definitely real, not some borate illusion. But how in the name of Merlin''s saggy left... well, you know... are we standing on the water''s surface? I mean, why aren''t we sinking?"

    "Yes, why indeed?" Bryan murmured, his brow furrowing in concentration as he stared intently at the gently undting sea surface beneath their feet. The situation defied all logical exnation. He could clearly smell the distinct, scent of seawater filling his nostrils and feel the slight chill in the oing sea breeze against his skin. It all seemed real.

    "Aha, finally made it in!"

    Just as Bryan and Sirius were trying to unravel the mystery behind this strange situation, a familiar voice ¨C identical in tone and phrasing, only sounding younger ¨C made Bryan''s hair stand on end, leaving him dumbfounded!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0393 Who?

    0393 Who?

    Bryan and Sirius floated gently on the shimmering azure surface of the vast, endless sea. Their eyes swept across the horizon, taking in the breathtaking expanse of the ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. Except for a lonely small ind in the distance, there was nothing else.

    Suddenly, shattering the peaceful silence that surrounded them, a voice rang out from the seemingly empty space behind them. It was a voice that seemed to be etched within Bryan''s very soul.

    "Who''s there!"

    Instantly alert, Sirius''s body tensed as he supported Bryan with one strong arm. With his free hand, Sirius whipped out his wand, pointing it towards the source of the mysterious voice. His gray eyes, usually filled with mischief andughter, now zed with intense vignce.

    The apocalyptic scene they had witnessed earlier had shaken Sirius to his core. It had brutally exposed the limits of his magical abilities, leaving him fully aware of his own vulnerability in the face of greater powers. With Bryan temporarily weakened and unable to defend himself, Sirius knew that the responsibility for both their lives rested on his shoulders. He dared not show even a hint of carelessness or hesitation.

    As they watched with a mixture of uneasiness and curiosity, a truly wondrous sight began to unfold before their eyes.

    From the empty space behind them, as if emerging from another dimension, a massive ship gradually materialized.

    First, the bow of the ship pushed through. Next came the broad deck, stretching out like a floating ind. Towering masts sprouted upwards, unfurling great sails. As more of the ship emerged, they could see the cabin. Finally, the massive stern appeared.

    Yet, for all its magnificence, the ship bore clear signs of encountering some disaster. Its vast hull was battered and scarred. Ugly gashes marred its surface, some still smoking faintly. In many ces, particrly along the upper decks and masts, charred cracks spider-webbed across the wood - unmistakable evidence of devastating lightning strikes. It was as if the ship had sailed through the heart of a tempest sent by the gods themselves.

    Standing tall and proud on the ship''s elevated bow was a middle-aged man with fiery red hair and a broad face. From head to toe, he was soaked to the bone, his clothes clinging to his muscr frame and his hair stered to his forehead. Yet, despite his disheveled appearance, there was an unmistakable air of power and charisma about him.

    With one foot nted firmly on the ship''s rail, a pose of absolute confidence in front of the rolling waves, the man gazed intently towards the distant silhouette of Azkaban. A hearty, boomingugh erupted from his chest, echoing across the water.

    Bryan raised his head, staring intently at the wizard who seemed oblivious to his presence, and pursed his lips tightly.

    There,rger than life and seemingly plucked from the pages of history itself, stood Godric Gryffindor - one of the legendary four founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This was the man who had established the noble house of Gryffindor, whose reputation for bravery and chivalry had had remained undiminished for a thousand years. And now, he had appeared before him once again!

    Bryan''s mind raced as hepared this version of Gryffindor to the one he had encountered on the Avalon Ind. The differences were subtle but significant. This Gryffindor''s face bore fewer of the sword scars and appeared much younger. In fact, he didn''t seem much older than Bryan himself.

    As Bryan''s gaze traveled downwards, it fell upon the sword sheathed at Gryffindor''s waist. Another key difference revealed itself - this was not the familiar de that was in Dumbledore''s office at Hogwarts. Instead, it was the sword that he had obtained from the Avalon Ind.

    These obvious details merged in Bryan''s mind, leading him to a startling conclusion. This Godric Gryffindor, who had appeared so unexpectedly before them, was clearly from a time in the distant past. Most likely, Bryan deduced, this was Gryffindor before he had even set foot on Avalon Ind - a younger, perhaps slightly less experienced version of the legendary wizard.

    <em>''What was going on? Was this another imprint of soul power?''</em>

    Narrowing his eyes, Bryan stared intently at Gryffindor''s face, scrutinizing every detail. He searched for any sign that might reveal whether the man''s excitement - so intense as he stood there, apparently due to being in the midst of some great adventure - was genuine or merely a facade.

    Meanwhile, Sirius, like Bryan, had his attentionpletely captivated by the wizard standing proudly on the ship''s bow. As the massive vessel drew closer to where they floated in the water, Sirius''s wand arm gradually lowered, his initial defensive posture giving way to pure awe. His eyes widened to the point where they seemed in danger of popping out of his head, and his mouth gaped open in increasing shock. The expression on his face became almostically distorted with amazement, a mix of disbelief, wonder, and reverence.

    "Th-that..." Sirius stammered, his body trembling violently as the full impact of what he was seeing hit him.

    "I-I''m not seeing things, am I? Th-that''s..." His face flushed a deep red, a stark contrast to his usually paleplexion. As he struggled to form clear words, his grip on Bryan''s arm tightened unconsciously.

    Finally, after several failed attempts to speak, Sirius managed to blurt out a question, turning his incredulous gaze to Bryan''s face. "Am I dreaming, Bryan?"

    "What you and I are seeing is the same, Sirius," Bryan replied softly, his own lips still pursed tightly. "So, you''re probably not dreaming¡ª"

    "Phew¡ª" Sirius let out a heavy breath.

    "But... but how is this possible?" Sirius continued, his face still flushed with excitement and confusion. His eyes remained fixed on that wizard''s face, taking in every detail as if trying to memorize this impossible moment. "This person, if I''m not mistaken, he''s..."

    Sirius''s gaze, like Bryan''s before him, was drawn to the sword at the wizard''s waist. Under normal circumstances, Sirius would have mercilessly mocked any wizard who chose to carry a sword instead of a wand. But on this man, in this moment, it seemed not only appropriate but somehow perfect.

    "I must be dreaming!" Sirius dered forcefully, as if trying to convince himself. But then, as if a dam had burst within him, he shouted excitedly, his voice cracking with emotion. Pointing a trembling finger at the imposing figure on the ship, he cried out, "That''s Gryffindor! Godric Gryffindor!"

    Tears of joy and disbelief glistened in the eyes of the now middle-aged Sirius. His reaction was simr to the young witches in Bryan''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ssst year when they first saw Gilderoy Lockhart.

    But this was not just a celebrity crush - this was a moment of great significance for a wizard who had spent his entire life hearing tales of the great Godric Gryffindor.

    "What would James say if he saw him¡ª" Sirius''s lips quivered as he thought of his best friend. Suddenly, ovee by an irresistible impulse, Sirius let go of Bryan''s arm and leapt up, nearly losing his bnce on the rippling water. Waving both hands frantically, he tried desperately to attract the attention of the wizard at the bow.

    "Hey, great Godric Gryffindor!" Sirius shouted, his voice carrying across the waves. "I''m Sirius ck, I graduated from the school you founded! And.......And...... I''m from Gryffindor House!"

    Gryffindor continued to gaze enthusiastically at the distant ind of Azkaban,pletely oblivious to the now dumbstruck Sirius on the sea surface.

    And Sirius''s face fell, confusion and disappointment recing his earlier excitement.

    "Don''t waste your energy," said Bryan weakly, sitting on the surging sea surface, too feeble to stand without Sirius''s help. "Can''t you see? He can''t see us at all."

    "Can''t see us?" Sirius looked nkly at Bryan, then nced back and forth between his friend and the legendary figure several times, his mind struggling to process this information. Then, his expression turned into one of deep disappointment, the realization slowly sinking in. "He can''t see us... but, haven''t we traveled through time? What''s going on, Bryan? Is Gryffindor just an illusion?"

    Bryan''s response was tinged with irritation, born more from their confusing situation than from Sirius''s questions.

    "What kind of power could make us travel through a thousand years of time?" he asked rhetorically. Tugging at Sirius''s pants, Bryan struggled to stand up. When his gaze fell once again on the wizard who had caused him endless confusion, Bryan''s expression became aplex mix of curiosity, frustration, and determination.

    "An illusion... maybe," Bryan said, his tone thoughtful. "I can''t figure it out either, but undoubtedly, what we should do now is get on that ship."

    "We haven''t been invited, Bryan. Wouldn''t that be a bit disrespectful?" Sirius said hesitantly, still unable to shake off the shock brought by the person before him.

    But isn''t this reaction normal? What wizard who graduated from Gryffindor House wouldn''t be filled with reverence for Godric Gryffindor? Sirius was certain that if James had this opportunity, he would have fainted from excitement, and Remus would have reacted simrly!

    Finally, yielding to Bryan''s repeated insistence and his own burning curiosity, Sirius reluctantly agreed to carry his weakened friend onto the ship.

    Once on deck, Sirius''s behavior changed dramatically. He didn''t dare to approach Gryffindor directly, nor did he even look at him for more than a few seconds at a time. It was as if he believed that long observation of this legendary figure would be a form of sphemy.

    As Bryan busied himself with drinking a potion to regain his strength, the familiar taste bitter on his tongue, Sirius''s attention was caught by something else. Near the cabin door hung a g that made his heart leap with pride and excitement. Unable to contain himself, he shouted to Bryan,

    "A lion g, it''s the Gryffindor g! That''s right, Bryan, this man is Godric Gryffindor... My God, this trip is worth it!"

    Sirius was so caught up in his excitement that he failed to notice how unusually calm Bryan remained throughout this extraordinary encounter. Nor did he observe that on the other side of the cabin door hung another g - this one with a deep blue background trimmed in bronze.

    Suddenly, Gryffindor at the bow turned around, his piercing gaze sweeping across the deck and seeming to look directly at Sirius and Bryan. The unexpected movement made Sirius''s body go as rigid as if he''d been hit by a petrification spell. He stood frozen in ce, too overwhelmed with a mix of reverence and excitement to utter a single word.

    Gryffindor''s attention, however, was focused on the cabin behind them. His stern features softened into a warm smile, transforming his rugged face and lending it a touch of tenderness that opposed his warrior''s demeanor.

    "It''s just a change of clothes, Rowena," he called out, his voice tinged with a hint of amused exasperation. "You could have done it with just a flick of your finger, but you took so much time..."

    His gaze returned to the horizon, excitement burning in his eyes. "Do you see that ind? We''ve finally found the right ce!"

    At the mention of another familiar name from the annals of magical history, Bryan''s eyebrows twitched slightly. His gaze, along with Sirius''s, was drawn towards the cabin door.

    In the dim interior of the cabin, barely visible at first, the silhouette of a beautiful figure gradually became clear. With each passing moment, the shape became more defined, approaching the doorway step by step.

    As the figure stepped into the light, both men on the deck were struck speechless. Sirius drew in a sharp, audible breath, his eyes widening in disbelief. Even the usuallyposed Bryan felt his heart rate quicken, his gaze bing momentarily unfocused.

    <strong>Rowena Ravenw!</strong>

    Both Bryan and Sirius were familiar with the portrait of this equally famous witch that had hung for centuries in the office of the Head of Ravenw House. That painting had depicted a woman of such pure, almost otherworldly beauty that she had seemed almost deste in her perfection. Yet, remarkably, Rowena Ravenw had never been primarily renowned for her appearance. When people spoke of her, they more often praised her unparalleled wisdom and intellect.

    Now, seeing her in person (or at least, this incredibly lifelike phantom of her), both Sirius and Bryan felt a sense of wonder tinged with regret. How, they wondered, could generations of witches and wizards have overlooked Rowena Ravenw''s astonishing beauty?

    The Rowena who stood before them appeared younger than Godric, perhaps in her mid-twenties. Of course, this was just conjecture - they both knew that powerful magic had some effect in slowing the aging process, and no one could be certain at what stage of their lives these two of Hogwarts'' four founders were at this particr moment.

    But it wasn''t just Rowena''s physical beauty that captivated them. Her presence radiated an aura of wisdom and power that was almost tangible. Those ice-blue eyes, set in her perfect face, seemed to contain infinite depths of knowledge and understanding. Even though Bryan and Sirius knew that the figure before them was likely just a phantom/memory or illusion, when their gazes met Rowena''s, they felt as if their very souls were being drawn into those mesmerizing eyes.

    Rowena was dressed in a sky-blue vintage-style wizard''s robe that flowed around her like water, highlighting her graceful movements. The fabric seemed to shimmer slightly, as if infused with subtle magic. She wore no jewelry or adornments except for one exceptionally significant item - the famous diadem of wisdom perched atop her head. This legendary artifact, known to grant enhanced intelligence to its wearer, glittered brilliantly in the gentle sunlight.

    The otherworldly aura surrounding Rowena was like that of a goddess who had stepped down from the heavens to walk among mortals.

    Sirius, ovee by thebined presence of two legendary founders, stumbled backwards. He subconsciously avoided Rowena Ravenw''s path as she walked towards Gryffindor, even though Bryan had already said that what they were seeing maybe wasn''t real. His face was a filled with awe and disbelief, eyes darting between Godric and Rowena as if afraid they might vanish if he looked away for too long.

    As Rowena approached Godric, her lips curved into a fond smile that seemed to brighten the entire deck. When she spoke, her voice was melodious and clear, carrying easily despite the sound of wavespping against the ship''s hull.

    "We are humans first, Godric, and only then wizards. Magic is a gift of immense power, but it must be wielded with wisdom and restraint. If we abuse it, we will risk losing touch with humanity and forgetting who we truly are."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0394 The Future

    0394 The Future

    Rowena Ravenw walked past Bryan and Sirius with an ethereal grace, her robes of midnight blue shimmering with each step as she made her way towards Godric Gryffindor at the ship''s bow. The gentle sea breeze ruffled her long, raven hair, which cascaded down her back like a silken waterfall. Her voice was so crisp that Bryan felt as if he heard a mountain stream cutting through the harsh winter winds - refreshing, yet somehow otherworldly.

    This is a witch whose wisdom surpasses her emotions; Bryan made such judgement.

    Suddenly, Bryan realized that the aura surrounding Rowena Ravenw bore some resemnce to Luna Lovegood. Both witches possessed an almost tangible air of detachment, their gazes seemingly focused on some distant point beyond other''sprehension. And, most remarkably, this otherworldly demeanor did not emanate coldness or aloofness.

    Beside Bryan, Sirius finally shook off his initial shock and began to grapple with the extraordinary scene unfolding before them.

    "What in Merlin''s name is happening here, Bryan?" Sirius whispered, moving closer to Bryan as if afraid even his hushed voice might disturb the two legends.

    "Gryffindor and Ravenw... I feel like I''m trapped in some kind of fantastic dream. How is it possible that they''re here, right in front of us?"

    Bryan tore his gaze away from Ravenw''s retreating form to meet Sirius''s questioning look. A flicker of uncertainty passed through his own eyes before he replied, his voice low and thoughtful.

    "I wish I could give you a definitive answer, Sirius, but the truth is, no one can say for certain. However, I do have a theory," Bryan paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "It''s clear that the Gryffindor and Ravenw we''re seeing aren''t physically present. What we''re seeing must be some kind of preserved memory or magical imprint. A thousand years ago, two of Hogwarts'' founders must have, like us, once searched for Azkaban.""

    Sirius''s eyes lit up with understanding, his quick mind racing to connect the dots. "You mean to say," he began eagerly, leaning in closer to Bryan, "that this memory has been preserved by some magic in this area of sea, visible to anyone trying to break into Azkaban?"

    Bryan shook his head slightly, a small smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. "The memory isn''t tied to this location specifically. Rather, I believe it''s contained within Ravenw''s diadem - which, as it happens, is currently in my possession.

    I suspect the diadem has somehow sensed our intention to enter Azkaban, triggering this magical projection and allowing us to witness this moment from the past."

    Before Sirius could fully digest the shocking fact of Bryan possessing such a legendary artifact, he saw Bryan ''daringly'' approaching Gryffindor and Ravenw.

    Sirius called out urgently, his mind whirling with new questions. "But why were they here in the first ce? A thousand years ago, Azkaban wasn''t yet the wizard prison we know today." His eyes widened as a new possibility struck him. "Wait a moment... Bryan, could it be that Azkaban was actually constructed by Gryffindor and Ravenw themselves?!"

    Bryan''s pace slowed as he considered Sirius''s words. "An intriguing thought," he murmured, his curiosity clearly piqued.

    "Why did theye here? I suppose the only way to truly understand is to hear it from their own lips."

    As they drew nearer to the legendary pair, Godric Gryffindor''s booming voice carried across the deck. "The scenery here is quite breathtaking, wouldn''t you agree, Rowena?"

    Bryan couldn''t help but study the man who had be a symbol of courage and chivalry to generations of witches and wizards. Gryffindor cut an imposing figure - tall and broad-shouldered, with a mane of wild red hair that seemed to capture the essence of his fiery spirit. His eyes, a warm amber flecked with gold, sparkled with a mix of mischief and determination. It was a face that, once seen, could never truly be forgotten.

    Bryan had encountered Gryffindor once before, on the Isle of Avalon. Then, the founder had exuded an aura of raw power and indomitable will. His heartyugh and unwavering gaze had seemed to challenge the impossible odds as if daring the world to present him with a difficulty he couldn''t ovee.

    Yet now, in thepany of his fellow founder and clearly dear friend, Rowena Ravenw, Gryffindor''s demeanor had softened noticeably. His smile, while still radiant, held a gentler quality. His eyes, when they fell upon Ravenw, shone with unmistakable warmth and perhaps... something more?

    The thought gave Bryan pause. It was a question that had intrigued Historians and even history lovers for centuries. The personal lives of Hogwarts'' founders had always been shrouded in mystery, with only fragments of information passed down through the ages.

    Historical records clearly showed that both Szar Slytherin and Helga Hufflepuff had direct descendants still living through present time. Rowena Ravenw was known to have had a daughter, though the identity of the girl''s father remained a subject of much spection. Godric Gryffindor, interestingly, had never married - at least ording to any surviving official or historical ounts.

    For centuries, scandalous rumors and romantic spections about Gryffindor and Ravenw''s rtionship had passed down as stories in Hogwartsmon rooms and debated passionately by magical historians, with countless versions over the years.

    Now, watching the easy familiarity and subtle nces between the two founders, Bryan couldn''t help but wonder if perhaps those old tales had some truth.

    Gryffindor''s voice pulled Bryan from his daydreams. "When we return, perhaps we should discuss with Szar and Helga the possibility of relocating Hogwarts to this very spot."

    He gestured grandly at the sea around them, his grin widening. "Just look at how this area is protected by such powerful magic! If our students were to study here, no one would ever be able to persecute them!"

    Even a wizard as powerful as Godric Gryffindor would use childish jokes to amuse his femalepanion.

    Ravenw didn''t criticize Gryffindor''s ridiculous suggestion, but she did continue along this topic,

    "Before we set out on this journey," she began, her eyes bing detached with sadness, "another heartbreaking massacre urred in Caerleon. Three gifted children, innocents, identally revealed their magical abilities in front of people. When word reached the church.... Executioners quickly came to their doors. Those three children... they were executed before their parents'' very eyes."

    "What?!" Gryffindor''s roar of outrage was so ferocious that even Sirius, fully aware that this was just a memory, found himself instinctively shrinking back.

    "Where did you get this news, Rowena? And Why wasn''t I informed immediately?"

    Ravenw''sposure remained unshaken in the face of Gryffindor''s anger. Her voice was calm as she replied, "The news came to me through Ava. She also revealed that the Royal Wizarding Association has taken great pains to suppress all knowledge of this incident."

    At the mention of the Royal Wizarding Association, Gryffindor''s face twisted with disgust. "Those despicable, selfish cowards!" he spat, his massive fist clenching at his side. "They actually aided the church in harming our own kind! These so-called ''noble'' Wizarding families would stoop to any level to prevent magical knowledge from spreading to children of non-magical lineage!"

    Gryffindor''s entire body seemed to vibrate with barely contained rage. He mmed his fist - easily the size of arge cobblestone - against the ship''s railing. "We must teach them all a lesson, both the church and the Royal Wizarding Association!!"

    It was clear that Gryffindor was itching for action, his warrior''s spirit crying out for swift and decisive retribution against those who would harm innocent magical children But Ravenw remained calm.

    "You and I both know, Godric," she said softly, her words somehow cutting through his fury, "that violence cannot hope to eliminate the prejudice that has taken root in people''s hearts. It may satisfy our anger in the moment, but it will not bring aboutsting change. Brute force may win battles, but it cannot win the war against ignorance and fear."

    Gryffindor''s shoulders slumped slightly at her words, but the fire in his eyes did not diminish. "But surely, we cannot stand idly by while innocent children are murdered for the gift they were born with!" he argued, his voice rough with emotion. "We must take action, Rowena. We must find a way to change this abhorrent situation."

    A small, sad smile appeared across Ravenw''s lips as she replied. "And that is precisely why we founded Hogwarts. It is our contribution towards that noble goal." Her ice-blue eyes seemed to gaze into a future only she could see as she continued. "Someday, in the years toe, the wizarding world will be filled with talented magic users of non-magical descent. When that day arrives, the discrimination against them will naturally fade away."

    For a brief moment, it seemed as though a shooting star had streaked across Ravenw''s eyes - a sh of brilliant hope for the harmonious, just Wizarding world she envisioned.

    Gryffindor, despite his reputation for brash action, was far from a simple-minded warrior. As one of the four founders of Hogwarts, he possessed a keen intellect to match his courage. His brow furrowed in thought as he considered Ravenw''s words.

    "That will take many years, Rowena,"

    Gryffindor blinked, suddenly looking weary beyond his years. He was well aware of how deeply ingrained the reverence for bloodlines and magical inheritance was in wizarding society. Even Szar, their friend, had required countless heated debates before he agreed to the idea of founding Hogwarts. And while he had eventually consented to teach magic to Muggle-born children, it was obvious to all how coldly he treated those students at school.

    Yes, the road ahead would be long indeed.

    As the seriousness of the founders''s conversation settled over them, Bryan and Sirius found themselves drawn deeper into the unfolding scene. Even in their own time, a thousand years ahead from this moment, there were still many people moring for the extermination of Muggle-born wizards.

    "Before that distant day of equality arrives," Gryffindor said, his voice ringing with determination, "we must find a way to prevent such tragedies from urring in the present. We cannot allow more innocent children to fall victim to fear and ignorance!"

    "I''ve discussed this issue with Helga before¡ª"

    Ravenw''s expression softened as she gazed upon her emotional friend. Her slight smile seemed to brighten the very air around them.

    "The idental magical outbursts of young witches and wizards are, by their true nature, unpredictable, and we have no reliable means of predicting them in advance." She paused, her brilliant mind clearly working through the problem. "However, once such a magical event has taken ce, we must find a way to discover and locate these children faster than both the Church and the Royal Wizarding Association."

    Ravenw''s eyes lit up with inspiration as she continued. "I believe we could design a spell - an enchantment of immense scope that would cover the entirety of the country. This magic would be attuned to detect any urrence of idental magic performed by a young witch or wizard. Upon sensing such an event, the spell would record the child''s information... perhaps in a book of some kind. With this system in ce, we could arrange for our own people to reach the child''s side before the church or the Royal Wizarding Association even bes aware of their existence."

    "The Book of Admittance and the Quill of eptance!" Sirius eximed, his eyes wide with excitement as he recognized the description of artifacts still in use at Hogwarts in their own time. "That''s... that''s absolutely brilliant! Rowena Ravenw truly lives up to her reputation as the wisest witch of her age!"

    Gryffindor, while more ustomed to Ravenw''s strokes of genius, was no less impressed. He apuded enthusiastically, a broad grin spreading across his face.

    "Ah, Rowena, it''s a magnificent idea!" However, his expression soon grew thoughtful once more. "But to create a spell capable of covering an entire country, and one that must function continuously for... well, for countless years toe. That''s no small feat. In fact, I''m not sure it''s ever been attempted before. The magical theory alone would be incrediblyplex, not to mention the sheer power required to sustain such a spell."

    Ravenw met his concerned gaze with quiet confidence. "We will find a way, Godric. After all, don''t we all believe that the day wille when discrimination vanishes from our world? This is but one step on that journey."

    "Yes," Gryffindor agreed, his voice filled with renewed vigor. "That day wille, Rowena."

    With a heavy exhale, Gryffindor turned his gaze once more to the small ind that had be clearly visible on the horizon. Shrouded in an oppressive gloom, the rocky ridge seemed to radiate an aura of darkness and despair.

    "But before that glorious day dawns, we must ensure that this world we cherish hasn''t been destroyed!"

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 0395 Azkaban

    0395 Azkaban

    "Ensure that this world hasn''t been destroyed?" Sirius gasped, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and uneasiness. His eyes, wide with shock, darted frantically around the surrealndscape before settling on Bryan. Desperately seeking reassurance, Sirius turned towards him, only to find Bryan''s brow furrowed in deep concentration, seemingly lost in thought.

    Rowena Ravenw was clearly aware of what Gryffindor had said. She gazed at the small ind under the only patch of dark clouds in the otherwise azure sky, her eyes dimming slightly.

    Without warning, the ship beneath their feet surged forward. The vessel cut through the waves with newfound urgency as it dashed towards the ind. Bryan, shaken from his reverie by the sudden eleration, set aside his contemtion and turned his gaze towards their rapidly approaching destination.

    <strong>Azkaban-</strong> even its name sent shivers down the spines of the bravest witches and wizards. It was the most heavily guarded and feared location in the entire wizarding world, its reputation built on the tales of its infamous guards, the soul-sucking Dementors. Yet, for all the terrifying legends that circted about its guardians, little was known about the ind itself.

    "Bryan¡ª"

    Sirius began, his voice barely above a whisper. As the ind loomed ever closer, Sirius felt his shoulders involuntarily hunch, his body wracked by violent tremors. The increasingly vivid view before him dragged him back to the nightmarish years he had spent imprisoned within Azkaban.

    The soul-deep fear etched into every fiber of his being rapidly eroded what little courage and curiosity he had mustered. Even though his rational mind insisted that everything before him was just an illusion¨C Sirius found himself unable to shake the terror that gripped him.

    "You can be sure that we''re not in the real world now, right?" Sirius said, his voice cracking with desperation. "This is just a memory, correct?"

    "That''s almost certain¡ª" Bryan began, his voice trailing off as he noticed the unmistakable signs of distress etched across Sirius''s face. In that moment of shared understanding, Bryan''s expression softened with empathy.

    After a brief pause, during which he weighed his words carefully, Bryan reached out and ced aforting hand on Sirius''s trembling shoulder.

    "If you''re ufortable, you can stay on the shipter. I''ll go down with these two and have a look¡ª I guess this memory we''re in will end once Gryffindor and Ravenw finish exploring Azkaban. We should be able to leave by then."

    This suggestion was indeed quite tempting to Sirius. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze inadvertently falling on Gryffindor''s sword at his waist and the fluttering hem of his robe as he stood against the wind.

    "I want to go¡ª" Sirius said suddenly, his voice stronger than before. He drew in a deep breath, and his body was still trembling, but he managed to puff out his chest.

    "It''s just an illusion after all!"

    Sirius panted, his tone sounding both like an exnation to Bryan and encouragement to himself.

    "I am from the House of Gryffindor; how can I embarrass myself in front of Godric Gryffindor himself? Besides," he added with a forced chuckle, "if James knew I was this scared even knowing it''s an illusion, he''d definitelyugh his teeth off!"

    "You can make your own decision," Bryan replied with a nonchnt shrug of his shoulders. "Just don''t push yourself too hard¡ª"

    As they neared the shores of Azkaban, the boat slowed its frantic pace. At a gesture from Gryffindor, it came to aplete stop some distance from the ind, bobbing gently on the swelling waves. An eerie silence descended upon the group, broken only by the softpping of water against the ship''s hull and the asional mournful cry of a distant seabird.

    Bryan and Sirius, thetter still avoiding direct eye contact with his surroundings, stood in tense silence alongside Gryffindor and Ravenw.

    As they drew ever closer to the ind, it was as if all the color was being leeched from the world around them.

    The vibrant blues of sea and sky faded to various shades of lifeless gray, while the ind itself looked as though it had been ravaged by the Fiendfyre. All was so quiet, with only the painful moans of the air as it passed over the cracked rocks protruding from the ind''s surface.

    "The forbidden ce above the North Sea, the birthce and graveyard of death¡ª"

    The gloomy and terrifying Azkaban made even Gryffindor''s expression grow solemn.

    "We''ve finally found the clues you sought in the ancient texts and Helga''s prophecy, Rowena¡ª"

    Rowena nodded almost imperceptibly, her eyes dimming further.

    "Can you hear the wails of the lives that perished on thisnd, Godric?" she asked, her melodious voice tinged with sorrow. "Thatplete madman. It''s unimaginable if one day such an evil person returns to our world. In Helga''s prophecy, that terrible future¡ª"

    "Isn''t that why we''vee here?" Gryffindor interrupted, his handing to rest on the ornate hilt of his sword. His piercing gaze seemed to push back against the miasma of decay and despair that emanated from the ind. "To prevent such an oue?"

    As they drew nearer, it became apparent that referring to Azkaban as an ind was something of a contradiction. In truth, it more closely resembled an enormous, t reef that had thrust its way up from the depths of the sea. The only structure marring its barren expanse was a singr, circr tower that rose ominously from the center of the stone tform. Weathered by time, the jet-ck tower''s exterior was unnaturally smooth, its obsidian surface reflecting a faint, sickly light.

    "Something''s not right¡ª"

    Sirius mumbled, finally mustering the courage to raise his head and survey his surroundings. Having endured twelve years of torment within the tower''s oppressive walls, he felt no curiosity about the imposing structure that dominated the ind''sndscape. His only concern was for the Dementors - those soul-sucking monstrosities that had inflicted endless suffering upon him, stripping away not just his happiness but even his very capacity to feel pain.

    "The number of Dementors¡ª" Sirius began hesitantly, squinting against the gloom as he fought to suppress the waves of nausea and dread that threatened to overwhelm him.

    "Do you see those things, Gryffindor?"

    Rowena Ravenw suddenly spoke up, and Sirius immediately closed his mouth.

    "Evil creatures¡ª"

    The fiery Gryffindor''s tone was full of disgust.

    "Yes, I see them. We''ve never encountered them before, nor heard of them. Let''s go, Rowena. We''ll go over and see if it''s what we''re looking for."

    In the blink of an eye, Gryffindor and Ravenw vanished from Bryan''s field of vision, only to reappear momentster standing on the shores of Azkaban ind. Afraid of missing any crucial information, Bryan acted on instinct. He reached out and grasped Sirius''s arm firmly, their bodies shimmering and bing ethereal as they took flight, soaring towards the ind.

    <strong>Dementors!</strong>

    These terrifying creatures, now infamous throughout the wizarding world, were virtually unknown to the general magical poption a millennium ago.

    For hundreds of years, this deste ind had remained uninhabited by any sentient beings. It was likely that Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenw were the first witches or wizards to set foot on its ursed shores since the mysterious disappearance of its original inhabitants.

    The Dementors that hung around the ind''s periphery, having survived for centuries on the meager emotions they could garner from passing sea creatures, were sent into a frenzy by the sudden appearance of the two legendary Hogwarts founders.

    Thirty to forty Dementors emitted hoarse sounds, leaving a faint frost in the air wherever they passed!

    These creatures, devoid of reason or mercy, were incapable of realizing the immense magical power possessed by those they were trying to harm. As they approached within about sixty feet of the two legendary wizards, Gryffindor''s hand moved with lightning speed. In one fluid motion, he drew his sword and thrust it skyward. The crisp, ringing sound of the de leaving its scabbard reverberated through the air, more stirring and potent than a p of thunder.

    Above them, the roiling dark clouds that shrouded Azkaban were suddenly and violently pierced. A massive hole appeared in the gray canopy, allowing golden sunlight to pour down upon the stedndscape.

    Gryffindor''s eyes zed with an inner fire, and from his sword - now crackling with magical energy - a strange power began to emanate in pulsating waves. This force seemed capable of freezing space itself; as it washed over the advancing Dementors, they were frozen one by one in mid-air, even their tattered robes hung motionless.

    It is widely known throughout the wizarding world that there is only one spell capable of affecting Dementors - the Patronus Charm.

    On the Isle of Avalon, Bryan had also seen Gryffindor''s own Patronus. It was a majestic lion, and at the time, that Patronus had given Bryan quite a fright because the lion was actually corporeal.

    Now, Gryffindor once again taught a lesson to future young wizards:mon sense can be broken, and Dementors are not only restrained by Patronuses!

    While Gryffindor held the Dementors at bay with his extraordinary disy of magical prowess, Rowena Ravenw seized the opportunity to showcase her own formidable abilities. With graceful precision, she raised her slender wrist, directing her palm towards the nearest of the frozen Dementors. The air around her hand immediately became hazy and distorted, shimmering like the surface of a heat-struck desert.

    The targeted Dementor, as if caught in some invisible current, began to drift slowly but unescapably towards Ravenw''s outstretched hand. Despite their imposing stature - typically standing at least a dozen feet tall - this particr Dementor appeared to be under some form of powerful magicalpression as it floated towards her.

    Wisps of inky ck smoke rose from its massive, terrifying form. As these dark energies were forcibly expelled, the Dementor''s body began to rapidly contract. By the time it finallynded on Ravenw''s palm, it had been reduced to a ''miniature'' little Dementor, norger than a child''s doll.

    Gryffindor''s prating gaze fell upon this tiny Dementor, and for reasons known only to him, the solemnity etched between his eyebrows deepened further.

    With fluid grace, Ravenw brought her hands together, enveloping the miniaturized Dementor between her palms. As she did so, countless rays of dazzling, holy light began to escape from between her fingers, bathing the immediate area in a warm, golden glow that stood in stark contrast to Azkaban''s perpetual gloom.

    "Stop!"

    At the edge of the ind, Bryan, who had justnded on the rocky shore, red fiercely at Ravenw with bloodlust. His eyes zed with an unexpected ferocity as he resolutely raised his wand, much to Sirius''s astonishment.

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 0396 The Dementors

    0396 The Dementors

    The Dementors, those infamous and terrifying guards of Azkaban prison, have long been a source of evesting fear in the wizarding world. These emotionless, wraith-like creatures are known to strike dread into the hearts of even the bravest souls who speak their name. With their ability to drain happiness and pleasant memories from the minds of their victims, they leave nothing but hollowed shells devoid of joy or hope. Dementors represent the very essence of despair.

    What''s more terrifying is that these monsters seem to have no weakness. While the Patronus Charm can temporarily repel them, no known magic has ever seeded in permanently destroying a Dementor. This chilling fact has led many to believe that these creatures are truly immortal, existing beyond the boundaries of life and death.

    The Ministry of Magic''s decision to employ these nightmarish beings as guards at Azkaban has been a constant source of controversy and criticism. Many argue that subjecting prisoners, regardless of their crimes, to the despairing presence of Dementors is cruel and inhumane. However, supporters of the Ministry''s policy point out an undeniable truth: the threat of Dementor serves as a powerful deterrent to evil-doers throughout the Wizardingmunity.

    In this tense atmosphere, Rowena Ravenw was attempting to destroy these fearsome beings. Even Sirius could easily discern Ravenw''s intentions. His hatred for Dementors ran deep, and upon realizing Ravenw''s intentions, Sirius momentarily forgot his fear of revisiting this ce. A spark of anticipation ignited in Sirius''s eyes, a glimmer of hope that perhaps these tormentors could finally be vanquished.

    But suddenly, an angry shout shattered the oppressive silence, startling Sirius out of his hopeful reverie. The source of this unexpected outburst was none other than Bryan.

    Sirius had never seen Bryan in such a state before. The young man''s usually handsome features were twisted into a mask of rage, his eyes zing with an intensity that bordered on madness. With a swift, decisive motion, Bryan raised his wand, pointing it directly at Ravenw ordering her to stop in a harsh voice.

    Utterly bewildered by this sudden turn of events, Sirius found himself questioning Bryan''s sanity.

    "What in Merlin''s name are you doing, Bryan?" he eximed, his voice a mixture of confusion and concern.

    The situation made no sense to Sirius. ording to Bryan''s earlier exnation, what they were seeing was just a memory - events that had already happened and couldn''t be altered or interfered with. So why was Bryan reacting with such unrestrained fury to Ravenw''s attempt to destroy the Dementors?

    Almost as if driven by instinct, Bryan''s body tensed, his grip on his wand tightening as he continued to aim it at Ravenw''s back.

    It was Sirius''s shout of rm that crashed like thunder, snapping Bryan out of his trance-like state. Bryan''s body shuddered violently as if waking from a terrible nightmare and beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead.

    "What''s going on, Bryan?" Sirius''s voice was filled with concern.

    Bryan''s lips moved, but no words came out. He didn''t know how to exin to Sirius the overwhelming, instinctual reaction that had been driven by something deep within his very soul.

    After several tense moments, Bryan managed to find his voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. "It''s nothing," he said, clearly lying but unable or unwilling to borate.

    "Let''s keep watching." With that, he pressed his lips tightly together, a clear signal that he would say no more on the subject.

    As they turned their attention back to the unfolding scene, they witnessed a disy of magic that defied imagination. In Ravenw''s palm, a miniature sun seemed to be taking form. Its radiant light pierced through the perpetual gloom of Azkaban, causing the very foundations of the gloomy ind to tremble in response. The sheer magnitude of this power, even within a memory, was enough to cause Bryan''s expression to change once more.

    In the distance, the frozen Dementor''s ethereal body trembled violently, as if enduring unimaginable agony. The unfortunate creature directly subjected to Rowena Ravenw''s formidable power emitted a continuous, bone-chilling wail from within her grasp. The sound was unlike anything Sirius or Bryan had ever heard before - a cry of pure anguish that seemed to resonate on a spiritual level.

    As the hellish cries continued to echo across the destendscape, Godric Gryffindor, standing beside Ravenw, made a decisive move. With a look of grim determination etched onto his face, he reached out his rough, battle-scarred hand and grasped Ravenw''s delicate palm.

    The moment their hands connected; A thunderous boom erupted from the Void!

    What followed was a disy of magical synergy unlike anything recorded in the annals of wizarding history. Two vastly different soul energiesbined like apocalyptic millstones. Together, they attempted to grind the Dementor out of existence in the most direct and brutal manner imaginable.

    The agonized wailing emanating from their joined hands gradually weakened, bing fainter and fainter until it was barely audible. The very air around them seemed to distort, warped by the sheer magnitude of the magical forces at y.

    After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only a matter of moments, Gryffindor slowly moved his palm away. Ravenw deep in concentration, also opened her hand.

    The tension in the air was palpable as Bryan and Sirius immediately moved closer, eager to see the results of this unprecedented magical assault. However, their expressions quickly darkened when they saw what remained in Ravenw''s hand.

    Against all odds and expectations, the Dementor was still there.

    The creature had been drastically altered by the power it had just endured. Its form was now nearly transparent and reduced to roughly the size of a small fish.

    Yet, despite this dramatic reduction, the fundamental essence of the Dementor persisted. It had not been destroyed or erased from existence as Gryffindor and Ravenw had clearly intended.

    "How is this possible?" Sirius eximed, his voice a mixture of disbelief and disappointment.

    Indeed, ording tomon knowledge in the wizarding world, Dementors were believed to be indestructible. But surely, Sirius thought, that belief was based on the limitations of ordinary wizards. The ones who had taken action before them were none other than the great Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenw, two of the perhaps most powerful wizards in history. How was it possible that even with theirbined powers, they couldn''t annihte a single, ordinary Dementor?!

    Bryan''s eyes flickered with an odd light, finding it equally incredible.

    As they stood there, frozen in shock and struggling to grasp the scene before them, Gryffindor, undeterred by this initial failure, prepared to make another attempt. His legendary sword began to hum with magical energy. The air shimmered around the de, and suddenly, a majestic lion with ruby-red eyes and a fiery mane materialized out of thin air, roaring furiously at the ''little Dementor'' in Ravenw''s palm.

    Sirius, momentarily forgetting the seriousness of the situation, cried out in excitement like a young wizard witnessing magic for the first time. The Patronus was indeed a magnificent sight, embodying all the courage and nobility associated with the house of Gryffindor.

    Bryan, on the other hand, having seen this particr Patronus before narrowed his eyes in anticipation of what would happen next.

    With the unspoken understanding thates from years of friendship and coboration, Rowena gently shook her palm, allowing the tortured ''little Dementor'' to float towards Godric''s Patronus. The corporeal lion opened its terrifying, blood-red mouth wide. In one swift motion, it swallowed the diminished Dementor whole.

    "This time it''s surely done for!" Sirius shouted out confidently, his voice ringing with a mix of excitement and vindication.

    The Patronus, which seemed as alive and sentient as any living creature, let out another fierce growl. A mysterious magical power began brewing within its closed mouth but¡­.

    After a moment of breathless anticipation, something unexpected happened. The majestic lion Patronus, with what almost seemed like a look of confusion on its spectral face, spat something out onto the floating ground.

    Rowena Ravenw with a frown of concentration, stared intently at what the Patronus had expelled. There, floating above the ground, was a transparent ghostly creature. It was the Dementor, now reduced to a size norger than a pinky finger, but still unmistakably present and intact.

    Ravenw spoke, her voice losing its usual ethereal quality and bing heavier with the seriousness of this revtion, "Do you see it, Godric?"

    Gryffindor nodded grimly, his expression a mixture of frustration and understanding. Ravenw continued, her ice-blue eyes flickering with a hint of worry, "It cannot be destroyed. The Patronus indeed has the power to affect it, but the key isn''t in the power of the soul, it''s in... happiness. And these pitiful creatures¡ª"

    <em>''Not in power, but in happiness.''</em>

    Bryan''s brow furrowed slightly as he pondered her words, trying to decipher their full meaning. But what he heard next shattered hisposure entirely!

    "Ah, Herpo¡ª" Gryffindor said, his voice tinged with a hint of mncholy and perhaps a touch of anger. "That cunning fellow created the Horcrux, using the lure of immortality to deceive so many wizards of his time. They were used, constantly splitting their souls, ultimately bing these empty shells caught between life and death, ghosts without substance."

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    The impact of these words was like a bolt of lightning striking Bryan''s very soul, draining the color from his face.

    What did this mean? Dementors were... wizards? Not just any wizards, but those who had attempted to achieve immortality through the creation of Horcruxes? Wizards who had split their souls so many times that they had be these empty, soulless shells?

    Sirius, standing beside Bryan, also wore an expression of shock and doubt. Though he didn''t know what a Horcrux was- he could at least understand the basic implication of Gryffindor''s words. The fearsome Dementors, the terror of Azkaban, were once human wizards who had somehow split their souls.

    Bryan''s thoughts whirled in turmoil as he tried to merge this new information with what he knew.

    In modern times, Voldemort was the only wizard Bryan was aware of who had split his soul multiple times, a feat of dark magic that had given even the ''great'' Albus Dumbledore no end of trouble. Voldemort had likely been most proud of his mastery over Horcrux magic, viewing it as the ultimate path to immortality. But neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort could have imagined that the ultimate fate of repeatedly splitting one''s soul would be... this.

    As Bryan''s mind raced, piecing together the inferences in this revtion, he found that it made perfect sense in a twisted way, didn''t it? A Horcrux, by its very nature, would strip away the good parts of a person''s soul, leaving only the darkest aspects of human nature behind. And if, in the end, even that remnant of evil was stripped away through repeated divisions, what would be left?

    The answer was chilling: <em>Dementors fed on the emotions of the living out of instinct, an instinct toplete what was missing in themselves!</em>

    "How pitiful¡ª" Ravenw''s face showed a depth ofpassion that seemed at odds with the reputation often attributed to her house. Her ice-blue eyes softened for a while as she gazed at the tiny Dementor, seeing not a monster, but a tragic victim.

    "These wizards fell victim to a plot, they must have once followed Herpo, believing that his gift of the Horcrux magic was a reward, a path to eternal life. But they were used as pawns in a greater scheme. Herpo only needed their nearly indestructible shells after they had transformed into these creatures."

    <em>''Needed their shells?''</em>

    Despite the chaos swirling in his mind, Bryantched onto this phrase, sensing its importance. He knew that either Gryffindor or Ravenw must have preserved this memory as a crucial piece of information, a guide for future generations. Yet, even with this knowledge, he still couldn''t fully decipher all the information presented to him.

    "Pitiful creatures indeed," Gryffindor agreed, his voice a mix ofpassion and steely resolve. "But regardless of their origins, we must find a way to destroy them. The threat they pose is too great to ignore."

    Ravenw nodded slightly, her expression serious. "That''s the most crucial step," she agreed. "Understanding their nature is important, but finding a way to disintegrate them... that''s the true challenge we face."

    As this solemn conversation took ce, Sirius found himself looking back and forth between Bryan''s pale, conflicted face and the imposing figures of Ravenw and Gryffindor. He opened his mouth several times but didn''t know what to ask.

    There were simply too many questions, too many earth-shattering revtions to process all at once. But one thing Sirius knew with absolute certainty: he had just learned some extremely important secrets. And Bryan''s insistence oning here was most likely rted to these secrets!

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0397 The Limit

    0397 The Limit

    <em>''The Dementors are wizards who have split their souls multiple times ¨C So, what is the limit?''</em>

    As Bryan''s mind raced with this question, he couldn''t help but connect dots with Voldemort. From what Bryan had pieced together, Voldemort had created at least four Horcruxes: Ravenw''s diadem; Hufflepuff''s cup; Slytherin''s locket, and the diary. Harry is an unintentional Horcrux, a fact known only to Dumbledore and himself- even Voldemort is likely unaware that he identally created this Horcrux.

    That makes five in total.

    Given Bryan''s understanding of Horcrux magic and his knowledge of souls, it seemed impossible for Voldemort to have created multiple Horcruxes beyond a certain point. At some stage, the loss of soul would be enough to drive a person insane. Judging from Voldemort''s behavior, he hadn''t yet gone mad.

    Moreover, as the soul split approaches some limit, would the main wizard even retain the ability to actively split their soul?

    The agitation in Bryan''s eyes subsided a little, as he pondered these deeply.

    Probably not - creating a Horcrux is no easy feat. Bryan had personally witnessed the torment suffered by wizards who failed in their attempts to achieve immortality through Horcruxes. If, as Gryffindor and Ravenw had imed, Dementors were indeed wizards who had split their souls too many times, then "too many" likely meant an astounding number - perhaps a dozen or more!

    This realization led to another perplexing question: If even a wizard as powerful Voldemort hadn''t achieved such a feat, could there have really been so many wizards throughout history capable of rivaling or surpassing Voldemort''s power?

    The answer was impossible.

    Therefore, these poor souls were likely controlled by the inventor of Horcruxes and the origin of all these schemes--Herpo the Foul.

    The more Bryan considered this possibility, the more convinced he became. Herpo must have used some method to force other wizards to split their souls against their will.

    The Blood Curse spell was evidence enough of Herpo''s mastery of soul magic.

    Many puzzles were solved after the two Hogwarts founders revealed the true nature of Dementors, but at the same time, new questions arose.

    Sirius felt like he had returned to his ignorant student days. Of everyone present, he was the most clueless. He blinked his eyes expectantly, hoping Bryan would say something, but Bryan, noticing his confusion, only shook his head slightly and said.

    "Let''s keep watching,"

    The scene before them continued to unfold. Gryffindor, having confirmed that the Dementors could not be directly destroyed by force, lifted his magical suppression on the outer ring of the soul-sucking creatures. The effect was immediate and surprising.

    The freed Dementors, rather thanunching into a frenzied attack on the two Hogwarts founders as one might expect, began to emit strange, high-pitched squeaking cries and scrambled to flee - this at least proved one thing: these monsters could feel fear, even if that fear stemmed from instinct rather than conscious emotion.

    The carefree Gryffindor sheathed his sword and dusted off his hands, paying no mind to this detail. Ravenw, however, had a glint in her ice-blue eyes as she observed this scene.

    "We''ve finally confirmed some things!" Gryffindor eximed, his voice booming with an enthusiasm that seemed almost out of ce given the grim nature of their discoveries. But such was Gryffindor''s nature - eternally optimistic. Even though he knew what kind of opponent they were facing, there wasn''t a trace of worry on his face.

    Ravenw''s response was more measured. Her lips were pursed in thought as she gently stroked the diadem on top of her head. The crown seemed toe alive under her touch. It emitted a soft, otherworldly glow, pulsing with a mysterious power that reached out towards the battered Dementor before them.

    In a disy of magic that left even Bryan awestruck, the diadem began to absorb the Dementor. It was as if the creature was being drawn into the magical artifact, it''s dark essence was sealed away within the gleaming diadem.

    "I''ll take it back to study with Helga and Szar," Ravenw said, her voice calm despite the extraordinary feat she had just performed. Then, without missing a beat, her piercing gaze turned towards a distant point on the ind. "Let''s go take a look over there, Godric. I sense something."

    With those words hanging in the air, Ravenw and Gryffindor vanished from where they stood.

    "That ce!" Sirius eximed, his voice a mix of recognition and dread. Among the four of them, Sirius was the most familiar with theyout of Azkaban. Bryan eager to follow the founders was about to take flight, when Sirius''s face suddenly drained of color. His eyes, wide with a mix of fear and excitement, darted to the small, barred windows dotting the exterior of the high tower looming over them.

    "Remember what I told you?" Sirius said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That stone pir you were so interested in - it''s in the ruins in that direction!"

    "Let''s go and have a look," was all Bryan said in response.

    As they approached, thendscape transformed dramatically. Where once there had been nothing but bleak, windswept rock, there now sprawled a vast expanse of ancient ruins. Bryan, surveying the scene from above, felt a jolt of recognition. The crumbling structures below matched perfectly with the architectural style of the temple he had seen at the center of Avalon Ind.

    So, he immediately confirmed that the temple at the center of Avalon Ind had been relocated from this very spot.

    Sirius, noticing Bryan''s intense focus on the ruins, feltpelled to share what he knew. "When I was in Azkaban, this entire area was submerged underwater. It was only at certain times of the year, when the sea receded, that you could catch a glimpse of these ruins."

    Bryan nodded, acknowledging Sirius''s information while his gaze zeroed in on a tall, rough-hewn stone pir that dominated the center of the ruins.

    It was the same scale and form as the pirs used to construct Stonehenge.

    As they drew closer, they could see that Ravenw and Gryffindor were already there, examining the pir with intense focus. Ravenw had one hand pressed against the ancient stone, her eyes closed in deep concentration.

    "This is a seal," Ravenw said calmly, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the group. "I can feel that this pir doesn''t exist alone. Far in the distance, there are other structures that share the same source of power as this one."

    Gryffindor, who had been circling the pir with his head tilted back in curious examination, stopped in his tracks at Ravenw''s words. He reached out, tapping the pir with his finger as if testing its solidity.

    "In that case," he said, his voice rich with interest, "The one who left it here must be Merlin?"

    "It should be so," Ravenw agreed.

    <strong>Merlin¡ª</strong>

    Sirius, who had been struggling to keep up with the rapid revtions, felt his jaw drop. He turned to Bryan, expecting to see an equally shocked expression, but found only calm eptance on his friend''s face. Sirius felt a wave of numbness wash over him as he realized just how many earth-shattering secrets he had stumbled upon in such a short time.

    Ravenw''s voice cut through Sirius''s daze. "I can open it, Godric," she said, her eyes flicking to where Gryffindor''s hand rested on the hilt of his sword. There was a note of caution in her voice as she added, "But, I''m just not sure if we should."

    "We were guided here to this ind, Rowena," Gryffindor said in a deep voice. "He must have known what we would do."

    Ravenw nodded slightly, clearly in agreement with Gryffindor''s assessment. Without further discussion, she turned her full attention to the task at hand.

    The diadem of wisdom, that powerful artifact of Ravenw''s own creation, lifted gently from her head. It hovered in the air above the stone pir, seeming to glow with an inner light that grew stronger by the second.

    Suddenly, a beam of pure white light shot from the crystal-studded diadem, engulfing the ancient pir in its radiance. As the light touched the rough stone surface, an extraordinary transformation took ce. A ''star curtain'' - there was no other way to describe it - materialized on the pir''s surface. Countless pinpricks of light, like stars in a night sky, began to move in intricate, predetermined orbits across the stone.

    Under the continued illumination from Ravenw''s diadem, the star-like points of light began to elerate. What had started as a mesmerizing dance soon became a dizzying spectacle, the ''stars'' moved so quickly that they blurred into streaks of light across the pir''s surface.

    As the ster disy reached a fever pitch, the entire massive pir began to vibrate. The tremors spread quickly, causing the very ind beneath their feet to shake. The ck rocks that made up the ground began to crack and shift.

    "What is this thing?" Sirius asked, his brow furrowed in a mix of awe and apprehension.

    "Magical operation nodes,"

    This time, it was Bryan''s turn to be at a loss.

    For Bryan, a somewhat skilled alchemist with years of experience and a vast repository of magical knowledge, to be rendered nearly speechless was a testament to the extraordinary nature of what they were witnessing. In all his years of study, among all the magical artifacts and alchemical tools he had encountered, nothing came close to the sheerplexity and power of the magical circuit nodes etched into this ancient pir.

    It wasn''t just the seal of Merlin that left Bryan in awe. The fact that Rowena Ravenw, after just a brief examination, had not only deciphered the intricate magical nodes but also found a way to activate it, spoke volumes about her legendary wisdom and magical prowess.

    Truly worthy of being hailed as the wisest witch!

    As Bryan marveled at Ravenw''s incredible feat, Sirius''s sharp eyes caught movement in the periphery of their vision.

    "Those Dementors are surrounding us again!" he shouted, his voice tight with tension.

    Indeed, the Dementors who had earlier been scattered by Gryffindor''s disy of power had regrouped. They hovered at a distance, forming a loose circle around the ruinedplex. Even from afar, the creatures radiated an aura of agitation, their cloaked forms seeming to ripple with dark energy. Yet, under Gryffindor''s piercing gaze, none dared to approach too closely.

    "It seems there''s something particrly important to the Dementors hidden beneath this seal," Bryan observed, his voice soft but carrying an edge of excitement.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    A thunderous boom shook the air. The stone pir, which had been vibrating with increasing intensity, suddenly burst with light so bright it momentarily blinded them all. When their vision cleared, they saw that the star curtain had vanished, leaving the pir''s surface rough and unmarked once more.

    Under Ravenw''s guidance, the pir began to rise slowly into the air. As it ascended, the tremors that had been shaking the ind intensified. The cracks in the ck rocks beneath their feet widened, and an ominous power seemed to pulse from deep within the earth.

    When the pir had risen high enough, a gaping hole appeared in the ground before them, its edges jagged and uneven as if torn open by some colossal force. This pitch-ck, seemingly bottomless chasm yawned wide, like the maw of some primordial beast awakening from an eons-long slumber.

    The darkness that poured forth from this opening was unlike anything they had ever encountered. It was more than just an absence of light; it was as if the very concept of darkness had been distilled into its purest form. The inky ckness seemed to move with a life of its own, tendrils of shadow reaching out hungrily towards the assembled wizards.

    But it wasn''t just darkness that emanated from the hole. An aura of death and decay washed over them in palpable waves, carrying with it the whispers of countless tormented souls. The very air around them grew heavy and oppressive, as if the weight of centuries of suffering was pressing down upon them.

    Even Gryffindor, known for his unwavering courage in the face of any danger, couldn''t help but squint his eyes slightly as this malicious aura brushed against his face. His usually cheerful face darkened, a mix of anger and determination settling over his features.

    "What a dreadful feeling," Gryffindor said, his words tinged with barely contained fury. There was a tremor in his voice that spoke not of fear, but of a deep, righteous anger. "How many lives lie buried down there?"

    "Brace yourselves," Bryan said grimly before jumping into the ck hole. "We''re likely to see some shockingly cruel sights."

    "What we''ve seen already is enough to shock me for a lifetime," Sirius replied with a resigned expression.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0398 The Discoveries

    0398 The Discoveries

    As one of the world''s most powerful wizards, there were very few phenomena in the Wizarding World that could truly unsettle or intimidate Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenw, especially when they were working together.

    Now, as they stood before what appeared to be the very maw of the underworld itself¡ªthe two barely hesitated for more than a heartbeat. With a shared nce of determination glinting in their eyes, they leapt decisively into the gaping darkness.

    Bryan and Sirius, being in the memory world, were free from any constraints and followed suit.

    The passage that greeted them was a twisting tunnel that burrowed deep into the earth''s crust. The air grew increasingly dense and oppressive as they plummeted further from the surface, carrying with it the musty scent of long-forgotten caverns and the faint, briny tang of seawater.

    Bryan, his senses oddly heightened despite existing in a memory, found himself marveling at the vividness of these sensations. He assumed that the method used to preserve this particr memory must have been extraordinarily powerful, allowing them to experience some of the sensations that Ravenw and Gryffindor had felt during their original journey.

    The descentsted for about two minutes, unimpeded and as swift as a meteor streaking across the sky. As they plunged ever deeper, the air around them underwent a dramatic transformation. The initial coolness of the upper passage gave way to an increasingly oppressive heat, a subtle burning sensation that seemed to sear the air they breathed, making Bryan wonder if the passage might lead them straight to the Earth''s core.

    <strong>Whoosh¡ª</strong>

    With a sudden whoosh that sent their robes fluttering wildly, the group reached the final curve of the passage. Thisst bend served as a natural brake, decelerating their meteoric descent to a more manageable speed. Gryffindornded with catlike grace upon the stone floor below. In a disy of both chivalry and practicality, he extended his muscr arm, his hand easily encircling Ravenw''s slender wrist helping her.

    As they regained their senses, the group found themselves standing in what appeared, at first nce, to be a rather unremarkable stone chamber. However, Bryan could still discern from the carving techniques on the stone walls roughly what era this structure was built in.

    A faint, ominous glow emanated from the corridor stretching out before them, bathing the chamber in an eerie, reddish light. While it bore a superficial resemnce to magical lighting, but considering the scorching heat in the air, it wasn''t hard to guess what was actually producing that glow.

    "That Madman!" Gryffindor eximed after surveying the surroundings for a moment. "He built hisir in the heart of avake, surrounded by so many magical detection shields. If we hadn''t been guided here, I daresay we would never have found this ce."

    Ravenw put her diadem back on her head. Her ice-blue pupils prated the barriers of the walls, seeing through many secrets. "The magical concentration in this environment is extremely high, far exceeding that of Hogwarts," she said calmly. "It''s the perfect ce for any wizard aiming to advance to the Final circle."

    <em>''Advance to the Final circle?''</em>

    Bryan''s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly at Ravenw''s words, a hint of surprise and intrigue shing across his features. With renewed focus, he carefully examined his surroundings.

    If Bryan was truly present here in person, he would undoubtedly discover more. Unfortunately, what was presented before him was just a memory, simr to the portrait. He had no way to sense more things. With no other choice, he could only firmly remember Ravenw''s words.

    "Let''s go, Godric. There are some things here that concern me. I must see them with my own eyes," Ravenw said, leaving the stone chamber without lingering.

    As they ventured deeper into this undergroundbyrinth, a palpable aura of malice seemed to seep from the very walls of the narrow corridor. The oppressive atmosphere weighed heavily upon them causing even the usually boisterous Sirius to fall uncharacteristically silent. Almost unconsciously, he reached out to grasp the hem of Bryan''s robe.

    Bryan, sensing the sudden tug on his robes, turned back with a look of mild surprise. "What''s troubling you?"

    Sirius hearing the question suddenly became aware of his actions, and quickly released his grip on Bryan''s robe. "It''s nothing!" he asserted, shaking his head as if to clear it of unwee thoughts. However, after a moment''s hesitation, he couldn''t help but voice the fears that had been gnawing at him.

    "Aren''t you... afraid?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know we''re just observing a memory, Bryan, but still..." His words trailed off as he cast another apprehensive nce at the narrow, ominously glowing passage that stretched out before them.

    After pondering for a moment, Bryan understood what Sirius was trying to express. He pursed his lips and smiled mysteriously, "You mean the environment here? Well, how should I put it... Most magical ruins dating back to ancient Greek times have this style. In recent years¡ªI mean before I returned to teach at Hogwarts¡ªI had explored some tomb ruins with relics, and they were all like this."

    Sirius, his eyes widening slightly at Bryan''s casual mention of tomb exploration, found himself grinding his teeth as he stared at Bryan''s back.

    <em>''Explore tomb ruins with relics?''</em> he thought to himself, a mixture of disbelief coloring his inner monologue. <em>''Isn''t that just a fancy way of saying he was grave robbing?''</em>

    As they continued their journey through the winding corridors of this undergroundplex, it became increasingly apparent that Bryan''s earlier assessment had been remarkably urate. The ruins buried deep beneath the surface of Azkaban Ind bore a striking resemnce to the ancient tombs he had explored in his past adventures.

    Their path took them through a seemingly endless series of twisting passages, asionally opening up into chambers simr to the one they had initially encountered. Those rooms were shrouded in darkness, making it impossible to see clearly what was inside. Interestingly, neither Gryffindor nor Ravenw showed any inclination to pause or investigate these shadowy chambers, suggesting that they held little significance to their current pursuit.

    As they progressed deeper into the heart of this maze, Bryan''s noticed clear evidence of protective magic having once been employed throughout theplex. However, these ancient wards and enchantments nowy in ruins, their power long since shattered by some unknown force. It required little deductive reasoning to surmise who might have been responsible for dismantling these magical defenses.

    With each step they took, the reddish glow that had been their constantpanion since entering this underground realm grew steadily more intense. The air around them became increasingly oppressive, thick with heat and an almost tangible sense of ancient, slumbering power. Although Gryffindor and Ravenw''s expressions remained calm as they strode forward, beads of sweat had formed on their foreheads.

    Sirius, who was so depressed by the dull atmosphere that he could not say a word, while Bryan remained lost in thought throughout the journey.

    <strong>Soul-splitting wizards¡ªHorcruxes¡ªDementors¡ª</strong>

    Over the course of the past year, he had many spections regarding the true identity of the shadow lurking within Morgan le Fay''s body shown in the nine murals on Avalon Ind. So, when Gryffindor mentioned the name ''Herpo The Foul'' with a weary sigh, Bryan wasn''t particrly surprised. It just confirmed the suspicions he had long harbored.

    However, the hidden content in the other information exchanged between Ravenw and Gryffindor was worth pondering deeply.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    Suddenly, a faint but distinct rumbling sound emanated from somewhere ahead of them, causing the very air around them to vibrate with ominous energy. Gryffindor and Ravenw immediately quickened their pace, moving swiftly towards the source of the disturbance and the increasingly bright light.

    "Bryan¡ª" Sirius called out, his voice strained and filled with aplex mixture of emotions. Having spent so much time in Bryan''spany, he had developed an almost supernatural sense of when they were about to face something truly extraordinary¡ªor terrifying.

    "Madness¡ª" Bryan just shook his head, uttering this word before falling silent.

    As they crossed the threshold of the final doorway, the world before them erupted into a sea of crimson light so intense it was almost painful to observe. After traversing the long, shadowy corridor, their eyes struggled to adapt to this sudden, blinding radiance. For several long moments, they could do nothing but squint against the overpowering radiance.

    When their pupils finally adjusted to the hellish glow, the scene that greeted them left not only Bryan and Sirius utterly speechless but also caused the two legendary Hogwarts founders to draw sharp, ragged breaths.

    Before them stretched an extremely huge cave, even more vast than the cave in Slytherin''s Chamber of Secrets that concealed that unopenable door!

    Everything in sight glowed a dazzling red, and the air in view distorted violently.

    Gryffindor and Ravenw had both cast spells on themselves to resist the high temperature of the environment.

    Behind the door was a small, not particrly spacious t stone tform, with the edge being a cliff.

    Sirius, driven by curiosity that overpowered his fear, was the first to approach the cliff. As he peered over the edge, his face twisted as if he had seen a huge dementor.

    Two miles below, a vastke of moltenva churned and boiled. From this sea of liquid fire, colossal pirs of me periodically erupted, shooting skyward. As these titanic columns of fire exploded in the air high above, the sound they produced was eerily simr to the earth-shattering roar of an enraged dragon. The resulting disy, a cataclysmic ballet of golden-red fire raining down like ''fireworks'' from the cave''s distant ceiling, might have been considered breathtakingly beautiful were it not so utterly terrifying.

    The heat emanating from this inferno was so intense that the rocks lining the shore of thevake were in a constant state of flux, melting and reforming in a never-ending cycle of destruction and creation. Over eons, this process had carved out the cavern''s unique shape¡ªa colossal, roughly circr space simr to an enormous, narrow-mouthed vessel with a bulbous body.

    "How... how is this even possible?" Sirius managed to rasp out, his face ashen and his entire body trembling as he struggled to grasp the scene before him. "How on earth did they do this... Is this still within wizard''s power?"

    Merlin had suspended Avalon Ind in the sky, while Herpo had dug a huge hole in hisir and brought upva.

    Shaking his head in a mixture of awe and disbelief, Bryan couldn''t help but wonder at the mindset of these ancient wizards. What drove them to push the boundaries of magic to such extremes? What price had been paid for power on this scale?

    "The concentration of magical energy here is... beyond anything I''ve ever encountered," Gryffindor observed, his voice barely audible over the constant rumble of theva below. He waved his hand through the scorching air, as if testing its properties. "This abnormal saturation of magical power... it emanates from thevake itself. It seems, Rowena, that our path forward is clear¡ªwe must find a way to get down there."

    "Get down there? You must be joking!" Gryffindor''s solemn words nearly made Sirius tumble headfirst into thevake. He trembled with fear as he watched the massiveva bubbles bursting on theke''s surface far below. In that moment, Sirius was absolutely certain that even the slightest contact with that molten inferno would mean instant, agonizing death.

    Bryan was also slightly shocked, though he was much calmer than Sirius. "Don''t worry, there must be some way," he said.

    Bryan was quite familiar with the patterns of such ruins. Although he couldn''t sense it, he was sure that this enormous cave must be filled with powerful sealing magic. Since Gryffindor said they needed to go down to thevake, there must be a correct path. If they tried to force their way through relying solely on their strength, the pirs of fire shooting up from thevake below would probably not be so ''gentle''!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0399 The Ruins

    0399 The Ruins

    <strong>Magic follows rules!</strong>

    If Gryffindor and Ravenw tried to bypass the rules and enter thevake below through sheer force, all the remaining defensive magic in this magical ruin would likely erupt instantly. In that case, the entire ind of Azkaban might even be overturned into the sea.

    Ravenw remained silent, her ice-blue pupils flickering with light as her gaze swept across the entire cave.

    "Have you found anything, Rowena?"

    Deciphering secrets was clearly not Godric Gryffindor''s forte. After ncing around the cave a few times, he frustratingly gave up searching and ced his hope on Ravenw.

    Bryan and Sirius both turned their attention to Ravenw. They knew she would certainly find a path to the boilingvake, but they were curious about how she would aplish it.

    As Bryan gazed at the profile of this powerful and beautiful legendary witch, his brow suddenly furrowed.

    Since boarding the ship with the two Hogwarts founders, Bryan had been overwhelmed by one secret after another, leaving him no energy to properly observe the diadem worn by this legendary witch.

    To outsiders, Ravenw''s diadem might be considered a famous artifact with precious historical value. But In reality, none of the relics left by the Four Founders were simple. For instance, as Ravenw was immersed in thought, her Diadem of Wisdom constantly flickered with crystalline light, clearly providing her with some form of assistance.

    Long moments passed, filled only with the ominous rumbling of theva far below and the barely perceptible hum of magic that permeated the very air around them. Then, almost imperceptibly at first, a smile began to touch Ravenw''s lips.

    "I''ve recalled something Szar once shared with me,"

    Gryffindor''s eyebrows rose in interest, his earlier frustration giving way to curiosity. "Oh? And what might that be?"

    It was in this moment that Bryan realized the rtionship between Gryffindor and Slytherin was far better thanter historical ounts would have made people believe. There was no trace of the rumored animosity or disgust in Gryffindor''s voice as he spoke of Slytherin, but he rather asked with great interest.

    Ravenw''s eyes sparkled as she continued, "Szar once told me that the earliest recorded Parselmouth in magical history was none other than Herpo the Foul himself."

    Gryffindor''s expression shifted to one of dawningprehension, tinged with a hint of regret. "You mean to say¡ª" he began, before shaking his head regretfully. "I should have dragged that secretive old serpent out of his gloomy dungeon far earlier."

    Bryan''s brow furrowed as well, suddenly remembering how the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

    "It''s alright¡ª" Ravenw blinked offering a reassuring smile. "I once asked Szar to teach me some rudimentary Parseltongue. While I''m not fluent in Parseltongue, I did take the precaution of recording several key phrases and incantations."

    Sirius, who had remained uncharacteristically silent throughout much of their journey, suddenly spoke up.

    "Harry''s a Parselmouth too, isn''t he?"

    Upon receiving confirmation of this fact, Sirius fell silent once more, muttering something under his breath that the Bryan couldn''t quite catch.

    Parseltongue was widely regarded as an eerie, dark, and obscurenguage ¨C a tongue associated with some of the most sinister chapters in magical history. Yet, as the sybles flowed from Ravenw, they carried an almost ethereal quality. The hissing sounds, at first barely audible, grew in volume and intensity over the span of several seconds. Soon, the hissing overpowered even the thunderous roar of thevake below, filling the cave with a sound that was at once terrifying and strangely beautiful.

    For a breathless moment, nothing happened. Then, with a sound like the world itself being torn apart, the churning sea ofva below began to move. The molten rock split open, forming a chasm so vast and terrifying that it seemed to defy the veryws of nature. From this newly formed gap rose two colossalva waterfalls, their seething, surging magma emitting a light so intense that it rivaled the sun itself in its terrible brilliance.

    The group found themselves momentarily blinded, forced to shield their eyes against the overwhelming radiance. As their vision slowly adjusted, they witnessed a sight that would be forever seared into their memories: amidst the blinding, apocalyptic glow, a staircase was slowly rising from the depths. Step by step, it ascended towards the edge of the cliff where they stood, presenting a path into the very heart of thisvake.

    The sheer magnitude of the magical disy before them was almost too much for their minds to process.

    Sirius, already pushed to his limits by the trials they had endured, felt his grasp on this world of memories beginning to slip. An intense wave of dizziness washed over him, causing his body to appear translucent and ethereal for a moment. It seemed as though the overwhelming sensory input had triggered signs of awakening in his real consciousness, threatening to tear him away from this world of memories.

    Bryan patted Sirius on the shoulder, but his ownplexion was equally grim.

    Herpo the Foul ¨C a name that still sent shivers down the spines of witches and wizards a millennium after his reign of terror. He was the only Dark Wizard from ancient Greek times whose infamy still persisted in the world. Beyond the creation of the first Horcrux and the development of blood curses that still gued magical bloodlines to this day, Herpo''s shadow loomedrge over the entire field of dark magic. In the current wizarding world, those immensely powerful and extremely evil dark magic of unclear origin were still habitually attributed to Herpo''s head.

    From this, one could imagine how many lives this character must have destroyed during his active years.

    Gryffindor''s face was contorted with rage as he drew his sword. His overwhelmingly powerful aura even pushed back the pervasive heat. He was about to strike when Ravenw suddenly stopped him.

    "Stop, Godric¡ª"

    Facing the enraged Gryffindor, Ravenw gently shook her head.

    The staircase that now stretched from their position at the top of the cliff down into the roiling sea ofva was not constructed of stone, nor was it formed from any precious metals or rare magical materials. Instead, the hundreds of steps ¨C each easily ten feet wide and descending towards the molten depths below ¨C were crafted entirely from severed pairs of hands.

    These hands, unnaturally lifelike and somehow maintaining a disturbing moisture despite the intense heat, were immediately recognizable to the horrified onlookers.

    They were not the hands of wizards, but those of house-elves!

    As if this gruesome disy were not enough, the sides of each step floated a head¡ªhouse-elf heads!

    Most horrifying of all, these severed heads still bore the humble, servile smiles they had worn in life. Their mouths were slightly open, with heads tilted slightly downward as if bowing to the owner of the ruins!

    Herpo the Foul had used the hands of house-elves to create steps and their heads as handrails!

    How utterly contemptuous of life this person was!

    House-elves, while not universally treated with kindness, were still an active and integral part of the wizarding world. Many served pure-blood wizard families, passing from generation to generation as prized (if often mistreated) possessions. Others, like those who staffed the kitchens of Hogwarts, servedrger magical institutions.

    These little creatures took pride in serving wizards, considering it the meaning of their lives. This distorted notion was imprinted on their very souls, which is why they were viewed as property rather than living beings by the wizards who used them.

    But Bryan was certain that even in today''s wizarding world, those pure-blood supremacist families who had inherited such harshness and prejudice would find it hard not to be moved by this sight!

    "Kreacher..."

    With Bryan''sfort, Sirius''splexion finally improved somewhat, but he still covered his mouth.

    "What would Kreacher say if he saw this?" Sirius whispered, breathing heavily. But then he shook his head answering his own question,

    "Kreacher would probably consider this the highest honor. He dreams of having his head cut off after death and hanging it next to my mother''s portrait."

    Fierce anger shed in Bryan''s eyes.

    House-elves were not unfamiliar magical creatures to him, but in the past, he had indeed not paid much attention to these beings. However, this horrific sceneid out before him had served as a brutal awakening.

    Wasn''t this too absurd?

    Look at the goblins, the centaurs, werewolves, vampires, leprechauns, ve, and even gnomes!

    What other species would embrace such an extreme philosophy of existence? What twisted circumstances could lead an entire race to consider absolute very to another species as the highest expression of their lives''s purpose?

    "Helga would likely be driven to the brink of madness if she were to witness this atrocity,"

    Gryffindor''s voice was thick with emotion. He had sheathed his sword, recognizing that destroying the staircase would only trap them at the top of the cliff. Yet the act of restraint seemed to pain him physically, his hand still resting on the hilt of his weapon as if longing to strike out against this monument to cruelty.

    Gryffindor''s eyes took on a distant look. "Helga has always wanted to remove the vicious curse on these little ones. If she saw the torture these little fellows endured, she''d probably go mad with rage."

    Bryan found his mind wandering to the wizarding world he knew - a thousand years ahead from this time, but in many ways still grappling with the same prejudices and injustices. While the treatment of house-elves had undoubtedly improved in some respects, it was still far from what one might consider humane or just. One can imagine what kind of life these little ones lived in the closed wizarding society of a thousand years ago, where honor and bloodline were still mainstream.

    Among the four close friends who had founded Hogwarts, Helga Hufflepuff had always been renowned for her gentle nature and boundless kindness. It was not difficult to imagine that she alone might have extended herpassion to these humble, pitiful creatures that others overlooked or disdained.

    "The origins of house-elves have long been shrouded in mystery," Ravenw said, her eyes never leaving the grotesque staircase before them. "Since the earliest days of organized wizarding society, these creatures have been serving wizards. Yet almost no one in our time has thought to find about their true origins.

    Now, faced with this abomination, I fear we may have stumbled upon a truth more horrific than we could have imagined. It seems likely that they were created here, brought into existence as ves."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0400 Evil

    0400 Evil

    <strong>Herpo the Foul</strong>¡ªto Sirius, it was just another name from the dusty pages of magical history, albeit one that sent shivers down the spines of those who truly knew its significance. His name was etched in faded ink on the yellowed title pages of numerous dark magic tomes, hidden away in Hogwarts''s Library''s Restricted Section. But why should anyone worry about a dark wizard who died two thousand ago?

    However, as Sirius followed the memories of two legendary Hogwarts founders through this nightmarish underworld, he realized just how terribly wrong he had been!

    Horcruxes¡ªthe very word tasted like ash in his mouth. The concept of splitting one''s soul, tearing apart the very essence of one''s being to achieve a twisted form of immortality¡ªcould the human soul truly be divided like a piece of parchment?

    That''s what Godric Gryffindor himself had said with a grave expression. Sirius''s mind reeled, unable to fully grasp the horror of it all. But the earth-shattering revtion that Dementors¡ªthose soul-sucking abominations that had tormented him for over a decade in Azkaban¡ªwere once wizards who had excessively split their souls... it shook him to his very core, leaving him feeling as though the ground beneath his feet had turned to quicksand.

    And then there was Rowena Ravenw''s chilling im that house-elves were likely Herpo''s creation. To create an entire race of intelligent life through the sheer power of magic¡ªSirius couldn''t begin to fathom the level of magical prowess and twisted ambition required for such a feat.

    "Bryan?" Sirius''s voice was barely more than a hoarse whisper, heavy with the weight of these terrible revtions.

    They finally stepped onto a staircase that made Sirius''s stomach churn with disgust. Each step was crafted from the twisted hands of house-elves, their bony fingers interlocked in a parody of unity.

    Walking on such a grotesque path, it was impossible for anyone sane to maintain even a semnce ofposure. They did their utmost to avoid gazing at the sides of the staircase, where the faces of the elves, frozen in death maintained their characteristic expressions of humility and fawning subservience. The group descended in a silence so thick it was almost suffocating.

    Sirius, his face now ashen and drawn with a mixture of horror and dawning realization, suddenly broke the oppressive silence.

    "You''ve been investigating Herpo all along, haven''t you?"

    Bryan, caught off-guard by the directness of the question, was momentarily stunned into silence. After a long silence, he nodded gently.

    "But¡ªcould it be!" Sirius began urgently, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. However, the memory of the earlier conversation between the two Hogwarts founders suddenly shed through his mind, causing his face to grimace with a new level of horror.

    "This... this monster is still alive?!" The words came out as a strangled gasp, as if Sirius''s very breath had been stolen by the terrifying possibility.

    "I suspect so," Bryan said expressionlessly, seeming to be in a bad mood.

    "Alive for two thousand years?!" Sirius''s voice cracked, distorted by disbelief and fear. "And when we first arrived, Ravenw and Gryffindor mentioned Merlin¡ª what''s all this about?"

    But this time, Bryan offered no response. His gaze was fixed intently on the roiling sea ofva below them, his eyes narrowed as if he had spotted something significant in the molten inferno.

    "Fine¡ª" Sirius began, realizing that Bryan was clearly unwilling to answer these pressing questions. He reluctantly fell silent, biting back the torrent of inquiries threatening to spill forth. But after a few seconds of tense silence, he couldn''t help but mutter under his breath,

    "Looking at the nightmarish situation here, I''m starting to think Voldemort isn''t quite so dangerous after all. Merlin''s beard, what have we stumbled into?"

    There were indeed objects floating in theva¡ªthe bleached bones of creatures whose flesh had long since been incinerated by the intense heat. Most of them were unrecognizable. But Bryan could still discern that one massive set of remains belonged to a dragon. The bones of this beast were far thicker and more robust than any dragon species he had encountered before, implying at some kind of primeval dragon ancestor that time had forgotten.

    It became apparent that Herpo was using this vastke ofva as a kind of magical incinerator, a ce to dispose of evidence or failed experiments perhaps. Everyone''s attention was drawn to the various remnants bobbing in the bubblingva, most of them mercifully iplete. Considering that these creatures'' remains had been soaking in the molten rock for well over a dozen centuries without beingpletely consumed, one could only imagine with a sense of dread how formidable and terrifying they must have been when alive.

    They descended to a level even with theva, separated from the churning molten rock by only a thin, shimmering magical barrier. As theva flowed in hypnotic patterns, unmelted creature bones constantly struck the barrier with sickening thuds, carried by the fiery waves. Even though they knew that the barrier would hold, it still made their hearts race and their palms sweat.

    Gryffindor and Ravenw no longer conversed with each other They quickened their pace forward, and finally, after what felt like an eternity but was likely only about ten minutes, they stood before a massive jet-ck door at the very bottom of thevake.

    The door was an imposing monolith of obsidian-like stone, its surface adorned with several colossal snakes that seemed to writhe and coil across its face. The serpents'' eyes, iid with some sort of glowing gemstone, gazed down at the intruders with an unsettling intelligence. Their mouths gaped open, revealing rows of venomous fangs that seemed to drip with ghostly poison, sending shivers down the spines of all who observed them.

    "Basilisks¡ª" Bryan murmured softly, his voice barely audible over the bubbling of theva. He didn''t want to dwell on the implications, knowing all too well the deadly power of those mythical serpents. And, he also knew how to open the door.

    <strong>Hiss¡ª</strong>

    Ravenw once again used Parseltongue. As she spoke, Bryan''s eyes shed keenly, his sharp mind carefully memorizing every nuance and strange intonation of the sounds. He knew this knowledge might prove crucial in the future.

    <strong>Hum¡ª</strong>

    With a heavy rumbling sound, the darkness that bloomed before them quickly swallowed the dazzling light emitted by theva.

    The difference on either side of the threshold was as stark as night and day, like crossing between two entirely separate realms of existence. The chamber they entered bore an eerie resemnce to the entrance hall thate first of Hogwarts'' Great Hall.

    In this cavernous, gloomy room that seemed to stretch endlessly upward, they felt no hint of the scorching heat that had assaulted them moments before. Instead, the damp air carried a bone-deep chill¡ªa chill that had been perfectly preserved in Gryffindor and Ravenw''s memories, which Bryan and Sirius could now feel as if they were truly there, transported across the centuries.

    "There are Dementors here!"

    The trauma from his over a decade of imprisonment in Azkaban proved too great for Sirius to bear. Upon feeling this horribly familiar chill seep into his very bones, he instinctively curled in on himself, shivering uncontrobly. His eyes darted about, seeking escape, and for a moment he seriously considered transforming into his Animagus form.

    <strong>ng!</strong>

    After they had all crossed the threshold into the hall, the massive door swung shut behind them with a sound like a funeral bell. There was no visible light source around them, except for the faint, ghostly starlight that filtered down from the domed ceiling high above. Opposite where they stood, another tall stone door loomed ominously. Its cracks and the gap beneath it continuously spewed forth tendrils of white, mist-like vapor that carried that bone-chilling cold.

    Gazing directly at this door, everyone shared a moment of grim realization¡ª they had probably reached the core of this underground ruins.

    As they approached, therge door opened automatically, finally revealing a room as grand as the temple hall on the Isle of Avalon.

    Gryffindor raised his sword for the third time sincending on the ind, but once again, Ravenw stopped him.

    "It''s pointless, Godric¡ª" Ravenw''s voice was heavy with resignation, her beautiful face marred by lines of exhaustion and gloom. "We''ve already tried, remember? We cannot destroy these... these abominations."

    "What on earth is this?"

    Sirius''s voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes wide with astonishment as he stared into the vast hall. His chaotic thoughts whirled unable to form any rational judgment.

    <strong>Sigh¡ª</strong>

    Bryan heaved a deep sigh, his face heavy, "I suppose... this is the Dementors''s processing nt''¡ª"

    The sight that greeted them in the enormous hall was as beautiful as it was terrifying. From the stone door where they entered to as far as the eye could see on the opposite side, every few steps floated a mesmerizing, pearly white halo. These ethereal rings hovered a few feet above the ground, pulsing gently with an inner light. Like a vast field of dazzling nebe suspended in the cold, deste expanse of the cosmos, they were hypnotically beautiful.

    While nebe nurture the stars, the halos before them vaguely revealed the outlines of iplete human forms.

    Gryffindor, his face set in grim determination, stretched out a hand. It passed through one of the nearest halos, disturbing the luminous particles that driftedzily through the gloomy air like yful stars. But there was nothing yful about the founder''s expression as he turned to hispanion.

    "Are these... the soul energies stolen from the living beings in the nearby seas?" Gryffindor asked, his voice heavy with the weight of terrible certainty. After Ravenw confirmed this chilling conclusion with a solemn nod, Gryffindor shook his head and sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging beneath an invisible burden.

    "Beautiful souls bing the cradle of evil. We must stop Herpo from manifesting, otherwise all magical and Muggle civilizations alike will face utter annihtion."

    Ravenw seemed to see deeper connections. She sighed as well; her melodious voice tinged with sorrow. "These soul energies... theye from the Dementors we encountered above. Those foul creatures ughter sentient beings, absorbing their power, only to transmit it here to nurture more of their kind."

    Sirius''s face had gone from ashen to nearly translucent, the blood draining from his features as the full horror of the situation dawned on him. At a nce, there appeared to be about a thousand Dementor embryos suspended in the vast hall, each one a ticking time bomb of malice.

    If all these Dementors were to be born, to surge forth into the world above... it would spell certain doom not just for the wizarding world, but for all of humanity.

    The thought was almost too terrible to consider.

    As they ventured deeper into the chamber, the broken souls within the halos grew increasingly defined, more closely resembling the familiar and dreaded form of fully-formed Dementors. When they reached the innermost sanctum of this unholy nursery, the ck shadows within the halos were already moving about restlessly in their ''eggshells,'' like chicks preparing to hatch. Sensing the approach of Gryffindor and Ravenw¡ªthey eagerly struck at the boundaries of the hotbeds that nurtured them.

    Ravenw halted her steps,ing to a stop before a nearly mature embryo. Her ice-blue gaze, sharp as a razor''s edge, continuously analyzed the origins and nature of these budding Dementors. But as her observation continued, her expression grew increasingly gloomy.

    "Herpo¡ªhe cultivated these colorless, fragmented souls in this manner to create virtually indestructible beings. Through this perversion of nature and magic, he has ultimately given rise to such a unique evil species."

    Ravenw turned her prating gaze to Gryffindor.

    "And for us, our path is clear. We must destroy every single individual of this species, down to thest embryo. If we leave even one alive, if a single Dementor escapes to propagate anew... we will have failedpletely, and the world as we know it will be lost."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0401 The Tale

    0401 The Tale

    Bryan stood motionless in the great hall, his eyes scanning the vast expanse where the Dementors were being bred. The sight before him was both terrifying and mesmerizing. Luminous auras, reminiscent of brilliant, swirling nebe in the boundless dark cosmos, danced around him, casting eerie, ever-shifting shadows on the ancient stone walls.

    Since his encounter with the woman named Cliodna, a maelstrom of thoughts had been churning relentlessly in Bryan''s mind. Each new discovery in this forsaken ce was like an intricate puzzle piece, slowly uniting in his consciousness to form aplete, disturbing, story.

    This grand picture was nearlyplete, but itcked the most crucial piece¡ªwhy were all these secrets revolving around him?

    Solving this riddle would essentially allow Bryan to uncover most of the truth behind the entire affair.

    "When I was imprisoned in Azkaban," Sirius began, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the oppressive silence, "there weren''t nearly as many Dementors on the ind as we just saw up there. And certainly not as many as down here¡ª"

    "One hundred and sixty-two," Bryan interjected, his expression remaining impassive as he calmly continued. "ording to the official Azkaban records released by the Ministry of Magic this March, that''s the current number of Dementors. Ten years ago, there were one hundred and sixty, and ten years before that, one hundred and fifty-nine."

    He paused, allowing the information to sink in before continuing, "To this day, the Ministry hasn''t been able to determine exactly how Dementors reproduce. Leading magical academics and researchers believe these creatures multiply through a process simr to self-division. They theorize that once a Dementor has absorbed a sufficient quantity of happy memories from its victims, it bes capable of reproducing."

    How Dementors were bred was no longer a matter of spection; the scene before them provided the answer. Sirius blinked rapidly, his mind racing as he pondered the implications of what Bryan had just said about the increase in Dementor numbers over the years.

    Noticing Sirius''s furrowed brow, Bryan exined. "Over a decade ago, after Voldemort''s downfall, Death Eaters and their outer circle of followers were rounded up and thrown into Azkaban en masse. This sudden influx of prisoners likely meant that the Dementors no longer had to worry about going hungry. Their food source became abundant. Consequently, their poption growth elerated."

    Within the expansive ruins, numerous rooms remained unexplored. Rowena Ravenw and Godric Gryffindor, driven by a sense of urgency, had headed straight for what they believed to be the core area. The room they now upied was undoubtedly the heart of the ruins.

    As they stood there, everyone''s attention was drawn to a small door on the right side of the chamber. It stood partly open, presumably leading to another chamber.

    "Let''s go, Rowena¡ª" Gryffindor''s voice cut through the silence, his usually energetic tone now somber. He called out to Ravenw and turned towards the small door, his hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of his sword.

    Bryan and Sirius followed closely behind, both men sharing an unspoken premonition that the memory they were experiencing was drawing to its conclusion.

    Beyond the doory a passage that, while not particrly long, seemed to stretch endlessly before them. Solid rock walls, slick with moisture and adorned with strange, phosphorescent fungi, nked both sides. At the far end, barely visible in the gloom, stood another door. This one, unlike its matching part, showed obvious signs of forced entry. The wood was cracked and scarred, hanging precariously from rusted hinges.

    For several centuries, the two Hogwarts founders were likely the only wizards to have entered these ruins. Apart from them, probably only that wizard shrouded in mythical lore had entered this ce.

    They entered the room behind the damaged door one after another, their footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. As Bryan crossed the threshold, a spark of interest flickered in his eyes, which had been dull for most of the day. Rowena Ravenw showed a simr reaction.

    This new chamber was another spacious room, but unlike the others. Around the walls, intricately carved wooden shelves held a small portion of ancient books. But it was the vast majority of parchment manuscripts, stacked haphazardly on tables and overflowing from cubby holes, that drew the eye. The air was thick with the musty scent of old paper and ink, a smell that seemed to awaken something in both Bryan and Ravenw.

    "Herpo''s collection of books?" For the first time since arriving on the ind, genuine enthusiasm soared in Ravenw''s voice. She walked over quickly, her robes swishing around her ankles, and reached out to grab a particrly interesting book (for her). Its cover was stained with what appeared to be dark, dried blood.

    But as her fingertips brushed against the ancient leather, the book suddenly crumbled to dust, leaving only a wisp of pungent smoke curling around Ravenw''s slender fingers.

    "When Merlin entered this library, he destroyed its defensive magic. These books have been without any protection for hundreds of years and have basically disintegrated."

    Gryffindor''s face broke into a slightly mischievous, schadenfreude-tinged smile at witnessing his friend''s disappointment. Sirius, picking up on the moment of lightheartedness, grinned and patted the shoulder of Bryan, whose face had once again darkened.

    Besides the bookshelves lining the walls, the library contained numerous desks arranged in neat rows. Ravenw, learning from her earlier mistake, didn''t attempt to pick up any more books. Instead, her piercing gaze swept across the room, suddenly fixing on a particr spot. Her feet began moving again, gracefully weaving around the obstructing shelves towards that point of interest.

    In the center of the library stood a desk that immediately drew the eye. Unlike the others, this one was a stark, gleaming white. As they drew closer, it became apparent that the desk was not made of wood or stone, but from the bleached bones of some massive, unknown creature. The sight was both beautiful and horrifying, a testament to Herpo''s cruelty and magical prowess.

    Havinge this far into the heart of darkness, they were no longer shocked by such disys of Herpo''s malice. Ravenw approached the bone desk with unhurried steps, her gaze falling on a stack of manuscripts ced on its gleaming surface.

    The text on the first page of the manuscript was written in ancient runes. Both Ravenw and Bryan were quite proficient in this script, so, reading it wasn''t too challenging.

    "What does it say?" Sirius, who understood only somemon runic symbols, craned his neck, utterly bewildered by the strange patterns that danced before his eyes.

    "It seems to be about magic... or a ritual," Bryan began, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I''m not entirely sure. Thenguage is archaic, even for ancient runes. Wait, let me see¡ª"

    Learning from her previous lesson with the crumbling book, Ravenw didn''t attempt to turn to the second page of the manuscript. But it was evident that she had some way of reading the subsequent contents, her eyes moved weirdly as if scanning invisible pages.

    <strong>"Hallows."</strong>

    Unexpectedly, Ravenw suddenly uttered this word while fully engrossed in reading content that Bryan couldn''t see.

    "Hallows?" Gryffindor repeated, his brow furrowing as he searched through all his considerable knowledge of magic and alchemy-rted topics. Despite his vast knowledge, he came up empty-handed. "Is it some kind of evil magic, like Horcruxes?"

    <strong><em>''Hallows? The Deathly Hallows?''</em> </strong>Bryan''s brow creased slightly, a glimmer of recognition sparking in his eyes. This was something he had heard of before.

    "It''s the exact opposite of Horcruxes. You''re right, Godric, this is indeed a very evil magic, and it''s extremely dangerous."

    Ravenw said, her voice heavy with the weight of her discovery. "The fact that this notebook still remains here is significant. After we return, I indeed need to spend some time studying it."

    "Hallows... I think my father mentioned something about that to me and Regulus when he was alive¡ª"

    Surprisingly, Sirius had also heard something about this. He blinked rapidly, his face tinged with confusion as he struggled to recall the details of a long-ago conversation.

    "It originally came from ''The Tale of the Three Brothers'' in ''The Tales of Beedle the Bard''..." Sirius thought aloud, his voice growing stronger as the memories solidified. Then, a look of realization appeared on his face. "But Gryffindor and Ravenw are much older than Beedle, right? Oh! The Hallows!"

    Sirius suddenly eximed, his voice echoing off the ancient stones, "The legend of the three brothers... Don''t tell me the Death in that story is actually Herpo!"

    "Stories and truths often diverge greatly, but as it stands, the Hallows seem inextricably linked to Herpo. Moreover, the Hallows might actually exist," Bryan said thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming thinking about something.

    A few more minutes passed in tense silence, broken only by the asional rustle of Ravenw''s robes as her eyes brushed over the ancient texts. She seemed to have an ability to memorize all the contents of the parchment stack, as her eyes moved at an inhuman speed across the pages.

    Finally, she looked up, surveying the surrounding bookshelves with a look of regret in her eyes. It was clear that, given enough time, she could have memorized the contents of all the books and manuscripts in this vast library. Unfortunately, she clearly didn''t have the time to stay here and transcribe all these magical texts.

    "Let''s go, Godric," Ravenw said atst, her voice tinged with reluctance. "Let''s check out the room behind the library. That''s thest chamber."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0402 The Last Room

    0402 The Last Room

    The legend of the Deathly Hallows was neither a widely circted story nor a closely guarded secret in the wizarding world.

    Bryan had read "The Tales of Beedle the Bard," a famous wizarding children''s book, during his time at Hogwarts. He wasn''t particrly interested in the stories themselves but read them purely to deepen his understanding of the Wizarding world.

    The tale of the three brothers, which contained the origins of the Deathly Hallows, had initially failed to leave asting impression on Bryan. In a world brimming with magical wonders and extraordinary feats, this particr story seemed to blend into the background, lost amidst a sea of simr other tales of cunningly outwitting powerful beings. He had dismissed it as just another fable, designed to impart moral lessons to impressionable young minds.

    Years passed, and Bryan''s magical journey took him far beyond the walls of Hogwarts. It was during one suchmission in Germany that Bryan''s perspective on the Deathly Hallows underwent a dramatic shift.

    In this region, the tale had taken on a life of its own. It wasn''t just amon bedtime story or a moral fable; it had evolved into an obsession that gripped the imaginations of witches and wizards alike. The search for the three legendary artifacts ¨C the Elder Wand of unparalleled power, the Invisibility Cloak that could shield one from even Death''s gaze, and the Resurrection Stone that could bring back the dead.

    Bryan found himself both intrigued and confused by the eagerness with which the local magicalmunity pursued these mythical objects.

    As he spent time his time among them, Bryan couldn''t help but recall an old saying.

    Where there''s smoke, there''s fire.

    Despite this realization and the tantalizing possibility that these powerful Mythical objects might actually exist, Bryan made a conscious decision not to join the frenzied search.

    This was because pursuing these powerful alchemical objects didn''t align with his magical philosophy. To him, all the Deathly Hallowsbined were less valuable than a single book that could provide deep insights into the evolution of spell structures.

    However, fate had a way of intertwining even the most disparate threads of magical lore.

    In a twist that Bryan could never have anticipated, he learned that these items had appeared in the era when Herpo was active and appeared in the memory that Ravenw and Gryffindor had deliberately showed him.

    Bryan took a long deep look at the manuscript on the table before following the two founders into the final room.

    "Whoa!"

    As they walked into thest of this series of secret chambers, Sirius immediately eximed in awe.

    Gone were the stone walls and flickering torches of the previous chambers. In their ce stretched an endless expanse of star-studded darkness, a perfect replica of the night sky in all its celestial glory. The ground beneath their feet wasn''t solid brick or stone, but an unfathomable void. The abrupt transition from enclosed spaces to this boundless cosmic vista was shocking.

    Bryan raised his head, gazing at the dreamlike gxy in the far distance. Squinting at the fleeting, brilliant stars, he pondered thoughtfully,

    "This starry sky doesn''t seem to be fake,"

    Sirius, still struggling to grasp the magnitude of what he was witnessing, turned to Bryan with wide eyes. "What do you mean, Bryan?" he asked eagerly, a hint of childlike excitement creeping into his voice. "Are you saying we''ve been teleported into the universe?!"

    Bryan shook his head, his brow furrowed in concentration. "No, I mean this room seems to be mirroring the real sky outside. There''s no mistake; the positions and trajectories of the stars are real."

    He paused, his mind racing through possible exnations for this extraordinary feat of magic. "But why would Herpo do this? What''s the point of this?"

    As Bryan pondered these questions, he became deeply aware of the surreal nature of their surroundings. The magic at work here was unlike anything he had encountered before. It didn''t just create an illusion of the night sky; it seemed to have expanded the room to mirror the vast expanse of the cosmos.

    The ground beneath their feet, or rather the absence of it, added anotheryer of disorientation to their experience. Instead of solid stone or earth, they appeared to be standing on an unfathomable void. The sensation was unnerving, to say the least, as if they were suspended in the depths of space with nothing but magic preventing them from plummeting into the abyss.

    Ravenw was the first to test the boundaries of this extraordinary space. With a determined glint in her eye, she took a step forward, then another, moving away from the group and towards the upper right of Bryan''s position. To everyone''s amazement, she appeared to be walking on the the sky itself.

    "What have you found, Rowena?" Gryffindor called out, his voice a mixture of curiosity and concern. Without hesitation, he moved to follow her, his bold nature overriding any worry he might have felt.

    As they ventured further into this cosmic expanse, the true scale of the magic at work became apparent. The dazzling gxies and nebe that had initially captivated their attention now seemed impossibly distant, separated from them by light-years of cold, empty space. The immediate vicinity was dominated by an all-epassing darkness, broken only by the faint, distant twinkle of stars.

    This ce was almost identical to the real universe. Bryan found that even after walking for a while, he had no sense of progress or movement. The darkness around them remained constant, unchanging, creating an illusion of stasis that wreaked havoc with his perception of time and space.

    If this wasn''t an illusion ¨C and Bryan''s instincts told him it wasn''t ¨C then the implications were staggering. The room they had entered must have been expanded to an unimaginable extent.

    As they continued their seemingly endless journey through this magical cosmos, the oppressive nature of their surroundings began to take its toll. The boundless darkness, broken only by distant, unreachable points of light, created a sense of istion and insignificance that weighed heavily on their minds. Even Gryffindor, known for his unwavering courage, seemed passive by the overwhelming vastness of their environment.

    Sirius, in particr, was struggling with the oppressive atmosphere. He had been desperately trying to maintain hisposure, but the never-ending darkness and the feeling of being lost in an infinite void were pushing him to the brink of panic. His eyes darted frantically from one point to another, searching for anything that might break the monotony of their surroundings.

    It was in this state of near-desperation that Sirius''s keen eyes caught a glimmer of something different in the distance. At first, he thought it might be a trick of the light or his imagination ying cruel games with his tense mind. But as they drew closer, the object became more distinct, reflecting the faint starlight in a way that set it apart from the endless void.

    "There''s something over there!" Sirius called out, his voice cracking with a mixture of relief and excitement.

    Bryan, who had been worn out by this seemingly endless journey, quickly locked his gaze on the object that had caught Sirius''s attention. As the shape became clearer, he felt a wave of relief wash over him, grateful for any break in the monotonous expanse of darkness.

    Standing alone in the void, as if it had been waiting for them was an altar.

    As they approached, Bryan quickly assessed the structure. Its design was hauntingly familiar, simr to the altar he had encountered in the central temple of Avalon Ind, where the mystical Caduceus had been enshrined. It exuded an ancient historical aura in its simplicity. Apart from this, there was nothing particrly noteworthy about the altar. What truly aroused curiosity was the object standing upon it.

    A doorway. Or more urately, an archway.

    The archway appeared to have been cleaved from a single, massive stone. There were no seams on its rough surface, giving it an extremely simple and ancient appearance.

    What truly set this archway apart, however, were the tattered curtains that hung from its curve. These dark, transparent veils seemed to possess a life of their own. Despite theplete absence of wind or any discernible air current in their cosmic surroundings, the curtains floated and swayed gently, as if moved by unseen hands. The sight was both mesmerizing and deeply unsettling.

    As they gathered around the altar, a palpable chill settled over the group. Even Gryffindor, renowned for his boldness and often reckless courage, approached the archway with visible caution. His broad face, usually set in an expression of confident determination, now showed lines of concern as he climbed the stone steps leading to the altar.

    Gryffindor stood before the doorway; his brows furrowed in concentration as he stared intently at the opening. The space within the arch was not, as one might expect, a continuation of the starry void that surrounded them. Instead, it was filled with a thick, imprable darkness that seemed to absorb all light and hope. This was not merely an absence of light, but a presence of something else entirely sending shivers down their spines.

    After a moment''s consideration, Gryffindor drew his sword, slowly pointing its tip towards the darkness within the doorway.

    Just as the tip of the sword was about to breach the veil of darkness, Ravenw''s voice cut through the silence. "Don''t do that, Godric," she said, her tone carrying a note of warning. "Unless you want to lose your sword."

    Gryffindor, known for his impulsive nature, surprised them by heeding Ravenw''s advice. He slowly withdrew his sword, a look of intrigue recing the determination on his face. "Hmm¡ª" he pondered, his eyes never leaving the archway. "A very interesting feeling, Rowena. Nothing has ever made me feel this way before. It''s as if I''m facing¡ª"

    "Death¡ª" Ravenw finished his sentence, her voice barely above a whisper. She had moved to stand beside Gryffindor, her gaze fixing on the darkness within the doorway.

    "Ah, death¡ª" Gryffindor repeated, a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. The wariness in his eyes had disappeared, reced by a spark of intense interest. "Death is an adventure worth looking forward to."

    While Gryffindor seemed to find the prospect of facing death exhrating, not everyone shared his enthusiasm. Sirius, who had been hesitant to approach the altar from the beginning, now stood rooted to the spot on the stone steps, unwilling to take the final step that would bring him closer to the archway.

    "This door gives me a bad feeling¡ª" Sirius muttered, his face contorted in an expression of deep difort and fear. He looked at the stone door as if it might suddenly spring to life and swallow him whole.

    Bryan nodded in understanding, empathizing with Sirius''s uneasiness.

    Since it was a door, it should lead somewhere. So, where exactly did this door lead to?

    "This doorway is unusual. There should be records of it. Rowena, have youe across any mention of it in your books?"

    Ravenw shook her head, her brow furrowed in concentration. She stepped forward, slowly approaching the doorway. She reached out, her slender wrist brushing aside the floating veil that partially obscured the archway. As the dark fabric parted, it exposed the top of the door to everyone''s view, revealing a detail that had previously gone unnoticed.

    There, on the lintel of the archway, were three shallow dents. These indentations were far from uniform, each differing in size, shape, and depth. The irregrity of these markings stood in stark contrast to the otherwise smooth surface of the stone, drawing the eye and piquing their curiosity.

    Gryffindor, his interest thoroughly captured, leaned in closer. His eyes narrowed as he examined the indentations.

    "This is¡ª" he began, but found himself at a loss for words to describe what he was seeing.

    Ravenw, however, seemed to have already pieced together the puzzle. Her voice was calm as she spoke.

    "They should be coordinates¡ª"

    Gryffindor looked at her, waiting for her to borate. Ravenw''s eyes never left the archway as she continued, "Obviously, only when we find the coordinates and embed them here will the door truly open, revealing the world behind it to us."

    "What if we just barge in?"

    This question came from Sirius, and the only one present who could answer him was Bryan.

    "It''s hard to say¡ª"

    Bryan''s gaze had never left the archway since its discovery. Hearing Sirius''s question, his eyes flickered.

    "ording to Ravenw''s exnation, this is a... you can understand it as a portkey. Without the proper coordinates identally falling into the world behind the door would likely result in being banished to the void. It could be the cold, deste outer space, or a world filled with spatial turbulence. Full of uncertainties. In short, identally falling in would probably lead to death."

    A shudder ran through Sirius at these words. He retreated further down the stone steps, putting as much distance between himself and the ominous doorway as possible. In that moment, he made a silent vow to himself: if he ever encountered this type of thing again in the future, he would absolutely keep his distance.

    "I want to take this door back with us¡ª"

    Rowena Ravenw suddenly made a shocking decision. She looked at Gryffindor.

    "I have a feeling that this door is as crucial to us as destroying those evil creatures on the ind. Since we can''t destroy those creatures for now, we must at least ensure that this door remains safe until those creatures are annihted."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0403 The End of Memory

    0403 The End of Memory

    Gryffindor didn''t stop Ravenw from taking away the ominous-looking archway. They returned along the original route, passing through the library and the hall where Dementors were bred, returning to the upper levels via the chilling path made of house-elf hands and heads.

    When they emerged from the initial stone chamber back onto the ind, the gloomy sky of Azkaban had turned pitch ck.

    The Dementors restlessly roamed nearby, likely afraid of the massive stone pir still floating in mid-air, never daring to approach.

    Sirius, despite knowing full well that this was just a memory couldn''t help but release a long, shuddering sigh of relief as his feet touched the scorched earth once more. Perhaps because the experience below had broken his worldview, Sirius finally overcame some of his initial fears. As he stood there, feeling the coarse, lifeless soil beneath his feet, Sirius found himself gazing at the tall, eerie stone tower standing against the dark background, his eyes were filled withplex emotions.

    Six months ago, Sirius would have sworn that he would never regret his decision to ept imprisonment in this hellish ce. It had been his choice. But now, standing here in this memory-world, face to face with the tower that had stolen so many years from him, Sirius felt an overwhelming conflict raging within his heart.

    What had changed his mind wasn''t the harsh reality of his past experiences, but rather the stark contrast provided by the simple beauty of a normal life ¨C a life he had only recently begun to taste again.

    In the months since his escape, Sirius had encountered a world he had almost forgotten existed. He had met this exceptionally talented young wizard beside him, regained Remus''s friendship and, most importantly, reimed his own innocence and in the months at Hogwarts, he had met many pure and kind-hearted young witches and wizards.

    But perhaps the most significant change had been the opportunity to shoulder the responsibilities he should have borne long ago. Taking on the role of godfather to Harry, offering guidance and protection to the son of his best friend, had given Sirius a renewed sense of purpose. It was as if he had been given a second chance to make amends for past failures.

    As these thoughts swirled through his mind, Sirius realized that he no longer wished to dwell on whether his decision to ept imprisonment had been right or wrong. The past is unchangeable, and such contemtions served no purpose. Instead, his heart was filled with a fierce determination to protect the good things he now possessed ¨C his freedom, his friendships, and the chance to make a difference in the lives of those he cared about.

    While Sirius was lost in his self-examination, Ravenw''s voice suddenly cut through the oppressive silence, startling him back to the present moment.

    "I''m pondering a question, Godric¡ª" she began, her tone thoughtful and tinged with concern.

    Ravenw and Gryffindor, unlike Sirius, seemed to have little interest in the imposing spiral structure of Azkaban. They had spared it only a cursory nce, showing no inclination to explore its dark interior. Instead, their attention was focused on the magical anomalies they had discovered beneath the ind.

    Standing beneath the immense, rough-hewn stone pir that had sealed the underground chamber, Ravenw''s piercing gaze was fixed on its surface. Even in the dim light, the faint magical nodes etched into the stone were visible, pulsing with magical energy. She continued,

    "To hatch the embryos below, these creatures have been systematically draining the life force from the surrounding waters. But their hunger is insatiable, and they won''t be content with this limited feeding ground forever. To propagate their kind in greater numbers, they will inevitably leave this sea and encroach upon human society."

    Ravenw''s ice-blue eyes, usually sharp and calcting, now held a hint of genuine fear as she exined the dire consequences of their potential spread.

    "These beings have lost all capacity to discern between good and evil. Theyck even the most basic ability to restrain their voracious appetites. Their unchecked expansion will trigger a catastrophe of unprecedented scale, Godric. The Muggle world will be reduced to a helpless hunting ground, its inhabitants nothing more than prey waiting to be devoured. And we wizards, for all our magical prowess,ck the means to control them effectively."

    The scenario she painted was indeed nightmarish, a future that seemed all but inevitable unless they could find a way to eliminate all the Dementors before they grew beyond control. However, that very task presented an almost insurmountable challenge, given the creatures'' indestructibility and their ability to multiply.

    Gryffindor, his brow furrowed in deep concentration, took a moment to survey the ind. His eyes scanned the destendscape, taking in every detail as if searching for inspiration. After a thoughtful pause, he offered a suggestion, his voice carrying a note of cautious optimism:

    "This ind is enveloped by powerful magic left behind by Herpo to repel outsiders. Perhaps we could employ a simr strategy, Rowena. We could implement some measures to prevent these creatures from leaving the this ind."

    Ravenw, however, was quick to point out the ws in this n.

    "Ordinary magical barriers would prove utterly useless against them, Godric. These creatures operate on a fundamentally different magical principle. The only way to restrict their movement would be through direct suppression of their soul energy ¨C a feat that requires constant magical maintenance. And therein lies the crux of the problem: if we were to die, these measures would inevitably fail."

    Gryffindor''s frown deepened at this sobering assessment. He turned to Ravenw, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and determination. "What do you propose we do, then?" he asked, his voice low and serious.

    It was a very tricky problem, and Ravenw didn''t immediately provide an answer.

    After a long moment of contemtion, she spoke, her words measured and thoughtful: "I need more time to consider all the variables. Once we return to Hogwarts, I intend to study these creatures in greater depth. While it''s clear that Herpo''s original purpose in creating them wasn''t for torture and ughter, we must take decisive action to ensure these beings don''t spiral out of control."

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    A resounding boom echoed across the ind. The massive stone pir that had been hovering in the air slowly descended, sealing the deep hole in the ground once more.

    Ravenw approached the pir, her slender fingers brushing against its rough surface.

    "I can sense," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, "that there are objects onnd with the same magical fluctuations as this pir."

    Gryffindor, who had been listening intently, suddenly broke into a wide grin. He ran a hand through his fiery red hair, which had been tousled by the relentless sea breeze, and eximed with unbridled enthusiasm:

    "Leave the next expedition to me, Rowena! To be entirely honest, I find that adventures with youck a certain... excitement. You always manage to unravel every mystery before we''ve had a chance to truly explore. Where''s the thrill in that?"

    His yfulint was met with a look of mild disapproval from Ravenw. Her ice-blue eyes fixed on Gryffindor, conveying a seriousness that contrasted sharply with his jovial mood.

    "I hope you can face reality, Godric," she said, her tone carrying a hint of exasperation. "This is not some frivolous adventure we''re upon. Ever since Helga experienced those troubling visions and made her prophecy, everything we''ve done has been to prevent this world from eventually falling into eternal darkness."

    <strong>Coo-coo¡ª</strong>

    The ethereal call of an unseen bird echoed across the ind, its haunting melody at odds with the miserable surroundings. As the sound reverberated, a strange phenomenon began to unfold. The dark, ominous environment of Azkaban started to fade rapidly, as if being erased by an invisible hand.

    Gryffindor and Ravenw remained standing beneath the stone pir, their conversation continuing, but their voices became increasingly distant and dream-like. Their forms began to shimmer and blur, as if they were nothing more than mirages on the verge of disappearing.

    Panic gripped Sirius as he watched the world around him dissolve. The solid ground beneath his feet seemed to lose its substance, and the oppressive environment of Azkaban began to melt away.

    "What''s happening, Bryan?" Sirius called out; his voice tight with anxiety. He reached out instinctively, trying to grasp onto something solid, but his hands passed through the dissolving scenery as if it were made of mist.

    "As we anticipated earlier, we''ve been existing within either Ravenw''s or Gryffindor''s memory. Now that this memory has reached its end, it''s time for us to return to our own reality." Bryan replied, his expressionplex as he watched the Hogwarts founders gradually disappear into glowing silver threads.

    Bryan''s voice also sounded muffled in Sirius''s ears. He wanted to ask more questions, to understand better what was happening, but before he could form the words, a deafening thunderp shook the disintegrating world around them. In an instant, Sirius''s vision wentpletely dark, plunging him into a void of nothingness.

    The sensation was akin to suddenly sinking into the depths of a bottomless ocean. Sirius felt an overwhelming sense of suffocation and fear, his mind reeling as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. He struggled desperately, and then¡ª

    And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the darkness lifted.

    "Whoa!"

    With a startled cry, Sirius sat bolt upright, his sudden movement causing him to collide with something solid above him. There was a loud crash as he knocked open what appeared to be a door panel that had been pressing down on him.

    The unexpected impact sent a shock wave of pain through Sirius''s head, and for a moment, his newly recovered vision began to grow dark once again. He wobbled on the edge of consciousness, as the world spinned around him in a dizzying blur.

    After a few moments, Sirius''s vision began to clear. He found himself clutching his swollen forehead, wincing at the throbbing pain that radiated from the point of impact. With considerable effort, he managed to push away the bent door panel that had been pinning his legs.

    Staggering to his feet, Sirius took a moment to steady himself. As the world slowly came into focus, he lifted his gaze skyward, and was met with a sight that took his breath away.

    Above him, the night sky stretched out in an endless expanse of velvety ckness, studded with countless stars that twinkled like diamonds scattered across a dark cloth. The starlight was soft and graceful, a stark contrast to the oppressive darkness of Azkaban that still lingered in his mind.

    Sirius drew in a deep breath, savoring the crisp, salty air that filled his lungs. The sea around them was calm, its surface a mirror reflecting the starry sky above. The gentlepping of waves against the hull of their vessel was a soothing rhythm, sinking him in the present moment.

    A movement caught his eye, and Sirius noticed a few seabirds perched on the broken mast of their ship. The birds tilted their heads curiously, their beady eyes fixed on him as if trying to make sense of this strange, disheveled human who had suddenly appeared in their midst.

    It took Sirius several long moments to fully grasp his current situation. His mind was still reeling from the abrupt transition, struggling to reconcile the vivid memories of Azkaban with the peaceful night that now surrounded him.

    Turning his head, Sirius sought out Bryan, who had awakened a few steps ahead of him and was now standing by the ship''s rail. Bryan''s posture was rxed but alert, his gaze fixed on some distant point on the horizon. Curious, Sirius followed his line of sight.

    There, in the distance, an ind loomed. It was barely visible, shrouded in the only patch of dark clouds that marred the starry sky.

    "We made it in?" Sirius asked, his voice hoarse and uncertain.

    Bryan turned at the sound of Sirius''s voice, and it was then that Sirius noticed something extraordinary. In Bryan''s hands, gleaming softly in the starlight, were two objects that made Sirius''s breath catch in his throat.

    Ravenw''s diadem and Gryffindor''s sword!

    Sirius''s eyes widened to the point of pain; his gaze locked on the two legendary alchemical artifacts. He found himself holding his breath, as if afraid that the slightest movement or sound might cause these Mythical objects to vanish.

    "These are from the memory," Sirius breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He blinked rapidly, half-expecting the artifacts to disappear. But they remained solid and real in Bryan''s grasp.

    As the initial shock began to wear off, Sirius felt a bubble ofughter rise in his chest. It was a sound born of disbelief, amazement, and perhaps a touch of hysteria. He chuckled, shaking his head in wonder.

    "I bet if people knew you had these two items, Bryan," Sirius said, his tone casual despite the tremor in his voice, "you''d never have a moment''s peace again."

    The sarcasm was almostical. Sirius knew all too well the power these artifacts held, not just in terms of their magical properties, but in their historical and cultural significance. The wizarding world would be turned upside down if word got out that these long-lost treasures of the Hogwarts founders had resurfaced.

    Bryan''s response was a soft chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement and perhaps a hint of mischief. "Ha, there aren''t many wizards capable of taking things from me,"

    Their conversation was interrupted by a fluttering of wings. The seabirds that had been perched on the mast, apparently growing bolder, flew down tond on the ship''s rail near Bryan. Their slightly dim eyes held a hint of pleading as they gently pecked at his fingers, clearly hoping for food.

    Bryan''s demeanor softened as he observed the hungry birds. With a casual wiggle of his fingers several small fish, each about the size of a finger, suddenly materialized. They flew out of the scale-like waves, arcing through the air beforending with soft plops on the ship''s rail.

    The seabirds immediately erupted into a cacophony of joyful, low cries. They scrambled over each other, wings pping and beaks snapping as they fought to snatch up the unexpected feast. The scene was so normal, so mundane, that it created a surreal contrast with the magical artifacts and the lingering tension from their otherworldly experience.

    Sirius watched the squabbling birds in silence, his mind whirling with thoughts and questions. The simple act of kindness ¨C Bryan feeding the birds ¨C seemed to ground him, bringing him fully back to the present moment.

    After a few moments of contemtive silence, broken only by the sounds of the contented birds, Sirius spoke up.

    "I''ll keep what I''ve seen here a secret, Bryan¡ª"

    Bryan raised an eyebrow at this, turning to look at Sirius properly. Sirius met his gaze steadily, trying to convey the sincerity of his promise through his eyes alone.

    The moment stretched between them, filled with unspoken understanding. Then, unexpectedly, Bryan''s lips curved into a small smile. He shifted his gaze away from Sirius, looking out towards the distant silhouette of Azkaban. His fingers tapped gently on the ship''s rail, a rhythmic sound that seemed to match the echo of thepping of the waves against the hull.

    "No," Bryan said atst, his voice calm and measured. "I hope you can tell¡ª"

    Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise, a question forming on his lips. However, before he could speak, Bryan continued, cutting off any potential interruption.

    "But not now," Bryan added, his eyes still fixed on the horizon. His deep gaze seemed to pierce through space and time, as if seeing some distant future.

    "In the future, if one day I suddenly disappear and you urgently need to find me, then please tell Dumbledore everything you''ve seen¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0404 Out

    0404 Out

    In the gentle sea breeze, Bryan''s calm expression made Sirius startle.

    "What do you mean, Bryan?"

    As soon as the words left his mouth, Sirius realized he had asked Bryan this question many times tonight. But he quickly pushed that thought aside and asked solemnly, "Suddenly disappear... What exactly are you nning?"

    Bryan didn''t answer the question. He just smiled slightly, and his gaze was once again fixed on Azkaban.

    Seeing his demeanor, Sirius knew he probably wouldn''t get any answers. He stared at Bryan''s profile. Though barely in his twenties, the young man''s eyes carried a determination that did not match his age. The depth in his gaze was not something he could see through.

    "You''re incredible, Bryan¡ª" Sirius sighed, the words escaping him in a rush of breath. He reached out, patting Bryan''s shoulder. "I can''t think of any wizard who could possess such powerful magic at your age, probably not even Dumbledore. But I hope you understand¡ªthis is also the insight that twelve years in Azkaban gave me¡ªI, Remus, Dumbledore, ah, and even Snape, we''re all your friends. Even against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, understand? Bryan, if you need help..."

    The soft starlight bathed Bryan, softening the contours of his profile.

    Bryan''s voice, when he spoke, held a hint of amusement. "I don''t need a lecture from you, Sirius," he said, smoothly changing the subject. Before Sirius could formte a response, Bryan continued, "I need to go to Azkaban. That ce affects you too much; you should wait here."

    "You''re going up there again?" Sirius frowned. "Don''t tell me that memory we just experienced didn''t resolve your questions. Are you nning to check out that underground ruins? But how do you intend to get in? Oh, Ravenw''s diadem is in your possession."

    Under Sirius''s worried gaze, Bryan rose into the air until he disappeared from sight.

    Waiting, Sirius discovered, was an exquisite form of torture.

    For several hours, Sirius stood on the dpidated deck, staring anxiously in the direction of Azkaban. But the ce remained as silent as an abyss, without any sign of movement.

    Sirius''s mind raced with possibilities, each more terrifying than thest. He knew, rationally, that Bryan''s skills were extraordinary. If it had been an exploration of any other ce, Sirius wouldn''t have been so worried. But after experiencing the memories of Hogwarts'' two founders, Sirius realized that Azkaban was far more sinister and dangerous than anyone had ever imagined.

    It wasn''t until the starlight dimmed and first hints of dawn began to paint the eastern sky that Sirius''s vigil was rewarded. A shadow, skimming low across the sea''s surface, rapidly approached the ship. The sight allowed Sirius to finally release the breath he felt he''d been holding for hours.

    "How did it go? Did you encounter any problems?" The questions tumbled from Sirius''s lips the moment Bryan materialized on the deck. He rushed forward, eyes gathering over the young wizard''s form, searching for any sign of injury. Only when he was satisfied that Bryan was unharmed did Sirius allow himself to rx. But as he met Bryan''s gaze, he felt a jolt of surprise.

    "Your eyes¡ª" Sirius began, his words trailing off.

    "They''ve returned to their original color, haven''t they?" Bryan seemed to be in a good mood. He touched the corner of his eye, smiling as he spoke.

    "Well, as long as you''re alright¡ª" Sirius let the sentence hang, unfinished. He chose not to pursue the matter of whether Bryan had truly used Ravenw''s diadem to open the underground chamber, nor did he ask about Bryan''s activities during those long hours of absence. Seeing that the young wizard was unharmed was enough for now. Sirius shrugged, pushing aside his burning curiosity.

    Suddenly, a thought urred to Sirius, and his mood brightened considerably. "You''ve finished what you needed to do, right?" he asked, a note of excitement creeping into his voice.

    "Does this mean we can go back now? Oh, Harry must be waiting for me to pick him up for the Quidditch World Cup. How about it, Bryan? Want toe along? We''ll pick up Harry first. Remus is probably getting impatient waiting at the old house; he and Kreacher don''t get along at all. We all agreed before the summer holiday to stay at the Weasleys for a few days, then take all these youngsters to watch the Quidditch World Cup!"

    Sirius looked at Bryan eagerly, hoping he would agree. But to his disappointment, Bryan slowly shook his head.

    "I don''t like crowded ces. For the rest of the summer holiday, if nothing unexpected happens, I''ll probably stay at the Manor. I need time to ponder over the memory we experienced."

    The journey that had brought them to this remote sea area had taken over twenty days, but the return wouldn''t be nearly asplicated. They could use the Portkey to transfer to Old John''s ce, and then Bryan could Apparate with Sirius back to London.

    Their current locationy within the magical protection range of Azkaban, a zone where powerful magic rendered all forms of instant transportation spells ineffective. Bryan used magic to slowly guide thepletely immobile wreck of a ship to slowly float out of this sea area.

    Just as Bryan had anticipated earlier, passing through the magical barrier again caused some disturbance, but it was nothingpared to the earth-shattering resistance they had encountered on their way in. This time, it felt more like a gentle breeze ruffling their hair and clothes.

    As they finally escaped Azkaban''s influence entirely, Sirius felt thest traces of gloom lift from his spirit. He leaned against the ship''s rail, savoring the pleasant sea breeze while Bryan went to fetch the Portkey from the cabin.

    The peaceful moment was shattered by the sudden appearance of a snowy owl. The bird had been circling high above, nearly invisible against the pale sky, but now it swooped earthward, leaving a sharp shadow in mid-air. By the time Sirius realized the bird might be headed for him, the owl was already pouncing in front of his face, beating its wings against his cheeks.

    "Oh, don''t do that¡ª" Sirius protested, staggering back a few steps. He frowned at the clearly agitated owl, which red at him with unmistakable hostility, as if ready to peck him fiercely at any moment. The bird looked as though it had been through quite an ordeal, its white feathers looked ruffled and disheveled. After a moment of careful examination, he suddenly eximed.

    "Come quick, Bryan! It''s Harry''s owl, I think it''s called Hemingway!"

    "It''s Hedwig¡ª" Bryan''s voice carried a hint of amusement as he emerged from the cabin, with Portkey in hand. He shook his head slightly at Sirius.

    "What did I tell you!" Sirius eximed, looking extremely pleased with himself despite the correction. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned back to the owl. "Harry must be getting impatient staying with those Muggles. He can''t wait for me to pick him up. Oh, speaking of which, this owl is quite something, to be able to find us here!"

    For Sirius, whose world had been shattered and rebuilt around his godson, the greatest joy was feeling needed by Harry.

    With gentle words and soothing gestures, Sirius managed to calm Hedwig enough to retrieve the letter she carried. His hands trembled slightly with anticipation as he unfolded the parchment in front of Bryan. He began reading eagerly, but as the somewhat childish handwriting jumped into his eyes one word after another, Sirius''s joyful expression gradually faded, reced by a hint of seriousness on his brow.

    "Perhaps you should take a look at this letter, Bryan," Sirius said, his voice low and tense.

    Harry''s owl had delivered letters to him before. Bryan was feeding Hedwig small fish from the sea when he heard Sirius say this. He shifted his gaze over, immediately sensing that something unpleasant must have happened.

    "What''s wrong?" Bryan inquired while unhesitatingly taking the letter and quickly reading it at a nce.

    "What do you think, Bryan?" Sirius asked softly, watching Bryan''s face intently for any reaction. "Harry''s scar isn''t an ordinary scar, is it? Harry said thest time it hurt was when Voldemort was near him. Voldemort couldn''t possibly appear near the Muggle family where Harry is staying, could he? With Dumbledore''s magical protection, he simply couldn''t find Harry, right?"

    "Harry probably hasn''t told us everything," Bryan said, narrowing his eyes slightly as he stared at the cautious words on the paper. He suddenly recalled his conversation with Dumbledore before this trip and couldn''t help but feel a sense of admiration. It hadn''t been long since Dumbledore had warned him, and now something unusual had happened with Harry.

    Putting down the letter, Bryan met Sirius''s worried gaze and said calmly.

    "Harry''s scar is indeed unusual. It represents a hidden connection between him and the wizard who gave him that scar. It certainly needs to be taken seriously. Alright, I''ll apany you to Privet Drive to ask Harry in person if there''s anything he hasn''t fully exined. Also, I suggest you write a letter to Dumbledore, telling him about this¡ª"

    Bryan''s words were cut short by a sudden screech that pierced the air. Another owl, this one an ordinary grey, came swooping in from the distance. Like Hedwig, this bird''s feathers were disheveled, looking as if it had been struggling in this sea area for some time.

    The letter was addressed to Bryan, sent by Kakus Fawley.

    Bryan''s eyes sharpened as he quickly scanned the contents of the message, his expression growing more focused with each passing second.

    "I''m sorry, Sirius¡ª" Bryan said, looking up from the letter. "You''ll have to inquire about Harry''s situation on your own. If there''s any new information, write to me anytime. There''s a matter I must investigate personally¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0405 Albania

    0405 Albania

    Albania, and of contrasts and mysteries, presents a facade of natural beauty to the unsuspecting Muggle world. ording to official government statistics, one-third of Albania''s diverse terrain is nketed in lush, dense forests. These verdant expanses, with their towering trees and vegetation teeming with life, paints a picturesque scene that lures Muggle tourists from far and wide. However, for upstanding wizards in the Wizarding world, it''s not a ce worth lingering.

    The root of Albania''s magical predicament lies in its demographics. The country''s poption, by global standards, is rtively small. The limited poption renders to a correspondingly small number of native-born wizards and witches. This scarcity of wizards has led to a critical problem that reverberates through every aspect of magical life in Albania.

    Without a sufficient number of local wizards, Albaniacks the necessary foundation to establish a legitimate Ministry of Magic. Such a ministry, recognized by the International Confederation of Wizards, is the cornerstone of magical governance in most nations. It serves as the regtory body, enforcingws, maintaining order, and ensuring the delicate bnce between the magical and Muggle worlds remains undisturbed. In its absence, a vacuum of power emerges, leaving only the bare minimum of magicalw - the Statute of Secrecy - to govern the actions of witches and wizards within Albania''s borders.

    Thisck ofprehensive magical oversight has given rise to chaotic and often dangerous phenomena. Magical creatures in this country are ughtered indiscriminately. Their parts, prized for their magical properties, fetch exorbitant prices on the ck market, fueling a cycle of greed and destruction.

    The trade in illegal magical substances flourishes in thiswless environment. Rare potion ingredients, some so potent or dangerous that their very possession is illegal in most civilized magicalmunities, change hands freely here. Smugglers, drawn by the promise of enormous profits andx enforcement, have made Albania their chosen marketce. They conduct their evil business with liberty, knowing that no aurors or magicalw enforcement agents will swoop down to arrest them.

    In this climate of unchecked magical activity, the darker aspects of wizardry have found fertile ground to take root and flourish. Dark magic, shunned and forbidden in most magical societies, is practiced openly here. Curses that would earn a life sentence in Azkaban are cast without fear of repercussion. Enchanted objects of malicious design are crafted and sold to the highest bidder.

    Adding to this vtile mix are the traditional wild witches and wizards who call Albania home. These practitioners of ancient and often brutal forms of magic often conduct cruel experiments here.

    As word of Albania''s unique situation spread through the darker corners of the wizarding world, the country became a ma for those with something to hide. Fugitives pursued by their home countries'' Ministries of Magic saw in Albania a perfect refuge. These individuals, already of questionable character, brought with them their own brands of mayhem. Incidents involving attacks on unsuspecting Muggles became increasingly frequent, though carefully orchestrated to avoid causing widespread panic that might draw unwanted attention.

    The International Confederation of Wizards, theoretically responsible for magical governance in the absence of a local ministry, found itself in an impossible position. Tasked with maintaining the Statute of Secrecy above all else, the Confederation is forced to turn a blind eye to many of the atrocitiesmitted within Albania''s borders. As long as the Muggle world remains blissfully unaware of the magical chaos unfolding around them, the Confederation''s hands were tied.

    Even Dumbledore, arguably the most powerful and influential wizard of the age, was also powerless to change Albania. His desire to protect the innocent Muggles caught in the crossfire of magical conflicts is blocked by theplex web of interests that have taken root in the country.

    Like the underground world in the depths of Knockturn Alley, Albania''s magical underworld is protected by awork of connections that blur the lines between light and dark. To truly change the status quo, Dumbledore would have to charge in wielding his wand and go on a rampage himself.

    As twilight descends upon thisnd, the sky''s vibrant palette gradually fades.

    The setting sun, once a zing orb of fierce crimson, mellows to a softer, more subdued red. At the distant horizon, where the vast expanse of the sea meets the darkening sky, one can just make out the tiny ck silhouettes of fishing boats struggling to reach shore, painting a picture of the vast, boundless ocean.

    The encroaching night brings with it a palpable sense of unease among the Muggle tourists. Despite being captivated by the raw beauty of Albania''s naturalndscapes, As if responding to some unspoken signal, tourists begin to call out to theirpanions and walk with hurried footsteps to their cars to leave.

    By the time the cold moon bes faintly visible in the sky, there were hardly any Muggles left at the boundary between the primeval forest and the hills covered in lush green grass. However, by the ripplingkeshore, a middle-aged woman was kneeling, sobbing desperately as several policemen try to restrain her.

    "What''s going on?" A young man carrying a travel suitcase appeared silently behind a policeman, startling the Greek-looking Muggle police officer who had been standing nearby, hands on his hips, surveying the scene with a weary sigh.

    "Oh Damn, where did youe from?" The policeman, seemingly the leading officer, nearly twisted his ankle. His hand even moved reflexively towards his gun holster, but after his gaze swept over the gray-haired young man''s entire body, the vignce in his eyes dissipated, reced by a touch of embarrassed anger from being frightened.

    "What happened?" The gray-haired young man asked, ignoring the Muggle policeman''s emotions, raising his chin and looked towards the middle-aged woman who was struggling with several officers and wailing loudly as she tried to rush into theke.

    "Ah¡ª" The Muggle policeman seemed to be a very approachable person. He didn''t dwell on how the gray-haired young man managed to sneak up behind him without making a sound on the open grasnd where they could see everything. Sighing, he looked at the middle-aged woman with sympathy in his eyes.

    "She''s a tourist from Italy. This morning, thedy and her daughter were out boating on theke. Everything seemed normal at first, but then a gust of wind blew by. The woman says she just blinked, and in that instant, her daughter vanished."

    "Oh¡ª" The young man, with strangely rare eye color but handsome appearance and an eye-catching temperament nodded thoughtfully. "What about the search team? Haven''t you tried looking in theke?"

    "You''re not from around here, sir. You don''t understand the situation¡ª" The Muggle policeman lowered his voice, afraid of upsetting the Italian woman whose nerves are already frayed. He leaned towards the gray-haired young man''s ear and whispered,"This sort of thing... it happens here quite often. More often than anyone likes to admit. Touristse to enjoy our beautiful country, they''re ying by theke, exploring the forests, visiting our scenic spots, and then... in the blink of an eye, their loved ones vanish.

    We search, of course. We search until we''re exhausted, until we''vebed every inch ofnd and water. But it''s always the same. No matter how much effort we put in, how many resources we deploy, we can''t find them. It''s like they''ve been swallowed up by the earth itself.

    Sometimes, if they''re lucky, the missing people reappear after a while. They just show up in another ce. But here''s the strangest part - they have no memory of what happened to them during that period of time. They can''t exin how they ended up where they were found, or what happened during the time they were missing. It''s like they stepped out of the world for a while and then stepped back in, with no idea they''d been gone."

    "And the unlucky ones?"

    "Oh¡ª" The Muggle policeman''s face turned horrified. "The unlucky ones... when we finally find them, they''re already gone. Dead. But that''s not even the strangest part. There''s never any apparent cause of death on their bodies. No wounds, no signs of violence. And then there are the most unfortunate cases. The ones where people disappearpletely, leaving no trace at all."

    "Hmm¡ª" Looking at the grief-stricken Muggle woman, a deep light shed in Bryan''s eyes. "Haven''t you ever truly investigated the cause?"

    "Of course we want to!" The Muggle policeman cried out indignantly. "But the higher-ups won''t let us dig too deep. The government, they''re more concerned about protecting the tourism industry than finding the truth.

    They use every trick in the book - threats, bribes, whatever it takes to keep the families quiet. They''re terrified that if word gets out about what really happens here, no tourist will ever set foot in this country again. And the politicians, those despicable, self-serving¡ªOh, damn!"

    The Muggle policeman suddenly stopped his rant, jumping away from the gray-haired young man and stared at him with terrified eyes. "I shouldn''t have told you all this," he stammered, panic evident in his voice. "Oh, damn it. Alright, forget everything I just said. You never heard any of this, understand?"

    His tone became urgent, almost pleading. "Hurry back to your hotel and rest, sir. It''s not safe out here at night. There are... things in the darkness. Large wild animals prowling around. You wouldn''t want to end up like the others, would you? Disappearing suddenly only to be found in a stinking sewer after a while?"

    "Thank you for your warning. I certainly wouldn''t want to meet such an end¡ª" The gray-haired young man nodded politely to the Muggle policeman, smiling courteously.

    "Then leave quickly!" the officer insisted, waving his arms in an exaggerated shooing motion. He watched intently as the young man turned to go, only rxing slightly when he saw him start to walk away. With a heavy sigh, the officer turned his attention back to the weeping Italian woman, her cries having subsided to quiet, heartbreaking sobs.

    But as the officer''s gaze shifted away, the young man halted his departure. He turned his head, fixing the grieving mother with a long, prating look. For a brief moment, a sh of lightning-like anger in his eyes.

    The gray-haired young man is, of course, Bryan.

    Four or five days ago, Bryan was still drifting on the ocean with Sirius.

    The trip to Azkaban had been quite fruitful. ording to the original n, he was prepared to return to 12 Grimmauld ce and spend some time pondering the gains from this adventure.

    But just at the end of this adventure, a letter from Kakus Fawley interrupted Bryan''s ns, forcing him to embark on a tiring journey to this unfamiliar country, despite having already expended considerable energy.

    Now, as he stood at the edge of this primeval forest, Bryan couldn''t help but drawparisons to the Forbidden Forest that bordered Hogwarts. But as the Forbidden Forest held a certain familiarity, a sense of being tamed (if only slightly) due to its proximity to the school, this Albanian woond exuded an aura of wild, untamed aura.

    In the dense woods, towering trees reaching several dozen feet high and too thick for even several adults to encircle with their arms are everywhere. While the sky outside still held the faint glow of sunset, the forest was already steeped in darkness.

    Bryan pulled his ck robes tighter around himself, more out of instinct than any real need for warmth. The garment, imbued with protective enchantments, seemed to absorb the surrounding darkness, rendering him nearly invisible. This camouge, however, did little to shield him from the unseen wizard''s eyes that watched his every move.

    d in ck robes, Bryan ignored the greedy eyes that were lurking in the deep darkness, secretly peeping and waiting to strike, as he struggled along a barely noticeable path. The vines around were so thick that Bryan wasn''t even sure if he''s walking on the right path or if he''s already gone astray.

    After struggling through the vegetation, Bryan paused to check the letter from Kakus Fawley once more. From an inner pocket of his robes, he took out the slightly crumpled parchment. Attached to it was a crudely drawn magical map. In the dim light filtering through the canopy, Bryan studied the parchment intently.

    ording to the map, he was very close to his destination. Not far from it, arger symbol marked his goal. Bryan took a moment to survey his surroundings, matching the outlines of thend to those depicted on the map. Satisfied that he was indeed on the right track, he carefully refolded the letter and map, tucking them safely away before setting off once more.

    The next ten minutes of his journey were perhaps the most grueling yet. The forest seemed to grow denser with each step, as if actively resisting his progress.

    Finally, after these ten minutes of struggle, Bryan emerged into a small clearing. At its center stood a massive spruce tree, its trunk as wide as a small house.

    But it was what hung at the base of the spruce that truly caught Bryan''s attention. There, fixed to the ancient trunk, was the severed head of a goat.

    The sight was grotesque and unsettling in equal measure. The flesh where the head had been separated from its body was startlingly fresh, droplets of blood still clinging to the its edges, about to fall at any moment. But the rest of the head bore unmistakable signs of age and decay. The skin had tightened over the skull, giving it a mummified appearance.

    Most disturbing of all were the eye sockets - once home to the goat''s eyes, they now gaped as empty hollows, seeming to stare into Bryan''s very soul.

    "I wish to enter the camp,"

    Bryan said in an old voice, facing the goat''s head.

    For a moment, nothing happened. The clearing remained silent, the only movement the gentle swaying of leaves in a breeze Bryan couldn''t feel. Then, slowly at first but with increasing intensity, a change came over the scene.

    A subtle wind arose, seemingly from nowhere, rustling the undergrowth and setting Bryan''s robes to fluttering. The air grew thick with an unseen energy, making the hairs on the back of Bryan''s neck stand on end. And then, most unsettling of all, the goat''s head began to move.

    <strong>Creak, creak, creak--</strong>

    A sound emerged from its throat, a creaking, groaning noise. As Bryan watched, the goat''s head fixed to the spruce tree suddenlyughed ghostly, two points of sickly green light ignited in the depths from its hollow eye sockets.

    "State your name and your introducer,"

    When the goat''s head spoke, its voice was like nails scratching a chalkboard, high-pitched and grating.

    "Golden Viper, introduced by Kakus Fawley¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>Author''s Note: </strong><em>This whole thing regarding albania is fully fictional.i just used the ce''s name in Original Story as a reference. This albania and our real world albania are different.</em>

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0406 The Bar

    0406 The Bar

    <strong>Rumble¡ª</strong>

    After Bryan revealed his identity and the contact who introduced him, the Goat once again let out a chillingugh. Amidst this piercing sound, the earth beneath their feet trembled. Behind the towering spruce, a vast expanse ofnd came alive in a most unsettling manner. The lush grass, gnarled trees, and twisting vines that had peacefully adorned the forest floor suddenly began to writhe and contort. Their movements were not gentle swaying, but rather a frenzied, almost sentient dance.

    Then, as if an immensely powerful hand beneath the earth had grasped them, all the vegetation was pulled underground.

    The ground continued to quake relentlessly, the tremors growing in intensity. From the depths of the newly formed pit, a two-story building entirely constructed of rotting wooden nks, "grew" out of the earth!

    From the outside, this house looked even more terrifying than the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. Behind the grease-stained, broken windows, countless ghostly shadows flickered, and faint wails of female ghosts could be heard. Under the decaying eaves hung rows of dried bats.

    On the gable of the wooden house, a pumpkin vine clinging to the wall had produced a massive pumpkin. As if sensing life approaching, the pumpkin slowly rotated 180 degrees in mid-air. The whole gourd sprouted a grotesque mouth and ghostly eyes. Facing Bryan, its saw-toothed mouth dripped with glistening liquid, resembling saliva.

    <em>''Booorring...... just a toy to frighten children.''</em>

    Bryan just nced at the pumpkin before losing interest. He leapt over the spruce and slowly approached. Instead of pushing open the door, he walked to a signboard standing next to it.

    The signboard, like everything else associated with this ce, exuded an aura of decay and malice. Its surface was covered in a thickyer of sickly green mold, giving it the appearance of rotting flesh. At the top, written in what appeared to be fresh blood, were the words:

    <strong>"Soul Eater''s Den!"</strong>

    Below this gruesome title were posted approximately thirtymission requests. These were not the innocent job listings one might find in a vige square, but rather a catalog of dangerous pursuits. Most of themissions involved trading in materials that would make an ordinary wizard''s blood run cold. There were requests for valuable parts from magical creatures, many of which were undoubtedly protected or endangered species. Others sought rare potion ingredients that could only be found in the depths of this primeval forest, ingredients whose uses were surely ''evil''.

    There were also some bounties, asking for help in hunting down enemies.

    Bryan''s eyes scanned the board, but finding nothing that piqued his interest, he soon lost attention.

    With a casual push, Bryan opened the door to Soul Eater''s Home. The poorly maintained hinges protested loudly, emitting a high-pitched screech that set teeth on edge.

    As the door swung open, it revealed an interior that opposed the expectations set by the building''s exterior. The house, which appeared to be an inn, was actually more like a bar.

    While from the outside, Soul Eater''s Home had appeared to be a decaying two-story structure, the space within was far more expansive than seen from outside. The main hall stretched out before Bryan, was fairly spacious about the same size as Leaky Cauldron in London''s wizarding district.

    However, any simrities to that beloved wizarding pub ended there. Where the Leaky Cauldron was warm and inviting, Soul Eater''s Home was a den of depravity and danger. The atmosphere inside was thick with a cocktail of odors so potent and noxious that it seemed almost solid.

    The air was filled with various strange odors: the acrid smell of pipe tobo, the scent of brewing potions, and the stench of rotting animal innards. These odorsbined to create a miasma of toxicity that assaulted the senses. Anyone unfortunate enough to breathe this air for an extended period risked more than just difort; theplex mixture of magical residues and noxious fumes could potentially disrupt the flow of magic within a wizard''s body, leading to disorientation, hallucinations, or even unconsciousness.

    The lighting within the hall did little to improve the ambiance. Dim oilmps flickered erratically, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to take on lives of their own. The inconsistent illumination made it difficult to focus on any one area for long, adding to the overall sense of unease and disorientation.

    Despite thete hour and the remote location, the noisy hall was far from being empty. There were at least a fifty or sowless individuals with diverse styles of dress. These dark wizards, in groups of two or three, went about their business¡ªtrading, arguing, drinking contests, boasting¡ªmore or less.

    Small groups huddled together, engaged in hushed negotiations over rare and undoubtedly illegal magical artifacts. Others argued loudly, their hands never straying far from their wands as they disputed the terms of contracts or the division of ill-gotten gains.

    In one corner, a rowdy drinking contest was underway, the participants drinking concoctions that sparked and smoked ominously. The winner of such a contest was likely to be the one who survived with the least permanent damage to their internal organs.

    The moment Bryan opened the door and took his first step into the bar. The previously raucous tavern fell silent instantly. Inquisitive gazes turned towards the doorway, focusing on the figure wearing ordinary ck robes but whose face was concealed by a vortex of magical energy.

    Bryan frowned, not because he was the center of attention, but because the floor of this bar seemed like it hadn''t been cleaned for centuries. The original color of the floorboards could no longer be seen, covered in a mixture of soil, leaves, bloodstains, and grease. These substances had umted on the floor like glue, stuck to his shoes.

    After shaking off arge chunk of grime from his soles, Bryan adjusted his robes and walked calmly towards the bar counter.

    Meanwhile, the customers in the hall continued to scrutinize Bryan. Their prying gazes were filled with malice, and among the whispers, there wereughing sneers.

    "What would you like, Mr. Viper¡ª"

    The bartender was very tall, and arge crimson scar on his forehead, seemingly left by a burn, made him appear even more dangerous.

    Evidently, he had also heard Bryan reveal his identity earlier in front of the Goat Head.

    Without waiting for a response, the bartender continued, his tone leaving no room for argument:

    "To enter the camp, you must spend at least ten Galleons. Otherwise, you''re not wee here."

    The bartender stared coldly at Bryan as he slowly approached the counter, and spoke in a muffled voice.

    Bryan heard the bartender''s warning but paid no attention to it. His focus was drawn to a figure sitting on a three-legged stool by the back window, brewing a potion in a cauldron in front of him.

    The figure hunched over a bubbling cauldron, his focus entirely on the concoction he was brewing. He was one of the few in the hall who had not been disturbed by Bryan''s arrival, continuing his work with single-minded determination.

    As Bryan''s gaze settled on this potion brewer, he found himself unable to discern the man''s age. This was not due to any magical spell, but rather because the wizard''s entire face, including what remained of his hair, had been horrifically altered by what could only have been a bacsh of dark magic.

    His facial features were reduced to terrifying, dark red muscle tissue, and his lips seemed to have had arge chunk cut out, exposing ck gums and the few remaining yellow teeth.

    Of course, this wasn''t what attracted Bryan''s attention.

    The potion brewing in front of this ugly wizard had a mother-of-pearl shine, with spiraling steam rising from the bubbling liquid.

    A girl sat on the floor next to the three-legged stool, her body seemingly powerless as she leaned against the ugly wizard''s leg.

    The girl appeared to be in herte teens, perhaps eighteen or neen years old. Her long, chestnut hair cascaded down her back in smooth, shining waves, a stark contrast to the filth and decay that surrounded her. Even in this dimly lit, smoke-filled room, her beauty was undeniable. In fact, the dirty setting seemed to enhance her appeal, making her appear like a captured angel amidst a horde of demons.

    The young woman''s body was limp as she leaned heavily against the leg of the disfigured wizard cheeks pressed against his thigh. As she gazed up at the hideously deformed face of the potion brewer, her expression was one of utter adoration.

    There was no fear in her eyes as she observed the nightmarish face above her. Instead, her gaze held a mixture of longing, devotion, and a desperate need to please. Only in the very depths of her clouded pupils could one detect the faintest glimmer of her true self ¨C a tiny spark of terror and pleading, like a drowning person''sst gasp before slipping beneath the waves.

    "Oh,e on, baby!"

    The potion in the cauldron had finally reached the right consistency. The ugly wizard excitedly scooped out arge amount with a woodendle. After sniffing it under his nose, he smacked his lips in satisfaction. Then, with a ferocious grin, he poured it all into the mouth of the girl, whose body contained not a trace of magical power.

    "Mmm¡ª"

    This love potion was clearly spiked. The struggle in the girl''s eyes instantly disappeared. She hugged the ugly wizard''s leg, unconsciously making sounds filled with passionate heat.

    "Hehehe¡ª"

    As the ugly wizard withdrew thedle, he casually tore off one strap of the girl''s floral print dress. Even in the yellowmplight, arge expanse of skin was revealed, dazzling to the eye. About half of her chest was also exposed.

    The ugly wizard''sughter was full of smugness. He tossed aside the woodendle, one hand cupping the girl''s chin while the other w-like hand reached to topple her¡ª

    "I advise you not to do that in front of me."

    The rules of the underworld are generally simr. In such an environment, staring at someone for a long time is a tant provocation. Except for the ugly wizard immersed in his own world, everyone else had noticed this behavior. They watched the scene with great interest, already anticipating what would happen next.

    Only the bartender was unwilling to see this unfold. After Bryan spoke, he immediately warned him again,

    "I must remind you, Viper, that anyone who has tried to cause trouble here has, without exception, be fertilizer for the pumpkin. Do you want to end up the same way?"

    The bartender''s harsh voice did not slow Bryan''s steps. He walked steadily to the ugly wizard''s side. The gaze behind his magical vortex lowered, ncing at the Muggle girl''s hair and features, then settled on the still somewhat surprised face of the ugly wizard. He spoke calmly,

    "Otherwise, I''ll twist your head off and hang it on the tree outside."

    "Are you trying to meddle in others''s businesses?"

    The ugly wizard''s eyes widened, still somewhat stunned. But as he came to his senses, his voice carried obvious mockery and contempt, as if educating a young novice wizard who didn''t understand the rules.

    "You want to meddle in others''s affairs?"

    The ugly wizard withdrew his hand reaching for the girl. He stood up from the stool, grinning as he repeated his question, this time again with undisguised sarcasm,

    "Who do you think you are? Oh, you''re called Golden Viper. I''ve heard that name before. You have some reputation in the pits of Knockturn Alley, but this is Albania. This is the Soul Eater''s Den. Your name might not carry as much weight here. Look behind you, oh, you little fool full of justice¡ª"

    The ugly wizard looked at Bryan with pity and said,

    "I''ll carve your brave but foolish deed on your skull and hang it on the front door as a warning to outsiders¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0407 Slaughter Time

    0407 ughter Time

    Bryan turned his head to scan behind him, only to be met with a sea of mocking gazes.

    The spectators rose to their feet one by one, their faces filled with amusement. Without a doubt, they had already chosen sides for the impending conflict.

    These people, with their cold-blooded nature honed by years of dark deeds and darker magic, typically wouldn''t bat an eye at disputes between ''locals.'' It was an unspoken rule, a code of conduct in this den. But Golden Viper was an ''outsider,'' a brash neer who had the audacity, the sheer gall, to waltz in and break their rules on his very first visit. If they didn''t teach him a lesson, and a harsh one at that, word would spread like wildfire and The Soul Eater''s Den would be aughingstock.

    The tall bartender stared at Bryan with a steely gaze. His voice, as cold and sharp as a de of ice, cut through the tension-filled air. "Out of respect for Fawley," he growled, each word dripping with barely contained contempt, "Golden Viper¡ªleave all your galleons here, and you can crawl out of here alive."

    Across the room, the ugly wizard who had started this whole debacle grinned triumphantly, his yellowed teeth gleaming in the dim light. The sense of urgency that had previously driven him seemed to evaporate like morning dew under a scorching sun. He was no longer in a rush to deal with this clueless fool who had dared to challenge him. Instead, a sadistic gleam entered his beady eyes as he savored the moment, relishing the impending downfall of the arrogant outsider.

    With a sneer that twisted his already grotesque features into something truly nightmarish, he grabbed the Muggle girl by her hair, yanking her up from the ground. He then gripped her pale neck, forcing her to look at Golden Viper.

    "There''s an idiot here who wants to take you away, sweetheart," he crooned, his voice a sickening parody of affection. "Do you want to leave with him?"

    "No..." the girl mumbled in a delirious voice, her mind still clouded, her gaze fixed adoringly on the disgusting face before her.

    The ugly wizard''s face split into a triumphant leer, his grip on the girl''s slender waist tightening possessively. "Oh, did you hear that?" he crowed, his voice rising in pitch with malicious glee. "She doesn''t want to leave with you!" He pulled the girl closer, her limp form offering no resistance as he manhandled her like a rag doll. With a look of pure malice, he added, his voice dripping with anticipation, "Now, let''s watch what bes of this fool!"

    "What brings you here, outsider?" a voice came from behind a wooden partition that divided the hall.

    "Well, you see¡ª"

    Even though he became the target of public criticism, Golden Viper didn''t seem to realize that he was in trouble. His tone even carried a hint of amusement.

    "I''m looking for a woman, a Druid, Word is, she was spotted here before, so I came to ask around¡ª"

    Before he could finish his exnation, another voice cut through the tense atmosphere. This one came from a burly wizard slouched against the bar, his face half-hidden by a tangled mass of beard.

    "Why are you looking for this woman?" he interjected, his tone teasing but with an edge of cruelty. A mean-spirited grin appeared on his face as he added, "Is she your mother?"

    The question,den with mockery, was like a spark in a powder keg. It ignited an explosion ofughter that swept through the bar like wildfire. Many of the patronsughed so hard that they lost their bnce, toppling from their chairs to roll on the dirty floor, clutching their sides. Others pped their hands against the scarred wooden tables, making sses and bottles dance precariously.

    Even the ugly wizard who had kidnapped the Muggle girl was caught up in the wave of hrity. In his glee, he identally knocked over the vial of love potion that sat on the table before him. But in his amusement, he didn''t seem to care, stillughing uproariously and pping his thigh with such force that it echoed like gunshots in the crowded room.

    Amidst the sea ofughter, the tall bartender remained stoic calm. His cold eyes, as hard and unforgiving as chips of ice, remained fixed on Bryan. "You''re just embarrassing yourself, Viper¡ª"

    "Ah, you stinking lot¡ª" Bryan shook his head resignedly.

    For months now, Bryan had been living in the light keepingpany with decent,w-abiding folks. It had been quite a while since he hadst dealt with these filthy scums whocked even basic morals. The stark contrast between his recent experiences and the current situation left him feeling somewhat ufortable.

    As wave after wave of mockery continued to crash over him, Bryan tilted his head slightly, his eyes taking on a distant look as he pondered his next move. For a few seconds, he stood there, still as a statue. Then, he slowly raised his hand to remove the wide ck hood from his head. A mane of soft, lustrous gray hair spilled out into the dim air. Unhurriedly, he unfastened the sp at his neck and draped the ck robe over his left arm.

    Theughter that had filled the room just moments before hadpletely evaporated, reced by a tense silence thick with anticipation and growing unease. Every eye in the ce was fixed on Golden Viper, watching his unexpected actions with a mixture of confusion and wariness. In the minds of the onlookers, they were silently specting what tricks this outsider might be ying.

    A series of coughs broke the silence. "Ahem¡ªCough---Ahem." Bryan cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the hushed room. With each cough, a remarkable transformation seemed to ur ¨C his voice grew younger.

    He turned on the spot, his eyes sweeping across the room, observing and cataloging every reaction. Finally, his circuitplete, Bryan faced the ugly wizard who still held the entranced girl in his grasp. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, like a sandcastle being washed away by the iing tide, the magical vortex that had been concealing his true features began to dissipate.

    As thest wisps of magic faded away, they revealed a face that sent shockwaves through the room.

    <strong>Silence¡ª</strong>

    The raucousughter that had filled the bar just moments ago had diedpletely, reced by a silence so deep it seemed to absorb all sound. The only noise to be heard was the increasingly heavy breathing of the bar''s upants as the full impact of what they were seeing sank in.

    The ugly wizard, his face a mask of shock and dawning horror, involuntarily released his grip on the Muggle girl. His hand fell limply to his side, trembling uncontrobly as if afflicted by a palsy. His eyes, previously narrowed in cruel amusement, now widened to the point where they seemed in danger of popping out of his head. His lipless mouth worked silently for a moment before managing to emit a strange, strangled sound ¨C "Ah... ah..."

    The name that was on everyone''s mind, the name that no one dared to speak aloud, hung in the air like an undetonated explosive: Bryan Watson!

    It was the tall bartender who finally broke the paralyzing silence. His terrified roar from behind the counter made the sses on the shelves rattle ominously. "Run!" he roared, his voice cracking with fear. "Golden Viper is Bryan Watson! He doesn''t want to leave anyone alive!"

    The words had barely left his mouth when chaos erupted.

    <strong>BOOM!</strong>

    In that instant, the entire bar shook violently as if struck by a bolt of lightning from the heavens. The floorboards groaned, dust rained down from the ceiling, and sses toppled from shelves to shatter on the floor. But no one paid any attention to the destruction ¨C they were too busy trying to save their own skins.

    Panic gripped the room''s upants, each reacting in their own desperate way to the sudden, terrifying turn of events. Some made a frantic dash for the exit, shoving and wing at each other in their haste to escape. Others, perhaps realizing that the door would quickly be a deadly bottleneck, turned their wands on the walls. sts of magic erupted from their wands as they attempted to create their own escape routes.

    A brave (or foolish) few turned to face Bryan, hurling powerful dark magic in his direction. Jets of sickly green light and writhing tendrils of darkness cut through the air, aimed at Bryan. Others, perhapscking confidence in their spell-casting abilities, resorted to more mundane methods of attack. They made throwing motions with their arms,unching vials of vicious potions through the air.

    Still others released their magical creature familiars ¨C vicious beasts driven by dark magic and their masters'' will. As soon as their paws, ws, or tentacles touched the ground, they snarled and snapped, their eyes fixed hungrily on Bryan as they prepared to pounce.

    For a moment, it seemed as though Bryan would be overwhelmed by the sheer volume of attacks heading his way. But then...

    <strong>Hum!</strong>

    The sound was soft, almost imperceptible amidst the chaos, but its effects were anything but subtle. From the center of the chaotic bar hall, where Bryan stood calm and unmoving, a tangible wave of magical energy erupted. It swept outward with the unstoppable force of a thunderbolt, faster than the eye could follow.

    As the wave of energy passed over them, every person, creature, and object in its path froze instantly. It was as if time itself had stopped, trapping everything and everyone in its grip. They stood motionless, suspended in mid-action like insects caught in amber. Only their eyes, wide with fear and confusion, showed any sign of life or awareness.

    In the sudden, eerie silence that followed, the soft sound of footsteps could be heard.

    <strong>Tap, tap, tap¡ª</strong>

    After a moment''s consideration, Bryan turned and began to walk back towards the bar counter pushing aside ss shards suspended in the air.

    As he approached the bar, he saw that the bartender had already leapt onto the counter. The man''s massive body was frozen mid-dive towards the door, his center of gravity already beyond the edge of the bar. It was a position that, under normal circumstances, would have sent him crashing to the floor. But trapped in the grip of Bryan''s spell, he hung there, defying gravity, unable toplete his escape.

    With a casual flick of his wand, Bryan levitated the bartender''s body from the counter. He rotated therge man in mid-air before gently lowering him to the floor, leaving him in an awkward position, face-up on the grimy floorboards.

    Bryan knelt beside the prone figure, his eyes locking with the bartender''s bulging orbs. In those eyes, he could read a whirlwind of emotions: fear at being at the mercy of such a powerful wizard, bitter regret for the choices that had led him to this moment, desperate pleading for mercy, and a faint glimmer of hope ¨C hope that he might be able to trade information for his life.

    But unfortunately for the bartender, Bryan didn''t need him to speak.

    In the dim bar hall, an eerie transformation began to take ce. Two purple moons slowly rose in Bryan''s eyes, their strange, heavy light seeming to pulse with an otherworldly power. As the bartender stared into those alien orbs, he felt thest remnants of his will being stripped away. The purple glow extinguished all emotion in his eyes, leaving them as nk and empty as a doll''s.

    Bryan delved deep into the violently extracted memories, sifting through the bartender''s experiences as easily as one might flip through the pages of a book. A series of frozen images shed rapidly before his mind''s eye, each one a snapshot of the bartender''s recent past. One day, two days, three days... the memories flowed backwards through time like a river running in reverse.

    Until, about ten days into the past, Bryan''s mental gaze froze. The rapid flow of images slowed to a crawl as he focused intently on a particr memory.

    A woman had appeared in the Soul Eaters'' Den on that day. But it wasn''t Cliodna, the Druid that Bryan had been seeking.

    Instead, the memory revealed a fat middle-aged witch dressed in what could only be described as normal, respectable clothes. She stood out like a sore thumb in the den of immorality.

    She looked slightly confused, her brow furrowed and her eyes darting nervously around the room. It was clear that she was unsure of why she was there. But that uncertainty quickly gave way to fear as she took in her surroundings. The room was filled with the kind of individuals that haunted the nightmares ofw-abiding citizens ¨C dark wizards with cold eyes and cruel smiles, hags with gnarled hands and razor-sharp teeth, and creatures that defied easy ssification.

    What happened next was as predictable as it was horrifying. The witch, her face now a mask of terror, tried to leave in a panic. Her sudden movement drew every eye in the ce, like predators sensing wounded prey. She fumbled for the door handle with her trembling hands but it was already toote.

    In thiswless ce, any sign of weakness was like blood in the water, and the denizens of the Soul Eater''s Den were nothing if not sharks. Before the witch could reach the exit, she found herself restrained by a group of dark wizards who had moved with supernatural speed to intercept her.

    Rough hands grabbed her arms, spinning her around to face the room. The witch''s terrified whimpers were drowned out by the low, menacing chuckles that rippled through the crowd. The dark wizards examined their captive, their eyes roving over her body with a mixture of curiosity and malice. It was clear from their expressions that they were pondering how best to deal with this unexpected intruder, and none of the possibilities that shed across their faces boded well for the unfortunate witch.

    Just as the situation seemed to take an even darker turn, something unexpected happened. From an inconspicuous corner of the bar, a figure stirred. This neer had been so still, so unremarkable, that they had faded into the background, overlooked by everyone present. Now, as they rose to their feet, all eyes turned to them.

    The figure was draped in an ordinary cloak, their head tightly wrapped in a scarf that obscured their face. Before anyone could react, before a single spell could be cast or a single threat uttered, the mysterious figure made their move. With a gesture so swift it was almost imperceptible; they conjured a grapevine staff out of thin air.

    The tip of the staff erupted in a burst of emerald light so bright it momentarily blinded everyone in the room. As the patrons of the Soul Eater''s Den blinked the spots from their eyes, they saw that a transformation had taken ce.

    The neer''s cloak had fallen away, revealing elegant attire that seemed to shimmer with an inner light. But it was her hair that drew every eye in the room. Long, silky strands of green cascaded from beneath the scarf, flowing like living vines. The green tresses seemed to glow with an ethereal light, casting dancing shadows on the walls of the den.

    The cold moon, full and luminous, had finally climbed to the center of the night sky, bathing the scene in its silvery light.

    But the tranquility of the moonlit forest was shattered by a raging inferno. A massive fire had engulfed what appeared to be a building, its mes reaching so high they turned half the sky an angry, flickering white.

    From within the all-consuming mes came the muffled sound of exploding walls and beam, along with faint, shrill screams.

    In the firelight, the Muggle girl, kneeling on the ground dozens of feet away, finally regained a glimmer of rity in her dazed eyes. The girl''s mouth opened slightly, a look of stunned disbelief on her face as she stared at the intense mes. Slowly, as if in a trance, she struggled to her feet. Though not fully conscious, her instincts were beginning to kick in, and those instincts were screaming at her to run from the terrifying inferno before her.

    She stumbled backward, her movements uncoordinated and jerky. In her dazed state, she failed to notice a stone protruding from the forest soil. Her heel caught on it, and with a startled cry, she tumbled backward.

    "Ouch!" The sharp cry of pain cut through the night air as shended hard on her backside. The sudden jolt and the spike of pain it caused served to further clear the fog from her mind. Grimacing, she struggled to push herself up, her hands scrabbling in the dirt and leaves of the forest floor.

    As she fought to regain her feet, her gaze drifted upward, drawn almost against her will to a massive spruce tree that loomed nearby. What she saw there caused her newly cleared mind to freeze in horror.

    Impaled on crude stone spears and nailed to the trunk of the ancient spruce were... heads. But these were no ordinary trophies of some mad hunter. These were human heads, or what remained of them. Each one had been charred beyond recognition, the flesh ckened and cracked, barely clinging to the skull beneath.

    Despite the extensive damage, the faces of the deceased were still horribly recognizable as human. Their features were frozen in expressions of terror, seemed to be the final testament to the horror they had experienced in theirst moments of life.

    The sight was too much for the young girl''s fragile psyche to handle. A piercing scream tore from her throat, filled with all the fear and horror that had been building since she first regained consciousness. The sound echoed through the forest, drowning out even the roar of the nearby inferno.

    In a nearby Muggle vige, the scream did not go unnoticed. Residents who had been preparing to battle what they assumed was a simple forest fire quickened their pace.

    Among the towering trees standing in neat rows, two points of deep purple light vanished into the deep darkness.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0408 Thoughts

    0408 Thoughts

    The primeval forests of Albania, with their towering trees and dense vegetation, had long been home to countless creatures, both magical and mundane. On this particr night, however, an unusual restlessness permeated the air. These animals could not slept well all night.

    What had begun as a routine operation tobat a forest fire had unexpectedly morphed into something far moreplex and sinister. The Albanian firefighters, their faces streaked with soot and sweat, had been battling the ze for hours when they stumbled upon a scene that would soon capture national attention.

    In a small clearing, miraculously untouched by the inferno that raged around it,y an unconscious young woman. At first nce, she appeared to be just another tourist who had lost her way in the vast wilderness. Such urrences, while regrettable, were not umon in this country.

    Indeed, the disappearance of foreign visitors in Albania''s more remote areas had be something of a grim joke among locals. The country''s reputation for mystery and danger had made it an attractive destination for thrill-seekers and adventurers. Even more bizarrely, when these lost ones were eventually found - sometimes days or even weeks after their disappearance - they showed signs of memory loss.

    However, the discovery of the young girl coincided with a brutal murder at the same location, furtherplicating the situation.

    As if that wasn''t enough, the forest fire that had initially drawn the emergency services to this location began to exhibit highly unusual behavior. Witnesses wouldter describe it as almost sentient, as if guided by an unseen hand. The mes, which had been raging uncontrobly just moments before, suddenly began to recede. They pulled back from the clearing where the girl had been found, creating an eerie circle of untouched forest floor amidst the charred and smokingndscape.

    Even more strangely, the fire seemed to redirect itself, converging on a specific point deeper in the woods. The firefighters, baffled by this unprecedented phenomenon, cautiously followed the path of the mes. What they found would elevate this incident from a local tragedy to a national crisis.

    Hidden deep within the forest, in an area so remote it didn''t appear on any official maps, stood arge wooden structure. Or rather, what remained of one. The fire had focused its fury on this building with an almost unnatural intensity. By the time the emergency services arrived, little remained but smoldering ruins and ash.

    As the smoke cleared and the investigators began to sift through the debris, the true horror of the situation began to emerge. Amidst the charred timbers and melted metal, they found human remains. Not just one or two bodies, but dozens. Early estimates put the number at nearly forty individuals.

    The discovery sent shockwaves through the localmunity. How could such arge structure, housing so many people, have existed undetected in the forest? Who were these unfortunate souls, and why were they in this remote location? The possibilities were unsettling: had this been some kind of cultpound? A secret prison?

    It quickly became apparent that this case was far beyond the capabilities of the local police force. The sheer scale of the tragedy,bined with the bizarre circumstances surrounding it, demanded resources and expertise that simply weren''t avable in this rural part of Albania.

    News of the incident spread rapidly, reaching the highest levels of government within hours. Recognizing the potential for international implications, the Albanian authorities wasted no time in mobilizing a significant response. Elite units of the military and national police were dispatched to the area.

    Their primary objectives were two: first, to secure the area and prevent any potential evidence from being disturbed or removed. The forest was to be treated as one massive crime scene, with ess strictly controlled. Second, they were tasked withunching aprehensive investigation into every aspect of this mysterious incident.

    Forensic teams were flown in from the capital, bringing with them thetest in crime scene analysis technology. Their job would be to meticulouslyb through the ruins of the wooden structure, attempting to identify the victims and determine the cause of the fire. Was it a tragic ident, or something more sinister?

    Meanwhile, other teams of investigators began the painstaking process of interviewing local residents and checking records. They hoped to uncover any clues rted to that secret house and the identities of those who had lived - and died - there.

    As darkness fell over the forest, the investigation kicked into high gear. The night air, usually filled with the gentle sounds of nocturnal wildlife, was instead dominated by the harsh mechanical roar of helicopters. Their powerful searchlights swept back and forth across the treetops, creating eerie patterns of light and shadow that seemed to bring the forest itself to life.

    On the ground, teams of soldiers and police officers formed a perimeter around the affected area. They set up checkpoints on all roads leading into the forest, turning away curious locals and fanatical journalists alike. Nobody was to enter or leave the area without express authorization.

    <strong>*Scene-Break*</strong>

    Bryan had returned to the forest for the first time in a long while.

    After several hours of careful progress, he finally discovered what he was looking for: a modest rocky outcropping rising above the surrounding forest. Though it was barely a hill, it would serve his purposes. With a subtle flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation, Bryan used his magic to tten the hilltop, creating an ideal spot for his camp.

    As night deepened and the temperature dropped, Bryan turned his attention to more immediate concerns. The forest air had taken on a distinct chill, reminiscent of the early days of winter rather than thete summer season it actually was. Such unseasonable cold was just one of the many anomalies that made this forest a ce of danger.

    Bryan built a campfire in front of his tent, set up an iron grill, and leisurely began roasting sausages.

    As the mes licked the sausages, a rich, savory aroma soon wafted through the air, carried by the gentle breeze. The creatures dwelling nearby caught wind of this tantalizing scent and grew restless. They followed the smell to Bryan''s makeshift camp but were blocked by the surrounding defensive spells. They whimpered nonstop, unable to find a way in.

    As the sausages nearedpletion, their skins crisped to a perfect golden-brown, Bryan added a battered tin kettle to the grill. The vessel, dented and ckened from countless simr nights, soon began to emit wisps of steam as the water inside heated.

    He slowly prepared tea for himself. By the firelight, he watched the tea leaves unfurl in his cup, inhaling the fragrant steam. The lingering scent of blood and violence around him gradually dissipated.

    As Bryan sipped his tea, his mind wandered back to the memory he had witnessed in the bartender''s mind. The woman he had seen, though disguised, was unmistakably Cliodna. Her true face remained hidden, but Bryan would recognize that unique grapevine wand anywhere. It practically hummed with druid''s magical energy and vitality.

    Fromst summer until early August this year, it had taken Kakus a full year to provide crucial information within the mission''s deadline, finally giving him a lead on the whereabouts of the contemporary Druid cult''s priestess.

    By now, Bryan wasn''t as concerned about what had happened in the central temple of Avalon Ind. What truly drove him forward was a burning curiosity. If not for this woman drawing him into these series of events, and his desire to see if she could answer some of his questions, Bryan might have already withdrawn her bounty.

    Although he had found some clues, Bryan''s expression showed little joy.

    Previously, he had seen some concerning details in the Bartender''s memories. First was the middle-aged, fat witch who had stumbled into the Soul Eater''s Den by mistake.

    Bryan had an exceptional memory, and he had some impression of this woman.

    Earlier, when the Greyback incident had just urred, he frequently visited the Ministry of Magic to assist with various public rtions efforts. He had met most of the Ministry employees during that time, and this woman was among them.

    Although he hadn''t heard this witch''s name, after carefully searching his memories, Bryan was certain he hadn''t mistaken her identity. This witch was indeed an employee of the British Ministry of Magic.

    Bryan had no idea why this witch had appeared in Albania. What concerned him was that after being rescued by Cliodna, the witch had followed the priestess deep into the forest and hadn''t been seen since.

    This disappearance was particrly troubling given the strategic location of the Soul Eaters'' Den. Situated at a crucial junction of paths leading into the depths of the jungle, the Den served as a natural checkpoint. The grotesque goat''s head that hung at its entrance was more than just a macabre decoration; it served as the eyes and ears of the Den''s owner, keeping watch over all who passed by.

    The fact that the bartender''s memories showed no sign of the witch''s return could only mean one thing: she was still somewhere in the depths of the primeval forest.

    Secretive cults like the Druids were likely very careful about concealing their whereabouts. Bryan wasn''t surprised that the priestess, who revered nature and life, had saved that witch. However, why had the priestess taken her along? Shouldn''t she have immediately sent her out of the forest after rescuing her from the Soul Eater''s Den? Why had they gone deeper into the forest instead?

    As Bryan chewed thoughtfully on a particrly delicious bit of sausage, he considered the possibilities. The most obvious exnation - that Cliodna intended to convert the witch and send her back to the Ministry as a spy - seemed far too simplistic.

    Historically, cultists and mainstream wizards had maintained a clear separation. If Cliodna truly sought assistance from the wizarding world, she had had two ideal options. The first would be to appeal to Dumbledore, begging him to allow the Druid followers to live in the Forbidden Forest.

    The second would be to use benefits to sway those pureblood families and high-ranking Ministry officials to promote policies that would make British wizarding society more epting of Druid followers. This approach could secure them a ce to live while also keeping the ever-watchful Church at bay.

    In light of these options, the idea of nting a single, low-level spy in the Ministry seemed both risky and ineffective.

    There was another matter that puzzled Bryan.

    After examining the bartender''s memories from the past year, he made a surprising discovery.

    Over the course of the past year sincest summer, Cliodna disguised as a dark witch had been a semi-regr visitor to the Soul Eater''s Den. Yet in all that time, she had never once been seen in thepany of her followers.

    For the Druids, a people deeply connected to nature, living in the forest was not unusual. In fact, it was very much in line with their beliefs and practices. But for their high priestess to abandon her flock for an entire year? That was unprecedented.

    Each time Cliodna had entered the Den, she had been alone. She rarely engaged in conversation, preferring instead to sit in secluded corners, silently observing theings and goings of the other patrons. It was as if she hade to the camp solely to gather information.

    Bryan didn''t doubt Cliodna''s dedication to protecting her cult. But it is precisely here that it gets more confusing.

    As he sipped his tea, now cooled to the perfect temperature, Bryan pondered the possible reasons for Cliodna''s solitary stay. Was she attempting to throw him off her trail? Perhaps she feared that if she remained with her followers and he managed to locate them, they would all be captured at once. It was a usible theory, but something about it didn''t quite fit.

    Bryan set aside his empty cup and picked up the iron tongs once more, turning thest of the sausages on the grill. As he did so, his gaze prated deep into the forest, far beyond where the flickering firelight could reach.

    One question in particr nagged at him: of all the ces in the world, why had Cliodna chosen Albania?

    It wasmon knowledge that this small nation was far from a bastion of peace and tranquility. The country had be a haven for poachers, smugglers, and all manner of unsavory characters seeking to profit from the chaos.

    This very jungle that now surrounded Bryan was a hotbed of illegal activity. Day and night, unscrupulous individuals roamed the woods, their eyes gleaming with greed as they searched for valuable magical creatures or rare materials that could fetch a high price on the ck market.

    For the nature-loving Druid followers, such behavior was abomination. Their entire philosophy revolted against the idea of exploiting the natural world for personal gain. The thought of Cliodna willingly choosing to neighbor with individuals she must find utterly hateful seemed absurd.

    Moreover....

    Bryan took a sip of tea, his expression darkening slightly.

    Rumor had it that Voldemort, now a shadow of his former self, was hiding in these very woods.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0409 Search Continued

    0409 Search Continued

    The first rays of dawn prated the ancient forest. The sunlight, brimming with infinite vitality, broke throughyers uponyers of dark green leaves, casting mesmerizing shadows on the dew-dampened ground below. This was the best moment of the day.

    In this isted primeval forest, far removed from the bustle of human settlements, the cool morning air was charged with an indescribable energy. The asional birds soared gracefully over the vast canopy. Their clear, melodious chirping didn''t disturb the forest''s tranquility but rather enhanced its serenity, adding a sweet note to the symphony of nature.

    The night''s deep sleep had worked wonders, dispelling the bone-deep fatigue that had gued him after his grueling half-month sea journey and his subsequent struggle against the formidable defensive magic of Azkaban. As the gentle, warm sunlight caressed his cheek, his eyelids fluttered open, revealing a pair of eyes that sparkled with renewed vitality.

    With practiced efficiency, Bryan spent the next half hour attending to his morning routine. For breakfast, he consumed a simple yet nourishing meal of dried fruits and nuts. As thest remnants of sleep fell away, Bryan began to pack up his tent. With a few skillful movements of his wand, the tent folded in on itself, shrinking down to the size of a small pouch which he tucked away in his robes.

    He scanned his surroundings with a slightly vignt gaze. The forest, while breathtakingly beautiful, could harbor unknown dangers. Satisfied that no immediate threats lurked nearby, Bryan raised his wand and tapped it gently against his forehead. A sensation like a cold stream flowed down his body, and gradually, as if he were a chameleon adapting to its surroundings, his figure blended into the rocky mountain backdrop until he disappearedpletely from view.

    Last night, Bryan had ruthlessly swept away the gathering ce of dark wizards in albania. In theing days, this event would undoubtedly cause a stir in Europe''s underground world.

    His actions had set in motion a chain of events with far-reaching consequences. The dark wizards still in the area might initially flee in fear. However, Bryan knew that this would be short-lived. Soon, they would gather their forces to seek revenge. This was almost a certainty, Each of the dark wizards he had killed had mentors, friends, or followers who wouldn''t turn a blind eye to this massacre. In the world of magic, exterminating an entire lineage was more than just a crime - it was a blood feud, a debt that could only be repaid in kind. Moreover, the wizards native to this country wouldn''t let such an insult to their sovereignty go unchallenged.

    Yet, the consequences wouldn''t be limited to the dark underbelly of the Wizarding world. Dark wizards, despite their nefarious practices, were still part of the wider wizardingmunity. The International Confederation of Wizards, upon receiving news of this incident, wouldn''t sit idly by. They would likely dispatch their own investigators, adding anotheryer ofplexity to the situation.

    Bryan wasn''t afraid of these consequences. He had acted with full awareness of what his actions would provoke. However, he knew that in theing days, this serene forest would undoubtedly be a hive of activity, buzzing with various factions all pursuing their own agendas. Time was of the essence - he had to investigate what he came for before the situation became even more turbulent.

    Tracking wizards in the forest was a far simpler task than tracking magical creatures. Magical creatures were part of the forest ecosystem, which helped conceal their tracks from all but the most skilled trackers. Wizards, on the other hand, were intruders in thisnd. Despite their best efforts, they always left obvious traces of their passing.

    Even experienced wizards, well-versed in concealment spells and stealth techniques, couldn''tpletely erase their presence. To a true expert like Bryan, these very attempts at concealment were a form of exposure, like a bright g signaling their presence.

    Two hours of meticulous trackingter, Bryan found himself deep in the heart of the forest. The term "rarely visited" would have been a gross understatement for the sheer istion of this ce. The surrounding trees were colossal giants, each nearly a hundred feet tall, their trunks wider than a man could embrace. Their canopies formed a dense roof far overhead, allowing only dappled sunlight to reach the forest floor. The ground itself was a thick carpet of fallen leaves. Each step Bryan took caused a wave-like undtion in the leaf litter, the disturbance spreading out in arge area around his feet.

    The air here was heavy and oppressive, filled with a deadly miasma that seemed to cling to everything. Intermingled with this ominous presence was a strong scent of alcohol, an inappropriate note in this ominous atmosphere. The source of this unexpected aroma soon became apparent as Bryan passed by arge patch of fruit trees. The fallen fruits from these trees had umted over time, forming a thickyer of decaying fruit pulp on the forest floor. Through some quirk of nature, this fruity mess had undergone natural fermentation, unexpectedly brewing into a strange fruit wine. The result was a small, bizarre fruit wineke, its surface viscous and bubbling slightly with ongoing fermentation.

    Logically, such an abundance of easily essible food and drink should attract arge number of forest creatures. Oddly enough, the area around the fruit wineke was eerily devoid of life. On the viscous surface of theke, Bryan could see only the bleached skeletons of some unfortunate small animals, but no living creatures.

    What had led Bryan to this strange and ominous ce were some unusual traces along thekeshore. The soft, rotting ground was marred by thick imprints that looked unsettlingly like those left by an impossiblyrge python slithering by.

    Compared to other areas of the forest, the nt life here, while still impressively tall, was not as densely packed. The towering trees had clearly monopolized the avable nutrients, leaving little for the shrubs and bushes. As a result, grass, smaller woody nts, and vines struggled to survive in this harsh environment, creating an unusually open and sparse forest floor.

    The deadly miasma that permeated the air lent an eerie quality to everything in sight. The dim, filtered light and swirling mists created vague, shifting shadows that seemed to move of their own ord. It was all too easy to imagine dementors, lurking just out of sight, waiting to pounce on him.

    Bryan was cautious and chose to float in mid-air rather than risk leaving tracks or disturbing the environment.

    From this vantage point, he looked down at the forest floor, his keen eyes picking out details that others might miss. The tracks on the pile of rotting leaves became increasingly chaotic and ovepping as he progressed. It seemed he was approaching their of the mysterious python, but Bryan, didn''t rush headlong into potential danger.

    Instead, he changed direction, floating towards a particrly tall redwood tree. His gaze traveled up its massive trunk to its crown, and what he saw there caused his brow to furrow in concern. The treetop was withered and lifeless, a stark contrast to the vibrant green of its neighbors. This wasn''t the result of any natural disease or parasite; the tree had mysteriously lost all vitality in a season when all other nt life was thriving.

    As Bryan''s eyes swept the surrounding area, he realized that this wasn''t an isted incident. Many trees in this part of the forest were in the same condition. Floating closer, Bryan reached out to brush his fingertips over the charred-looking trunk of the redwood. As he did so, a strange light flickered in his eyes.

    These trees hadn''t died due to any natural cause. Instead, it was as if their very life force had been extracted by some unknown power, leaving behind only these withered remnants.

    While wizards weren''t without means to achieve such effects, simr results were typically achieved through dark magic. The effects of such magic were usually brutal and obvious, like draining a reservoir by blowing up its dam. However, the situation before him was different, more subtle. It was as if someone had found a way to open the dam''s channel gates in a much gentler.

    As Bryan continued his exploration, the signs of unnatural decay became more noticeable. He came across numerous animal skeletons. Most of these remains were pitch ck, as if the flesh had been eaten away by some kind of potent venom. Other bones werepletely shattered. These unfortunate animals had likely been constricted to death by the giant python.

    Everything Bryan observed was confirming a certain possibility, one that he had considered but hoped wasn''t true.

    Ahead on the winding path, partially obscured by the ever-present mist, loomed a truly massive banyan tree. This botanical behemoth was a world unto itself, its sprawling canopy and aerial roots covered an area nearly half the size of a Quidditch field. At the base of the main trunk, which was wider than many houses, was a cavernous tree hollowrge enough tofortably house a small giant.

    Bryan''s sharp gaze swept the surroundings once more, his senses on high alert. His grip on his wand tightened imperceptibly, ready to cast a spell at a moment''s notice.

    Someone or something had attempted to conceal their magical traces, but to Bryan''s senses, there were still obvious signs of disturbance in the ambient magical field. These traces were simr to the tracks left by the giant python he had found earlier on the shores of the fruit wineke and on the rotting leaf-covered ground.

    The magic residue here was highly toxic, extremely corrosive, and radiated an aura of intense danger.

    Steeling himself, Bryan cautiously entered the tree hollow. The scene inside made him frown, his brow furrowing in concentration as he took in every detail.

    Unlike the decay-filled atmosphere outside, the air here wasn''t saturated with the thick scent of rot and fermentation. The fallen leaves carpeting the ground were surprisingly dry, as if someone or something had taken the time to tidy up this space.

    At the far end of the spacious hollow, there was a small area where the fallen leaves were piled noticeably thicker than in other areas. This anomaly immediately caught Bryan''s attention. He floated over, his eyes fixed intently on the leaf pile. After a moment of careful observation, he made a subtle gesture with his finger. In response to this silentmand, a small object zipped through the air and into his waiting hand.

    It was a scale, and not just any scale. Its size and unique patterning left no doubt - it must have been shed by the giant python that had been active in this area.

    Bryan examined the scale closely, turning it over in his hands and muttering a few quiet incantations. After a thorough inspection, he carefully tucked the scale into a pocket of his robes forter study.

    Continuing his meticulous search of the hollow, Bryan soon made another discovery. In the very center of the space, partially hidden by the leaf litter, was a small nt seedling. It was clear that this seedling had only recently broken through the soil''s barrier, perhaps just a few days ago.

    Bryan pondered this new finding for a moment. Then, with a movement of his wand, he conjured a small gust of wind. This magical breeze gentlypressed the leaves around the seedling, revealing the soil beneath.

    The moment the soil was exposed, Bryan''s brow furrowed involuntarily, his expression a mix of concern and disgust. The earth near the seedling was much darker than the surrounding area, with a strange, sticky wetness that glistened ominously in the dim light.

    Oveing his initial disgust, Bryan reached down and touched some of the soil with his finger. He brought it close to his face and inhaled deeply, immediately regretting the action as a rotten smell assaulted his nostrils. His heart sank as he recognized the unmistakable scent of decaying human flesh and blood, corroded and destroyed by powerful magic.

    A grim question formed in Bryan''s mind: Was this the remains of Cliodna, or perhaps the unfortunate British Ministry of Magic employee she had taken from the Soul Eater''s Den?

    The answer, he realized with a sinking feeling, was all too obvious.

    "Hah¡ª" Bryan let out a long, weary sigh as he brushed the soil from his hands. His gaze drifted to the lingering magical residue in the air. His eyes, usually sharp and determined, now showed a hint of mncholy and confusion.

    "You two..." he murmured softly, his words meant for ears that could no longer hear, "how did you end up with each other?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0410 Approaching

    0410 Approaching

    Bryan felt as if he had returned to the old days, the days when he would run all over Europe topletemissions.

    Although the trip to Albania had been fruitless, it didn''t mean this journey was meaningless. On the contrary, he had gained a lot. Therge tree hollow in the primeval forest was clearly where Voldemort, who had once terrorized the British wizarding world, had been hiding after losing his powers.

    For over a decade, Voldemort had been lurking in that forest, but now he had left, and his whereabouts were unknown.

    Truth be told, Bryan cared little for Voldemort''s current location. He understood all too well the futility of hunting down the weakened dark wizard before they had sessfully identified and destroyed all of his Horcruxes.

    But Bryan still used the aura on that snake scale to track him down.

    He could ignore whatever tricks Voldemort was up to, but.......

    In his previous conversation with Dumbledore, Dumbledore''s intentions had been clear: he was prepared to allow Voldemort to regain his powers. In their earlier discussions, they had almost confirmed that Voldemort would use Harry. This meant that, at this stage, Voldemort was likely plotting how to get his hands on Harry.

    What Bryan cared more about was why Cliodna, that woman, had gotten involved with Voldemort.

    Although he had suffered at her hands, Bryan knew well that this Druid priestess wasn''t an evil person. On the contrary, because of her faith, she should be seen as a kind person weed by others. Voldemort, on the other hand, was called the most evil wizard in history. The two werepletely different.

    Yet, somehow, against all logic and reason, their paths had converged. This unexpected union filled Bryan with a sense of foreboding. He couldn''t shake the feeling that events were spiraling rapidly out of control, leaving him powerless to intervene.

    At the same time, an unsettling notion took root in his mind - the idea that perhaps all of this was predestined, that the wheel of fate was turning along a predetermined track, and his presence here was merely another gear in the grand machinery of destiny.

    Dumbledore certainly wouldn''t want him to confront Voldemort now, but Bryan couldn''t pretend not to see this. He had to investigate and find out what circumstances had led Voldemort and Cliodna, two people frompletely different worlds, to join forces.

    They hadn''t chosen Apparition, the most convenient way to leave the Albanian forest, but instead took remote paths far from the mundane world.

    After careful consideration, Bryan guessed that Voldemort''s current physical condition must still be incredibly fragile, leaving him unable to withstand the intense pressure and magical strain that Apparition would ce on his weakened form. This realization brought a glimmer of hope to Bryan''s troubled mind. If Voldemort was indeed this vulnerable, it would make the task of tracking him considerably easier.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trekking through the unforgiving wilderness - sleeping under the stars, foraging for food- Bryan emerged from the dense forest into thend of human habitation. For the first time since beginning his pursuit, the faint magical aura emanating from the snake scale led him to a settlement popted by people.

    The vige sprawled across a series of gently rolling hills, surrounded by vast stretches of farnd. A narrow, winding road snaked its way through the countryside, eventually leading to a town thaty dozens of miles in the distance, barely visible as a smudge on thendscape.

    As Bryan crested the final hill, the setting sun painted the sky in a breathtaking array of vibrant oranges, deep crimsons, and soft purples. The fiery orb slowly sank towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the tranquilndscape and bathing everything in a warm, golden glow.

    Standing on this elevated vantage point, his keen eyes scanning the terrain before him, Bryan''s gaze was drawn to a once-grand building that stood proudly atop the highest hill in the vicinity. Though time and neglect had clearly taken their toll on the structure, there was no denying its former splendor. Even in its dpidated state, it exuded an air of faded nobility and long-forgotten importance.

    <strong>Little Hangleton.</strong>

    A rusty sign at the vige entrance told him where he was.

    As Bryan stood motionless at the vige entrance, his eyes fixed on the ancient sign, the rtive silence of the countryside was suddenly shattered by the approaching rumble of machinery. A battered farm vehicle, its engine nking and sputtering in protest, lumbered up the road behind him. The driver, clearly impatient to reach his destination, leaned on the horn, producing a harsh st that echoed across the hills.

    Startled from his trance by the unexpected noise, Bryan turned to face the oing vehicle. He offered an apologetic smile to the weather-worn farmer who sat hunched behind the wheel, then quickly stepped to the side of the road, allowing the cumbersome machine to pass.

    As thest rays of sunlight began to fade from the sky, Bryan realized that the hour had grownte. The time for the evening meal was fast approaching, and his stomach growled in anticipation, reminding him that it had been far too long since hisst proper meal.

    All around him, the vigers who had worked in the nearby fields throughout the long day were now hurrying back home for dinner. The air was filled with the sound of cheerful chatter as friends and neighbors exchanged pleasantries and discussed the events of the day. asionally, a burst of loudughter would erupt from one group or another.

    It wasn''t long after Bryan had entered the outskirts of the vige that he began to notice something distinctly unusual about the behavior of its inhabitants. As a stranger in these parts, he had expected his arrival to garner some degree of attention from the locals. What he had not anticipated, however, was the intensity and nature of their scrutiny.

    Almost without exception, every viger who caught sight of Bryan would immediately stop whatever they had been doing, and stare at him intently Their eyes were mostly filled with vignce and wariness, with a hint of curiosity. After he passed by, these vigers would gather and whisper among themselves, pointing at his back.

    After enduring this bizarre treatment for some time, Bryan decided that a more direct approach might be necessary if he hoped to unravel the mystery of the vigers'' strange behavior. Pausing in the middle of the dusty road, he turned his attention to a young girl who was busily collectingundry from a clothesline in a nearby yard.

    "Excuse me, miss¡ª"

    The young girl waspletely caught off guard by Bryan''s sudden address. She was so startled that she almost dropped the clothes in her hands and darted into her house. But when her eyes caught the handsome face of the gray-haired young man, she suppressed her fear and, blushing, spoke tremblingly.

    "Oh, what?" she stammered, her fingers clutching tightly at the fabric in her arms.

    "I was wondering if there''s a ce to eat nearby?"

    Noticing the girl''s lingering nervousness, Bryan decided to offer a bit more context, hoping to put her at ease. He bowed slightly, maintaining his polite demeanor, and pointed down at his mud-caked shoes. "I''ve walked a long way today, perhaps it''s time to stop and reward my stomach with a hot meal¡ª"

    "Oh!" the girl eximed, her initial fear giving way to a mixture of understanding and shy interest. She took a deep breath, one hand moving to rest over her rapidly beating heart, and then pointed Bryan in a specific direction. "There... there''s a pub called The Hanged Man that provides food and drinks for travelers,"

    Armed with this information, Bryan set off in search of the establishment. It took him roughly ten minutes of wandering through the winding streets of Little Hangleton before he found himself standing before the vige''s sole pub.

    The Hanged Man was a short, weathered building that had clearly seen better days. Its front was marred by peeling paint and crumbling masonry, while a creaking sign bearing the pub''s grim name swungzily in the evening breeze.

    As Bryan pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside, he was immediately struck by the pub''s gloomy interior. A thickyer of dust seemed to coat every surface, from the scarred bar top to the mismatched collection of tables and chairs that were haphazardly scattered throughout the room. The air was heavy with the acrid smell of stale tobo smoke and spilled ale.

    Given the hour, Bryan had expected to find the pub bustling with activity as vigers gathered to rx after a long day''s work. Instead, the ce was eerily quiet, with only a handful of patrons upying the barstools near the far end of the room. These men, clearly deep in their cups, were muttering incoherently to themselves or to no one in particr.

    Bryan could be sure that something had happened in this vige because when he pushed open the door and entered the pub, still surveying the decor of the hall, those drunken men suddenly sobered up quite a bit and eyed him warily.

    "Wee¡ª"

    Although business was poor, the nearly bald pub owner''s greeting was stiff and not at all weing,

    "Esteemed guest," he continued, the honorific sounding more like an usation than a courtesy, "what do you need?"

    "Phew¡ª"

    Choosing to ignore the less-than-weing reception, Bryan made a show of brushing the dust from his travel-worn clothing. He inhaled deeply, then released a long, weary sigh.

    "Honestly, right now I''d rather get something to eat to appease my growling stomach. Of course, if you happen to have any Ogden''s Old Firewhisky, I wouldn''t mind a few sips¡ª"

    "Ogden''s Old Firewhisky?"

    The pub owner and his few familiar customers looked at each other in confusion, not understanding what this young stranger was talking about.

    Realizing his slipup, Bryan quickly retreated. "Oh, please don''t mind what I said¡ª" he interjected, shing an apologetic smile as he set his battered suitcase down on the nearest table. "I simply need something to eat. Anything you have avable will do just fine."

    After a moment''s hesitation, the pub owner went to the kitchen, leaving Bryan alone with the suspicious gazes of the other customers boring into the back of his skull. He pretended not to notice their scrutiny, instead focusing his attention on the worn tabletop before him.

    Three minutester, the pub owner brought two ham sandwiches to Bryan on a chipped te, said "Enjoy your meal," and quickly ran back to the bar.

    Bryan pretended not to notice the drunken customers staring at the back of his head non-stop. He buried his head in the sandwiches on the te. Perhaps because he was wolfing them down too quickly, Bryan choked after just one bite of the second sandwich. He coughed violently several times, his face turning red.

    "Cough, cough, sorry¡ª" Bryan managed to sputter between gasps, waving frantically towards the bar. "Could I get something to drink?"

    A ss of sweet liquor was hastily provided, and Bryan gratefully gulped it down. As the burning liquid coursed down his throat, he felt his breathing ease and hisplexion gradually return to normal. He patted his chest, taking a few deep breaths to fully recover from his near-choking experience. As he did so, Bryan couldn''t help but notice that the other patrons in the pub had abandoned all pretense of discretion and were now openly staring at him, their postures tense and guarded.

    A wry chuckle escaped Bryan''s lips as he surveyed the room. The absurdity of the situation ¨C a stranger choking on a sandwich while being watched like a dangerous criminal ¨C was not lost on him. Deciding that a direct approach might be the best way to address the palpable tension in the air, Bryan cleared his throat and said to the pub owner.

    "Can I ask you something, sir?"

    "What?"

    The owner''s fist on the bar suddenly tightened, and he responded vigntly.

    "Just a simple question¡ª" Bryan shrugged, nodding towards the wary customers, "I was wondering, I mean, I''ve been to many ces in my travels, but I''ve never encountered a vige quite as... cautious... towards outsiders as Little Hangleton. Is this some sort of local custom or tradition I''m unaware of?"

    "No¡ª"

    Before the pub owner could speak, one of the outspoken customers among those sitting together said,

    "It''s because of old Frank!"

    Then this viger was immediately warned with a re from the pub owner.

    "Old Frank?"

    Bryan''s smile became even more friendly,

    "Why not tell me more about this Mr. Frank? Ah, sorry, I''ve been in the wild for too long and have forgotten my manners. Barkeeper, please give each of these kind gentlemen a ss of sherry, on my tab!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0411 Frank Bryce

    0411 Frank Bryce

    Ten minutester, Bryan was already sitting at a table with the local vigers in the tavern, and several more empty sses had appeared on the table in front of them.

    "So that''s how it is¡ª" Bryan wiped the sweet wine from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and said with interest, "You were wary of me because old Frank died under mysterious circumstances, and the police told you to watch out for strangers around the vige recently."

    Among the group of vigers, sat Dott, the oldest one withpletely white hair, He let out a weary sigh and said.

    "Who could have guessed?" His voice trembled with emotion, "It was just yesterday afternoon, that I caught sight of old Frank. There he was, hunched over his beloved garden, tending to the vibrant blooms he so cherished. Little did I know that fleeting glimpse would be thest time I''dy eyes on the old codger." Dott paused, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Truth be told, Frank''s life wasn''t exactly blessed with good fortune, was it?"

    "Aye, poor old fellow," the bartender said. Perhaps because Bryan had been generous, buying them many drinks, he no longer saw Bryan''s young face as that of a murderer.

    "When Frank was just ad, no older than you are now," he gestured towards Bryan with the ss, "he answered the call of duty and marched off to war. He even lent a hand around here when times were tough, never asking for anything in return."

    Bryan maintained an attentive posture as the vigers reminisced about Frank who was usually ignored but now pitied after death. Sensing a lull in the conversation, Bryan seized the moment to interject,

    "Is it possible," he began, his brow furrowed in thoughtful consideration, "that Mr. Frank''s passing was simply the result of natural causes? I mean, from what you''re all saying, this Mr. Frank was quite old, wasn''t he?"

    Bryan''s question plunged the tavern into silence. The drunks stared at him, clearly indicating they had juicier gossip to share, but only if he paid the price.

    "Excuse me, boss¡ª" The bartender behind the counter was already ready to act. The moment Bryan waved his hand, he brought over several sses of sherry to the table.

    Old Dott, his rheumy eyes now twinkling with anticipation, didn''t hesitate for a moment. With a dexterity that contradicted his old age, he grasped the fragile stem of his ss and, in one fluid motion, tilted it back. The sherry disappeared down his throat with a resounding slurp, leaving not a drop behind. After smacking his lips with undisguised satisfaction, savoring the lingering sweetness on his pte, Dott leaned in close to Bryan.

    "It''s not as simple as you might think, young man," Dott began, his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying easily in the hushed tavern. "The police, they''re at their wits'' end, you see. They''ve examined Frank''s body from top to bottom, inside and out, and couldn''t find a blessed thing amiss. Not a mark, not a scratch, nothing to suggest foul y." He paused dramatically, his eyes darting around the room as if checking for eavesdroppers before continuing. "But when they carried him out of the Riddle House¡ª"

    "Sorry," Bryan interjected abruptly, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the rough wooden table, and fixed Dott with an intense gaze. "Whose house did you say?"

    "The Riddle House," Dott repeated, a note of excitement creeping into his voice. "You must haveid eyes on it, surely? That grand old mansion perched atop the hill, looking down on our humble vige like some brooding giant."

    Dott''s wrinkled hands waved wildly as he spoke, nearly upsetting his empty sherry ss. "That house, it''s changed hands more times than I can count over the years, but originally? Oh, originally it belonged to the Riddle family. Mr. and Mrs. Riddle, they were, and their son, Tom Riddle - a right ne''er-do-well if ever there was one. They all met their end in that very house, fifty years agoe next month. Just like old Frank, they were frightened to death, the lot of them, without so much as a scratch or bruise to show for it."

    The bartender, who had been hovering nearby, eager to contribute to the conversation, chimed in. "The police, they''ve got long memories ''round these parts. That case from all those years back? It''s still fresh in their minds, like it happened yesterday. That''s why they''re dead certain Frank''s passing wasn''t no ident or act of nature. It''s got to be murder, in and simple."

    Bryan nodded imperceptibly, taking a measured sip of his drink. The amber liquid swirled in his ss, catching the dim light of the tavern as he contemted the information. "That''s understandable,"

    Suddenly, one of the other drinkers at the table - a man whose cheeks were flushed with the warmth of alcohol and whose eyes sparkled with the need to contribute - burst out, unable to contain himself any longer. "You''ve left out something crucial!" he eximed, his words tumbling out in an urgent rush. It was clear that he felt upset, as the majority of the tale had been recounted by old Dott and the bartender, leaving him with precious little to add.

    "When the Riddle family died back then," the man continued, his voice rising with excitement, "old Frank was the only soul still drawing breath in that godforsaken house. Naturally, the police thought he must be the one behind it all. But Frank, he swore up and down he was innocent as a newborn babe." The man paused, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The only thing - the only thing, mind you - that Frank told the police was that on the very day of the incident, he caught sight of a small boy lurking near the house. Ad no one in the vige had ever pped eyes on before. Can you believe it? The police, they thought he was spinning yarns, making it all up!"

    With this revtion, the group erupted into a cacophony of heated debate. Each viger seemed to have their own firmly held opinion on the matter, and they were not shy about expressing it. Some argued passionately for the existence of this mysterious boy, their voices rising as they spected on whether he could have been the perpetrator behind the Riddle family''s demise. Others scoffed at the notion, dismissing it as the ramblings of a frightened old man.

    The debate took a darker turn as some spected a chilling theory - could this same boy, now a man grown, have returned after all these years to silence old Frank once and for all? The tavern buzzed with the electric current of spection and fear.

    Throughout the energetic discussion, Bryan maintained a polite smile, nodding at appropriate intervals and appearing to listen intently. Yet, to a keen observer, there was a disconnect between his outward demeanor and the look in his eyes. Those eyes, usually sharp and attentive, now held a hint of cold indifference.

    Inwardly, Bryan''s mind was racing, processing the information. He hadn''t expected that Voldemort, after all his extensive travels and nefarious deeds, would have retreated to the scene of his earliest crimes. There was no doubt in Bryan''s mind that the former owners of the hilltop mansion had met their end at Voldemort''s hands.

    <strong>Tom Riddle.</strong>

    The name echoed in Bryan''s thoughts. Voldemort, like Bryan himself, had been an orphan. But when Voldemort had finally uncovered the truth about his father''s family, instead of seeking reconciliation, he had chosen a path of cold-blooded murder.

    Bryan found himself unable to muster much interest in pondering theplex web of love, hate, and vengeance that must have driven Voldemort to such extreme actions. While their backgrounds shared some simrities, Bryan''s circumstances were unique, setting him apart in ways the others could never understand. Voldemort, on the other hand, had chosen the most radical and violent course of action avable to him.

    Abruptly, Bryan steered the conversation in a new direction, asking a question that seemed, on the surface, unrted to the current discussion. "Has old Frank beenid to rest yet?"

    The question caught the vigers off guard, momentarily silencing their heated debate. They exchanged puzzled nces before the bartender cleared his throat and responded.

    "The police, they took Frank''s body away for further examination," he exined, his brow furrowed in concentration as he recalled the details. "They haven''t returned him to us yet. I reckon they''re still trying to get to the bottom of what caused Frank''s death, but if you ask me, they''re on a fool''s errand. It was the same back then, with the Riddles. No answers, just more questions."

    Bryan nodded silently, absorbing this information without furtherment.

    As the night wore on and the vigers'' tales became increasingly embellished and far-fetched, Bryan found his thoughts drifting to the Riddle House itself. To be fair, he had to admit, it was indeed a respectable and luxurious mansion. Its location, set apart from the vige and perched atop a hill, offered both solitude and a impressive view of the surrounding wilderness.

    Under different circumstances, Bryan might have been tempted to approach the current owner with an offer to purchase the property. Its grandeur and istion held a certain appeal. However, two factors gave him pause: first, he already had secure amodations elsewhere, and second - perhaps more significantly - this was Voldemort''s ancestral home.

    Later that night, long after the vigers had stumbled home to their beds and the tavern had fallen silent, Bryan made his way to the Riddle House. The moon hung low and full in the sky, casting an eerie silvery light over thendscape and throwing the mansion''s imposing silhouette into sharp relief against the star-studded sky.

    As Bryan approached the house, a glowing orb materialized in the air before him, casting a soft, ethereal light that illuminated the grand staircase leading to the second floor. The steps, once polished and gleaming, were now covered in a thickyer of dust, broken only by a chaotic array of footprints. These, Bryan guessed, must have been left by the police in their frantic rush upstairs upon receiving news of Frank''s death.

    Not wishing toplicate matters by leaving his own tracks, Bryan had been levitating since the moment he entered the house. Now, as he approached the police cordon strung across the staircase, he simply increased his floating height, easily clearing the barrier.

    With a sudden burst of speed, Bryan elerated upwards, crossing the distance to the second floor in the blink of an eye. The whoosh of disced air was the only sign of his passing.

    Bryan didn''t waste time surveying his surroundings. The vigers and police had already thoroughly examined the house, which meant any wizards involved in recent events had long since departed. Instead, he floated directly towards the room where, ording to the vigers, the body of Frank Bryce had been discovered.

    Identifying the correct room was simple- the Muggle police had erected another separate cordon across its threshold.

    Bryan''s mind shed back to the exnation he had heard in the tavern. On the night of Frank''s death, all had seemed normal in the sleepy vige. A handful of the usual drunkards had drunk away the hours at the pub, drinking until the bartender, mindful of thete hour, had finally shooed them out shortly after midnight. These drunkards were making their way home when something extraordinary caught their attention.

    A brilliant green light had suddenly erupted from a second-floor window of the Riddle House sending a shiver down the spines of all who witnessed it.

    Apanying the green light was a thunderous boom, as if something had exploded.

    Spurred on by liquid courage and an irresistible curiosity, these drunkards had cast aside their fear and charged up the hill, intent on investigating the source of the mysterious light and sound. It was then that they had stumbled upon the lifeless body of old Frank.

    The police were deeply skeptical of these drunkards''s testimony because after carefully examining the scene, they found no signs that anything had been disturbed, nor any old objects damaged in an explosion. No, the police suspected there had been no explosion or green light at all, and these idle troublemakers had probably just seen a sh of lightning.

    <em>''It had been cleaned up hastily¡ª''</em>

    Traces of magic are not easy to conceal. The room''s arrangement was unchanged from half a century ago¡ªthe old firece, the dusty armchairs, the creaky wooden floor, the ancestral oil paintings on the walls riddled with wormholes¡ªeverything, from a Muggle''s perspective, seemed perfectly normal.

    But to Bryan''s eyes, there were clear signs that magic had been used to repair things.

    It was obvious to Bryan that someone had attempted to repair and conceal evidence of magical activity, but they had done so hastily, leaving traces that his eyes could easily discern.

    Outside the window, the overgrownwn was bathed in moonlight. The uninvited breeze that had invaded the mansion sang a bloody bad.

    Bryan took out his wand and tracedplex, spell patterns in front of him.

    Gradually, the shimmering grains of light arranged themselves into ordered patterns, forming ghostly images that hung suspended in the air. These ethereal pictures flickered and shifted, reying scenes from the recent past like some sort of magical, three-dimensional film.

    Bryan retreated to the far wall, his back pressed against the peeling wallpaper as he observed the unfolding spectacle with keen interest. The y of light and shadow cast by the magical reconstruction threw his sharp-edged profile into stark relief, highlighting the cold, stern set of his features. His eyes, reflecting the dancing lights, seemed to glow with an inner fire as he absorbed every detail of the scenes ying out before him.

    As abruptly as it had begun, the magical rey came to an end. The glowing motes of light scattered and faded, leaving the room once again shrouded in moonlit gloom. Everything returned to its previous state of dusty abandonment, as if the extraordinary disy had never urred.

    In the wake of the fading magic, a single voice broke the oppressive silence of the abandoned mansion.

    <strong>"Bertha Jorkins."</strong>

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0412 The Letter

    0412 The Letter

    Thanks to Bryan''s quick response and timely tracking, coupled with the fact that the two wizards who hastily left the old mansion didn''t put much effort into concealing their traces, Bryan seized the opportunity and saw some crucial information.

    The Druids and Voldemort had be allies.

    This was no longer in doubt. The priestess had made an extremely unwise choice.In the twisted psyche of a dark wizard like Voldemort, there was no concept such as allies. To him, the world was starkly divided into two categories: those foolish enough to stand against him, destined to be crushed beneath his heel, and those who would serve him, willingly or otherwise. There was no middle ground, no room for equals or true allies in Voldemort''s vision of domination.

    Bryan''s mind drifted back to the brief time he had spent in Cliodna''spany. Though their interaction hadsted only a few days, it had been enough for Bryan to form a solid impression of the priestess. She was many things - powerful, enigmatic, and at times inscrutable - but a fool she was not. Her intelligence and cunning were evident in her every calcted action.

    This made her decision all the more baffling and concerning. Due to Dumbledore''s relentless efforts to contain the growing threat, Voldemort''s reign of terror had primarily affected the British wizardingmunity at its peak. While other European magical societies had been spared the brunt of his malice, stories of his cruelty and the atrocitiesmitted in his name had spread far and wide.

    It was inconceivable that Cliodna, with her vastwork of followers could be ignorant of Voldemort''s true nature. The Dark Lord''s reputation as a ruthless, power-hungry tyrant was well-established. Yet, despite all this, she had chosen to ally herself with him.

    Bryan''s sharp mind began piecing together the puzzle, drawing connections between seemingly disparate events. After departing from the Isle of Avalon, Cliodna had swiftly made her way to Albania. This was no coincidence - Albania had long been rumored to be Voldemort''s hiding ce. It was clear now that Cliodna''s journey had been purposeful, seeking to establish contact with the Dark Lord.

    Thinking back to what happened in the temple at the end of their journey to Avalon, the strange behavior of the Caduceus, and the shock and bewilderment Cliodna had shown at the time...

    The source of Cliodna''s irrational behavior was bing clearer.

    Then there was that unfortunate female employee from the Ministry of Magic. Now, Bryan knew her name was Bertha Jorkins.

    Voldemort had interrogated Bertha Jorkins, so what exactly had he heard from this female employee''s mouth?

    Needless to say, the Triwizard Tournament must have been leaked. Although this event was still in the confidential stage, that was only for the general public of the wizarding world. Those with some status and position knew the basic situation. When Bryan was in Paris participating in the specific implementation of this event, many people in the British wizarding world had written to him, asking if they could help advertise products from their alchemy factories during the tournament.

    But beyond this widely-anticipated event, what other crucial information had Bertha provided?

    At this point, Bryan had no way of knowing. Everyone has countless secrets in their hearts. What did this ordinary female employee of the Ministry of Magic know, and was this information valuable to Voldemort?

    In the scene he had just reconstructed, Voldemort and Cliodna''s conversation had also mentioned Harry...

    Using that boy... no weaknesses...

    Bathed in moonlight, Bryan shook his head slightly. Dumbledore, that old fellow, really had thought of everything...

    Voldemort probably wanted to use the Triwizard Tournament to involve Harry, which meant that Harry would definitely have to participate in the event.

    Bryan had been involved in formting many of the rules for the tournament. For safety reasons, they had clearly stipted the age of the champions participating in the event selection, and Harry didn''t meet the requirements. So, he was nning to...

    Voldemort and Cliodna must have guessed that their conflict had attracted the attention of Muggles, so after hurriedly cleaning up here, this time, they had left by Apparition. Moreover, to prevent being located, they must have cast some defensive spells on themselves, which had rendered the snake scale in Bryan''s possession ineffective.

    With measured steps, Bryan glided out of the room where he had made his startling discoveries. Rather than leaving the mansion entirely, he soared to a room on the second floor, one featuring an open terrace that offered a wide view of the surroundingndscape.

    Standing there, bathed in the soft radiance of moonlight, Bryan''s gaze swept across the boundless wilderness stretched out before him. The night sky above was a tapestry of twinkling stars, their eternal light a stark contrast to the darkness that threatened to engulf the wizarding world. In this moment of quiet contemtion, Bryan''s mind worked furiously, weighing options and considering the best course of action.

    Indeed, Dumbledore hoped that he could remain restrained about what would happen in theing year. He wanted to let Voldemort expose himself from the darkness, even at the cost of putting Harry at some risk. He hoped Bryan could remain restrained, standing by idly.

    The night wind suddenly gusted, and the glow in Bryan''s eyes became as deep as the night sky.

    Standing by idly was one thing, but allowing events to spiral beyond his control was quite another. Everything must remain within his sight, within his sphere of control. Next...

    <strong>Screech!</strong>

    His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sharp, distinctive screech that cut through the howling wind. Bryan''s body tensed, his hand instinctively moving towards his wand. But he quickly recognized this sound. It was the call of Kakus Fawley''s owl.

    Unfolding the letter, there was only one sentence written:

    <em>"Dear Mr. Watson,</em>

    <em>The situation is urgent. Please set out for London immediately upon receiving this letter to meet me in person.</em>

    <em>Yours faithfully,</em>

    <em>Kakus Fawley"</em>

    An hourter, Bryan returned to London and met Kakus Fawley in Diagon Alley.

    This fellow wasn''t even staying in the underground world, but was squatting at the entrance of Knockturn Alley, anxiously pacing back and forth. Bryan had known this guy for quite a few years, but he had never seen him in such a panicked state.

    "Kakus¡ª" Bryan called out, his voice low and cautious.

    Bryan was now a well-known celebrity in the wizarding world. Wherever he went, he would always attract people''s attention, so he had to disguise himself with a cloak from afar. Hearing the call, Kakus Fawley was stunned for a moment, but when he noticed the golden strange snake on the caller''s cor, his face, full of anxiety, suddenly lit up with joy.

    The entrance to Knockturn Alley was near Gringotts. Although it was nighttime, the ce was still bustling with peopleing and going.

    Kakus, his forehead now glistening with nervous sweat, grabbed Bryan''s arm with surprising strength. Without a word, he pulled them both deeper into the Knockturn Alley. They moved swiftly, dodging around others until they found themselves in a secluded alleyway, far from prying eyes and curious ears.

    Once satisfied with their istion, Kakus turned to Bryan, his eyes wild with a mixture of fear and urgency. "Would you mind removing your disguisepletely, Mr. Viper?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    It seemed that there was indeed something urgent; otherwise, Kakus wouldn''t have the guts to make such a request. While thinking this, Bryan pulled back his hood and dispelled the magical disguise concealing his face.

    As the magical vortex dissipated, revealing Bryan''s familiar face, Kakus let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief. The tension in his body seemed to ease slightly, but his next words were spoken through gritted teeth, showing the stress still coursing through him.

    "Don''t tell me you have nothing to do with what happened at the Soul Eater''s Den, Mr. Watson!"

    The usation, veiled thinly as a question, caught Bryan off guard. His eyes narrowed, a hint of toughness entering his voice as he responded, "You called me back in such a hurry just to question whether I killed those scums?"

    Kakus faded at Bryan''s tone, realizing his misstep. "Oh, of-of course not because of that," he stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Well, there''s an urgent matter!" He paused, struggling to catch his breath before continuing, "I''ve just found out about it myself, and after thinking it through, I''m afraid only you can solve it. It''s an urgent matter, please allow me to cut to the chase¡ª"

    Once again, Kakus nced around nervously, ensuring their privacy. Then, under Bryan''s stern and expectant gaze, he said urgently.

    "It''s like this, Mr. Watson. Half a month ago, Lucius Malfoy approached me, which surprised me greatly. We all know that Lucius Malfoy is desperate to convince certain influential circles that he haspletely severed ties with his notorious past. In recent years, he''s been meticulously avoiding any dealings with people of my... particr set of skills and connections."

    Fawley''s reputation as a broker was built on discretion and reliability. The fact that he was now breaking his own strict code of conduct by disclosing a client''s identity and the nature of their business spoke volumes about the direness of the situation. This breach of professional ethics would undoubtedly damage his standing in certain circles, but Kakus seemed to not care about such consequences at this moment.

    "I immediately sensed something was amiss with this unexpected approach," Kakus continued, his voice low and urgent. "My instincts were screaming that this was no ordinarymission. So, I took a calcted risk and made some... ''creative'' adjustments to the contract. These modifications allowed me to circumvent certain limitations that would normally be in ce for such tasks."

    Bryan listened intently, his mind already racing ahead, considering the implications of what Kakus was revealing.

    "For instance," Kakus exined, "I was able to discreetly inquire about Malfoy''s true intentions behind issuing the contract. And now, I am able to disclose details of themissioned task to you. Malfoy, not being one of us ''insiders'' in the true sense, failed to notice my little... insurance policy."

    "What exactly did he do?" Bryan''s brow furrowed deeply.

    Kakus took a deep breath, "Lucius provided me with an obscene amount of galleons - more gold than I''ve seen in one ce in all my years in this business. My task was to recruit individuals possessing exceptional skills, people capable of executing orders faithfully and without question."

    He paused, swallowing hard before continuing, "But here''s the truly rming part, Mr. Watson. Malfoy kept the true nature of the task hidden from these recruits until just yesterday afternoon. He gathered everyone in a secret location - a house owned by the Malfoy family that''s not on any official records. And then... then he revealed his true intentions."

    Kakus''s voice dropped even lower, forcing Bryan to lean in close to hear his next words. "He wants them to disguise themselves as Death Eaters, Mr. Watson. And not just for show. Their mission... their mission is to carry out a full-scale terrorist attack at the Quidditch World Cup."

    "Mr. Watson," Kakus continued, his voice trembling, "there are a hundred thousand wizards from all over the world there! Men, women, children - all gathered in one ce."

    A chill ran down Bryan''s spine and he shouted sternly, "When does the World Cup match start?"

    "It''s¡ª" Kakus''s face turned ashen, and he said tremblingly, "Right now."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0413 The Last Day

    0413 The Last Day

    The Last Day of July

    The relentless heatwave that had gripped the area for the past fortnight reached its peak on this scorching day, the final one of July.

    The scorching temperature caused the beautiful lush raspberries in the garden outside Number Four, Privet Drive to droop their heads listlessly. Even the lush green grass on thewn had taken on a yellowish tinge.

    Despite the suffocating heat, the road outside remained impably clean, as though even the dust dared not settle on its surface. The air shimmered slightly, creating an almost mirage-like quality to the deserted street. Not a single soul ventured out into this furnace-like day; the residents of Privet Drive had wisely retreated into the sanctuary of their air-conditioned homes, leaving the outside world to bake in eerie silence.

    Within the stifling confines of his small bedroom at Number Four, Harryy sprawled on his bed, feeling as wilted as the nts outside. Though he hadn''t caught sight of his reflection in a mirror, he was certain his spirits must be as low as the drooping flowers in the Dursleys'' garden. The cause of his wasn''t solely attributed to the fact that the zing sun had rudely awakened him well before six in the morning. No, there was another reason, one that he found difficult to express even to himself ¨C today was his birthday.

    For the first eleven years of his life, prior to his life in Hogwarts, this supposedly special day had held no real significance for Harry. The Dursleys, his only living rtives, had never once acknowledged the asion. In fact, it often seemed as though they got a perverse pleasure from assigning him extra chores on this day, as if to emphasize just how little he meant to them and how insignificant his existence was in their eyes.

    However, the past three years since his entry into Hogwarts, his birthday had finally gained some semnce of meaning and joy. His best friends, Ron and Hermione, along with Hagrid, never failed to remember the date. They took great care in preparing something special for him, be it heartfelt cards, thoughtful gifts, or in Hagrid''s case, a somewhat questionable but undeniably well-intentioned cake.

    This year was no exception. A collection of birthday cakes, cards, and carefully wrapped presents had already arrived, buried away under a loose floorboard in his room.

    This year was even more special because earlier in the year, something he had dreamed of for fourteen years had finallye true¡ªhe now had a real family member.

    Just a few days ago, Sirius, who had been missing for half a month, had finally sent word. In his reply to Harry, he said he would arrive at Privet Drive before thest day of July to take him away from this house.

    Since receiving that letter, Harry had been consumed by eager anticipation. His mind constantly wandered to vivid daydreams of celebrating his fourteenth birthday surrounded by warmth and genuine affection ¨C with Sirius and the loving Weasley family. However, as the hours of his birthday ticked by with no sign of his godfather, a creeping sense of disappointment began to take hold.

    Despite his unwavering emotional faith in Sirius¨C the harsh reality of the situation was beginning to weigh heavily on his heart. As much as he tried to rationalize the dy, to conjure up usible exnations for Sirius''s absence, he couldn''t help but feel a bit disheartened.

    The ancient clock on Harry''s bedside table, a hand-me-down from Dudley like everything else in his possession, showed it was approaching half-past eleven. It was going to be Lunchtime, yet the usual shout from Uncle Vernon summoning him to the dining room remained conspicuously absent.

    Harry knew, however, that if he didn''t make an appearance downstairs within the next ten minutes, Aunt Petunia would invariably materialize outside his door. With cat''s steps, she would approach, leaving a te of food. A timid knock would follow, and before Harry could even respond, she would hastily retreat, leaving the meal as though it were an offering to appease some temperamental deity.

    <strong>Sigh¡ª</strong>

    A deep, weary sigh escaped Harry''s lips as he surveyed his messy room. Clothesy strewn about, spell books were piled haphazardly on his desk, and owl droppings from Hedwig dotted the floor near her cage. With great reluctance, he hauled himself off the bed and trudged towards the door slowly.

    If circumstances beyond Sirius''s control had indeed dyed his arrival, Harry thought that he would at least make an effort to assert his presence in the house. He was tired of being treated like a ghost, mute and invisible, for the rest of his time under the Dursleys'' roof.

    As Harry descended the stairs, the sounds and smells of the Dursley family''s lunch wafted up to greet him. The three members of his adoptive family were already gathered in the dining room, a scene of domestic normalcy that always seemed to exclude him.

    Uncle Vernon''s considerable bulk was mostly hidden behind the morning''s copy of the "Daily Mail," his fat face just visible over the top of the newspaper. The rustle of pages turning was mixed with asional grunts and mutteredments about the state of the world.

    At the kitchen counter stood Aunt Petunia, her horse-like face pinched in concentration as she meticulously divided up the family''s lunch. With practiced precision, she ced half of the bacon and grilled sausages onto Harry''s designated te(this wasn''t the rule before, but since the start of this summer holiday, Harry had his own te). This equal distribution was also a recent development; prior to this summer holiday, Harry''s portions had been significantly smaller. Whether this change stemmed from fear of Sirius or a grudging acknowledgment of Harry''s growing needs, he couldn''t be sure.

    Of the remaining half, Aunt Petunia allocated two-thirds to another te ¨C undoubtedly Dudley''s ¨C while the final third was split equally between two smaller portions, presumably for herself and Uncle Vernon.

    Dudley sat at the dining table; his beady eyes fixed on Aunt Petunia''s every move. It was clear from his expression that he was acutely aware of which portion was destined for his te. His face bore an even sulkier expression than usual, if such a thing were possible. Despite being on a diet mandated by his school nurse, Dudley seemed to be taking up more space than ever, his massive frame stretching the limits of the sturdy dining chair.

    The tension in the room was palpable as Aunt Petunia prepared to bring the food to the table. Dudley, realizing this was hisst chance to protest the unfair (in his eyes) distribution, finally erupted.

    "It''s not fair!" he roared, his multiple chins quivering with indignation. "You always give him the most!"

    Aunt Petunia''s pursed lips trembled at her son''s outburst. Her eyes, already watery from the strain of the past few weeks, began to overflow with tears. "Oh, my sweet darling," she began, her voice wavering, "It''s not because... we''ve discussed this before. The school nurse thinks... well, she thinks you should control your nutrient intake appropriately."

    This exnation, rehearsed and repeated countless times over the summer, couldn''t convince Dudley at all. His face reddened, nearly matching the hue of the bacon on his te. "But that freak can''t even finish it!" he shouted, jabbing a pudgy finger in the direction of Harry''s portion.

    At thistest outburst, Aunt Petunia''sposure finally crumbled. Tears began to stream down her bony cheeks as she wrestled with the conflicting desires to appease her beloved son and sticking to the diet n. The stress of the summer ¨C caught between Dudley''s new dietary restrictions and the unwee boy in the house ¨C had taken its toll. She had lost countless hairs, and dark circles had taken up permanent residence under her eyes.

    But regardless of her personal turmoil, the problem at hand needed addressing. Clutching her chest dramatically, Aunt Petunia opened her mouth to attempt another round of persuasion. However, the words died on her lips as her gaze fell upon Harry, standing silently in the doorway of the dining room.

    Dudley, puzzled by his mother''s sudden silence, caught the shift in Aunt Petunia''s expression. A flicker of confusion passed through his small, watery eyes. The act of turning around seemed to require an excessive amount of effort for someone of Dudley''s size. After much grunting and shifting, he finally managed to spin in his seat. The moment his eyesnded on Harry, the intimidating expression he had been wearing vanished instantly. Harry could practically see the fear taking root in Dudley''s scrunched-up features.

    How to describe the scene before him? Harry thought internally. Despite the general misery of his situation with the Dursleys, he had to admit that the expressions on Dudley and Aunt Petunia''s faces were quite amusing. It seemed that the fact that the ''murderer'' Sirius was his godfather had indeed terrified the Dursley family.

    "I think Dudley is right," Harry said, his voice cutting through the tense silence. He shrugged nonchntly, his emerald eyes pointed towards his designated te on the kitchen counter. "The portion is indeed too much for me."

    Harry''s sudden interjection nearly catapulted Uncle Vernon out of his chair. Therge man finally lowered his newspaper, his bushy mustache quivering non-stop like an agitated caterpir on his upper lip. His beady eyes darted between Harry and the rest of his family, unsure of how to react to this unexpected development.

    Years of living under the Dursley''s roof had conditioned Harry to instinctively brace himself, expecting Uncle Vernon to roar at him for his unannounced appearance. Indeed, Uncle Vernon''s face contorted with fury, hisplexion shifting rapidly from red to purple. But then... nothing happened.

    The small dispute in the kitchen quickly dissipated under the tacit understanding of the Dursley family. Aunt Petunia, her hands trembling slightly, swiftly brought the food to the table. Dudley, intimidated by Harry''s presence, stopped his tantrum and lowered his head, suddenly finding great interest in carefully dissecting his sausages. Uncle Vernon, after muttering "What a sight" under his breath, also began attacking his food with knife and fork, avoiding eye contact with his nephew. Just like that, they had reverted to ignoring him again.

    The familiar impulse that had been welling up in Harry''s heart frequently this summer surged once more. He could feel the magic thrumming beneath his skin, responding to his turbulent emotions. His face turned ashen, jaw clenched tightly as his chest heaved with rapid breaths. He found himself desperately resisting the temptation to pull out his wand and give Dudley another pig''s tail, or perhaps make antennas sprout from Aunt Petunia''s forehead.

    Just as Harry''s internal struggle reached its peak, the shrill sound of the doorbell pierced the tense atmosphere.

    In past, Uncle Vernon would have immediately roared, "Go answer the door, boy!" But today, heboriously hauled himself up from his chair and waddled towards the hallway himself, muttering under his breath about unexpected visitors and the inconvenience of it all.

    Regardless of the change in routine, Harry knew he couldn''t let the dark thoughts swirling in his mind manifest into reality. If he stayed in this charged environment any longer, he was certain the Ministry of Magic would be sending him another stern warning about underage wizards using magic without permission. He cast a fleeting nce at the food allocated to him on the kitchen counter but made no move to take it. Instead, he turned directly towards the stairs.

    However, just as he ced one foot on the bottom step, a roar of fear and anger suddenly erupted from the hallway!

    <strong>It was Uncle Vernon!</strong>

    The sudden outburst froze Dudley and Aunt Petunia in the kitchen, their forks suspended midway to their mouths. Harry, after a brief moment of shock, quickly regained his senses. Professor Watson''s rigorous physical education sses had honed Harry''s reflexes and agility. Without a second thought, his right hand lightly touched the handrail, and with a slight push, he effortlessly vaulted over it.

    Before Harry could rush towards the source of themotion, a terrified Uncle Vernon came charging down the hallway like an out-of-control bull, his face a mask of pure panic. "Hide quickly, Petunia, Dudley!" he roared, eyes wild with fear. "It''s that murderer!"

    The front door stood wide open, allowing the dazzling midday sunlight to flood the entryway. Silhouetted against this brilliant backdrop were two human figures, their features momentarily obscured by the intense light.

    Harry''s heart raced wildly, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through his veins. Amidst the subsequent terrified screams of Aunt Petunia and the whimpering of Dudley, Harry felt as if he''d been jolted by electricity.

    Step by step, he walked towards the hallway.

    As his eyes finally adjusted to the intense light, the faces of the two figures standing in the intery of light and shadow became clear. A grin of pure joy spread across Harry''s face.

    "Sirius, Professor Lupin!" he eximed, his voice filled with a mixture of relief, excitement, and sheer happiness. Atst, his birthday was about to take a turn for the better.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0414 The Dursleyâ€™s

    0414 The Dursley¡¯s

    After the eager shout, Harry couldn''t help but blink rapidly, afraid that his eyes were ying tricks on him. But as the familiar figures drew closer, he dismissed this ridiculous notion and sprinted towards them, his feet barely touching the ground as he covered the distance in two long steps.

    Sirius stood before him, looking remarkably well considering his past. His skin had taken on a darker, weather-beaten appearance since Harry hadst seen him a month ago, testament to whatever adventures he had been on. In stark contrast, Professor Lupin stood beside him, presenting quite the opposite picture. Harry knew he had spent nearly six months at St. Mungo''s. Due to the long absence of outdoor activities, Remus''splexion looked somewhat pale, but his eyes were much brighter.

    "You really came!" Harry eximed, his voice cracking with emotion, a lump formed in his throat as he struggled to contain his joy. "And Professor Lupin, I didn''t expect to see you here!"

    Harry couldn''t fully suppress the excitement bubbling up inside him. It coursed through his veins, making him feel light-headed and giddy.

    Sirius''s gaze fell upon Harry, taking in the changes that just a month had made. The boy had shot up several inches, now almost matching him in height. A fond smile spread across Sirius''s face, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine affection. With a familiar gesture that spoke of years of missed opportunities, he reached out and ruffled Harry''s perpetually unruly hair.

    "How could I possibly miss your birthday, Harry?" Sirius''s voice was warm and reassuring, tinged with a hint of mischief. "Breaking promises isn''t my style, you know. I''m a man of my word, even if the rest of the world might doubt it."

    Sirius''s words made Harry''s cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure. He couldn''t help but grin foolishly, feeling the joy radiate from every cell in his body.

    "By the way, Harry¡ª" Remus''s voice cut through the moment, as gentle and measured as ever. Always considerate of others''s feelings, he nced over Harry''s shoulder towards the house, his tone tinged with slight worry. "That Muggle who just ran inside¡ªthat''s your uncle, isn''t it? I think we should probably apologize to him. We did show up rather unexpectedly, and he seemed quite... startled."

    "Oh, don''t bother with that nasty Muggle, Remus," Sirius said dismissively, clearly not giving two Knuts about theck of invitation or the propriety of their arrival. With a casual air, he draped his arm around Harry''s shoulders and strode towards the hallway. Behind them, Remus could only shake his head with a mixture of resignation and helplessness.

    "I really think we should at least wait for the homeowner''s permission before barging in, Sirius¡ª" Remus''s protest was halfhearted at best, knowing full well it would fall on deaf ears.

    "Oh, you might be waiting until the next century then, Professor Lupin!" Harry chimed in, unable to keep the grin off his face. The thought of his aunt and uncle willingly inviting wizards into their home was so absurd it was almostughable.

    "I''m not your professor anymore, Harry. Just call me Remus, please." A wry smile tugged at the corners of Remus''s mouth. "Well¡ª" He trailed off, clearly aware of the Dursleys'' attitude towards anything magical. Hearing Harry''sment only confirmed what he already knew. With a helpless shrug and a resigned smile, he followed the pair into the hallway, his footsteps echoing in the unnaturally quiet house.

    The Dursley family had disappeared somewhere; they weren''t visible in the kitchen. Harry knew Sirius and Remus wouldn''t be very curious about the Dursleys'' house, so he led them directly up the stairs to the second floor.

    When they reached Harry''s room, it was clear that tidiness had not been high on his list of priorities. The space was a chaotic jumble of magical items, textbooks, and clothes strewn about with reckless abandon. It was evident that Harry had been far too preupied with anticipation of Sirius''s arrival to bother with something as mundane as cleaning.

    With three people suddenly crammed into the small space, there was hardly room to breathe, let alone sit. Sirius didn''t seem to care about the mess in the slightest. He perched himself on the edge of Harry''s cluttered desk, grinning as he watched frantically trying to pack up.

    Thankfully, Remus was more practical in his approach. With a casual flick of his wand, Magical objects and wrinkled clothes began to sort themselves out, leaping through the air as if possessed and neatly arranging themselves in the open trunk at the foot of Harry''s bed.

    "Oh, I really wish I could use magic during the summer holidays¡ª" Harry said, his tone tinged with mild resentment. But he quickly pushed that thought aside and looked eagerly at Sirius. "Tell me about your adventure with Professor Watson, Sirius. Where exactly did you go?"

    "Oh, that¡ª" Sirius surveyed the gradually tidying room, looking slightly dissatisfied as he smacked his lips. But he didn''t voice any criticism. Hearing Harry''s inquiry, Sirius raised an eyebrow and smiled, "How to put it... It was extremely exciting, Harry. I can''t tell you exactly what we experienced¡ªI promised Bryan to keep it secret. But I can tell you this much: it was an adventure unlike anything I''ve ever experienced before. A thousand times more awe-inspiring than when I firstid eyes on Hogwarts castle all those years ago!"

    "But what exactly was it?" Harry pressed on eagerly selectively ignoring Sirius''s mention of secrecy. Things involving Professor Watson were always particrly interesting.

    "Now, now, Harry. Stop prying¡ª" Remus''s voice cut through the air as he stooped to retrieve Harry''s discarded Charms essay from the floor. He nced at it briefly, an eyebrow rising in silentmentary, but said nothing as he sent the summer homework flying into the trunk with a gentle swish of his wand. "I''ve asked Sirius multiple times myself, but he''s been frustratingly tight-lipped about the whole affair. To be honest, Padfoot, I''m quite curious about what method Bryan used to keep you so secretive. It''s not like you were particrly skilled at keeping secrets to yourself back in our school days, were you?"

    "Don''t waste your breath trying to provoke me into spilling the beans, Moony¡ª" Sirius retorted with a grin . "You know Bryan''s temper as well as I do. He''s allowing me to share some of the experiences from this adventure, but not just yet. If I were to start bbing about it now, he''d be on us faster than you can say ''Quidditch'', and both you and Harry would find yourselves with a few holes in your memories."

    "Yes¡ª" Remus couldn''t suppress a chuckle, shaking his head. "Yes, he''s absolutely capable of doing something like that."

    Harry''s mind shed back to the previous summer when he had followed Professor Watson into the depths of Knockturn Alley''s underground world. The wizards who frequented those dark corners were far from upstanding citizens, and for Professor Watson to move freely in such circles... Well, Harry wasn''t naive enough to believe the professor was asw-abiding as Hermione would like to think. Considering the potential consequences of knowing secrets he shouldn''t, Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He shrank back slightly, suddenly less eager to pry into matters that might be better left in the dark.

    "I had thought Professor Watson mighte with you, Sirius¡ª" Harry''s voice was tinged with a hint of disappointment.

    Professor Watson was another wizard Harry had grown quite close to, and he had hoped that he might appear again on Privet Drive. Moreover, Professor Watson had a special status, his intimidation to the Dursleys wasn''t just because he was a wizard. If he were willing to intervene on Harry''s behalf, to have a ''chat'' with the Dursleys, their attitude towards Harry would likely improve dramatically.

    "Because of your dr¡ª" Sirius started to speak but suddenly became alert and closed his mouth halfway. He clearly realized that discussing topics rted to Voldemort in a Muggle house was unwise.

    "He had originally nned toe and see you, Harry," Sirius continued, choosing his words more carefully. "But some urgent matters came up unexpectedly. After we came ashore from our... expedition, he parted ways with me rather abruptly. I had wanted to invite him to watch the Quidditch World Cup with us, but you know Bryan¡ªhe''s not exactly the type to get excited about sporting events, magical or otherwise."

    "In a sense¡ª" Remus''s gaze swept through Harry''s room as he spoke, his tone thoughtful, "Bryan is what you might call a ''pure'' wizard, in the most academic sense of the term. He''s fascinated by the mystery of magic itself, which is one of the primary reasons he''s achieved so much at his rtively young age. Well-"

    After confirming that nothing was left behind in the room, Remus looked at Harry with a gentle smile, "We should probably get moving. We''re heading to Arthur''s house now. Unfortunately, we can''t use the Floo Network for this trip, and Apparition is still a bit... challenging for me in my current state. We''ll have to take the Knight Bus to get there, Harry. I trust you won''t mind traveling this way?"

    "Oh, if possible, I''d rather walk all the way to the Burrow," Harry said with a grimace, the memory of hisst trip on the violently unpredictable Knight Bus making his stomach churn. His reaction drew a sympathetic chuckle from Remus.

    Remus charmed Harry''s trunk to float automatically, while Harry carried Hedwig''s cage. The three of them went downstairs together.

    "Wait¡ª" Harry''s mind had been whirling with thoughts of finally leaving Privet Drive and joining the Weasleys. But suddenly, Sirius, who was behind, came to an abrupt halt as they passed the stairs leading down to the ground floor.

    "What''s wrong, Sirius?" Remus asked, his voice sharp with sudden alertness, his hand instinctively moving towards his wand.

    Sirius let out a contemptuous snort, his grey eyes narrowing as they fixed on a point just beyond Harry''s shoulder. Under the confused and slightly uneasy gazes of Harry and Remus, he smoothly pulled his wand from his sleeve. With a casual flick, he aimed directly at the innocent-looking cupboard under the stairs.

    <strong>CRASH!</strong>

    The cupboard door burst open with explosive force, nearly flying off its hinges. In a tangle of limbs and terrified yelps, the Dursley family¡ªwho had been conspicuously absent for the past half hour or so¡ªtumbled out onto the hallway floor. The sight was so unexpected and absurd that Harry could only stare in utter astonishment.

    This cupboard had once been Harry''s bedroom. He knew exactly how cramped and ustrophobic the space was, and it boggled his mind to imagine how Uncle Vernon and Dudley, with their considerable bulk, had managed to squeeze themselves in there.

    Dudley, his face as pale as Nearly Headless Nick, struggled to extricate himself from the tangle of bodies. It took several attempts before he could stand upright, and his legs wobbled like jelly as he gasped for air. Aunt Petunia, her horse-like face contorted with fear, immediately threw herself over Dudley like a human shield. She whimpered softly, her eyes brimming with terrified tears as she stared up at the wizards looming over them.

    "Get out of my house this instant, or I swear I''ll blow your ruddy heads off!" The unexpected show of bravado came from none other than Uncle Vernon. Despite the way his multiple chins quivered with fear and the sweat beading on his brow, he still managed to raise his prized double-barreled shotgun¡ªthe very same one that had been twisted into a pretzel by Hagrid years ago. His pudgy fingers trembled on the trigger as he aimed the weapon at Sirius.

    Completely disregarding both Remus''s warning look and Uncle Vernon''s empty threat, Sirius took a step closer to the stairwell. He stuck his head into the cupboard, peering into the dark, cramped space. When he pulled back, his face, which had been tanned by weeks of wind and sun during his recent adventure, had turned an rming shade of purple.

    "No, Sirius¡ªdon''t!" Even Harry could see the dangerous glint in Sirius''s eyes. He knew that Sirius was about to do something rash. With a cry of rm, Harry dropped Hedwig''s cage (earning an indignant hoot from the owl) and lunged forward, grabbing Sirius''s arm with both hands.

    "Bryan told me everything, Harry," Sirius''s grey eyes were full of anger as he red at the Dursley family. "He told me they made you live in this... this broom cupboard for years!" Sirius''s grip on his wand tightened, his knuckles turning white. "If you''re willing, Harry, I''ll make them live in there for a few days¡ªsee how they like it! It''s the least they deserve after what they''ve done to you!"

    "Don''t do anything foolish, Sirius!" Remus''s normally gentle tone became much sterner. "Do you want to go back to Azkaban?"

    "I don''t care!" Sirius shouted, his neck stiffening with anger.

    Seeing that thin stick pointing at him, Uncle Vernon broke out in a cold sweat. His two brawny arms seemed to have turned into willow branches, soft and trembling, and the shotgun in his hands ttered to the floor.

    "Don''t do it, Sirius!" Harry emphasized again. He looked at Aunt Petunia, who was still sprawled over Dudley, and at the trembling Uncle Vernon. His emerald green eyes showed reluctance.

    "That''s all in the past now, Sirius!" Harry said, panting. "Since youst spoke with them, they''ve been... well, they''ve been very decent to me this summer. Really, I can swear it. They''ve changed their ways!"

    At Harry''s unexpected defense, Uncle Vernon''s face froze in an expression of utter disbelief. His small, watery eyes widened to an almostical degree, darting between Harry and the wand still pointed at his chest. Even Aunt Petunia, who had screwed her eyes shut in anticipation of some horrific magical punishment, cautiously opened one eye to stare at Harry incredulously. It was clear that she, like her husband, couldn''t quite believe that Harry would cover for them after everything that had happened between them over the years.

    "Is that true?" Harry''s words had an effect. Sirius''s raised arm was no longer so firm. He slowly lowered his wand, looking at Harry dubiously."They''ve really been treating you better?"

    "I promise you!" Harry said ''firmly''.

    "Well then¡ª" Harry seized the moment of hesitation to pull Sirius behind him and tried to force a smile at the dazed Dursley family. "I suppose this is goodbye until next summer, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley. I... I hope you have a pleasant year."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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 0415 The Burrow

    0415 The Burrow

    Harry tumbled off the Knight Bus, his head spinning and stomach churning from the wildest ride he had ever experienced. The world seemed to tilt and sway around him as he struggled to find his footing on the solid ground. To meet Harry''s urgent request of arriving in St. Catchpole before dinner, the driver, Ernie Prang, had raced recklessly the entire way.

    Stan Shunpike, the e-faced conductor had even unceremoniously "dropped off" a few unfortunate passengers through the windows mid-journey. Their startled cries had faded quickly as the bus zipped away, leaving Harry to wonder if they had somehownded safely or if the Ministry of Magic would have a mess to clean up. All of this, apparently, was to amodate Harry''s needs ¨C though he wasn''t sure he had asked for quite such enthusiastic service.

    "Farewell, Mr. Potter!" Stan called out eagerly, sticking his head out the window and waving so enthusiastically that his conductor''s hat nearly flew off. His grin stretched from ear to ear, clearly thrilled to have transported the famous Harry Potter. Before Harry could even consider a response, the bus vanished into thin air with a whoosh that rustled the leaves on nearby trees and left a faint smell of burning rubber in its wake.

    "Never again!" Harry gasped, bent over with his hands on his knees, panting as if he''d just run a marathon. His sses were skewed, and his messy ck hair seemed even more disheveled than usual. "That''s absolutely thest time I''ll ever ride the Knight Bus!"

    "Don''t speak too soon, young man¡ª" Sirius began, hearing Harry''sint, walking up to ce a hand on Harry''s shoulder with a smile.

    Apparition favored by adult wizards, wasn''t much better than the Knight Bus in Harry''s opinion. However, Sirius and Remus didn''t look nearly as disheveled as Harry felt. Their robes were only slightly creased, and they both wore expressions of mild amusement at Harry''s dramatic reaction to the bus ride.

    When Harry finally caught his breath, the nausea subsiding to a manageable level, he took in his surroundings. They were standing on a quiet countryne. The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers and freshly cut grass, a wee change from the stuffy interior of the Knight Bus.

    To the left side of the roady a quaint vige. The vige was surrounded by vast farnds, their neat rows of crops stretching towards the horizon. In the distance, a modest mountain stood silhouetted against the setting sun, its peak tinged with golden light.

    To the right, however, was the sight that truly captured Harry''s attention. There stood the Burrow ¨C a crooked, multi-story building that seemed to vite the mugglews of architecture. It was a hodgepodge of rooms and extensions, each floor looking as if it had been precariously bnced atop the one below. Chimneys sprouted haphazardly from the roof, and Harry could swear he saw a window on the top floor blink sleepily at him.

    This was the home of his best friend from Hogwarts, Ron Weasley, and it held a special ce in Harry''s heart. In fact, it was Harry''s second favorite ce in the world, right after Hogwarts itself. Despite still feeling nauseous from the Knight Bus ride, Harry''s spirits soared at the sight of the Burrow''s lopsided silhouette bathed in the rosy-golden light of the setting sun. The warm glow seemed to breathe life into the old house, making it look even more magical than Harry remembered.

    The thought of Ron being just inside those walls, along with Mrs. Weasley, whose cooking was more delicious than anyone else''s he knew, made Harry''s stomach growl in anticipation, and all traces of nausea was forgotten.

    "Come on, Harry," said Remus, cing his hand on Harry''s other shoulder. The sunset had given his usually pale skin a healthier glow, masking the signs of weariness that often marked his face. His amber eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at Harry, "Your friends are eager to see you¡ª"

    Harry nodded, his excitement growing. He reached down to the cage at his feet, where Hedwig, his snowy owl, had been watching with herrge, intelligent eyes. "You must be tired of being cooped up," Harry said softly as he opened the cage door. Hedwig hooted gratefully and stepped onto Harry''s outstretched arm.

    With a gentle toss, Harryunched Hedwig into the air. She spread her magnificent white wings, catching thest rays of sunlight and seeming to glow as she soared upwards. She circled once above their heads before flying off towards the fields, no doubt in search of a tasty mouse or vole for her dinner.

    As they began walking towards the Burrow, Harry asked curiously, "By the way, Sirius, Remus, how do you know the Weasley family?"

    "Oh, that¡ª" Sirius saidzily, squinting his eyes against the intoxicating evening breeze. "We''ve known Arthur and Molly for much longer than you have, Harry. Isn''t that right, Remus?"

    "That would be before you were even born," Remus replied, tightening the cor of his wizard''s robe. This action made Harry notice that Professor Lupin was wearing a brand-new robe, unlike the faded, patched one he always wore at Hogwarts. The Slytherins had often mocked him for it.

    "It was before Voldemort''s downfall, you know, Harry," Remus continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Back then, there weren''t many people brave enough to stand against the most evil dark wizard in the world. Albus did his best to bring these people together. Sirius and I, and of course your dad and mum, met Arthur and Molly during that time."

    "But Molly never really liked me¡ª" Sirius said with a chuckle, nimbly jumping over a puddle. The area around Stoatshead Hill must have had rain recently; though the ground was mostly dry, it was still dotted with small pools of water that reflected the deepening twilight sky.

    "That''s because some of your ideas were always too radical. Molly doesn''t like high-risk ns," Remus said cheerfully, "Plus, you always liked to joke about Arthur''s thinning hair."

    Harryughed heartily, surprised and delighted to learn his godfather had such a mischievous side when he was younger.

    As they climbed a small hill, the Burrow suddenly loomed close. The smell of home-cooked food wafted towards them, making Harry''s mouth water. Two figures were standing in front of the Weasleys'' small stone broom shed, craning their necks towards them. Even in the fading light, Harry recognized the red hair that could only belong to a Weasley.

    "Harry!"

    Both figures began running towards him, but the girl was noticeably faster and more agile. Before Ron had covered much ground, Hermione had already reached Harry. Her bushy brown hair streamed behind her as she ran, and her face was lit up with joy.

    "Are you alright, Harry!" Hermione eximed, giving him a tight hug before stepping back, her face was beaming with joy and excitement. Her brown eyes scanned him quickly, as if checking for any signs of mistreatment or suffering.

    Like himself, Hermione had grown considerably taller sincest term, making her appear much more mature. To Harry''s surprise, he noticed that Hermione''s fair cheeks were now dotted with pink pimples.

    "Hermione?" Harry said with a grin, pushing aside his idle observations. "What are you doing here? There are still some days before the World Cup."

    They had agreed to meet at the Burrow to attend the Quidditch World Cup together at the end ofst term, but the final was still some days away. Harry wondered how Hermione had ended up here so early, and why she hadn''t mentioned it in herst letter.

    "It was ck¡ªOh I mean, Sirius!" Hermione exined, her breathing perfectly steady despite her sprint. This made Harry realize that Hermione must have kept up with Professor Watson''s running regimen over the summer, while he hadpletely forgotten about it once the holidays began. He felt a twinge of guilt, imagining Hermione diligently following their Professor''s instructions while he hadzed about at the Dursleys.

    "He wrote to me, saying you''d want me here to celebrate your birthday with you!"

    Harry immediately turned to Sirius in surprise, seeing a face full of warm smile. Sirius''s grey eyes were twinkling with satisfaction at Harry''s evident pleasure.

    "You deserve a proper birthday celebration, don''t you?" Sirius said softly, ruffling Harry''s already messy hair.

    "Phew," Ron had finally caught up, his face red and sweaty, gasping for breath. His freckles stood out starkly against his flushed skin, and his red hair was stered to his forehead with sweat. "I can finally see the value of Professor Watson''s PE sses now. Hermione, you run so fast! Oh, mate, how''ve you been these past few days? Are the Muggles still¡ª"

    Ron''s words were cut short by Harry''s nervous cough. He had just covered for the Dursleys in front of Sirius and didn''t want Ron''s unintentional words to reveal the truth about how they really treated him. Thest thing he wanted was for Sirius to worry or do something rash that mightnd him back in trouble with the Ministry.

    "Everything''s been fine, hasn''t it?" Harry said hastily, shooting Ron a meaningful look. Ron''s eyes widened in understanding, and he quickly changed the subject,unching into an excited description of the preparations for the World Cup.

    The thick white smoke billowing from the Burrow''s many chimneys indicated that Mrs. Weasley was likely very busy at the moment inside, probably preparing a feast to celebrate Harry''s arrival and uing birthday. After Hermione and Ron greeted Sirius and Remus, exchanging polite but slightly awkward hellos, they all headed towards the Burrow.

    As they passed the Weasley family''s vegetable patch, a blur of ginger fur caught Harry''s eye. Crookshanks, Hermione''s cat, was jumping up and down in the garden, engaged in what looked like an epic battle with the gnomes. The cat''s squashed face was set in a determined grimace as he pounced on the potato-headed creatures, who squealed and tried to dodge his attacks.

    "Hello, Crookshanks¡ª" Harry called out, waving at the ginger cat. Crookshanks paused in his gnome-chasing endeavors, turning hismp-like yellow eyes towards Harry. After catching a glimpse of Harry, he gave azy meow and waved a paw back at him, looking almostically human in his gesture.

    "Honestly, Hermione¡ª" Harry said seriously, though his eyes twinkled with amusement, "You should check if Crookshanks is also an Animagus. He''s less like a cat than any cat I''ve ever seen."

    Hermione rolled her eyes, but there was fondness in her voice as she replied, "Oh, Harry, don''t be silly. Crookshanks is just very intelligent for a cat. Aren''t you, Crookshanks?" Thest part was directed at the cat, who had returned to his gnome-chasing with renewed vigor.

    "At least his rat-catching skills are genuine," Sirius said with a chuckle, a dark look briefly crossing his face at the mention of rats. "He kept me fed with the rats he caught during that time beforest Christmas."

    The reminder of Sirius''s time in hiding, surviving on rats while everyone thought him a dangerous criminal, casted a momentary shadow over the group. But it passed quickly as they approached the weing warmth of the Burrow.

    Ron pushed open the back door of his house, leading Harry and the others inside. The door creaked slightly on its hinges, a homey sound that brought a smile to Harry''s face. As he stepped over the threshold, breathing in the smoky air of the cramped, cozy room, a sense offort and security enveloped Harry. The Burrow smelled of wood smoke, herbs, and something delicious baking ¨C scents that Harry hade to associate with safety and belonging.

    As he walked through the living room, Harry''s eyes were drawn to the magic clock hanging on the wall. It was unlike any clock Harry had ever seen, with nine golden hands, each inscribed with the name of a family member. Instead of numbers, the clock face was surrounded by phrases like "home," "work," "traveling," "lost," "hospital," "prison," and "mortal peril." Currently, except for Mr. Weasley''s hand that still pointed to ''work'', the other eight hands all pointed to ''home''.

    Harry blinked, puzzled about something. He could have sworn there was a new hand on the clock, but before he could get a closer look, Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room.

    "Oh, dear, was the journey alright?" Mrs. Weasley rushed out of the kitchen, wielding a still-smokingdle that filled the air with the mouthwatering aroma of her cooking. As soon as she heard movement in the living room, she quickly came to Harry and gave him a fierce hug, just like Hermione had.

    "Ahem! It was all fine, Mrs. Weasley!" Harry gasped, his voice muffled against her apron. Despite the slight embarrassment of being fussed over, Harry couldn''t help but feel touched by Mrs. Weasley''s genuine affection.

    "Such a good boy!" Mrs. Weasley said fondly, stepping back and cupping Harry''s face in her hands. Her eyes shone with warmth as she looked him over, fussing softly at how thin he seemed. (Ron rolled his eyes at his mother''s fussing, while Hermione bit her lip to suppress a giggle).

    "I was nning to have Arthur pick you up, but the Ministry''s been so busytely, he couldn''t get away," Mrs. Weasley exined, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Sirius insisted on going himself, so I had to agree."

    "I''m Harry''s godfather, Molly!" Sirius said, his face darkening slightly. "It''s only right that I pick up Harry, and I don''t need anyone''s permission to do so."

    The tension in the room suddenly became palpable. Harry shifted ufortably, caught between his affection for both Mrs. Weasley and Sirius. He opened his mouth to say something, anything to diffuse the situation, but Remus beat him to it.

    Mrs. Weasley raised an eyebrow, her lips thinning slightly, but Remus smoothly intervened with a diplomatic smile, "Your scrambled eggs are about to burn, Molly¡ª"

    The effect was immediate. Mrs. Weasley''s eyes widened in rm. "Oh, thanks for the reminder, Remus¡ª" she eximed, her attitude towards Remus noticeably warmer than it had been towards Sirius. She turned and rushed back to the kitchen, calling out over her shoulder, "Dinner will be ready soon, Harry. Arthur promised this morning he wouldn''t miss your birthday dinner!"

    Harry felt a rush of warmth at the thought of a proper birthday dinner. He opened his mouth to tell Mrs. Weasley not to make a fuss over his birthday, but before he could speak, the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind them caught everyone''s attention.

    Harry turned, half-expecting to see the mischievous grins of Fred and George. Instead, he found himself face to face with two young men he''d never met before¡ªthough they too had the trademark Weasley red hair.

    "Charlie and Bill¡ª" Ron said, grinning inexplicably at Harry''s surprised expression. "You must remember the stories about their time at Hogwarts, right?"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0416 The Weasleys

    0416 The Weasleys

    Just a second before Ron uttered the names of the two young men, Harry had already guessed who they were. As they had passed through the living room earlier, the magical clock''s hands representing these two young men had also pointed to the ''home'' position.

    Ron''s joke was clearly not the first time it had been made in the house, as Charlie and Bill just pursed their lips, showing a hint of resignation, before their expressions returned to normal.

    "How are you faring, Harry?" The brother standing nearest to Harry broke into a wide, genuine grin. He extended arge, calloused hand towards Harry. As Harry grasped it, he could feel the numerous calluses and blisters on the man''s palm and fingers. This, Harry guessed, must be Charlie, who studied dragons in Romania.

    Charlie''s physique was a stark contrast to some of his siblings. Where Percy and Ron were tall andnky, almost beanpole-like in their slenderness, Charlie was built more like the twins, Fred and George. His frame was sturdy andpact, with the kind of muscr build thates from constant physical exercise. His face was broad and so densely freckled that it almost appeared to be a uniform shade of brown. On one of his muscr forearms, arge, shiny burn scar stood out.

    As Harry''s gaze shifted to the other brother, Bill stepped forward to shake his hand as well. Bill''s appearance caught Harry off guard, opposing the mental image he had constructed based on the snippets of information he''d learned over the years.

    Harry had known that Bill worked for Gringotts, the wizarding bank, and was Head Boy during his time at Hogwarts. These facts had led Harry to imagine Bill as something of an older, more polished version of Percy ¨C perhaps a bit stuffy, overly concerned with rules and regtions, and prone to bossing others around.

    But Bill was nothing like that. He looked... well, cool. He was the tallest of the brothers, with long hair tied back in a ponytail and an earring with a fang-like pendant. Bill''s clothes wouldn''t have looked out of ce at a rock concert, a far cry from the buttoned-up image Harry had made in his mind

    Truthfully, it was impossible not to be curious.

    Harry had never interacted with Charlie or Bill before, and his most vivid impression of them undoubtedly came from the stories he''d heard from Hagrid during those times when Professor Watson was still working as an investigator.

    He couldn''t think of Bill and Charlie as wizards from the same year as Professor Watson.

    Although Charlie and Bill were Ron''s oldest brothers and had alreadye of age and started working, they still possessed a youthful temperament that Harry could easily rte to, Professor Watson, on the other hand, seemed asposed as Dumbledore, Even when standing side by side with him, Professor Watson''s demeanor never seemed out of ce or inappropriate.

    Bill seemed to read the curiosity in Harry''s expression like an open book. He tilted his head slightly, a small furrow appearing between his brows as he considered Harry''s unspoken questions.

    "Well, if you''re really curious, Harry¡ª" he began, his voice carrying a hint of both amusement and something akin to nostalgia. "I suppose I could spare some time after we''ve had dinner to tell you what Bryan was like during our school days."

    "It''s indeed hard to believe¡ª" Sirius had apparently already heard Bill''s story. Thinking of Bryan''s nature today, he frowned and said, "He actually endured five long years in Slytherin before finally showing his true colors. If it were today, those pure-blood wizard families still clinging desperately to their outdated traditions wouldn''t dare give him so much as a sideways nce. He''d probably reduce their houses, shops, and workshops to smoldering ashes overnight without batting an eye."

    "Not necessarily¡ª" Remus chuckled, unable to suppress a smile. "If you have enough galleons jingling in your pockets, he''d still be more than willing to engage in a civil conversation."

    "That''s true!" Sirius recalled his conversation with Bryan in the ck Manor the night he was caught, and couldn''t help butugh.

    Although Harry now had Sirius, he still held special feelings for Professor Watson. These feelings were hard to describe, perhaps a sense of kindred spirits. Moreover, powerful wizards with a unique personality like Professor Watson, much like Dumbledore, easily gained others''s admiration.

    Harry was eager to hear from Bill and Charlie about what Professor Watson was like when he was still a student at Hogwarts. However, he was still holding Hedwig''s cage, and his trunk was still floating. After exchanging pleasantries with Bill and Charlie, who embodied the Weasley family''s good nature, he headed to Ron''s room with Ron and Hermione to put away his luggage.

    The trio had just reached the firstnding of the crooked, meandering staircase when a thunderous bang suddenly reverberated through the house, emanating from a room somewhere above them. The unexpected noise nearly caused Harry to lose his footing and tumble back down the stairs.

    Harry blinked rapidly, his green eyes wide with surprise as he took in Ron and Hermione''s utterly unfazed expressions. Before he could voice his confusion and inquire about the source of the disturbance, a door on the second-floornding was flung open with such force that it banged against the wall. A face peered out, framed by horn-rimmed sses and wearing an expression of extreme annoyance that seemed etched into every line and furrow.

    Swallowing his question, Harry instead picked a polite greeting, "Hello, Percy¡ª"

    "Oh, hello, Harry!" Percy didn''t seem surprised or pleased by Harry''s appearance. He continued to re upwards angrily, "I don''t understand who''s making such a racket. You know, I''m working here¡ªwriting a report for the office, but there seems to be somemotion upstairs, and people keep thundering up and down these sted stairs. It''s making it impossible for me to concentrate!"

    "We''re not thundering!" Ron retorted; his voice sharp with irritation. "We''re just walking normally, like regr people do in their own home. Sorry if we''ve disturbed your top-secret, earth-shattering Ministry business!"

    Before Percy could muster a suitably scathing reply, another sudden bang echoed through the house, causing the floorboards beneath their feet to vibrate. Without so much as another nce at Harry or Ron, Percy rushed upstairs and the sound of his fist pounding furiously against a door soon followed, apanied by muffled shouts of indignation.

    Ron rolled his eyes dramatically at his brother''s antics. With a slight shake of his head, he resumed climbing the stairs, leading Harry up.

    Ron''s room hadn''t changed much since Harry''sst visit. It was still stered with posters of Ron''s favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. The fish tank on the windowsill, which used to contain frogspawn, now housed a frog about the same size as Neville''s Trevor. Ron''s old rat Scabbers was gone, reced by the small grey owl, Pigwidgeon, that had delivered Harry''s letter to Privet Drive. Perhaps seeing Hedwig circling outside the window, Pigwidgeon seemed excited, ttering around in his cage.

    "Fred and George are bunking in with us for the time being because," Ron exined as he and Harry engaged in a brief struggle to maneuver the heavy trunk under the bed. The wood creaked ominously as they shoved it. "Bill and Charlie have taken over their room. And Percy, well..." Ron''s voice took on a note of exasperation, "He''s insisting on having his own room all to himself, ims he needs the space and quiet for his oh-so-important work."

    Harry sank onto the edge of the bed, taking a moment to catch his breath after the exertion of moving his trunk. His curiosity, piqued by the earlier disturbances, finally got the better of him. "What''s the deal with Fred and George?" he asked, his gaze flickering towards the ceiling as if he could see through it to the source of themotion. "That noise we heard earlier ¨C that was them, wasn''t it?"

    Ron''s expression was a mixture of resignation and bewilderment as he responded, "They''ve been at it all summer long. Constant bangs, shes, and strange smells wafting from their room. No one seems to know exactly what they''re up to in there."

    After Ron spoke, Harry told Ron and Hermione about what had happened when he left the Dursleys. Ron and Hermione hadpletely different views on his actions in helping the Dursleys out of trouble.

    "You''re wasting your time, mate," Ron said, his tone matter-of-fact as he fished out a slightly crumpled packet of crisps from his bedside table. With a practiced motion, he tore open the packet and offered some to both Harry and Hermione before helping himself. Between noisy swallows, he continued, a hint of disappointment coloring his words, "You shouldn''t have stopped Sirius, Harry. You should have let those Muggles get a proper taste of what it''s like to be locked in a cupboard. That''s the only way they''d really learn their lesson, you know?"

    However, Hermione interjected with a sarcastic edge to her voice, "And then what, Ron? Let Sirius take a little holiday back in Azkaban?" She fixed Ron with a stern look, reminding him of Professor McGonagall. "Don''t forget, the Ministry isn''t exactly known for their leniency when ites to wizards using magic to torment Muggles. They take that sort of thing rather seriously."

    Ron, however, was not so easily swayed. He argued back, his voice rising slightly with conviction, "That''s hard to say. Just look at Malfoy''s dad and Snape. They seem to be getting away with all sorts of questionable behavior without so much as a p on the wrist!"

    Hermione''s eyes narrowed dangerously at Ron''s words. "If you truly want Sirius to be the kind of wizard that Lucius Malfoy is, then I''m afraid I have nothing more to say on the matter."

    Harry was used to Hermione and Ron''s bickering and he was also very familiar with how to stop their arguments. He was about to tell them about his scar hurting during the summer when Ginny suddenly pushed open the door.

    Ginny, Ron''s younger sister, stood in the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed a shade of pink as her eyes met Harry''s. "Hello, Harry," she said, her voice carrying a hint of shyness that she couldn''t quite hide. "Happy birthday¡ª"

    "Oh, thanks¡ª" Harry responded standing up from the bed, smiling at Ginny.

    Ron, observing his sister''s flushed cheeks and slightly flustered demeanor, just shrugged. He had long since grown ustomed to Ginny''s infatuation with Harry.

    With a casual air, Ron crumpled up the now-empty crisp packet and tossed it out the open window. He dusted off his hands, scattering crisp crumbs onto the already cluttered floor, and said, "Come on, we might as well head downstairs and lend a hand. I caught a glimpse of Sirius and the others setting up for your birthday dinner out in the yard earlier."

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0417 The Trouble with Twins

    0417 The Trouble with Twins

    The Burrow bustled with anticipation as the sun began to set on a warm summer evening. The air was thick with the mingling scents of fresh-cut grass, aromatic herbs from Mrs. Weasley''s garden, and the tantalizing aroma of a feast in preparation. As the clock''s hands crept closer to seven, an air of excitement mixed with mild anxiety permeated the burrow.

    "There''s simply no other way around it," Arthur Weasley muttered to himself as he hurried along the winding countryne leading to his home. His usually neat robes were disheveled, and his thinning red hair was exposed from his rushed journey. "With the Quidditch World Cup final rapidly approaching, the Ministry''s in absolute chaos. Half the staff have been reassigned to ensure everything goes off without a hitch on match day. It''s left mountains of work unattended in other departments."

    He paused briefly to catch his breath, his mind racing with the day''s events. "And if that wasn''t enough, I even had to help Dirk Cresswell in a particrly nasty argument with the goblins from Gringotts. Merlin''s beard, what a day!"

    With barely a minute to spare before seven o''clock, Mr. Weasley finally arrived home, panting heavily as he burst through the garden gate. His face was flushed from exertion, and beads of sweat glistened on his balding head. Hastily, he loosened his tie, which felt like it was strangling him after his mad dash home.

    His eyes lit up as they fell upon Harry, who was standing awkwardly near the back door. Despite his exhaustion, Mr. Weasley''s face broke into a warm, weing smile. He strode over to Harry and enveloped him in a quick but affectionate hug.

    "Harry, my boy! How wonderful to see you!" Mr. Weasley eximed, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "How are you feeling? Was your journey here smooth sailing? I do hope those Muggles didn''t give you any trouble this time?"

    Harry, looking a bit overwhelmed by the enthusiastic greeting, managed a small smile. "No, Mr. Weasley, everything was fine. You know the Dursleys ¨C they couldn''t wait to see me leave, as usual."

    Mr. Weasley''s face fell slightly at Harry''s words, his brow furrowing with concern. "Now, now, Harry," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Let''s not speak that way. I know there''s been some... well, let''s call it a misunderstanding between you and your aunt and uncle. But at the end of the day, you''re family, aren''t you?" His eyes twinkled with an optimism that seemed at odds with what Harry knew of the Dursleys. "I''m certain that deep down, beneath all the disagreements and differences, there must be some love there."

    Harry bit his tongue, not wanting to shatter Mr. Weasley''s naive but well-meaning belief. Instead of correcting what he saw as Mr. Weasley''s absurdly hopeful notion, he simply nodded nomittally and quickly joined the line of people carrying tesden with food from the kitchen to the garden.

    The Burrow, charming and cozy as it was, simply didn''t have enough space to amodate thirteen people for a sit-down dinner. So, in typical Weasley fashion, they had decided to turn Harry''s birthday celebration into a grand outdoor feast.

    As Harry stepped into the garden, he was struck by the beauty of the night sky over Ottery St. Catchpole. It was a sight quite unlike anything he''d seen before ¨C different from both the magical, star-studded expanse that hung over Hogwarts and the murky, light-polluted darkness of London. Here, the sky was a deep, clear blue, gradually darkening as night fell, with the first twinkling stars just beginning to peek through the twilight.

    Two long tables had been pushed together in the middle of the garden, groaning under the weight of Mrs. Weasley''s foods. There were enormous joints of roast beef, glistening hams, golden-crusted meat pies, and colorful sds bursting with fresh vegetables from the garden. The centerpiece of the feast, however, was a cake that stood as tall as a house-elf ¨C a masterpiece specially ordered by Sirius from the finest bakery in Diagon Alley.

    The cake was a work of art, featuring a miniature Harry in exquisitely detailed Quidditch robes. The tiny figure zoomed around the cake on a perfectly crafted Firebolt, chasing after a fluttering Golden Snitch. The number ''14'' was inscribed on the back of the robes in shimmering red icing,memorating Harry''s age. Of course, that was how the cake had looked when it was first presented; now, after the enthusiastic attentions of the partygoers, it was barely recognizable, withrge chunks missing and icing smeared in all directions.

    Harry leaned back in his chair, azy smile appearing on his lips as he enjoyed the gentle evening breeze. He felt a sense of contentment wash over him, a feeling so rare and precious that he wanted to savor every moment of it.

    As the feast wound down, the gathering entered its more rxed phase. People began to move about freely, forming smaller groups for conversation. Hermione and Ginny had wandered off to one side of the garden, giggling as they fed treats to Crookshanks.

    Nearby, Remus was chatting with Bill and Charlie Weasley about Ennd''s disastrous performance in this year''s Quidditch World Cup. Remus''s normally calm demeanor was tinged with exasperation as he gestured wildly.

    "I mean, really," Remus was saying, his voice rising slightly, "how could they have fumbled that easy save against Transylvania? It''s as if our Keeper had been Confunded!"

    Bill nodded, his long red hair gleaming in the warm glow of the floatingnterns Mrs. Weasley had conjured. The fang earring dangling from his ear swayed as he shook his head in disappointment. "I know what you mean, Remus. I haven''t seen ying that abysmal since my first year at Hogwarts when the Hufflepuff team all came down with Dragon Pox the night before the final."

    Charlie, his muscr arms crossed over his chest, let out a snort. "At least the Hufflepuffs had an excuse. Our national team? They''re supposed to be professionals! I''ve seen better coordination from a herd of Horntails during mating season."

    As the three men continued their lively debate, Percy had cornered his parents near the remnants of the spectacr birthday cake. His chest puffed out importantly, Percy was telling Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with tales of his ''rising'' career at the Ministry.

    "You simply wouldn''t believe the recognition I''m receiving at work," Percy said, his horn-rimmed sses glinting in thentern light. "Mr. Crouch himselfmented on my report about cauldron bottom thickness. Said it was the mostprehensive analysis he''d seen in years!"

    Mr. Weasley smiled silently, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and amusement at his son''s enthusiasm. Mrs. Weasley, on the other hand, was beaming so brightly she could have rivaled thenterns illuminating the garden.

    "Oh, Percy, that''s wonderful!" she eximed, reaching out to straighten his already impable robes. "I always knew you''d go far. Didn''t I say so, Arthur?"

    Before Mr. Weasley could respond, a suddenmotion drew everyone''s attention. Fred and George had risen from their seats, exchanging a mischievous nce that spelled trouble to anyone familiar with the twins'' antics. They stepped back from the table with an exaggerated flourish, their movements perfectly synchronized as if they''d rehearsed this moment.

    "Well then,dies and gentlemen," Fred began, his voice carrying across the garden with theatrical ir.

    "Distinguished guests andmon rabble alike," George continued, earning a mock-indignant "Oi!" from Ron.

    The twins bowed deeply, their long noses nearly touching the grass. When they straightened up, identical grins were stered across their freckled faces.

    "We regret to inform you that we must take our leave," Fred announced, cing a hand over his heart as if the very thought pained him.

    "For you see," George picked up seamlessly, "a great endeavor awaits us!"

    Ron, his face smeared with abination of cake frosting and what looked suspiciously like jam, looked up at his brothers with curiosity etched across his features. He swallowed a mouthful of cake before asking, "What exactly are you two up to in that room of yours? You''ve been at it all summer, locked away like a pair of cursed mummies."

    Fred''s eyes widened in feigned shock. "All summer? My dear brother, you wound us! We''ve at leaste down for meals."

    "Most of them, anyway," George added with a wink.

    "But as for the nature of our great work," Fred continued, leaning in.

    "That, dearest Ronniekins, is none of your business," George finished, reaching out to ruffle Ron''s hair, much to Ron''s annoyance.

    "Focus on your food, little brother," Fred advised ''wisely''. "You''re looking a bit peaky. Another slice of cake, perhaps?"

    With that, the twins linked arms and strolled off towards the house, whistling a jaunty tune that sounded suspiciously like a Weird Sisters'' hit.

    As if suddenly remembering something important, Percy nced at his watch, his eyes widening in rm. "Oh, is it thatte already?" he eximed, his voice rising an octave in distress. "I simply must hurry back to my room to work on my report. Mr. Crouch has been most generous with the deadline, of course, but I certainly can''t wait until thest moment to submit it. That would be most unprofessional!"

    With a hasty goodbye to his parents and a nod to the other guests, Percy rushed off towards the house.

    Harry watched Percy''s retreating figure with a mixture of amusement and bewilderment. As he turned back to the table, he caught Sirius looking at him intently. Meeting his godfather''s gaze, Harry raised an eyebrow in silent question.

    Sirius jerked his head slightly, indicating that he wanted to speak privately. Curious, Harry asked, "What report is Percy writing exactly? It seems awfully important."

    Sirius''s lips quirked into a half-smile. "Something about cauldrons, apparently," His gray eyes darted around, taking in the various Weasley family members scattered about the garden before he gestured discreetly to Harry.

    Understanding immediately that Sirius had something important to discuss, Harry nodded and followed him as he made his way towards the front of the Weasleys'' broom shed.

    As they reached the shed, Harry opened his mouth to inquire about Sirius''s suddenly serious expression. Before he could utter a word, however, the sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention. Turning his head, he saw Remus walking towards them, in an expression of quiet concern.

    "What''s going on?" Harry blinked, his confusion evident in his voice.

    Remus''s amber eyes met Harry''s green ones, a flicker of something ¨C worry? ¨C passing through them. "We want to talk to you about your scar, Harry," he said softly, noting the slight widening of Harry''s eyes at the mention of his scar.

    Remus nodded, confirming Harry''s unspoken question. "Yes, Sirius told me everything. But what exactly is happening, Harry? I know your scar is no ordinary scar ¨C it doesn''t usually react, does it?"

    "Uh, the scar, yes," Harry stammered, caught off guard by the abrupt shift from the cheerful birthday party to such a serious topic. He quickly gathered his thoughts. "It suddenly hurt for a while ¨C but yes, you''re right, it doesn''t hurt often."

    Touching the lightning-shaped mark on his forehead, Harry spoke more fluently. He nced at his godfather and Remus, who was also a close friend of his father''s, and said rapidly, "It hasn''t reacted for two years, Thest time it did anything was in my first year at Hogwarts, when Voldemort was lurking in the castle, attached to Quirrell."

    Sirius and Remus exchanged a quick nce, sharing their thoughts.

    "Is there anything else we should know, Harry?" Sirius pressed, his voice gentle but insistent.

    Harry hesitated, unsure whether he should mention the dream. First, he wasn''t certain if the bizarre dream was rted to his scar, and second, since waking up, it was as if something had blocked his memory. The events in his recollection had quickly be blurred, and by now, he remembered very little.

    "Before my scar started hurting, I was asleep," Harry began cautiously, weighing each word. "And then I had a dream. I dreamed about... about Voldemort."

    Harry braced himself for looks of disbelief, but to his surprise, neither Sirius nor Remus showed any sign of skepticism. Instead, they continued to listen attentively, their expression was serious and focused. Encouraged by their reaction, Harry continued to narrate.

    "I, um, don''t remember it clearly now," he admitted, frustration tinging his tone. "It''s all a bit fuzzy. But I do remember it started with this old, dpidated house."

    Sirius nodded encouragingly, while Remus leaned in slightly, his brow furrowed in concentration.

    "There was an elderly Muggle man," Harry continued, the memory bing slightly clearer as he spoke. "He was walking around inside the house, using a cane. I think. And then he... he discovered Voldemort in one of the rooms. Voldemort wasn''t alone, He was talking to someone... a woman."

    "A woman?" Sirius''s brow furrowed, a thoughtful glint appearing in his stormy gray eyes. He turned to Remus, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "The Daily Prophet hasn''t reported any more breakouts recently, has it?"

    Remus shook his head, his response immediate and certain. "The Daily Prophet only reported one breakout, and that was you, Sirius." But then, uncertainty crept into his voice, "Do you think the woman Harry saw could be... a Death Eater?"

    Sirius crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing as he pondered the possibility. "Voldemort must have trusted this woman very much, Think about it, Remus. Since Lily and Harry destroyed his powers, he''s been in hiding. And now, he''s willing to expose himself to this woman when he''s at his most defenseless? It doesn''t add up unless she''s someone he trustspletely."

    "Who do you think she could be?" Remus asked cautiously, his amber eyes flicking between Sirius and Harry.

    A dark look crossed Sirius''s face, his features hardening. "If my dear cousin were still out there, it would definitely be her, But Betrix is still rotting in Azkaban where she belongs. Hmm... Narcissa Malfoy, perhaps?"

    "Unlikely," Remus shook his head solemnly, "If Voldemort were to reach out to the Malfoys, why wouldn''t he go straight to Lucius? He was always one of Voldemort''s most trusted follower."

    "Wait!" Harry finally couldn''t hold back. After a moment''s hesitation between questioning the dream''s reality and Sirius''s cousin, he chose the former. He stared at Sirius and Remus with wide eyes, asking in bewilderment, "You think... you think that dream was real?"

    Sirius and Remus exchanged a nce, their expressions darkening but neither spoke.

    "But¡ª" Harry was about to press for rification when a sudden, thunderous boom from inside the house interrupted him. The noise was so intense that even the tables in the yard shook, causing the remaining dishes to rattle ominously.

    "I''ve had quite enough of those two!" Mrs. Weasley''s voice cut through the startled silence that followed the explosion. She jumped up from her chair, her face flushed with abination of exasperation and worry. "I''m going to see what mischief they''re up to this time, and Merlin help them if they''ve blown up another bedroom!"

    As Mrs. Weasley stormed towards the house, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, Mr. Weasley hurried after her. "Now, now, Molly," he called, trying to sound soothing but unable topletely hide the note of anxiety in his voice. "Fred and George are at an age where they should have their privacy. I''m sure it''s nothing to worry about."

    "Privacy?!" Mrs. Weasley''s indignant screech could have rivaled a Howler. She flung open the back door with a resounding bang that made everyone wince. "I''d be more than happy to respect their privacy if it didn''t involve tearing the house apart board by board!"

    At the dinner table, the remaining Weasley siblings exchanged knowing looks before following one after another, eager to watch the drama unfold. Ron, his earlier lethargy forgotten, was practically bouncing with excitement at the prospect of seeing the twins get a proper telling-off.

    "You should go and see too, Harry," Remus suddenly said. He winked at Harry mischievously. "If Fred and George get into trouble, you might be able to put in a good word for them with Molly."

    It wasn''t long before heated arguments could be heard from inside the house. The rapid-fire scolding made it clear just how furious Mrs. Weasley was. But Sirius and Remus remained outside by the broom shed, their faces gloomy.

    "I share Harry''s doubts," the impatient Sirius finally spoke up. "How exactly does this work through dreams? Harry was in Privet Drive at the time; he couldn''t have seen it firsthand, could he?"

    "Only wizards like Albus and Bryan could figure that out¡ª" Remus said worriedly. "You''ve already written to Albus about Harry''s scar, haven''t you?"

    After receiving Sirius''s confirmation, Remus nodded. "Albus should also know about Harry''s dream and the woman who appeared in it. As for Bryan, well, since he''s busy with his own affairs, we don''t need to rush. But, Sirius¡ª"

    Remus suddenly fixed his gaze on Sirius''s eyes, their gazes meeting in midair.

    Years of close friendship meant they could understand each other''s thoughts without words.

    "Yes, that person is likely to return," Sirius said, thinking of his brother Regulus and sniffing hard.

    "How many people will have to sacrifice themselves this time?" Remus''s worried and sentimental voice drifted away on the light breeze, across the boundless wilderness.

    Author''s note: I had to go somewhere yesterday and I won''t be able to return until tomorrow, so the updates werete. The updates will return to regr from tomorrow.

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    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0418 Cold War

    0418 Cold War

    Harry''s stay at the Weasley house hadn''t been veryfortable these past few days.

    Firstly, due to Bill and Charlie''s return home, Harry had to squeeze into a room with Ron, Fred, and George. Sirius, wanting to spend more time with Harry and reluctant to return to his old house, along with Remus, who had nowhere else to go at the moment, set up tents in the yard.

    Mr. Weasley felt extremely guilty about this and even offered to give up his and Mrs. Weasley''s room, but Sirius firmly refused.

    Of course, what really made Harry ufortable was the situation with Fred and George.

    The twins had been secretly working on various odd contraptions, which Harry and the others had known about for a while. After all, at Hogwarts, they often brought out amusing gadgets to entertain everyone.

    But it wasn''t until Mrs. Weasley exposed Fred and George''s secrets on his birthday that they realized just how far the brothers had progressed in developing their joke products.

    The sheer variety and ingenuity of their creations were astonishing:

    <em>- Ton-Tongue Toffees: Innocent-looking sweets that caused the eater''s tongue to swell to enormous size.</em>

    <em>- Canary Creams: Custard creams that temporarily transformed the unsuspecting consumer into arge canary.</em>

    <em>- Self-Answering Quills: Cleverly enchanted writing implements that wrote answers during exams and can be used for homeworks.</em>

    <em>- Skiving Snackboxes: A collection of sweets that made the customers believable ill, (perfect for skipping sses).</em>

    <em>- Nosebleed Nougat: A nougat that triggered instant nosebleeds, easily stopped by eating the other half.</em>

    <em>- Fever Fudge: Fudge that induced a convincing fever,plete with sweating and flushed cheeks.</em>

    <em>- Puking Pastilles: Sweets that caused immediate and projectile vomiting, stoppable with the antidote end.</em>

    And these were just the finished products. Scattered among their possessions were dozens of half-finished prototypes, experimental forms, and concept sketches for future joke items. The twins''s room resembled less a bedroom and more an inventor''s workshop crossed with an apothecary''s nightmare.

    The confiscated items, piled high in the kitchen, dwarfed the birthday feast that Mrs. Weasley had painstakingly prepared. It was a stark visual representation of just how much time and effort the twins had poured into their secret gadgets, time that their mother believed should have been spent on their studies.

    And this incidentpletely ignited the conflict between Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley.

    The fierce arguments nearly blew the roof off The Burrow. For several days, Fred and George, who usually broughtughter to everyone, wore gloomy expressions and barely responded even when Harry spoke to them.

    Mrs. Weasley, for her part, seemed to have reached the end of her considerable patience. Her reactions oscited wildly between rage and despair, her voice rising to near-hysterical levels one moment, only to dissolve into tears the next. Her behavior reminded Harry ufortably of Aunt Petunia''s frantic attempts to enforce a diet on Dudley at the beginning of the summer.

    But that wasn''t the end of it!

    One afternoon, two owls arrived from Hogwarts, bringing Fred and George''s O.W.L. exam results.

    To be honest, if it weren''t for the joke products, Mrs. Weasley might not have been so angry about their grades. But the ring ''P''s on their report cards, with only a few ''E''s and ''A''s, gave Mrs. Weasley another reason to unleash her fury. It was like pouring gasoline on an already raging fire.

    In a moment of fury, Mrs. Weasley gathered up the confiscated joke products ¨C items that had only been temporarily seized after much pleading and negotiation ¨C and burned them in front of the horrified twins. The ensuing argument was so fierce that Harry genuinely feared Mrs. Weasley might disown Fred and George on the spot.

    The fallout from this confrontation spread beyond just the twins and their mother. Sirius and Remus, who had been trying to maintain a neutral stance, found themselves caught in the crossfire. Mrs. Weasley, noting the twins''s particrly abysmal grades in Defense Against the Dark Arts, turned her ire on the two former professors. The fact that they had taught the subject during Fred and George''s O.W.L. years made them convenient targets for her frustration, further straining the already tense atmosphere in the household.

    It was against this backdrop of familial strife that a rare moment of peace descended upon The Burrow one sunny morning. The weather, as if sensing the need for a pardon, provided a perfect day ¨C warm sunshine bathing the fields surrounding Ottery St. Catchpole in a golden glow, without the oppressive heat that often characterized English summers.

    The Burrow stood uncharacteristically quiet. Mr. Weasley and Percy had left for their respective positions at the Ministry of Magic. Mrs. Weasley, perhaps seeking a brief escape from the cold war atmosphere, had gone to Diagon Alley under the pretext of purchasing household supplies. Bill and Charlie, taking advantage of their rare time back in Ennd, had both gone to London meet their old friends.

    On the lush greenwn outside the house, Harry and Ron were ying Quidditch. Harry had lent his Firebolt to Ron, while he rode his old Nimbus, which he hadn''t used in a while. The broom had been thoroughly battered by the Whomping Willowst year and hadpletely fallen apart, but thankfully Professor Watson had worked his magic, allowing it to continue serving Harry.

    Although the Nimbus was no longer as good as before, unable to make sharp turns or sudden elerations, it still felt much better than the old Shooting Stars in the Weasleys'' broom shed, which had lost most of their twigs.

    Hermione and Ginny sat on thewn, enjoying the breeze, watching the two boys fly back and forth in the sky, and whispering to each other, asionally bursting into giggles.

    For a brief, shining moment, the troubles guing The Burrow seemed to fade away, reced by the simple joys of friendship and youthful liveliness.

    <strong>Bang--</strong>

    The peaceful interval was interrupted by a sharp crack that split the air ¨C the unmistakable sound of someone Apparating. Sirius materialized in the yard, his sudden appearance causing Harry to nearly fall off his broom in his haste to descend.

    Sirius looked exhausted, his robes were slightly skewed and his long dark hair was tangled by the wind. Despite his disheveled appearance, there was a spark of excitement in his eyes that immediately captured Harry''s attention. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, drawn by themotion, hurried over to join them.

    "How did it go, Sirius? Did you see Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, his words tumbling out in a rush of anticipation.

    Hearing Harry''s question, Sirius didn''t respond immediately, instead looked at the others standing beside Harry.

    "I think I heard Mum''s voice," Ginny said after a brief silence. "I''ll go help her." She hurried away, looking slightly awkward.

    Harry had already told Hermione and Ron about his scar, so there was no need to keep secrets from them.

    "I did see him¡ª" Sirius said, slightly out of breath. "Dumbledore had gone to find a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for you all and only returned this morning. I talked to him about the dream while we were having breakfast in the Great Hall."

    "What did Professor Dumbledore say? Does he think the dream was real?" Harry pressed, anxiety evident in his voice.

    Before Sirius could respond, Hermione interjected with her own burning question: "Who''s the new professor?"

    "I''ll answer your questionter, Hermione. Let''s talk about Harry''s situation first¡ª" Sirius nodded at Hermione before looking seriously at Harry. "Yes, Dumbledore believes your dream might have been a real event."

    "But¡ª" Ron''s eyes bulged in surprise as he stared at Harry. "Harry, that''s... mate, unless you can see what You-Know-Who sees!"

    Harry instinctively wanted to rebuke Ron''s statement. The idea of any connection between himself and Voldemort was deeply unsettling. However, a memory from his second year at Hogwarts gave him pause. Dumbledore had once told him that on the night Voldemort gave him his scar, he had inadvertently transferred some of his powers to Harry.

    Perhaps Ron''s guess wasn''t as far-fetched as it seemed.

    Sirius noticed Harry''s silent resistance hidden beneath his silence. After a moment''s thought, he consoled, "It''s just a possibility, Harry. In fact, this might not be as serious as you think!"

    <em>''Voldemort suddenly appeared and killed a Muggle, and this terrible scene was actually seen by Harry in Privet Drive. Isn''t it serious?!''</em>

    Faced with incredulous looks from the three teenagers, Sirius borated, "When I told Dumbledore about your situation, Harry, he looked very calm, just slightly surprised. But I couldn''t see much worry in his expression. You know, Harry, if Dumbledore isn''t worried about this, I don''t think you need to be too concerned either."

    While this argument held some merit, it wasn''t enough topletely dispel Harry''s concerns. The implications of such a connection with Voldemort were too serious to dismiss entirely.

    As the group made their way inside for lunch, they were joined by Remus. Unlike Sirius, who seemed energized despite his travels, Remus looked utterly exhausted. The lines on his face seemed deeper, and there was an unmistakable air of disappointment surrounding him.

    Without needing to ask, they all knew the reason for Remus''s dejected state. Unlike Sirius and Harry, Remus didn''t have vaults full of inherited Galleons. In fact, it was uncertain whether Remus even had a vault at Gringotts. His lycanthropy made finding steady employment nearly impossible in the wizarding world, where prejudice against werewolves ran deep.

    Remus had to fend for himself, but besides wizards like Dumbledore, who would risk employing a werewolf?

    "Mum¡ª" Although the living room was still full of people, everyone was lost in their own thoughts, making the atmosphere at the dining table somewhat gloomy. Ginny looked at the empty seats across from her and asked, blinking her eyes, "Fred and George are still in their room. Can I bring them some food, or call them down?"

    "Don''t!" Mrs. Weasley rarely got angry with the youngest Weasley daughter, but this time she snapped, "If they want to starve, let them starve!"

    Harry and Ron exchanged nces, unconsciously lowering their heads even further, while Hermione sat up straight, eating her food. On the issue of Fred and George, her views actually aligned more closely with Mrs. Weasley''s.

    "I think you''re being a bit extreme, Molly¡ª" While the children didn''t dare speak, Sirius frowned and said, "You''ve seen the things Fred and George have created. They''re quite interesting. I''ve taught young wizards at Hogwarts, and I know the kids will love these things. Since they have a talent for this, why won''t you let them give it a try?"

    "Talent?" The usually kind Mrs. Weasley red fiercely at Sirius. "This is irresponsibility and recklessness, Sirius. If they were willing to put half of their cleverness and ''talent'' into studying, their O.W.L. results would definitely be much better than they are now!"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0419 Talks

    0419 Talks

    "OWL scores don''t tell the whole story, Molly," Sirius said, his voice carrying a hint of the aristocratic upbringing he so despised. "And not every young wizard who graduates andnds a cushy job at the Ministry is considered sessful. If you''re struggling to understand my point, just think about Bryan. He seemed to have been unemployed for a few years after graduation, but now look at him¡ªhe''s umted almost as many impressive titles as Dumbledore himself."

    In Harry''s opinion, Sirius had made an excellent point, but unfortunately, Mrs. Weasley wasn''t buying it.

    "If you''re trying to lecture me on how to raise my children, Sirius, I''m sorry, but I clearly have more experience in this matter," she said, her words clipped and sharp. "Bill and Charlie never went astray, and just look at Percy. He''s a shining example of what hard work and talent can achieve. Why haven''t all these good role models had any positive effect on Fred and George?"

    Remus who had been quietly observing the exchange from his position by the window stepped forward.

    "That''s not entirely fair to Fred and George, Molly," he said, running a hand through his graying hair. "To be honest, I don''t think Sirius is wrong in his assessment. At the very least, the items they''ve created are quite impressive from a magical standpoint. You couldn''t just grab any young wizard at Hogwarts and expect them to create something of that caliber."

    "Before you bur... ah, disposed of those items, I examined their creations. Each one was truly remarkable, showcasing an intricate understanding ofplex charms and transfiguration. I can assure you with absolute certainty that even NEWT level students would struggle to produce any of those things."

    Mrs. Weasley, whose anger had been momentarily softened by Remus''s calm demeanor, now exploded again. Her face flushed an rming shade of red as she eximed, "That''s exactly my point, Remus! They''re notcking in intelligence; they''re just not applying their considerable talents properly! We''ve received moreint letters from Hogwarts about their misbehavior in the past few years than about all our other childrenbined. I just can''t figure where we went wrong with those two!"

    Harry opened his mouth to exin that Fred and George''s products were actually incredibly popr among the young wizards at Hogwarts. However, before he could utter a word, he caught sight of Hermione as she shot him a warning look. Reluctantly, Harry closed his mouth, swallowing the words of defense he was about to offer.

    As the echoes of Mrs. Weasley''s outburst faded, an ufortable silence settled over the room. The only sounds were the ticking of an ancient grandfather clock in the corner and the distant nking of dishes from the kitchen, where Ginny was helping her mother with the post-lunch cleanup.

    Remus furrowed his brow as he stared at Mrs. Weasley''s retreating back. While others in the living room were still quietly discussing the conflict between Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley. Perhaps feeling the need to repay the hospitality they''d received over the past few days, Remus said.

    "This stalemate can''t continue forever. One side will have topromise first."

    Ron, sprawled across a worn-out sofa, snorted sarcastically. His freckled face wore an expression of absolute certainty as he said, "There''s no chance Mum will be the one topromise. You might as well ask a st-Ended Skrewt to tap dance."

    "Why didn''t you let me speak earlier, Hermione?" Harry looked at the uncharacteristically silent Hermione, and said with some dissatisfaction tinging his voice.

    "Because I think¡ª" she began, then paused, aware that she was about to voice an unpopr opinion.

    Hermione knew that on this particr issue, everyone in the living room, including Sirius and Remus - two former professors, also seemed to side with Fred and George. But Hermione had never been one to shy away from speaking her mind, even when it meant standing alone. She straightened her back and continued,

    "Yes, it''s true that Fred and George''s joke products are immensely popr among the young wizards. I''ve seen it too. But you''re all overlooking the fact that their items are illegal!"

    Ron raised an eyebrow, about to say something, but Hermione, having found her momentum, continued relentlessly.

    "You''ve all heard themotion emanating from Fred and George''s room these past few days. The explosions, the strange odors, the asional yelp of pain ¨C which means there''s a certain level of danger in manufacturing these items and they can''t possibly be sure that their products don''t have unforeseen side effects, can they? They experiment on themselves, which is reckless enough, but sometimes they even use younger students as unsuspecting test subjects. Surely you can see how problematic that is?"

    Hermione paused to draw breath; her cheeks flushed with the enthusiasm of her argument. The others in the room stared at her, momentarily stunned by her words. But Hermione wasn''t finished. She pressed on, her voice taking on a note of urgency.

    "Most importantly, they''ve been selling these joke products to students for quite some time now, but not a single one of their inventions has been approved or regted by the Ministry of Magic. If something were to go wrong - forgive me for saying this, Ron- but if a student were to be seriously injured by one of their products, I''m afraid your parents wouldn''t have nearly enough Galleons to cover the potentialpensation ims!"

    Hermione''s words, as always, cut straight to the heart of the matter withser-like precision. The room fell into a stunned silence. Not only were Harry and Ron dumbfounded, but even Sirius was momentarily speechless.

    It was Remus who broke the silence. A slow smile spread across his face as he looked at Hermione with undisguised admiration. "You''re absolutely right, Hermione," he said, his voice warm with praise. "I wouldn''t be at all surprised if you be an outstanding professor or an excellent official in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in the future."

    "Oh, I just¡ª" Hermione began, her usual confidence faltering in the face of such high praise. Having voiced an opinion that differed from the majority had put considerable pressure on her, and she found herself particrly vulnerable to Remus''s kind words. A blush crept up her cheeks as she smiled shyly and continued, "I was just expressing my view on the matter,"

    Sirius, who had been unusually quiet, now spoke up.

    "Sticking to your beliefs, especially when they go against the popr opinion, is perhaps the most admirable quality a person can possess," he said, nodding approvingly. "Well, now I think it''s indeed necessary to have a serious conversation with those two unruly youngsters and offer them some much-needed advice."

    "Let''s go now," Remus said, showing an unexpected sense of urgency about the matter. He stood up from his chair and gestured for the others to follow him upstairs.

    When they reached the twins'' room, Sirius pulled out his wand with a swish. With a muttered incantation and aplex wand movement, he dispelled the locking charm on the door. As the lock clicked open, they braced themselves, half-expecting to see two dejected figures sprawled across their beds in misery after their mother''s outburst.

    However, the scene that greeted them as the door swung open was entirely unexpected, catching them all off guard.

    Fred and George had transformed their small, messy bedroom into a makeshift potionsboratory. All the beds and furniture had been unceremoniously shoved against the walls, carving out a significant open space in the center of the cramped room. The floor in the middle was covered with a chaotic disy of magical ingredients - dried herbs of various hues, desated insects with shiny wings, ground animal innards that emitted a faintly nauseating odor, and numerous other unidentifiable substances.

    In the heart of this alchemical jumble sat Fred and George. Each twin was absentmindedly munching on a piece of bread, their attention fully focused on arge, bubbling cauldron that sat between them. The potion emitted sporadic puffs of multicolored smoke, filling the air with an odd mixture of scents.

    The twins were so engrossed in their work, muttering incantations and asionally adding pinches of various ingredients to their concoction, that it took them several long seconds to realize someone had pried open their supposedly imprable door.

    Thinking it might be Mrs. Weasley, they instinctively hid the jars behind their backs. When they saw who it actually was, Fred lowered his shoulders from his defensive hiding posture and said irritably, "Well, well, what do we have here? A surprise inspectionmittee? Can I file awsuit with the Wizengamot for trespassing?"

    "No need to go through all that trouble," Sirius replied smoothly, his eyes roving with undisguised interest over the bubbling cauldron and the magical ingredients surrounding it. He couldn''t quite tell which twin was speaking, so he replied vaguely, "You can just write a letter to Bryan, telling him I broke down your door. He''s a member of the Wizengamot, I''m sure he''d be happy to send me back to Azkaban for you."

    George wasn''t in the mood for jokes at the moment. He rolled his eyes dramatically and then returned his attention to the product that was about to take shape. "Look, we don''t mean to be rude," he said, though his tone suggested he didn''t particrly care if he came across as rude or not, "but we don''t have time to entertain guests right now. We''re in the middle of a very delicate stage of production!"

    "You haven''t given up on your... business venture? Or should I say, your dream?" Remus asked, stepping out from behind Sirius. His curiosity was piqued, as he moved forward to examine the solution in the cauldron more closely, he sniffed the aroma in the air, and then turned his gaze to a cardboard box on the twins'' bed which contained numerous Canary Creams and what looked like some sort of modified fireworks.

    "You''ve managed to produce so many new items again?" Remus asked, somewhat surprised.

    "Oh, of course. Nothing can stop us from pursuing our dream, sir, not even the woman who might be doing her chores in the kitchen downstairs!" Fred said, raising his eyebrows proudly. "These beauties have already been sold, you see. We have a responsibility to ensure that the customers who''ve already paid their hard-earned Galleons get their goods as soon as the summer holiday ends. It''s a matter of professional integrity."

    George nodded in agreement, then added with a hint of apology in his voice, "Honestly, we don''t typically wee outsiders into our workshop - it involves some rather sensitive trade secrets, you understand."

    Well, at least judging from Fred and George''s enthusiasm, the earlier fears about them being discouraged seemed like a joke.

    The room fell into a brief silence. Hermione frowned as she stared at the solution in the cauldron that was about to solidify, realizing that even with her knowledge, she couldn''t determine what it was. Harry and Ron, on the other hand, were clearly on Fred and George''s side, looking at the cardboard box on the bed with interest, looking eager to try the products.

    <em>''How to start the conversation?''</em>

    Sirius found himself in a dilemma. As he observed the twins, so focused on their work, a part of him couldn''t help but admire their dedication and ingenuity. These were clearly two very talented young wizards with a passion for their craft. Thest thing he wanted was to discourage them from pursuing their dreams. And yet, he knew he had a responsibility to gently remind them that their current behavior, while impressive, wasn''t exactly appropriate or safe. At the very least, they needed to be made aware of the potential dangers and legal implications of their work.

    As Sirius pondered how to broach this delicate subject, In the moment of silence, Hermione observed everyone''s expressions. Her pursed lips looked exactly like Professor McGonagall''s. Just as she was about to step forward and voice her concerns, Remus, who had been silently considering, suddenly shifted his gaze. He nced inconspicuously at Harry, and then said something that shocked everyone in the room:

    "So, Fred and George, I came here to ask: would you ept an investment?"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0420 Remusâ€™s Reason

    0420 Remus¡¯s Reason

    <strong>BANG!</strong>

    The deafening explosion shattered the tense silence of the room, its resounding force so powerful that it sent Fred and George tumbling head over heels. The others in the room were also affected, stumbling and staggering backward as the shockwave hit them. The scattered materials on the floor flew everywhere.

    As the dust began to settle, revealing the aftermath of the magical mishap, it became clear that Fred and George''stest experiment had gone spectacrly awry. The twins'' faces were smudged with soot, their expressions aical mixture of surprise and irritation. They had been working tirelessly on their long line of magical prank products, But Remus''s unexpected words had shattered their concentration, causing their carefully controlled magic to spiral out of control.

    Fortunately for all involved, the twins had learned from their previous close calls. They had cleverly woven containment charms into their rooms creating an invisible barrier that kept the worst of the explosion''s effects from spilling out into the rest of the house. Without these precautions, they might have had to consider a life on the streets.

    As everyone regained their footing, Hermione immediately shot an angry nce at Harry and Ron. The two young wizards clearly understood her meaning and shrank back.

    Fred plucked a lettuce leaf from his hair and red angrily at Remus. If Remus hadn''t been his former professor, he might have cursed out loud. After all, Mrs. Weasley had confiscated most of their previously produced items, and they were now strapped for cash and time to ensure delivery.

    "If this is some kind of prank," George fumed, his face nearly as red as his hair, "I''ll admit it''s bloody brilliant. But there''s just one teensy problem, Remus!"

    The twins shouted in perfect unison: "You''ll have topensate us for our losses, Remus!"

    "Investment?" Sirius interjected before Remus could speak, eyeing him oddly. "Are you serious, Moony? You want to invest in Fred and George?"

    "Why not?" Remus simply smiled and replied.

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged nces, all knowing what the others were thinking. Investment wasn''t the issue, but money was. And everyone in the room knew all too well about Remus''s financial situation.

    "So, how much are you nning to fund these two young ones?" Sirius asked bluntly, no longer needing to beat around the bush with Remus.

    By now, the initial anger and confusion had begun to fade from Fred and George''s face and they seemed to realize that Remus wasn''t joking or ying a prank on them. However, knowing Remus''s dire financial situation, they couldn''t help but remain skeptical. They temporarily swallowed their anger and eyed the smiling Remus suspiciously.

    "Well¡ª" Remus pondered briefly before saying cheerfully, "This is a business proposition, right? I can''t tell you immediately how much I''m nning to invest. I need to evaluate the value of your products and future potential. But I estimate it won''t be less than a thousand Galleons¡ª"

    "Bloody hell! Did I hear that right?" Ron immediately jumped up. "How much? No less than a thousand Galleons?"

    The twins blinked, wearing expressions that showed they must be dreaming.

    Sirius, however, was less amazed and more suspicious. His dark eyes narrowed as he scrutinized his Remus''s face, "A thousand Galleons?" he said bluntly, his tone t with disbelief. "Where did you get that much of money, Remus?"

    Remus was clearly aware of the confusion his words had caused for everyone. He looked at each person in turn, finally fixing his gaze on Sirius''s face. He pursed his lips, barely suppressing a smile as he said, "Oh, this matter, well, it has something to do with you, Sirius¡ª"

    Sirius''s brow furrowed, his mind racing through possibilities. "I don''t recall ever lending you money, Remus," he said slowly, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. "I''m not trying to pry into your personal affairs, but... well, there should be some exnation, right?"

    Remus''s expression softened, understanding the root of Sirius''s worry. He knew that Sirius was just worried he might do something hical due to his impoverished life.

    "This is actually your bounty money, Sirius¡ª" Remus finally exined, his smile widening at the look of utter bewilderment that spread across Sirius''s face. "Remember when you first escaped from Azkaban? The Ministry put out that enormous bounty to the wizarding world. At that time, people didn''t know you were innocent, so, uh... some people secretly had their eye on that hefty reward."

    Harry looked at Hermione in confusion, but he saw the same bewilderment on her face.

    <em>''Some people... who could that be referring to?!''</em>

    Sirius first blinked in bewilderment, but a few secondster, his face visibly darkened, even appearing to ''grit his teeth''.

    "Well, well¡ª" Sirius stepped forward, his voice dropping to a near-whisper as he ''red fiercely'' at the still-smiling Remus. "So, you all had already... But didn''t the Ministry eventually withdraw my wanted status? Are they really that generous?"

    "Yes, we all know the Ministry''s credibility has always been questionable, but the problem is, if they went back on their word, you know, Sirius, some people wouldn''t let it go, would they?" Remus''s smile faded a bit. "And even though you''re innocent, Cornelius Fudge still had to pay up."

    Sirius''s indignation was palpable, his voice rising with each word. "Oh, alright¡ª" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "I suppose I should be grateful. But Remus, don''t you think the actual fugitive deserves a share of his own bounty?"

    Sirius and Remus never mentioned the person''s name, but from the context, even Neville should have guessed who they were talking about!

    Professor Watson and Remus had teamed up to pursue Sirius, and then, after seeding, they shared the bounty money on Sirius.

    <em>Why did this sound so funny?</em>

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione all held their breath, their shoulders slightly twitching with barely suppressedughter. Ron''s gaze, however, held more than just amusement as he looked at his older brothers. To describe his expression as ''mild envy'' would be a gross understatement.

    "Fine, Remus, it''s your money, you decide," Sirius stepped back, folding his arms and pouting. But after a moment''s thought, under Fred and George''s disgruntled res, he still asked curiously,

    "But why do you want to invest in these two youngsters? Of course, the things they make are indeed interesting, but Remus, Aren''t these galleons more precious to you?"

    Remus knew that Sirius was actually subtly trying to remind him that the wizarding world was still unfriendly to werewolves. For him personally, finding a job to support himself was indeed too difficult, so he should be more cautious with his wealth, rather than giving it to two youngsters to mess around with.

    Remus''s smile faded, reced by a look of calm resignation. When he spoke, his voice was steady, devoid of self-pity or bitterness. "You''ve probably noticed, Sirius, that my job interview this morning ended in failure... again."

    "Yes, I do have some Galleons in hand now," Remus continued, his tone matter-of-fact. "But I can''t rely on this money forever. It will run out sooner orter, won''t it? I need to find a way to generate ie, to be self-reliant." His gaze drifted to the twins, a spark of enthusiasm returning to his eyes. "I have high hopes for Fred and George''s products. They''re innovative and they happen to need support and guidance right now. This isn''t just investment ¨C it''s an opportunity for me as well."

    Remus paused, taking a deep breath. For a moment, the weight of years of struggle and disappointment was visible on his prematurely wrinkled face. "To be honest," he said softly, "apart from Fred and George, people outside might not even be willing to ept an investment from a werewolf." He turned to the twins, a hint of helplessness tinging his voice as he asked, "Oh, I assume you are willing, right?"

    Fred and George exchanged a nce, and in the next second, their faces suddenly lit up with excitement.

    "Are you kidding?" Fred eximed, leaping to his feet. "Of course we''re willing!"

    George chimed in, his voice filled with earnest enthusiasm, "Who gives a toss about that werewolf nonsense? Dear Remus!"

    In a sh, Fred had grabbed Remus by the arm, guiding him to sit on the edge of the nearest bed. The twins crowded around him, their eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "You really want to..." Fred began, his voice trailing off as if he couldn''t quite believe what was happening. "I mean, a thousand Galleons. At least?"

    Remus couldn''t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm. His years of travel and hardship had given him a perspective that far surpassed that of Sirius, who had lost over a decade of his life to Azkaban. When it came to matters of business and the real world, Remus was far from a novice.

    "An investment of a thousand Galleons is the minimum," Remus said, his tone shifting to one of gentle authority. The twins leaned in closer, hanging on his every word as if he were about to reveal the secret recipe for liquid luck. "You see, the way you''re doing things now simply won''t work in the long run, Fred and George."

    The twins exchanged a quick nce, a flicker of uncertainty passing between them. Remus continued, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

    "You must understand, if you want your products to be truly popr ¨C and I believe they have the potential to be ¨C you need a proper shop. And that''s just the beginning. Your products ¨C I mean the mature, thoroughly tested, and safe ones ¨C need to be mass-produced in a proper workshop. You can''t keep brewing potions and casting charms in your bedroom forever, especially not if you want to meet the demand."

    The twins sat back, slightly overwhelmed by the scope of what Remus was suggesting. It was clear that they had been so focused on inventing new products that they hadn''t given much thought to the logistics of running a full-fledged business.

    After a moment of contemtive silence, George''s face lit up with excitement. "We''ve actually thought about the shop issue!"

    "We''ve evene up with a name," Fred added, his eyes sparkling with a reverence never seen in any Hogwarts ssroom.

    The twins'' voices rang out in perfect unison, filling the room with their infectious enthusiasm: "Weasleys'' Wizard Wheezes!"

    Remus nodded appreciatively, recognizing the marketing potential of such a catchy name.

    It was Sirius, however, who burst the twins'' bubble of excitement. He had been watching the exchange with a mixture of amusement and concern, his arms still folded across his chest in a posture of mock disapproval. "Hate to break it to you,ds," he said, his tone teasing, "but that name won''t work."

    Fred and George''s faces fell, their expressions aical mixture of confusion and indignation. Before they could protest, Sirius continued, as a mischievous glint shed in his dark eyes. "If Molly finds out that Remus''s shop is called that, she''ll sue him for copyright infringement faster than you can say ''Quidditch''."

    Fred pped his forehead in distress. "Merlin''s pants, I forgot about Mum!"

    If Mrs. Weasley discovered that not only had they not abandoned their ''frivolous'' pursuits, but had actually escted them to the point of opening a shop... Well, it didn''t take a Seer to predict that their mother-son rtionship might reach a breaking point.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0421 The Purpose

    0421 The Purpose

    The warm summer breeze wafted through the ancient, creaky windows of the Burrow, carrying with it the sweet scent of wildflowers from the nearby meadow.

    "We can discuss the shop nameter¡ª" Remus moved past the topic and continued eloquently,

    "As I just mentioned, we need a shop and a workshop to mass-produce those harmless joke products that can pass the Ministry''s approval. My suggestion is to open a shop in Hogsmeade. It''s the only all-wizard vige in Britain, close to Hogwarts, and most importantly, the rent there is much cheaper than in Diagon Alley."

    The twins exchanged a look of intrigue, their identical faces lighting up with the possibilities. Remus, noticing their enthusiasm, pressed on.

    "Moreover, by setting up shop in Hogsmeade, we''d have ess to a pool of local vigers who could serve as employees. This would significantly reduce ourbor costspared to hiring formal staff in a more urban area.

    I''m prepared to take on the responsibility of managing the shop''s daily operations and overseeing the workshop. Your task, however," he drawled, his gaze fixing pointedly on Fred and George, "is to focus in your studies at Hogwarts."

    The twin''s faces fell simultaneously, their enthusiasm dampened at the mention of studying and they protested in unison. "Oh,e off it! What''s that got to do with anything?"

    Remus''s lips quirked into a knowing smile. He''d anticipated this reaction and was ready with a convincing argument. "Consider this: to keep our customers interested anding back for more, we''ll need to constantly innovate and introduce new products. It won''t be long before you find that your current knowledge base, impressive as it is, can''t keep up with the brilliant ideas constantly bubbling up in those clever heads of yours."

    He leaned forward, his voice taking on a softer tone. "That''s why it''s crucial that you enrich your minds as much as possible during your remaining time at Hogwarts. Since I''ll be handling the production side of things, you can dedicate yourselves to expanding your magical knowledge. Think of it as research and development for our future sess."

    This exnation seemed to strike a chord with the twins. They nodded thoughtfully, their initial resistance melting away as they began to see the logic in Remus''s words.

    After a moment of contemtive silence, broken only by the distant sounds of gnomes scurrying in the garden outside, Remus cleared his throat. "I have another suggestion," he said, his tone measured and deliberate. "I believe we should consider inviting Bryan to join us."

    "Professor Watson?" Hermione, who had been listening to the n with a furrowed brow and an expression of deep concentration, eximed. Her bushy hair seemed to bristle with surprise. "Why do we need him to join?"

    Sirius lounging against the wall with an air of casual elegance let out a bark ofughter. His dark eyes sparkled with understanding as he turned to Remus. "You sly dog," he said, grinning. "You want to leverage Bryan''s connections within the Ministry, don''t you, Moony?"

    Remus nodded, a hint of pride in his smile. Though no longer employed as a Hogwarts professor, he couldn''t resist the opportunity to impart a valuable lesson to the young wizards gathered around him.

    "Indeed, Sirius," he began, his voice taking on the tempo of a lecture. "You see, Fred, George, the world of business is far moreplex than simply creating products and selling them. There are numerous hurdles we must ovee.

    First and foremost, we must obtain all the relevant legal qualifications. Every single one of our products will need to pass the Ministry''s tests. We''ll also need to safeguard ourselves against potential sabotage frompetitors."

    "In short," Remus continued, "we simply cannot continue without the Ministry''s support. Now, here''s where it gets tricky. You''re both still underage, and we can''t let Molly know about this for now. This means we can''t utilize Arthur''s connections within the Ministry."

    He paused, allowing the seriousness of the situation to sink in before presenting the solution. "This is where Bryan bes vital. As a senior advisor to the Ministry and a member of the Wizengamot, he wields considerable influence. Moreover, he has strong personal rtionships with several high-ranking officials, including the Minister of Magic himself."

    Remus''s voice took on a note of confidence. "If we can secure Bryan''s willingness to protect our business, many of the obstacles we face will crumble before us."

    The room fell silent as everyone absorbed this information. Even Fred and George, typically quick with a joke, seemed momentarily overwhelmed by theplexities of the adult world they were preparing to enter, but at least they understood that Professor Watson could help them solve many troubles.

    "Alright, let''s think about how to drag that gentleman into this!" George''s right fist mmed into his left palm.

    Remus nodded approvingly. "I''ll find an opportunity to chat with Bryan. If he''s willing to get involved, then I can start preparing for the shop in earnest."

    Ron, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the discussion, suddenly spoke up. His freckled face wore an expression of stunned disbelief as he stared at his older brothers. "Blimey," he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "Opening a joke shop in Hogsmeade... It''s like I''m in some kind of dream."

    He blinked rapidly, as if trying to clear his vision. "Just a few minutes ago, when we came into this room, you were trying to figure out how to smooth things over with Mum. And now..." He gestured vaguely at the air around him. "Now you''re nning to go head-to-head with Zonko''s Joke Shop!"

    Fred and George exchanged a nce, their eyes twinkling with mischief and determination. "Ah, yes," Fred acknowledged, nodding. "Zonko''s is indeed a toughpetitor."

    "But¡ª" George chimed in, his voice rising with excitement.

    "We''ll knock them out of the park eventually!" the twins chorused together, their voices ringing with confidence.

    "This sounds really interesting¡ª" Harry grinned, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "Say, if I wanted to invest in your venture too, would you be open to it?"

    Before Fred and George could respond, Remus held up a hand, his expression suddenly serious. "No, Harry," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "I know James and Lily left you a considerable sum of galleons in your Gringotts vault, but that money is currently reserved to ensure you canplete your education at Hogwarts without any financial worry. Until youe of age, I don''t want you using those funds for anything else."

    Harry''s face fell, a mixture of disappointment and frustration clouding his features. "But Fred and George aren''t of age either," he argued, his voice taking on a stubborn edge. "And you''re willing to help them!"

    George, sensing the potential for Remus to reconsider his investment, quickly intervened declining Harry''s offer. "Now, now, Harry," he said, his voice soothing but with an undercurrent of anxiety. "Let''s not go messing up our business ns, shall we?"

    After a moment''s pause, during which he seemed to be considering something, George turned to Remus with a shrewd smile appearing on his lips. "So, Remus," he began, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "We''re partners now, right? Perhaps we should have a little chat about our respective shares in this venture, don''t you think?"

    Sirius, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were all shooed out of the room because the twins believed the following discussion would involve core business secrets, and outsiders had no right to know.

    Out in the hallway, Ron''s face flushed with indignation. "I''ve half a mind to tell Mum about all this!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the worn wooden walls. "Business secrets, my foot! As if anyone would want to pry into their silly schemes. If I wanted to, I could bring their whole n crashing down right this second!"

    Sirius, leaning against the handrail, silently smiled at Ron''s outburst. Meanwhile, Harry stood off to the side, his arms crossed and a sullen expression on his face. He was still sulking about Remus''s refusal to let him invest his own money.

    "I suggest you don''t do that, Ron¡ª" Hermione wholly agreed with Remus''s point about Fred and George not sneaking around producing things at Hogwarts and instead spending more time umting knowledge. However, she still felt Remus shouldn''t be dragging Fred and George, who were still students, into business.

    Even knowing that Ron was speaking out of anger and frustration, Hermione feltpelled to give him a rational warning. "Unless, of course, you''re keen on bing mortal enemies with Fred and George," she continued, her brown eyes boring into Ron''s. "Is that really what you want to see happen?"

    There was silence in the hallway. After a moment, Harry broke the silence. "Come on, Ron," he said, some of the sullenness leaving his voice. "Let''s head out to the open ground and y some Quidditch. It''ll do us both some good."

    Ron hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

    The two boys made their way outside, leaving the others behind.

    Hermione watched them go, then turned and headed back to Ginny''s room. With the new school year rapidly approaching, she was eager to return to her annual tradition of memorizing all of the uing year''s textbooks.

    As the afternoon deepened, Sirius was sitting in the Weasley''s overgrown yard. From his vantage point, he could see Harry swooping and diving on his broomstick over the distant hill. A faint smile appeared on Sirius''s lips as he watched his godson, free and joyful in the air.

    The peaceful scene was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Remus emerged from the back door of the Burrow; his face bearing signs of fatigue from the intense negotiations he''d just concluded.

    "How did the talk go?" Sirius asked, his voice casual. "Those two little rascals aren''t exactly pushovers, are they?"

    Remus let out a weary sigh as he settled himself next to Sirius. "You can say that again," he replied, his voice tinged with both exasperation and admiration. "It certainly wasn''t a walk in the park."

    Like Sirius, Remus''s gaze was drawn to Harry''s distant figure. The cool breeze ruffled Remus''s graying hair, exposing more of the premature wrinkles that lined his face. Perhaps it was the strain of the recent negotiation, or maybe the weight of their shared past, but in that moment, Remus looked older than his years.

    Afortable silence settled between the two old friends, broken only by the asional distant shout of excitement from Harry or Ron as they yed their game. After a while, Sirius turned to face Remus, his expression suddenly serious.

    "Are you nning something, Remus?"

    "Just as I said, Sirius¡ª" Remus didn''t seem at all surprised by Sirius''s question. His gaze never left Harry, and his voice sounded a bit weathered, "Fred and George''s talent in joke products is as outstanding as Harry''s talent in Quidditch. It''s worth my help, and coincidentally, I also need a job with ie."

    "And?" Sirius pressed, tilting his head to catch Remus''s eye.

    Remus was silent for a long moment. Finally, he turned to meet Sirius''s gaze, his amber eyes filled with a mixture of determination and resignation.

    "We all feel it, Sirius," he said softly. "Voldemort is returning. It''s only a matter of time. And when he doese back, his first move will undoubtedly be to target Harry."

    Remus paused, his gaze drifting back to the distant figure of Harry on his broomstick. "Of course, Hogwarts has Albus, and there''s Bryan as well. I have faith in their ability to keep Harry safe. But I can''t just sit idly by, can I? I need to do my part."

    His voice took on a note of quiet resolve. "By being in Hogsmeade, I''ll be perfectly positioned to hear any news or rumors immediately. This can give Albus some help, and if anything, unexpected happens, I can immediately rush to Harry''s side.

    Lily and James, they gave their lives for Harry and you Sirius ¨C you''ve suffered more than most could bear, I can''t do nothing, can I?"

    Sirius reached out, sping Remus''s shoulder firmly. "You''ve borne no less than any of us, Remus¡ª"

    The two friends sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. The once vibrant and seemingly invulnerable Marauders ¨C now reduced to this. One a fallen hero, another a despised traitor, a third who had endured twelve hellish years in Azkaban, and thest who had struggled daily against prejudice and poverty.

    The whims of fate and the harsh realities of their world, when considered deeply, could bring even the strongest wizard to tears.

    After a moment of mncholy, Sirius straightened up, a familiar glint of determination in his eye. "I can help you, Remus," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Those two mischief-makers still have their studies to focus on. If you''re partnering with them, there''s bound to be a mountain of work to handle. I could help you look after the shop or manage the workshop."

    Remus chuckled, shaking his head fondly at his Sirius''s enthusiasm. "I appreciate the offer, Sirius, but I''m not sure this kind of work would suit you," he said gently. "Let''s be honest ¨C you''d find it terribly dull after a while. Running a shop and managing a workshop require a level of patience and attention to detail that, well... let''s just say they''ve never been your strong suits."

    Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Remus held up a hand, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Remember that time in our fifth year when you tried to organize our dormitory? Within a week, it looked like a Hippogriff had rampaged through it."

    A bark ofughter escaped Sirius as the memory surfaced. "Fair point," he epted, running a hand through his shaggy ck hair. "But surely there must be something I can do. I can''t just sit around twiddling my thumbs while everyone else is working towards protecting Harry."

    Remus''s expression softened, understanding the restlessness that gued his friend. After years of forced inaction in Azkaban, Sirius was desperate to be useful, to make up for lost time.

    "If you''re set on finding something productive to do, something that allows you to fulfill your duties as Harry''s godfather," Remus said thoughtfully, "I suggest you have a chat with Alb... I mean, Bryan. He''s bound to have some ideas that would suit you."

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0422 Eve of Departure

    0422 Eve of Departure

    Fred and George eventually apologized to Mrs. Weasley and made some promises. This wasn''t because they had deeply recognized their ''mistakes'' and decided to mend their ways, but rather due to the additional requirements Remus had when reaching an agreement with them.

    Regardless, the atmosphere in the house had improved considerably because of this.

    As night fully embraced the vige, the sky transformed into a canvas of deep, rich blue. The twinkling stars, usually so prominent in this rural setting, were outshone by the brilliance of the moon. Cool evening breezes, carrying the scent of wildflowers and freshly cut grass, danced across the boundless wilderness surrounding the Burrow. The knee-high grass swayed in rhythmic waves, creating an illusion of a green sea stretching as far as the eye could see.

    Even though he had been living here for over half a month, Harry was still captivated by this leisurely,fortable scene before him. He stood at the window, gazing at this view for a long time, only slowly turning away when Hermione and Ginny returned from their run and entered the yard.

    The room was a mess. Harry and Ron''s holiday homework, clothes, and shoes were scattered everywhere. Ron was struggling to pack his luggage. Although there was still some time before school started, they couldn''t be sure how long this Quidditch World Cup wouldst. If it went on for a whole week likest time, it would be toote to do these things then.

    "They''re back," Harry said casually as he carefully folded his Gryffindor Quidditch robes into a square.

    "Who?" Ron, so deeply engrossed in his packing struggle, took several moments to process Harry''s words. His blue eyes, clouded with confusion, slowly cleared as he realized who Harry was talking about.

    "It''s really boring¡ª" Ron grumbled, his frustration evident as he unceremoniously stuffed several pairs of maroon socks (a color he detested) into his already overflowing trunk. "I don''t understand why they still have to do this during summer vacation."

    "Because Professor Watson''s order was to run for half an hour every day," Harry said. "Hermione is the teaching assistant for this course, so she definitely wants to excel in it."

    Ron''s face scrunched up in a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. "That''s why it''s boring. I don''t understand how running and dodging dungbombs can be of any use..." His voice trailed off, but then he continued with renewed vigor, "Yeah, Professor Watson is indeed good, no doubt he''s a capable guy, but that''s the problem, Harry. Capable people are always a bit entric, like Dumbledore."

    Harry didn''t respond.

    In truth, Ron''s statement wasn''t entirely urate, and Harry knew it. The vast majority of young witches and wizards who had persisted with Professor Watson''s unconventional course had already seen the value of their current training. The seemingly ridiculous task of dodging dungbombs was, in fact, a clever way to increase their agility - a skill that could prove life-saving when dodging spells in a real magical duel.

    Ron had already given up on this course, and for the past few days, possibly because Fred and George had received arge investment, he had been in a gloomy mood.

    Ron always seemed sensitive when it came to money-rted issues. Both Harry and Hermione were well aware of this, but they found themselves at a loss for how to address it. If they put themselves in Ron''s position - constantly overshadowed by sessful older brothers, always making do with hand-me-downs, and now watching his twin brothers potentially on the brink of financial sess - they might have been even more easily upset.

    But neither Harry nor Hermione knew how to console their friend without potentially making the situation worse. So, as they often did in such delicate situations, they opted to change the subject or simply keep quiet, allowing Ron to work through his feelings in his own time.

    The tense silence that had fallen over the room was suddenly broken by the sound of the door swinging open.

    "You two are really slow at this," Hermione said as she suddenly opened the door and walked in a whileter.

    She seemed to have juste from the bathroom, her hair still wet and she was drying her hair with a damp towel.

    She was wearing a new sky-blue nightgown with whitece at the cuffs. Perhaps because she had grown taller during these days at the Weasleys'', Hermione''s ankles were exposed to the air. After entering the room, she looked around, then stepped over Ron''s trunk on the floor and sat on the edge of Harry''s bed, focusing on drying her hair.

    A faint, fresh fragrance suddenly filled the air of the room, and even the light seemed to brighten a bit.

    Ron''s reaction to Hermione''s entrance was immediate and obvious, at least to anyone who knew him well. His face underwent a rapid series of transformations - from surprise to embarrassment. In a poor attempt at nonchnce, he averted his gaze and buried his head in his trunk, pretending to be deeply engrossed in rearranging its already chaotic contents.

    "Have you finished packing, Hermione?" Harry asked, pulling out the robe that was trapped under Hermione''s bottom. He shook it in the air before carelessly stuffing it into his trunk.

    "I did it this afternoon while you were trying to get information out of Sirius and Remus about what''s going to happen at Hogwarts next term," Hermione replied.

    Ron, having somewhat recovered hisposure, chimed in from his position at the desk where he was now pretending to organize his summer homework. His eyes, however, kept darting towards Hermione, never quite making direct contact.

    "Oh, why aren''t you curious at all?" he asked, a note of frustration in his voice. "All summer, Percy has been teasing us into asking about this, but when we actually ask, he cites Ministry rules as an excuse. But I don''t see why it needs to be kept secret anymore, right? In this house, I reckon we three are the only ones who don''t know."

    "Ginny doesn''t know either, I asked her. And Ginny couldn''t get anything out of Fred and George," Hermione said stretching. Her body, already showing signs of early development, had be even more vibrant due to the consistent exercise she''d maintained over the summer.

    "If they were willing to tell us, they would have done so already, Ron. I''m more curious about who the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be next year. Sirius was about to tell us, but then we started discussing Harry''s scar, and he forgot about it."

    "If it wasn''t for that stupid cow Parkinson''s idiocy," Harry eximed, his voice filled with indignation, "Sirius would still be the professor for this course!"

    Ron, seemingly unable to bear the heated atmosphere in the room any longer, moved to the open window. The cool night air washed over him as he took a few deep breaths before responding.

    "It''s probably for the best, mate¡ª" he said, his voice carrying a mix of resignation and an attempt at optimism. "Quirrell, Lockhart, and Lupin, look at their unfortunate experiences. Only Professor Watson is an exception, but you can''tpare him to others, can you? No one can see through how capable he is... At least Sirius is safe now. He hasn''t been sent to Azkaban or St. Mungo''s, and he can still happily go to the World Cup with us in good health. That''s good enough."

    Harry had to admit, grudgingly, that Ron sometimes disyed surprising insight. Reflecting on Ron''s words, he also found himself agreeing. Perhaps it was indeed better this way. The thought of Sirius free, happy, and able to attend the Quidditch World Cup with them was indeed something to be grateful for.

    However, a nagging worry still gued Harry''s mind. "Whoeveres to teach this course, I just hope they won''t be Voldemort''s pawn¡ª" he said, his voiceced with concern.

    "Why would you think that, Harry"

    The reaction to Voldemort''s name was immediate and dramatic. Ron, having grown up in a wizarding family where the his name was never spoken, visibly flinched. It was as if someone had suddenly doused him with ice-cold water in the dead of winter. His face paled, making his freckles stand out even more starkly against his skin.

    Hermione, despite her Muggle upbringing and generally rational nature, wasn''t entirely immune to the fear that name inspired. She straightened up abruptly, her eyes widening in surprise. Her mouth opened slightly, as if she wanted to admonish Harry for using the name so casually, but no words came out.

    Noticing their reactions, Harry borated, "Sirius and Remus talked to me earlier, instructing me not to sneak into the Forbidden Forest this term, and not to use the secret passage to go to Hogsmeade when it''s not open¡ª" His voice was gloomy, "My dreams must have made them think Voldemort is nning some sort of scheme, and this scheme is likely rted to me."

    Hermione was quick to voice her agreement with the adults'' caution. "But you have to admit, it''s indeed possible, isn''t it, Harry? I think Sirius and Remus are right, we must be more careful..." Her brow furrowed in concentration as she continued, "And Professor Watson''s physical education ss, you should start training again too. At least if you encounter any danger, it could increase your chances of escape!"

    Ron, however, was not convinced. He turned from the window, his face a mix of exasperation and forced boldness.

    "Oh, you''re just being needlessly worried, Hermione," he said dismissively, waving a hand as if to brush away her concerns. "Even if You-Know-Who is really nning some scheme against you, Harry, he can''t possibly break into Hogwarts, can he? I''d like to see how he ns to kidnap you under the noses of Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson."

    Hermione''s response was swift and sharp. She fixed Ron with a disapproving re, her brown eyes shing with intensity.

    "You-Know-Who isn''t just powerful in magic, Ron," she said, her voice taking on the lecturing tone they''d all be familiar with. "He''s also a master of cunning schemes. The book ''Major Magical Events of the Twentieth Century'' describes many cases where You-Know-Who effortlessly brought the Ministry of Magic to the brink of copse and threw the entire wizarding world into panic."

    She paused, her expression softening slightly as she turned to Harry. "Of course, I''m not suggesting Harry should live in constant fear, but at least, you should take Sirius and Remus''s advice seriously, Harry."

    The tension in the room had reached a palpable level. Ron, clearly ufortable with the serious turn the conversation had taken, and perhaps even more ufortable with Hermione''s presence in her current attire, decided it was time to make his exit.

    "Alright, tomorrow is the World Cup. Let''s not make everyone tense with this kind of talk right now, Hermione," he said, his eyes darting towards Hermione before quickly averting his gaze from her form in the thin nightgown.

    "Oh, it''s really hot in here, Harry!" Ron eximed, his face flushed as he stumbled towards the door. The coolness from the open window seemed to have no effect on his sudden difort. "I need to go take a shower. Mom said we have to get up at five in the morning to set off, so we''d better go to sleep early."

    With that hasty exnation, Ron fled the room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in a moment of awkward silence.

    Harry, his mind still preupied with thoughts of Voldemort and the ominous warnings from Sirius and Remus, took a moment to process Ron''s abrupt departure. The cool breeze from the window contrasted sharply with Ron''s im of heat, leaving Harry slightly bewildered. He turned his gaze to Hermione, his emerald eyes questioning behind his round sses.

    "Is it hot?" Harry asked, genuine confusion coloring his voice. He nced back at the open window, where the night air continued to bring in the refreshing scents of the countryside. The coolness of the breeze against his skin seemed at odds with Ron''sint. Turning back to Hermione, Harry''s brow furrowed as he noticed an unusual flush creeping up her cheeks.

    Hermione, typicallyposed and eloquent, seemed to shrink under Harry''s questioning gaze. "Oh¡ª" she stammered, a hint of guilt in her voice. Her hands, which had been idly ying with the hem of her nightgown, suddenly stilled. "Um, maybe..." she trailed off, her usually confident demeanor faltering.

    "Well then," Hermione said, her voice artificially bright as she hurried towards the door. "Get some rest early, Harry. Good night¡ª"

    With those words, Hermione slipped out of the room, leaving behind only the lingering scent of her shampoo and a faint trace of the tension that had permeated the air moments before.

    Harry stood alone in the room, feeling as though he had missed something important.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0423 Arrival

    0423 Arrival

    Harry had a restless night, partly because he couldn''t shake off the topic they had discussed the previous evening. Although he knew he couldn''t guess what Voldemort was up to, he couldn''t help but let his imagination run wild. The other reason for his sleeplessness was Ron, who also seemed to have trouble sleeping.

    Perhaps due to his excitement about the World Cup, Ron kept tossing and turning in bed, causing his iron bed frame to creak and squeak, keeping Harry awake.

    It wasn''t until the early hours of the morning that the noise subsided, but then Harry started dreaming again. This time, the dream was nothing out of the ordinary and had nothing to do with Voldemort; instead, it was a jumble of random events.

    First, he dreamed that he had returned to Hogwarts, where Professor McGonagall was very displeased with the quality of his summer homework. She threatened to make him clean the bathrooms for an entire year unless he could ensure Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup for the next few years.

    As Harry was arguing with Professor McGonagall, the scene suddenly shifted, and he found himself on a huge Quidditch pitch. The grass beneath his feet was a vibrant emerald green, trimmed to perfection. Towering stands surrounded the pitch, their colorful banners whipping in the breeze. The air was electric with excitement, filled with the chatter and cheers of thousands of spectators.

    Harry looked down to find himself dressed in the crisp white and red uniform of the Ennd National Quidditch team. As he mounted his broom, ready to kick off, Harry''s eyes scanned the crowd. He spotted familiar faces from Hogwarts scattered throughout the stands - Dean and Seamus waving a giant English g, Luna wearing her characteristic lion-head hat, and even Snape, looking as sour as ever in the teachers'' section. But it was one face in particr that caught Harry''s attention. Cho Chang, her long ck hair rippling in the wind, was leaning over the railing of the nearest stand. Her dark eyes locked with Harry''s, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Then, clear as a bell despite the roar of the crowd, he heard her voice:

    "If you win the match, I''ll go on a date with you, Harry. Otherwise, I''ll go with Cedric!"

    "That''s not fair!" Harry shouted angrily. He was about to protest to Cho, frustrated that Cedric could easily get a date with her while he had to win a match. But as he jumped off his Firebolt, instead ofnding on the grass, he crashed onto the floor of Ron''s cramped bedroom.

    Outside the window, the world was shrouded in the inky ckness of early morning. The room itself was dim, illuminated only by a thin sliver of light seeping through the crack beneath the door. As Harry''s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he made out the familiar shapes of Ron''s cluttered room - posters of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team barely visible on the walls, stacks ofic books wobbling precariously on the nightstand, and Ron''s snoring form still sprawled across his bed.

    The sound of soft footsteps approaching drew Harry''s attention to the door. It creaked open slowly, revealing Mrs. Weasley''s kind face peering into the room. Her eyes widened slightly as she noticed Harry on the floor.

    "Having a nightmare, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice gentle and motherly. She took a step into the room, the floorboards groaning softly under her weight.

    From his bed, Ron stirred at the sound of his mother''s voice. "What''s not fair?" he mumbled groggily, his words slurred with sleep. He yawned widely,pletely oblivious to the fact that his restless tossing and turning had kept Harry awake for most of the night.

    Harry felt a rush of heat creep up his neck and into his cheeks as he recalled the details of his dream. The thought of exining why he had been shouting about fairness - especially the part about Cho - was mortifying. He silently thanked the darkness of the room for hiding his burning face.

    "Oh, I dreamed I was in Potions ss¡ª" Harry lied quickly, grasping for a usible exnation. His mind raced, piecing together a story that would satisfy Ron and Mrs. Weasley without revealing the embarrassing truth. "Snape was making me clean the ssroom all by myself," he added, hoping the details would make the lie more convincing.

    Ron, still half-asleep,tched onto this exnation with unexpected enthusiasm. "Oh, you should''ve punched him right in the nose, don''t hold back, Harry," he said, his voice growing clearer as he woke up more fully. "Smash it like Dumbledore''s¡ª"

    "Don''t talk about Dumbledore like that," Mrs. Weasley interrupted sharply, her tone carrying a note of disapproval. She shook her head slightly, then seemed to remember why she hade in the first ce. "Hurry up, Ron," she urged, her voice taking on a more businesslike tone. "Your father''s already waiting downstairs!"

    With that, Mrs. Weasley bustled out of the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway as she went to each room to wake everyone up, constantly urging them to get ready quickly.

    Despite Mrs. Weasley''s efforts, it still took nearly half an hour for everyone to dress, freshen up, and gather in the living room. The air was thick with the mingled scents of soap, toothpaste, and the faint mustiness of sleep-warm bodies. Yawns punctuated the shuffling of feet and the rustle of clothes as the hazy-eyed group assembled.

    Mrs. Weasley, looking stressed but determined, swept into the room with a canvas bag in her hands. "No time for breakfast, Arthur," she said, tossing the bag to her husband. Mr. Weasley caught it with a slight fumble, looking both grateful and apologetic. Mrs. Weasley leaned in to nt a hasty kiss on his cheek. "Remember to get something for the children to eat when you get there," she added, her eyes scanning the group to ensure everyone was present.

    As they marched out of the house into the pre-dawn earth, the chill of the early morning air hit them like a physical force. It was a shock to the system after the warmth of the Burrow, causing involuntary shivers and prompting several of the children to pull their jackets tighter around themselves. The moon, a pale silver disk, still hung high in the sky, casting an ethereal light over thendscape. Only to their right, a faint gray-green tinge on the horizon indicated the approaching dawn.

    The youngsters were all too sleepy to talk, with only Mr. Weasley and Sirius leading the way, chatting at the front.

    "--Ludo got me the tickets," Mr. Weasley was saying, his breath visible in the cool air. "He''s been in a foul mood these past couple of months, probably due to the stress of organizing the World Cup. It''s only been these past few days that he''s started to seem more like himself." Mr. Weasley paused to navigate a particrly tricky part of the path, his wand providing a faint light to guide his steps. "Honestly, I think he should take a few days off, as long as he doesn''t go missing too."

    Sirius, who had been silent up to this point, perked up at the mention of someone going missing. "Who went missing?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice. Despite his years away from the wizarding world, Sirius still had a keen interest in the goings-on at the Ministry. "Did someone from the Ministry disappear?"

    Mr. Weasley nodded; his expression serious even in the dim wandlight. "Someone from Ludo''s department," he exined, slightly out of breath as they began to climb a steeper section of the path. "You should know her, Sirius, given your age. It''s Bertha Jorkins."

    At the mention of the name, Sirius''s brow furrowed in concentration, as if trying to ce a face to the name. Mr. Weasley continued, "She requested leave from the Ministry to go on holiday in Albania, and there''s been no word from her for over a month now."

    Sirius''s eyes widened in recognition. "I do know her¡ª" he said slowly, his voice tinged with a mix of surprise and concern. He was silent for a moment, lost in thought as he went through memories from what felt like a lifetime ago. "Yes, she was a bit scatterbrained," he finally said, "but had a remarkable memory for gossip. She was also keen on prying into others'' private affairs and spreading rumors."

    A wry smile crossed Sirius''s face as he added, "I guess you lot wouldn''t have liked her much, but hasn''t the Ministry sent anyone to look for her? Albania isn''t exactly the safest ce."

    "I think I''ve heard that name before--" Harry suddenly frowned, "but I can''t remember where."

    Mr. Weasley nced back at Harry, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe Percy mentioned her when he was talking about old Barty," he suggested casually. "Bertha used to work for Barty, but waster transferred to work under Ludo. It''s not surprising; she''s changed departments quite a few times over the years, never staying in one ce for too long."

    As Sirius and Remus moved on to other topics, their voices fading into the background of Harry''s thoughts, as he continued to ponder the mystery of where he''d heard Bertha Jorkins'' name. He was certain he hadn''t heard it from Percy, but he just couldn''t ce where. Yet, his instincts kept pushing him to ponder this question.

    Climbing a mountain at night wasn''t exactly a pleasant activity. Their feet were constantly tripping over hidden rabbit holes or slipping on dark, slimy leaves. Mr. Weasley and Sirius soon ran out of breath for talking and focused on navigating the path ahead.

    In contrast, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins maintained steady breathing and a stable pace, unconsciously pulling ahead of the others. By the time Harry stood at the mountaintop gazing at the dawn, Mr. Weasley and the others were still several hundred feet behind.

    "Oh, my goodness, children, you''ve really surprised me," Mr. Weasley said, panting as he wiped the fog from his sses after finally reaching the summit. "Have you had professional mountain climbing training?"

    Sirius, who was bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath, managed a wry smile. "It''s Bryan''s physical education ss¡ª" he exined, straightening up and wiping sweat from his brow. "These kids have been receiving physical training from Bryan all along."

    "Oh, is that so!" Mr. Weasley eximed, clearly surprised. But then he noticed that his youngest son, Ron, seemed equally out of breath.

    "What''s the matter with you, Ron?" Mr. Weasley asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and mild disappointment. "You haven''t been skipping this ss regrly, have you?"

    Ron''s face, already red from exertion, deepened to a shade that rivaled his hair. He lowered his head, unable to meet his father''s questioning gaze. "No, Dad," he mumbled, scuffing his shoe against the rocky ground.

    "I don''t think you''d dare skip Bryan''s sses," Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Then you should step up your training."

    Apart from Mr. Weasley, everyone else knew that Ron had long since given up on this ss, but no one wanted to tell Mr. Weasley the truth to spare Ron the embarrassment.

    Harry had expected to run into his Hogwarts ssmates at the World Cup, but he hadn''t anticipated meeting someone before even setting off. To make matters worse, it was someone he wasn''t particrly eager to see at the moment.

    It was Cedric, along with his father.

    Initially, Harry had been curious about Cedric''s father, as his first name was same as Professor Watson''s middle name. However, when this colleague of Mr. Weasley''s, a red-faced wizard with a short brown beard, started talking to him, Harry''s mood soured.

    Mr. Diggory was particrly keen on boasting about Cedric''s excellence. He brought up the Quidditch match fromst term that Harry had lost due to the Dementors, as well as Cedric''s outstanding performance in Professor Watson''s physical education ss. But everyone knew the truth: if the Dementors hadn''t interfered in that match, the oue could have gone either way. As for Professor Watson''s ss, while Cedric''s training results were indeed excellent, he was also the oldest, giving him a big advantage.

    They left Stoatshead Hill behind, making their way through the misty morning towards their destination.

    As they approached the Portkey - an old, worn-out boot lying inconspicuously in a small clearing - Harry felt a flutter of nervous anticipation in his stomach. This would be his first time using a Portkey, and he wasn''t quite sure what to expect.

    "Right then," Mr. Weasley said, pping his hands together. "Everyone gather ''round and ce a finger on the boot. Make sure you''re touching it when the timees."

    Harry approached the boot with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. He''d never traveled by Portkey before, and the idea of being whisked away by touching an old shoe seemed both ridiculous and slightly unnerving.

    As he ced his finger on the boot, joining the circle of people around it, Harry felt a sudden jolt of anticipation. The world around them seemed to hold its breath for a moment, and then¡ª

    It happened in an instant. Harry felt as if a giant hook had suddenlytched onto his navel, yanking him forward with incredible force. His feet left the ground, and the world became a whirling kaleidoscope of color and sound. Wind roared in his ears, drowning out any attempts at speech. He was vaguely aware of the others spinning alongside him, their bodies just blurs in the chaotic vortex.

    Just when Harry thought he couldn''t take any more, the dizzying journey that tried to empty the contents of his stomach, stopped. His feet mmed into solid ground with jarring force, sending him stumbling forward. Only his quick reflexes, honed by years of ying Quidditch and PE ss, kept him from falling t on his face.

    As Harry regained his bnce, blinking to clear the spots from his vision, he became aware of their new surroundings. They had arrived in what appeared to be a misty marsnd. The ground beneath their feet was spongy and damp, giving slightly with each step. A thick fog hung in the air, obscuring anything more than a few feet away.

    "Everyone alright?" Mr. Weasley''s voice came through the mist, sounding slightly breathless but cheerful. "All limbs ounted for?"

    There was a chorus of groans and muttered affirmations as the group took stock of themselves. Harry noticed that he wasn''t the only one looking a bit green around the gills. Ron, in particr, seemed to be having a hard time staying upright.

    "Blimey," Ron muttered, swaying slightly. "Is it always like that?"

    "More or less," Mr. Weasley replied, helping Ginny to her feet. "You get used to it after a while."

    As they began to move through the mist, following Mr. Weasley''s lead, Harry found himself pondering his previous experiences with wizarding transportation methods. There had been the heart-stopping, gut-wrenching sensation of Apparition with Professor Watson - a feeling akin to being squeezed through a very tight rubber tube. Then there was the dizzying, sooty journey through the Floowork at the Burrow, which had left him disoriented and covered in ash. And of course, he couldn''t forget his two hair-raising rides on the Knight Bus, with its breakneck speeds and erratic movements that had nearly sent him flying out of his seat more than once.

    "I think I prefer flying," Harry muttered to himself, earning a nod of agreement from Ron.

    It wasn''t until they parted ways with Cedric''s family and entered the misty marsnd that Harry''s mood began to lift.

    As they trudged through the mistyndscape, the fog began to thin, revealing glimpses of their destination. Slowly, like a curtain being drawn back, the spectator campsite came into view. As they stood there, taking in the magnificent sight, everyone''s breath seemed to catch in their throats. Even the usually talkative Weasley twins were struck momentarily speechless.

    Mr. Weasley, however, seemed to have been anticipating this reaction. His face split into a wide grin, a hint of pride twinkling in his eyes. He spread his arms wide, as if presenting the scene before them like a ringmaster introducing the main act of a circus.

    "Well, children," he said, his voice brimming with pride and excitement, "wee to the fruits of half a year''sbor by the Ministry of Magic!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0424 Magical

    0424 Magical

    Harry stood rooted, his emerald eyes widening to the point where they threatened to pop out of their sockets. The sight before him was magical, far surpassing even his wildest imaginings. He barely registered Mr. Weasley''s enthusiastic boasting in the background, so captivated was he by the expansive vibrant spectacle that unfolded across the vast expanse ofwn stretching out before them.

    The gently rolling green field, which seemed to extend endlessly towards the distant, dark line of an ancient forest, was absolutely packed with life and color. Thousands upon thousands of tents nketed thendscape, arranged in neat, orderly rows that created a patchwork of fabric and magic. The sheer scale of it all was breathtaking.

    Most of the tents, Harry observed with amusement, were clearly attempts by their wizard owners to blend in with the Muggle world. These unremarkable structures stood in stark contrast to the more mboyant creations that dotted thendscape. Some fanatical magic users had gone to great lengths to outdo their neighbors, resulting in a delightful hodgepodge of architectural absurdities.

    Harry''s gaze was drawn to a particrly ostentatious tent nearby, which had not only a decorative brick chimneyplete with curling smoke, but also an intricately carved wooden door with a shiny brass knocker and ¨C most bizarrely ¨C a fully functional weathervane perched atop its peaked roof.

    As his eyes traveled further afield, towards the edge of the forest, Harry noticed that the tents became even more oundish and diverse. Here, wizarding culture from around the globe was on full disy, with no attempts made to conceal the magical nature.

    A group of tents that looked like they''d been plucked straight from the Arabian Nights stood proudly, their silk walls shimmering with ever-changing patterns of starlight and desertndscapes. Nearby, a collection of structures that resembled traditional Japanese pagodas stretched towards the sky, their roofs were decorated with softly tinkling wind chimes that yed haunting melodies.

    Even more eye-catching was an enormous tent crafted entirely from what appeared to be living ice. Despite the warm summer air, a light dusting of snow continuously fell around its perimeter, much to the delight of a group of young children who danced and yed near it.

    Harry''s ears were assaulted by a symphony of differentnguages, He even caught snippets ofnguages he couldn''t begin to identify ¨C was that person actually speaking Mermish, or had he imagined the haunting, gurgling sounds?

    Amidst the sea of tents, a constant stream of people moved to and fro, their robes and outfits a riot of colors and styles that reflected the truly international nature of the event. Harry spotted a group of African wizards draped in vivid kente cloth, their wands tucked behind their ears as they discussed what sounded like Quidditch strategies. Not far from them, a cluster of witches wearing headdresses that Hermione recognized as traditional Russian kokoshniks haggled cheerfully with a vendor over the price of some steaming meat pies.

    The vendors themselves added anotheryer of excitement to the already electric atmosphere. Everywhere Harry looked, there were peddlers hawking their products from enchanted carts and stalls. Some of these magical merchants pushed carts like that of the trolley on the Hogwarts Express, loaded with familiar treats like Chocte Frogs and Bertie Bott''s Every vor Beans. Others offered more exotic goods ¨C Harry''s mouth watered at the sight of a cart piled high with glistening, rainbow-hued fruits that he''d never seen before.

    One particrly enthusiastic vendor, his hat adorned with what looked suspiciously like live leprechauns, was shouting at the top of his lungs as he demonstrated a set of self-shuffling ying cards. Every few seconds, the cards would leap from his hands, perform an intricate aerial dance, and then neatly reassemble themselves into a perfect deck.

    "It''s truly impressive, Arthur!" Sirius''s voice cut through Harry''s reverie, drawing his attention back to the group. Harry turned to see Sirius''s face zing with genuine admiration. "The Ministry asionally manages to do something worthwhile. You''ve essentially built a city here. Tell me, have you counted how many people havee to watch the match?"

    Mr. Weasley''s chest puffed out with pride, his thinning red hair catching the morning sunlight as he grinned at Sirius. "When I got the tickets from Ludo, he mentioned that they''d sold about a hundred thousand tickets in total. I reckon those who managed to get tickets wouldn''t pass up the chance toe, so... I''d say no fewer than a hundred thousand people!"

    The number hung in the air for a moment.

    <em><strong>''A hundred thousand!''</strong></em> Harry felt his jaw drop, and he wasn''t alone. Even the Weasley children, who had grown up immersed in the Wizarding world, looked utterly gobsmacked. Ron''s freckles stood out even more prominently against his suddenly pale face, while the twins, Fred and George, for once seemed at a loss for words.

    "I never imagined there were so many wizards!" Harry finally managed to say, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

    Mr. Weasley''s eyes twinkled as he observed the stunned faces of the young people around him. "The wizarding world is much more than just Hogwarts, children¡ª" he said with a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Then, ncing at the sun that had now fully risen above the horizon, he pped his hands briskly. "Come on, kids. The match starts tonight, so we have a whole day to explore this spectacle. First, we need to set up our tent, then make a fire¡ªall using Muggle methods, as per Ministry regtions!"

    Harry couldn''t help but grin at Mr. Weasley''s enthusiasm for Muggle ways, even as he noticed that the Ministry''s regtions didn''t seem to carry much weight here. Just a stone''s throw away, a group of wizards who looked like they might be from somewhere in Africa were conjuring arge, shimmering purple fire with casual flicks of their wands.

    Harry knew Mr. Weasley''s style well enough by now to recognize that for him, the prospect of trying out Muggle living methods might be even more exciting than the uing Quidditch match. The gleam in Mr. Weasley''s eyes as he patted the pockets of his Muggle-style jacket, searching for matches, was unmistakable.

    "No need to bother with the tent, Arthur¡ª" Sirius interjected gently, cing a hand on Mr. Weasley''s shoulder. "A week ago, I had Kreacher¡ªthat''s the ck family''s house-elfe and set up the tent. Remus should have arrivedst night and is probably waiting for us now!"

    Mr. Weasley''s face fell soically that Harry had to stifle augh. "Oh, what?" he said, looking as though someone had just told him Christmas had been canceled. "Well... but there are quite a few of us. Are you sure we don''t need to put up another tent?"

    Sirius, either oblivious to or choosing to ignore Mr. Weasley''s disappointment, waved a hand dismissively. "I''m certain, Arthur. The tent Kreacher brought is one my father used to use. It couldfortably house about twenty trolls, so it''s more than enough for all of us."

    At this, Harry and the others couldn''t contain their amusement any longer. They giggled quietly, exchanging knowing looks. It was clear that Sirius, for all his good intentions, didn''t quite grasp the depth of Mr. Weasley''s fascination with Muggle methods.

    Seemingly unaware of the quietughter, Sirius took charge, his eyes scanning the expansive campground with the keen gaze in order to position himself in these unfamiliar surroundings. After a moment, he nodded decisively and began leading them down the gently sloping hill they had been standing on.

    As they made their way through thebyrinth of tents, the delicious aroma of cooking food began to permeate the air. It seemed that breakfast was a universal custom for wizards from all corners of the globe. All around them, bleary-eyed campers were emerging from their tents, yawning and stretching as they set about lighting fires and preparing morning meals.

    They passed the spot where Harry had earlier seen the purple magical mes, and now he saw that the group of African wizards had put their fire to good use. They were in the process of roasting what looked like plump, juicy rabbits over the enchanted mes. The scent was mouthwatering, and Harry''s stomach gave an involuntary growl.

    A little further on, they encountered a group of middle-aged American witches who were just leaving a vendor''s cart. Each witch had an armful of Chocte Frogs and Bertie Bott''s Every vor Beans that made Harry''s sweet tooth ache with longing.

    "They''re selling Jelly Slugs and Exploding Bonbons over there¡ª" Ginny''s excited voice suddenly came up, causing the group to halt. Harry turned to see her tugging on Hermione''s sleeve, her brown eyes wide with enthusiasm. "Let''s go buy some."

    As the two girls darted off towards the candy vendor, the rest of the group paused to wait. Harry took the opportunity to continue observing the fascinating scenes unfolding around them.

    His gaze followed the group of American women who had just passed by, watching as they made their way towards a cluster of high-topped tents. These structures were particrly eye-catching, with shimmering banners and their national g ¨C the stars and stripes fluttering in the breeze ¨C strung between them. Arge sign, its letters seeming to dance and sparkle read: "Salem Witches'' Institute."

    As Harry watched, he noticed several young witches and wizards, some appearing to be about his own age or even younger, moving between these tents. They carried books and wands, chattering excitedly amongst themselves in distinctly American ents.

    "They''re not from Hogwarts?" The question slipped out before Harry could stop it, and he immediately felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. Of course they weren''t from Hogwarts ¨C the banner made that abundantly clear.

    "Hogwarts isn''t the only ce that teaches magic, Harry¡ª" Sirius said, draping an arm over Harry''s shoulders. He had clearly understood the reason for Harry''s surprise and exined with a smile, "There are magic schools all over the world. Seven of them are as famous as Hogwarts and recognized by the International Confederation of Wizards. The rest are either too small or have extremely strict admission requirements, and they prefer to keep a low profile, so it''s impossible to count exactly how many there are."

    Before Harry could fully process this new information, Ron chimed in with a story of his own. "Bill used to have a pen pal who went to a school in Brazil... that was years ago," he said, his freckled face scrunching up slightly as he recalled the details. "He wanted to do an exchange visit, but Mum and Dad couldn''t afford it. When he wrote to say he couldn''t go, that pen pal got angry and sent Bill a cursed hat that made his ears shrivel up."

    "Ahem¡ª" Mr. Weasley coughed awkwardly, exining, "Your mother and I thought... it wasn''t safe. Bill hadn''t really figured out who this person was. What if he''d been tricked? Bill wasn''t of age then."

    Harry noticed that Mr. Weasley''s ears had turned bright red, indicating he was under pressure¡ªjust like Ron when he was stressed.

    "Let''s go!" The two girls came bouncing back, their arms full of not just Jelly Slugs and Exploding Bonbons, but many other sweets Harry couldn''t name. As they distributed their treats among the group, Harry got a peculiar piece of gum.

    Curious, he popped it into his mouth and began to chew. For a moment, nothing happened, and Harry wondered if perhaps this was just ordinary Muggle gum. Then, without warning, the gum expanded rapidly, forming an enormous bubble that engulfed his entire head making it twice its normal size. Harry''s muffled yelp of surprise was drowned out by the raucousughter of his friends as they observed hisically erged head.

    "Now that''s a clever idea!" George said, eyeing Harry''s erged head with interest, while Ginny frantically searched for the gum wrapper to see if there were instructions on how to return Harry''s head to normal.

    "Looks like some sort of Engorgement Charm¡ª" Sirius said cheerfully,forting the nearly tearful Ginny. "Don''t worry, Ginny. Remus is waiting for us in the tent, and he''s particrly good at dealing with these little tricks. Ah, thee he is, I think I see him. Oh, just our luck..."

    The sudden shift in Sirius''s tone, caught everyone''s attention. Harry, still struggling with his oversized head, squinted in the direction Sirius was looking. He spotted Remus in the distance, looking as kindly as ever, but that wasn''t what had caused Sirius''s change in demeanor.

    Just beyond where Remus stood, Harry''s eyes fell upon a distinctive tent. It was extravagantly draped in striped silk; its walls were shimmering with what should be the protective enchantments. The structure more closely resembled a miniature pce than a camping tent,plete with gold-ted poles and fluttering emblems bearing a coat of arms Harry didn''t recognize but instinctively disliked. And as if the tent itself weren''t ostentatious enough, several magnificent peacocks were tethered at its entrance.

    "Oh¡ª" Mr. Weasley''s face darkened as he realized what Sirius meant. "The Malfoys'' tent."

    "What!" Harry stumbled, nearly tripping over his own feet as a wave of horror washed over him. His head was stillically oversized, and if his biggest rival at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy, saw him in this embarrassing state, he''d have material to mock Harry for the entire uing school year ¨C and probably beyond it.

    Harry desperately wanted to hide, to shrink away and be invisible, but it was toote. They were already close enough to the tent that running or hiding would be impossible without being noticed. And as if the universe itself was conspiring against him, at that very moment, the tent p was pushed aside and a familiar figure stepped out.

    Draco emerged into the sunlight, his white-blond hair gleaming like polished silver. He was impably dressed in expensive wizarding robes that seemed entirely too formal for a camping trip. His pale, pointed face wore its usual expression of bored disdain as he nced around, checking to see who his mother was speaking to. Instinctively, his eyes fell on Harry with his erged head.

    Draco''s grey eyes showed a moment of confusion before his mouth twisted into a sarcastic sneer, making Harry''s heart sink.

    Draco''s mother was about to turn and scold him, warning him about a "dangerous werewolf" outside and telling him to go back inside the tent. But before she could voice her admonishment, she noticed her son''s sudden change in expression.

    Narcissa, noticing Draco''s mocking look, followed his gaze and her already cold features became even more rigid as she spotted Sirius approaching with a stony face.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0425 Relatives

    0425 Rtives

    At the entrance of the pce-like tent, Draco stood in an impable suit, raising an eyebrow and casting a slightly mocking gaze at Harry, whose head had swollen due to the bubble gum Ginny had given him. Dracopletely ignored the fact that two of his former professors were standing right in front of him.

    "What''s going on, Remus?" Sirius asked in a low voice, his brow furrowed deeply as he addressed Remus, who was currently engaged in a silent standoff with Narcissa Malfoy.

    Remus pressed his lips together. His amber eyes reflected a mixture of exhaustion and helplessness. Running a hand through his prematurely graying hair, he replied in a hushed tone, "It''s Kreacher. He took it upon himself to invite your... to be a guest in the tent. I noticed themotion outside, so I came to investigate."

    "That disloyal traitor!" Sirius cursed without restraint, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides as he fought to control his temper. "Where''s Kreacher now? Where did the little backstabber run off to?"

    Remus''s expression softened slightly at his friend''s outburst. "I''ve already sent him to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for you all," he said, trying to diffuse the situation. "I thought it best to keep him upied and out of sight for now."

    Sirius, whoseplexion was already darkened from over two weeks of sunbathing at sea, turned an even deeper shade. The tan that had given him a healthy glow now seemed to emphasize the storm brewing in his eyes. With a determined set to his jaw, he strode past Remus, taking his ce in the tense standoff with Draco''s mother.

    "You''re not wee in my tent. Leave!"

    Faced with Sirius''s harsh rebuke, Narcissa showed little outward reaction, but a keen observer might have noticed the slight tightening around her eyes and the almost imperceptible lift of her chin.

    Draco, however, was not nearly as adept at hiding his emotions. His pale face suddenly flushed an angry red, the color creeping up his neck and staining his cheeks. He red at Sirius with unbridled fury, as he seemed about to step forward to defend his mother''s dignity. However, Narcissa''s hand, adorned with glittering rings, shot out to hold Draco back.

    Simultaneously, Arthur his kind face etched with concern, moved to restrain Harry and the others who were instinctively edging forward to join the fray. His hand gently pushed against Harry''s chest, and he shook his head slightly at the boy, whose swollen features did nothing to mask his determination. Arthur''s voice was soft but authoritative as he said, "Let them handle it, Harry. You youngsters shouldn''t interfere in adult matters."

    Hermione, her bushy brown hair even more wild than usual in the morning air, frowned deeply as she stood behind Arthur. In a low voice that barely carried to those around her, she asked, "What''s going on? That''s Malfoy''s mom... She seems to know Sirius?"

    Harry blinked, finally realizing as he watched the cold confrontation between Sirius and Malfoy''s mother that they might indeed know each other. Before he could voice his confusion, Ron spoke in a rather disdainful tone:

    "There''s nothing strange about that, is there? Sirius''s family is very famous and Pureblood wizard families have been intermarrying for hundreds of years. If you trace it back far enough, even Malfoy and I are rtives!"

    Thest part was said with a grimace, as if the very thought left a bad taste in his mouth.

    Even with his eyes squeezed into slits due to his swollen face, Harry still managed to widen them in shock as he stared at Ron. The fact that Ron was actually rted to Malfoy, even distantly, was quite a surprise to Harry. It made him realize just how little he truly understood about theplex web of rtionships in the wizarding world.

    "Your tent¡ª" Narcissa Malfoy''s voice cut through the air like a knife. She seemed to have originally intended not to speak to Sirius at all, but his rude tone appeared to have pierced her icy facade, igniting a spark of anger. She put on a disgusted expression, as if she had smelled something unpleasant.

    Narcissa''s gaze swept over the tent left behind by Sirius''s father, her eyes narrowing as if she were examining a particrly offensive piece of rubbish in a second-hand market. Her lips curled into a sneer as she took in every detail of the once-grand structure.

    To be fair, Sirius''s tent was still quite impressive in its own right. Its style didn''t pale inparison to the other luxurious dwellings that dotted the campground. The fabric was a deep, rich burgundy, embroidered with intricate golden patterns that seemed to move and shimmer in the early morning light.

    However, the ravages of time and neglect were evident upon closer inspection. The fabric, while still rich in color, was tattered at the edges and bore unmistakable signs of moth damage. Patches of the once-vibrant embroidery hade loose, leaving gaps in the elegant designs. The ropes and poles that held the tent upright showed signs of wear, and there was a general air of mustiness that showed years of neglect.

    The sorry state of the tent was a direct result of years of neglect. Over the past decade, Grimmauld ce had been maintained solely by Kreacher, the ck family''s ancient house-elf. However, Kreacher had spent most of his time ttering the shrieking portrait of Sirius''s mother, barely finding time or feeling to properly clean or maintain the ck family''s numerous properties. This prolonged negligence had resulted in the tent falling into a state of disrepair that was impossible to fully disguise, even with magic.

    "Is this all that''s left of the ck family in your hands? Just these worn-out relics?" Narcissa''s voice dripped with disdain, each word carefully chosen to inflict maximum damage. Her haughty expression spoke volumes about her opinion of Sirius in the family legacy. "Would you like to hear how Walburga evaluated you when she was alive? ''A good-for-nothing'' was spot on, wasn''t it? No wonder she emptied the ck family vault before she died, not leaving you a single coin."

    At the mention of his mother, a sh of gloom crossed Sirius''s dark face, quickly masked by anger. The muscles in his jaw tightened visibly as he clenched his teeth. It was clear that he didn''t care about the galleons hidden in the goblin''s underground vaults at Gringotts, but the mutual suspicion and hatred between mother and son was evidently not a wound that had healed with time. Having such a painful family history spoken of so coldly by an outsider, even one rted by blood, was like salt being rubbed into an old but still tender wound.

    "I''m not like you¡ª" Sirius began, his voice low and controlled as he fought to suppress the anger boiling in his heart. His grey eyes now held an icy coldness that could rival Narcissa''s own cial stare. "I don''t need to rely on galleons or constantly boast about my ridiculous bloodline to hold my head high and get through life."

    Harry, despite hisically swollen features, felt a surge of pride for his godfather. He was about to cheer for Sirius, his hand already half-raised in support. Even Remus, standing slightly to the side, couldn''t suppress the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips.

    Draco''s reaction, however, was far from amused. His pale cheeks, which had only just returned to their normal color, suddenly flushed a violent shade of red that shed horribly with his tinum hair. In a move so swift it seemed almost instinctive, his hand darted to his pocket. In one fluid motion, he drew his wand out and pointed it directly at Sirius, as his arm trembled with the force of his anger.

    A low growl escaped Draco''s throat, simr to a wolf whose territory had been invaded. His grey eyes, so like his mother''s, were wide with fury as he snarled, "Apologize to my mother, now!"

    "Watch out!" Harry''s shout pierced the tense atmosphere, his voice slightly muffled by his swollen cheeks. In an instant, the scene transformed from a tense verbal confrontation to a potentially dangerous magical standoff.

    Except for Mr. Weasley, who maintained his position, Harry and Hermione, along with Ron and his siblings, had instinctively taken defensive stances the moment Draco showed signs of attacking. Wands appeared in hands, each pointed steadily despite the trembling fingers that held them. In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere between the two groups became charged with potential violence.

    Wizards passing by looked at the scene in astonishment, their morning stroll to breakfast was suddenly interrupted by what appeared to be an impending duel. Some quick-witted individuals were already running towards the distance to report the situation to the campsite managers.

    To be honest, the threat from a young wizard like Draco wasn''t taken particrly seriously by seasoned wizards like Sirius and Remus. Both men had faced far worse in their lives ¨CHowever, as they looked at Draco pointing his wand at them with such naked hostility, disappointment showed clearly in both their eyes. After all, no matter how much they were at odds with the Malfoy family, Draco had once been their student at Hogwarts.

    "Put your wands away, all of you!" Mr. Weasley''s voice cut through the tension. His tone was no longer that of his usual good-natured self, but carried an authority that seemed to surprise even his own children.

    Mr. Weasley looked sternly at his children until, one by one, Harry and the others reluctantly lowered their wands. Satisfied that his side were under control, Mr. Weasley turned his attention to Draco. His voice was firm but not unkind.

    "Please put your wand away, young Mr. Malfoy. No fighting is allowed here!"

    "Why should I listen to you?" Draco''s arm didn''t move an inch.

    Mr. Weasley''s patience, while considerable, was not infinite. His kind face hardened slightly as he stepped forward, straightening his shoulders as he faced Draco.

    "I''m sorry, young Mr. Malfoy," he said, his voice taking on an edge of anger that his children rarely heard. "Perhaps you''ve forgotten, but I feel obliged to remind you that I am a Ministry official. It''s my responsibility to maintain order here." His blue eyes bored into Draco''s grey ones as he continued, "Are you prepared tounch an attack in front of a Ministry official? Are you ready to face the consequences of such an action?"

    Mr. Weasley''s words were clearly unexpected by Draco. Draco had never taken the Weasley family seriously before, dismissing them as blood traitors unworthy of his attention. But now, with quite a crowd gathering to watch the unfolding drama, he found himself in a difficult position.

    "Put your wand away, Draco. These riffraff aren''t worth it." Narcissa was more level-headed than Draco. She knew that under these circumstances, with so many witnesses and a Ministry official present, it was no longer appropriate or advantageous to continue arguing with this group.

    Moreover, Arthur Weasley was, after all, a long-serving Ministry official from a pureblood family, regardless of their blood traitor status. If things really escted, it might prove difficult for her husband, Lucius, to handle the political fallout. Thest thing the Malfoy family needed was more scrutiny from the Ministry, especially with the whispers of dark activities that still clung to their name like shadows.

    Narcissa lowered Draco''s arm. She gazed deeply at Sirius, as if trying to memorize his face, then put her arm around Draco''s shoulders and raised her voice slightly.

    "Let''s go, Draco, We''ll visit the Greengrass family''s tent. I''m sure they''ll provide much more... suitablepany." Her pause was deliberate, her next words chosen with surgical precision to inflict maximum damage. "There''s no need to argue with a criminal from Azkaban and a werewolf. It''s beneath us."

    The effect of Narcissa''s words was immediate. The crowd, which had been murmuring quietly amongst themselves, suddenly erupted into a cacophony of gasps, exmations, and hurried whispers. Many of the foreign wizards, who had been drawn to the confrontation out of simple curiosity, now looked at Remus and Sirius with undisguised terror.

    The more timid members of the audience began to back away, their eyes wide with fear as they regarded the two men as if they had suddenly transformed into dementors before their very eyes.

    Faced with people''s pointing and whispering, Sirius and Remus looked grim. However, they couldn''t exin anything to these uninformed foreigners, especially since, in a sense, Narcissa Malfoy wasn''t lying. Remus was indeed a genuine werewolf, and Sirius had indeed spent a third of his life in the infamous Azkaban.

    "Stop right there, Malfoy!" A sudden surge of anger welled up in Harry''s heart. He raised his wand again, shouting at Malfoy''s back.

    Draco, who had been allowing his mother to guide him away from the confrontation, paused at Harry''s call. He turned slowly, a sneer already forming on his face. As he took in Harry''s ridiculous appearance, the sneer morphed into a look of malicious amusement.

    "You look quite amusing, Potter, Oh, nning to make a grand appearance at the World Cup, are you?"

    Draco was thoroughly satisfied with Sirius and Remus''s embarrassment and he wasn''t at all concerned about Harry''s raised wand. Perhaps it was the presence of so many witnesses, or maybe he simply couldn''t take Harry seriously given his current appearance. Whatever the reason, Draco''s posture remained rxed, almostzy in its arrogance.

    With a final sneer, Draco turned away, following his mother without so much as a backward nce as they disappeared around the corner of a nearby tent.

    As soon as the Malfoys were out of sight, the crowd''s attention snapped back to Harry.

    "Potter? Is that Harry Potter?" The question rippled through the crowd, passing from person to person in an excited hush. Eyes that had moments ago been wide with fear now shone with curiosity and admiration.

    "It is him!" someone else confirmed, their voice tinged with wonder. "Even though his face is swollen, I saw his scar when he raised his wand!"

    "Oh, he''s the one who defeated You-Know-Who!" The exmation came from a wizard with a thick Eastern European ent. He turned to hispanion, tugging excitedly on the sleeve of their robe. "Cam, quickly get my camera. I want to take a photo of Harry Potter. Your mother has always been curious about him!"

    The mention of cameras seemed to break a dam, and suddenly there was a flurry of movement as people began rummaging in bags and pockets for their own magical cameras. Although people were afraid of werewolves and criminals, the foreign wizards who had just backed away couldn''t resist their curiosity and slowly began to approach.

    "Quick, get inside, Harry¡ª" Harry stood dumbfounded, not expecting so many foreigners to have heard of his name. Hermione, the first toe to her senses, grabbed Harry''s arm and pulled him towards the tent.

    Harry allowed himself to be led, still blinking in confusion at the rapid turn of events.

    "Huh¡ª" Sirius took a deep breath, running a hand through his dark hair in a gesture of mixed exasperation and resignation. "Let''s go, Harry, we''ll talk inside."

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0426 Inside The Tent

    0426 Inside The Tent

    If it weren''t for Professor Watson''s ssroom - once used for facing Inferi and hinkypunks, but now serving as a training room for physical education - Harry would have been amazed by the spaciousness inside Sirius''s father''s tent.

    From the outside, the tent appeared only half the size of Hagrid''s hut, but inside, it was dozens of timesrger. The wizard who created this tent seemed to have transnted an entire seaside vi into it. Harry''s aunt and uncle had always desperately wanted to buy a holiday home in Mallorca, they purchased numerous magazines and brochures about it. The luxurious mansions Harry had seen in those pages were quite simr to the four-story white building before him.

    "Wow-" The collective gasp of amazement echoed through the magically expanded space.

    The unpleasant events outside had dampened their spirits, but upon seeing the magnificent vi and the enormous, crystal-clear swimming pool stretching out before it, even the most reserved members of their party couldn''t help but be impressed. The less restrained Weasley children, in particr, found it impossible to contain their wonder and excitement.

    Ron, his freckled face zing with curiosity, broke away from the group. He rushed to the poolside, crouched down at the pool''s edge, and dipped his fingers into the sparkling water. The liquid''s perfect temperature and silky texture seemed to confirm its reality. Ron turned to Sirius, his expression a mixture of bewilderment and delight.

    "It''s a real pool," he eximed, his voice filled with awe. "Blimey, I thought it was just some sort of magical illusion!"

    Mr. Weasley, his balding head reflecting the soft light, was also awed by the sight before him. His gaze wandered from therge pool to the gently swaying palm trees that lined its edges, then up to the softly glowing orb in the sky that mimicked a perfect summer sun.

    "It''s truly eye-opening, Sirius-" he said, his voice filled with wonder and a hint of professional curiosity. "This is far more impressive than the tent I borrowed from Perkins. The charms work must be incrediblyplex."

    Harry, still grappling with the bizarre situation he found himself in, didn''t bother wondering about the identity of this Perkins person Mr. Weasley had mentioned. The impact of this luxurious magical tent, as impressive as it was, paled inparison to the shock of learning that Sirius and the Malfoys were rtives.

    The weight of this revtion, coupled with the physical difort of his magically erged head, was beginning to take its toll. After holding up hisically oversized head for what felt like an eternity, Harry''s neck was finally starting to protest with a dull, persistent ache. He raised a hand to his swollen cheek and frowned as he looked pleadingly at Sirius.

    Sirius, seeming to finally notice Harry''s predicament, turned to address Remus. His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of concern as he spoke. "Remus, see if you can help restore Harry''s head to its normal size. He ate a piece of enchanted bubblegum earlier, and well..." He gestured vaguely towards Harry''s bulbous head.

    "I know the kind of bubblegum you''re talking about, Not long before you arrived, when I went to fetch water, I saw a little boy with a simr problem. His head was about ten timesrger than yours is now, Harry-"

    Remus said, eyeing Harry''s head with interest.

    "But that boy returned to normal almost immediately after swallowing the other half of the gum. I guess you must have inadvertently swallowed both the prank half and the antidote at once, right, Harry?"

    Harry could only manage a soft, embarrassed mumble in response, his erged lips were making speech difficult. Then, under Remus''s expertly cast restoration spell, a tingling sensation spread across Harry''s scalp. His head began to dete with aical whooshing sound, like air escaping from a balloon, gradually returning to its normal proportions.

    Remus walked into the vi to inform Kreacher to serve food to everyone. As the others dispersed to explore this magical tent, Harry seized the opportunity to speak privately with Sirius. Mr. Weasley, sensing the father and son needed to talk, had given a knowing look to the remorseful Ginny before they went inside the vi to explore. By the pool''s edge, Ron, Fred, and George were already enthusiastically stripping off their shirts, ready to dive in and show off their swimming skills in therge pool.

    "What''s really going on, Sirius?" Harry asked, his voice low and tinged with confusion. "You and Draco''s mother? How are you rted?"

    Sirius let out a dry, humorlessugh, "Heh, just as Ron said earlier, Harry-" he began, running a hand through his dark hair. "In the wizarding world, there are some stubborn individuals who refuse to abandon outdated traditions. They''re the pure-blood families, obsessed with maintaining what they see as the purity of their magical lineage. They consider it shameful to marry half-bloods or Muggle-borns."

    He paused, his gaze distant, as if looking back through the years at a past he''d rather forget. "But this leaves them with few options. To ensure their families don''t die out, these pure-blood wizarding families end up intermarrying among themselves. So-" Sirius spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness towards Harry.

    Harry wasn''t entirely unaware of what Sirius was talking about. He had encountered enough prejudice and whispers of "blood status" during his time at Hogwarts to have a general understanding of the issue. He also knew that these pure-blood families generally had all their members sorted into the same house. It was just like how all the Weasleys were in Gryffindor, while the Malfoys'' ancestors were mostly from Slytherin.

    Sirius had rarely spoken about his own parents in the past, and Harry had assumed that the ck family, like the Weasleys, was an ''anomaly'' among pure-blood wizard families. But from what Draco''s mother had said outside earlier, it seemed that Sirius was the real anomaly within his own family.

    After a moment of heavy silence, broken only by the distantughter of the Weasley children sshing in the pool, Harry suddenly frowned as a particr detail from the earlier confrontation resurfaced in his mind. "Draco''s mom mentioned someone named Walburga earlier," he said, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Who is she exactly?"

    A shadow darker than the tent''s magical twilight shed across Sirius''s grey eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded, confirming Harry''s unspoken suspicion. "You guessed right, Harry. Walburga ck is - was - my mother. And yes, Narcissa Malfoy is correct in her assessment. My dear old mum didn''t like me much, to put it mildly."

    Sirius''s face twisted into a bitter smile, "In fact, to prevent me from inheriting the family fortune after I ran away, she made a will just before her death. She divided the wealth the family had umted over centuries between my two cousins. One of them, is Narcissa Malfoy. And the other, well-" He paused, a look of utter disgust crossing his face. "I really don''t like to mention that woman - Betrix Lestrange."

    Harry''s mind raced, trying to connect the dots. Cousins. The word triggered a memory, and he suddenly recalled the night of his fourteenth birthday dinner. Sirius and Remus had talked to him about the dream he''d had. Sirius had initially suspected that the woman in Harry''s dream was his cousin, but then immediately mentioned Narcissa Malfoy. So, it must have been this Betrix Lestrange?

    "That''s right, it''s her," Sirius confirmed, his voice dripping with disgust. "She was imprisoned in Azkaban with me. Of course, unlike me, she absolutely deserved to be locked up there for the things she''d done. Merlin knows, she reveled in her crimes."

    "What did she do?" Harry asked eagerly, realizing for the first time how little he knew about Sirius''s background.

    Sirius let out a harsh, humorlessugh. "What did she do?" he repeated, his voice thick with loathing. "She was Voldemort''s most faithfulpdog, his most fanatical supporter. Believe me, Harry, you won''t find anyone more devoted to Voldemort''s cause than Betrix Lestrange. Even in Azkaban, under the relentless torment of the Dementors, I heard her cackling many times over the years. She would rave about how everyone would pay when Voldemort returned, how the ''mudbloods'' and blood traitors would suffer."

    "But-" Harry began, still confused and wanting to ask more questions. However, Sirius was clearly losing patience with the subject. He waved his hand irritably, cutting off Harry''s half-formed question.

    "Don''t you understand yet, Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice rising with frustration. "Don''t you see what kind of people my mother and my rtives are? The vast majority of them are direct followers of Voldemort. Those who didn''t actively participate in his reign of terror still secretly contributed to it.

    And my mother, hah, yes, she wasn''t a Death Eater herself. But in my opinion, if she had been twenty years younger at the time, who knows what she might have done! Her portrait still hangs in our old family home, spewing hatred and bile at anyone who isn''t a pure-blood. That''s the kind of family Ie from, Harry. That''s the legacy I''ve been trying to escape my entire life."

    Sirius''s words made Harry''s heart heavy. Only now did he truly understand that the injustice Sirius had endured wasn''t just being misunderstood by the world for betraying Harry''s parents; his own family had probably caused him even greater harm.

    As Harry grappled with Sirius''s words, Mr. Weasley emerged from the vi, likelying to call them for dinner. The aromas of a hearty meal wafted from the open door, promising a brief breather from the heavy conversation.

    At that moment, the delicate wind chimes hanging outside the tent entrance suddenly rang out and a cheerful voice apanied the chime''s soothing sound.

    "Aho, is anyone home? I heard there was a bit of a kerfuffle here, and I had nothing better to do, so I thought I''d pop by and check it out!"

    "Oh!" Mr. Weasley''s demeanor immediately shifted from concern to excitement. His face lit up with recognition at the sound of the visitor''s voice. Quickly circling the expansive pool, he passed Sirius and Harry, heading towards the tent entrance, taking it upon himself to greet the visitor on Sirius''s behalf.

    "The man of the hour, Ludo!" Mr. Weasley called out cheerfully as he approached the entrance.

    "Hey, Arthur, old chap!" The voice outside seemed momentarily taken aback by Mr. Weasley''s unexpected presence, but quickly recovered its jovial tone. Before anyone could react, Ludo Bagman barged right into the tent, hisrge frame filling the entrance before he enthusiastically grasped Mr. Weasley''s hand, pumping it up and down in a high-spirited handshake.

    Bagman''s eyes widened as he took in the luxurious surroundings, his gaze sweeping from therge swimming pool to the elegant vi.

    "Is this your tent, Arthur?" he asked, clearly impressed. "It''s fantastic! I bet this tent could sell for at least six thousand Galleons on the market!"

    As Mr. Weasley engaged in energetic conversation with the neer, Harry leaned closer to Ron, who had climbed out of the pool along with Fred and George. "Who is he exactly?" Harry whispered; his curiosity piqued by the stranger''s mboyant entrance.

    Ron, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes, replied in a low voice, "That''s Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry. He used to be a professional Quidditch yer, you know. Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps and the English national team. Dad gets along well with him. He''s the one who helped us get our Quidditch World Cup tickets."

    Harry nodded in understanding, recalling that Mr. Weasley had indeed mentioned this connection before. He studied the neer with interest, taking in every detail of the most eye-catching person he had ever seen in the wizarding world - and given some of the entrics he''d encountered at Hogwarts, that was saying something.

    Ludo Bagman was dressed in a Quidditch robe that seemed to scream for attention. The fabric was adorned with broad horizontal stripes in vivid yellow and ck, resembling a giant bumblebee. Sshed across his chest, like an enormous ink blot was the image of a wasp-- the mascot of his former team. The robe, clearly designed for a man in peak physical condition, now tried its best to contain Bagman''s current form.

    It was quite obvious that Ludo Bagman had once been a man of impressive physical fitness. However, the passage of time and perhaps a fondness for good food and drink had taken their toll. His robes were stretched tightly across arge belly that protruded prominently, straining the fabric almost to its breaking point. Harry found it difficult to imagine that this man, with his potbelly and ruddy cheeks, had once been nimble and agile enough to y as a Beater for Ennd''s national Quidditch team.

    Despite his physical transformation, Bagman''s eyes still sparkled with the energy and enthusiasm of a much younger man.

    "Ludo received a report about a conflict here involving wands, and he''se to investigate," Mr. Weasley exined hurriedly as he led the boisterous man over to where Sirius and Harry stood. "However, I''ve already exined the misunderstanding to him," he added quickly, attempting to preempt any awkward questions.

    Mr. Weasley then turned to Bagman, gesturing towards Sirius with a sweep of his arm. "Actually, Ludo, this tent belongs to Sirius. I''m sure you''ve heard of him?"

    Bagman''s eyes widened even further, if that was possible, as they fixed on Sirius. Recognition lit up on his face, quickly followed by an almost childlike excitement. "Ah, of course, a household name!"

    "Sirius ck! By Merlin''s beard, it''s an honor to meet you in person!" Bagman eximed, pumping Sirius''s hand enthusiastically. "I was in Paris when I read about your story in the papers. Let me tell you, you''re a real hero, Sirius!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0427 Ludo Bagman (Bonus Chapter)

    0427 Ludo Bagman (Bonus Chapter)

    Ludo Bagman was indeed a surprisingly approachable wizard. As the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, he outranked Mr. Weasley in the Ministry by quite a margin. However, Harry couldn''t detect even a hint of haughtiness in his demeanor.

    Sirius, caught off guard by Bagman''s unexpected friendliness, stepped forward to shake hands. "Thank you¡ª" he began, a note of hesitation in his voice. "Actually, quite a few people think I''m aplete fool."

    This was true. Since Sirius''s story hade to light, he had been a controversial figure in the wizarding world. Some considered him as a tragic hero, while others saw him as a reckless idiot without a brain.

    Sensing the sudden tension, Arthur smoothly interjected, his amiable smile never wavering. "Ludo, let me introduce you to the rest of our party," he said, gesturing to the group of young wizards clustered around him. ""These are my three sons. The identical ones are Fred and George, this is my youngest boy, Ron, And of course, this is Harry Potter¡ª"

    Upon hearing Harry''s name, Bagman showed a slight look of surprise. His eyes immediately darted to the scar on Harry''s forehead. Harry was used to this reaction and didn''t feel offended. He was curious about Ludo Bagman, not because of his high position in the Ministry, but because Ludo had once been a world-famous Quidditch yer.

    Harry''s mind drifted to his former Quidditch captain at Hogwarts, Oliver Wood, who had graduated with dreams of bing a professional Quidditch yer. Harry himself had considered this option, and bing a Quidditch yer was one of the career choices he didn''t mind exploring.

    "As I was saying," Arthur continued, seemingly oblivious to the momentary awkwardness, "this is Ludo Bagman. You might recognize him from his Quidditch days. We owe these excellent tickets to his generosity¡ª

    Bagman beamed, waving his hand as if it were nothing.

    Suddenly, Bagman''s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. He leaned in lowering his voice to a whisper. "Say, Arthur, fancy a flutter on the match?" he asked eagerly, the jingling of what sounded like a considerable amount of galleons emanating from the pockets of his robes.

    "I''ve got quite a few interesting bets going already. Roddy Pontner''s put money on Bulgaria scoring first ¡ª gave him some rather nice odds, mind you, considering Irnd''s front three are absolutely formidable this year. And little Agatha Timms, bless her, has wagered half shares in her eel farm on the matchsting a full week!"

    Mr. Weasley''s expression wavered between amusement and concern. He was clearly familiar with Bagman''s fondness for gambling, and while he didn''t seem surprised by the invitation, a hint of hesitation crossed his features. After a moment''s deliberation, he reached into his pocket and produced a single gold Galleon.

    "Oh... well, I suppose a small wager couldn''t hurt," he said with a tone of resignation. "Let''s see... how about a Galleon on Irnd to win?"

    Bagman''s face fell slightly at the modest bet, but he quickly regained his enthusiasm. "A Galleon it is!" he said, taking out a small, leather-bound notebook and scribbling down the wager with rush. "Any other takers?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over the group beforending on Sirius with particr interest.

    Sirius raised an eyebrow, his initial fondness for Bagman''s approachability rapidly diminishing. It was clear that Bagman had likely deduced from their amodations that Sirius might have deep pockets, and the idea of being seen as an easy mark didn''t sit well with him.

    As Sirius opened his mouth to politely decline, he felt a slight tugging at the back of his robes. Turning, he found Fred and George Weasley looking up at him with pleading expressions, their eyes wide with hope and barely contained excitement.

    "You two want to get in on this?" Sirius asked, a note of amusement creeping into his voice.

    "No, Fred and George, your mother wouldn''t like to see this, and you''re nning to borrow money from Sirius?" Mr. Weasley frowned, ring at his two sons disapprovingly.

    "Mom burned all our inventions we used to make pocket money. That was months of our hard work!" Fred said, looking aggrieved.

    Mr. Weasley''s heart softened immediately. After a few seconds of hesitation, he said tentatively, "Alright, what do you want to bet on? I''ll pay for you¡ª"

    Before Mr. Weasley could finish his sentence, Sirius stepped in.

    "Let me handle this, Arthur," he said, his tone gentle but firm. He turned to address the entire group of young wizards, including Harry and Ron. "The Quidditch World Cup is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for many. You should all have the chance to participate fully. How about this - twenty-five Galleons each, and I''ll cover the cost for all of you."

    Harry didn''t have much reaction, but Fred and George immediately cheered. Ron started to cheer too but then hesitated, looking at Sirius uncertainly.

    "If I don''t want to participate¡ª" Ron began, his voice trailing off as he wrestled with his pride and his family''s financial situation.

    "Ron!" Mr. Weasley called out sternly, and Ron immediately backed down.

    "We''ll bet a total of fifty Galleons," Seizing the moment, Fred turned to Bagman, his eyes shining with excitement. "On Irnd to win ¡ª but Viktor Krum catches the Snitch."

    Bagman had been smiling at their exchange all along, but when the twins announced their choice, he looked surprised. "You think Irnd will win but Krum''ll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance... But I''ll tell you what - I''ll give you excellent odds on that one. How about fifteen to one? If you guess right, you''ll be walking away with 750 galleons from me!"

    The atmosphere around the group suddenly became electric. Ron''s breathing grew shallow and rapid, his face flushing an even deeper shade of red as he grabbed Harry''s wrist with trembling fingers. "Blimey, Harry," he whispered urgently, his voice barely audible. "What should we do? Who should we bet on?"

    Thanks to the galleons histe parents had left him in Gringotts, Harry had been living quitefortably these past few years. But several hundred Galleons if they won was still not a small sum for him!

    Harry looked to Sirius for help, but Sirius just smiled at him.

    "I''m afraid I can''t help you much here, Harry," Sirius said with a shrug. "You probably know more about current Quidditch than I do. Go with your instincts."

    Bagman, sensing the boys'' hesitation, leaned in closer, his voice taking on a silky, persuasive quality. "I should warn you," he said, his eyes gleaming, "just betting on Irnd or Bulgaria to win won''t you much. If you want to walk away with a real treasure trove, you need to make bold, precise predictions!"

    Bagman''s tone was like the temptation of a devil, making Ron''s mouth go dry.

    "There''s no doubt the Irish will win," Ron muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "Charlie thinks so too. They''ve got the best lineup in years." He paused, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. "But Lynch... he''s no match for Krum. Krum''s the best Seeker in the world, only eighteen, a proper genius..."

    Ron nced sideways at Fred and George, realizing that his twin brothers'' seemingly ridiculous prediction might actuallye true.

    Harry, having spent most of the summer trapped at the Dursleys'' and cut off from the wizarding world, found himself at a loss. His knowledge of the teams and yers was limitedpared to Ron''s passionate expertise. Recognizing this, he decided to follow his friend''s judgment.

    "What do you reckon, Ron?" Harry asked, his voice low and encouraging. "You know more about this than I do."

    Ron began to pace back and forth, his brow furrowed in concentration. "If we think about it like this," he muttered, his wordsing faster as his thoughts raced, "the match can''tst very long, can it?"

    The others watched in silence as Ron continued his thoughts. For Ron, raised in a family where every Knut was carefully counted, this represented a rare opportunity to potentially change his fortunes. He couldn''t afford to be careless.

    After several tense minutes of muttering and pacing, Ron finally returned to the group. He took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders as he faced Bagman.

    "Well, young man?" Bagman said kindly, his smile encouraging. "Have you made your decision? Come on, share your thoughts with us. After all, it''s just a bit of fun, isn''t it?"

    Ron nodded, a determined look settling over his features. "I agree with Fred and George, I think Irnd will win, but Viktor Krum will catch the Snitch first."

    Fred and George exchanged approving nces, nodding at their younger brother. But Ron wasn''t finished. He continued said with a determined look on his face:

    "And I bet the score difference between Bulgaria and Irnd won''t exceed twenty points!"

    "Oh, marvelous!" Bagman eximed, his face lighting up with glee, as if the fifty Galleons belonging to Ron and Harry were already his. "Those are some very precise bold predictions, my boy. Let''s see... for thatbination, I think we can offer odds of twenty to one!"

    Bagman''s quill flew across the pages of his notebook as he eagerly recorded their names, the amounts wagered, and the details of their bets. With a curl, he tucked the notebook back into his pocket and turned to Sirius, his eyes gleaming with barely contained excitement.

    Sirius, maintaining hisposure, reached into his money pouch and withdrew a handful of gleaming gold Galleons. He carefully counted out the agreed-upon amount and handed it over to Bagman, whose pockets now bulgedically with the weight of the coins.

    Bagman, perhaps fearing the children might have second thoughts, hurriedly distributed bet receipts to each of them before making his excuses and left.

    As the excitement of the moment began to fade, Mr. Weasley turned to find Ron praying clutching the Merlinmemorative coin gifted to him by Professor Watson. Arthur shook his head, a mixture of exasperation and fondness in his expression.

    "Don''t be so uptight, Arthur. It''s just to let the kids rx a bit," Sirius said nonchntly. "Come on, let''s go inside and get something to eat. You must be starving after waking up at the crack of dawn and trekking such a long way through the countryside."

    Sirius led Mr. Weasley, Harry, and the others into the vi. They passed through thevishly decorated foyer and navigated several turns in the maze-like corridors before finally reaching the dining room. To their surprise, they discovered that the vi truly lived up to its name. Besides the pool in the front, there was also a small, lush garden at the back.

    Remus had taken the initiative to move the heavy oak dining table out into the garden. The morning sunlight filtered through the leaves of ancient trees, casting dappled shadows on the crisp white tablecloth. Hermione and Ginny were already seated, enjoying a hearty breakfast in the serene setting.

    The garden''s location, far from the front yard, exined why they hadn''t heard the earliermotion.

    Harry''s emerald eyes widened as he gazed at the mountain of food spread out on the table. His stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl, a stark reminder of just how famished he was. The sight of golden-brown toasted bread, juicy sausages sizzling on a tter, sandwiches bursting with various fillings between soft slices of bread, and a towering pile of pumpkin pasties glistening in the morning light made his mouth water.

    Unable to resist the call of such a sumptuous breakfast, and without waiting for Sirius''s formal invitation, the hungry youngsters rushed to the table. They practically threw themselves into the cushioned chairs and Within seconds, the sound of clinking cutlery and enthusiastic chewing filled the air.

    Hermione, her bushy hair slightly tamed in the morning humidity, raised an eyebrow at Ron. "What took you lot so long?" she inquired, her tone a mix of curiosity and mild exasperation. Her gaze lingered on Ron, who had managed to stuff a pasty in each hand and was simultaneously gnawing on a particrlyrge sausage. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk''s, making his freckles stand out even more prominently against his flushed skin.

    Ron''s blue eyes sparkled with glee as he attempted to swallow his mouthful. After a moment of intense chewing and a gulp that looked almost painful, he managed to clear his throat enough to speak.

    "I bet you''d be green with envy if you knew what you missed, Hermione!" he eximed, his voice muffled by the remnants of food still in his mouth.

    Hearing this cryptic statement, Hermione''s sharp mind immediately went into overdrive. She cast a suspicious nce at Harry, who remained silent, offering no exnation to satisfy her curiosity. Instead, he hunched over a steaming baked potato, focusing intently on his meal.

    Sirius, noticing the tension building in the air, decided to intervene before Hermione''s famous persistence could lead to an interrogation. He nced at Remus, who was also looking at him with undisguised curiosity.

    "It''s not that dramatic, Ron¡ª" Sirius began pursing his lips. With a sigh, he gave Remus and the two girls a brief overview of the morning''s events.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0428 Hermione and Kreacher

    0428 Hermione and Kreacher

    Sirius, noticing the tension building in the air, decided to intervene before Hermione''s famous persistence could lead to an interrogation. He nced at Remus, who was also looking at him with undisguised curiosity.

    "It''s not that dramatic, Ron¡ª" Sirius began pursing his lips. With a sigh, he gave Remus and the two girls a brief overview of the morning''s events.

    Just as Harry had anticipated, Hermione immediately frowned, with the same displeased look as Professor McGonagall catching someone misbehaving in Transfiguration ss. Ginny, on the other hand, looked at her three brothers with envy, but having missed out, she was embarrassed to ask Sirius for a simr opportunity.

    "Ludo Bagman¡ª" Remus''s eyebrows twitched slightly upon hearing the story. "I''ve heard about his reputation¡ª" he trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air.

    "Well, Ludo has his fair share of quirks," Mr. Weasley admitted, his fingers absently ying with the handle of his teacup. "There are quite a few people in the Ministry who have issues with him, and some have even gone so far as to request the Minister to dismiss him." He paused, taking a sip of his tea before continuing. "But, you have to admit, it''s hard to find a Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports with more passion than him, isn''t it?"

    Remus nodded slowly. He had heard numerous rumors about Ludo Bagman''s poor credibility. A part of him wanted to warn Harry and the others that their bets might be wasted, and Bagman''s charm often outweighed his reliability. However, out of respect for Arthur and a desire not to dampen the jovial mood of the breakfast, he decided to hold his tongue on the matter.

    "By the way¡ª" Sirius interjected, breaking the moment of silence. He reached for a slice of apple pie, and as he took a bite, savoring the sweet, cinnamon-spiced filling, he asked, "Have you seen Kreacher?"

    Remus shook his head, his eyes showing a hint of resignation. "No, when I came to the dining room, all the food was already on the table¡ª" He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "You know, Sirius, house-elves don''t typically like people of my... condition. Besides, I prevented it from inviting the Malfoys to visit earlier, so it''s probably not too thrilled to see me¡ª"

    Sirius''s face darkened at the mention of the Malfoys, "That''s exactly what I wanted to address¡ª" Sirius''s face darkened further as he shouted, "Kreacher!"

    <strong>CRACK!</strong>

    The sudden, explosive sound in the air was like a thunderp in the peaceful garden. Ron, caught mid-bite of a particrlyrge pasty, let out a strangled yelp of surprise. His eyes bulgedically as he began to choke.

    Hermione, disying reflexes that would have made Bryan proud, sprang into action. With an exasperated roll of her eyes she delivered a swift, hard p to his back. The force of the blow caused Ron to lurch forward, his eyes watering as he finally managed to cough up the piece stuck in his throat.

    As soon as she was certain that Ron was out of immediate danger, Hermione''s attention snapped to the small creature that had suddenly materialized at Sirius''s side. Her brow furrowed deeply as she took in the sight before her.

    The house-elf that appeared in the garden was clearly very old. Hermione noticed that its tennis ball-sized eyes were cloudy, as if its vision was deteriorating, and the tufts of white hair growing from its bat-like ears further confirmed her suspicion about its age.

    As it bowed to Sirius, Hermione felt a surge of sympathy and she was certain that the action was not voluntary. The elf''s movements were extremely slow, as if it might fall over at any moment.

    The poor creature wore nothing but a dirty rag wrapped around its body. But what truly rmed Hermione, causing her face to pale and her eyes to ze with righteous anger, was the potato clutched in Kreacher''s hand- it was peeled butpletely raw, and covered in insect bites.

    Hermione''s gaze darted between the pitiful potato and Sirius, her mind whirling with questions and usations. With a table full of delicious food right there, why was Sirius making this elderly house-elf eat this?

    "Kreacher was cleaning the kitchen, but came immediately when the prodigal young master called," the house-elf said in a voice that creaked like old floorboards. His hunched posture made him appear even smaller, as if he were trying to shrink away from sight. "Does the young master have any orders for Kreacher? Kreacher lives to serve the noble House of ck."

    Sirius, still harboring resentment from Narcissa''s earlier jabs, seemed equally ufortable at the sight of the cold potato in Kreacher''s oversized hands.

    Ever since Bryan had helped him and Remus bring Regulus back from the ind cave and held a funeral for him near the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts, this house-elf had been much more polite to Sirius than he remembered. However, some fundamental issues remained unchanged.

    "I want to ask you, Kreacher¡ª" Sirius began, his voice harsh with barely contained irritation. He leaned forward slightly, his grey eyes boring into the elf''s cloudy ones. "Did you invite Narcissa Malfoy to visit the tent earlier on your own initiative? I don''t recall giving such an order!"

    Kreacher sniffled, his tennis ball-sized eyes filled with confusion. Still hunched over, he tilted his head to look at Sirius. "But Miss Narcissa is not an outsider. The mistress loved Miss Narcissa and Miss Betrix the most when she was alive!"

    After a pause, Kreacher added in a low voice, "The mistress didn''t like the prodigal young master, but for the sake of Master Regulus, Kreacher reluctantly serves the young master."

    Harry and Hermione had seen this very old house-elf once before, at Regulus''s funeral. At that time, the elf had been too busy grieving to interact with them.

    But now it was clear that the differences between individual house-elves could be vast. Kreacher was nothing like Dobby.

    "You don''t need to force yourself, Kreacher¡ª" Sirius said irritably.

    Realizing that arguing with Kreacher was pointless, Sirius thought for a moment before giving him a direct order not to contact the Malfoy family, and then dismissed him.

    "Wait, Excuse me, Is your name Kreacher?" Just as Kreacher was about to disapparate, Hermione finally couldn''t contain herself any longer. She stood up from her seat, hurriedly walked around the table with two pasties in hand, and approached Kreacher with a friendly smile. "Could I trade these two pasties for the potato in your hand, Kreacher? It looks... delicious!"

    Everyone''s face was full of big question marks, not understanding what Hermione was trying to do.

    "The Mudblood is speaking to Kreacher, the Mudblood wants to curry favor with Kreacher!" Kreacher recoiled several steps, as if he had seen something filthy on Hermione''s frozen smile.

    At the table, Harry and Ron suddenly frowned. Although they had felt some sympathy for the elderly house-elf who still had to serve others, all that sympathy vanished when it called Hermione a Mudblood.

    "Don''t use that word for Hermione, apologize to her right now, Kreacher!" Sirius red furiously at Kreacher.

    "Oh, it''s alright, Sirius¡ª" Hermione quickly tried to stop him from losing his temper. "Look, this house-elf is very old, isn''t it? It''s been doing heavy work all morning and is only eating a cold, rotten potato. It might be a bit, I mean¡ª"

    "There''s no need to defend it, Hermione¡ª" Sirius said. "It knows exactly what it''s saying!"

    Faced with a direct order from Sirius, Kreacher couldn''t disobey. The magic binding him to the House of ckpelled him toply, regardless of his personal feelings. He bent down to apologize to Hermione, but it was clear he was still very unwilling, muttering curses under his breath.

    "Do you remember what happened thest time you called someone a ''Mudblood,'' Kreacher?" Sirius said, rolling his eyes at Kreacher''s grumbling. "Do you want me to do it to you too?"

    Kreacher suddenly froze, his expression bing somewhat dazed.

    "What in Merlin''s name is happening, Sirius?" Remus inquired, his brow furrowing with a mixture of concern and curiosity. His eyes darted between his old friend and the frozen house-elf, searching for some exnation. Remus knew how difficult it was to deal with this inherited ck family house-elf.

    Before he assisted in bringing Regulus back from that terrifying cave filled with Inferi, Kreacher had never shown him anything but contempt and hostility. After that incident, the elf had at least stopped cursing at him, but that was about it.

    "It''s Bryan¡ª" Sirius nced sideways at Kreacher, pursing his lips. "When Kreacher first met him, he channeled my dear old mum''s portrait to perfection. Called Bryan a ''filthy, lowborn Mudblood'' right to his face. Heh, you should know, Bryan wouldn''t tolerate his nonsense. But now, Kreacher is very fond of Bryan, isn''t that right?"

    "That powerful wizard sir helped Kreacher find Master Regulus. The young master and his friend just took advantage," Kreacher muttered, but Sirius justughed coldly.

    Perhaps Sirius''s words reminded Kreacher that the person he respected most was also a ''Mudblood.'' So, before Kreacher disappeared, he bowed slightly to Hermione and apologized in a voice only he could hear. However, he didn''t take the pie from Hermione''s hand.

    "What exactly did Professor Watson do to Kreacher?" Hermione asked, her tone carrying a hint of usation.

    Sirius chuckled, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, Hermione, you wouldn''t want to know the details," he said, waving a hand dismissively. But as he caught sight of Hermione''s increasingly stern expression, he raised an eyebrow. "What''s the matter? You look as though someone''s just told you the library''s been closed permanently."

    Hermione''s frown deepened, her voice taking on a lecturing tone. "You shouldn''t be so rude to him, Sirius. And." She paused, ncing at the spot where the house-elf had disappeared. "And he''s very old! He should retire. You should let him rest!"

    Sirius''sugh was loud and genuine this time.

    "Merlin''s beard, Hermione! You''re practically asking for his life," Sirius said, shaking his head with amusement. "House-elves don''t care about rest or retirement. They serve their wizarding families for life. Trust me, if I told Kreacher he was free now, the shock might just kill him!"

    As Sirius spoke, Harry who had been quietly observing the exchange suddenly chimed in.

    "I used to know a house-elf called Dobby, He served the Malfoy family, but he absolutely loathed them. All he wanted was to be free. In the end, he managed to gain his freedom."

    Sirius turned to face Harry as a genuine surprised expression appeared on his face.

    "Is that so?" Sirius pondered, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose there are oddballs in every race. But Harry you have to understand that this Dobby of yours was a rare case indeed. If you knew more about house-elves as a whole, you''d see I''m not pulling your leg here."

    Hermione, however, was not to be dissuaded. Her eyes shed with indignation as she pressed on, her voice filled with righteous anger.

    "But Sirius, don''t you see how absurd this is? All of this food" ¨C she gestured at the full table ¨C es from Kreacher''s hard work, and yet he''s reduced to eating rotten potatoes! Unless..." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Unless you''ve explicitly ordered him not to touch our food, or you''re not paying him a fair wage!"

    The word ''pay'' seemed to trigger a ripple of amusement through the room. It wasn''t just Sirius whoughed this time; almost the entire Weasley family joined in, their chuckles filling the air. Sirius, wiping a tear ofughter from his eye, didn''t bother to point out the fundamental misunderstanding in Hermione''s assumption. Instead, he said, "When you get back to Hogwarts, Hermione, I suggest you pay a visit to the library. Look up some information about house-elves. Then you''ll understand what makes Kreacher and his kind tick."

    As the debate about house-elf welfare continued in the background, the excitement for the uing Quidditch World Cup began to build.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0429 Pre-match Festivities

    0429 Pre-match Festivities

    Around noon, Bill, Charlie, and Percy Weasley apparated to the campsite with loud cracks, adding to the growing crowd. Ron immediately cornered Charlie to inquire about the wisdom of his bet with Ludo Bagman. Upon receiving his older brother''s confident affirmation, Ron''s entire face lit up, as if he was already fantasizing about thevish life he could lead after winning those hundreds of Galleons.

    As the afternoon wore on, a palpable sense of excitement spread over the campsite like an invisible, energizing mist. The very air seemed to vibrate with anticipation, despite the stillness of the summer day. When night finally fell, draping the thousands of waiting wizards in a velvet cloak of darkness, thest trace of pretense evaporated into the cool evening air.

    The Ministry of Magic, seemingly bowing to the inevitable tide of enthusiasm, appeared to have given up on enforcing the Statute of Secrecy. Obvious signs of magic use began popping up everywhere, from floatingnterns to enchanted tents that looked like miniature pces.

    Mr. Weasley could only sigh in resigned exasperation at this tant disregard for magical secrecy. He was already mentally preparing himself for at least two weeks of endless overtime work after the World Cup, dealing with the inevitable Muggle sightings and memory modifications that would be required.

    While the adults continued their energetic discussions within the magically expanded tent, Harry and his friends could no longer contain their excitement. They ventured out into the bustling crowd, their eyes wide with wonder at the magical spectacle unfolding around them.

    Every few steps, peddlers would materialize out of thin air with loud pops, their arms overloaded with trays or pushing carts filled with a variety of bizarre and fascinating trinkets.

    Glowing rosette badges caught Harry''s eye immediately. They came in two colors ¨C a vibrant emerald green for Irnd and a deep red for Bulgaria. These weren''t ordinary badges, though. As Harry watched, he realized they were shouting the names of the yers in shrill, excitable voices that somehow managed to be heard over the general ruckus of the crowd.

    Towering green hats, their brims wider than car tires, were decorated with dancing shamrocks that fluttered and swayed in a non-existent breeze. Nearby, a vendor was selling Bulgarian scarves emzoned with fierce lions that emitted earth-shaking roars at random intervals, causing nearby witches and wizards to jump in surprise.

    gs of both countries hung from many of the tents and were being waved enthusiastically by-passing supporters. As they fluttered, Harry could hear parts of the respective national anthems ying, as if tiny orchestras were hidden within the fabric. The music blended and shed in the air, creating a chaotic but oddly festive atmosphere.

    One cart that drew particr attention was filled with miniature Firebolts. These tiny marvels actually flew, zipping around their delighted owners'' heads or performingplex aerobatic maneuvers in midair. Harry watched, mesmerized, as a young witch guided her miniature Firebolt through a series of loop-the-loops with skillful movements of her wand.

    Perhaps the most intriguing items on offer were the collectible figurines of famous yers. Standing no taller than a chocte frog card, these miniature athletes marched across their owner''s palms with an air of unmistakable smugness.

    As they navigated through the sea of magical novelties and excited fans, Harry found himself repeatedly bumping into familiar faces from Hogwarts. Oliver Wood, his former Quidditch captain, greeted him from outside a luxurious tent decorated with the Puddlemere United team colors.

    "Harry! Over here!" Oliver called, waving enthusiastically. As Harry approached, he could see that Oliver''s face was flushed with excitement, his Scottish ent was even thicker than usual. "Can you believe it? I''ve been recruited as a reserve yer for Puddlemere United! Me, ying professional Quidditch!"

    Harry congratted his former captain warmly, genuinely happy for Oliver''s sess. As they chatted about the uing match and Oliver''s new career, Harry''s attention was momentarily caught by a sh of long, dark hair in the crowd.

    It was Cho Chang, the pretty Ravenw Seeker who had always made Harry''s stomach do backflips. She spotted him as she emerged from a nearby tent, her almond-shaped eyes lighting up with recognition as she raised her hand in a friendly wave.

    Harry felt his cheeks grow warm, and he raised his own hand to wave back. But before he could evenplete the gesture, the surging crowd seemed to swallow Cho up, pushing her out of sight. Harry craned his neck, trying to catch another glimpse of her, but the sea of witches and wizards had closed in, leaving no trace of the Ravenw girl.

    Feeling a mix of disappointment and embarrassment, Harry turned back to his friends, only to find that Ron and Hermione had wandered a short distance away, examining the products of another peddler.

    As Harry moved to join them, his attention was caught by a cart piled high with what looked like brass binocrs. However, these were unlike any binocrs Harry had ever seen before. They were decorated with all manner of knobs, dials, and tiny spinning wheels that glinted in the light from nearby magicalnterns.

    "Feast your eyes on these beauties!" the peddler eximed as Harry approached, his voice carrying a hint of a cockney ent. "Omniocrs, they are. Latest in magical spectator technology!"

    Harry picked up a pair, turning them over in his hands. The brass was cool to the touch, and he could feel the thrum of magic emanating from the device. "What do they do?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

    The wizard''s eyes lit up at the question. "Oh, these little marvels do it all, my boy! You can rey the action, slow everything down to a snail''s pace if you like. And if you''re new to Quidditch or just want to brush up on your knowledge, they''ll even sh up a y-by-y breakdown. It''s like having your very ownmentator right there in your hands!"

    Harry''s green eyes widened with excitement. He nced at Ron, who was eyeing the Omniocrs with unconcealed longing, his fingers absently toying with the dancing shamrock on his hat.

    "How much?" Harry asked, already reaching for his money pouch.

    "A bargain at ten Galleons each," the peddler replied promptly, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

    Ron''s face fell at the price, and he muttered under his breath, "Blimey, I wish I hadn''t bought this ruddy hat now."

    Harry, however, had already made up his mind. "We''ll take three pairs," he said firmly, counting out the golden coins.

    Ron''s ears turned pink as he tried to refuse. "No, Harry, you don''t have to¡ª"

    But Harry cut him off with a grin. "Consider it a loan, mate. When we win that money from Ludo Bagman, you can pay me back. Deal?"

    A slow smile spread across Ron''s freckled face as he considered this. "Yeah, alright. Fair enough," he agreed, taking the Omniocrs Harry handed him. His eyes shone with excitement as he began fiddling with the various knobs and dials, already imagining the piles of gold they''d soon be collecting from Bagman.

    "Thanks, Harry," Hermione said softly, epting her pair with a grateful smile. The gesture seemed to have lifted her spirits, pushing aside her earlier gloom over Kreacher''s situation. She peered through the Omniocrs, gasping in delight at whatever she saw. "Oh, these are marvelous! But you know what would make them even better? A match program! I think I saw a vendor selling them just over there¡ª"

    And with that, Hermione darted off into the crowd, her bushy hair bouncing as she navigated through the horde of excited Quidditch fans.

    The night sky above was deepening to a rich, velvety ck, but the darkness was repeatedly shattered by brilliant bursts of magical fireworks shooting up from the nearby forest. Each explosion painted the sky with dazzling colors and fantastical shapes ¨C miniature dragons that roared silently as they soared through the air, shimmering phoenixes that burst into me and were reborn in showers of golden sparks, and intricately patterned Celtic knots that spun and danced before fading away.

    Harry felt a sense of urgency building within him. They needed to get back to the tent, to fetch Sirius and Lupin so they could hurry to the stadium. He didn''t want to miss a single moment of his first Quidditch World Cup final.

    While Hermione was still engaged in what appeared to be intense haggling with a vendor over the price of match programs, Harry decided to take a closer look at the magical fireworks disy. He raised his new Omniocrs to his eyes, marveling at the crisp, magnified view they provided. The dials and knobs allowed him to zoom in on individual sparks, slow down the explosions to see every detail of their formation, and even rey particrly impressive bursts.

    As he watched a spectacr Catherine wheel of emerald and gold sparks unfurl across the night sky, Harry suddenly felt a chill run down his spine. It was an unsettling sensation¨C the feeling of being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he felt his muscles tense instinctively.

    Slowly, Harry lowered the Omniocrs from his eyes. The bustling, noisy campsite seemed to fade into the background as he scanned his surroundings, his Seeker''s keen eyes darted from face to face in the crowd. Years of Quidditch had honed his ability to spot small details in chaotic environments.

    It didn''t take long for Harry to pinpoint the origin of his unease. About two hundred feet to his right, standing unnaturally still amidst the swirling crowd, was a woman. The sea of people seemed to part around her, as if subconsciously giving her a wide berth. She was wearing a cream-colored dress that seemed to shimmer slightly in the flickering light of the magicalnterns.

    Harry squinted, trying to make out her features, but the distance and the constantly moving crowd made it difficult. Despite this, there was something eerily familiar about her.

    Suddenly remembering the Omniocrs in his hands, Harry quickly raised them to his eyes once more. His fingers fumbled with the focus dial as he tried to zoom in on the mysterious woman''s face. But in that brief moment when his eyes had left her, she had vanished. Harry moved the Omniocrs frantically across the spot where she had been standing, but there was no trace of the cream-colored dress or its wearer.

    "What''s wrong, Harry?" Hermione''s voice cut through his concentration. She had returned, her arms now filled with three thick, glossy programs. Her brow was furrowed with concern as she followed Harry''s gaze. "Did you see someone from Hogwarts?"

    Harry lowered the Omniocrs slowly, his mind racing. Should he tell Hermione about the strange woman? Would she think he was being paranoid? After all, it was probably nothing ¨C just another witch enjoying the pre-match festivities. And yet, that nagging feeling of familiarity, coupled with the sudden disappearance, left him uneasy.

    "No," Harry said finally, his expression a mixture of confusion and seriousness. "Well, maybe. There was someone... she seemed familiar, but I didn''t get a good look at her face. She was there one moment and gone the next."

    Hermione opened her mouth, likely to ask more questions, but before she could speak, Ron''s excited voice cut through the air.

    "Oi, Harry! Hermione!" Ron called; his face flushed with excitement as he pushed his way back through the crowd towards them. He was practically bouncing on his toes. "I just saw Dad and the others leaving the tent. Come on, they must be heading to the stadium!"

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    The woman who had fleetingly appeared in Harry''s vision continued to linger in his mind. As they made their way through the dense, verdant forest towards the stadium, Harry remained silent, pondering where he had seen this familiar woman before. He felt as if there was a thin barrier obscuring his memories, separating him from the truth.

    Mr. Weasley led their group through the winding forest path. The journeysted a good twenty minutes, as they finally emerged from the trees, Harry''s preupation with the mysterious woman was abruptly shattered by the awe-inspiring sight that greeted them.

    Lifting his gaze skyward, Harry found himself in the shadow of a massive stadium. The structure was so vast, so utterly gigantic, that even straining his eyes to their limit, he could only take in a fraction of the grand, shimmering golden walls that encircled the arena. Harry''s mind spun as he tried to process the fact that the space within couldfortably house ten majestic cathedrals, with room to spare.

    A chorus of gasps and exmations of wonder erupted from the group as they collectively gaped at the architectural marvel before them. Only Mr. Weasley, who had undoubtedly seen the stadium before, maintained hisposure, though a proud smile appeared across his lips as he observed their astonished reactions.

    "This magnificent structure can amodate a staggering one hundred thousand spectators," Mr. Weasley announced, his chest swelling with pride. "Hundreds of Ministry employees have poured their hearts and souls into this project for most of the year!"

    Sirius, his dark eyes glittering with genuine admiration, let out a low whistle. "By Merlin''s beard, it''s truly remarkable!" he eximed, his voice carrying a note of sincere appreciation. "I daresay the British Ministry of Magic will make quite the impression on the international stage this time, Arthur. This is a feat to be proud of!"

    Mr. Weasley''s face lit up at Sirius''s praise, a warm glow of satisfaction spreading across his features. Despite the often-thankless nature of his work and theck of recognition he received at the Ministry, it was clear that Mr. Weasley still harbored a deep-seated affection for the ce where he had dedicated the majority of his professional life. With renewed vigor, he proudly led the way towards the ticket checkpoint, pausing frequently to exchange greetings with every Ministry official he recognized along the path.

    As they approached the entrance, a witch dressed in Ministry robes scrutinized their tickets with a practiced eye. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise as she registered the details.

    "First-ss tickets!" she eximed. "Top box ess! You''ll want to head straight upstairs, Arthur ¨C as high as you can go!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0430 Grandness

    0430 Grandness

    Even Harry, Hermione, and the others, despite their diligence in physical education sses, were out of breath by the time they reached the summit. Their legs burned, and their lungs cried out for air. The height was truly staggering, rivaling that of a modest mountain. Peering down from their vantage point, they saw waves of wizards flooding into the stadium, moving like a colony of migrating ants.

    In that moment, even Sirius felt a twinge of gratitude towards Ludo Bagman for securing them such important seats.

    Their designated area was apact box directly opposite the gleaming golden goalposts¡ª this was the best vantage point that even the deepest Gringotts vault couldn''t purchase.

    Given the size of their group, Mr. Weasley gently escorted the younger members to quickly enter the box and find their seats. The space was already upied by a group of individuals who were mostly key figures from the Ministry or the wider wizarding world. Mr. Weasley moved through the crowd shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries, taking every opportunity to introduce an eager Percy to his extensivework of acquaintances.

    Harry trailed behind Sirius; his mind still partly preupied with the mysterious woman from before. He was on the verge of entering the box when he suddenly realized¨C Remus, who was with them throughout their journey had inexplicably vanished.

    "Sirius," Harry called out, his voice raised to be heard over the sound of the excited crowd. He tugged on Sirius''s sleeve just as he was about to step into the box. "Where''s Remus? He was right behind us earlier, but I can''t see him anywhere."

    "Oh, I forgot to tell you!" Sirius turned to face Harry withplex expression and a hint of shame. "Remus... well, he can''t sit with us up here. You see, Harry, at an event of this size, with so many wizards from all corners of the world in attendance, the Ministry is... shall we say, overly cautious. They want to ensure everything runs smoothly, without any...plications."

    It took Harry a moment to understand what Sirius meant but when they did, Harry''s face contorted with a mixture of shock and indignation, but he didn''t know how to defend Remus. And Only now did he realize how difficult it was for his father''s other friend to survive in the wizarding world, and he understood why Remus had invested in Fred and George''s venture.

    With a heavy heart and a mind clouded by conflicting emotions, Harry stepped into the box. His gaze swept over Mr. Weasley, who was still engrossed in hisworking efforts, and Harry abandoned any notion of voicing his protests to him.

    His eyes then sought out Hermione and Ron; Hermione was conversing with Ginny, while Ron, along with Fred and George, had their attentionpletely captivated by the enormous magical scoreboard that hovered in the air like a shimmering mirage. Reluctantly, Harry also abandoned the idea of sharing his frustrations about the Ministry''s treatment of Remus with his best friends.

    As his eyes continued to roam the dimly lit box, Harry''s attention was suddenly drawn to a tiny figure huddled in thest row. The small creature''s legs were so short that they stuck outically in front of its chair, reminding Harry of a child''s doll perched on adult furniture. It wore a loose-fitting robe that seemed to swallow its tiny frame, and its face was buried deep within its hands. But it was the long, bat-like ears that caught Harry''s attention, resembling those of a house-elf he had encountered in the past.

    "Dobby?" Harry called out in disbelief.

    The house-elf, startled by the sudden address, slowly lowered its hands from its face. As its face came into view, Harry immediately realized his mistake ¨C this was not the eager, bright-eyed Dobby he remembered.

    "Oh, I''m terribly sorry¡ª" Harry quickly apologized, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. He nodded apologetically towards the unknown house-elf, exining, "I mistook you for someone else. Um, Dobby ¨C he''s another house-elf I know."

    To Harry''s surprise, the house-elf''srge, tennis-ball-sized eyes lit up with recognition. "But I knows Dobby too, sir!" the creature squeaked, its high-pitched voice carrying a note of excitement. The elf hadn''tpletely lowered its hands, still shielding its eyes as if the light in the box was too harsh for its sensitive vision. "My name is Winky, sir¡ªand you, sir¡ª"

    As Winky''s gaze traveled upwards, finally settling on Harry''s forehead, her eyes ¨C so different from Dobby''s in their shape and hue ¨C widened to an almostical degree.

    The lightning bolt scar, Harry''s most ''distinguishing'' feature, seemed to have the same effect on house-elves as it did on humans.

    "You is Harry Potter!" Winky eximed, her voice a mixture of awe and reverence.

    Harry, having faced this exact scenario countless times throughout the day, managed to maintain hisposure and calmly nodded towards her.

    "Hello, Winky. It''s nice to meet you. You mentioned you know Dobby? Did you work together at some point?"

    Winky drew herself up with pride, her chest puffing out slightly despite her little stature.

    "Winky serves Master Barty Crouch, sir!" she said, her voice filled with unmistakable reverence for her master. However, her tone shifted as she continued, "And Dobby¡ªbegging your pardon, sir¡ªbut you set Dobby free, and I''m afraid... well, I''m afraid that hasn''t done him much good, sir."

    Harry''s brow furrowed in confusion and concern. "Why not?" he asked, genuinely surprised by this information. "What''s wrong with Dobby? Is he alright?"

    Winky''srge eyes grew sad, and she shook her head slowly. "Freedom''s going to Dobby''s head, sir," she exined, her voice heavy with what sounded like a mixture of pity and disapproval. "He''s getting ideas above his station, sir. Can''t get another position, sir. No respectable wizarding family will hire a house-elf who wants wages and holidays!"

    Harry''s mind whirled at this information. His gaze instinctively flicked towards Hermione, who was still chatting with Ginny near the railing. He could already imagine her passionate reaction to such news.

    Looking back at Winky, Harry''s frown deepened. "Wait a moment," he said slowly, trying to process this new information, "are you saying that house-elves don''t typically get paid or have holidays?"

    "Of course not, sir!" she squeaked earnestly, as if exining a basic concept in mathematics. "House-elves belongs entirely to their masters. We must obey our master''s orders unconditionally, without question or hesitation. Take Winky, for instance, Harry Potter, sir¡ª"

    She paused, creating a small gap between her hands that were still partially covering her face, and nced nervously towards the edge of the box. A visible shudder ran through her tiny body, and she let out a small gasp before continuing. "I has a terrible fear of heights, sir, but Master sent me to the top box, so here I came, sir¡ª"

    Harry''s mindtched onto a crucial detail ¨C Barty Crouch. The name stirred a memory; this was Percy''s boss, the high-ranking Ministry official. But more importantly, a dimmer recollection surfaced ¨C Barty Crouch was the man responsible for sending Sirius to Azkaban fourteen years ago without a trial.

    A spark of indignation red in Harry''s chest.

    "If he knew you were afraid of heights, why would he send you up here?"

    Winky''s eyes widened in rm at Harry''s tone. "Master¡ªMaster wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter, sir. He''s very busy," she exined hastily, tilting her head to indicate the empty seat beside her. "Winky wishes she could go back to Master''s tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she''s told. Winky is a good house-elf."

    She cast another fearful nce towards the edge of the box, her entire body trembled slightly, before quickly covering her eyespletely once more.

    Harry opened his mouth, intending to inquire further about Dobby''s current situation and the apparentlyplex dynamics of house-elf employment, but his words were cut short by a suddenmotion at the entrance to the box. A new group of people had arrived, led by none other than Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic himself.

    Fudge''s entrance had an immediate and dramatic effect on the atmosphere within the box, like a stone thrown into a previously calm pond. The people who had been conversing with Mr. Weasley stood up one after another, approaching Fudge with fawning expressions.

    With Mr. Weasley''s assistance, Percy also managed to navigate through the mass of supporters and bootlickers finally reaching Fudge''s side. In his excitement and nervousness, Percy bowed so low and so quickly that he identally smashed his horn-rimmed sses against the floor.

    Winky clearly overwhelmed by the presence of such important figures in the wizarding world, seemed to shrink even further into herself. She turned sideways in her chair, practically lying across the armrest of the seat she had diligently saved for Mr. Crouch, not daring to look at them.

    "Oh ho ho, Harry, my boy!"

    Fudge''s jolly voice cut through the excited chatter filling the box. Politicians, it seemed, possessed an ability to spot potential photo opportunities, and Fudge''s keen gaze pierced through the crowd tond straight on Harry, who was still standing at the back of the box. With a broad smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes, Fudge waved enthusiastically at Harry. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here!"

    Caught in the spotlight of the Minister''s attention, Harry found himself unable to continue his conversation with Winky. With a mixture of reluctance and resignation, he made his way from the back of the box to the front, where Fudge was waiting for him with his hand outstretched in greeting.

    As Harry approached, Fudge''s chubby fingers closed around his hand in an overly firm handshake. Without releasing Harry''s hand, Fudge turned slightly, using his free arm to gesture towards a wizard who had entered the box alongside him. This new figure was dressed in ck velvet robes trimmed with intricate gold embroidery that spoke of both wealth and status.

    "Harry," Fudge began, his voice carrying a note of barely concealed pride, "allow me to introduce you to a very distinguished guest. This is the Bulgarian Minister for Magic."

    To Harry''s surprise and slight difort, he discovered that even someone as important as a foreign Minister for Magic was not immune to the fascination his scar seemed to have in the wizarding world.

    As soon as Fudge finished his introduction, the Bulgarian Minister''s eyes locked onto Harry''s forehead, widening with recognition and excitement. Without further ado, the foreign minister began to gesture energetically towards Harry''s scar, as a stream of enthusiastic but entirely iprehensible words poured from his mouth.

    Fudge let out a weary sigh, his earlier enthusiasm noticeably diminished. "Well, it seems he''s finally understood something¡ª" he muttered to Harry in a soft voice, his exasperation evident. "We''ve been battling this stednguage barrier all evening. I''ve been reduced to miming everything like some sort of street performer. This sort of thing is really more Barty''s forte. Ah, speaking of which¡ª" Fudge''s gaze flicked towards the back of the box, where Winky still trembled in her seat. "I see his house-elf has saved him a seat. How thoughtful. These Bulgarians have been trying to cadge all the best ces¡ª ah¡ª"

    Fudge''s words trailed off abruptly, his attention suddenly diverted. Though he was still facing Harry, his bodynguage shifted subtly, indicating that he had sensed someone approaching from behind. With the practiced ease of a seasoned politician, Fudge seamlessly changed his demeanor, his voice taking on a light, jovial tone as he greeted the neer.

    "Lucius!" Fudge eximed, turning to face the approaching figure. "What a pleasure to see you here!"

    Lucius Malfoy, along with Draco and Narcissa, whom Harry had encountered earlier that morning, appeared at the entrance of the box. Sirius''s expression changed slightly. He jumped over a row of chairs to stand beside Harry, cing a hand on his shoulder while coldly staring at the Malfoy family.

    "Ah, Cornelius¡ª" Malfoy strode into the box, approaching the Minister of Magic. "I don''t believe you''ve had the pleasure of meeting my wife, Narcissa, or our son, Draco."

    Fudge stered a broad smile across his face. His bowler hat bobbed as he nodded enthusiastically greeted Narcissa and Draco, then turning back to Lucius, Fudge''s brow furrowed slightly. "You''re quitete, Lucius. Did something hold you up?"

    "Your perception is as keen as ever, Minister. We did encounter a... slight situation¡ª" Lucius smiled smoothly, though his cold grey eyes held no warmth. His gaze swept the box, lingering for a moment on Sirius and Harry, filling with a contempt so palpable it seemed to lower the temperature in the already chilly box.

    "What happened?" Fudge asked with concern.

    Lucius''s voice dropped to a theatrical whisper, perfectly adjusted to carry to every eager ear in the box.

    "It wasn''t me, you understand, but Narcissa and Draco. This morning, at the campsite, they had a most rming encounter with a werewolf." He paused, allowing his words to sink in, savoring the shocked gasps that rippled through the gathered witches and wizards. "Upon learning of this, I was, naturally, deeply concerned about their psychological well-being. I took the liberty of escorting them to St. Mungo''s for a thorough mental evaluation."

    <em>''Lies!''</em>

    The word zed through Harry''s mind like wildfire. He longed to shout it, to expose Lucius Malfoy''s deceit to everyone present. But Sirius''s grip on his shoulder tightened preventing him from reacting.

    Lucius''s words indeed shocked Fudge considerably. However, noticing that the Bulgarian Minister of Magic beside him also seemed deeply troubled by Lucius''s words, Fudge attempted to regain control of the situation. He let out augh that sounded more like a wheezy cough as he said, "Oh, ha ha, what a droll little jest, Lucius. Werewolves are under the strictest control, I assure you and after Bryan executed Fenrir Greyback and his pack of bloodthirsty beasts, I''d like to see any werewolf in Britain dare to cause even the slightest disturbance."

    Fudge''s gaze darted around the box, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face as he continued, "Speaking of which¡ªBryan, like yourself, Lucius, made a rather generous donation to St. Mungo''s. I had Amelia send him an invitation to join us, but curiously, the several owls we dispatched were unable to locate him." His eyesnded on Sirius, and his tone became noticeably cooler. "Sirius?"

    It was clear that Fudge had recognized Sirius earlier but had deliberately ignored him, knowing their mutual dislike for each other. Now, however, the mention of Bryan forced him to address the former prisoner. "Do you happen to know of Bryan''s whereabouts? If he''s here to watch the match, we really ought to extend an invitation for him to join us. It would be a shame if he were stuck with anything less than a top-tier ticket."

    Harry keenly observed that when Fudge mentioned Professor Watson, Draco''s father, Lucius Malfoy, appeared unusually tense. It was only after Sirius informed Fudge that Professor Watson had not attended the match that some color returned to his face.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0431 Charm

    0431 Charm

    Harry keenly observed that when Fudge mentioned Professor Watson, Draco''s father, Lucius Malfoy, appeared unusually tense. It was only after Sirius informed Fudge that Professor Watson had not attended the match that some color returned to his face.

    Hermione and Ron, unable to squeeze through the crowd of important wizards, hade as close as they could. They craned their necks anxiously, trying to catch every word of the conversation, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.

    "Oh, my¡ª" Fudge''s voice cut through the tension, his political instincts kicking in as he realized he had inadvertently drawn a crowd. He showed a gentle smile to the gathered witches and wizards, his tone jovial as he announced, "The match is about to begin. Everyone, please return to your seats."

    As the crowd began to disperse, Harry and Sirius found were standing on the steps waiting for those in front to clear a path. Draco brushed past Harry, his grey eyes, so like his father''s, glittering with malice as he shot Harry a contemptuous re. Harry, his blood boiling, returned the look with equal venom.

    Narcissa indifferently glided past ignoring her ''disgraced'' rtives. But it was Lucius who caught Harry''s attention. As he passed Sirius, he hesitated for a fraction of a second, his gaze sweeping over Sirius''s face with an intensity that made Harry''s skin crawl. Lucius''s eyes were deep pools of unreadable emotion as he murmured, just loud enough for Sirius and Harry to hear,

    "Your assessment of the Malfoy family was quite... colorful. I''ve taken note of it¡ª"

    Sirius''s brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, Lucius had already walked towards his seat.

    "Sirius¡ª" Harry''s voice was thick with worry. It was clear that Draco''s father must have heard about Sirius''s remarks about the Malfoy family earlier this morning. Harry knew all too well the dangers of underestimating Lucius Malfoy. The man was far more powerful and cunning than his son. In their second year, to get back at Mr. Weasley, he had even slipped one of Voldemort''s relics into Ginny''s bag, using the Chamber of Secrets incident and the attacks on students to nearly drive Dumbledore out of Hogwarts.

    "It''s nothing, Harry¡ª" Sirius''s dismissive snort did little to alleviate Harry''s fears. "That sort can''t harm me."

    When Harry finally managed to rejoin Hermione and Ron, he wasted no time in recounting Lucius''s veiled threat. To his surprise, neither of his friends seemed particrly worried by the news.

    "You''re giving that git too much credit, Harry¡ª" Ron''s tone mirrored Sirius''s earlier dismissal, tinged with a hint of ridicule. "He''s been trying to get at my dad for years, and he''s never managed it. If you ask me, Lucius Malfoy''s just like his son¡ªall bark and no bite, with not a brain cell between them."

    Hermione also added her own reassurances. "He wouldn''t dare try anything rash, Harry¡ª" Her brown eyes were serious as she continued, "Neither Professor Dumbledore nor Professor Watson would stand idly by while Lucius Malfoy causes trouble for Sirius."

    The mention of those two wizards'' names eased Harry''s mind considerably. Indeed, even if Lucius Malfoy harbored ill intentions towards Sirius, they would surely wither under the watchful gaze of Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson.

    Sensing the need for a change of subject, Hermione''s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Harry, I couldn''t help but notice you chatting with a house-elf earlier. Do you know her?"

    "Her name is Winky¡ª" He recounted his conversation with the winky in detail, watching as Hermione''s expression shifted from curiosity to outrage at Barty Crouch''s irresponsible behavior. Ron, however, seemed unable to muster much empathy for the house-elf''s predicament, his attention was instead drawn to the empty seat that should have been upied by Crouch.

    "But Barty Crouch hasn''t shown up yet, has he?" Ron pondered as his freckled face scrunched in confusion. "The match is about to kick off, isn''t it?"

    As if summoned by Ron''s words, Ludo Bagman burst into the box, his round face gleaming with excitement and sweat. "Everyone ready?" he roared; his enthusiasm infectious. His eyes, bright with anticipation, swept the box before settling on Fudge. "Minister ¡ª ready to go?"

    "Ready when you are, Ludo," Fudge replied, his earlier unease forgotten in the face of the impending spectacle.

    Ludo''s magically amplified voice thundered through the packed stadium, causing the very air to vibrate with its intensity: "Ladies and gentlemen, wee to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

    The stadium erupted with apuse and cheers. Thousands of gs waved, apanied by their national anthems. The atmosphere was electric, charged with excitement. Whatever people had been thinking or discussing before, the moment Ludo''s voice rang out, only one word upied their minds: ''Quidditch!''

    "And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce... the Bulgarian National Team mascots!"

    The right side of the stands, a solid block of scarlet-d supporters, roared its approval.

    "Oh, this is always worth watching!" Mr. Weasley''s face was zing with childlike excitement as he leaned forward, exining to the youngsters, "Each team brings their own mascots. I wonder what they''ve¡ª Oh my!"

    Mr. Weasley''s exmation was apanied by a sudden movement as he lurched forward, hastily removing his sses and wiping them furiously on his robes, as if certain his eyes were deceiving him.

    "Ve!"

    Harry puzzled by Mr. Weasley''s reaction asked. "What''s Vee--"

    But his words died in his throat as a hundred ve glided onto the field, answering his unfinished question in the most spectacr fashion imaginable. Ve, Harry realized with a start, were women ¡ª but to call them just women seemed an insult to their otherworldly beauty. They were, without a doubt, the most breathtakingly beautiful creatures Harry had everid eyes upon. Their skin seemed to glow with light, shimmering like moonlight on still water. Their hair, a cascade of white-gold, fanned out behind them as if caught in an invisible breeze, each strand seeming to capture and reflect the stadium lights in a hypnotic dance.

    As the music began, All thoughts of Quidditch, of the Malfoys, of anything beyond the ve''s mesmerizing dance fled from Harry''s mind. He was drifting in a sea of contentment, anchored only by the rhythmic movements of these otherworldly beings.

    The ve''s dance quickened, their movements bing more intricate and alluring with each passing second. Wild, half-formed thoughts began to swirl through Harry''s dazed mind, each more oundish than thest. An overwhelming desire to do something impressive, something spectacr, gripped him. The idea of leaping from the box into the stadium below suddenly seemed not just appealing, but necessary.

    Yet even as he contemted all this, a small voice in the back of his mind wondered if it was impressive enough, if there wasn''t something even more daring, he could attempt to capture the ve''s attention.

    "Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione''s voice seemed toe from a great distance, muffled and distorted as if traveling through water.

    The music stopped abruptly. Harry blinked rapidly, disoriented. As his surroundings came back into focus, he realized with a jolt that he was standing with one leg hoisted over the wall of the box, positioned to vault over the edge. Beside him, Ron was frozen mid-action, as if about to perform a spectacr dive.

    "Tsk, tsk." The sound of tongue clicking in amused disapproval cut through Harry''s embarrassment.

    ncing around, Harry saw that most of the men in the box had simr sheepish expressions, all looking as if they had just emerged from a particrly vivid daydream. Only a handful of adult wizards seemed to have maintained theirposure throughout the ve''s performance.

    Among them was Sirius whose nerves were hardened by encounters with dementors. His lips curved into a knowing smile as he looked at Harry and the Weasley children, his voice was tinged with nostalgia and a hint of teasing, "Ah, youth...."

    Harry felt relieved that it was so dark, as his face was burning with embarrassment. Meanwhile, just a few feet away, Mr. Weasley was smiling as he prevented Ron from tearing off his shamrock hat in his enthusiasm. At the same time, Mr. Weasley was carefully extricating his own leg from gap between the railings.

    The atmosphere in the stadium shifted palpably as the Irish team''s mascots began their grand entrance onto the field. A dazzling shower of golden coins suddenly rained down from above, catching the light and creating a mesmerizing spectacle that pushed the already electric atmosphere to new, dizzying heights. The crowd''s roar swelled to a deafening climax.

    Ron let out a whoop of delight as he darted around the box with the agility of a Niffler on the scent of treasure. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he gathered up the few coins that had fallen into their seating area. Clutching his handful of unexpected wealth, Ron paused, his brow furrowing slightly as he seemed to wrestle with an internal dilemma. After a moment''s hesitation, his face cleared, and with a generous grin, he extended his hand towards Harry, offering him the glittering coins.

    "Now we''re even, mate!" Ron eximed, his voice brimming with a happiness. "And listen, if we win our bet, we''ll split the winnings right down the middle, okay, Harry?"

    The pre-game shows put on by both teams were spectacr. But now, as thest echoes of the performances faded away, came the moment everyone had been waiting for with bated breath. An expectant silence fell over the crowd. Harry also held his breath, his emerald green eyes shining brightly in the dim light.

    Suddenly, the magically amplified voice of Ludo Bagman boomed throughout the stadium, causing Harry''s heart to leap into his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen," Bagman''s voice rang out, tinged with barely contained excitement, "please give a thunderous wee to... the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team!"

    A brief pause allowed the tension to build to an almost unbearable level before Bagman continued, his voice rising with each name he called. "I give you - Dimitrov!" The name was met with a roar from the crowd. "Ivanova!" Another cheer. "Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov!"

    With each name, a scarlet-d figure on a broomstick exploded into the stadium from an entrance far below, moving so fast they like crimson blurs streaking across the night sky. The speed and precision of their entrance left Harry awestruck, as his eyes were struggling to follow their movements.

    "And finally," Ludo''s voice rang out once more, reaching a fever pitch of excitement, "KRUM!"

    The response from the crowd was earth-shattering. The cheers and screams of almost sted the roof off the stadium. Beside him, Ron was shouting himself hoarse as he witnessed his idol in the flesh. He was so caught up in the moment that hepletely failed to notice Hermione''s disapproving nce.

    "Is all this really necessary?" Hermioneined, her voice barely audible over the noise. "He''s just a Quidditch yer!"

    Sirius, overhearing herint, leaned in with a wink. "You don''t understand boys, Hermione,"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0432 The Game begins (Bonus Chapter)

    0432 The Game begins (Bonus Chapter)

    Harry''s eyes were glued to Krum as the Bulgarian Seeker made his entrance. The yer who was driving Ron to such heights of frenzy was dark and thin, with sallow skin. Hisrge, hooked nose and thick ck eyebrows gave him the appearance of an oversized Eagle. It was difficult for Harry to ept the fact that this fierce-lookingpetitor was just eighteen years old, just a few years older than himself.

    Before the crowd had even begun to settle, Bagman''s voice rang out once more, somehow managing to inject even more enthusiasm into his announcement. "And now,dies and gentlemen, please wee... the Irish National Quidditch Team!

    <strong>Presenting -</strong> Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaand - Lynch!"

    Seven green blurs swept onto the field. Harry twisted a dial on the side of his Omniocrs, slowing down their movements to a more manageable speed. With the enhanced view, he could clearly read the word ''Firebolt'' emzoned on each of their top-of-the-line racing brooms, and make out their names, embroidered in shimmering silver thread on the backs of their emerald robes.

    The anticipation in the stadium reached a fever pitch as Hassan Mostafa, the renowned chairman of the International Association of Quidditch, made his entrance onto the field. He was a small, skinny wizard wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium. His presence signaled that the match was just few moments away from beginning.

    As the yers took their positions, Harry felt a surge of excitement unlike anything he had ever experienced. Despite being the Seeker for the Gryffindor team at Hogwarts and having been through many tough games, he suddenly realized just how vast the gulf was between the Hogwarts House Cup and professional Quidditch. This was the World Cup final, the pinnacle of the sport, and he was about to witness it firsthand.

    From the moment the whistle blew, it was clear that this match was in a league of its own. The yers moved with a speed that was almost beyond belief. The Quaffle changed hands so rapidly that Bagman, despite his best efforts, could barely keep up with announcing the yers'' names.

    Within minutes of the start, Irnd had already broken through Bulgaria''s supposedly imprable defense, scoring the first ten points of the match.

    The stadium erupted in cheers and apuse. The Top Box became a sea of frenzied excitement, with Ginny and Hermione jumping up and down, waving their arms wildly. Harry couldn''t help but grin at the sight of Hermione, usually soposed, caught up in the thrill of the match.

    Ron''s reaction was equally enthusiastic, but aftering to his senses, he immediately fixed his gaze on Ludo, who wasmentating, his eyes full of eager anticipation.

    At the edge of the field, the leprechauns brought by the Irish team were celebrating in their own unique way. They rose into the air once more, forming a giant, glittering shamrock that sparkled magnificently against the night sky. On the opposite side of the field, the ve watched this with gloomy expressions.

    The Irish team was living up to the high expectations ced upon them. Far from bingcent after taking the early lead, they pressed on relentlessly, expanding their advantage with incredibly fast attacks and breathtaking teamwork that left the crowd gasping in awe. Within just ten minutes, the towering scoreboard opposite the Top Box disyed a score of 30-0 in favor of Irnd.

    As the match progressed, it became increasingly intense and brutal.

    The Bulgarian yers, despite the setback, showed remarkable tenacity and grit. Though they were mostly aware that their primary hope of victoryy with their genius Seeker, Viktor Krum, they refused to shy away from engaging in a fierce scoring battle with Irnd. Their determination paid off when Bulgaria finally managed to get on the scoreboard, igniting a roar of approval from their supporters.

    "You''d better cover your ears, kids!" Sirius suddenly shouted, his sharp eyes catching sight of the ve beginning to dance in celebration of Bulgaria''s goal. Harry, heeding the advice of his godfather, quickly mped his hands over his ears and screwed his eyes shut. While he was curious about the ve''s entrancing dance he preferred to keep his sanity and focus on the ongoing match.

    Just as Harry was about to uncover his ears, a shout from Ron caught his attention. "Blimey, Harry! Look at Krum! I think he''s spotted the Snitch!"

    In an instant, the entire stadium''s attention shifted from the valiant efforts of the Chasers to the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch. The pair had suddenly broken away from the main group of yers hovering in midair and were now plummeting towards the ground at breakneck speed. Their fall was so rapid and steep that they resembled a pair of skydivers who had forgotten their parachutes.

    The crowd held its breath as Krum and Lynch dashed downward with absolute focus. It seemed as though they were determined to either catch the Golden Snitch or crash spectacrly into the ground in the attempt.

    "They''re going to crash!" Hermione shrieked, her voice tight with fear as she clutched at Harry''s robes.

    As it turned out, Hermione was only half right in her prediction. At the veryst possible second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive with a disy of skill that left Harry breathless with admiration. The gust from Krum''s broom as he pulled up ttened arge patch of grass before he soared back into the sky, unscathed.

    Lynch, however, was not so fortunate. He hit the ground with a sickening thud that echoed throughout the stadium, audible even over the gasps and cries of the spectators. A collective groan rose from the Irish supporters'' seats, tinged with concern for their Seeker.

    "Merlin''s beard, what a fool!" Mr. Weasleymented, shaking his head in a mixture of admiration and dismay. "Krum was just feinting!"

    "Time out!" Bagman''s voice roared over themotion, signaling a brief pause in the action.

    In response to the call, a team of well-trained mediwizards rushed onto the field with practiced efficiency.

    Charlie, noticing the distress on his sister''s face, quickly moved to reassure her. "Don''t worry, Ginny," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Lynch is alright, just got the wind knocked out of him is all. These yers are tougher than they look."

    Hermione, meanwhile, had not loosened her grip on Harry''s robes. Her face was pale, and she seemed unable to look directly at the field. Harry, for his part, was using his Omniocrs to rey the recent scene, analyzing every detail of Krum''s masterful feint.

    "Of course, this is exactly what Krum wanted to achieve," Siriusmented, having moved to stand next to Harry. There was a hint of nostalgia in his voice as he continued, "The Wronski Feint - it''s used to take out dangerous opposing Seekers. An extremely difficult move to pull off sessfully. Apart from your father, James, I''ve never seen a Seeker execute it so wlessly in a real match."

    After only a few minutes, Lynch got to his feet. A resounding cheer erupted from his green-d supporters as he unsteadily mounted his Firebolt, kicked off from the ground, and shot back into the air to rejoin the match. His recovery seemed to inject renewed confidence into the Irish team. When the referee''s whistle pierced the air once more, signaling the resumption of y, the Irish Chasers quickly organized their attack with a level of skill and coordination that left Harry, despite his own Quidditch experience, utterly awestruck.

    The next fifteen minutes of y were breathtaking. The Irish team, seemingly stimted by Lynch''s brush with disaster, went on an offensive rampage. They scored ten more goals in rapid session. The scoreboard now showed a lead of 130 to 10 in favor of Irnd.

    Ron, who had been caught up in the excitement of the match, seemed to have finally snapped out of his Quidditch-induced trance. He realized that the game was unfolding exactly as he had boldly predicted to Ludo Bagman. His eyes darted nervously between the action on the field and Bagman himself, who appeared blissfully unaware that he was potentially on the verge of losing a substantial sum of money. In a gesture that was part superstition and part desperate hope, Ron pulled Professor Watson''s Merlinmemorative coin from his pocket, clutching it tightly as if it were a charm of good fortune.

    Harry couldn''t help but grin at Ron''s antics. If the match result turned out as Ron had predicted, Harry too stood to win a tidy sum of gold. His mind raced with the possibilities - perhaps he could finally buy himself that broomstick servicing kit he''d been eyeing for ages, a luxury he had previously been unable to justify purchasing.

    Just as Harry was about to turn his full attention back to the thrilling match unfolding before them, something caught his eye. He nced casually around their Top Box, taking in the reactions of the other spectators. Most were on their feet, necks craned towards the field,pletely engrossed in the action and unwilling to miss even a split second of this exciting match.

    The Bulgarian Minister of Magic was wide-eyed as he watched his nation''s team struggling against the Irish attack. Next to him, Fudge, out of courtesy, was trying to offer words offort to him.

    This wasn''t unusual, but then¡ª

    It was then that Harry noticed something odd. Lucius Malfoy was leading his wife Narcissa and their son Draco towards the exit of the box while no one was paying attention!

    Harry blinked, unsure if he was seeing things correctly. The match was at its most intense point - why would anyone, let alone the Malfoys, choose this moment to leave? As he watched more closely, he noticed that Lucius and Narcissa both wore expressions of barely concealed anxiety, tinged with a sense of urgency that seemed entirely at odds with the celebratory atmosphere around them.

    It was as if they couldn''t wait to leave. While their son, Draco, looked confused. Although he followed behind his parents, his eyes, fixed on their backs, were full of reluctance and bewilderment.

    Under the cover of the intense match, with everyone''s attention firmly fixed on the match, no one except Harry seemed to notice this strange scene.

    Lucius paused briefly at the box door. He nced at Fudge inside the box, and after confirming that Fudge hadn''t noticed his impending departure, his gaze swept over to Sirius. In the dim light, there was a hint of coldness in his eyes.

    As Harry watched the Malfoy family disappear from view, a sudden chill ran through his body.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0433 Quidditch World Cup Final

    0433 Quidditch World Cup Final

    As the Malfoy family disappeared through the doorframe of the top box, an inexplicable sense of unease welled up in Harry''s heart. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a chill ran down his spine. Unable to shake this ominous feeling, he immediately shared his discovery with Sirius.

    "Sirius," Harry whispered urgently, tugging at Sirius''s sleeve, "The Malfoys left without watching the entire match. Don''t you think that''s odd?"

    Sirius, still immersed in the increasingly intense game unfolding before them, took several long seconds to calm himself and process what Harry was saying. His eyes, previously burning with excitement, now darted towards the luxurious seats reserved for the Malfoy family. True to Harry''s word, they were empty. Sirius''s brow furrowed deeply, as lines of concern appeared across his forehead.

    "What urgent matter could possibly make them leave before the World Cup match ends?" Sirius thought aloud, his voice low and hoarse. "It''s not like Lucius to miss an opportunity to schmooze with the bigwigs here."

    "I don''t know!" Harry eximed, his voice rising with a mixture of frustration and worry. The hostile nce Lucius Malfoy had given Sirius upon entering and leaving the box weighed on his mind like a heavy stone, causing him great concern. "Sirius, I can''t shake the feeling that the Malfoys are plotting something... possibly against you!"

    "I can''t rule out that possibility, Harry--" Sirius began, his voice trailing off as he considered the implications.

    Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw Sirius, a veteran of the wizarding war, seriously considering his words and agreeing with his opinion. However, Sirius''s grey eyes flicked towards Fudge and the Bulgarian Minister of Magic who looked thoroughly confused by the fast-paced game, and the other bigwigs of the Wizarding world scattered throughout the box. After a moment of contemtion, Sirius spoke again.

    "I''ll be careful, Harry," he said, his voice low and reassuring, "but I don''t think Malfoy has the guts to cause trouble at the World Cup. Unless, of course, he wants to face the wrath of the entire Ministry of Magic, not to mention the international magicalmunity gathered here."

    Harry followed Sirius''s gaze, taking in the gathered dignitaries and acknowledging the logic in his godfather''s judgment. But, Harry couldn''t fully shake his unease.

    "We''ll discuss this after the match, Harry," Sirius added, his tone softening as he saw the worry still etched on Harry''s face. "For now, you should focus on watching the game! It''s not every day you get to see a Quidditch World Cup final, after all."

    Sirius reminded Harry with a warm smile, reaching out to ruffle the boy''s messy ck hair affectionately.

    Harry nodded, trying to push his concerns to the back of his mind. He turned his attention back to the match, where the action had intensified to a fever pitch.

    Hermione and Ron, seated on either side of Harry, hadn''t noticed their hushed conversation. They were utterly engrossed in the match as they followed the blur of yers zooming across the pitch. Ron, his freckled face flushed with excitement, even burst intoughter at some unseen y.

    "What happened?" Harry eagerly leaned back over the railing, his earlier worries momentarily forgotten in the face of his curiosity. "What did I miss?" he asked anxiously, his green eyes darting back and forth across the pitch, trying to catch up on the action.

    Neither Ron nor Hermione answered Harry''s question, both too engrossed in the unfolding spectacle to tear their attention away. Realizing he''d have to see for himself, Harry fumbled for his Omniocrs, pressing them to his sses as he scanned the pitch.

    For some inexplicable reason, the leprechauns brought by the Irish team had risen into the air like a swarm of glittering, emerald bumblebees. They swirled and danced in intricate patterns before suddenly merging to form giant shining letters spelling out "HA! HA! HA!"

    Across the field, the ve, not to be outdone, jumped to their feet in a synchronous motion with grace. Without warning, they began to dance again, their movements so alluring and hypnotic that Harry felt himself being drawn in despite his best efforts.

    Harry was about to p his hands over his ears, a defense mechanism he''d learned from previous encounters with the ve''s enchanting dance, when Hermione tugged insistently at his arm. He turned to face her, noting the amused glint in her eyes and the way she was trying to suppress a giggle. She impatiently pulled his fingers from his ears.

    "Look at the referee!" she said through barely containedughter, pointing towards the center of the pitch.

    Harry followed her gaze, his jaw dropping at the sight that met him. Hassan Mostafa, the referee who had been flying above the pitch had suddenlynded right in front of the dancing ve. His behavior was beyond odd - it was downrightical. The usually stern-faced man was now flexing his muscles like a bodybuilder, puffing out his chest and excitedly stroking his mustache.

    "Now, we can''t have that!" Ludo Bagman''s magically amplified voice boomed through the stadium, though he sounded more amused than concerned. He chuckled heartily, clearly finding the scene quite entertaining. "Somebody p the referee!"

    A mediwizard, shaking his head in exasperation, rushed onto the field. With a resounding smack that echoed through the stadium, he brought the referee back to his senses. Mostafa looked around in confusion, his face reddening as he realized what had happened.

    From this point on, the match gradually descended into a state of barely controlled chaos, bing fiercer and more intense than anyone had ever witnessed in years. The crowd''s excitement reached a fever pitch, with spectators on the edge of their seats, gasping and cheering at every turn.

    The Beaters on both sides showed absolutely no mercy. Volkov and Vulchanov from Bulgaria were particrly brutal in their tactics. They didn''t seem to care whether their clubs hit the Bludger or an opposing yer, swinging wildly with all their might.

    In a particrly vicious y, Dimitrov, one of Bulgaria''s Chasers, flew straight at Moran as she attempted to score. His eyes were narrowed, focused solely on the Irish Chaser as he barreled towards her at breakneck speed. At thest possible second, Moran rolled to avoid the collision, nearly losing her grip on her broom. The crowd collectively gasped as she swayed precariously for a heart-stopping moment before managing to bnce herself.

    "Foul!" The enraged shouts of the crowd shook the Quidditch stadium. Without a moment''s hesitation, the referee''s whistle shrieked through the air, and Irnd was awarded two penalty shots, which they easily converted.

    As if sensing the rising tensions, the leprechauns seized the spotlight for the third time that night. This time, they formed a giant, glittering green hand in the air. With a cheeky flourish, the hand made a very rude gesture towards the ve on the other side of the field. The crowd erupted into a mixture of gasps and wildughter.

    Seeing this tant provocation, the vepletely lost control. Their beauty melted away revealing their true, terrifying form. Instead of dancing, theyunched themselves across the pitch with incredible speed. As they flew, they hurled what looked like handfuls of fire at the leprechauns.

    Harry peered through his Omniocrs for a closer look. What he saw made his breath catch in his throat. The ve were no longer the epitome of beauty that had entranced the crowd earlier. On the contrary, their faces had elongated into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, their delicate features twisted into masks of rage. Long, scaly wings burst from their shoulders as they soared across the pitch.

    "Good heavens!" Harry cried out in panic, a memory suddenly surfacing in his mind. "I''ve seen them before! Professor Watson showed me ve!"

    "Oh?" Mr. Weasley, who had been lecturing the children about not judging by appearances, heard Harry''s exmation and leaned in with interest. "Can you tell us more about that, Harry?"

    Harry turned his head to find Hermione also staring at him intently, seemingly waiting for an exnation.

    "I''ll tell youter, Hermione--" Harry shrank his neck nervously, knowing that anything involving Professor Watson required careful consideration before being shared.

    "KRUMM!" Ron''s excited shout allowed Hermione to temporarily back down, refocusing her attention on the match.

    Krum wasn''t flying as erratically fast as he had been at the start of the match. Instead, he was now weaving unsteadily close to the ground. Ron, who had ced a substantial bet on the oue of the match, was stomping his feet anxiously - whether or not he would win his wager now depended entirely on Krum pulling off a miracle.

    But there was something wrong with Krum, something that most of the spectators hadn''t noticed yet. During an earlier encounter with a particrly vicious Bludger, Krum had been injured.

    "They should pause the match, Krum''s injured!" Ron shouted at Bagman, his face red with indignation. He didn''t care whether thementator could hear him or not over the roar of the crowd. In any case, Bagman gave no indication to the referee, continuing his enthusiasticmentary as if nothing was wrong.

    Just as Ron was about to leave his seat and approach Bagman directly, a sudden hush fell over the stadium. Krum had abruptly elerated on the pitch, his eyes fixed on a point in the distance. At the same time, Lynch dove sharply from a position level with the goal hoops.

    Harry''s heart leapt into his throat as he realized what was happening. This time, Lynch wasn''t imitating Krum''s Wronski Feint - they, including himself, had all seen the Golden Snitch.

    Many spectators had realized what was happening. Another wave of anticipation swept through the stadium as everyone watched the two Seekers draw level at some point, chasing forward together, and then--

    The world fell silent as if someone had hit the pause button. No one knew how to react to the scoreboard on the giant screen opposite the goal hoops: Irnd 170, Bulgaria 160.

    "We won..." Ron was the first to speak in the box, breaking the stunned silence. He looked dazedly at Bagman, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he couldn''t quite believe what had just happened. "Can you believe it, Harry? We won... a whole...Five Hundred Galleons each--"

    "But why?" Hermione looked utterly confused, her brow furrowed in concentration as she stared at the hook-nosed yer hovering and panting in midair on the pitch. "He caught the Snitch when Bulgaria was 160 points behind. Isn''t that stupid? He should have interfered with Lynch, made him lose track of the Snitch--"

    "Because Krum knew," Harry''s excited shout was drowned out by the thunderous roar from outside the box. "They could never catch up to the Irish team!"

    At this moment, many things were happening simultaneously. Fudge looking slightly flustered, was attempting to console the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, who appeared to be on the verge of tears. Ron and the twins were stumbling towards Ludo Bagman, who was shouting the match results with all his might. Sirius, Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie were all standing on their chairs cheering for the unexpected result.

    Hermione stared at the genius Seeker who was circling the pitch to acknowledge the crowd, beginning to understand why so many people were crazy about him. On the Quidditch pitch, Viktor Krum could indeed be considered a valiant warrior.

    Outside the box, things were much more chaotic. The aftermath of the match had sparked a powder keg of emotions, and now the stadium was erupting into barely controlled mayhem. Needless to say, the Irish leprechauns and Bulgarian ve were at each other''s throats again.

    The ve, now fully transformed into their true, terrifying form, were even more ferocious than before. Their bird-like faces were twisted with rage, their scaly wings beating furiously as theyunched themselves at their opponents. They not only attacked the leprechauns but also showered mes on the Irish supporters celebrating in the lower tiers, causing panicked screams to rise from the crowd.

    The leprechauns, for their part, were using their magic to create illusions and distractions, confusing and infuriating the ve further. Golden coins rained down on the crowd, only to vanish momentster, adding to the chaos as spectators scrambled to grab the illusory wealth.

    Fan conflicts were expected by the Ministry of Magic, but the scale of this altercation seemed to have caught them off guard. Many Ministry officials rushed to the conflict points, their wands out as they tried to separate the angry supporters.

    "People will talk about this match for years toe, Harry!" Sirius eximed; his voice hoarse from cheering. He was still apuding wildly for the yers on the field, but somehow, his expression suddenly dimmed. He stared at Harry''s back as he talked to Ron and a glimmer of light shed in his grey eyes.

    Ron and the twins each received a money bag from Bagman. Ron numbly held out the bag to Harry, his lips quivering slightly. It was hard to tell whether he was crying orughing at this moment.

    Mr. Weasley stared at the money bags in his three children''s hands. He knew they contained nearly two thousand Galleons, a considerable sum.

    "Children, if you''d like, I can help you open a vault at Gringotts. It''s not safe to keep such arge amount of money with you, especially in this crowd." He paused, a flicker of worry crossing his face before he added, "And if your mother finds out..."

    "No!" Ron suddenly snapped back to his senses, clutching the money bag so tightly his knuckles turned white. His eyes were wide with a mixture of excitement and fear - fear of losing this unexpected windfall, perhaps. "Half of this money is Harry''s. I''d rather keep it in Harry''s vault!"

    "We have other ns, Dad!" Fred and George chimed in simultaneously, matching mischievous grins spreading across their faces. Mr. Weasley could only smile bitterly at this.

    "Let''s go, Harry--" Sirius patted the shoulder of Harry, who still hadn''t calmed down. His voice softened considerably, "It won''t be quick or easy for a hundred thousand people to leave. Let''s get going before everyone else reacts."

    Sirius''s suggestion was wise. Harry nodded, ready to call his friends to leave. Despite thete hour, he knew they probably wouldn''t be able to sleep tonight, but just then--

    <strong>BOOM--</strong>

    A sudden, violent explosion came from below the pitch, the sound was so loud it momentarily drowned out even the chaotic noise of the celebrating crowd. Harry''s words died in his throat as he instinctively ducked, his seeker reflexes kicking in.

    But it wasn''t just one explosion. A series of sts followed in quick session; Harry could even feel the floor beneath his feet trembling.

    "What''s going on? Haven''t these people calmed down yet?" Charlie said with a frown as he jumped down from his chair.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0434 Chaos

    0434 Chaos

    Themotion below seemed to have ignited like a pile of dry kindling meeting fire, rapidly spreading as more and more fans joined the unrest. Furthermore, the ves brought by Bulgaria were fanning the mes, and the Ministry employees trying to maintain order had charged into the surging crowd without causing so much as a ripple.

    Were the supporters of Bulgaria enraged by their team''s loss? Harry could understand this reason, but he was utterly baffled as to how that explosive sound had just urred.

    The people in the luxury box now dared not venture outside, for who knew if the enraged spectators might trample them into mincemeat? One by one, they rose from their chairs, making their way to the railing that overlooked the pitch, stretching their necks to catch a glimpse of the unfolding mayhem below.

    "There are people in ck robes!" Harry suddenly cried out, his voice tinged with a mixture of fear and urgency as he scanned the scene through his Omniocrs. "They''re firing spells into the crowd!"

    "Let me see!"

    Without a moment''s hesitation, Sirius snatched the Omniocrs from Harry''s, the frames digging deeply into the sockets of his eyes as he peered intently at the chaos unfolding below. After a moment, he lowered the Omniocrs, nodding solemnly at Mr. Weasley.

    "Harry''s right, there are some people in dark cloaks all over the stadium, and they''re causing the mayhem!"

    The Bulgarian Minister of Magic immediately turned his gaze to Fudge, hoping for an exnation.

    "Oh, oh¡ª"

    Fudge wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. He appeared flustered, but still managed a smile in an effort to reassure the people in the box.

    "What a thrilling match, isn''t it? Captivating the hearts of all!"

    All eyes were on Fudge, whose pale face and quivering jowls showed his agitation.

    "In my opinion, it''s likely some extremist fan group, unwilling to ept the loss," Fudge continued, his words fumbling and unconvincing. He paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, before adding, "Oh, let me think, should we send someone down to inquire about the situation? Who will volunteer? Ah, splendid, Arthur, I nearly forgot you were here as well. What do you think?"

    "Dad!" Ginny called out with concern, clinging to Mr. Weasley''s robes, unwilling to let him leave.

    "I must go, Ginny!" Mr. Weasley said sternly. "If there are indeed people causing trouble, then I must go stop them. It is my responsibility!"

    "I''ll go with you, Dad!" Percy suddenly spoke up. He was pleased that the Minister was looking at him with a grateful gaze, and so he puffed out his chest proudly. "I bet Mr. Crouch is already down there directing the crowd evacuation. I must be the first to act, so I don''t leave him to face the unrest alone!"

    Mr. Weasley eyed his young, fearless-looking son, hesitating for a moment, before ultimately nodding.

    "Alright, Percy, you cane with me, but don''t be reckless. And¡ª"

    Mr. Weasley''s gaze was then fixed on Sirius.

    Sirius had been nning to go down and assess the situation himself, but since Fudge had given the order to Arthur, someone did need to stay and look after these underage children, so he could only nod reluctantly.

    "Don''t worry, I''ll take care of them."

    With that, Mr. Weasley and Percy rushed out of the box like the wind, while the remaining ones waited anxiously. Fudge managed a strained smile, trying to reassure everyone, but no one was listening to him at this point.

    The gloomy box was thick with tension, everyone maintaining a suppressed silence. But themotion below showed no signs of subsiding - in fact, it was only growing more intense.

    The air was filled with the booming of explosions, as if someone had set off a barrage of fireworks right in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Cries of rm and anguished wails came from all directions!

    Ron, clutching his money bag, stared nkly at the box entrance where his father and Percy had just charged out, still seemingly unable to grasp the events unfolding.

    "Harry!" Hermione grabbed Harry''s sleeve and called out, her eyes filled with unease when Harry turned to face her.

    "It''s the Malfoys!" Harry said through gritted teeth, looking to Sirius, who was still surveying the situation.

    "It must be Lucius Malfoy, he''s the one causing this chaos, he and his entire family must have escaped in advance to avoid affecting themselves!"

    "It''s no use dwelling on that now, Harry!" Sirius said sternly. "We can investigate who''s responsible after this unrest is dealt with. But if the chaos spreads up here, you all must not try to be heroes - you must all stick closely behind me. This is not Hogwarts, understand?"

    "What''s going on, Harry?" Hermione asked urgently, her voiceced with deep concern. "Why do you think it''s the Malfoy family behind this?"

    Harry then quickly recounted how he had noticed the Malfoy family suspiciously leaving the stadium early. Hearing this, Ron suddenly sprang up from his seat as if he had been magically revived.

    "It has to be them!" Ron cried. "That whole family is rotten to the core! I''m going to tell Dad about your suspicion, Harry. Oh wait, the Minister is right here, Harry, maybe we should¡ª"

    "We have no concrete proof, Ron!" Hermione sharply interrupted, her slender frame visibly shuddering.

    Themotion below was no longer just frightening explosions and screams - the Ministry seemed to have already engaged in a fierce battle with the troublemakers, and the eerie shes of spellfire were painfully bright.

    Hermione''s body shivered, the sounds from below torturing her nerves and making her heart ache. She too suspected the Malfoy family, but still stopped Ron''s suggestion.

    "Unless you can find some tangible evidence, Ron, I don''t see the Minister believing the guess of an underage student. Especially with all the influential wizards from around the world gathered here, I can''t even imagine how they would perceive us¡ª"

    Mr. Weasley had been gone for a while, but no news hade back. The fear of the unknown was the most agonizing. Fudge, under immense inner turmoil, tried tofort the people gathered around him, though the handkerchief he used to wipe his brow was already soaked through.

    "Ludo, why don''t you go down as well, and have Rufus send some Aurors to guard us?"

    The rapidly escting chaos from below was filling the trembling Fudge with a sense of dread, and he looked pleadingly at the cowering, nervous Ludo Bagman.

    Most of the assembled agreed emphatically with Fudge''s suggestion, using his authority as Minister to pressure Ludo to hurry and summon the Head of the Auror Office and his skilled subordinates toe defend them.

    Before Ludo could even respond, a figure suddenly came rushing up the corridor towards the box, appearing in everyone''s line of sight.

    It was Remus!

    He was drenched in sweat, his pupils contracted to extreme, his pale face from his half-year stay at St. Mungo''s was now even more ghastly. He gripped his wand tightly, his brand-new robes half-burned. It seemed that he had just fought a fierce battle with someone!

    "Lu-Lupin, is that you¡ª"

    Remus hadn''t even caught his ragged breath yet when the panic-stricken Fudge cried out in rm.

    "What''s going on, how did you even get here, I mean, you''re not allowed to¡ª"

    Remus had no time or patience to deal with Fudge''s stammering, incoherent questions. In the brief moment he regained hisposure, he let out a thunderous, urgent shout towards Sirius, who was protectively shielding Harry and the others:

    "Sirius, get Harry out of here immediately! It''s the Death Eaters!"

    Time seemed to freeze for a seemingly endless ten seconds in that oppressive box - not a single person, from Minister Fudge and his esteemed guests, to Sirius and the young people huddled behind him, to even the trembling Winky, dared to make even the slightest sound.

    The fear was building, brewing, and then it erupted!

    The shrieks of terror that burst forth in that instant were like a dam suddenly bursting open, the flood rushing out with unstoppable, violent force.

    Agonized cries to the Heavens, the thunderous sounds of chairs toppling and crashing, the pained, anguished wails of wizards frantically tumbling down the stairs - everyone was frantically, desperately pushing and shoving towards the box''s exit. Even Fudge''s status as Minister held no sway now, as he was ruthlessly shoved aside by the panicked, stampeding crowd, inadvertently knocking over Winky and her chair!

    Remus tried to push back into the box, but was quickly swallowed up and engulfed by the desperate, fleeing mob racing to escape, and soon he could no longer see or hear anyone.

    "Everyone, get your wands out and follow me! If anyone tries to curse you, use your best spells to bring them down, no matter who they are!"

    Sirius, radiating an intense, fierce resolve, had drawn his wand at some point, roaringmandingly to lead the terrified children to safety. But just then¡ª

    <strong>BOOM!</strong>

    The sturdy wall beside the box entrance suddenly exploded in a deafening st, sending many wizards flying back, crashing violently against the ceiling and other walls of the box. As the thick, choking dust slowly settled, three imposing figures in ominous, dark cloaks, emanating a palpable aura of malice, now stood before the horrified eyes of Sirius and Harry!

    The fear of death hung over the wizards in thepartment like a thin, suffocating veil, making most of them shiver with barely contained terror.

    The three wizards in dark cloaks stood calmly amidst the rubble they had sted through the wall. They stared at the trembling "bigwigs" inside thepartment, who were as silent as mice. Despite the vast disparity in numbers between the two sides, the dark wizards exuded no tension, as if they were just facing a herd of pigs to be ughtered.

    "Hmph¡ª" It was impossible to distinguish the faces of the three dark wizards who had appeared before them, but the one on the right was noticeably smaller in build. She nced at the struggling Cornelius Fudge, who had been blown away by the recent explosion, and sneered contemptuously. "The Ministry, hmph, it''s getting more and more pathetic!"

    "Who are you?" Sirius asked, his voice low and steady as he positioned himself between the dark wizards and the children behind him. Bill and Charlie stood guard on the nks, their wands raised and at the ready, but the beads of sweat on their foreheads showed the immense pressure they were under.

    Sirius had now calmed himself; his grey eyes were gleaming with the intensity of an alpha wolf guarding its territory.

    Remus had been lost in the panicked crowd somewhere, and the pampered "gentlemen" in thepartment, who were usually hailed as "powerful," were now so terrified that they had forgotten where they had ced their wands. Apart from Sirius, no one else seemed capable of protecting Harry and the children.

    It was necessary to try and identify the three dark-robed figures. Sirius probed cautiously, "Let me guess, Malfoy, Dolohov, and the Carrow siblings, old friends, isn''t that right? Why don''t you throw off your cloaks and let me see your faces?"

    "Impossible!" Fudge finally found some of the courage of a Minister of Magic. He and the Bulgarian Minister of Magic were standing amongst the ruins, their wands raised and pointed at the three dark wizards. Hearing Sirius''s guess, Fudge flushed as if he had been deeply insulted. "The three people you mentioned are all in Azkaban, Sirius. They could never have escaped!"

    "I''m not as confident as you, Minister," Sirius snapped back bitterly.

    The battle erupted suddenly, without any warning, and Harry, protected by Sirius, realized that a real life-and-death duel was very different from the ones they had seen in Lockhart''s dueling club ¨C it was more underhanded and more perilous.

    Among the three dark wizards, the smallest one, who looked like a woman, suddenly pointed her wand at the ceiling, and with a violent sh, the steel beams and roof panels supporting the structure copsed, raining down a torrent of construction debris. Fudge and the Bulgarian Minister were buried without even having a chance to cast a spell.

    "Get down!" Sirius roared. His arms swung repeatedly, and two crimson spells shot towards the three dark wizards like sharp-screaming arrows, but they had no effect.

    The dark wizard in the middle thrust his ebony wand at the floor, and a dark, curtain-like water screen rapidly rose from the ground. Sirius''s spells sank into the water screen and were extinguished without a trace.

    This scene made Sirius''s heart sink. "Bill, Charlie, find a chance to get them out of here!" he called out, his voiceced with urgency.

    Before Harry could object, Sirius, like a lone wolf, charged out towards the dark wizards.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0435 Desperate Situation (Large Chapter)

    0435 Desperate Situation (Large Chapter)

    Before Harry could object, Sirius, like a lone wolf, charged out towards the dark wizards.

    A violent explosion erupted between Sirius and the three Dark wizards, and countless debris and shards of stone flew in all directions like deadly projectiles. Charlie''s reaction was one step faster - his burly arms firmly restrained Harry, who had tried to rush out to help Sirius, as an invisible shield froze all the fragments in midair.

    "Sys and I''ll deal with this Sirius. Mnov, you go control Harry Potter," the tallest of the three dark wizards said brazenly, not caring who heard. "With that little brat in our hands, I''m sure he''ll surrender."

    Sirius, who had jumped onto the steps in an attempt to upy the high ground, looked very pale. He was afraid that Bill and Charlie could not cope with the onught, so he hurried back towards Harry. But before he could take a step, two spells with tricky angles were already attacking his face and knees.

    A gust of evil wind suddenly whipped up, and two radiant floral halos blossomed around Sirius, who waved his arms like whips, making his tanned face look extremely pale. Harry watched helplessly as his godfather was sent flying like a Bludger struck by a bat, crashing hard into a wall and then falling to the ground.

    "Sirius!" Harry roared furiously, about to rush out, but Hermione grabbed him firmly around the waist from behind.

    "Don''t be reckless, Harry, this is not something we can handle!"

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    The wizard called Mnov waved his wand, and the dark magical mist swirling around him surged forward like a swarm of locusts, shattering Charlie''s conjured shield in an instant.

    "Get down!" Charlie roared, shoving Harry, Hermione, and the others aside, then dodging towards the railing.

    A deafening roar followed, and Bill pulled the nearly-falling Charlie back. Bill''s usual carefree face was now grim, his eyes focused and intense as he recalled the night in the Forbidden Forest when he had a conflict with Bryan years ago. Since that night, he had never encountered a situation as perilous as the present one.

    Dazed by the copse of the magical barrier, Charlie was momentarily unable to join the battle. Bill abruptly flicked his wand, and the broken chairs and steel on the floor began to levitate, transforming under the Transfiguration spell into gleaming des that shot towards Mnov.

    "Child''s y--" Mnov''s voice was so contemptuous amid the endless rumble.

    Indeed, Bill''s conjured des had no effect. They flew to within ten feet of Mnov before disintegrating into brilliant sparks.

    Fear had finally driven some to madness!

    In the corner, a well-dressed middle-aged wizard, his suit covered in dust, seeing the three dark wizards'' terrible might, had his mind clouded by terror and rushed towards the copsed doorway, howling.

    The young wizards still in Hogwarts, including the graduated Charlie and Bill, could swear that the sight they saw next was definitely the cruelest scene they had ever witnessed in their lives.

    The terrified middle-aged wizard, having lost his reason in his haste to escape, recklessly charged towards Mnov. However--

    The dark mist permeating the air suddenly merged in front of Mnov, forming a dark-shrouded skeletal figure like the Grim Reaper, which let out a bone-chilling, terrifying cackle and surged forward, directly piercing the middle-aged wizard''s chest.

    The middle-aged wizard''s steps wavered, and he stared dumbly at his own chest--

    His suit seemed to have gone through a lot of changes in an instant, and Harry watched as the fine fabric turned gray and crumbled into dust within a second or two, and then turned into powder and drifted away. Then the exposed skin darkened and rotted, from the outside to the inside, skin, muscle, bone, and heart - all dissolved into pus.

    The flesh melted away, leaving a gaping, irregr hole in the middle-aged wizard''s chest!

    "Ugh, ugh--" The middle-aged wizard, who had been wealthy and influential, seemed unable to believe he was dying here. He lowered his head and saw the big hole in his chest. He was shocked and dazed. Then, his head tilted, and his body fell to the ground, his lifeless eyes still facing Mnov.

    <strong>Vomit! </strong>

    Ginny was the first to throw up unable to withstand the gruesome sight.

    <strong>Thump--</strong>

    Hermione''s weak legs were unable to support her body. She knelt on the ground with a bang, her face covered in dust, and tears of fear still glistening in the corners of her eyes. The Weasley brothers, from Ron to Bill, were all stunned and demoralized.

    <em><strong>Whoosh!</strong> </em>

    The vast dark mist transformed into a rope, coiling towards Harry like a venomous snake.

    Harry''s instinctive and trained reflexes allowed him to dodge the binding coils just in time, and as he rolled to the ground, he cast his most potent spell.

    The Disarming Charm briefly illuminated thepartment, but was soon extinguished.

    "The child who defeated the Dark Lord, oh, how interesting, let me see how capable you are--"

    The air in the Quidditch stadium crackled with tension as Harry''s eyes strained to pierce through the inky darkness. Though the mysterious figure''s face remained hidden beneath the cloak, Harry could have sworn he glimpsed the flicker of a cruel mocking smile across the unseen lips.

    "Stay away from Harry!" The words erupted from Sirius''s throat, raw and primal, filled with fierce protectiveness.

    In the span of a single heartbeat, chaos erupted. The world around them exploded into a dizzying turmoil of motion and light, spells crackling through the air like deadly fireworks.

    Everything had happened in a sh. But Sirius hadn''t fallen from the violent impact just now. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he stood with a face full of fury. The storm of spells erupting from his wand tip even forced back the other two dark wizards. However, he was still unable to break free from being cornered against the wall and couldn''t reach Harry at the front of the box!

    "What should we do? Think of something--"

    Hermione knelt on the ground, tears in her eyes and body trembling slightly, but was still trying her best to calmly analyze the situation.

    Charlie and Bill rushed forward bravely to fend off the dark wizard who had attacked Harry. But even to Hermione''s untrained eye, the disparity in skill was painfully apparent. If that dark witch called Mnov didn''t want to kill anymore, Charlie and Bill might already be done for. And Harry, though braver than imaginable, had no chance to use magic, He could only frantically dodge the attacks of the ghostly ck rope with reflexes honed through countless hours of Quidditch practice and physical education ss.

    But it was Sirius whose situation truly chilled Hermione to her core.

    Unlike Mnov, who seemed intent on capture rather than killing, the two dark wizards focusing their attention on Sirius showed no such restraint. Every spell that left their wands crackled with lethal intent, each one aimed to end Sirius''s life. The air around him was active with silver shes and thunderous explosions as Sirius was forced to retreat repeatedly. The battle had already spilled over into the neighboring box, leaving a trail of destruction.

    <em>''What could they do?''</em>

    Hermione''s mind raced, searching frantically for a solution.

    <em>''Where were the reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic? Surely, they must have been alerted by now!''</em>

    But Mnov was also very cunning, she continuously blocked the exit, cutting off all escape routes. They couldn''t flee through the corridor, and jumping over the railing... Hermione had nced down earlier - they would certainly break their necks!

    Then, in a moment of desperate inspiration, Hermione scrambled to her feet. She pointed her wand towards the sky, and a brilliant burst of light shot out from the tip, soaring into the air above the Quidditch field before exploding spectacrly. In an instant, colorful fireworks illuminated the gloomy night sky.

    The unexpectedmotion caught the Bulgarian Quidditch teampletely off-guard. They now hovered uncertainly in midair, their heads craned upwards to stare at the unexpected fireworks blooming above them. But one yer, sharper and more alert than his teammates, immediately looked for the source of the disturbance, and there he saw Hermione, sprawled at the edge of the box, desperately waving her arms.

    After only a moment''s hesitation, Victor Krum made up his mind.

    To those watching, it was as if Krum had apparated while riding his broomstick. One moment he was hovering with his team, the next he materialized before the box packed with various wizarding dignitaries. His dark eyes swept across the scene of carnage, widening in shock as he took in the battle raging around him. When he spoke, his thick ent mangled the words, but the urgency in his tone was unmistakable.

    "You... what''s happening?"

    Ron despite the mortal danger surrounding them, couldn''t help but gawk at his Quidditch idol with a dreamy expression.

    Hermione, equally surprised that it was Krum who hade, opened her mouth to call for help. But before she could utter a sound, her face contorted in terror. With a desperate lunge, she threw herself backwards, narrowly avoiding the ck rope that had pierced through Bill''s Shield Charm and was now aiming for her neck.

    A few strands of her bushy brown hair drifted through the air, visibly disintegrating into ash as they fell.

    No exnation was needed now; Krum knew what to do. He extended his hand towards Hermione, his blood-smeared and grim face showing urgency,

    "Quick, I... you leave, broom--"

    But before Hermione could say anything, Mnov''s inky ck whip suddenly retracted. It coiled back on itself like a striking serpent beforeshing out towards Krum''s broomstick. In a disy of aerial prowess that left even Harry impressed, Krum executed a perfect barrel roll on the spot. The ck whip sliced through the empty air where he had been hovering just a split second before. Without missing a beat, Krum retreated several dozen feet, his eyes never leaving Mnov as he stared at the dark wizard with a mixture of shock and suspicion.

    Hermione, seizing the momentary gap, scrambled to her feet frantically waving her arms and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Go find our Ministry of Magic, we need support!"

    "Ministry of Magic, support!"

    Looking at the disheveled girl amidst the dust and debris, Krum was slightly taken aback. Then, with determination in his, he gave a curt nod, uttering a quick "Wait" before tilting his broomstick into a dive so steep it made the infamous Wronski Feint seem mild inparison.

    Mnov''s voice tinged with disdain cut through the ruckus. "Does Hogwarts only teach mice?" The sneer was audible even without seeing the dark wizard''s face.

    At first, Harry had been desperate to shake off Mnov and help Sirius, but now he had calmed down. Sirius was currently holding off two attackers by himself; if Harry approached, he would undoubtedly bring the third person to Sirius as well, which would only hinder him.

    The wisest course of action, he realized, was to use himself as bait to pin down the dark wizard called Mnov, under the cover of Charlie and Bill. If they could just hold out until reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic arrived, they would be victorious. It was a desperate gamble, but their options were rapidly dwindling.

    The quick thinking disyed by Harry and Hermione''s narrow escape seemed to push Mnov over the edge. The dark wizard''s anger was palpable, filling the air with an almost suffocating aura of malice. With a gruff shout of rage, Mnov''s signature weapon ¨C the long, snaking whip of darkness ¨C suddenly dissipated into its original ck smoke.

    But before anyone could feel a moment''s relief, the inky cknessbined once more to form an enormous. With terrifying speed, it swooped down towards Harry and the badly injured Bill and Charlie!

    In that instant, multiple spells zed through the air, all aimed straight at Mnov.

    <strong>"Diffindo!"</strong>

    <strong>"Expelliarmus!"</strong>

    <strong>"Confringo!"</strong>

    <strong>"Canrady Leviosa!"</strong>

    Everyone present knew the power of Mnov''s ck. Seeing Harry cornered with nowhere to dodge, Fred and George, Ginny and Ron, and even Fudge hiding by the wall, all lent a hand. Thebined power of so many spells forced Mnov to defend herself. Most of the magical assault was absorbed by hastily erected shields, but¡ª

    <em><strong>Whoosh!</strong></em>

    With a sound like tearing silk, a sharp piece of broken steel bar pierced through her magical shield, heading straight for her chest. In a life-or-death moment, Mnov threw herself to the side, but Hermione''s magically controlled object still prated her body, leaving a thumb-sized hole in her shoulder!

    <em><strong>Whoosh--</strong></em>

    A beam of dim, brilliant red light, wrapped in the aura of death, pierced the ck that hadn''t yet settled, easily shattering it. Mnov looked on in shock - it was Sirius who, in a gap between being surrounded by his twopanions, had fired a sting Curse (Confringo) to save Harry Potter.

    "Well done, Hermione!"

    Bill, leaning on his knee and panting, turned to give Hermione an approving look.

    Ron, his face slick with cold sweat and his lips dry from fear, found his voice.

    "Professor Watson''s charm," he said, a note of awe creeping into his words. "I can''t believe you thought of it, Hermione--"

    Seizing this brief moment of breather, Harry and Hermione gathered towards each other. They stood side by side, wands pointing firmly towards Mnov who had fallen to the ground, not daring to show the slightest carelessness.

    "What''s going on, Sys, Cancun!" Mnov''s voice rang out, filled with a mixture of pain and barely contained rage. The wound in the dark wizard''s shoulder didn''t seem to bother her much, a fact that sent a chill down Harry''s spine. She red towards the box where Sirius was still locked inbat with the other two attackers. "Why is he still alive?!"

    A grim voice floated back from that direction.

    "He''s a bit tougher than we imagined!"

    Mnov''s face twisted into a sneer of disgust. "Pah, this thing doesn''t even deserve to be called a wand--"

    She slowly stood up from the ground, coldly observing the wizards before her who had now united against amon enemy. Then, to everyone''s astonishment, she threw away her own wand!

    Harry and Hermione exchanged a confused nce. ''What was happening? Had theirbined efforts actually managed to break her spirit? Was this dark witch preparing to surrender?''

    But their hopes were dashed in the very next instant. A staff, easily three feet in length and adorned with a jewel-encrusted tip, suddenly appeared in Mnov''s hand.

    The change was immediate and terrifying. Mnov''s ordinary figure suddenly seemed to grow taller in the eyes of Harry and the others, and a feeling of suffocation suddenly came over them!

    The ck smoke that had been driftingzily through the air suddenly came alive. A sharp, dangerous light shed in Mnov''s eyes as she thrusted her palms forward. In an instant, the amorphous darknessbined once more ¨C but this time, it took the form of a whip crackling with Lightning, as ck as the darkest night, arcing and dancing along its length.

    With Mnov as the epicenter, countless bolts of shadow-wreathed lightning leapt forth. They spread in all directions, filling every corner of the box with their deadly presence. Wherever the ck lightning touched, it left behind horrifying scars and even the air seemed to carry the pungent stench of burned flesh.

    "Quick, dodge!" Harry''s shout cut through the chaos, his voice cracking with urgency. He threw himself to the side, desperately seeking shelter beneath an upturned section of flooring. But even his finely honed reflexes weren''t quite fast enough.

    A vine of ck lightning grazed his wrist, and in that split second of contact, it left behind a terrible burn. White-hot agony pricked up Harry''s arm, causing his fingers to spasm. In pain, his wand slipped from his grasp. It spun through the air, striking the back wall of the box with a tter before rolling across the floor.

    As the ck lightning continued its rampage, the steel frame supporting the main structure emitted a teeth-clenching metallic screech, a sound that set everyone''s nerves on edge. All around them, the walls began to buckle and copse, showering them with debris. Massive holes stretched open in the floor, revealing the dizzying drop to the Quidditch pitch far below. It was clear to all that this once-sturdy VIP box was about topletely copse.

    "Harry!" Sirius''s anguished cry pierced through the chaos of battle and the creaking of debris. His heart sank as he saw Harry trapped beneath the floorboard he''d sought for shelter, his face twisted in pain as he desperately fought to free himself.

    Across the ruined box, Hermione and the Weasley children each found themselves in equally dire straits, dodging falling debris and fending off attacks with rapidly dwindling strength.

    In that moment, something seemed to snap within Sirius. A primal roar erupted from his throat, echoing off the walls and momentarily drowning out even the noise of the battle and debris falling. He pointed his wand directly at a thick steel beam supporting the nearby section of the box''s structure.

    To the horror of the survivors, the beam was severed as cleanly as if cut by a giant''s axe. For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, with a groan that seemed to shake the foundations of the stadium, the surrounding supports began to twist and buckle. In the span of a few seconds, a chain reaction had been set in motion. Tons upon tons of steel, concrete, and magical reinforcements ¨C all the materials that had gone into creating this luxurious viewing box ¨C were now transformed into a deadly avnche about to crash down upon their heads.

    "Have you gone mad?!" The shout didn''te from Harry or Hermione, but from Sys and Cancun, the dark wizards who hadunched the initial attack. Even these hardened criminals had their faces bleached at Sirius''s Suicidal move. Their eyes flickered between the copsing ceiling and the open expanse of the Quidditch field. In the next moment, self-preservation overpowered their mission. Abandoning their assault on Sirius, they lunged toward the gaping hole in the wall, desperate to save their own skins.

    But Sirius paid no mind to their retreat, nor to the impending copse of the structure around him. His eyes, zing with fierce, almost manic determination, were fixed solely on Harry. With a roar that seemed to rise from the depths of his soul, Sirius charged forward. His wand became a blur of motion, hurling spell after spell at Mnov, despite his nearly depleted magical reserves.

    "Hmph, seeking death!"

    The storm of ck lightning suddenly converged, merging into a single, concentrated beam. Itnced out with the speed and precision of aser, aimed directly at the center of Sirius''s forehead.

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    The sound reverberated through the copsing box, as if the world itself had shattered. Sirius''s reckless charge also came to an abrupt halt, his feet freezing mid-step.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0436 Mystery

    0436 Mystery

    In the crumbling, withering world, a vibrant green barrier, shimmering like an emerald aurora, suddenly shattered into a million glimmering shards. These ethereal fragments, each pulsing with a soft magical glow, drifted upwards, gradually fading into the inky night sky like distant stars.

    Sirius stood frozen, his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest. A single droplet of sweat slid slowly from his furrowed brow down to the bridge of his nose. In a moment of dazed curiosity, he reached out with a trembling hand to touch it, half-expecting to feel the warm stickiness of blood. Instead, his fingertip met only the cool, sharp sensation of sweat.

    The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning: that moment, that fleeting instant when the green barrier had materialized, had been his closest brush with death yet.

    "Who''s there?!" Mnov''s harsh voice cut through the tense silence like a knife, her words dripping with a mixture of fury and fear. Her eyes, wild and searching, darted around the devastated box, seeking the source of the mysterious magic that had thwarted her attack.

    As if in response to her words, a gentle breeze began to stir, carrying with it a fresh, invigorating scent that seemed entirely out of ce in the chaos of the ruined stadium.

    Flowers,posed entirely of ethereal emerald light, bloomed out of thin air. These dreamlike blossoms took root amidst the debris and destruction. In a matter of seconds, they grew and transformed, morphing into sturdy vines as thick as a man''s arm. The magical flowers moved with purpose and intelligence, climbing upwards with surprising speed. They wrapped themselves firmly around each of the bending support beams.

    As the vines tightened their grip, a change came over the copsing world of the stadium box. The creaking and groaning of stressed metal gradually quieted, reced by an almost supernatural stillness.

    <strong>Hum¡ª</strong>

    Suddenly, a new phenomenon captured everyone''s attention. A single point of green light, norger than a firefly, appeared in the air directly in front of Sirius. But this was no ordinary light ¨C it pulsed and grew, emanating an aura of ancient, primal magic. Like a miniature ck hole, it began to draw countless brilliant green rays from nothingness.

    Amidst this blossoming light, ady wearing a cream-colored Muggle-style long dress and holding a grapevine staff slowly materialized.

    As this extraordinary scene unfolded, the Weasley brothers and Hermione had been working frantically to rescue Harry. With great effort, they finally managed to pull his unconscious body out from under the raft-like board that had fallen during the attack. Harry''s face was ashen but the slight rise and fall of his chest provided a glimmer of hope.

    Hermione, her hands shaking but her mind focused, was doing her best to stop the bleeding from Harry''s scorched arm. Beside her, Ginny had copsed onto Harry''s chest with loud, heart-wrenching sobs that echoed through the damaged box.

    However, the appearance of the mysteriousdy brought all activity to a sudden halt. As they all turned to stare in amazement at the woman who had materialized in such an extraordinary manner.

    "Mydy, was it you who saved me?" Sirius even forgot to run to Harry''s side, staring at the suddenly appeared woman with a shocked expression.

    "You''re not a witch!" Mnov, however, was far from impressed. Her eyes narrowed as she red at the hazy face of the woman who had appeared. Through gritted teeth, she spat out her words like venom. "Who do you work for, and why did you stop me?"

    Before anyone could respond to Mnov''s hostile interrogation, a new sound cut through the tense atmosphere.

    <strong>Whoosh-bang!</strong>

    With a resounding whoosh followed by a thunderous bang, a bunch of fireworks suddenly shot up from beneath the Quidditch pitch. They soared high into the night sky before exploding into a strange, intricate pattern.

    Seeing the pattern, Sys and Cancun''s expressions immediately changed. Hovering outside the box on the broomsticks, they shouted urgently at Mnov, who remained locked in a standoff with Cliodna.

    "It''s the signal to retreat, Mnov!" Sys called out, his voice tinged with desperation. "Let''s go!"

    "No!" But, Mnov yelled back in frustration, "That guy''s head is worth Ten thousand Galleons. I have to kill him; I was so close!"

    Sys and Cancun exchanged a look of disbelief. "Crazy Bitch!" Cancun muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

    In their line of work, no mission, no matter how lucrative, was more important than preserving their own lives. The woman who had suddenly appeared in the box exuded an aura of extraordinary power, and neither Sys nor Cancun had any desire to linger and find out just how formidable she might be. If Mnov insisted on pursuing those Ten-thousand Galleons at the risk of her own life, they were more than willing to let her face the consequences alone.

    Without a moment''s hesitation, Sys and Cancun kicked off hard, their brooms shooting upwards with a burst of speed. They leapt over the stands and disappeared into the velvet embrace of the night sky.

    Cliodna''s gaze never left Mnov as she addressed the now-isted dark witch. Her voice was calm and measured, without any hint of fear or uncertainty. "You''ve made an unwise decision¡ª" she said, as if merely stating a fact.

    Cliodna slowly raised her grapevine staff. The magical staff began to pulse with an inner light, It was clear she was preparing to take some action. But just as she was about to act, her movement suddenly froze. Her head turned sharply towards the railing outside the box, her emerald eyes narrowing as if sensing something.

    In that moment, a new voice came through.

    "Ginny!" The sound of Mr. Weasley''s concerned call echoed through the damaged box, causing everyone to flinch. His next words tumbled out in rapid session, each name tinged with worry, "Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, are you alright?"

    Before he even came into view, Mr. Weasley had already called out the names of all his children, his voice growing louder as he approached. The sound of rushing air announced his arrival, and finally, Arthur Weasley came into everyone''s view.

    His usually neat robes were inplete disarray, torn and scorched in ces. Two bloody red scratches stained his left cheek, still oozing small droplets of blood. His sparse hair, normally carefullybed over his balding pate, was now stered to his head with sweat, giving him a wild, disheveled appearance. As soon as Viktor Krum''s broomstick came to a halt, Mr. Weasley leapt off, his feet hitting the floor of the box with a solid thud.

    His eyes, wide with worry, scanned the scene before him. Only after confirming that all his children were indeed present and apparently unharmed did Mr. Weasley himself let out a slight sigh of relief. The tension in his shoulders visibly eased, but it was a short-lived breather.

    In the next instant, his gaze fell upon Harry''s prone form on the floor, and the brief moment of relief vanished. His face, which had just begun to rx, immediately tensed up again, lines of worry etching themselves deeply into his face.

    With the experience of a man ustomed to assessing dangerous situations, Mr. Weasley quickly took stock of the scene. In an extremely short time, he had judged who the enemy was in this box. His wand arm shot out, pointing directly at Mnov, while he turned his head slightly towards the group of children surrounding Harry.

    "What happened?" he asked, his voice tight with concern. "How''s Harry''s condition?"

    "He was hit by a rock, Dad!" Fred exined hurriedly, his voice cracking slightly with stress. "But he should still be alive!"

    As Mr. Weasley processed this information, Sirius seized the opportunity to gather more intelligence about the situation. "How''s it looking downstairs, Arthur?" he asked urgently. Then, realizing someone was missing, he added, "Where''s Percy?"

    "The spectators are being evacuated," Mr. Weasley informed. "That firework we saw just now should be the agreed signal for these attackers to retreat. They''re all withdrawing, and our people are in pursuit." He paused for a breath before adding, "Percy is with Barty, helping to evacuate the spectators!"

    Sirius nodded grimly, absorbing the information. His eyes hardened as he turned back to face Mnov, his wand never wavering from its target. "Well then¡ª" he said, his voice low and dangerous, "The tables have turned. Now it''s two or three of us against one." His lips curled into a humorless smile as heid out the options. "You have two choices: put down your wand and surrender, or continue to resist and die here. Make your choice!"

    Mnov''s response was as cold as ice, her voice dripping with disdain. "I''m sorry¡ª" she said, though there was no hint of apology in her tone. "I don''t want either of those options!"

    Just as the tension in the room reached its breaking point, threatening to explode into violence, an unexpected voice cut through the standoff. "Whoever can capture this dark wizard," came the gasping announcement, "I''ll apply for them to receive a First ss Order of Merlin from the International Confederation of Wizards!"

    All eyes turned to see Fudge struggling to lift the heavy wooden board that had been pressing down on him. His face was red with exertion, and he was holding his forehead as if nursing a painful headache. It seemed he had just regained consciousness.

    Despite the Minister''s dramatic offer, Mnov paid no attention to Sirius or the newly arrived Mr. Weasley. Her cold gaze was fixed only on Cliodna, who seemed unrted to everything happening here.

    "I''ll ask one more time," Mnov said, her voice low and menacing. "Who exactly are you, and why did you appear here!"

    This question, dripping with suspicion and barely concealed caution, wasn''t just intriguing to Mnov. Every person in the box was curious about the mysterious woman who had appeared so dramatically in their midst.

    <em>''Who exactly was this seemingly very powerful youngdy, and why did she appear here? Which country''s witch was she, and why, despite saving Sirius and potentially all their lives, was she so reluctant to reveal her true face?''</em>

    The youngdy who had be the focus of everyone''s attention remained silent in the face of these unspoken questions. Instead, she moved her feet slightly, slowly walking towards Harry.

    Seeing this, Hermione spread her arms wide in a gesture of defense. "What... what are you going to do?" she asked nervously, her voice trembling slightly.

    Although thisdy with the unique demeanor had undoubtedly saved Sirius and quite possibly all their lives, her unknown background and mysterious appearance still didn''t allow Hermione to lower her guardpletely.

    "The wound on his arm needs to be treated immediately, or it will be very troublesome¡ª" Cliodna said calmly.

    Prompted by her words, Ron and the others immediately looked down at Harry. As they did, a collective gasp of horror escaped their lips.

    Previously, the wound on Harry''s arm had appeared to be just a nasty scorch mark. Now, however, the situation had taken a dire turn. The burn had spread rmingly, creeping up Harry''s arm like some living thing. The wound was bleeding profusely the crimson liquid seeping through Hermione''s makeshift bandage and pooling on the floor beneath him. But it was the color of the wound itself that was truly horrifying ¨C where once there had been bloody red flesh, now there was only a deep, unnatural ck.

    The sight of the wound, coupled with the memory of the middle-aged wizard''s fate after colliding with Mnov earlier, caused everyone''s face to turn pale with fear.

    "Please... please help him, I beg you!" Hermione, terrified by Harry''s wound, quickly made way, her tone pleading.

    Cliodna gently moved her staff, and Harry''s limp body floated up from the ground effortlessly,ing to rest before her.

    Emerald light, the same vibrant hue as the barrier that had saved Sirius, blossomed from Cliodna''s fingertips. It swept over Harry''s wound like a gentle tide, effortlessly erasing the magic of death and evil that had taken root there.

    In a matter of seconds, the skin on Harry''s arm became smooth once more. As the wound healed, color returned to Harry''s face. By the time his feet gently touched the ground again, he had already opened his hazy green eyes.

    "Oh, Harry!" Hermione''s exmation was half sob, halfugh as she covered her mouth, tears of relief and joy streaming down her face. The emotional rollercoaster of the past few minutes had taken its toll on her.

    Ron, his freckled face a mixture of concern and tion, immediately leaned in close to Harry. "Mate, how are you feeling?" he asked anxiously, his eyes scanning Harry''s face for any signs of lingering pain or confusion. "You gave us a right scare there!"

    Harry blinked several times, his mind struggling to catch up with the rapidly unfolding events around him. His eyes were clouded with confusion as he tried to piece together what had happened. "What..." he began, his voice hoarse and uncertain, "What happened?"

    Mr. Weasley, still maintaining his defensive stance with his wand raised, quickly interjected, "It was this youngdy who saved you, Harry!"

    "Oh, thank you¡ª" The dazed Harry didn''t immediately notice the unfamiliardy beside him. Only after Mr. Weasley''s reminder did he turn his gaze towards her. At first nce, Harry''s brow suddenly furrowed. He blinked hard; his eyes filled with confusion.

    "You''re wee, Mr. Harry Potter¡ª" Cliodna nodded slightly. Her consistently calm tone now rippled with a hint of urgency, "Now that you''ve regained your health, I have a bold request."Would you be willing to apany me somewhere?"

    <em>''Apany somewhere?''</em>

    Harry''s blinking increased in speed and intensity, a clear indication that his mind was rapidly clearing of the fog that had enveloped it.

    <em>''What did she mean? </em>

    <em>''Where did this mysteriousdy want to invite Harry to go?''</em>

    Everyone in the box was bewildered by this unexpected turn of events. They stared at the mysterious and powerfuldy in confusion, not understanding what she was talking about.

    The Weasleys exchanged worried nces, while Hermione''s brow furrowed in deep thought, as if trying to recall some crucial piece of information that might exin this bizarre situation.

    Suddenly, a harshugh cut through the tension.

    "Ha, I understand now!" Mnov''s voice rang out, dripping with a mixture of triumph and bitterness. Her eyes gleamed with a manic light as she focused her gaze on Cliodna. "Your target is Harry Potter, isn''t it?" she used as a cruel smile appeared on her lips. "Our goals don''t conflict, do they? We can work together!"

    But before anyone could react to Mnov''s words, a sh of realization suddenly crossed Harry''s face. His eyes widened in shock, and a look of panic began to spread across his face. "It''s you," he gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "I remember you now, you''re the woman from my dream!"

    <em>''Dream? What did this mean now?''</em>

    Cliodna frowned slightly. She too didn''t understand what Harry Potter was saying, but Sirius did.

    "Get away from that woman, Harry!"

    Sirius let out the loudest roar of the night.

    Time seemed to slow to a crawl in that moment, as if the universe itself was holding its breath. Sirius, Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Charlie all lunged toward Harry, their faces twisted with urgency and fear. Harry himself, jolted into action by Sirius''s cry, began to retreat, his body finally catching up with the rm bells ringing in his mind. But what should have been a swift escape felt agonizingly slow, as if he were moving through thickened air.

    Cliodna effortlessly caught Harry''s arm in a grip that was both gentle and unbreakable. Her raised grapevine wand was already glowing faintly as the air around her and Harry began to shimmer with signs of imminent apparition.

    But just then, a blinding bolt of lightning suddenly shed across the clear night sky, illuminating the entire Quidditch pitch in stark, brilliant white light.

    In the wake of the lightning, the atmosphere in the box began to change. The air, which had been stagnant with tension and fear, suddenly began to tremble. It was as if an immense, invisible weight was pressing down on everything and everyone. Under this heavy, oppressive force, gravity-like streams materialized in the air. These visible currents of power flowed from top to bottom, firmly pinning everyone, including Cliodna, in ce.

    Then, the voice that followed, echoing throughout the entire Quidditch pitch, made even Cliodna''s emerald eyes widen in panic.

    "It''s been a while, Miss Cliodna¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0437 Their Duel (Part-1)

    0437 Their Duel (Part-1)

    The crushing pressure descended like a tidal wave, its invisible weight bearing down on the Quidditch pitch with an almost palpable force. The spectators who hadn''t yet managed to evacuate felt their breath catch in their throats, their faces draining of color as if all the blood had suddenly rushed from their heads.

    In their dazed state, it seemed as though a colossal, prehistoric dragon had emerged from the roiling clouds above, its massive, scaled head filling the entirety of the sky. The imaginary beast''s presence was so overwhelming that many swore they could hear its thunderous roar echoing across the heavens, making the tiny human figures below feel utterly insignificant inparison.

    "Bryan!"

    As that powerful voice reverberated through the air, Sirius felt an instantaneous change wash over him. The tension that had been coiled tightly in every fiber of his being suddenly rxed, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. An indescribable sense of relief flooded through him.

    For what felt like an eternity, Sirius had been facing down several dark wizards of unknown origin and immense power,pletely alone. The safety of all the children ¨C not just Harry, but every young witch and wizard present ¨C had rested on his shoulders, a burden so immense it had almost crushed him.

    Harry, Ron, and the others likewise broke into expressions of wild joy. Hermione and Ginny even covered their mouths, sobbing with happiness.

    A piercing whoosh followed, cutting through the air with a sound like that of a Muggle jet ne streaking across the sky at full throttle. Though the familiar figure they all longed to see had not yet appeared, the sharp whistle of his approach already exerted a mountain-like pressure on the two wizards standing opposite the group.

    "Bryan Watson!" Mnov''s voice sounded as if it was being forcibly squeezed from her throat. At this moment, she finally stopped hesitating. Taking advantage of Sirius and Mr. Weasley''s momentary distraction, she turned and made a desperate dash towards the gaping hole that had been sted in the box wall earlier. But she had barely taken two frantic steps when a point of brilliant golden fire materialized in the boundless darkness beyond the opening, instantly traversing the vast distance.

    <strong>ng!</strong>

    The sound rang out as a ming spear embedded itself in the ground directly in front of Mnov. If she hadn''t instinctively sidestepped at the veryst instant it would have impaled her chest, ending her life in a heartbeat. But before the fleeting spark of relief could even begin to fade from her wide, startled eyes, the spear stuck in the ground began to vibrate. In an instant, it lost its solid form, softening and splitting into multiple strands of golden fire. Before Mnov could react, a golden cocoon of fire hadpletely enveloped her!

    <em>''How could Bryan Watson possibly be here?''</em>

    Cliodna had been monitoring Harry all day, confirming that Bryan Watson wasn''t with Sirius''s group. Combined with this sudden chaos, she wouldn''t have acted otherwise.

    Now, however, it was pointless to dwell on Watson''s unexpected appearance. The urgent matter was to escape first!

    ncing once more at Harry, who stood so close by, regret shed across Cliodna''s green eyes. In the next instant, her body''s outline began to blur and distort. Like a meteor streaking across the night sky, trailing a luminous tail of vivid green energy, she shot upward from the top box of the Quidditch stadium towards the now-seething night sky!

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    A sound like the ringing of a colossal bell reverberated through the night air. Like a massive boulder thrown into ake, a tangible shockwave swept outward with devastating force, rippling through the air in all directions. As it passed through the green meteor trail left by Cliodna, the emerald energy instantly dissipated.

    Cliodna, her escape thwarted, was forced to reveal her true form in midair. She plummeted falling nearly half a mile towards the ground before finally managing to steady herself. When atst she regained control, she found herself hovering at the same height as the towering goal hoops used by the Irish team during the match.

    As Cliodna straightened up, her eyes widening in a mixture of resignation and steely resolve, she saw that a solemn-faced young man was already standing on top of the goal hoop on the opposite side of the pitch, smiling as he looked at her.

    "It''s been a long time, Mr. Watson¡ª" Cliodna''s melodious voice carried across the vast expanse between them, tinged with a note of mncholy. Her skirts fluttered in the magical currents that swirled around her, and her beautiful face was etched with a faint but unmistakable gloom. Abandoning anyst, desperate hope of luck, she sighed softly and nodded towards Bryan.

    Bryan''s gaze swept over the chaotic scene unfolding on the pitch far below. Tens of thousands of spectators who hadn''t yet managed to evacuate had stopped in their tracks. They were staring up at the sky in shock, whispering to theirpanions.

    "Bryan!" Sirius''s voice cut through the noise. He rushed to the box railing, leaning out as far as he dared, he shouted up at the young wizard standing on top of the goal hoop, whose mere presence seemed to radiate a heavy, oppressive pressure that nketed a vast area.

    "This woman," Sirius continued, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and barely contained fury, "she tried to kidnap Harry!"

    Bryan didn''t turn to face Sirius, acknowledging the urgent message with only a slight nod of his head, as if not particrly surprised. In reality, though, he was quite shocked to see Cliodna here.

    Ever since learning from Fawley about Lucius''s grandiose prank nned for tonight, Bryan hadn''t wasted a single moment. He had apparated directly to a nearby area he was familiar with. From there, he had flown at breakneck speed, covering the remaining distance to the vicinity of the campsite. The magical reaction he sensed upon barging into the scene was so intense, that for a fleeting moment, Bryan wondered if he must be hallucinating.

    "It''s been a while Miss Cliodna¡ª" Bryan''s voice was calm as he inclined his head slightly wearing a gentlemanly smile. "Since our hasty partingst time, I''ve been hoping for an opportunity to see you again. I searched in vain for quite some time, never expecting to encounter you in a ce like this, under such... unusual circumstances. What a delightful coincidence, wouldn''t you agree?"

    Down below, Ron''s eyes were as wide as saucers, his freckled face was filled with confusion as he struggled to make sense of the bizarre scene unfolding above them. "What in Merlin''s name is going on?!" he eximed, his voice cracking slightly. "This woman... is she some kind of friend of Professor Watson''s?"

    "Oh, for heaven''s sake, Ron!" Hermione snapped, her patience wearing thin in the face of their dire situation. "Use that brain of yours for once! Does this look like a friendly reunion to you?"

    "I''m afraid I know about as much as you do, Mr. Watson¡ª"

    Now regretting tonight''s actions was useless. Cliodna had regained herposure, staring at Bryan. Her voice returned to its usual unruffled state.

    "I regret that I cannot provide answers to any of your questions, regardless of how much you might desire them."

    "I''m afraid that answer simply won''t suffice, Miss Cliodna¡ª" Bryan''s expression cooled noticeably. He merely flexed his wrist, and the cool evening air of mid-tote August instantly became scorching hot. It was as if a huge furnace had appeared above the Quidditch pitch, baking everything around it. Bryan nced again at the wizards watching the spectacle.

    "As you may or may not be aware, I am currently employed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Given the gravity of our current situation, might I have the honor of extending an invitation for you to visit the school? I believe we have much to discuss, and Hogwarts would provide an... appropriate setting for such a conversation."

    "I doubt there''s anyone in this world who could face both you and Albus Dumbledore at the same time¡ª"

    The scorching wind ruffled Cliodna''s green hair. This Druid priestess, whose face looked even younger than Bryan''s, pulled her lips into a bitter smile.

    She paused for a moment, seeming to weigh her words carefully before continuing.

    "I understand your anger, Mr. Watson, And I recognize the depth of your determination to resolve the questions that must be guing you. But I truly cannot provide you with the answers you seek, no matter how much you might wish it otherwise. I offer my sincerest apologies for the... unpleasantness that transpired before. However," her eyes hardened, a steely resolve settling over her delicate features, "if you insist on attempting to detain me here, I''m afraid I''ll have no choice but to tender yet another apology."

    Bryan, for his part, hadn''t really expected Cliodna to surrender without putting up a fight. His primary concern throughout this tense standoff had been for the lives of the remaining unevacuated wizards scattered throughout the Quidditch stadium. However, Cliodna proved far more decisive ¨C and far more reckless ¨C than he had imagined.

    After confirming that she couldn''t hope to leave smoothly, her eyes suddenly became resolute. In a move that caught even Bryan off-guard, She leapt from the top of the goal hoop and, amid the gasps of countless watching wizards, let her body fall freely towards the ground. At the same time, she hurled her grapevine wand towards the earth!

    <strong>Boom! Boom! Boom!</strong>

    Lightning suddenly shed across the cloudless night sky. Dazzling, deafening bolts of lightning split the dark sky, striking towards the Quidditch pitch.

    The moment Cliodna''s grapevine staff sank into the pitch, an astounding transformation began. The emerald grass suddenly sprang to life. It began to grow at an impossible rate, stretching upwards with such speed that the human eye could scarcely track its progress. In the space of a few heartbeats, the once-clear pitch had been wholly consumed, reced by an undting ''jungle'' of towering grasses and creeping vines that seemed to possess a will of their own.

    <strong>Rumble¡ª</strong>

    A low, ominous rumble began to build from deep within the earth, growing in intensity with each passing second. The ground beneath their feet began to shake violently, the tremors growing stronger and more erratic with each passing moment.

    The Quidditch stadium, its very foundations rocked by the unnatural quake, began to tremble fiercely. From high above, a rain of destruction began to fall. Broken bs of stone, splintered wooden seats, and great sheets of roofing material rained down like a torrential downpour, showering the terrified spectators below. Panicked cries filled the air as people scrambled for cover, their hands raised futilely above their heads in a desperate attempt to ward off the deadly hail.

    Sirius, still pressed against the railing, was so shocked his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. From the now-unrecognizable grass field below, an enormous green vine suddenly burst forth from the earth. It grewrger with each passing second, swelling and stretching as if devouring some unseen magical energy. This verdant monstrosity expanded at an rming rate, quickly dwarfing everything around it. In a matter of moments, it had grown to truly colossal proportions, its girth ten times thicker than the Whomping Willow on the edge of the Hogwarts grounds!

    As the onlookers watched in stunned silence, the vine''s rapid growth showed no signs of slowing. When it had reached a height, the main stem began to undergo a startling transformation. With a series of sickening cracks that echoed across the stadium, the massive trunk began to split. What had been a single column of massive trunk suddenly became two, then four, the process of division elerated with each passing second. In the blink of an eye, a wriggling forest of thick vines had sprung to life, thick vines swaying at their ends as they filled the vast expanse of the Quidditch pitch.

    "I must be dreaming..." Mr. Weasley''s voice was barely more than a whisper, his eyes were wide with a mixture of awe and terror, unable to tear his gaze away from the impossible scene unfolding before him.

    The young wizards huddled in the box ¨C every single one of them, including the Genius Seeker Viktor Krum, who hadn''t even had a chance to properly introduce himself to Hermione ¨C were frozen in ce as if struck by a particrly powerful Petrification Charm. They stood motionless, their jaws ck and eyes wide, unable to do anything but stare at the enormous vines that now dominated thendscape of the pitch.

    With each sweeping movement, the colossal nts stirred up howling gales strong enough to uproot trees. The psychological pressure exerted by this disy of raw, unbridled magical power was almost palpable.

    From the bottom of the stadium, a wave of distressed cries rose up, cutting through the noise of destruction. The spectators who had lingered too long, their curiosity overriding their sense of self-preservation, now found themselves in mortal danger. As the reality of their situation finally sank in, panic took hold. The crowd surged towards the exits in a frenzied stampede, all thoughts of civility or orderly evacuation were long forgotten. In the chaos that ensued, wails of those trampled underfoot mingled with desperate cries for lost loved ones and angry shouts of those fighting to clear a path to safety. The once-festive atmosphere of the Quidditch World Cup had devolved into a nightmarish scene of terror and confusion.

    "We can''t stay here any longer!" Sirius''s voice cut through the pandemonium, sharp with urgency. Having witnessed Bryan''s grand disys of power before, he was perhaps better prepared than most to grasp the true gravity of their situation. His eyes, wild with a mixture of fear and determination, swept over every wizard in the box who still drew breath. "Hurry!" he growled, his tone brooking no argument. "We need to get downstairs immediately! Staying here is nothing short of a death sentence!"

    As Sirius herded the shell-shocked group towards the exit, Mr. Weasley took charge of moving the children. With more strength than his usually amiable demeanor might suggest, he roughly pushed Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the others out of the box. But just as he was about to follow them, a sudden realization stopped him in his tracks.

    "Wait!" he called out, causing Sirius to turn around with a look of exasperation. "What about this one?" Mr. Weasley jerked his head towards Mnov, still trapped within the shimmering cage of magical fire.

    Despite the urgency of their situation, Mr. Weasley''s keen mind hadn''t lost sight of the bigger picture. Judging by Mnov''s distinctive attire, she was clearly an aplice of the mysterious group that hadunched the attack earlier. If they could somehow take her with them, there was a chance they might be able to extract valuable information.

    The previous battle had taken a severe toll on Sirius. His body was full of injuries, with blood seeping from numerous wounds and staining his once-fine robes a deep crimson. The effort of simply remaining upright was clearly taxing him to his limits. Yet, as he turned his gaze upon Mnov, his grey eyes zed with a mixture of disgust and determination.

    Finally, with a grimace of pain and effort, Sirius raised his wand. With aplex series of gestures, he manipted the floor beneath Mnov to separate and carry her out of the box.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    High above the mayhem, Bryan remained calm amidst the storm. Each swing of the colossal, swaying vines stirred up gales of such ferocity that they could have easily blown away boulders on t ground. Yet Bryan stood firm on top of the goal hoop with only his hair whipping wildly in the fierce wind.

    Cliodna, standing at one of the massive vines she had conjured, had still notunched an attack, and the stern-faced Bryan likewise showed great restraint. They were both waiting.

    Finally, when the group from the highest box had also went down to the ground floor and rushed into the tunnel with thest of the fleeing crowd, Bryan made a move. He twisted his neck, producing a series of crackling sounds.

    "Interesting¡ª"

    Bryan''s expressionless face lifted slightly at the corners, a faint smile tinged with bloodthirst.

    "The Birth of the Tree World, is it?" His soft chant was almost immediately swallowed by the raging wind that howled around them.

    For the briefest of moments, all was still. It was as if the entire world held its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Then, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, everything changed.

    Beneath the inky canvas of the night sky, a zing sun began to rise.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0438 Their Duel (Part-2)

    0438 Their Duel (Part-2)

    The wizards fleeing the Quidditch stadium in all directions were stunned to witness the deep, inky night sky suddenly torn apart by an incredibly brilliant light, illuminating everything as bright as the most radiant summer day. Turning back in astonishment, their eyes widened in disbelief as they observed an intensely radiant sun, its surface roiling with golden mes, slowly rising above the dpidated Quidditch pitch. This celestial anomaly emanated a heavy, oppressive aura that seemed to press down upon their very souls, making breathing difficult and movementborious.

    <strong>Boom! Boom! Boom!</strong>

    The thunderous sounds reverberated through the air, shaking the ground beneath their feet. Before one of the fleeing wizards stumbled and fell, the two opposing figures stood speechless.

    Having made her decision, Cliodna knew there was no turning back. A look of determination shed in her green eyes. Every writhing vine upying the Quidditch pitch appeared to be an extension of her very limbs. Under her mentalmand, these massive, terrifying vines - each as thick as an ancient oak and covered in thorns sharp enough to pierce dragonhide - suddenly sprang into action with a life of their own. They simultaneously straightened their twisted trunks and, with an air of earth-shattering destruction that sent tremors through the ground, smashing towards the airborne Bryan Watson with the force of a hundred battering rams!

    At that moment, Bryan resembled the legendary Phoenix from Muggle mythology reborn in its most glorious form. The Fiendfyre surrounding him had transformed into a searing inferno of terrible heat, its mes dancing in hues of red, orange, and blue that hurt the eyes to look upon directly.

    Faced with the thorny vines attacking from all directions, his eyes suddenly red with a fiery determination that matched the inferno surrounding him. The intense heat contained around his form erupted in a powerful wave, radiating outward in all directions like the st from an exploding star.

    The vines controlled by Cliodna, formidable as they were, couldn''t withstand even a moment after entering the ''sun''s'' domain. They instantly lost their vibrant green color, scorched into nothingness faster than the eye could follow. The nt matterbusted so thoroughly that not even ashes remained behind, leaving only wisps of pungent smoke to mark their passing.

    However, the ancient Druid legacy, passed down through countless generations and honed over millennia, had its own wonders to reveal. The vines sprouted again from the scarred and ckened ground, seemingly endless.

    Where the ''sun''s'' domain shed fiercely with the ever-regenerating vines, bolts of lightning as bright as magnesium res erupted, apanied by incredibly powerful gusts of wind that howled like a banshee''s wail.

    The ''miracle structure'' that the Ministry of Magic had painstakingly built over half a year, pouring countless galleons and man-hours into its construction, proved tragically fragile under the onught of lightning, wind, and temperatures hot enough to melt stone. It copsed piece by piece, each section giving way with a groan of twisting metal and shattering wood that added to the synergy of destruction.

    The violent magical impact caused every inch of space within the stadium to shake violently. To the terrified onlookers, the Quidditch pitch became a blur of chaos, as if viewed through a veil of shimmering heat. The only clear sight amidst the turmoil was the ''sun'' suspended high in the sky, and within it, a figure as majestic and terrible as a wrathful celestial god!

    The fleeing crowd stopped in their tracks, unable to tear their eyes away from the spectacle unfolding before them. In the surrounding forest, the faint shes of camera bulbs kept appearing as brave (or foolish) journalists attempted to capture the historic moment. Sirius and Mr. Weasley led the children away from the pitch to higher ground, constantly ncing back to ensure no one was left behind. Only when the overwhelming pressure behind them became less oppressive, allowing them to breathe more freely, did they finally stop to catch their breath.

    The earth cracked inch by inch, fissures spreading like a spider''s web across the once-primeval grounds. A stray bolt of lightning, more powerful than any natural phenomenon, arced from the pitch and struck the wizards'' campsite with devastating uracy. In an instant, as if a severe gas explosion had urred, everything within a hundred feet of the lightning strike was torn to nothingness by the st wave, leaving behind a smoking crater where tents and belongings had once stood.

    Bill leaning against a pine tree for support, wore an expression of utter disbelief that bordered on theical. His mouth hung open in a perfect ''O'' of shock, but his chest wasn''t moving ¨C he had forgotten to breathe in his astonishment. Only when his face turned an rming shade of red did Bille to his senses and take a few deep, shuddering breaths. Then, moving as if his neck had rusted solid, he stiffly turned his head to look at his brother Charlie, his eyes wide and questioning.

    "Was that just now... Bryan Watson?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    "I''m not quite sure either--" Charlie shook his head and replied sincerely, his normally ruddy face pale beneath its freckles, wearing an equallyical expression of ck-jawed amazement.

    "Oh, this is nothingpared to the grand spectacles I''ve seen, glug glug--"

    The amusing exchange between Charlie and Bill didn''t prompt the others to speak. They remained rooted by the Duel before them. However, an old but surprisingly lively voice that suddenly sounded behind them made Harry and his group turn their heads.

    The source of the voice was an elderly man whose skin sagged and was covered with age spots and many dark brown blemishes. What was most surprising was that while everyone around was utterly shocked into silence by the duel taking ce in the Quidditch pitch, this old man didn''t seem particrly surprised. He even had the presence of mind ¨C or perhaps the ingrained habit ¨C to take regr swigs from his bottle of rum.

    Noticing the astonishment in everyone''s eyes, the old man grinned, revealing a set of surprisingly white teeth. He exhaled a pungent breath that smelled strongly of firewhisky as he chuckled, "If you had witnessed the duel of the century between Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald in Paris half a century ago, you wouldn''t be so shocked by what''s happening now. Though I must admit, this is quite a spectacle too!"

    Hermione frowned, her quick mind analyzing the old man''s words even in the midst of chaos. The elderly wizard seemed a bit muddled, having just said that Professor Watson and the mysterious woman''s duel was nothing special, only to change his tune in the next breath.

    "Ah, Elphias, I didn''t expect to see you here!" Sirius blinked rapidly, as if unable to believe his eyes.

    "Sirius!" The old wizard called Elphias chuckled again, a sound strangely cheerful given the circumstances. "I''ve heard you''ve been proven innocent!"

    "Elphias Doge, he''s a good friend of Dumbledore''s--" Sirius exined briefly to Harry, who didn''t know the old wizard and was looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Then, an expression of genuine curiosity crossed Sirius''s face, momentarily recing the worry and fear, "What brings you here, Elphias?"

    "Oh, to watch the World Cup, of course!" Elphias took another hearty swig from his sk. "And then I ran into this damned terror attack. Speaking of which, I heard that young man putting on such an impressive light show is Bryan Watson. My eyesight isn''t what it used to be, can''t see clearly without my spectacles. You were colleagues with him at Hogwarts, weren''t you, Sirius? Is it really him?"

    "It is indeed him, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry''s Head of Student Safety Office, Bryan Watson--"

    "Oh, looks like Albus found himself a worthy sessor!" Elphias said cheerfully.

    <strong>Booom</strong>

    Every second that the sun domain was maintained, magic poured out of Bryan like water from a breached dam. Even Bryan was visibly struggling to hold on after two minutes of sustained output. Beads of sweat formed on his brow only to instantly evaporate in the intense heat surrounding him. But as his piercing gaze cut through the brilliant light towards Cliodna, whose emerald hair danced wildly in the magical storm, he found that the woman''s eyes remained utterly determined, without even a hint of wavering.

    This was "unscientific."

    How could a mere twenty-something-year-old witch possess such profound power? How could she stand against him without showing any signs of fatigue or strain? Confusion shed in Bryan''s eyes, clouding his usually sharp gaze. In his dismay, he momentarily forgot that he himself was equally anomalous.

    A war of attrition was definitely not what Bryan wanted or had nned for. He knew all too well that other dangers might be lurking in the darkness, waiting for an opportunity to strike.

    The fierceness in Bryan''s sharp gaze intensified, his eyes narrowing to slits as he came to a decision. In the next second, the sr ring enveloping his body trembled slightly, its surface rippling like the disturbed surface of a pond. Then, gradually it began to descend towards the ruined earth below.

    <strong>Hum!</strong>

    The sound that emanated from the descending sun was felt more than heard, a bone-deep vibration that set teeth on edge and caused the very air to shimmer.

    It was as if the sun was bathing the sea ¨C a cmity for all living beings, the herald of an extinction-level event!

    Cliodna''s expression shifted abruptly, her eyes widening in a rare disy of shock¡ªand perhaps, for the first time, fear. In her view, as Bryan Watson descended to the earth wrapped in that miniature sun, it was as if heaven and earth were shattering at that very moment. The very foundations of reality seemed to tremble, magical energy saturating the air to such a degree that it became visible as shimmering waves of heat and light.

    The invisible sh of magical forces instantly intensified several times over, the pressure in the air bing so immense that it threatened to crush anyone foolish enough to approach. The vines that had previously been able to resist the scorching heat now melted at the slightest touch, like snow meeting the full fury of a summer sun. They withered and died faster than Cliodna could regrow them, her control over the nt life faltering in the face of this overwhelming power.

    Everything in sight took on a faint red hue, as if the world itself was blushing in the presence of such formidable magic. Even Cliodna''s face was flushed from the intense heat, beads of sweat forming on her brow only to evaporate instantly. ncing at her flying hair, she saw with dismay that her once-lustrous emerald locks were turning scorched and brittle. Under the relentless baking of the scorching sr wind, the steel framework of the Quidditch pitch constantly emitted cracking sounds.

    The ground itself couldn''t escape the sun''s wrath. After the seaweed-like green grass was burned to nothing in an instant, leaving not even ashes behind,yers of yellowish soil were exposed to the merciless heat. But even this was not spared. The earth itself began to melt, the soil liquefying and being stripped away by the searing magical power,yer afteryer, revealing the bedrock beneath.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0439 Their Duel (Part-3)

    0439 Their Duel (Part-3)

    Bryan descended towards the earth enveloped by a ring of zing sunlight that turned night into day. Though his descent was gradual, each inch of his progress carried with it an unstoppable sense of pressure. The colossal vines, as thick as ancient tree trunks and deeply rooted in the earth, wriggled and twisted in futile resistance against the overwhelming heat emanating from Bryan''s sr cocoon.

    Starting from their uppermost tendrils, the vines began to wither and crack. The process was agonizingly slow yet persistent spreading downward inch by excruciating inch. Simultaneously, the earth itself seemed to recoil from the intense heat. Layers of soil and rock peeled away like the skin of an overripe fruit, exposing the source of the vines'' formidable power¡ªthe ancestral grapevine Staff passed down through countless generations of Druids.

    Bryan''s gaze locked upon the peculiar emerald-green staff emanating mysterious power. His eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly as his mind shed back to his first encounter with Cliodna, recalling how even then, he had sensed something extraordinary about the Staff she wielded. Now, face to face with its shown power, he realized his initial judgment had been correct, perhaps even an underestimation.

    The protective barrier surrounding Cliodna was now like a mirage in the desert heat. It could no longer withstand the all-pervasive heat that threatened to reduce everything to ash. Sweat rolled down Cliodna''s face as she gritted her teeth in a grimace of pain and determination. Under the relentless onught of Bryan''s overwhelming magical force, she finally began to feel overwhelmed.

    The sun ring illuminating the night sky had approached a dangerously close distance. If left unchecked, Cliodna knew with certainty that she would be reduced to nothing more than wisps of smoke in a matter of heartbeats, sharing the fate of her decimated vines under the surging heat.

    Cliodna''s emerald eyes, usually brimming with confidence and power, now held a mixture of emotions as she gazed upon the young figure within the sun ring. Despite his youthful appearance, Bryan''s contemptuous look spoke volumes about the vast gulf in their abilities.

    A glimmer of regret shed across Cliodna''s face. Her mind raced, reying not just the rash actions of this fateful night, but also her ill-fated journey to Avalon Ind. If only she had been more tactful in requesting Bryan Watson''s help then, perhaps she might have secured his aid without incurring the wrath of this immensely powerful wizard.

    As these thoughts tumbled through her mind, a dangerous glint appeared in Cliodna''s eyes. She realized, with a jolt of hope, that she still held a trump card - leverage over Bryan Watson that could potentially turn the tide of this confrontation.

    Watson was the notorious bounty wizard of the underworld - Golden Viper. While a select few in the upper echelons of the Wizarding world might be aware of this information, it was far frommon knowledge. Watson definitely wouldn''t want his dark identity exposed. If his activities as the Golden Viper were to be public, his carefully cultivated reputation would crumble to dust in an instant.

    For a breathless moment, Cliodna had the idea of using this information to ckmail Bryan Watson into letting her go free. However, after a brief yet intense internal struggle, she reluctantly abandoned the notion.

    Unless she found herself with absolutely no other option, Cliodna knew she couldn''t bring herself to make such a decision. To do so would be tantamount to pushing Bryan Watson into a position ofplete opposition - not just against her personally, but potentially against the entire Druid Order. The consequences of such an action could be catastrophic, bringing down Watson''s furious wrath upon them all.

    Moreover, In the eyes of the Wizarding world, Bryan Watson was regarded as the greatest wizard of the current age, hand-picked by Albus Dumbledore himself as his chosen sessor. If the shocking truth about Watson''s identity as the Golden Viper were to be revealed, what stance would Albus Dumbledore take?

    Would he sacrifice Watson for the greater good, or would he be furious at the embarrassment?

    If Dumbledore chose the former path, Cliodna might indeed get a temporary reprieve. However, if thetter proved true, it would undoubtedly spell utter disaster for both her and her sect. Although the kidnapping of Harry Potter had equally offended these two powerful Wizards, Cliodna clung to a sliver of hope. As long as the Boy Who Lived was alive, there remained a possibility, however slim, of eventual reconciliation.

    As these conflicting thoughts and strategies raced through her mind with dizzying speed, Cliodna made a decision. With a surge, she reached out with her magical senses, probing the depths of the earth beneath her feet. The hand she had concealed within the ground earlier swiftly returned to her waiting palm. As her fingers closed around the warm, living wood of the Staff, Cliodna felt a rush offorting energy flow through her. In that moment, she could almost see her long-dead teacher, that kind and benevolent old man who had first set her upon this path, smiling at her with encouragement and pride.

    With a sound like a rushing wind, the remaining vines below dissipated in the blink of an eye. The sudden disappearance caught Bryan slightly off guard, his eyes narrowing in surprise and wariness.

    "What''s this?" Bryan''s voice carried a hint of genuine curiosity. Despite already holding the clear advantage, a flicker of caution shed in his eyes. "Have you decided to surrender, Miss Cliodna?"

    "Sometimes," Cliodna looked up responding, her voice steady despite her exhaustion, "choosing to give up requires far more courage than blindly persisting." A sad smile appeared across her lips as she continued, "I''m truly sorry, Mr. Watson, but I find that I do not possess that particr brand of courage today."

    Bryan''s brow furrowed. Before he could speak, the priestess below suddenly stretched her hand towards the sky. A seed, emanating a pure and brilliant emerald light despite the intense radiance around it, was flung into the air. Cliodna raised her Staff and lightly tapped the seed.

    <strong>Hum¡ª</strong>

    A mysterious wave of energy rippled outward in all directions, distorting the air like heat shimmer on a summer''s day. The teardrop-shaped seed, bathed in the burst of green light, began to transform and grow at an astonishing rate. In less time than it takes to draw a breath, a colossal guardian of living oak stood proudly in the middle of the Quidditch field.

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    A deafening crack split the air as the violent magical fluctuation caused the sky to change color. Dense, roiling clouds, as dark as smoke from a raging inferno, rolled in from all directions. Countless dazzling bolts of lightning flickered and leaped between the clouds in a terrifying disy of nature''s fury. An indescribable pressure weighed on the hearts of everyone outside the field!

    On top of the head of the oak guardian, which rivaled the ancient titans of myth in size and majesty, Cliodna knelt on one knee. Her chest heaved with exertion, as she struggled to recover from the immense magical outflow required to summon such a huge object.

    "Merlin''s beard!"

    "My God, surely I must be hallucinating!"

    The wizards in the woods outside the field let out various exmations of astonishment. Many rubbed their eyes or pped themselves to ensure they weren''t dreaming.

    "Where on earth did this womane from, and why did she kidnap you, Harry?"

    Mr. Weasley, his face pale with stress, stood on the verge ofplete mental copse. If the Ministry''s opponents had just been those ck-robed wizards responsible for the earlier disturbance, he would have felt confident in their ability to handle the situation. But this mysterious witch who had appearedter... Now it seemed the Ministry had no choice but to rely on Bryan to capture her.

    The young wizards were all questioning reality, including Harry. Hearing Mr. Weasley''s anguished question, Harry opened his mouth to respond, but a sharp, warning nce from Sirius made him snap it shut again. There were strangers everywhere, and if anyone heard that this powerful mysterious witch actually had close ties to Voldemort, the resulting panic could be disastrous!

    The oak guardian, like some ancient deity of the forest stood wreathed in a shimmeringyer of emerald-green aura. This protective light seemed to possess extraordinary resistance to the scorching heat emanating from Bryan''s ''Sun Domain'', greatly reducing the damage inflicted upon its wooden form. However, Bryan''s expression remained unchanged, showing no hint of concern at this new development. He slowly ascended to the same level as Cliodna, his gaze filled with admiration as he looked at her.

    Apart from the half-buried Albus Dumbledore, this Druid priestess was the first wizard who could contend with him to this extent when he was unleashing his full power.

    "I must admit," Bryan said, inclining his head slightly in a gesture of respect, "you have well and truly earned my admiration, Miss Cliodna. I can say without hesitation that you are the most formidable opponent I have ever faced." His voice took on a note of genuine sadness as he continued, "It''s just a pity¡ª"

    With the support of her Staff acting as a channel and amplifier, Cliodna still possessed an abundance of raw power at her disposal. However, the mental and physical strain of wielding such potent magic had pushed her to the very limits of her endurance. She no longer had the energy to spare even a moment''s thought to whatever Bryan might bementing, focusing all her remaining strength on simply drawing breath.

    "Let me go, Watson!" Cliodna managed to gasp out, her voice raw with desperation and fatigue.

    "I''m sorry¡ª" Bryan calmly shook his head, "I''m afraid I cannot agree to your request, Miss Cliodna¡ª"

    Before Bryan could finish his sentence, a thunderous boom shook the earth. The oak guardian, responding to some unspokenmand from its creator, suddenly staggered into motion. Its massive fist, easily the size of a small mountain, swung forward with terrifying speed and power. Before the fist evennded, the strong wind pressure directly copsed half of the already teetering Quidditch field.

    "You''re wasting your effort¡ª"

    Bryan lightly floated away, effortlessly dodging the punch.

    Bryan''s judgement was correct. While the giant wooden man Cliodna had conjured through her magical skill indeed possessed unparalleled destructive capability, its effectiveness was severely limited in the hands of its creator, who was now pushed beyond the limits of her endurance. It could no longer be controlled at will, only futilely draining her energy.

    As Bryan had foreseen, after expending thest of her strength tomand the oak guardian tounch that single, mighty punch, Cliodna had no strength left. Blood stained her lips as she copsed powerlessly on top of the guardian, her expression one of utter despair.

    Bryan dispelled the protective shroud of fiendfyre that had surrounded him throughout the battle. He stood in mid-air, pointing his wand at the now motionless oak guardian.

    "Sectumsempra¡ª"

    The tip of the ebony wand erupted with a dazzling disy of cold, gleaming magical energy. Arcs of silvery light, as sharp and deadly as the finest-honed des,shed out in every direction. Without the guiding will of its controller to direct its actions, the once-mighty oak guardian now stood as helpless as amb before the ughter. In an instant, the colossal wooden structure was reduced to nothing more than a shower of wooden splinters by the relentless assault of Bryan''s spell.

    Cliodna''s limp, powerless body began to plummet towards the scarred and pitted ground far below. With a sigh, Bryan flicked his wand, halting Cliodna''s descent and slowly drawing her towards him.

    Just as everything seemed about to settle, a new and terrifying phenomenon manifested in the misty air above the ruined Quidditch field. A darkness deeper and more absolute than the void between stars began to seep into existence. Like drops of concentrated ink falling into clear water, this malicious darkness spread with rming speed. Those who gazed upon it felt their very souls recoil, as it radiated an aura of pure evil and violence that defied description.

    A shrill, exasperated voice cut through the eerie silence, sending chills down the spines of all who heard it.

    "I remember telling you that it would be unwise to act during the World Cup!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0440 Him

    0440 Him

    As the towering wooden figures, as tall as a mountain, was sliced to pieces by Bryan, and the mysterious and powerful witch fell to the ground, the wizards hiding far away in the forest, including Sirius and Harry, all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

    Indeed, they had all ced their unwavering trust in Bryan''s abilities but the witch had given them an overwhelming sense of oppression that was difficult to shake. Even Sirius, who had born witness to the full extent of Bryan''s power on previous journey, had been on edge throughout this entire ordeal.

    "It''s over¡ª" Sirius exhaled deeply, his voice hoarse from the previous confrontation. He reached up with a trembling hand to wipe away the gleam of cold sweat that had formed on his furrowed brow.

    As the sun that had dominated the sky during the battle gradually dissipated, the scorching air that had enveloped the forest began to cool rapidly. A gentle breeze wafted through the trees. The sudden drop in temperature caused Sirius to shiver involuntarily, and it was only then that he became aware of his physical state. His clothes clung to his skin, thoroughly soaked through with sweat.

    ncing around, Sirius noted that he was not alone in this state. Arthur stood nearby, his usually neat robes awry and his thinning red hair was stered to his forehead. The younger kids¡ªHarry, Ron, Hermione, and the other Weasley children¡ªlooked equally disheveled and drenched in sweat.

    What was originally supposed to be a feast for the Wizarding World ¡ª the Quidditch World Cup Final¡ª had devolved into a nightmarish battle for survival¡ª Who could have imagined it would turn out like this?

    As the dust from the battle began to settle, both literally and figuratively, an eerie silence fell upon the group. The adrenaline that had been coursing through their veins began to recede, leaving behind a deep sense of disorientation. The duel they had just witnessed¡ªof such earth-shattering magnitude¡ªhad not only shaken their understanding of magic but had also shattered the very foundations of their worldview.

    Harry''s lips, dry from dehydration, quivered a few times as he prepared to say something. However, what came out of his throat was a piercing scream!

    "Ah!"

    Without warning, his legs buckled beneath him, and he copsed to his knees on the forest floor. His hands flew to his forehead, his fingers clutching desperately at the lightning bolt scar. The pain was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It felt as though a red-hot wire was being pressed against his skin. The agony was so intense that for a brief, terrifying moment, Harry found himself wishing for the sweet release of death.

    This sudden change caught Sirius and the otherspletely off guard. Their minds were still whirling around the shocking duel they had just witnessed. For several seconds, they stood frozen, unable to react as Harry writhed in pain before them.

    It was Elphias Doge who first managed to shake off the stupor that had gripped the group. His face wrinkled as he stepped forward asking in concern.

    "Oh, this boy is Harry Potter, isn''t he?" Elphias''s voice shook with worry. "What''s wrong with him?"

    The sound of Elphias''s voice seemed to break the spell that had fallen over them. Sirius was startled and then immediately rushed to Harry''s side dropping to his knees and lifting him into his arms.

    "What''s wrong, Harry!" Sirius''s voice was thick with panic as he held Harry''s trembling body.

    In an instant, Hermione, Ron, and the other Weasleys surged forward forming a tight circle around Harry and Sirius, but they all looked helpless as they watched him writhing in agony.

    "Scar!" Harry managed to squeeze out a word from his throat, almost on the verge of fainting from the pain.

    Ron''s brow furrowed in confusion and worry as he processed what Harry had said.

    "Your scar is hurting again, Harry?" Ron''s voice cracked slightly as he spoke. He tightened his grip on Harry''s wrist, his helpless gaze shifting to Hermione, silently pleading for her to provide some sort of exnation or solution. But what kind of answer could Hermione possibly provide in a situation like this?

    As the seconds ticked by and Harry''s condition showed no signs of improving, the tension in the group continued to increase. It was Mr. Weasley who finally broke silence.

    "Quick, go find Bryan, Sirius," Mr. Weasley urged, noticing that Sirius had been momentarily overwhelmed by worry and distress. "Maybe he can help Harry!"

    The mention of Bryan''s name seemed to jolt Sirius back to his senses. Without uttering a word, he scooped Harry into his arms. Sirius turned and prepared to rush back towards the ruins of the Quidditch stadium.

    However, just as he was about to take his first step, a chilling transformation began to unfold in the sky above the arena. The once-clear night sky suddenly turned an inky, oppressive ck, as if all the light had been sucked out of the world. The sudden change was so unnatural that it made Sirius hesitate.

    As they all stared up at the sky in horror, a voice cut through the eerie silence.

    "I remember telling you that it would be unwise to act during the World Cup!"

    The words spoken came from within the irregr ck ink stain that was now infecting the void above them. As thest syble faded away, the ck waves began to roll back upon themselves, sweeping towards the figure of Cliodna, who had been floating steadily towards Bryan.

    Bryan''s expression darkened perceptibly as he observed this new development, but his eyes showed no surprise. Or rather, this scene was somewhat expected, when he sensed the priestess''s magic appear in the Quidditch arena earlier that night.

    In that moment, as he stood facing the encroaching darkness, Bryan''s mind raced through the information he had gathered over the past months. He had already deduced that the Druid priestess, Cliodna, had joined forces with the most notorious dark wizard in the history of the British Wizarding World. The attempt to kidnap Harry during such a high-profile event was undoubtedly Voldemort''s doing. Bryan had even suspected that this operation was nned by Voldemort himself, and that Lucius Malfoy''s covert hiring of underground wizards was part of arger scheme to cooperate with this audacious n.

    But Voldemort''s words just now made Bryan realize that his initial guess had been off the mark. Although Cliodna had taken an enormous risk by targeting Harry at the World Cup Final, this action didn''t seem to be on Voldemort''s direct orders. Instead, it appeared to be her own decision.

    As these thoughts shed through his mind, Bryan let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh.

    Ever since he had first entered the Wizarding world, Bryan had anticipated that one day he would face this Dark Lord. This was the viin who had caused such extensive damage to the British magicalmunity, who had brought grief and suffering to countless families, and whose very name still struck fear into the hearts of witches and wizards across the country. But despite this long-held expectation, Bryan hadn''t anticipated that their confrontation would ur under such rushed and chaotic circumstances.

    A strange light flickered in Bryan''s brown pupils as he considered the situation. Although they had finallye face to face¡ªor as close to face to face as one could get with a ghostly faceless dark lord¡ªBryan found that he didn''t want to pay much attention to Voldemort at this particr moment. The timing and circumstances of their meeting held little meaning in the grand scheme of things. What mattered now was capturing her and protecting Harry and the others, while putting an end to this night of terror.

    With this thought in his mind, Bryan''s wand began to tremble. As its tip carved a path through the misty air, a powerful attractive force suddenly erupted from its core. Cliodna, who was a few moments away from being engulfed by the ominous ck waves, elerated abruptly. She shot forward with startling speed, narrowly escaping just as the waves closed in behind her.

    The rolling ck waves sounded like violent, inhuman roars. Within the inky darkness, a pair of crimson eyes flickered in and out of view. In the next breath, a sickly green light, brimming with the surging aura of death itself, burst through the waves. It streaked across the sky with terrifying speed, heading straight for Bryan''s face.

    <strong>"Avada Kedavra!"</strong>

    The curse light, imbued with an unimaginably deep hatred and powerful dark magic, gained incredible momentum as it crossed the space between Voldemort and Bryan. As the green light tore through the air, it left a trail of ionized particles in its wake, creating a series of colorful halos that would have been beautiful if not for their deadly origin.

    In that fleeting instant before impact, Bryan''s heightened senses seemed to perceive not just the spell, but the very essence of death itself. It was as if a tide of stark white bones was surging towards him, ready to drag him into the abyss.

    <strong>Hmph!</strong>

    A cold snort, as imposing and resonant as a p of thunder, echoed through the night sky. With a swift, precise movement, Bryan pointed his wand towards a few nearby metal boulder and transfigured it into arge shield. The heavy metal shimmered in the moonlight as it hovered protectively before him.

    <strong>Boom!</strong>

    The Killing Curse struck the shield with immense force, and though the transfigured metal shield absorbed much of the impact, it trembled violently under the raw, dark magic. A deep, resonating shockwave rippled outward from the point of contact, sending a wave of unsettling dark energy through the forest. The shield held firm but buckled under the pressure, cracks forming along its surface as the curse¡¯s energy dispersed. The wizards and witches observing from the forest felt an unsettling pressure upon their body.

    Some of the older and more sensitive wizards, already on edge from the intense magical duel, felt this sudden strain more intensely. Their faces turned ashen, and a few, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the magical disturbance, staggered or needed to sit down to regain theirposure.

    While the effect wasn''t as visible as a physical injury might have been, the psychological and magical impact of witnessing such a powerful and destructive force was undeniable.

    In a blinding sh of light and a deafening roar, both the shield and the curse light dissolved into nothingness. The resulting shockwave swept across thendscape with overwhelming force, its power was so great that it even managed to disperse some of the roaring ck waves that had been encroaching upon them!

    Bryan was not entirely unaffected by the st. He was forced to take a single step backward, as he absorbed the impact. But that was the extent of his retreat. After steadying himself, he suddenly extended his left hand towards Cliodna.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    The air itself seemed to part as the Staff of the Druids passed down through countless generations, flew out of Cliodna''s grasp. It moved so swiftly that it left only the faintest of afterimages. Cliodna, who had lost the ability to resist but was still conscious, followed closely behind it. As she watched Bryan Watson''s stern face rapidly erging in her field of vision, it was hard to say whether her expression was one of despair or relief.

    "Bryan Watson!"

    The voice that rang out was filled with fury.

    A voice, brimming with fury, reverberated through the air.

    <em>''If this foolish woman were truly captured here, all my carefullyid ns would shatter like soap bubbles. Who knows how many years it would take to find such a perfect opportunity again? And worse, she knows too many of my important secrets.''</em>

    At this crucial moment, with everything hanging in the bnce, Voldemort finally staked everything. The ck waves that had served as his avatar began to dissipate, revealing to Bryan''s widening eyes a creature about the size of a house-elf, but any simrity to those harmless creatures ended there. Its face was a nightmare in flesh ¨C ugly and distorted, covered in nauseating blisters that oozed a substance too foul to be called just pus.

    The freakish Voldemort red at the expressionless Bryan with intense hatred. Then, he swooped rapidly towards Bryan. His movements were erratic, almost desperate, as if he were ready to perish together with his enemy rather than face defeat.

    This resolute, kamikaze-like attitude made even Bryan frown inwardly. Realizing the seriousness of the situation, Bryan knew he had to act fast. He retracted his wand in a fluid motion, then suddenly raised it high above his head. In the blink of an eye, with the wand serving as the hilt, a sword of pure golden me materialized. It was a magnificent sight, as the de extended to about a hundred feet into the air.

    The next second, without hesitation, Bryan brought the giant sword shing down!

    <strong>Boom!!!</strong>

    The resulting explosion was the loudest and most violent of the entire night. The st wave from the detonated dark magic rushed into the sky with such force that it dispersed the thick clouds that had been gathering above. For a moment, the night sky was clear.

    <strong>Whoosh--</strong>

    Even as the echoes of the explosion were still reverberating through the forest, Bryan''s heightened senses detected something amiss. Acting on pure instinct, he dispelled the smaller metal shield he had summoned again and swiftly swung down his wand. The smoke and dust that had obscured the battlefield instantly cleared, revealing a scene that made Bryan''s heart sink.

    Cliodna''s faint visible figure was rapidly disappearing into a distorted vortex. Voldemort''s deformed body had already dissolved, leaving behind only a formless shadow. This eerie leftover was more ethereal than even the ghosts that haunted Hogwarts, and was hovering near the almost dissipating vortex like a guardian.

    "Bryan Watson, I''ve remembered your name. We''ll meet again¡ª"

    The words came like a low moan from the depths of hell itself. As the vortex smoothed out, preparing to close, the shadow that was Voldemort gazed deeply at Bryan. Those burning red eyes seemed to promise future retribution. With a final twist of dark magic, the shadow disappeared into the boundless night, moving at a speed that surpassed everything else.

    For a long moment, Bryan stood motionless, his wand still raised, eyes locked on the empty space where his enemies had vanished. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he lowered his arm. His gaze drifted to the oddly shaped staff in his left hand and after a pause, he exhaled deeply.

    "Indeed¡ª"

    Gazing at the night sky that had finally quietened, Bryan murmured softly,

    "We''ll meet again soon, Mr. Riddle¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0441 Thoughts

    0441 Thoughts

    It was over.

    Harry''s breathing gradually steadied as he slowly stood up with Sirius''s support. His trembling fingertips brushed over the scar''s location. The excruciating pain had disappeared along with the ck wave in the sky, as if everything that had just happened was merely a dream.

    In the quiet, dark forest, a buzzing sound like bees in flight gradually arose. Wizards and witches from various corners of the globe, who had eagerly traveled to witness the grandeur of the Quidditch World Cup, now stood frozen in ce, their wide eyes fixed upon the once-majestic Quidditch pitch. The once grand stadium was now in ruins as barely a third of its original size remained intact. Each face in the crowd bore a unique cocktail of emotions: shock at the sudden turn of events, fear of what mighte next, and an insatiable curiosity about the cause of such destruction.

    Ron his freckled face drained of all color, struggled to clear the thoughts racing through his mind.

    "Thatst one was, I mean... your scar, Harry¡ª" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he attempted to voice the suspicions in his heart. However, a sharp, warning nce from Sirius made him close his mouth.

    <strong>Crack!</strong>

    The tense silence was abruptly shattered by a resounding crack that echoed through the forest.

    With a crisp popping sound, Bryan apparated steadily in front of Sirius.

    Bryan''s gaze swept over the assembled group, taking in every detail with lightning speed. His eyes flickered from Sirius to Mr. Weasley, then to the younger members of their party: Harry, whoseplexion remained unnaturally pale; Hermione, her bushy hair was even more disheveled than usual; Ron who was trembling; then Ginny, Fred and George. When he saw Bill and Charlie, Bryan raised an eyebrow giving a slight smile to the two who seemed unsure of how to react to his presence. Finally, his attention settled on the unfamiliar figure standing awkwardly beside Hermione ¨CViktor Krum.

    "And who might you be?" Bryan asked curiously.

    The calm tone of inquiry frightened Krum, his tanned face turning snow-white. He trembled violently, almost falling due to weak knees.

    "V-Viktor Krum, sir," he managed to stutter out, his thick ent more distinct than ever as he struggled to form clear sentences in English. "I am... I am Seeker for Bulgaria. I study at Durmstrang!"

    Sirius, sensing the young man''s distress, quickly interjected, "Earlier in the Top Box, we were cornered by three ck-robed Dark wizards. Thisd here," he gestured towards Krum, "brought Arthur to our aid. His quick thinking may well have saved our lives."

    Bryan''s gaze remained fixed on Krum as he processed this information. "You''re one of Karkaroff''s students, then?"

    "Yes, that is correct, sir!" Krum''s response was immediate, his body as tense as if he were facing down a particrly ferocious Hungarian Horntail.

    Seemingly satisfied with Krum''s answers, Bryan gave a slight nod before shifting his attention back to the group: apart from Sirius who seemed somewhat injured and Harry whoseplexion was unnaturally pale, everyone else appeared to be in decent condition.

    "What became of the Dark witch I managed to trap?" Bryan inquired, his tone showing nothing of his inner thoughts.

    "Fudge took her away. He had only just escaped from the Top Box with us when you arrived, and he left almost immediately with the captured witch, muttering something about finding Rufus ¨C Scrimgeour, I think. I believe his intention is to interrogate her personally."

    Bryan nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered the situation. The witch he had captured was clearly from the underground world. It wasmon practice among such individuals to use various methods to safeguard sensitive information before embarking on high-risk missions. These precautions were specifically designed to prevent the exposure of crucial details about their assignments in case of capture. Given these circumstances, Bryan had doubts about the oue of any interrogation the Ministry might conduct. He knew it was unlikely to get any meaningful results, regardless of the methods employed.

    After pondering for a few seconds, Bryan came back to his senses. He noticed that everyone looked at him with awe, to the extent that they didn''t know how to talk with him. Meanwhile, the crowd of onlookers that had been keeping a certain distance began to stir, gradually bing aware of Bryan''s presence in their midst.

    Slowly people began to approach, their curiosity oveing their fear ¨C but only to a point as they stopped at what they believed a safe distance. A young boy, barely into his teens, raised a camera towards him with trembling hands. However, before he could press the shutter, his father ¨C face ashen with terror ¨C snatched the camera away. The man dragged his protesting son back into the crowd, not daring to look back.

    Every witch and wizard who made eye contact with Bryan immediately lowered their head, not daring to meet his gaze directly.

    Seeing this situation, Bryan''s expression remained unchanged, but he sighed in his heart.

    No wonder Dumbledore spent most of his time at Hogwarts, rarely leaving his headmaster''s office unless necessary.

    People respected Albus Dumbledore, but to some extent, it could also be said that Albus Dumbledore was imprisoned in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by people''s fear of his power.

    After tonight, many things would be different.

    But encouragingly, some people''s gazes remained unchanged.

    It was Sirius who finally broke the tense silence and urgently said,

    "What in Merlin''s name is going on, Bryan? How did you manage to appear here so suddenly? And that woman and that ominous ck shadow we saw earlier¡ª"

    At the mention of the powerful witch and the ck shadow, Harry immediately wanted to say something, but Bryan raised his palm to stop him. Scanning the surroundings, Bryan calmly said,

    "This isn''t a suitable ce to talk. Let''s go somewhere else."

    Sirius nodded in agreement, his expression solemn. "We can use our tent," he suggested. "It''s just beyond the edge of the woods¡ª"

    "I need to find the Ministry officials, Sirius"

    Although he was extremely curious about the imminent conversation, Mr. Weasley hesitated for a moment but still proposed to leave. For the Ministry of Magic, tonight''s disaster was just beginning¡ªrescue, investigation,pensation, mitigating the impact... a series of tasks that would likely keep the Ministry busy working at full capacity until the Christmas holidays.

    "Let''s go," Bryan said decisively, already starting to move. "I guess it won''t be long before the Ministryes looking for me."

    As Bryan began to walk, the crowd parted before him like the Red Sea before Moses. People hastily retreated to the sides, their eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear, but not a single soul dared to approach or speak to him directly.

    Before following the group, Hermione turned to Krum, her brown eyes warm with gratitude. "Thank you for your help earlier, Viktor," she said sincerely, giving him a small smile before jogging to catch up with her friends. Krum was left standing alone, his dark eyes fixed pensively on their retreating backs for a long time.

    The scene they saw as they emerged from the forest was one of utter chaos.

    The spectators'' campsite was a scene of apocalyptic chaos.

    Although themotion at the stadium had subsided, it didn''t mean it was safe. Panicked crowds surged in every direction, their faces contorted with fear as they hastily packed their belongings, desperate to flee the site of such terrifying events. Tents were being dismantled with frantic speed, belongings tossed haphazardly into trunks and bags. The air was filled with noise of shouted spells, crying children, and the asional crack of desperate Apparition attempts.

    Scattered Ministry employees, easily identifiable by their official robes, were doing their best to maintain some semnce of order, but their efforts seemed inadequate in the face of such widespread panic. Their voices were barely audible above the chaotic noise as they tried to direct the flow of people and prevent further idents.

    As if to highlight the danger of hasty magic in such chaotic conditions, a horrifying scene unfolded before their eyes. A wizard was attempting to Apparate away from the campsite. Whether due to his panicked state or his inexperience, the spell went horribly wrong. With a sickening sound, the unfortunate man was splinched ¨C his body was separated mid-Apparition. One of his legs materialized several dozen feet away from the rest of his body, both parts twitching uselessly on the ground as the wizard''s agonized wails filled the air until a haggard-looking Ministry employee hurriedly came to help him.

    The group witnessing this gruesome scene felt their hearts grow heavy. if this was happening in in sight, how many more such idents were urring out of view? How many witches and wizards had been injured in the night''s turmoil? And how many lives had been lost?

    With grim determination, Sirius led the group through the chaos to their tent. Only after Bryan sat down did the others take their seats. The atmosphere was heavy. Although they had just witnessed a duel that could go down in history, no one was jubnt about it.

    <strong>Thud¡ª</strong>

    With a soft thud that seemed unnaturally loud in the tense silence, Bryan ced the grapevine wand on the table before him. This uniquely shaped wand immediately drew reverent gazes from everyone present. Although the mysterious witch who had wielded it had ultimately been defeated by Bryan, the memory of the incredible power she had demonstrated was still fresh in their minds.

    Bryan tiredly rubbed his brow. Suppressing Cliodna in a head-on confrontation had required him to exert his full strength as well.

    "Where''s Remus?" he asked, his eyes scanning the group. "I had expected him to be with you."

    The mention of Remus caused a flicker of concern to pass over Sirius''s face. "Just beforeing to our aid," he exined, his voice heavy, "Arthur saw Remus take down a cloaked wizard. He was badly injured in the fight, so Arthur had a colleague take him directly to St. Mungo''s."

    Thinking of Remus, who had just been discharged from St. Mungo''s, now back in the hospital, a trace of gloom shed across Sirius''s eyes.

    Bryan nodded solemnly, absorbing this information. He removed his hand from his brow and noticed Harry looking at him eagerly. He nodded and smiled at him,

    "Do you have something you wish to tell me, Harry?"

    As Bryan began to speak, the frozen air finally started to flow. Harry stood up with a ng, bumping into his chair. He pressed both hands on the table and said impatiently,

    "Professor Watson," he began, his voice urgent, "that witch who tried to abduct me ¨C who is she exactly? Do you know her?"

    Needless to say, this was currently the most intriguing question. From the conversation between Professor Watson and the witch during the earlier confrontation, it was clear that they knew each other, there was no doubt it.

    "That''s a ratherplicated question¡ª" Bryan smiled self-deprecatingly,

    "Knowing that witch''s true identity is of little significance to you. What I can tell you is this: she and I have a long-standing grudge, and I''ve been tracking her whereabouts for some time now. But, I didn''t expect her to appear here today."

    Harry''s next words came out in a rush, as if he couldn''t hold them back any longer. "I''ve seen her in my dreams, Professor," he blurted out.

    Harry''s voice trembled slightly as he continued, "That witch, she was with Voldemort!"

    Harry''s words immediately caused a chorus of sharp intakes of breath in the garden. Apart from Sirius, Hermione, and Ron, the Weasley children were all incredibly surprised to hear Harry speak the Dark Lord''s name.

    "Dreams?" Bryan''s brow furrowed deeply, his piercing gaze focused on Harry.

    "Remember the letter Harry wrote to me earlier, Bryan, when we had just got out of that ce then¡ª"

    Sirius''s expression was solemn as he exined the situation to Bryan as concisely as possible. Then, he focused his gaze on Harry''s eyes,

    "You''re absolutely certain you didn''t mistake her identity, Harry?"

    "I swear!" Harry said urgently, "That witch and Voldemort appeared in an old house. They were discussing some sort of plot, or rather, they wanted to capture me¡ª"

    Only now, in the rtive calm following the chaos of the night, did Harry find himself recalling additional details from his dream.

    Hermione covered her mouth, her gaze full of concern, while Ron and his siblings all wore bewildered expressions.

    Professor Watson''s calm demeanor somewhat eased the anxiety in Harry''s heart. After swallowing hard, he continued breathlessly,

    "There was an old man in the house too, He seemed to be a Muggle. I... I think Voldemort killed him. Oh, and Bertha Jorkins, Voldemort seems to have killed her too!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0442 Sleepless Night

    0442 Sleepless Night

    "Bertha Jorkins?!"

    Sirius, Hermione, and Ron eximed in unison. Earlier that morning, while climbing the Stoatshead Hill, Mr. Weasley had mentioned her in passing that she used to work for Barty Crouch and was now under Ludo Bagman. A month ago, she had gone on vacation to Albania and hadn''t been heard from since.

    Harry''s confident expression also dispelled any doubts Sirius might have had. He turned to Bryan, hoping for an exnation, but quickly realized that Bryan couldn''t possibly know everything¡ªhow would he know how Bertha Jorkins had encountered Voldemort and been killed by him?

    But, In fact, Bryan did know about this.

    "You saw Voldemort and Cliodna''s conversation in your dream," Bryan said, lowering his head and gently rubbing his brow. After a moment of thought, he confirmed that vague unspoken guess which both he and Dumbledore had some time ago.

    Harry was an unintentional Horcrux created by Voldemort, with a fragment of Voldemort''s soul residing within him. Moreover, Harry might be the only living Horcrux among all of Voldemort''s creations and this mysterious magical connection could probably allow Harry to glimpse into Voldemort''s thoughts.

    Reaching this conclusion, Bryan paused. He discreetly nced at Harry''s eyes, and only after confirming that the light in Harry''s emerald gaze remained pure did he look away.

    Since Bryan was unwilling to reveal how he knew the mysterious witch or what history they shared, no one could force him to speak. After a moment''s hesitation, Sirius asked another question on everyone''s behalf.

    "Bryan, thatst ck shadow we saw¡ª" Sirius''s tone was heavy. "Was it Voldemort?"

    Most people hadn''t seen Voldemort''s true form tonight; all they''d witnessed was a dark shadow and a blurry hideous creature. Only those privy to certain information, like Sirius and Harry, would make such a connection.

    "Why do you think that?" Bryan raised an eyebrow, smiling at Sirius.

    "Isn''t it obvious?" Sirius replied calmly. "Harry dreamed that this witch was working with Voldemort. Tonight, she appeared here to kidnap Harry. If it weren''t Voldemort''s order, I can''t imagine why Harry would provoke such a powerful witch."

    Sirius''s voice was filled with worry as he continued, "That devil has always been skilled at manipting people. More than a decade ago, he gathered arge following through these means. Now, he''s found himself another powerful ally¡ª"

    Bryan smiled nomittally. "Even if it is Voldemort, we have Dumbledore on our side, don''t we? He will undoubtedly have a solution."

    "Yes, Dumbledore is indeed the wizard Voldemort fears most, but you''re equally important, Bryan," Sirius said earnestly, causing the young wizards to nod fervently in agreement. "Without you, I fear even Dumbledore would be hard-pressed to handle two powerful dark wizards simultaneously."

    "Ha-Ha, thank you for your trust, Sirius¡ª" Bryan smiled gently. "But dealing with a dark lord like Voldemort isn''t something one or two people can aplish. It requires arge group of people working together¡ª"

    "A wise perspective, Bryan¡ª" an elderly voice suddenly resounded in the box. Bryan looked up to see a silver phoenix Patronus with azure eyes passing through the illusory sky, suddenly hovering above the table in front of everyone.

    "Professor Dumbledore!" Harry called out in disbelief and delight.

    "Good evening, Harry¡ª" The silver phoenix nodded at Harry. "I''m truly d to see that everyone here is safe and sound."

    "So, you already know what happened here, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Bryan asked, gazing at Dumbledore''s image within the Patronus as its azure eyes focused on him.

    "Yes¡ª" Dumbledore''s voice was extremely solemn. "I was enjoying some new sweets from Honeydukes in my office when Cornelius sent someone to Hogwarts to find me, requesting my immediate presence at the Ministry. In his office, Cornelius exined everything to me, and of course, I''ve received information from other sources as well.

    If you don''t mind, Bryan, I hope you cane to the Ministry immediately. Oh, this is also Cornelius''s invitation. From my perspective, after you fully demonstrated your abilities in resolving tonight''s terrible crisis, he probably doesn''t dare to meet you alone¡ª"

    Bryan nodded, standing up from his chair. After putting away Cliodna''s staff, he turned to Sirius.

    "It''s gettingte. You all should stay here at the campsite to rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, Sirius you can take the children back to the vige of Ottery St. Catchpole."

    Sirius nodded slightly. As he watched Bryan stride out to deal with tonight''s troubles, for some reasons his eyes showed a bit of disappointment and envy.

    "Wait, Bryan¡ª" Sirius called out suddenly, his voice carrying a note of urgency that caused Bryan to pause mid-stride and turn back.

    "When you''re done dealing with the trouble, if you have time, I''d like to talk to you privately."

    Bryan raised his eyebrow, and Harry also gave his godfather a puzzled look.

    "I understand," Bryan responded after a moment''s consideration, giving a nod before turning once more to leave.

    "Good night, everyone¡ª" The silver phoenix winked at Harry and the others. Although it was just a bird, Harry felt as if he could see Professor Dumbledore smiling kindly at them.

    "I look forward to seeing you all when the new term begins,"

    With these words, Dumbledore''s phoenix Patronus dispersed with a puff, transforming into a sky full of dreamlike stars, enveloping the group of pensive onlookers.

    As Bryan stepped out of the tent and into the cool night air, he was immediately struck by the realization that the chaos outside had not only failed to subside but had, in fact, intensified to a fever pitch. Everywhere he looked, wizards and witches from various countries were running back from the woods, their faces etched with a mixture of fear, anger, and confusion.

    Many were hastily returning to their campsites, frantically packing up their belongings determined to leave under the cover of darkness rather than risk another moment in what they now perceived as a danger zone. Groups of agitated witches and wizards were angrily approaching any Ministry employee they saw, demanding exnations for the evening''s events.

    In the distance, the faint sounds of Muggle fire trucks and police cars could be heard. The earliermotion of Bryan''s confrontation with Cliodna and Voldemort had been too grand topletely hide from Muggles, and these government officials were responding to rm reports to investigate the situation.

    However, the Muggles''s good intentions would undoubtedly increase the Ministry''s workload exponentially. The sheer scale of the memory modifications and cover-ups required to maintain the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy would be staggering. Mr. Weasley probably wouldn''t be able to go home to sleep for the entire month.

    As Bryan observed all this, he saw Rita Skeeter suddenly appearing materializing a few distance away, clutching her trademark crocodile-skin handbag as if it were a lifeline.

    She moved through the chaos like a shark scenting blood in the water, her jeweled spectacles were glinting in the firelight as she approached everyone in her path. Tourist or Ministry employee, it made no difference to her ¨C each person was a potential source of the sensational story she could feel brewing in the air. Though primarily known for her scathing political expos¨¦s and exciting celebrity gossip, it was clear that Rita recognized the potential for a career-defining scoop within the wreckage of the Quidditch World Cup.

    The chaotic world before him made Bryan sigh slightly. He couldn''t help with the aftermath; it was up to the Ministry to properly handle people''s anger.

    Gathering his thoughts, Bryan took a step forward, his body instantly slipping into the cracks of space. After a moment of disorientation, he appeared in the grand hall of the Ministry of Magic.

    The usually bustling grand hall of the Ministry of Magic was now eerily silent and deserted, even though on ordinary days it would be crowded with wizards attending to various matters. But now, in the dead of night and amidst such an incident, not a single soul was in sight. Even the guards and those on alert duty had been urgently dispatched to the Quidditch field to calm the panicked crowd.

    In this uncharacteristic stillness, Dumbledore stood by the Fountain of Magical Brethren, counting with interest the glittering silver Sickles and bronze Knuts at the bottom of the pool. Before Bryan''s true form had fully materialized, he had already sensed it and turned his head first towards the slightly rippling air.

    "That was quick, Bryan. I thought you might have taken a moment to change your clothes beforeing, the night''s events have been quite... dusty, shall we say?" Dumbledore said with a smile as Bryan emerged from thin air.

    "Thanks for the reminder, Headmaster. I indeed didn''t notice that," Bryan replied, ncing down at his attire and they indeed were covered in a fineyer of debris and dirt. With a casual snap of his fingers, the grime and wear vanished, leaving behind robes that looked as if they had just been tailored.

    As Bryan strode towards Dumbledore, his gaze swept across the empty hall. The vast space, normally alive with activity, now seemed hollow and almost oppressive in its silence. He furrowed his brows and asked.

    "With such a major incident, all the Ministry staff are at the Quidditch field doing their utmost to calm the public. But Fudge..." He paused, his frown deepening. "How could Fudge, being the Minister of Magic, choose to run back to his own office at a time like this? What in Merlin''s name is going through that man''s mind?"

    "Sometimes, Cornelius''s actions and views do indeed cause some controversy and confusion¡ª" Dumbledore''s bright blue eyes were focused on Bryan, who hade to his side. His tone was calm, seemingly unsurprised by Fudge''s foolish behavior. "For instance, just before I left his office, he asked me if there was any way to keep you confined to Hogwarts indefinitely."

    "Hah!" Bryanughed as he tidied his disheveled hair by the pool, hearing Dumbledore''s words. "Is that so? Is our dear Minister so concerned that I might seize this ''golden'' opportunity to demand his immediate resignation?"

    "At least he didn''t ask me if there was a way to lock you up in Azkaban¡ª" Dumbledore''s silver-white beard quivered, but there wasn''t much humor in his eyes. "The abilities you demonstrated to the wizarding world tonight Bryan... they''ve far exceeded what Cornelius considers to be within eptable limits. If you were to express even the slightest intention of pursuing the position of Minister of Magic, I believe you would find no shortage of supporters, and Cornelius would be powerless to stop it. Especially since people will surely me tonight''s disaster on the Ministry.

    So, it''s not hard to understand why Cornelius would make such a humorous request. But, Bryan, I''m sure you realize that from now on, Cornelius probably won''t be as cordial to you as before¡ª"

    Meeting those prating blue eyes, Bryan pursed his lips. "Well, Headmaster, perhaps you can tell our esteemed Minister that if he can persuade the school governors to double my sry, I might be willing to stay at Hogwarts for life."

    "Oh, if that''s truly the case, I''m sure Cornelius will find a way to fulfill your wish, Bryan¡ª" Hearing Bryan''s words, Dumbledore''s smile became much more genuine.

    It wasn''t just Cornelius Fudge who had concerns about Bryan''s ambition growing unchecked; Dumbledore before him was also one of them who shared those worries. In fact, he was even more concerned than Cornelius Fudge and Bryan was also well aware of this.

    By the fountain, both Dumbledore and Bryan fell into a brief silence. They gazed at the clear spring, observing the pure gold statues of the wizard and witch above the fountain, and the centaur, goblin, and house-elf surrounding them, looking up at the human figures with boundless adoration. After a long while, Bryan spoke softly,

    "Is there anything you need me to exin, Headmaster? Without touching on some of my secrets, I''m willing to do my best to satisfy your curiosity¡ª"

    Hearing Bryan''s words, Dumbledore''s aged face rxed slightly, the light in his eyes flickered and his voice became very gentle. "I must express my deepest gratitude, Bryan. If you hadn''t appeared in time, it''s unimaginable how many lives would have been lost tonight."

    Bryan shook his head slightly. Dumbledore was as astute as ever.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0443 Fudgeâ€™s Attitude

    0443 Fudge¡¯s Attitude

    Bryan shook his head slightly. Dumbledore was as astute as ever.

    "The witch I dueled tonight intended to take Harry away¡ª" Their gazes met again as Bryan calmly continued, "Perhaps you''ve already heard about Harry''s dream during the summer holiday that caused his scar to react. The woman who appeared in Harry''s dream was her¡ª"

    "Tom has indeed found himself a capable ally¡ª" Dumbledore said calmly. "When I heard there was a witch whose age and magical power were not far from yours, you can''t imagine how surprised I was, Bryan. So, are you saying this youngdy wanted to take Harry away at the World Cup, following Tom''s orders?"

    "Probably not, actually¡ª" Bryan replied shaking his head. "Voldemort was furious about Cliodna''s appearance at the Quidditch field tonight. While it''s true that he is indeed plotting to get his hands-on Harry, his n certainly wouldn''t involve such a brazen and public attempt at kidnapping - especially not in front of a hundred thousand witnesses. He probably has another scheme. And interestingly enough, I suspect it''s a n that hasn''t received his newpanion''s full approval. This irrational move tonight was likely Cliodna acting on her own initiative, outside of Voldemort''s direct orders."

    "Cliodna¡ª" Dumbledore repeated, the name rolling off his tongue with a hint of recognition.

    Bryan''s mention of Voldemort wanting to get Harry didn''t surprise Dumbledore at all. In fact, both of them had anticipated this to some extent. It was the witch''s name that Bryan uttered that greatly intrigued Dumbledore. "If I''m not mistaken, this rather unique name shoulde from¡ª"

    "You''re not wrong, Headmaster," Bryan confirmed, cutting off Dumbledore''s spection. "The name indeedes from the Druid mythology. It''s a name passed down through generations as a surname by the leaders of that sect. Cliodna is the current High Priestess of the Druid Order¡ª"

    "Well, this is truly a surprising turn of events," Dumbledore blinked. "Although I''ve never had the opportunity to deal with them directly, I am somewhat familiar with the reputation of the Druid Order. I was under the impression that they were, in general, peace-loving individuals, more concerned with maintaining the bnce of nature than involving themselves in the conflicts of the wizarding world.

    Well, it seems I''ll have to look at Tom in a new light. How on earth did he manage to persuade them to work for him?"

    "That''s something I''m curious about as well." Bryan''s eyes flickered. There were still many aspects of this situation that he was actively investigating, and much of the information he already possessed was too sensitive or spective to be fully disclosed.

    Looking at the appropriately puzzled expression on Bryan''s face, Dumbledore''s beard twitched slightly, but in the end, he chose not to pursue the matter further.

    The two took the elevator to the first underground level, where Fudge''s office was located. After the Greyback incident, Bryan had frequented the Ministry for a period of time, so he was quite familiar with the ce.

    Pushing open the door, they found that Fudge wasn''t alone in the spacious, luxurious office. Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office, was there too, reporting something to Fudge. When he saw Bryan enter the office first, Rufus immediately closed his mouth, his usually lion-like sharp gaze now avoiding Bryan''s scrutiny.

    Rufus didn''t like Bryan. He always believed that Bryan wasn''t an upright wizard, and at the press conference on the elimination of Greyback, Bryan''s act of giving Fiendfyre a new name was undoubtedly an attempt to deceive the public, to sugarcoat a dangerous and destructive force of dark magic.

    "Ah, Bryan, you''re here already!" Earlier in the VIP box, Fudge had also suffered some injury; his arm had been hurt by the falling ceiling. Now, his right arm was in a bandage. Before Bryan and Dumbledore entered, he had been sitting in his chair listening to Rufus''s report, which seemed to be causing him some difficulty, judging by the reluctance on his puffy face.

    Upon seeing Bryan, Fudge instinctively started to stand up to greet him, but halfway through raising his bottom, he sat back down for some inexplicable reason. After fidgeting ufortably for a few moments, he gave Bryan a somewhat awkward smile.

    Bryan noticed Fudge''s small gestures, but maintained a smile and a respectful tone. "Headmaster Dumbledore informed me that you wanted to see me, and I indeed should provide an exnation to the magicalmunity about tonight''s events, that''s why I came here without dy. But it seems you''re dealing with other important matters. Should I perhapse backter?"

    "Oh, no¡ªno, that won''t be necessary at all!" Fudge hurriedly waved his hand. " You- you should definitely stay, Bryan. This matter actually requires your help too. Ahem, I mean... Rufus, don''t you have your own business to attend to?"

    Rufus, being very tactful, quietly and decisively left the Minister''s office.

    Now, only Fudge, Bryan, and Dumbledore remained in the office. The trio made their way to a circr conference table, its polished surface reflecting the flickering mes of nearby candles. As they settled into their seats, Bryan''s voice broke the silence.

    "What''s going on, Minister Fudge?" he inquired, his piercing gaze focused on the Minister''s face. "Is Scrimgeour facing some difficulties?"

    "That dark witch, Bryan, the one you captured¡ª" Fudge pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his sweat, his expression somewhat unnatural. "The group of wizards in ck robes whounched an attack¡ªI mean, caused trouble tonight... Rufus just came to tell me that she was the only one captured alive. Apart from a few who died at the hands of the Aurors, the rest escaped. Rufus is interrogating her downstairs, hoping to extract their motives, but, oh¡ª"

    Fudge nced cautiously at Bryan and Dumbledore on either side of him. "Rufus wants my authorization to examine the dark witch''s memories or use methods like Veritaserum."

    "Is there a problem with that?" Bryan asked, feigning confusion. "If I remember correctly, the Ministry can use some extraordinary measures for criminals who havemitted serious offenses."

    Fudge nodded vigorously, relief flooding over his features at Bryan''s apparent support. "Of course, that''s why I approved Rufus''s request, but the issue is¡ª" He paused, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. "The cage you conjured to trap the dark witch also protects her in a sense. Rufus and his team have tried many methods but can''t open it."

    The Auror Office, led by Rufus Scrimgeour, was widely regarded as the Ministry''s most elite force. These were wizards and witches of exceptional skill and power. Yet, they couldn''t break open a cage casually conjured by Bryan Watson. Not only was this embarrassing, but it also made Fudge fully aware that Bryan Watson''s magical prowess hadpletely surpassed the Ministry''s control.

    Bryan''s response was maddeningly nomittal. "Oh, I see¡ª" he said simply, nodding once before falling silent. His closed mouth and neutral expression showed neither eptance nor rejection of the implicit request in Fudge''s words.

    This ambiguous attitude left Fudge squirming in his seat,pletely at a loss. Beads of sweat formed anew on his brow as he wrestled with the predicament. Unable to find a graceful way forward, he turned his gaze towards Dumbledore, silently pleading for assistance.

    Dealing with Dumbledore was something that Fudge found terribly agonizing. On one hand, he needed to maintain a wary distance, mindful of Dumbledore''s far-reaching influence and unparalleled prestige in the wizarding world. His power, both magical and political, was a constant source of anxiety for Fudge, who often felt overshadowed by his reputation.

    On the other hand, when faced with serious difficulties, it was often Dumbledore who provided the most constructive and insightful suggestions. At leastpared to the young Bryan Watson, Dumbledore seemed more reliable. This wasn''t Fudge''s personal bias, but rather the result of Dumbledore''s low-key and modest demeanor over the past half-century, which made him appear less dangerous.

    Dumbledore, for his part, seemed content to let the moment stretch. He sat with his long, slender fingers inteced against the chair back, his posture rxed. He clearly understood what Cornelius''s gaze meant, but he didn''t acknowledge it. Instead, he met Fudge''s eyes, his bright blue eyes shimmering with solemn light.

    "What I''d rather know, Cornelius, is whether the Ministry has obtained specific casualty figures from tonight? How many wizards were victimized in this turmoil, and how many unfortunate souls perished?"

    The shift in focus was subtle but significant. Dumbledore''s question was to remind Fudge of his responsibilities as Minister, steering the conversation away from the immediate problem of the caged witch and towards the broader impacts of the night''s events.

    Fudge''s demeanor changed noticeably as he understood Dumbledore''s hint. The forced formality he had maintained with Bryan melted away, reced by a more casual, albeit agitated, manner. He waved his hand dismissively, his frustration evident in every movement.

    "It''s impossible to know so quickly, Dumbledore," he said, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Keep in mind, over a hundred thousand wizards were there tonight. Some of them fled back to their countries as soon as the ck-robed wizards appeared, but most stayed until the end.

    I''ve tasked Amelia with this, she''s at the scene with her team taking a tally. Ten minutes before you walked in, Amelia sent me a note."

    Fudge''s expression darkened as he told the preliminary findings. "Many people were injured, but the vast majority were from the stampede during the escape. Some were caught in the crossfire when our people were trying to capture the dark wizards." He paused, his voice dropping to a soft whisper. "And yes, there were fatalities!"

    The seriousness of the situation settled over the room like a heavy nket. Bryan''s face remained expressionless, showing no surprise at this oue. His mind, however, was racing. Although he didn''t know the exact reason for Lucius Malfoy''s change of ns, he understood that the underground bounty wizards recruited were meant to cause chaos at the World Cup, not to massacre wizards from various countries. It seemed that if people truly died tonight, it was likely due to the disorderly evacuation rather than deliberate attacks.

    Dumbledore nodded solemnly, his bright blue eyes dimming slightly behind his half-moon spectacles.

    "So, Cornelius," he said softly, his gaze steady on the Minister, "what do you n to do next?" The question was simple, yet it was the final straw for the already overwhelmed Fudge.

    As if a dam had finally burst under unbearable pressure, Fudge''s fragileposure shattered.

    "What am I supposed to do?!" he cried out, his voice rising to a near-hysterical pitch. He flung his handkerchief onto the table with a frustrated swipe, then pushed back his chair with a harsh scrape. sping his hands tightly behind his back, his knuckles white with strain, he began to pace frantically around the conference table, his expression on the brink of copse.

    "Everyone in the department asks me what to do when they see me!" Fudge continued, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "And now, you''re also asking me what to do, Dumbledore. Oh, I''d like to ask someone else what the Ministry should do!"

    "Needless to say, we''ve be apleteughingstock, haven''t we?" Fudge''s voice dripped with bitter sarcasm. "This can''t be kept secret. By tomorrow morning, the whole world will know what kind of Quidditch World Cup we hosted. The Daily Prophet¡ªoh yes, they''ll certainly sing your praises, Bryan, But what about the Ministry? How am I supposed to exin to wizards worldwide that so many unidentified dark wizards suddenly invaded our supposedly foolproof Quidditch World Cup and caused a¡ªoh, a duel of the century!"

    Fudge''s fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white as he breathed heavily.

    Bryan lowered his gaze. Fudge''s current outburst was more or less what he had expected. Dumbledore, already ustomed to such scenes, sighed softly, "You''re the Minister of Magic, Cornelius. People naturally expect you toe up with solutions."

    Fudge let out a dry, humorlessugh. His gaze, filled with a mixture of hatred and resentment, fell upon his seat behind the ministerial desk. At least at this moment, he sincerely wished he wasn''t the Minister of Magic for Britain.

    The office fell into an ufortable silence. Bryan, sensing that it wasn''t yet his time to speak, remained quiet, as his eyes continued to follow Fudge''s agitated movements. Dumbledore with his years of experience in dealing with such situations also kept his thoughts to himself. He knew all too well that offering unsought suggestions at this juncture would only serve to aggravate Fudge''s already fragile nerves.

    The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft ticking of a clock on the mantelpiece and Fudge''s increasinglybored breathing.

    Finally, Fudge''s political instincts began to reassert themselves. He had, after all, been in the position of Minister of Magic for nearly half a decade. While his abilities might be somewhatcking in certain areas, he was certainly qualified as a politician.

    Having vented his frustrations, Fudge felt slightly better, though his expression remained troubled. He turned to face Dumbledore; his eyes narrowed in thought. "I think the Dementors of Azkaban need to be mobilized, Dumbledore," he said, his voice carrying a note of decisiveness.

    Bryan''s face remained emotionless, but internally, he couldn''t help but chuckle. Dumbledore''s bright blue eyes, peering over his half-moon spectacles, shed with obvious resignation. It was clear that the method Fudge proposed hadn''t escaped either of their predictions.

    "The experience of capturing Sirius ck has taught us, Cornelius," Dumbledore said carefully, "that those life-draining creatures from Azkaban will only cause more trouble for you, rather than being of any help."

    Fudge''s expression soured at Dumbledore''s gentle rebuke. He wasn''t new to dealing with Dumbledore and was well aware of some of the tricks he liked to use. "Alright, don''t hold back, Dumbledore, If you have any good suggestions, just say them!"

    Dumbledore nodded, seemingly not offended by Fudge''s rough manner.

    "The aftermath is currently the most important issue; The Ministry must bear the losses. All treatment costs for wizards injured in the turmoil should be covered by the Ministry. For those who unfortunately perished, the Ministry needs to send personnel to discusspensation with their families.

    My suggestion is that the Ministry makes a public statement, using all the profits from this World Cup for constion andpensation."

    The flesh on Fudge''s cheeks trembled violently, hisplexion paling noticeably. "All the profits¡ª" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

    Compensation was necessary; Fudge knew this without Dumbledore telling him. But all the profits from hosting the World Cup... This wasn''t a decision he could make alone, involving as it did the allocation of significant Ministry resources. Yet, he had to admit that such a gesture would indeed gain the understanding and goodwill of many people.

    "Very well," Fudge said finally, his voice stressed. "I''ll consider your suggestion carefully, Dumbledore. But the key issue is that we must provide an exnation for tonight''s attack¡ª"

    Before Fudge could finish his thought, Bryan''s voice cut through the tension, startling both the Minister and Dumbledore. "The group of wizards who attacked the arena, the witch who appearedter, and the ugly wizard who finally appeared in the sky above the stadium¡ªthey''re all part of the same group. This is something the Ministry needs to emphasize to the public."

    Bryan''s sudden interjection left Fudge looking startled and Dumbledore falling into silence.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0444 Explanation

    0444 Exnation

    The group of dark wizards who hadunched such a brazen attack on the Quidditch World Cup were certainly not the same as the powerful witch who hadter dueled with Bryan Watson. Nor were they connected to the ugly, grotesque figure that had materialized in the sky atst. This truth was known not only to Fudge but to many others who had been present in the top box of the stadium that night.

    They all saw that the shockingly powerful witch was after Harry Potter. There was no doubt in anyone''s mind that her goal had been to kidnap him.

    As for the earlier group, those ck-robed wizards their motives seemed less clear-cut. Based on the limited information they had managed to gather in the chaos, these individuals didn''t appear to have been intent on causing widespread harm or casualties. Instead, their actions seemed calcted to inspire fear, or to create panic and confusion among the gathered crowds.

    Fudge''s mind whirled with these thoughts, his political instincts warring with his personal fears and suspicions. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. His gaze, filled with a mixture of confusion and desperation, turned towards the quiet Dumbledore.

    A nagging question kept pushing its way towards Fudge''s mind.

    <em>''Why would that witch want to kidnap Harry Potter?''</em>

    Fudge had always kept a watchful eye on the boy, of course. It was part of his job, after all, to be aware of potential threats and points of interest within the wizardingmunity. And Harry Potter, by virtue of his history and his fame, was certainly a point of interest. Fudge''s surveince had showed that the boy was far from a model student at Hogwarts when it came to following rules. In fact, many of the incidents that had urred at the school over the past two years had involved the child in some ways.

    Yet, despite all of this, Harry had always been under the watchful eyes of both Dumbledore and the Ministry. And there was no information, no intelligence, no hint of anything that could exin how or why Harry Potter could have provoked such a powerful and resolute dark witch. What could a teenage boy, barely into his fourth year at Hogwarts, have done to draw the attention of such a formidable enemy?

    Fudge''s mind, desperate for answers, began to explore darker possibilities. Aside from the Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban, he couldn''t imagine who would be so desperate to harm Harry Potter. Unless...

    A chilling thought began to take form in Fudge''s mind. There might be one, but that person was-- no, it was impossible. That person was finished, gone, But then, that grotesque figure who had appeared at the end of the night''s chaos, so ugly and disgusting, but with a face that looked...

    Fudge''s lips trembled a few times as he forcibly stopped himself from continuing that line of thought.

    Into this tense silence, Bryan''s voice cut like a knife, startling both Fudge and Dumbledore from their private contemtions.

    "That witch is the leader of this group of cloaked wizards, they''re a band of deranged criminals who have been wreaking havoc in Albania for some time now. I''ve been on their trail for the past two years, tracking their movements and gathering intelligence.

    These fanatics have never actually met the Dark Lord, but they worship him with blind devotion Tonight''s attack at the World Cup was their twisted way of paying homage to him. They disguised themselves as Death Eaters and unleashed this terrible assault showing their devotion to the Dark Lord."

    <strong><em>''Lies! Utter nonsense!''</em></strong>

    The words echoed in Fudge''s mind, a habitual reaction to the audacious ims being made. Even Cornelius Fudge, a man well-versed in the subtle art of political doublespeaking, found his eyes widening in disbelief at Bryan''s words. He instinctively wanted to refute them, but before the words of protest could leave his mouth, he suddenly remembered a secret report he had read a few days ago.

    The report had detailed a disturbing incident in Albania, one that had sent shockwaves through both the magical and Muggle worlds. Most of the dark wizards active in that region had been wiped out in a single brutal attack. The incident had caused severe repercussions in the Muggle world, with inexplicable disappearances making headlines across Eastern Europe. Despite extensive investigations, the perpetrators of this massacre had yet to be identified or brought to justice.

    Fudge stared at Bryan with a slightly horrified look. The report stated that thosewless dark wizards had died very miserably.

    They were dead. All of them.

    But as this chilling thought settled in Fudge''s mind, a new thought began to take shape. His eyes lit up with a spark of political wit. This meant there was no one left to testify. Those incinerated dark wizards couldn''t stand up and defend themselves against Bryan''s ims.

    Moreover, if this exnation were to be epted and propagated, it would serve multiple purposes. It would exin to the public why Bryan Watson had seemed to know the witch called Cliodna during their duel. It also provided a neat, if somewhat convenient, exnation for the night''s events. And perhaps most importantly from Fudge''s perspective, it allowed Bryan to position himself as a hero who had been secretly working to protect the wizarding world, while simultaneously distancing himself from any direct involvement in the night''s catastrophic events.

    The pieces of this narrative began to take their ce in Fudge''s mind. Bryan had been to Albania and was tracking those Dark wizards preparing for confrontation and he had also eliminated a group of dark wizards nesting there.

    Dumbledore''s gaze flickered for a moment, a brief sh of something crossing his weathered features. But he said nothing in front of Fudge.

    In his earlier moment of agitation, Fudge had aggravated the wound on his arm. Now, as he gradually calmed down, the pain made his face slightly pale. He nced at the small bloodstain on the bandage, muttered a few words, and returned to the conference table.

    Bryan, having delivered his explosive narrative, fell silent once more. The office sank back into a tense, contemtive quiet, broken only by the soft ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

    The truth.

    It was the least important thing. Everyone needed an exnation. The Ministry needed one, a story to present to the public that would maintain their image of control andpetence. The folks of Magical Britain needed one, something to ease their fears and restore their sense of security. Bryan Watson needed one, a tale that would elevate his status as a hero rather than raise ufortable questions about his involvement. The wizards from various countries who hade to watch the match needed one, an assurance that their safety had not been cruelly disregarded by their British hosts. And perhaps most pressingly, the families of the injured and the deceased needed one, a reason for their suffering, a target for their grief and anger.

    But Fudge knew, with the weary pessimism of a career politician, that an exnation andpensation alone would not be enough. For such a heinous incident, one that had shattered the illusion of peace and security that Magical Britain had enjoyed for over a decade, the Ministry had to be seen taking decisive action. They had to arrest the culprits as soon as possible. Otherwise, the reputation of the British Ministry of Magic would once again face a serious challenge, one far worse than the embarrassment caused by Sirius ck''s escape from Azkaban and the subsequent revtion of his innocence.

    However, both "as soon as possible" and "arresting the culprits" were daunting tasks for the Ministry, challenges that seemed almost insurmountable given their current situation and the mysterious nature of their enemies. The attackers had vanished like smoke, leaving behind only chaos and questions. How could they hope to track down and arrest such elusive foes?

    The Ministry now had one arrested terrorist in its custody. Under normal circumstances, they would interrogate her relentlessly, using every tool at their disposal to force her to reveal the purpose behind their attack and the identities of her aplices. But using Bryan''s exnation... well, Fudge had to admit, grudgingly and with a mixture of admiration and resentment, that Bryan Watson had once againe up with a brilliant idea.

    This exnation neatly rified why these wizards were dressed as Death Eaters and why they hadunched their attack. Most ingeniously, itpletely disconnected the supposedly vanquished Dark Lord from this incident, portraying it as the independent plot of a group of deranged fanatics. It was a narrative that allowed the Ministry to maintain the illusion of control while simultaneously distancing themselves from any deeper, more troubling implications.

    In this new light, the Ministry didn''t need to expend much effort on interrogating their captive, the witch named Mnov. People wouldn''t care how many "small fry" the Ministry had caught in their. What the public most wanted to see, what they would demand with increasing enthusiasm in theing days, was the Ministry sending Cliodna, the apparent leader of these lunatics who had nned this shameful attack, to Azkaban.

    If Barty known for his hardline stance against Dark wizards, proposed executing that witch this time, Fudge knew he would agree without hesitation. It would be a decisive action, a clear message to the public that the Ministry was in control and that justice would be swift and merciless.

    As these thoughts raced through his mind, Fudge found himself already thinking along the lines of Bryan Watson''s suggestion. But a nagging question remained, one that endangered the neat narrative they were constructing.

    <em>''Could the Ministry actually capture that mysteriously powerful witch?''</em>

    Without anyone telling him, Fudge knew the answer was an unambiguous no. It was absolutely impossible. They knew nothing about her - her true identity, her whereabouts, absolutely nothing.

    Bryan seemed to have finished speaking, his suggestionid out for their consideration. Fudge looked at him a few times, seeking some sign of what the young wizard was thinking. But Bryan skillfully pretended not to notice. Left with no other option, Fudge had no choice but to turn his pleading gaze once more towards Dumbledore.

    <em>''Lies and deception...''</em> Dumbledore sighed deeply in his heart.

    But reality, Dumbledore knew all too well, isn''t a fairy tale. You can''t always stick to the rules and at the same time hope to mitigate the impact of a crisis as quickly as possible. There are not so many good things in this world that can have the best of both worlds.

    Sometimes, hard choices must be made,promises struck for the greater good.

    "Bryan--" Dumbledore began, his voice soft but carrying easily in the tense silence of the office. He paused, choosing his words carefully.

    Dumbledore had always pursued ideals, striving for a better, more just world. But that didn''t mean he was an idealist, blind to the harsh realities of the world they lived in. And in this matter, as distasteful as it might be, he recognized that lies were necessary.

    "We must catch the culprit to give a justification to the people who were harmed tonight." The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. It was as close as Dumbledore woulde to endorsing the deception, but it was enough.

    Bryan looked up at Dumbledore''s words, their gaze meeting in mid-air. They just stared at each other for a while.

    A momentter, Bryan shifted his gaze to the uneasy Fudge, raising his eyebrows slightly, as a strange smile shed across his lips.

    "I don''t understand--"

    His smile faded, and Bryan spoke in a low voice.

    "Haven''t I already cooperated with the Ministry to catch the culprit?" he continued, his tone one of innocent bewilderment. "Minister, your subordinate Rufus is interrogating her right now. In my opinion, there''s nothing left to interrogate, is there?

    We''ve already uncovered the motive behind this heinous attack. What remains now is to convene the Wizengamot for a formal trial, following all the proper legal procedures, of course." Bryan''s eyes glinted with hardness. "And finally, we must ensure that Cliodna is imprisoned in Azkaban for the remainder of her days. For such a dangerous and depraved criminal, I believe we should prepare a separate, specially secured chamber."

    The suggestion was audacious, bordering on the absurd. Yet, it was delivered with such conviction that it momentarily stunned both Fudge and Dumbledore into silence.

    Quietly, almostically, Fudge''s mouth fell open.

    Under Fudge''s bewildered gaze, Bryan took out the staff he had confiscated from Cliodna. This staff had been passed down for generations among the Druid priests. It was the source of power; without it, that woman Cliodna couldn''t have dueled with him.

    Fudge immediately sat up straight. He stared fixedly at the staff Bryan had produced, his breathing bing lighter. Even a fool would know that this uniquely shaped Staff, inconsistent with wizard traditions, was extraordinary!

    Even Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, his prating gaze sweeping over the grapevine wand. This was a powerful alchemical artifact from another system. A wizard like Dumbledore couldn''t help but be interested. He could sense the extraordinary magic stored in the wand in a peculiar way. But Bryan bringing out his trophy...

    "You''re nning to--" Fudge began, unable to contain his excitement. A flush of unnatural excitement appeared on his pale cheeks, bringing some color back to his face for the first time since the night''s chaotic events had begun. He stared eagerly at Bryan, his expression full of anticipation, like a child on Christmas morning waiting to unwrap a particrly enticing gift.

    Bryan''s response was surprising. With a fluid motion, he took out his own wand and tapped it gently on the staff. In an instant, an identical staff appeared on the table, a perfect replica down to thest intricate carving.

    Without missing a beat, Bryan put away the real staff, stashing it back into the folds of his robes. Then, with a casual flick of his wand, he levitated the fake staff onto the table in front of Fudge. The intention behind this little performance was clear.

    As much as he had been excited before, Fudge was now equally disappointed.

    Mumbling a few incoherent words under his breath, Fudge slumped back into his chair. He had understood Bryan''s meaning.

    "In a moment, I''ll go and remove the fire cage trapping Cliodna. By the way, does the Ministry have wizards skilled in human transfiguration?"

    "Of course, we do!" Fudge, feeling insulted, jumped up again indignantly. "When I was studying at Hogwarts, I got an ''O'' in my OWLs Transfiguration exam!"

    "It was an ''E'', Cornelius--" Dumbledore said with a smile.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0445 Honors?

    0445 Honors?

    Bryan''s idea was already quite clear. He wanted to pin this attack on those fanatic group of dark wizards who initiated it out of twisted sense of worship for the long-vanquished Dark Lord. These people pretended to be ''Death Eaters'' and attacked the stadium. And this was the cleverest part, because telling the British wizardingmunity that the real Death Eaters were bing active again would have immeasurable far-reaching consequences.

    As for Fudge, he needed to find the culprit to let the Ministry of Magic have an exnation on the whole affair, so Bryan gave it to him.

    After all, ording to thew, the underground bounty witch captured by Bryan would need to spend a lifetime in Azkaban anyway. Now she would just do so under a different name.

    However, there was an obvious w in Bryan''s n. Fudge, who had now calmed down and mentally reviewed the entire n, immediately noticed it. This w could potentially turn the Ministry of Magic into apleteughingstock.

    Fudge''s broad forehead, already glistening with a sheen of nervous sweat, furrowed deeply as he voiced his concern. "Having the Wizengamot try the witch who dueled with you, then sending her to Azkaban and ordering the Dementors to keep her in solitary confinement - that''s all within our capabilities, Bryan," he began, his voice tinged with anxiety. "But there''s a rather significant problem we need to address."

    Fudge paused, dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief before continuing. "What if, after we''ve gone through all this trouble, after we''ve put on this show for the public, someone identical appears out there again? What then?!"

    Bryan''s response was immediate and blunt. "If another one really does show up, Minister," he said, his voiceced with a hint of firmness, "it would merely be a poor imitator. If people be confused at that time, I''ll provide an exnation. My word, as the one who defeated her, will be unquestionable."

    Fudge''s face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. He happily pped the table with his uninjured hand, wincing slightly at the impact but too ted to care. "Oh, that''s it! A perfect n!" he eximed, his voice filled with relief and admiration. "Yes, No one could be more authoritative than you in confirming that witch''s identity, Bryan. After all, you defeated her, and you still have her Staff in your hands!"

    As their in-depth discussion concluded, Fudge felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The pressure that had been crushing him mere moments ago now seemed to dissipate like morning mist. He knew that making this lie eptable would require keeping quite a few people''s mouths shut, but it was ultimately a clear path forward. It would require effort, certainly, but it was far preferable to the alternative of admitting the truth and facing the ensuing panic.

    Fudge''s mind wandered, reflecting on recent events. This was the second time Bryan Watson had used his intellect to rescue the Ministry of Magic from the brink of copse. Moreover, tonight he had directly saved the lives of tens of thousands of wizards.

    Well, that wasn''t quite urate to say, Fudge realized. He had been in the VIP box too, witnessing the whole affair unfold before his very eyes. If Bryan hadn''t suddenly appeared, that mysterious witch would have probably left after kidnapping Harry Potter, and the subsequent duel wouldn''t have happened at all.

    This was very awkward! On one hand, the Ministry of Magic owed Bryan Watson an enormous debt of gratitude. His quick thinking and magical prowess had undoubtedly prevented a potential catastrophe. On the other hand, the sheer power that Bryan Watson possessed was now a source of extreme vignce and difort for the Ministry.

    This young and formidable wizard didn''t seem to be cut from the same cloth as Dumbledore. He was aggressive and unlike Dumbledore, didn''t strictly adhere to principles. Dealing with such a unique and potentially vtile individual required careful handling ¨C they couldn''t afford to offend him, yet they must remain on guard at all times.

    With an uncertain solution to the most troublesome issue at hand, Fudge finally turned his full attention to Bryan. The young wizard stood before him, his posture rxed yet somehow still emanating an aura of barely contained power.

    Fudge opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. Once again, he looked to Dumbledore for help, his eyes pleading silently. This time, however, Dumbledore pretended not to notice, his twinkling blue eyes fixed on some distant point beyond the office walls.

    "Ahem-" Fudge cleared his throat awkwardly.

    He immediately realized that Dumbledore had no intention of intervening this time. Everything was up to him now. Fudge clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white with the effort, and cleared his throat twice more. He then put on what he hoped was a warm, grateful for Bryan, though it came across as more of a nervous grimace.

    "You''ve helped the Ministry of Magic again, Bryan," Fudge began, his voice wavering slightly before steadying. "You''ve guided the British wizarding world through yet another major crisis. I... I don''t know how to thank you properly!"

    Bryan returned the minister''s awkward smile with a polite one of his own, his piercing gaze never wavering. "You''re too kind, Minister," he replied smoothly, his voice carrying just a hint of amusement. "This is simply what I should do, I''d be immensely grateful if you could just ensure that Headmaster Dumbledore doesn''t confine me to Hogwarts and forbid me from going out-"

    Fudge''s face immediately turned a deep shade of purple at Bryan''s words. He stuttered, unable to form a coherent response, while even Dumbledore gave a wry smile upon hearing Bryan speak so boldly.

    "Ahem, you surely know this is just a joke, Bryan," Fudge finally managed to say, struggling to suppress his embarrassment. His mind raced, frantically searching for a way to continue the conversation without losing face. "No one could imprison a hero who saved the entire wizarding world-"

    He paused, wracking his brains for something, anything, to say next. Suddenly, an idea struck him. "I bet, Bryan, that your photo will be on the front page of the Daily Prophet for the next month, at least! Topics about you won''t fade until Christmas, I''m sure. People will discuss every single thing that happens to you with bated breath."

    Fudge''s voice grew more confident as he continued, "Of course, the Ministry will also honor you officially ¨C a First ss Order of Merlin, I''m absolutely certain I can get that approved for you without any trouble at all."

    Bryan''s smile widened slightly, a glimmer of something unreadable passing through his eyes. "Oh, I already have that honor, Minister," he replied smoothly, looking at Fudge with an intrigued expression that made him squirm ufortably. "It was awarded to me when I took down Fenrir Greyback, if you recall."

    "Oh, is that so? Ahem, I mean-" Fudge''s throat suddenly felt as if it were filled with the stench of a thousand dungbombs, making him cough continuously. He tugged at his cor, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. "Of course, I remember that! How could I forget?"

    As Fudge struggled to regain hisposure, his mind raced. Although if Bryan hadn''t appeared tonight, theter duel that could have affected everyone wouldn''t have happened at all, he knew that ordinary people wouldn''t think of that. They would only believe that if it weren''t for Bryan Watson, the international audience at the Quidditch World Cup Final would have suffered heavy casualties.

    It would be inexcusable for the Ministry of Magic, let alone the International Confederation of Wizards, not to honor Bryan Watson in some significant way. But what could the Ministry of Magic offer to truly thank Bryan Watson, a wizard who seemed to have everything already?

    Honor? Bryan already had a First-ss Order of Merlin, the highest honor the wizarding world could bestow.

    Wealth? When Bryan took down Greyback, many famouspanies had approached him, willing to offer astronomical sums just to have him endorse their products. But Bryan had refused them all without exception, seemingly uninterested in material gain. Besides, merely offering money to appease Bryan Watson would not only potentially anger him but also be uneptable to the wizarding public. They would see it as an insult to their hero.

    Power? Bryan was already essentially the second-inmand at Hogwarts after Dumbledore, wielding considerable influence over the next generation of witches and wizards. He was also a senior advisor to the Ministry of Magic. If they wanted to give more real power to a wizard with such distinguished merits as Bryan, it would have to be at least a department head or deputy minister position. But this was precisely what Fudge was most reluctant to do, fearing the concentration of too much influence in the hands of this powerful young wizard.

    The deeper Fudge delved into this issue, the more desperate he felt.

    He couldn''t force Dumbledore to step down and make Bryan Watson the headmaster of Hogwarts... Although,e to think of it, Dumbledore had indeed reached retirement age. And having these two simultaneously at Hogwarts wasn''t a good choice either. If they decided to scheme something together... With Dumbledore''s wisdom and unparalleled prestigebined with the power Bryan had demonstrated, plus the intelligence of both men, the Ministry would be utterly powerless to resist.

    <strong>Knock, knock, knock-</strong>

    Suddenly, a series of urgent knocks sounded from outside the office, cutting through the tension. Under normal circumstances, such a confidential meeting would never allow interruptions. The wards and charms ced on the Minister''s office should have prevented anyone from even approaching the door uninvited. But at this moment, the heavy knocking sounded like heavenly music to Fudge''s ears, making him overjoyed at the prospect of a distraction from his current predicament.

    Although separated by the thick door, both Bryan and Dumbledore had already sensed who the visitor was. Dumbledore''s brow furrowed slightly, the twinkle in his blue eyes dimming for a moment. Bryan, listening to the persistent, impolite knocking, lowered his gaze, a fleeting coldness passing through his eyes like a shadow across the sun.

    "Who is it?" Fudge stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his chair in his haste. His expression and tone were much lighter now, almost jovial. "Come in directly!"

    <strong>Whoosh-</strong>

    The door was pushed open at once, the heavy wood swinging inward with surprising force. The neer''s pale, pointed face was painted with carefully prepared anger, his grey eyes shing with indignation. However, when he discovered that the office contained not only Cornelius Fudge but also Albus Dumbledore and tonight''s sensation, Bryan Watson, the anger on the visitor''s face suddenly froze.

    His foot, half-stepped out, also froze in mid-air, neither advancing nor retreating. The man''s usualposure and aristocratic air seemed to have abandoned himpletely, leaving him lookingically off-bnce.

    "Oh, Lucius?" Fudge eximed, blinking in surprise. He struggled to keep the relief out of his voice as he addressed the unexpected visitor. "How did you find your way here... Come to think of it, your wife and son weren''t harmed in tonight''s... er, chaos, were they?"

    "I inquired and learned that you had returned to the Ministry first, Minister Fudge," Lucius said slowly. "But I wasn''t aware you were entertaining... guests."

    Bearing the gazes of the three most powerful wizards in British magical society simultaneously, Lucius behaved much more properly than he had initially intended. He slowly lowered his foot, the expensive dragon-hide boot making contact with the plush carpet without a sound. He greeted Fudge with a slight bow, then nodded almost imperceptibly to Dumbledore, his lips tightening as he did so.

    Finally, Lucius''s gaze fell on Bryan Watson. The veins on his forehead twitched violently, and for a moment, he felt an urge to turn tail and run, propriety be damned.

    "Oh, we were just about done-" Fudge said hurriedly, eager to diffuse the weird air that had suddenly filled the room. Even when Lucius was pulling handfuls of gold galleons from his pocket to ''donate'' to various Ministry causes, Fudge had never found Lucius Malfoy so pleasing to the eye as he did at this moment. He eagerly waved at Lucius, gesturing for him to enter fully. "Don''t be shy, Lucius,e in. We''ve just about wrapped up our important business."

    Fudge paused, a thought suddenly urring to him. "So, you''vee to see me about... ahem, if it''s about that cauldron workshop legition fromst time, we can discuss itter. Muchter, preferably," he added under his breath.

    <em>''We''re just about done''</em>

    Hearing these words, a sh of panic passed through Lucius''s gray eyes. Just moments ago, he had been unsure whether to leave, his usual confidence shaken by the unexpected presence of Dumbledore and Watson. But now, he immediately made his decision.

    Lucius took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling beneath his expensive, tailored robes. With practiced ease, he slipped back into his persona of the outraged citizen. After closing the door with a soft click, he spoke in a stiff tone.

    "It''s not about the workshop, Minister Fudge," Lucius said, his voice cold enough to frost the windows. "What I want to discuss is precisely my wife and son!"

    Fudge''s bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What about them?" he asked, a note of genuine concern creeping into his voice. Despite his many faults, Fudge did care about the well-being of prominent wizarding families ¨C especially those with deep pockets and political influence.

    "They were injured in the chaos!" Lucius said coldly.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0446 Crumbling World

    0446 Crumbling World

    "They were injured in the chaos!" Lucius Malfoy eximed, his voice rising to a near-shout. His pale, pointed face was contorted with rage, eyes shing dangerously as he red at Fudge.

    A flicker of light passed through Bryan''s eyes before they quickly settled back into their usual inscrutable calm.

    Dumbledore could not possibly like Lucius Malfoy, who constantly schemed to bring him down and had even acted on it, causing severe consequences. However, upon hearing that Malfoy''s wife and son were injured in tonight''s attack, Dumbledore immediately showed concern.

    "What happened, Lucius?" Dumbledore asked, his voice soft yet urgent. He spoke even before Fudge could answer, leaning forward slightly in his chair. "What harm has young Mr. Malfoy suffered?"

    The Malfoy family, particrly Lucius, had been a significant financial backer of the Ministry of Magic under Fudge''s leadership. Their generous ''donations'' had paved the way for many of Fudge''s initiatives. Hearing that Lucius Malfoy''s wife and son were injured, Fudge couldn''t dismiss it as a trivial matter. Since Dumbledore had already asked, Fudge remained silent, looking at Lucius Malfoy with equal concern.

    "We were victims of a terrorist attack!" Lucius said in a rare impolite tone.

    "While evacuating," he continued, his voice trembling slightly with anger, "Narcissa and I engaged in a duel with the dark wizards whounched the attack. We were protecting a young Swiss girl, separated from her parents in the chaos.

    We managed to drive the attackers away, but Narcissa was hit with a powerful stunning spell while protecting the girl. She''s still unconscious. And Draco... my son''s arm was injured in themotion!"

    "Oh, how unfortunate¡ª" Fudge said, his voice tinged with a mixture of shame and political calction. He tugged at his cor, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air of the office.

    "This incident urred so suddenly, we¡ª I mean, the Ministry''s preparations were indeed inadequate. I should visit your wife and child, Lucius, but it''ll have to wait."

    Fudge''s eyes darted nervously around the room, as if seeking an escape from this ufortable situation. "As you know, the Ministry is facing unprecedented challenges, and I can''t leave my post at the moment. The wizardingmunity needs leadership in these times."

    The idea that the Malfoy family would step up to protect a stranger''s child and duel with dark wizards was something that even Dumbledore, with all his capacity for seeing the best in people, found difficult to swallow. It went against everything he knew about Lucius Malfoy and his self-serving nature.

    A strange light shed in Dumbledore''s piercing blue eyes, hidden momentarily behind his half-moon spectacles. He realized that Lucius Malfoy''s purpose in rushing to the Ministry to find Fudge at this critical juncture couldn''t possibly be just to lodge aint about his family''s injuries, no matter how serious they were.

    Dumbledore''s gaze shifted towards Bryan, seeking some hint on this unexpected turn of events. But Bryan''s face was expressionless showing none of his inner thoughts. When met with Dumbledore''s questioning look, Bryan''s lips twitched slightly, revealing a brief, mocking smile that vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

    As Dumbledore''s sharp gaze returned to Lucius Malfoy, his eyes grew deep and pensive.

    Fudge, oblivious to the subtle exchange between Dumbledore and Bryan, continued to face theining Lucius Malfoy with a mixture of embarrassment and guilt etched across his round face, until¡ª

    "Of course, I understand the difficulties you and the Ministry are facing right now, Minister Fudge¡ª" The usually smooth and confident Lucius Malfoy had never shown such a stern face to the Minister of Magic before. Tonight, however, he stood with straight back before Fudge, his pale gray eyes flickering with an inner fire that seemed almost foreign on his aristocratic features.

    "But I must seek justice for Narcissa and Draco, mustn''t I, Minister?" Lucius continued, his voice rising with each word. "I must find out what these evil dark wizards are really up to, why theyunched this attack¡ª"

    Lucius paused, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing. His eyes, wild with a hint of fear and determination, darted quickly between Bryan and Dumbledore before settling back on Fudge. When he spoke again, his voice was harsh, almost grating.

    "I want the truth, Minister," he demanded, leaning forward slightly. "So, I asked around with friends in the Ministry. Someone told me the Department has captured a live one¡ª"

    The atmosphere in the room changed instantly, as if a dementor had suddenly glided in.

    "What are you trying to do, Lucius!" Fudge eximed, his voice rising an octave in rm. The minister, who had been mild-mannered and apologetic just moments ago, suddenly became guarded. His eyes, usually warm and inviting when dealing with influential purebloods like Malfoy, were now filled with wariness, without any trace of their usual kindness.

    Fudge had already made his decision to follow Bryan''s advice, and Mnov, the dark witch captured by Bryan, was now the linchpin in Fudge''s hastily constructed n. He needed to use this equally heinous viiness to provide an exnation that would satisfy both the British magicalmunity and the wider Wizarding World!

    The greatest difficulty in managing this delicate situation was maintaining absolute secrecy. The fact that Lucius Malfoy dared to waltz into his office, brazenly inquiring about Mnov, sent rm bells ringing in Fudge''s mind. His political instincts, honed by years of navigating the treacherous waters of magical politics, were screaming at him that something was very, very wrong.

    "Who told you the Ministry had captured a live one, Lucius?" Fudge demanded, his voice stern and unyielding. The change in his demeanor was so abrupt that even Dumbledore raised an eyebrow in surprise. "What are you trying to find out!"

    Lucius Malfoy''s carefully constructed facade of righteous indignation crumbled in the face of the angry Minister of Magic. The tough exterior he had been projecting since bursting into the office melted away like snow in summer. Confronted with Fudge''s direct questioning, Lucius, still unclear about the full scope of the situation, found his expression turning bewildered, his tone immediately softening.

    "A... a friend in the Ministry, Minister Fudge¡ª" Lucius stammered, his pale lips pursing as he struggled to maintain hisposure. Gone was the fire in his eyes, reced by a flicker of uncertainty. "I just... just hoped to know quickly why these dark wizardsmitted their crimes, who''smanding them. Narcissa and Draco, my wife and son, were both injured, Minister. I have the right to know these things, don''t I? So, when I heard the Ministry was conducting an interrogation, I came immediately to see¡ª"

    "Just because of that?" Fudge''s eyes narrowed suspiciously, boring into Lucius as if trying to peer into the very depths of his soul.

    The tension in the room heightened up by another notch.

    "Absolutely true, Minister Fudge!" Lucius Malfoy insisted, his voice taking on an earnest quality that seemed almost distanting from his lips.

    This exnation, on the surface, sounded reasonable enough. A concerned husband and father, seeking answers about an attack that had harmed his family - it was a story that would tug at the heartstrings of any decent wizard. But Lucius Malfoy''s reputation for cunning and maniption was well-known, even among the pureblood wizarding families who counted him as an ally.

    Fudge, having regained his political wariness, chose not to take Malfoy''s words at face value. Or rather, regardless of Lucius Malfoy''s true reasons foring to probe for information, Fudge had already decided that he would never allow him to see Mnov. The risks were simply too great.

    "The Ministry is investigating, Lucius," Fudge said cautiously. "We''ll issue a noticeter, once we have all the facts. What you should do now is go back and take good care of your wife and son. They need you more than we do right now."

    Lucius Malfoy''s unexpected visit and his imed reasons had given Fudge a keen sense of crisis. The night wasn''t over, yet news of their captive had already begun to spread. Merlin only knew how much crucial information would leak in theing hours if he didn''t act quickly to contain the situation.

    A cold realization washed over Fudge. Rufus was currently interrogating Mnov, and Fudge suddenly understood that he needed to put a stop to it immediately. If they mistreated the dark witch too severely, he wouldn''t be able to have Mnov face the Wizengamot''s trial wearing Cliodna''s face, and subsequently be imprisoned in Azkaban under the watchful eyes of Daily Prophet reporters. The entire n would crumble before it even began.

    "If there''s nothing else, you may leave, Lucius," Fudge said, his tone brooking no argument. "The Ministry will provide an exnation about the truth behind the attack as quickly as possible. Also," he added, a hint of harshness entering his voice, "you can help spread the word that the Ministry will surely capture the leaders of these dark wizards, with Bryan''s help."

    At these words, Lucius''s heart seemed to stop beating for several agonizing seconds. The blood drained from his already pale face, leaving him looking like a ghost in expensive robes. Moreover, the coldness in Bryan''s smile made Lucius Malfoy feel as if he were standing naked in the heart of a raging blizzard, as every inch of his skin became numb with a bone-deep chill.

    Having dealt with Ministry politicians for years, Lucius Malfoy knew their nature all too well. Under normal circumstances, they were more than willing to bend somews for a handful of shiny Galleons, their principles were as flexible as a well-oiled Quidditch yer. But when their own positions were at stake, they would immediately turn their backs on even the closest of friends, discarding allies like used tissues.

    And the conspiracy he had nned this time... it fell directly into the category of absolutely unforgivable.

    At the horrifying thought that the Malfoy family might be ruined because of his actions, Lucius Malfoy''s face turned ashen. His fists clenched involuntarily inside his sleeves, trembling with a mixture of fear and impotent rage.

    Fudge''s mind was entirely focused on Mnov, the captured dark witch who was being interrogated. In his preupation, he failed to notice Lucius Malfoy''s unusual expression.

    "Lucius?" Fudge called out impatiently, jolting Lucius from his spiral of dread.

    "Oh, I''m here, Minister¡ª" Lucius responded hurriedly, his breath catching in his throat. He looked towards Fudge, only to find the Minister of Magic''s eyes conveying an obvious hint for him to get lost.

    Fudge, Dumbledore, and Bryan left the Minister''s office together, with Lucius Malfoy following behind in a daze. His usual graceful stride was gone, reced by the uncertain steps of a man walking to the gallows.

    <strong>Ding¡ª</strong>

    The elevator arrived with a cheerful chime that seemed wildly out of ce given the weird atmosphere. A cold voice announced the floor, and Fudge and Dumbledore were the first to enter the elevator, but Bryan suddenly stopped.

    "Minister and Headmaster Dumbledore, you go ahead," Bryan said, his voice smooth and pleasant. "I''d like a word with Mr. Malfoy about Draco''s performance in my ss."

    Fudge blinked in surprise, his bushy eyebrows rising towards his receding hairline. "Oh, at a time like this?" he asked, bewilderment clear in his tone. After a moment''s hesitation, he added reluctantly, "Well, alright, Bryan. You''re truly a responsible professor. Make it quick¡ª"

    Bryan nodded with a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes. As the elevator car disappeared from view, descending into the depths of the Ministry, Bryan slowly turned to face Lucius Malfoy. The corridor suddenly seemed much darker, the shadows deeper and more menacing.

    Although his mind was in chaos from fear, Lucius wasn''t foolish enough to believe that Bryan Watson actually wanted to discuss Draco''s ssroom performance.

    "Mr. Watson," Lucius began, his voice barely above a whisper. Truthfully, he would rather be thrown directly into Azkaban by the Ministry than face Bryan Watson alone. The memory of theirst encounter at the Leaky Cauldron rose in his mind - the fear this young and powerful wizard had instilled in him was something he had only experienced in the presence of the Dark Lord himself. And tonight, Bryan Watson had finally showed his true dominance to the entire Wizarding world!

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    The sudden noise made Lucius flinch violently. Bryan''s face before him was a mask of cold indifference, but the light in his pale purple eyes was so chilly it seemed capable of freezing one''s very soul. Under the invisible influence of surging magical power, the corridor lights began to flicker erratically.

    The magical pressure in the air built to a crescendo, and suddenly -

    <strong>Pop! Pop! Pop!</strong>

    One by one, the light bulbs burst in a torrent of shattering ss and dying light. The sound of breaking bulbs felt like a series of heavy hammer blows striking Lucius Malfoy''s heart. The darkness that engulfed them was broken only by the eerie glow emanating from Bryan''s eyes.

    Feeling weak, his legs were no longer able to support him, Lucius copsed to the ground with a dull thud.

    "This is the second time I''ve shown you mercy, Lucius Malfoy. There won''t be a next time."

    Without another word, Bryan turned and entered the elevator. The doors closed with a soft hiss, and he disappeared from the floor, leaving behind a pale and bloodless Lucius Malfoy, staring nkly at the pitch-ck elevator shaft.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0447 Regrets

    0447 Regrets

    Bryan''s footsteps echoed softly against the polished floors as he descended to the second basement level in the Ministry of Magic''s elevator. The golden grilles slid open with a gentle ng, revealing the domain of Amelia Bones''s Department of Magical Law Enforcement. This floor housed the most powerful armed organization in the Ministry- the Auror Office.

    But ,the entire Ministry was eerily empty, and this floor was no exception. As Bryan stepped out of the elevator, his keen eyes scanning the dimly lit corridor, Dumbledore''s familiar voice rang out from the right, cutting through the oppressive silence.

    "This way, Bryan,"

    The architecture of the Ministry''s second basement level seemed deliberately designed to emphasize the significance of magicalw. Stark and cold, the corridors were a somber palette of cks and grays, apart from the portraits of past heads of the department hanging on the corridor walls, there were no decorations.

    Bryan turned a few corners in the maze like corridors and found Dumbledore standing at the entrance to a staircase leading further down. The ming torches on either side of the entrance casted a golden glow on Dumbledore''s silver-white beard.

    "Cornelius was in quite a hurry to give somest-minute instructions to the head of the Auror Office," Dumbledore exined with a smile, "I was concerned you might lose your way in this maze, so I thought it prudent to wait for you here."

    Bryan nodded slightly, "Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Amelia''s office is on the other side, and I''ve never ventured this deep into the Ministry before. It''s quite thebyrinth down here."

    The staircase before them plunged underground, bearing a striking resemnce to the one leading to the Wizengamot courtrooms. It was shrouded in darkness, the air growing noticeably colder with each step downward. The atmosphere was heavy as this was where Aurors likely conducted temporary detentions and intense interrogations of the dangerous magical criminals. As, both Dumbledore and Bryan were powerful wizards, they could easily find their footing on each step even in the darkness.

    As they descended, Dumbledore''s cheerful voice cut through the gloomy surroundings. "I couldn''t help but notice, Bryan," he began, a hint of amusement in his tone, "that you might have missed an opportunity to demand a rather hefty fee from Cornelius earlier. Not that I''m suggesting you should have, of course."

    Bryan chuckled softly, "Rest assured, I won''t let Fudge off that easily," he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Though, of course, I wasn''t nning to ask for an exorbitant amount. I do have some restraint." He paused for a moment, then added with a smirk, "By the way, Mr. Chairman of the International Confederation of Wizards, I''m curious - does the ICW have any official stance on my brave and fearless performance tonight?"

    Dumbledore''s eyes twinkled as he responded, "Objectively speaking, Bryan, the International Confederation of Wizards is a rather... impoverished organization. Most of the funds required to keep it operationale from various Ministries of Magic. If you''re hoping I''ll present you with arge sum of galleons, I''m afraid that''s quite out of the question." He stroked his beard thoughtfully before continuing, "However, if it''s prestige you''re after, well, that''s an entirely different matter. I''d wager that by tomorrow morning, my office will be flooded with at least twenty owls delivering letters of rmendation, all moring to invite you to be a Vice-Chairman."

    "Vice-Chairman?" Bryan scoffed yfully. "If it were for the position of Chairman, I might consider it."

    Bryan''s jest elicited another chuckle from Dumbledore.

    After this yful conversation, they finally reached the bottom of the stairs. The area that greeted them was a stark contrast to the polished upper levels of the Ministry. Bryan''s gaze lingered on these chambers, his imagination running wild. He could almost hear faint, ghostly wails emanating from behind each heavy door. The air seeping through the cracks seemed saturated with the metallic scent of blood.

    The two stopped before a particrly ominous door. Unlike the others, this one had golden firelight spilling through its cracks. Dumbledore turned to face Bryan, his expression suddenly serious, the twinkle in his eyes reced by a prating gaze.

    "So, Bryan," Dumbledore began, his voice low and leisurely, "did you inquire about Malfoy''s true purpose in orchestrating this attack?"

    Bryan wasn''t surprised by Dumbledore''s abrupt question. Slowly, he shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "I didn''t ask him anything directly," Bryan admitted. "I just gave him some warnings. As for his purpose..." He paused, considering his words carefully. "Well, I guess the unusual activity of the Dark Mark over the past few months has made him increasingly uneasy. Especially considering he practically handed Voldemort''s Horcrux to us on a silver tter. My guess is he''s terrified of facing Voldemort''s wrath when he inevitably returns. This attack... it''s likely a desperate attempt to prove he''s still capable of evil."

    Dumbledore nodded slowly, processing Bryan''s words. He could follow the logic of Bryan''s deductions regarding Lucius Malfoy''s motives. However, a slight furrow appeared between his silver-white eyebrows, and a flicker of confusion passed through his piercing blue eyes. It wasn''t Malfoy''s reasons for this mischief that perplexed him, but rather Bryan''s surprisingly lenient attitude towards the Death Eater.

    Bryan was not one to tolerate any form of deception or maniption. If he were truly enraged about this incident, the Malfoy family would undoubtedly have faced severe consequences. Yet, Bryan had merely issued a warning to Lucius - an action that seemed oddly out of character. Unless, Dumbledore pondered, Bryan wasn''t genuinely concerned about this matter and had his own ns for Lucius Malfoy.

    Respect had always been the cornerstone of their rtionship, the prerequisite for their friendly coexistence. Whatever Bryan''s thoughts about Lucius Malfoy might be, Dumbledore decided it was best not to interfere or pry further.

    After giving Bryan, whose expression remained expressionless, a long, searching look, Dumbledore turned away. He raised his hand and knocked firmly on the imposing door before them.

    *Scene-break*

    "Well, it seems our little adventure for tonight ends here. There are plenty of rooms upstairs, you can choose whichever you like. If you want something to eat, just call for Kreacher¡ª"

    Bryan had already left, and Dumbledore''s Patronus had also vanished on the spot.

    After chatting for a few more minutes, Sirius, who had been through a fierce battle and whose robes were stained red with blood, finally couldn''t hold on any longer. He needed to go back to his room to tend to his wounds. After giving instructions, Sirius waved goodbye to everyone and dragged his weary body upstairs.

    Bill and Charlie Weasley, equally battered and exhausted from the night''s events, weren''t far behind. They gave weak smiles and brief waves to Harry before hurriedly making their way upstairs, no doubt eager to copse into their beds. Fred and George, uncharacteristically quiet, followed closely on their older brothers'' heels.

    As the older Weasleys disappeared up the stairs, Ron''s attention turned to his younger sister, Ginny, who remained rooted to her spot in the room. His brow furrowed in a mixture of concern and irritation. "Why aren''t you going up yet?" Ron said, his tone gruffer than he perhaps intended.

    Ginny''s eyes shed dangerously as she turned to face her brother. "What''s it to you where I am, Weasley!" she spat back, her voice dripping with defiance. However, as her gaze flickered towards Harry and she noticed his hesitant expression, a shadow of gloom passed over her face, dulling the fire in her eyes.

    Hermione had noticed the exchange and Ginny''s sudden change in demeanor. "Ginny has the right to stay wherever she wants, Ron," she said, her voice tinged with irritation at Ron''s overbearing behavior.

    Despite Hermione''s defense, Ginny didn''t linger. With a contemptuous snort directed at Ron, she lifted her chin defiantly and strode towards the stairs.

    "I''m her brother!" Ron''s voice, filled with indignation at Ginny''s attitude, could be heard throughout the first floor of the mansion.

    Hermione rolled her eyes dramatically at Ron''s outburst. "Oh, give it a rest, Weasley, and shut your mouth," she said, exasperation clear in her tone. Without waiting for a response, she made her way back into the garden, leaving Ron sputtering in her wake.

    Sirius''s tent was indeed luxurious. Like the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, it could reflect the scene outside. Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to their seats at the table in the garden, basking in the starlight and enjoying the tranquility after the fierce battle.

    Both Harry and Hermione had participated in tonight''s fight, with Harry having faced the most dangerous situation. The red swelling on his arm was a souvenir from that dark witch Mnov''s vicious whip. If it hadn''t been for the timely intervention of another powerful dark witch, Harry knew he might well be lying in a bed at St. Mungo''s Hospital right now, rather than sitting here under the stars.

    Hermione, too, bore the marks of battle. Her clothes, bought during a pleasant summer shopping trip with her parents at a Muggle mall, were now little more than tattered rags. She gazed dejectedly at the multiple tears in her once-favorite jacket, her mood visibly dampened by its destruction. With a resigned sigh, she shrugged off the dusty, ruined jacket and draped it over the armrest of her chair.

    As Hermione looked up, her eyes fell on Harry and Ron. Both boys were staring at the table, lost in their own thoughts.

    Harry''s concerns were obvious¡ª The appearance of the powerful dark witch and the shadowy figure that was almost certainly Voldemort were enough to give him a headache.

    Ron''s pensive expression, however, piqued Hermione''s curiosity. It was unusual to see him so deep in thought, especially after such an eventful night.

    "What are you thinking about, Mr. Weasley?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

    Ron''s head snapped up at her words. "Oh, can''t you call me something else, Miss Granger?" he grumbled, rolling his eyes. But the moment of light-heartedness was short-lived, and his expression quickly became somber once more. "I was thinking," he began, then hesitated, as if unsure whether to continue. Finally, he pressed on, "I was wondering whether my decision to quit Professor Watson''s ss was too hasty."

    Hermione''s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and beside her, Harry raised his head to look at Ron with a mixture of shock and curiosity. Noticing their expressions, Ron''s ears turned pink, and he grumbled, "Alright, I know you both probably think I''m being stupid!"

    Hermione pursed her lips, considering her words carefully, and asked in a neutral tone. "What made you change your mind, Ron?"

    ''Is there even any need to ask this?'' Harryined in his heart.

    At Hogwarts, no one doubted that Professor Watson was a wizard with extraordinary magical prowess. Even in the European magicalmunity, the Head of Hogwarts Student Safety Office, who had single-handedly wiped out Greyback''s notorious werewolf gang, was highly respected. But no one had anticipated that Professor Watson could be this powerful. No, to be precise, no one could have imagined that a wizard''s power could actually burn mountains to ashes and conjure forests that reached the sky.

    Harry could bet his Firebolt that if Professor Watson were to open enrollment to the entire Wizarding world now, even if he really did teach Muggle sports at Hogwarts, there would be more aspiring students than the Quidditch pitch could possibly hold. It was perfectly understandable for Ron to feel a twinge of regret at having dropped the ss.

    However, it was only tonight that Harry truly realized the practical value of Professor Watson''s unorthodox training methods. If it weren''t for the enhanced reflexes and physical conditioning, he had developed in those grueling physical education sses, that dark witch called Mnov might well have ended his life tonight.

    Harry thought since Professor Watson had made it explicitly clear that he would not ept any young wizards who had abandoned the physical education ss back into the course. A wizard of Professor Watson''s caliber would never go back on his word, so even if Ron was experiencing regret now, there was little he could do to change the situation.

    Hermione''s raised eyebrows slowly lowered as she processed Ron''s words. Not wanting to upset him further or rub salt in the wound, she turned her gaze to Harry, trying to change the subject.

    "What about you?" she asked softly. "What are you thinking about, Harry?"

    *******************************

    Author''s Note:

    Hi everyone,

    I wanted to let you know that I have to go somewhere today and will be away until the day after tomorrow. I will post today''s chapter but tomorrow i may not be able to post. The updates will be regr from the day i return.

    Thank you for your understanding and support!

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

 0448 Concerns

    0448 Concerns

    Facing Hermione''s inquisitive gaze, Harry opened his mouth, but the words seemed to catch in his throat.

    What was he thinking about? The events of the night had left him with a whirlwind of thoughts and concerns swirling in his mind.

    The Ministry and Professor Dumbledore had summoned Professor Watson at this critical juncture, no doubt to discuss how to properly handle the shocking attack at the Quidditch World Cup stadium. What would be the final oue of this vtile situation? Harry couldn''t help but wonder.

    Voldemort''s powerful minions had appeared at the Quidditch World Cup stadium tonight, with the purpose of kidnapping him. How had Voldemort managed to recruit a witch capable of engaging in such a grandiose duel with Professor Watson?? And what exactly was the history between Professor Watson and that dark witch?

    The group of dark wizards who had initiated themotion, Remus had said they were Death Eaters. But based on the information revealed by the words of the witch caught by Professor Watson among the three who had barged into the top box, their clear objective had not been Harry. Their target had been Sirius, with Mnov even mentioning that Sirius'' head was worth ten thousand Galleons.

    "I was thinking¡ª" Harry began, his voice hesitant at first. He paused, then ultimately set aside the matters rted to Professor Watson, focusing instead on the more immediate concerns.

    "The three who broke into our box, their target should have been Sirius, not me," Harry said, his emerald eyes bright with realization.

    "Of course, Harry!" Ron immediately affirmed, nodding vigorously. "The way they acted after getting in made it obvious - they were clearly out to kill Sirius!"

    Reassured by Ron''s confirmation, Harry became instantly energized, shifting in his seat to sit up straighter.

    "I told you all that when Lucius Malfoy came into the box tonight, he threatened Sirius. And they left the stadium before themotion even started - isn''t that strange? That was the World Cup final, who wouldn''t want to see the oue? Sirius probably thinks the same way, I bet he won''t let Lucius Malfoy off the hook!"

    "That means!"

    Ron''s expression shifted to one of dreamy anticipation, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint.

    "Maybe by the time school starts, we might see Malfoy lugging his bags and getting kicked out of Hogwarts, because his father plotted that terrible terrorist attack!"

    "Don''t be ridiculous, Ron!" Hermione interjected, her arms crossed over her chest as she spoke bluntly. "Even if Lucius Malfoy was involved in this, it doesn''t have anything to do with Draco. The Ministry and Hogwarts won''t expel him just for that--"

    "Oh, Hermione, you''re ruining my mood--" Ron said sulkily, puckering his lips in a childish pout, but Hermione simply ignored his reaction. She then turned her attention to Harry, her gaze shifting slightly as she spoke with less certainty.

    "Harry, the wizard who appeared at the end and rescued that woman named Cliodna - how confident are you that he was...the You-Know-Who?"

    <em>''How confident?''</em>

    Harry''s brow furrowed in confusion as he looked at Hermione, not fully understanding why she would ask such a question. Wasn''t it obvious?

    He had recalled certain details from his previous dream, where Voldemort and Cliodna had been plotting in an old house, and the core of their plot had been to capture him. Cliodna had explicitly stated that she wanted to take him, clearly to bring him to Voldemort to torture and kill him. And the searing pain in his scar tonight had definitively confirmed that the grotesque-looking wizard who had appeared at the end was indeed Voldemort.

    Hermione seemed to get the answer she wanted from the confusion etched on Harry''s face, but this did not make her rx her expression. Instead, her brow furrowed deeply, a clear sign of her growing unease.

    "I don''t quite understand¡ª" Hermione murmured, her gaze shifting skyward, as if seeking answers in the vast expanse of the starry heavens above.

    "It sounds reasonable, and Sirius seems to think so too, but just now, Professor Watson''s demeanor..." She trailed off, her wordsced with uncertainty.

    Harry and Ron exchanged a perplexed nce, neither fully grasping the implications behind Hermione''s cryptic statement.

    "What about Professor Watson? Is there something off about him?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of concern and urgency, given the undeniable involvement of Voldemort in the night''s events.

    "Nothing--" Hermione sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I think Professor Watson probably won''t exin your and Sirius'' suspicions to the Ministry, Harry. Most likely, he''ll want you to keep this discovery to yourselves."

    "Why!" Harry''s brow furrowed, his mind struggling toprehend Hermione''s reasoning. "Are you saying Professor Watson is afraid of Voldemort?"

    If it were anyone else, knowing they were facing the most evil and cruel dark wizard of all time, and having soundly defeated him when he was in a weakened state, they might feel uneasy and fear retaliation in the future. But Professor Watson and Professor Dumbledore, Harry believed, were not the type of wizards to be swayed by such concerns.

    "Of course not, Harry--" Hermione spoke calmly, her gaze sharp as she looked directly at him. "I think the reason Professor Watson will keep this a secret is not because he''s afraid of Voldemort and retaliation, but because of you, Harry. Do you really think the Ministry would be thrilled to hear that tonight''s events are connected to You-Know-Who who has disappeared for us and died for them for over a decade? If Professor Watson tells the Ministry about your findings, he''d have to provide evidence proving it was You-Know-Who. What evidence do you think he has?"

    Harry immediately opened his mouth, wanting to share what he had seen in his dream. But the words were caught in his throat.

    The most reliable evidence wasn''t his scar, but the contents of his dream. However, would the Minister of Magic readily believe the visions of a young wizard? To be honest, even Harry himself hadn''t been fully convinced at first, and besides...

    "I see, Harry--" Hermione''s confident tone had disappeared as she exined, reced by a worried one.

    "Are you nning to tell the Ministry about your ability to see You-Know-Who in your dreams? That would mean many people might know about this incredible thing, even You-Know-Who himself. How do you think he would react upon learning of this?"

    Harry didn''t really care how Voldemort would react - after all, Voldemort wouldn''t spare him even if this hadn''t happened. But Hermione was right, if his ability to dream about Voldemort became known throughout the wizarding world, Harry could imagine having to endure many strange looks and unwanted attention at Hogwarts once again.

    "I thought it was a really cool thing!" Ron blurted out, his voiceced with shock, having finally grasped the full implications of Hermione''s reasoning.

    "Hermione''s right, mate, I think you better keep this quiet. Oh, tomorrow I''m going to say hi to Fred and George, I''ll make sure they don''t tell Lee Jordan - you know, he''s their good friend and can share almost any secret, but he''s definitely not the one to help you keep one."

    Harry gratefully nodded at Ron, but then became pensive once more.

    During his second year at Hogwarts, on the night the Chamber of Secrets troubles were finally resolved, Dumbledore had mentioned that after Harry had thwarted Voldemort''s attempt to obtain the Philosopher''s Stone in his first year, the Dark Lord had been in hiding in the forests of Albania. But now, Voldemort had returned to Britain and recruited a witch nearly as powerful as Professor Watson as an aplice, and they were currently plotting to kill him.

    Although Professor Watson had made them retreat empty-handed tonight, Harry wasn''t na?ve enough to think Voldemort would glumly retreat back to the deep forests and note out again. He could imagine a whole new set of troubles finding him next school year!

    Seeing Harry fall silent, Hermione gave Ron a pointed look, and the redhead quickly understood her intention.

    "Oh, don''t be gloomy, Harry, no matter what, You-Know-Who and that Cliodna woman can''t just barge into Hogwarts to get you, they''ll only be walking into a trap!"

    Ron said excitedly, his eyes alight with a determined spark.

    "Think of something positive, Harry, we won a huge amount of money tonight, oh, it feels like a dream!"

    It took Harry a moment to realize what Ron was talking about. Indeed, the two of them had correctly predicted the oue of the Quidditch World Cup final at Ludo Bagman''s, winning a full one thousand Galleons!

    With the fairly substantial inheritance left to him by his parents, this sudden wealth was more than enough to sustain himfortably through his time at Hogwarts, so his personal attachment to galleons was far less intense than Ron''s. But still, five hundred Galleons was no small sum, and this was certainly an exhrating and unexpected event.

    "I''m going to buy myself a new broom!" Ron eximed joyfully as he reached into his pocket, feeling around for his hidden purse.

    "Of course, I definitely won''t get a Firebolt, but a Nimbus would be perfect. Oh, and I''m going to clear out the shelves at Honeydukes and Zonko''s, I''ve always dreamed of this daying. What are you waiting for, Harry, get your purse out, it''s time to divvy up the money!"

    Finally finding his purse, Ron grinned widely as he started to dig it out, his excitement palpable.

    "Coming right up!" Harry also immediately began searching himself, eager to im his share of the winnings.

    Watching the two boys suddenly be so ted and preupied with the prospect of their newfound wealth, Hermione rolled her eyes with an exasperated expression.

    "My purse can''t hold that much money, I borrowed it from Charlie!"

    Ron proudly disyed a purse embroidered with a moving dragon pattern, then reached his hand inside, preparing to scoop out the mesmerizing, gleaming Galleons. But...

    "Oh, are you trying to get me to leave, Weasley?"

    Seeing Ron''s expression crumble as he maintained his digging posture, Hermione rolled her eyes once more. The next moment, Ron suddenly jumped up from his seat, turning the purse upside down and shaking it frantically, his pale face flushed with eye redness.

    "What''s going on?" Hermione frowned as she realized something was clearly amiss.

    "It''s gone, the money is gone!" Ron wailed, his voiceced with despair. "The Galleons Bagman gave me, not a single one left!"

    On the other side, Harry also abruptly stood up, his expression one of bewilderment as he held his own purse.

    "What''s wrong, Harry?" Hermione quickly asked, her concern palpable. "Your money is gone too?"

    "It''s my wand!" Harry cried out in a panic. "My wand is missing!"

    "You lost your wand, Harry?" Hermione''s brow furrowed deeply, her amber eyes wide with concern. Her bushy brown hair seemed to bristle with worry as she leaned forward, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "What exactly happened? Where did you drop it, in the forest?"

    For a wizard, the importance of a wand was as self-evident. In the three years since entering the Wizarding world, Harry had never once let his wand leave his side. It had been his constantpanion, a bridge between his old life and his new identity as a wizard.

    Suddenly realizing he had lost it, a sickening feeling of weakness and helplessness welled up inside him, momentarily overwhelming his senses. He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he carefully scrutinized through the chaotic memories of their hasty escape from the Quidditch pitch, desperately trying to pinpoint the moment when his wand might have slipped from his grasp.

    "My Galleons!" Ron''s anguished cry cut through Harry''s concentration. Ron seemed to be on the verge of aplete breakdown, his freckled face contorting with a mix of panic and fury. He turned his purse ¨C a gift from his older brother Charlie ¨C inside out with trembling hands, but couldn''t find so much as a single bronze Knut. His face flushed a deep crimson as he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion.

    "Our galleons are gone too, Hermione! A whole thousand Galleons, the entire winnings from Ludo Bagman, vanished into thin air! Who in Merlin''s name could have stolen our money?"

    In all the time Harry and Hermione had known Ron they had never seen him this angry. Ron''s lips quivered uncontrobly as he waved the empty money bag around like a g of distress, his expression suggesting he was ready to devour the thief who had taken his galleons alive!

    Ron''s state of near-hysteria didn''t particrly surprise Harry and Hermione. Ron had always been very sensitive about his family''s tight financial situation. The thousand Galleons won from Ludo Bagman represented more than just money to Ron ¨C it was a life-changing opportunity, a chance to lift himself out of poverty and finally experience theforts he had always dreamed of. Now that someone had cruelly snatched away his newfound wealth, any level of anger from Ron wouldn''t have been unexpected.

    Hermione bit her lower lip lightly, looking worriedly at the frantic Ron. Even she didn''t know how to calm his fury.

    A portion of the missing money belonged to Harry as well. Under normal circumstances, he would have been furious too. However, the gnawing worry over his lost wand left him with no emotional energy to fret about anything else.

    Three years ago, on his eleventh birthday, Harry had bought this wand from Ollivander, the best wandmaker in Diagon Alley, under Hagrid''s guidance. The memory of that day was etched permanently in his mind. This wand was more than just a magical instrument; it was his proof of formally entering the mysterious and marvelous Wizarding world, a link to his parents and his heritage.

    For three years, his wand had been like a brother helping him through many difficult challenges ¨C from facing down a troll in the girls'' bathroom to conjuring his first Patronus to drive away the soul-sucking Dementors. Even though this wand had a somewhat unclear and troubling connection to Voldemort, as Mr. Ollivander had hinted, Harry was still deeply attached to it.

    Author''s Note: I just got back, updates will be regr from today and there is arge chapter in next few chapters.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0449 Outside

    0449 Outside

    In the garden outside the tent, on either side of the rough wooden dining table, Ron paced back and forth like a caged animal. His long legs carried him in rapid, restless strides as he gnashed his teeth and cursed the nameless, faceless thief who had taken his money in increasingly colorful terms that would have made even Fred and George blush.

    Harry stood frozen as if hit by a particrly powerful Petrification Charm, as he desperately scoured through his memories, trying to reconstruct the chaotic events of the evening and pinpoint where he might have dropped his precious wand. Hermione looked anxiously at both boys, unsure of whom tofort first.

    "I remember now!"

    Suddenly, Harry''s eyes lit up with a spark of hope. He twirled to face Hermione, his voice rising with excitement as he eximed,

    "I still had my wand in the Top Box. I used it to fight that wizard in the ck cloak, remember? But then... I got hit by that eerie whip!"

    Harry rolled up the sleeve of his jumper, revealing his right arm. The skin was now smooth and uninjured, thanks to Cliodna''s powerful healing magic, but Harry could still feel the pain of thesh.

    "That whip ¨C it hurt so much, like being branded with white-hot iron. I couldn''t hold onto my wand at all. It just flew out of my hand and then... then it fell into a pile of rubble!"

    "Didn''t you pick it up before we escaped, Harry?"

    Hermione stared at Harry, her expression a blend of disbelief and exasperation, clearly incredulous at his carelessness.

    "I meant to!" Harry''s frustration boiled over, and he pounded his fist on the table, making the dishes rattle. His voice rose to a shout, tinged with indignation and frustration,

    "But then that first dark witch nearly killed Sirius. And then that other witch, the one called Cliodna, appeared out of nowhere like some avenging angel. Before I knew it, Professor Watson was dueling her, spells flying everywhere, Finally, Sirius and Mr. Weasley were rushing us to escape from the box, pushing us ahead of them. Hermione, be honest ¨C you would have forgotten too! There was so much happening, so fast..."

    That was true enough, and Hermione''s expression softened as she considered Harry''s words. The events of tonight had been one shocking, terrifying incident after another, with rapid attacks and narrow escapes. Under those chaotic circumstances, Harry forgetting to pick up his wand wasn''t entirely iprehensible, even if it was still a serious oversight.

    "I need to go find my wand, or how am I supposed to attend sses next term!"

    After a few seconds of regret and self-pity, Harry suddenly straightened up, a look of determination settling over his features. He turned to Hermione; his voice filled with resolve.

    "Now?"

    Hermione''s brow furrowed once more, deep lines etching themselves across her forehead. Her tone was full of disapproval, tinged with fear for her friend''s safety. She didn''t bother to hide her thoughts, her words tumbling out in a rush of concern,

    "Running out there now isn''t a wise decision, Harry. You saw it yourself when we came back ¨C there were panicked wizards everywhere outside, running around like headless chickens. The Ministry is searching all over the ce; they think there might be injured culprits who couldn''t get away still hiding here, waiting for a chance to escape or cause more havoc. I bet if people hadn''t seen Professor Watson enter this tent, the Ministry would definitelye barging in to search. You understand what I mean, don''t you, Harry? It could be incredibly dangerous!"

    "We should go!"

    The frantic Ron, who had been pacing and muttering to himself, suddenly quieted down. He turned to face his friends, his eyes bloodshot and terrifying in their intensity. A vein pulsed visibly at his temple as he spoke, his voice low and determined,

    "I want to check the forest. That despicable thief must have taken advantage of us while we were distracted by Professor Watson''s duel! They''re probably still out there, counting our gold andughing at us!"

    Hermione pressed her lips together tightly, looking at Ron with disappointment shining in her amber eyes. She could see the recklessness born of desperation in both of her friends, and it worried her deeply.

    With both Harry and Ron insistent on going, Hermione knew she couldn''t stop the two boys. Their stubborn Gryffindor courage ¨C or foolhardiness, as she sometimes thought of it ¨C was in full force. Still, she grabbed onto Harry and Ron''s sleeves, her fingers clutching the fabric tightly as she made onest attempt at reason,

    "At least tell Sirius, Harry. If he finds we''re not in the tent, he''ll surely be worried sick. Or... notify your dad, Ron. The path to the Quidditch pitch is bound to be full of Ministry officials, we could get into serious trouble¡ª"

    "Sirius was injured tonight, Hermione. He needs rest now, I don''t want to disturb him¡ª"

    Harry considered Hermione''s suggestion for a second before rejecting it. Ron, however, was beyond listening to reason. He shook off Hermione''s hand impatiently and rushed towards the tent p, calling over his shoulder,

    "We have Harry''s invisibility cloak, don''t we? The Ministry won''t be able to find us! Come on, every second we waste is another second that thief gets further away!"

    Although she didn''t approve of Harry and Ron venturing out at a time like this ¨C her logical mind was screaming at her that this was a terrible idea ¨C but Hermione still followed them. She couldn''t let her best friends face potential danger alone, no matter how foolish she thought they were being.

    Over the summer holiday, all three had grown considerably taller. They had be slenderer and more mature, losing some of the roundness of childhood. The invisibility cloak that could easily cover all three of them in their first year, allowing them to roam the corridors of Hogwarts undetected, now barely managed to conceal them. Fortunately, Sirius''s tent was set up close enough to the edge of the forest; otherwise, traversing such arge wooded area while trying to remain hidden would have been quite an ordeal.

    And As expected, the world outside was still in utter chaos.

    Many of those who hade to watch the Quidditch World Cup match had already dispersed, fleeing into the night with their families. But quite a few, whether out of bravery, curiosity, or simply having nowhere else to go, had chosen to spend the night here. The campground was a patchwork of abandoned tents and huddled groups, interspersed by the harsh lights of magical res and the shouts of Ministry officials trying to maintain order.

    But, not all of those who chose to stay did so out of safety concerns; some foreign wizards with ill intentions had set their sights on the tents left behind by those who had fled in panic. These opportunistic looters sneaked from shadow to shadow, entering the abandoned dwellings without permission. They ransacked the valuables inside, stuffing their pockets with jewelry, and magical artifacts before sneaking away furtively into the night.

    "Oh, these things are all mine, I tell you! What do you think you''re doing, manhandling me like this?"

    Not far along the path, Harry and his friends encountered just such an incident. Several Ministry employees, their robes disheveled and faces grim, had cornered a sneaky-looking fellow. The wizard, his face flushed with either guilt or indignation, clutched a pile of exquisite ornaments to his chest. The Ministry workers demanded he provide proof that the valuable items truly belonged to him, as their wands were held at the ready. The two parties, unable to reach an agreement, quickly came to blows. Spells began to fly, multicolored jets of light illuminating the night as they fought noisily in front of a particrly luxurious tent.

    "Oh, daring to cause trouble for the Ministry at a time like this, just you wait and see. The Dementors of Azkaban will give you a warm wee!"

    Amos Diggory, Cedric Diggory''s father whom they had met this very morning at Stoatshead Hill, rushed past Harry with several other officials to join the fray. Before long, the foreign wizard trying to fish in troubled waters was struck by a well-aimed Stunning Spell. He crumpled to the ground, the stolen treasures spilling from his limp arms.

    As Mr. Diggory and another wizard passed by Harry again, levitating the unconscious thief between them, Mr. Diggory''s face was flushed with exertion and anger. He muttered furiously to hispanion,

    "This is the fifth one tonight! You''d think people would have more decency, especially after what happened at the match. But no, they see chaos and think only of lining their own pockets!"

    "Come on, let''s not waste time, Harry. Let''s go find your wand!"

    Hermione poked Harry sharply in the ribs, her whispered words urgent and impatient. The brief dy had clearly set her nerves on edge, making her even more anxious toplete their ''foolish'' mission and return to safety.

    Harry pressed his lips together tightly, not voicing the deep disappointment that welled up inside him after witnessing this scene. The wizarding world, was no fairy tale. It was not all wondrous spells and magical creatures; it had its share of greed, selfishness, and darkness. Harry had begun to understand this harsh truthst summer when Professor Watson had led him into that eerie, ghostly underground cave. Now, seeing wizards take advantage of a crisis to steal from their fellows, the lesson was driven home with painful rity.

    As they ventured deeper into the forest, the trio discovered that the security measures were even more intense than in the open campground. There was at least one grim-faced Ministry official patrolling every area about the size of two Hogwarts ssrooms. After the shocking events of tonight, these Hit Wizards didn''t dare to be the least bit careless. They scanned the dark forest with hawk-like sharp gazes, their wands held at the ready, prepared to strike at the slightest sign of threat.

    Ron, his mind still consumed by thoughts of his stolen Galleons, identally stepped on a twig. Though it was just a faint sound, barely audible above the distant shouts and spell-fire, the keen-eared Auror responsible for this area noticed the disturbance. He immediately rushed over, his wand tip glowing with a Lumos charm as he circled the area several times.

    The trio froze in ce, hardly daring to breathe as the Auror''s searching gaze passed over them again and again. Finding nothing out of the ordinary ¨C thanks to the invisibility cloak''s powerful magic ¨C he finally walked away slowly towards other areas, but not before casting several detection spells that made Harry''s skin tingle unpleasantly.

    <strong>Phew¡ª</strong>

    Even Ron, whose mind had been fully upied with thoughts of his lost galleons, was frightened enough by this close call to momentarily forget his anger. He unconsciously let out a long, shaky breath, only to have his ribs sharply jabbed by Hermione''s elbow.

    After this nerve-wracking incident, the three moved forward with even more caution than before. Their progress was painfully slow, each step carefully considered to avoid snapping twigs or rustling leaves. The invisibility cloak, while effective at concealing them from sight, did nothing to muffle sounds. They had to rely on their own stealth and the ambient noises of the forest to mask their movements.

    They had spent about twenty agonizing minutes creeping through the underbrush but had moved no more than two hundred feet when, on a small hill bathed in eerie moonlight filtering through the canopy, Harry saw several wizards wearing dark green robes. The cross of bone and wand embroidered on their backs gleamed silver in the dim light.

    These distinctively dressed wizards were gathered around a figure lying t on the mossy ground, barely clinging to life. Some were waving their wands in intricate patterns, showering the area with a soft, pulsating light. Others were carefully administering potions to the injured wizard, muttering incantations under their breath as they worked. All in all, three or four people were bustling about busily.

    "Those are¡ª" Harry began to ask in a whisper, his curiosity momentarily overriding his caution.

    "Healers from St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries," Ron''s voice was urgent, tinged with a mix of awe and uneasiness. Growing up in a wizarding family, he was all too familiar with the sight of these magical medical professionals.

    <strong>Ugh¡ª</strong>

    At that moment, the Healer with his back to them suddenly stood up, revealing the full extent of the injured person''s condition to the three hidden observers. After just one horrified nce, Harry felt his whole body break out in goosebumps.

    Beside him, Hermione was not so lucky in controlling her physical reaction. She crouched down, one hand pressed against her mouth in a futile attempt to hold back the tide of nausea. Unable to contain herself, she vomited on the spot.

    Harry and Ron also felt as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over their heads. They inhaled sharply, shuddering, and hurriedly averted their gaze. But the brief glimpse they had caught was now etched indelibly in their minds.

    <strong>******The following section contains graphic descriptions of violence and injury that some readers may find disturbing*******</strong>

    The wizard lying prone on the ground was a nightmarish sight. His body was charred to an unrecognizable ck, his skin cracked and peeling like the bark of a tree consumed by fire. Blood seeped from horrifying fissures that crisscrossed his body, creating a gruesomework of crimson rivers that stained the earth beneath him. The ground was now a canvas of death, painted in shades of red and ck.

    But the most terrifying aspect, the detail that made even the battle-hardened healers from St. Mungo''s flinch, was the wizard''s face. His nose had melted like a candle exposed to intense heat, leaving behind only a soft, fleshy mass that barely resembled a human face.

    <strong>***</strong>

    Despite the obvious futility of their efforts, the healers from St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries worked with frantic determination. Their wands moved in intricate patterns, casting spells of healing and restoration. Potions were poured down the wizard''s throat, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the ashen hue of his skin. But even Harry, with his limited medical knowledge, could see the grim truth etched in the lines of worry on the healers'' faces. Their efforts, valiant as they were, were destined to be in vain.

    As if to confirm Harry''s unspoken observation, after only two minutes of intense magical intervention, the healers surrounding the grievously injured wizard began to stand up one by one. Their shoulders sagged with the weight of their failure, deep sighs escaping their lips as they removed their lime-green healer''s hats. In a gesture of respect and mourning for the deceased, they bowed their heads, creating a somber circle around the lifeless body.

    "Poor fellow," sighed one of the healers who had previously had his back to the trio. His voice was heavy with regret and a tinge of professional frustration. "If his leg hadn''t been broken by the falling scaffolding, he might have had a fighting chance. But he was simply too close to Mr. Watson''s magic - his body was practically cooked from the inside out!"

    The healer''s clinical description sent a shiver down Harry''s spine. He had witnessed the awesome power of Professor Watson''s magic during the chaotic events at the Quidditch World Cup, but to see its devastating effects on a human body was something else entirely.

    "What will his family say?" another healer asked worriedly, "Strictly speaking, he died at Mr. Watson''s hands."

    "Let''s hope his family doesn''t do anything foolish," said the healer who had been administering potions to the deceased. His voice was calm, almost detached, as if he had seen too much death to be truly shaken by thistest tragedy. "If they want argepensation, the Ministry will certainly oblige. But if they try to cause trouble for Mr. Watson, well, the Ministry won''t stand for it. Without Mr. Watson''s intervention tonight, the death toll could have been hundreds, if not thousands of times higher. If they dare go to Hogwarts to confront Mr. Watson, I''ll personally kick their heads off with my boot!"

    The healer''s words, though harsh, carried a ring of truth that almost no one could deny. The night''s events had been catastrophic, and without Professor Watson''s powerful magic, the oue could have been far more devastating.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0450 Her Wit (Massive Chapter)

    0450 Her Wit (Massive Chapter)

    Hermione, mustering every ounce of her Gryffindor courage, took a deep breath and forced herself to stand. Her legs felt weak, but she steeled herself against the wave of nausea that tried to overwhelm her.

    With determination etched on her face, she turned her gaze back to the body, which was still faintly emitting wisps of white smoke, like a grotesque parody of a snuffed-out candle. Her pretty face was etched with sorrow that seemed to age her beyond her years.

    The ethical dilemma posed by the situation weighed heavily on Hermione''s mind. Professor Watson certainly hadn''t intended to kill this wizard - his actions had been in defense of countless innocent lives. Yet, the cold, hard fact remained that this unfortunate man had indeed died by Professor Watson''s hand, albeit indirectly. In thisplex situation, should Professor Watson bear responsibility for this unintended consequence of his heroic actions?

    Even Hermione, with her sharp intellect and encyclopedic knowledge of magicalw and ethics, couldn''t work out a clear answer. The situation was a moral maze with no easy exit. However, she knew with certainty that thest healer''s words, though crudely expressed, were correct.

    If the deceased''s family sought to hold Professor Watson ountable, they would find little support from the Ministry of Magic. Neither would they find sympathy among the residents of magical Britain or the visiting members of the international Wizardingmunity who hade to watch the Quidditch match.

    The weight of these somber thoughts hung heavily in the air as Hermione, Harry, and Ron silently agreed that they didn''t want to discuss the unfortunate wizard''s death any further. With heavy hearts and troubled minds, they walked on in silence, each lost in their own reflections.

    As they moved away from the tragic scene, the once-brilliant lights of the Quidditch pitch had dimmed considerably, as if in mourning for the night''s events.

    Above them, the starry sky stretched out in a breathtaking disy, a dreamlike canopy of twinkling lights that seemed mockingly beautiful in contrast to the horrors they had witnessed on the ground. However, even this celestial spectacle wasn''t enough to fully illuminate the dense forest that surrounded them.

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione wandered for what felt like hours, though it was likely only minutes. The forest seemed to have transformed into abyrinth, its trees looming ominously in the semi-darkness, their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers.

    Finally, after aimless wandering, they spotted a familiarndmark - the small hill where they had stopped to watch the unfolding chaos after fleeing the Quidditch stadium. In the aftermath of the night''s events, this spot had be the busiest location in the entire forest.

    As they approached, they could see several distinct groups gathered on the hilltop. The majority were easily identifiable as wizards from the British Ministry of Magic. Among them, Harry recognized a few faces from his previous encounters at the Ministry, though he couldn''t put names to most of them.

    The rest of the crowd was an extensive mix. Staff members from both the Bulgarian and Irish Quidditch teams were huddled in small groups, their national colors still visible despite the dim light. But what truly caught the eye were the "mascots" the two teams had brought for the night''s match.

    "What''s going on?" Harry frowned as he listened to the leprechauns and the ve (now in their true forms) arguing heatedly in English with vastly different ents. After a moment, he realized they were still disputing the less-than-sporting tactics employed by the Bulgarian team in thetter half of the match. "Are they still arguing about the match results?"

    "What an absolute waste of time!" Ron eximed through gritted teeth, his face flushed with frustration. His eyes darted around the hilltop, desperately searching for any sign of his missing money. He was all too aware that with the crowd of people trampling all over the area, any clues the thief might have left behind would have long since been obliterated, if there had been any evidence to begin with.

    Ron''s gaze swept angrily over the arguing crowd on the hillside, his disappointment palpable. Suddenly, his eyes widened, a spark of hope igniting within them. He turned to Hermione, his words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. "Hold on a minute, Hermione! Do you remember? Besides us, there was someone else on this slope earlier. Let me think... Krum was here, of course, but he wouldn''t have any reason to steal my money. But there was also an older fellow. Do you remember his name?"

    Hermione''s lips pressed into a thin line as she reluctantly supplied the answer, carefully avoiding Ron''s hopeful gaze. "Elphias Doge," she said, her tone t. "But you need to give it up, Ron. He didn''t take your galleons."

    "Why not?" Ron protested, his voice rising with indignation. "It could have been anyone! We don''t know these people!"

    Hermione''s patience, already stretched thin by the night''s events, finally snapped. She fixed Ron with a sarcastic re and her voice was sharp as she retorted, "Didn''t you listen at all when Sirius introduced that wizard to us? Elphias Doge is a good friend of Professor Dumbledore. Do you honestly think someone like Dumbledore would be friends with amon thief?"

    Ron opened his mouth to argue further, but found himself at a loss for words. Hermione''s logic, as usual, was impable, leaving him with no room for rebuttal.

    Sensing the rising tension between his friends, Harry intervened quietly. "Come on," he said, his voiceden with worry. "Let''s go check by the stadium. My wand was left in the box, and after seeing what happened to that poor wizard... well, I''m worried it might have met the same fate."

    The reminder of the tragedy they had witnessed earlier casted a shadow of gloom over the group. They began to move towards the boxes, Ron trailing behind with a dejected slump to his shoulders.

    "Wait¡ª" Hermione''s sudden exmation brought them to an abrupt halt. Ron, lost in his gloomy thoughts, failed to stop in time and bumped his nose into the back of Hermione''s head.

    "What now?" Ron snapped, his temper frayed by the loss of such a substantial sum of money. He rubbed his stinging nose, his tone harsher than he intended.

    But Hermione, focused intently on something in the distance, didn''t seem to register Ron''s irritation. Her eyes were fixed on the group of ve and leprechauns, still surrounded by the various wizards attempting to mediate their dispute.

    "The money pouch Charlie gave you," she began slowly, her mind clearly racing with possibilities, "it didn''t have any holes in it, right?"

    Ron''s patience, already worn thin to the limit, finally snapped. "Do you really think a thousand gold galleons could have fallen out of the pouch onto the ground without any of us noticing? Come on, Hermione, that''s not up to your usual standard!"

    "It''s not possible," Hermione said slowly, her eyes shing with the intensity of her thoughts. "The pouch Charlie lent you isn''t an ordinary one, Ron. Its interior has been magically expanded, simr to what Professor Watson did to the ssroom where we practice dodging spells. This kind of pouch typically has anti-theft charms woven into its fabric. Apart from its rightful owner, even if someone found it, they wouldn''t be able to open it. But the pouch you showed us was intact, while the thousand gold galleons inside had vanished without a trace."

    "Have you gone utterly mad, Hermione?" Ron exploded, his face flushing red with anger and frustration. "Are you suggesting that I didn''t want to share the money with Harry, so I secretly hid the thousand Galleons myself? Is that what you think of me?"

    "For heaven''s sake, Weasley, can you use your brain for just one moment?" Hermione''s face turned blue with suppressed anger, her voice trembled with the effort of maintaining herposure. Pointing at the Irish leprechauns still embroiled in their heated argument, she said through gritted teeth, "What I''m trying to say is, the pouch shows no signs of damage, yet the gold inside is gone. It''s possible ¨C just possible ¨C that the gold galleons Ludo Bagman gave you was conjured by the Irish leprechauns!"

    "Galleons conjured by the Irish leprechauns?" Ron and Harry''s gazes followed the line of Hermione''s outstretched finger, focusing on the shouting leprechauns in the distance. A few seconds of confused silence passed before their eyes returned to Hermione, filled with bewilderment. Ron furrowed his brow, his mind struggling to make the connection. "So what?" he asked, still not grasping the implications. "Does the gold galleons scattered by the Irish leprechauns disappear or something?"

    "Oh, thank goodness, your brain is finally working, Weasley!" Hermione eximed, rolling her eyes dramatically as she ced her hands on her hips. Despite her exasperation, there was a hint of relief in her voice as she continued, "You''ve actually guessed correctly. The gold conjured by the Irish leprechauns is just an illusion, Ron. It does indeed disappear!"

    Ron stood motionless; his freckled face frozen in an expression of utter disbelief for a full thirty seconds beforeing to his senses. He stared at Hermione, who was standing close by, and whispered in a voice barely audible,

    "The gold... the gold conjured by those Irish leprechauns disappears? But weren''t those leprechauns the mascots brought by the Irish team for the match? I thought... Blimey, Harry, quick as you can, check how many Galleons you''ve got left in that money pouch of yours!"

    "What?" Harry''s voice wasced with confusion, his emerald green eyes blinking rapidly behind his round spectacles as he tried to process Ron''s sudden outburst. Despite his bewilderment, he instinctively followed his best friend''s urgent advice.

    Harry hadn''t yet made his usual trip to Gringotts Wizarding Bank to withdraw his living expenses for the uing term at Hogwarts. Moreover, he had spent a considerable amount of gold on various magical trinkets and souvenirs from small vendors in the campsite before the match. As a result, when he carefully opened the drawstring of his pouch, he found it contained mostly bronze Knuts¡ªwith only a sparse scattering of gold Galleons glinting among them.

    Harry''s fingers fumbled through the coins, eventually picking out the few Galleons he could find and held them out towards Ron in confusion.

    "This is all I''ve got left, Ron. What''s the matter? Is something wrong?"

    The color drained from Ron''s face so rapidly it was as if someone had cast a Disillusionment Charm on him. Still refusing to believe what his eyes were telling him; Ron snatched the pouch from Harry''s outstretched hand and searched frantically for any stray Galleons that Harry might have overlooked. After a moment, he finally confirmed that Harry hadn''t miscounted.

    "They''re gone, Harry." Ron said, crestfallen. "Don''t you remember? Before the match kicked off, I handed you a fistful of gold Galleons¡ªthe ones that Irish leprechauns had showered down on us all. I recall watching you stuff all that glittering gold into your pouch. And now... now it''s all gone, like it never existed in the first ce!"

    Harry furrowed his brow and thought for a moment before vaguely recalling something of the sort. Ron had indeed given him that gold to repay him for the Omniocrs.

    "Your memory has suddenly be frighteningly sharp, Ronald!" Hermione''s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Her lips were pursed tightly, a clear sign of her disapproval of the entire situation.

    The wrinkles on Harry''s forehead hadn''t smoothed out. He hesitantly said,

    "So, what you''re saying is... Ludo Bagman paid us¡ªand Fred and George too¡ªwith fake gold? Gold that was conjured by those leprechauns and would disappear?" Harry paused, struggling to wrap his mind around the concept. "But... but surely it must have been a mistake? I mean, Bagman is the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, surely he wouldn''t... it couldn''t possibly have been intentional, could it?"

    Hermione bit her lip but didn''t say anything.

    "I''ve got to go back and check!" Ron''s words came out in a rush, his breathing heavy and slightly panicked. "I need to find out if Fred and George''s gold is still there, or if it''s vanished too!"

    "Ron, we didn''te all the way out here just to chase after some leprechaun gold," Hermione''s voice was stern, tinged with irritation. Her brown eyes shed dangerously as she red at Ron. "We''re supposed to be helping Harry find his wand! Have you forgotten that already?"

    "Wand?" Ron repeated the word as if it were in a foreignnguage, his face a picture of utter befuddlement. For a moment, it seemed as though he hadpletely forgotten about the original purpose of their risky excursion. Then, like a bolt of lightning, realization struck him. "Oh, right! Harry''s wand! He left it in the box during all that chaos. Blimey, how could I forget? Right then, let''s get a move on!"

    With a renewed sense of purpose, Ron took the lead, setting off towards the Quidditch pitch with long, determined strides. Harry followed close behind, his own worry about his missing wand nowpeting with concern over the potentially fraudulent gold.

    Hermione followed up atst, her eyes fixed on the back of Ron''s head with aplex look before she let out an inward sigh and quickened her pace to keep up with the boys.

    The trek to the Quidditch pitch was a tense affair. Harry''s mind was consumed with worry about his wand. Ron, on the other hand, wasser-focused on finding Fred and George, desperate to confirm whether their gold had also mysteriously disappeared. This shared sense of urgency meant that the three of them paid little attention to their surroundings, instead choosing to move as stealthily and quickly as possible towards their destination.

    Twenty minutester, they were once again standing outside the entrance to the stadium. The contrast between what they saw now and what they had witnessed earlier this evening was shocking, to say the least.

    Few hours ago, the Quidditch World Cup Final stadium had been, without a doubt, thergest and most impressive structure Harry had everid eyes on in the wizarding world. Mr. Weasley had emphasized repeatedly that the construction of a sports arena capable offortably seating one hundred thousand spectators was no small feat. The British Ministry of Magic had deployed hundreds of witches and wizards who had been working on this project since the beginning of the year, finallypleting this magnificent structure just a couple of weeks before the match began.

    But now, in the span of half a day, this marvel of magical architecture had been reduced to little more than a pile of ruins.

    Perhaps fearing that the remaining structure might copse again, the Ministry of Magic had thoroughly evacuated the area after removing the injured and the dead. However, this also conveniently facilitated the movement of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

    They nervously traversed the now unrecognizable passageway, trying their best to avoid touching anything. They weren''t sure if knocking something over might trigger a chain reaction, causing the fragmented passage topletely copse.

    Upon entering the Quidditch pitch and confirming that there wasn''t a sound in any direction, Harry lifted the Invisibility Cloak in a patch of shadow.

    When they had fled the stadium earlier, it was just before Professor Watson and the witch named Cliodna had begun their duel. At the time, they had been blissfully unaware of the destruction their battle would wreak upon the stadium. Now, finally able to survey the aftermath, they were struck speechless by the sheer scale of devastation caused by the sh between two of the most powerful magic users in the Wizarding world.

    The once lush, meticulously manicured grassy field that had filled the stadium had vanishedpletely, as if it had never existed. In its ce was an enormous crater.

    As moonlight spilled over the scene, the trio noticed something peculiar¡ªthe edges and interior of the pit seemed to glitter with an odd, bright luster. His curiosity piqued; Ron cautiously approached the edge of the crater. With a quick nce back at his friends, he reached down and broke off a small piece of the reflective material from the crater''s lip. Bringing it close to his face, he examined it carefully in his palm, turning it this way and that to catch the moonlight.

    "Blimey, is this some sort of gemstone?" After a few seconds of intense scrutiny, Ron turned around, looking at Hermione with a slightly bewildered expression.

    Hermione stepped closer; her own curiosity evident in her furrowed brow. She leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she carefully examined the shard in Ron''s palm. After a moment, she straightened up.

    "No, it''s not a gemstone, Ron. It''s ss," Hermione stated with her usual air of confidence. Her tone took on a slightly lecturing tone as she continued, "It''s a result of Professor Watson''s magic. The intense heat generated by that massive fireball he conjured must have been hot enough to melt the sand in the soil. When it cooled rapidly, it formed this ss."

    Ron''s face scrunched up in confusion as he looked from Hermione to Harry, clearly lost. "What kind of exnation is that? Since when does fire turn dirt into ss?"

    Harry, caught between his two friends, could only offer a helpless shrug. "It''s probably some kind of Muggle science thing," he suggested, not entirely sure himself but trusting in Hermione''s knowledge.

    Disappointment clear on his face now that he knew the shard wasn''t some valuable gemstone, Ron tossed the piece of ss aside carelessly. His attention quickly shifted back to the ruined pitch stretching out before them.

    From their vantage point, the once oval-shaped Quidditch pitch was nowpletely unrecognizable. Nearly a third of the entire structure had crumbled into nothing more than a chaotic heap of rubble and twisted metal. The remaining spectator stands were inplete disarray,rge sections torn asunder and others barely clinging to what remained of the main structure. Enormous, gnarled vines snaked through the wreckage, wrapped tightly around beams and through gaps in the rubble as if trying to drag the entire stadium back to the earth.

    The fact that the entire magnificent Quidditch stadium hadn''t been reduced to a pile of rubble was partly due to the Ministry of Magic''s thorough and meticulous efforts in its construction. However, it was also due to an unexpected side effect of the battle¡ªthe steel beam connections in the main structure had beenpletely welded together by the intense heat of the Fiendfyre conjured by Bryan during the duel.

    As the three young wizards stood there, taking in the full extent of the destruction, an indescribable pressure seemed to settle on their hearts. They dared not imagine what might have be of them if Professor Watson hadn''t had the foresight to give them time to escape before engaging in battle with Cliodna. Their fate, they realized with a collective shudder, would likely have been no better¡ªand possibly far worse¡ªthan that of the unfortunate wizard who had just perished outside the stadium.

    The weight of this realization hung heavy in the air between them for several long moments before Hermione finally broke the silence.

    "Come on, Harry," she said, gently pushing at his shoulder to spur him into action. "We need to find your wand quickly¡ª" Her eyes darted nervously around the ruined stadium as she continued in a suppressed voice, "Someone from the Ministry could show up at any moment to inspect the damage. We can''t afford to linger here for too long."

    Harry let out a long, weary sigh. "To be honest, I''ve already started to prepare myself mentally for the possibility of having to buy a new wand from Ollivander''s¡ª"

    Indeed, as Harry surveyed the sorry state of the once-magnificent Quidditch pitch, he couldn''t help but feel that the chances of his wand remaining intact amidst such devastation were minuscule at best.

    Despite his pessimistic attitude, Harry knew they couldn''t simply turn back now. They had taken an enormous risk ining here, so they couldn''t just look around and leave.

    With renewed determination, the three friends began to look around trying to identify their seat location within the ruined stadium. The once-familiaryout had been so thoroughly destroyed that it took them several long, frustrating minutes of debate and careful observation before they could finally determine the approximate location of their box from the evening''s match.

    Their efforts were rewarded with a mixture of good and bad news. On the positive side, they discovered that the section of the stadium containing the top-level box where they had watched the Quidditch final hadn''t beenpletely reduced to rubble. Its main structure, while damaged, was stillrgely intact¡ªa small miracle given the destruction surrounding it.

    However, the bad news was that the stairway leading up to the top-level box had be extremely unstable. Chunks of masonry and twisted metal were scattered haphazardly across the steps, creating a treacherous obstacle course.

    The entire staircase seemed to be hanging in a precarious bnce, as if the slightest additional weight might cause it to give way entirely.

    Harry stood at the foot of this broken staircase, his green eyes roaming up its length as he assessed the danger. After a moment of tense silence, Harry walked to the lowest point of the staircase, hesitated for a moment, then turned to Ron and asked.

    "Ron, could I borrow your wand for a moment?"

    Ron frowned, "Hold on, you''re not nning to go up there alone, are you?"

    Harry nodded solemnly. "This staircase might barely support the weight of one person, but it would be far too dangerous for all three of us to attempt the climb. There''s no need for you both to risk your lives alongside me."

    "I don''t like the sound of that one bit, mate," Ron clicked his tongue and said shaking his head. "Should I start counting how many times we''ve risked our lives together over the past few years, Harry? Because I reckon we''d be here until sunrise if I did."

    However, Harry''s concern wasn''t without reason. The structure before them was indeed in a precarious state, and it would be foolish for all three of them to recklessly attempt to climb it.

    Hermione had been quiet during this exchange, her mind clearly working overtime to find a solution. Her eyes were fixed on the box high above them, a frustrated frown creasing her forehead. Finally, she spoke, her voice tinged with a mix of annoyance and disappointment:

    "If only we could fly up there," she said, her gaze still locked on the distant box. "But flying isn''t simple magic. It''s far too advanced for us."

    Ron''s eyes lit up at the mention of flying, his expertise in all things rted to Quidditching to the front. "Actually, flying itself isn''t that hard," he said, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice. "If we had a broomstick, even an old Shooting Star would do the trick."

    As Ron spoke, his eyes began to scan the area, searching for any safer alternative route to approach the box. Meanwhile, Harry, like Hermione, continued to gaze up at their destination and sighed.

    The trio stood in contemtive silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts as they tried to devise a n.

    Then, without any warning, the silence was shattered.

    A voice, harsh and grating, suddenly cut through the still night air. This off-key voice was filled with a painful hoarseness, as if its owner had been screaming for hours. But what it uttered wasn''t a cry for help or a shout of surprise at finding intruders in the ruins.

    No, what they heard was unmistakably an incantation - a spell.

    <strong>"Morsmordre!"</strong>

    The next second, something enormous and blindingly glittering green appeared in the top-level box and swiftly soared into the sky!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0451 Explanation

    0451 Exnation

    The previously tranquil Quidditch stadium, nestled under a starry night sky, suddenly erupted with a blood-curdling scream that shattered the eerie silence.

    In an instant, a brilliantly glowing green symbol materialized out of thin air, hovering ominously above the Top box seats. In the dim, ghostly illumination, Harry vaguely saw a blurry hazy shadow that seemed to crumple and copse inside the box.

    This unexpected and terrifying turn of events left Harry, Ron and Hermione, utterly stunned. Their bodies tensed, frozen in ce as if petrified by some unseen force rendering them momentarily unable to react.

    After only about ten seconds, Ron''s voice finally broke through the oppressive silence. His words came out in a high-pitched squeak, so unlike his usual tone that it was barely recognizable. "W-what''s going on?" he stammered, his face bleached with fear, his wide eyes were fixed on the sinister symbol floating above them. "What the bloody hell is that thing?"

    Harry''s mind raced, desperately trying to make sense of the surreal scene unfolding before them. For a fleeting moment, he had the notion that the mysterious symbol might be another creation of the leprechauns they had seen earlier in the evening. However, thatforting thought was quickly dispelled as he recalled that those leprechauns were currently in a heated dispute with the Bulgarian Ve in the nearby woods. Besides, Harry realized with a sinking feeling, even the rowdiest leprechauns would never conjure such a horrifying and malevolent image.

    Squinting against the darkness, Harry focused his attention on the floating phantom. As the details came into sharper focus, he felt his breath catch in his throat. The symbol was a grotesque skull, etched in what appeared to be a constetion of glittering emerald stars.

    More disturbing still was the serpent that protruded from the skull''s gaping jaws, writhing and undting like a grotesque parody of a tongue. As the trio watched, rooted to the spot in horror, the nightmarish image began to ascend higher into the inky ck sky. It left a trail of sickly greenish smoke in its wake, embedding itself against the backdrop of twinkling stars like some twisted new constetion born of pure malevolence.

    "What... what is that thing?" Harry echoed Ron''s earlier question, his voice barely above a whisper as the fog of shock began to lift from his mind. Themotion around them grew steadily, with distant shouts and the sound of running feet adding to the cacophony of fear and confusion.

    Instinctively, Harry turned to Hermione, the one most likely to have an answer to this terrifying mystery. To his surprise and rising dread, he saw her usuallyposed face drained of all color, her eyes were wide with a terror he had never seen before in her face.

    "Hermione?" Harry asked, his voiceced with concern as he reached out to grip her arm, partly to offerfort and partly to steady himself. "What''s wrong? Do you know what that... that thing is?"

    Hermione''s voice came out as a strangled groan, "It''s... it''s the Dark Mark, Harry!" she managed to choke out, her words sending a fresh wave of ice through Harry''s veins. "It''s the sign of You-Know-Who''s followers ¨C the Death Eaters! They must be the ones who attacked the campsite tonight!" Her voice rose in pitch as panic took hold. "We need to get out of here, Harry! Now!"

    It wasn''t Hermione''s panicked cry that finally spurred Harry into action, but rather his body''s deeply ingrained instinct for self-protection. In that crucial moment, Harry and Hermione moved with an almost supernatural synchronicity, both lunging towards Ron, who remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by shock and fear. The trio had barely hit the ground when the air around them was suddenly filled with a series of sharp, crackling sounds ¨C the unmistakable noise of wizards Apparating.

    "Stupefy!" The night air was filled by the unified cry of approximately twenty wizards as they materialized around the prone figures of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Jets of red light erupted from their wands, hurtling towards them.

    A barrage of magical energy illuminated the Quidditch pitch in a dazzling, terrifying light show. The ground beneath them exploded as spells struck the earth, pelting Harry''s face with chunks of dirt and grass. He felt the searing heat of a red beam of light as it grazed the top of his head, the sheer magical force of it caused him to squint against the sudden gust of wind it generated.

    "Stop!" A familiar voice cut through the chaos, that all three of them recognized. "STOP! That''s my son, and Harry Potter!"

    As suddenly as it had begun, the onught of spells ceased. The imminent sense of danger that had enveloped them began to dissipate, reced by a tense silence. Harry cautiously loosened his protective grip on Hermione and Ron, daring to raise his head and survey their surroundings. His eyes fell upon the nearest wizard, who was now lowering his wand, peering intently at Harry''s face with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. From behind the semicircle of Ministry wizards, Harry could make out the figure of Mr. Weasley striding towards them, his face was a mixture of terror and concern.

    "Ron¡ªHarry¡ª" Mr. Weasley''s voice trembled with barely contained emotion as he approached. "Hermione¡ªare you all alright? Are any of you hurt?"

    Before any of them could respond, a cold, curt voice cut through the air like a knife. "Out of the way, Arthur."

    Harry''s eyes darted to the source of the voice, immediately recognizing the speaker by the familiar face of the person trailing behind him ¨C it was Percy, following in the steps of his boss like an eager shadow. Percy''s eyes widened as they fell upon Harry and his younger brother Ron, still sprawled on the ground. His expression was one of utter disbelief, tinged with something that looked unsettlingly like suspicion.

    "What in Merlin''s name are you doing here?!" Percy eximed, his eyes shing with anger rather than the concern so evident in his father''s face.

    "Silence!" Barty Crouch snapped, his voice carrying the same icy authority that had dismissed Mr. Weasley moments before. The tension in the air rose up by another notch as Crouch focused his prating gaze on Harry.

    "Who did this?" Crouch demanded, his sharp gaze darting between the three young wizards. His next words came out as a growl,den with usation. "Which one of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

    Harry felt a surge of indignation rise within him, momentarily overriding his fear. "We didn''t do it!" he protested vehemently, gesturing towards the skull that still hovered menacingly above them. "We didn''t do anything!!"

    "Yeah, we didn''t do anything!" Ron chimed in, his voice thick with a mixture of fear and resentment. He rubbed his elbow, wincing at the pain from their sudden dive to the ground, and shot a hurt re at his father. "Why did you attack us? We''re supposed to be on the same side!"

    Crouch''s eyes bulged slightly, giving him a somewhat manic appearance that sent a shiver down Harry''s spine. "Do not lie, gentlemen!" he snarled, his wand now pointed directly at Ron''s chest. "You were discovered at the scene of the crime! The evidence speaks for itself!"

    Mr. Weasley stepped forward, cing himself between Crouch''s wand and the trio. "They''re just children, Barty, I brought them here myself to watch the match. They couldn''t possibly be connected to the Death Eaters who attacked tonight. It''s absurd to even consider such a thing!"

    Harry felt annoyed to see that Percy was eyeing them suspiciously, as if actually considering the possibility that they might have conjured the Dark Mark.

    "Barty," a witch dressed in a long woolen dressing gown interjected quietly, "I don''t think it could have been them. Surely you can see¡ª"

    Her words trailed off as many of the Ministry officials surrounding them began to mutter amongst themselves. It was clear that they had recognized the green-eyed boy as Harry Potter ¨C a fact that spoke volumes in itself. If the Dark Mark had appeared while Harry Potter was present, there was only one logical conclusion to be drawn: whoever had conjured the mark was calling for reinforcements, to finish off the Boy Who Lived.

    Despite the growing murmurs of doubt, Barty Crouch remained unmoved. Mr. Weasley, visibly wilting under Crouch''s intense scrutiny, turned anxiously to the trio, his eyes pleading for information that might defuse the situation.

    "You three," he began, his voice strained with worry, "where exactly did this marke from? What did you see? Please, tell us everything."

    Hermione, her voice still shaky, raised a trembling hand to point towards the top of the stadium. "Over there," she managed to say, her words barely above a whisper. "The top box. We... we saw the mark fly up from inside the box."

    Crouch''s head snapped around at Hermione''s words, his prating gaze now focused solely on her. "Oh? From the box, you say?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism as he lowered his head, maintaining his intimidating stare. "And you just happened to see it? Mere coincidence, I suppose?"

    "Barty!" Mr. Weasley''s protest was tinged with exasperation at Crouch''s leading questions. He met Barty Crouch''s re with one of his own, speaking rapidly in an attempt to inject some reason into the proceedings. "Surely you''ve realized by now that one of these three is Harry Potter? Do you honestly think Harry Potter, of all people, would conjure the Dark Mark? They''re Hogwarts students, for Merlin''s sake! I''m absolutely certain that neither Albus Dumbledore nor Bryan Watson has taught them anything about the Dark Mark or its creation!"

    Mr. Weasley''s mention of Dumbledore and Watson seemed to strike a chord. Even Crouch''s cheek twitched at the mention of these two names.

    Percy, however, seemed unmoved by his father''s emotional defense. His brow furrowed as he turned his attention to Ron, his voiceced with disapproval. "Why are you even here? Dad said you went back to the tent with Sirius and Professor Watson. What possible reason could you have for sneaking out?"

    Ron''s face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment as he red at his older brother. "What do you mean, <em>''why are we here''</em>?" he shot back indignantly. "I''ve already said, we have nothing to do with that mark. We just happened to see it before you lot did! Why is that so hard to believe?"

    "Answer the question, sir!" Crouch''s voice cut through the brotherly squabble, his gaze boring into Ron over Mr. Weasley''s protective shoulder. "Surely you''re not here to relive the match! What could possibly havepelled you to return to this ce at such an hour?"

    Ron opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He noticed his father was also looking at him expectantly, waiting for an exnation. The truth ¨C that they had riskeding here to search for the gold galleons he had won from Ludo Bagman, which had mysteriously vanished ¨C suddenly seemed painfully foolish. If he admitted to that, Ron knew his father would likely skin him alive before his mother even got the chance.

    Sensing Ron''s hesitation, Harry decided to step in, drawing Crouch''s attention to himself. "We came to find my wand," he said, the half-truthing easier than he expected. "We did go back to the tent with Sirius and Professor Watson, but before going to sleep, I realized my wand was missing. Then I remembered I''d left it in the box."

    Harry paused, ncing at his friends before continuing. "Ron and Hermione came with me because they were worried about me encountering danger on the way. We didn''t actually go up to the box because the staircase looked like it was about to copse. We were trying to figure out what to do when... when all this happened."

    <em>''Coming to find a lost wand?''</em>

    This exnation indeed caught the Ministry group by surprise. However, hearing Harry''s exnation, Mr. Weasley''s face tightened. "You didn''t ask Sirius toe with you?"

    Harry hesitated for a moment, weighing his options, but ultimately decided that honesty was the best policy in this situation. He shook his head slowly, watching as Mr. Weasley''s expression darkened further. It was clear that if the circumstances weren''t so dire, they would certainly have been on the receiving end of a stern lecture.

    Mr. Diggory, who had earlier been tasked with escorting the thieving foreign wizard, seemed particrly disturbed by Harry''s exnation. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, his voice thick with incredulity as he asked, "How on earth did you manage to get here undetected? The woods are crawling with our people, but not a single rm was raised. Surely you didn''t just stroll over here in in sight?"

    Put on the spot by this direct questioning, Harry realized he had no choice but to reveal more truth. With a resigned sigh, he carefully unfolded the Invisibility Cloak he had been clutching tightly throughout the exchange.

    "Oh, an Invisibility Cloak?" Mr. Diggory eximed, his eyebrows rising in slight surprise as he examined the shimmering fabric. "Those aren''t exactlymon items ¨C certainly not cheap, either. But I suppose that exins how you managed to slip past our defenses."

    Amos Diggory turned to look at Mr. Crouch, who was now squinting intently at the cloak in Harry''s hands.

    "Well then," Mr. Diggory said, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over the group. "Shall we go up and have a look at this box? Perhaps we''ll find some answers there."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0452 End of This Night

    0452 End of This Night

    Amos Diggory, Cedric Diggory''s father, suggested going up to the box to take a look. Strangely, Mr. Crouch, who had been practically vibrating with fierce indignation moments earlier, now seemed oddly disinterested in Amos''s proposal.

    The witch in the dressing gown shook her head, her graying hair catching the eerie green light cast by the Dark Mark overhead. Her words seemed to solve the puzzle of Harry''s confusion, at least momentarily.

    "Don''t bother, Amos, whoever conjured that... that thing," she gestured towards the sky with a slight shudder, "has surely Disapparated by now. We''re chasing shadows."

    Amos Diggory, however, was not so easily dissuaded. His eyes, glinting with determination, remained focused on the box high above them.

    "I don''t think so," he countered firmly. "If they wanted to leave, the prankster - if that''s what we''re dealing with - would have gone already." He paused, his brow furrowing in thought. "I suspect they''re either severely injured and unable to move, or they''ve just regained consciousness. Either way, we can''t leave any stone unturned."

    Mr. Diggory flexed his wrist, his wand at the ready. It was clear from his stance that he had made his decision. Seemingly believing the twisted and precarious stairway to the box unsafe, he Disapparated directly up there. Harry squinted, noticing Mr. Diggory appear on the outer side of the box. Amos gripped the twisted, deformed railing with one hand, and with his other hand, he pointed his illuminated wand into the pitch-ck interior of the box.

    The assembled group below held their collective breath, waiting for any sign of danger or discovery. Seconds ticked by, feeling like hours in the tense silence. No spells were fired at Mr. Diggory from inside the box, which could either be a good sign or a trap waiting to be sprung.

    After a brief but thorough observation, Amos seemed satisfied that no immediate threat lurked inside. He put his wand between his teeth, freeing both hands to carefully move over the railing. The metal groaned ominously under his weight, a stark reminder of how precarious the situation truly was.

    Suddenly, the eerie quiet was shattered by a startled cry from Mr. Diggory. <strong>"Ouch!"</strong> His voice echoed through the quiet Quidditch pitch, causing everyone below to tense up immediately.

    The Ministry officials, their nerves already frayed by the night''s events, all snapped to attention, pointing their wands upwards at the box in a synchronized motion.

    Mr. Weasley, his balding head shining slightly in the ghostly green light of the Dark Mark, called out loudly, "What''s happening, Amos? Do you need backup?" His hand tightened on his wand, ready to Apparate to Amos''s aid at a moment''s notice.

    "It''s nothing, it''s nothing," Mr. Diggory''s voice floated down from inside the box, sounding slightly flustered and out of breath. "I stepped into a hole and almost fell to the next level - nasty surprise, that." There was a pause, filled only by the sound of shifting debris. "Don''te up, Arthur. This structure can''t handle any more weight! It''s like a game of Exploding Snap up here - one wrong move and the whole thing mighte down!"

    As Mr. Diggory continued his search, the box emitted a continuous symphony of creaks and groans, each sound making those below wince in anticipation of a catastrophic copse. The Ministry officials rxed their stances slightly but remained highly alert, their eyes never leaving the box above.

    Harry, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation, wanted to call out to Mr. Diggory, to ask him to keep an eye out for his wand. But given the gravity of the current situation, he bit his tongue, knowing that his lost wand was the least of their worries right now.

    Suddenly, Amos''s voice rang out again, this time with a note of discovery. "Ah, got something here. There''s a... oh, unconscious. Ouch... my goodness!"

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged quick, worried nces, their young faces pale in the eerie light. Mr. Crouch, who had been unnaturally still and quiet, suddenly called out in a tone of utter disbelief, his usualposure cracking,

    "You''ve caught someone? Who is it, Amos? Who''s up there?"

    Before Mr. Crouch''s shout had even finished echoing around the decimated Quidditch pitch, the air in front of them exploded unexpectedly with a resounding <strong>BANG!</strong> Mr. Diggory materialized amidst an expanding cloud of dust and debris, holding a small, limp body in his arms.

    As the dust began to settle, Harry''s eyes widened in shock as he immediately recognized the figure by its distinctive bat-like ears. His breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears. Beside him, Hermione let out a small gasp, covering her mouth with her hand and taking an involuntary step backward.

    Barty Crouch stood rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed unblinkingly on the house-elf as Amos gently ced it at his feet. For several long, agonizing seconds, Crouch remained motionless, as if he had been hit with a Petrificus Totalus curse. His already pale face seemed to drain of what little color it had left, his fiery eyes were locked onto the unconscious figure of Winky, his house-elf, lying motionless on the ground before him.

    The other Ministry officials all turned to look at Barty Crouch, their expressions a mix of shock, disbelief, and growing suspicion.

    When Mr. Diggory had first found Winky, she must have been lying face-down, which had mercifully protected her front from further harm. But her back... Harry felt his stomach lurch as he took in the full extent of her injuries. It was a sight no less horrifying than that of the unfortunate wizard they had seen in the forest earlier.

    The house-elf''s back was a mess of raw, blistered flesh, unmistakably the result of Professor Watson''s powerful magic. The wounds were covered in bloody scabs, some fresh and others already beginning to heal. Given the normal timeline of injury and recovery, the wounds shouldn''t have progressed to this stage of healing. It was clear that the little creature must have regained consciousness at some point after the initial injury and taken desperate measures to prevent her own demise.

    "This¡ª this is impossible," Barty Crouch finally broke his silence, his wordsing out in a stutter, so unlike his usual crisp, authoritative tone. "Impossible!!"

    Before anyone could react, before a single word of caution could be uttered, Crouch''s face contorted with a mixture of disbelief and something that looked unsettlingly like fear. With another resounding <strong>BANG,</strong> he Disapparated, reappearing a split secondter in the precariously bnced box above.

    "It''s no use, Mr. Crouch¡ª" Amos Diggory called up, his voice tinged with exasperation and a hint of concern. "I''ve checked thoroughly, there''s no one else up there!"

    But Diggory''s shout fell on deaf ears. The creaking sounds emanating from the box intensified, a clear indication that Mr. Crouch was conducting his own frantic search, unable or unwilling to ept the reality of the situation.

    Amos Diggory''s face hardened as he looked down at Winky''s unconscious form, his expression a mixture of stern disapproval and barely concealed embarrassment. "This is rather... ufortable," he said, choosing his words carefully but unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "Barty Crouch''s house-elf, of all creatures. It''s a delicate situation, I mean."

    Mr. Weasley spoke up quietly, his kind face creased with worry. "Now, now, Amos," he said, his tone pacifying. "Surely you don''t really think the elf did it? The Dark Mark is a wizard''s sign. It requires a wand andplex magic far beyond the capabilities of a house-elf."

    "Yes, well, about that," Amos replied, his eyebrows raised significantly as he reached into his pocket. With a curl, he produced a wand, holding it up for all to see. "She was holding this when I found her."

    Harry''s eyes widened in shock and relief as he recognized the familiar wand. "That''s my wand!" he eximed, unable to contain himself. He stepped forward, gratefully taking it back from Mr. Diggory and examined it closely. "I thought it was surely ruined in all this chaos!"

    Amos merely shrugged at Mr. Weasley, his expression grim. "You see, Arthur," he said, his tone taking on a more official air, "the elf had a wand. This is a clear vition of use Three of the Code of Wand Use: No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand. Thew is quite clear on this matter."

    Just then, with another pop, Barty Crouch Apparated next to Mr. Weasley. It was immediately apparent that his search of the box had yielded nothing. His hands were visibly shaking, and even his meticulously groomed toothbrush mustache seemed to be twitching.

    The situation now seemed painfully clear to all present. As one, the Ministry officials turned their collective gaze to the unconscious Winky on the ground, their expressions a mix of confusion, suspicion, and in some cases, barely concealed disdain. Some, however, couldn''t help but cast covert nces at Barty Crouch, clearly wondering how this would affect the career of the famously strict and by-the-book Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

    Mr. Diggory, seemingly considering himself the hero of the hour for uncovering this potential conspiracy, showed a small, smug smile. His chest puffed out slightly as he addressed the group, focusing particrly on Barty Crouch.

    "If you have no objections, Mr. Crouch," he said, his tone formal but with an undercurrent of excitement, "I think we should wake her up and hear what she has to say for herself."

    Crouch showed no visible reaction to this suggestion, his face was unreadable. But Hermione looked at Amos in surprise and growing indignation.

    "But sir," she interjected, her voice trembling slightly but gaining strength as she spoke, "the house-elf is severely injured. Surely the humane thing would be to treat her first? I mean, she can''t possibly answer questions coherently in this state."

    Amos raised an eyebrow at Hermione''s outburst, regarding her as if she''d just suggested they all take a break for a pic. But perhaps considering Barty Crouch''s position and delicate feelings, he adopted a more amiable tone.

    "That would indeed be the normal procedure, young miss, but you must understand, tonight we''ve suffered a major loss. The appearance of the Dark Mark is no small matter. We must quickly determine if this house-elf is an aplice or... something more."

    With that ominous statement hanging in the air, Amos pointed his own wand at Winky''s prone form. "Rennervate!"

    The effect was immediate. Winky stirred feebly, her small form twitching as consciousness returned. She seemed to want to turn over, perhaps to position herself, but this slight movement aggravated her extensive back wounds. Winky let out a heart-wrenching howl of pain, her cries of anguish quavering through the night air.

    Mr. Diggory didn''t wait for Winky to fully regain her senses or for her pain to subside. Instead, he ''helped'' her again, directly waving his wand to flip her over and levitate her slightly off the ground.

    As Winky''srge, tennis-ball sized eyes fluttered open and she realized who was surrounding her, her cries were suddenly cut off as if someone had cast a Silencing Charm. She stared with nk, wide eyes, her expression frozen in a grimace of fear and shock, as if an invisible hand had grabbed her by the throat.

    Harry, watching this scene unfold with growing unease, suddenly felt someone grasp his arm. Turning his head, he saw it was Hermione. Her face was a picture of distress, her slight frame swaying in the night breeze as if the weight of what she was witnessing was too much to bear. Harry pursed his lips, feeling a mixture of helplessness and anger. He watched Winky being interrogated, desperately wanting to offer help but not knowing how, or if he even could in this situation.

    <strong>....</strong>

    <strong>*scenebreak*</strong>

    Later, outside Sirius''s tent, after Mr. Weasley had given them a stern warning about staying out of trouble and hurriedly left with his Ministry colleagues to deal with the aftermath of the night''s events, Hermione could no longer contain her outrage.

    "I can''t believe Barty Crouch would do that!" she roared, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. Her bushy hair seemed to crackle with indignation as she paced back and forth in front of Harry and Ron.

    "There''s no substantial evidence proving Winky cast that spell. None! But Barty Crouch just... just dismissed her like that, without a second thought! He didn''t even want to treat the injuries of someone who had been loyally serving him for years. What does he think house-elves are, disposable ves?"

    Ron, leaning against the tent pole with his arms crossed, seemed surprisingly nonchnt about the house-elf''s fate. He calmly said, "You''ve hit the nail on the head there, Hermione, whether you meant to or not."

    Seeing Hermione''s confused look, he borated, his voice matter-of-fact. "House-elves are ves to their masters. It''s been that way for centuries. To be honest, Crouch dismissing her might actually be a good thing for her in the long run."

    Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Ron held up a hand, his expression unusually serious. "Hear me out, Hermione. If she were really taken back to the Ministry for questioning, well..." He paused, his freckled face scrunching up as if he was trying to find the right words. "My dad told me about some of the Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures'' methods. They''re not exactly known for their gentle touch, especially when ites to non-human magical beings suspected of dark magic use."

    Ron''s voice dropped to a near whisper, his blue eyes darting around as if afraid someone might overhear. "The way Dad describes it, if Winky had been taken in for official questioning, she probably wouldn''t have left there alive. At least not with her mind intact."

    Hermione''s eyes widened in shock, her face paling visibly even in the dim light outside the tent. She stared at Ron, apparently at a loss for words. It was clear that she hadn''t expected the Ministry''s treatment of non-human magical creatures to be quite so brutal.

    "I hope Dobby doesn''t end up like that," Harry, who had been silent up until now sighed deeply looking up at the deep night sky.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0453 The Following Days

    0453 The Following Days

    The golden rays of the morning sun had barely begun to filter through the windows of the Burrow when Sirius his face etched with concern and a hint of anger, learned of the previous night''s escapade. Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, had ventured out to the Quidditch pitch in search for his missing wand. This piece of news was delivered by an exhausted Mr. Weasley who had rushed home for a hasty breakfast before returning to his duties at the Ministry.

    This marked the first time Sirius had ever lost his temper with Harry. To punish Harry''s reckless behavior, not only did he forbid Harry from apanying him on the nned visit to St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries to see Remus, but he also confined him to the Burrow for the remainder of the summer holidays, prohibiting any excursions beyond Ottery St. Catchpole, effectively grounding Harry in a way he had never experienced before.

    The harshness of this decision sparked an immediate and fierce resistance from Harry. The argument that ensued between godfather and godson was explosive, causing the old house to practically tremor with the intensity of their disagreement. The shouting match reached such a fever pitch that it seemed as though the very roof might lift off its timbers and float away on the waves of their anger.

    In the end, it was Sirius who stormed out, his face ashen with anger. Harry, for his part, found himself with little choice but toply with the punishment. After all, where else could he go? The Dursleys'' house on Privet Drive was certainly not an option, and wandering off on his own would only serve to prove Sirius right about his recklessness.

    As the days turned into weeks, the wizarding world was caught in a whirlwind of excitement and spection. News of the dramatic events that had unfolded during the Quidditch World Cup final spread like Fiendfyre through magicalmunities across the globe. The Daily Prophet, never one to miss an opportunity for sensationalism, had transformed overnight into what amounted to a personal portrait gallery for Bryan Watson, who had be an instant legend.

    For a fortnight straight, the front page of the Daily Prophet featured a rotating selection of captivating photographs depicting Bryan''s duel with the dark witch Cliodna on the Quidditch pitch. These images, magical in nature, yed out the battle in miniature, allowing readers to relive the intense moments again and again. From the second page to the veryst, the Prophet was crammed with snapshots of Bryan''s rare public appearances before that night. Candid shots of him stepping out of the Ministry, formal portraits taken at hastily arranged press conferences, and even the odd picture of him simply going about his day became the subject of intense scrutiny and admiration.

    The entire wizarding world seemed to have nothing but one topic of conversation: the spectacr showdown between Bryan Watson and the infamous dark witch.

    To put the magnitude of this event into perspective, one had to look back half a century to find aparable moment in wizarding history. Thest time the magicalmunity had been so universally captivated was during the legendary duel between Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald in Paris. That battle, often referred to as the duel of the century, had pitted the two greatest wizards of the age against each other in a sh that had reshaped the course of magical history.

    However, the passage of time had dimmed the collective memory of that momentous event. Most of the witches and wizards who had been fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to witness that earth-shattering duel firsthand had long since passed on to the next great adventure.

    For the majority of the current magical poption, tales of Dumbledore and Grindelwald''s confrontation were just that ¨C <strong>tales</strong>, passed down through generations, growing more mythical with each retelling. Few concrete records existed, and fewer still had ever seen any tangible evidence of the duel''s true nature.

    In stark contrast, the battle between Bryan Watson and Cliodna had taken ce before an audience of over a hundred thousand witches and wizards. The sheer scale of witnesses was unprecedented in magical history. These spectators, hailing from every corner of the globe and representing diverse magicalmunities, had inadvertently given Bryan a worldwide stageto demonstrate his extraordinary magical prowess.

    The aftermath of this disy of power sent shockwaves through the highest echelons of magical governments. The International Confederation of Wizards, a body not known for its swift decision-making, passed a resolution at a speed that left many seasoned politicians ck-jawed in amazement. Without so much as a debate, they appointed Bryan Watson as the vice chairman of the council. The fact that Bryan himself was not present for the vote, nor had he expressed any interest in the position, did nothing to dissuade the Confederation. They considered the resolution valid, seemingly operating under the assumption that no sane wizard would refuse such an honor.

    But the Confederation was far from alone in its eagerness to align itself with the new star of the Wizarding world. Major wizarding organizations from various magical societies, sensing an opportunity to bask in reflected glory, extended symbolic olive branches to Bryan. These invitations came in the form of offers to take up prestigious ¨C though notably powerless ¨C positions within their ranks.

    The list of organizations vying for Bryan''s attention was so extensive that it could have filled an entire page of the Daily Prophet, were the newspaper not already dedicated to singing his praises. Interestingly, and perhaps tellingly, Bryan hadn''t responded positively to any of these offers, maintaining a silence that only seemed to fuel further spection and admiration.

    Yet, as with any event of such magnitude, the wave of praise was not without its undercurrent of criticism and controversy. In the days following the incident, as the dust settled and the more somber task of ounting for casualties began, a disturbing picture emerged.

    Post-incident statistics,piled by a joint task force of Ministry officials and St. Mungo''s healers, revealed a grim truth. Over a hundred wizards, caught in the crossfire of Bryan and Cliodna''s duel, had failed to escape the Quidditch stadium in time.

    While the swift and tireless efforts of the staff at St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries managed to save many lives, pulling witches and wizards back from the very brink of death, not all were so fortunate. A significant number of those caught in the magical crossfire lost their lives on the pitch, their final moments spent amidst a spectacle of power that they had note to witness as entertainment.

    The families of the deceased, their grief raw and their anger palpable, were understandably unwilling to let the matter rest. United in their sorrow and their demand for justice, they organized themselves into a group. With determination born of loss, they stormed the British Ministry of Magic and demanded severe punishment for Bryan Watson, the man they saw as responsible for their loved ones'' deaths.

    The Ministry, caught between the rock of public adoration for Bryan and the hard ce of grieving families seeking justice, pulled out all the stops in an attempt to deflect and pacify. For those families willing to ept marypensation ¨C though many saw this as an insult to the memory of their lost ones ¨C the Ministry offered substantial additional payments, hoping that galleons might soothe where words could not.

    For those adamant about seeing Bryan Watson punished, the Ministry employed a different tactic. They worked tirelessly to shift the me onto Cliodna, constructing a narrative that painted their loved ones as victims of the dark witch''s malice. ording to this version of events, promulgated by Ministry spokeswizards at every opportunity, Bryan Watson had done everything in his considerable power to save as many lives as possible. The implication was made clear: <strong>without his intervention, the death toll would have been far higher.</strong>

    This exnation, carefully crafted though it was, failed to convince everyone. Many of the grieving families saw through what they perceived as a transparent attempt to protect a new national hero at the expense of truth and justice. Frustrated by the Ministry''s stonewalling, they turned their attention to another powerful institution in the wizarding world: <strong>The Press.</strong>

    The families rushed en masse to the offices of the Daily Prophet. Their hope was simple¨C to make their voices heard through the pages of the newspaper, to share their stories of loss and their demand for ountability with the wider wizarding world.

    The Daily Prophet''s response to this emotional plea was, to put it mildly, underwhelming. In what many saw as heartless dismissal of genuine grief and valid concerns, the newspaper mentioned the matter only briefly. This fleeting acknowledgment was buried in a small column on thest page, a spot usually reserved for word puzzles and advertisements for second-hand cauldrons.

    After that single, paltry mention, the issue sank like a stone in the ck Lake, disappearing from the public discourse as if it had never existed. The Daily Prophet returned to its regrly scheduled praise of Bryan Watson, and the voices of the bereaved were effectively silenced.

    As the days passed and the initial shock of the attack began to wane, another question began to dominate among the general public. Witches and wizards across the country, and indeed across the world, were pondering the same perplexing issue: who was the mastermind behind that night''s attack, and what were their motives?

    On this question, the British Ministry of Magic, perhaps eager to regain some of the public trust it had lost in its handling of the victims'' families, provided what many considered a somewhat satisfactory answer. However, the conciseness and vagueness of their exnation left ample room for spection and conspiracy theories to flourish.

    The day after the attack, as the wizarding world was demanding for answers, the Ministry issued a statement. It was brief, almost frustratingly so, but it offered a grain of information for the public totch onto.

    ording to the official line, the attackers were identified as a group of Voldemort devotees. However, the Ministry was quick to rify that these were not true followers of the Dark Lord ¨C not Death Eaters in the traditional sense. Instead, they were characterized as misguided individuals who hadmitted these atrocious crimes merely to pay homage to Voldemort''s legacy of terror.

    This exnation, while providing a framework for understanding the attack, raised as many questions as it answered. Who were these devotees? How had they organized such arge-scale attack without detection? And perhaps most pressingly, was this an isted incident, or the beginning of a new wave of dark wizard activity?

    In the days that followed, the Ministry seemed determined to demonstrate its efficiency and control over the situation. The wizarding world received daily reports, each one detailing the number of dark wizards involved in the incident who had been apprehended. These reports, delivered with mechanical regrity, painted a picture of a Ministry working tirelessly to bring the perpetrators to justice.

    The Wizengamot, the high court of Magical Britain, disyed an efficiency that many found reminiscent of the Death Eater trials that had followed Voldemort''s downfall. Every day, several unfamiliar faces ¨C witches and wizards who had never before graced the pages of the Daily Prophet¨C were escorted out of the Wizengamot courtroom by stern-faced Aurors. Their destinations were always the same: directly to Azkaban, the dreaded wizarding prison.

    These processions of the condemned became a daily spectacle, all conducted under the watchful eyes of reporters who dutifully recorded each grim-faced wizard and each witch as they were led away to face magical justice.

    The message they wanted to send was clear: the Ministry was in control, and those who sought to disrupt the peace of Magical Britain would face swift and severe consequences.

    Meanwhile, in the shadowy corners of various European magicalmunities, a different kind of upheaval was taking ce. Panic spread like corona-virus among those wizards who had been dwelling in the underground world. Rumors circted, growing more borate and terrifying with each retelling, about a powerful madman who was hunting them down.

    On the thirteenth day after the attack, just as the wizarding public was beginning to grow weary of the incessant reports about Bryan Watson''s heroics and the ongoing roundup of dark wizards, another bombshell was dropped. This new development would reignite public interest and set tongues wagging from Hogsmeade to Horizont Alley.

    The usually bustling atrium of the Ministry of Magic, a ce known more for its bureaucratic monotony than for drama, suddenly transformed into the stage of a momentous event. Reporters, who had been camping out in hopes of glimpsing Bryan Watson or securing an elusive interview, and Amidst them, witches and wizards who hade to the Ministry on routine business all paused, their attention drawn by something extraordinary.

    From the grand fireces that lined the atrium, green mes red with an unusual intensity, heralding the arrival of a procession that caused every eye in the vast hall to widen in disbelief. At the center of this group, looking bewildered and undeniably worse for wear, was none other than Cliodna herself¡ªthe dark witch who had dueled Bryan Watson, who had brought terror to the Quidditch World Cup, and who had been the subject of countless nightmares and heated discussions over the past two weeks.

    nking her on one side was Bryan Watson, on her other side strode Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office. Behind them came a team of elite Aurors forming a protective and restraining circle around the captured dark witch.

    The Daily Prophet, never one to let such a good story slip through its fingers, sprang into action with a speed that would have impressed even the nimblest Seeker. Within hours, a special edition was rushed to print, owl posts were working overtime, and newsstands across Magical Britain were swamped with eager readers, all desperate to learn the details of this shocking turn of events.

    That evening, as families gathered for dinner in homes across magical Britain, the special edition of the Daily Prophet was the center of attention.

    Harry who was bored and confined to the Burrow, got hold of the special edition of the Daily Prophet.

    Across the dinner table sat Mr. Weasley, who was home for the first time in nearly two weeks. The toll of his work at the Ministry was evident in his gaunt appearance and the dark circles that had taken up permanent residence under his eyes. He picked at his food listlessly, his mind clearly elsewhere.

    Harry, unable to contain his thoughts any longer, broke the unusually tense silence that had settled over the usually boisterous Weasley dinner table.

    "The paper''s been iming that the Ministry learned from interrogations that this dark witch was the mastermind behind that night''s attack and the leader of those masked wizards," Harry said, shaking the newspaper. "It says the dark witch has confessed to the charges, but that''s clearly problematic, Mr. Weasley. Many people in the box that night saw that the masked wizards and the dark witch didn''t even know each other. They were¡ª"

    "Let''s just let this matter rest, Harry," Mr. Weasley said in an almost pleading tone, dark circles prominent under his eyes.

    The abrupt end to the conversation left an ufortable silence hanging in the air. Harry opened his mouth as if to protest further, but something in Mr. Weasley''s exhausted expression made him think better of it. He closed his mouth, his teeth clicking audibly, and slumped back in his chair, frustration evident in every line of his body.

    Just as the silence was bing increasingly unbearable, George''s voice cut through the silence. "Dad¡ª" he said, an unusual note of seriousness in his tone that immediately drew everyone''s attention. "Have you seen Mr. Bagman recently?"

    The question seemed toe out of nowhere, and for a moment, Mr. Weasley looked confused.

    Beside Harry, Ron, who had been listlessly pushing food around his te, suddenly perked up. His posture straightened, and he pricked up his ears, his eyes fixed intently on his father.

    Mr. Weasley sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "No, Ludo''s gone to Paris recently," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "He''s there to, um, prepare for another event." A pause, then, almost as if he couldn''t help himself, he added, "Honestly, he''s quite crafty, dodging all the trouble. I rather envy him¡ª"

    He broke off suddenly, as if realizing he''d said more than he intended. Quickly, he attempted to redirect the conversation. "Why, did you need him for something?"

    The question was apanied by a wide yawn that seemed to crack Mr. Weasley''s jaw. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes, showing his exhaustion.

    George opened his mouth to respond, a determined look on his face, but before he could get a word out, Mrs. Weasley bustled in from the kitchen. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on her husband''s exhausted state, and her face softened with sympathy.

    "Go get some sleep, Arthur," she said gently,ying aforting hand on his shoulder. "The Ministry might send word again in the middle of the night."

    "That''s a certainty¡ª" Mr. Weasley muttered between yawns. No longer concerned about why George was asking about Ludo, he stood up unsteadily and wobbled towards the stairs.

    "You all need to turn in early tonight too!" Mrs. Weasley said to the others. "Hogwarts has sent the list of items you''ll need for next term. We need to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to buy your school supplies."

    "Can I go too?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up.

    "Oh, of course, dear!" Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry affectionately.

    "But Sirius¡ª"

    "My word is final in this house, Harry¡ª" Mrs. Weasley said with a smile. "I think you''ve learned your lesson, and besides, we need to buy a couple of special items of clothing. You simply muste along!"

    "What special clothing?"

    Ron, who had been watching his father climb the stairs until he disappeared from view, immediately turned his head back upon hearing his mother''s words.

    "Oh¡ª" Mrs. Weasley''s eyes twinkled. "You''ll find out tomorrow, Ron. Now, off you go¡ª shower and get to bed."

    Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley siblings gradually stood up and headed upstairs. The prospect of going to Diagon Alley greatly improved Harry''s mood, making him less eager to discuss with Ron and Hermione about Professor Watson bringing the dark witch to justice.

    "I wonder if Professor Dumbledore has found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Harry thought aloud.

    "He''ll figure something out," Hermione said. "And if no one else is willing to take the job, I''m sure Professor Watson would step in."

    <em>''If Professor Watson were to teach them again, that would be the best possible oue.''</em>

    Harry didn''t voice this thought, but it was on his mind. After witnessing that duel on the night of the Quidditch World Cup final, no one would pass up the chance to learn a thing or two from Professor Watson. Harry had made up his mind that no matter how challenging it might be, he would stick with Professor Watson''s physical education ss.

    Reaching the third floor, Harry opened the door and was about to enter. Hermione, not ready to sleep yet, followed Harry into the room, intending to discuss the recent news from the Ministry of Magic. However, Ron stopped at the doorway. Faced with Harry and Hermione''s puzzled looks, Ron hesitated before saying,

    "I need to talk to Fred and George about something¡ª"

    With that, Ron headed up to the fourth floor. Harry and Hermione exchanged nces and simultaneously let out a sigh.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0454 Return

    0454 Return

    The tranquil summer days in the picturesque vige of St. Catchpole were drawing to a close, with the second-tost day of vacation marked by a dramatic shift in weather.

    As night fell, a gentle rain began to patter against windowpanes and thatched roofs. By the time Harry and his friends ventured outside, the light drizzle had transformed into a relentless downpour. The once-distinct silhouette of Stoatshead Hill had been reduced to nothing more than a hazy, indistinct outline, barely visible through the thick curtain of gloomy rain that enveloped thendscape.

    The Weasley household was in a state of unusual silence. Mr. Weasley had departed early for another long day at the office. Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley had taken it upon herself to escort the remaining children to Diagon Alley to buy the supplies necessary for the uing school year. The absence of the family''s usual hustle and bustle left the Burrow feeling eerily empty, with only the rhythmic pitter-patter of rainwater infiltrating a corner of the kitchen to break the silence.

    Suddenly, the peaceful atmosphere was shattered by a resounding <strong>"Whoosh!"</strong> The firece, its embers still glowing faintly from the morning''s fire, erupted into life. A swirling vortex of vibrant emerald mes burst forth from the ckened hearth, and from the dazzling fire emerged Sirius and Remus.

    Remus, who had stayed at St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries for over a fortnight, appeared even more pale and gaunt than usual. His movements were sluggish and unsteady, giving the impression that even the slightest breeze might topple him.

    This frail state wasn''t a result of any lingering injuries from the chaotic night of the Quidditch World Cup final, but rather the aftermath of his most recent transformation. Despite now having the financial means to buy the expensive Wolfsbane Potion, which helped him retain his human mind during his monthly transformations into a werewolf, it couldn''tpletely eliminate the weakness following his transformation.

    And Sirius hadn''t returned to the Burrow during this time because he was taking care of Remus during his recovery.

    As Sirius walked in to the Weasley''s cozy living room, his demeanor was uncharacteristically cautious and wary. His grey eyes darted about the room, taking in every detail as if expecting some hidden danger. He craned his neck, straining his ears to detect any sign of movement from the floors above.

    "They''re not home, Sirius¡ª" Remus observed with a pale smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement at Sirius''s odd behavior.

    "How can you be so sure?" Sirius inquired, his brow furrowed with curiosity. In response, Remus simply raised a scarred hand, pointing towards an unusual clock mounted on the living room wall. This was no ordinary timepiece, but the Weasley family''s enchanted clock, which showed the whereabouts of each family member instead of the time.

    "Oh¡ª" Sirius exhaled, his tense posture immediately rxing. He casually walked to the table, pulled out a chair, sat down, and poured himself a ss of water from the still-warm teapot. After drinking it in one gulp, he let out a long sigh, his expression turning indignant.

    "Disobedient, reckless." Sirius grumbled, running a hand through his shaggy ck hair. "I explicitly forbade him from going out!"

    "Well, the new school term begins the day after tomorrow, I guess Molly probably took the children to Diagon Alley to buy supplies¡ª¡ª" Remus reasoned, lowering himself delicately into a chair opposite Sirius. He reached for the teapot, testing its temperature with a gentle touch. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face at the lukewarm temperature. With a flick of his wand, he muttered a warming charm. Almost instantly, a plume of steam began to rise from the spout, filling the air with theforting aroma of tea.

    Through the rising mist, Remus caught sight of the gloom that had settled over Sirius''s features. A helpless smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he pondered the situation. "You still haven''t forgiven Harry, have you?"

    "Look at what he did that night, Remus!" Sirius exploded, his words bursting forth like a long-constrained firework finally finding release. The question had indeed been the spark to ignite Sirius''s smoldering frustration.

    After a month, the dark tan he''d developed from wind and sun at sea had faded considerably, but Sirius''s face still darkened thoroughly when Remus mentioned Harry.

    "The most dangerous riot in over a decade was still raging around us," Sirius continued, his voice rising with each word. "The fiercest wizard''s duel in half a century had barely concluded. I warned them ¨C I explicitly warned them not to leave the safety of the tent on their own. But what did they do? They brazenly disregarded my words! They used James''s Invisibility Cloak to sneak back to the devastated pitch to search for that wand and in doing so, they stumbled right into the path of the Dark Mark!"

    Sirius paused, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Remus opened his mouth to interject, but Sirius, caught in the tide of his own indignation, pressed on.

    "Oh, sure, they caught Barty Crouch''s house-elf in the end. But we both know someone like Crouch would never in a million years teach his house-elf how to conjure the Dark Mark. I''d bet myst Galleon that the real culprit was lurking in that VIP box that night, Remus. If Arthur and the other Ministry officials hadn''t reacted so swiftly, if those three hadn''t luckily run below the box when Arthur''s group did... Merlin''s beard, the three of them could have lost their lives right then and there!"

    Remus leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concern, clearly wanting to offer some words of reason. But Sirius, having caught his second wind, barreled on, his frustration flowing continuously.

    "But here''s the kicker, Remus ¨C he still adamantly refuses to admit he was in the wrong! Can you believe the cheek of that boy? He even had the audacity to tell me I had no right to lecture him because I supposedly did ''far more outrageous things'' during our time at Hogwarts! As if our schoolboy antics couldpare to the danger he willingly walked into!"

    Remus pressed his lips together, fighting to suppress the smile that tried to break across his face. He took a moment, supposedly to sip his tea, before responding.

    "Well, objectively speaking, Harry''s not entirely wrong in his assessment," Remus said carefully, his tone measured. "Have you noticed, Sirius, that when you''re lecturing Harry, you bear a striking resemnce to Molly when she''s scolding Fred and George?"

    Sirius''s tirade came to an abrupt halt, his mouth hanging open in shock. For a moment, he sat in silence, processing Remus''s words. Then, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders slumped, and he hung his head in a gesture of dejection.

    "But... but he should have at least informed me, shouldn''t he?" Sirius mumbled, his voice now barely above a whisper.

    Remus''s expression softened, empathy shining in his eyes. "I''m certain they must have discussed it before leaving the tent," he reasoned. "At the very least, Hermione would have raised the issue ¨C that girl has a level head on her shoulders. But I imagine Harry managed to persuade her otherwise. If I were to make a guess, I''d say Harry''s reasoning was that he didn''t want to disturb your rest. After all, you had just emerged from an incredibly taxing duel that night. In his own way, perhaps he was caring about you."

    Sirius fell into a contemtive silence, but Remus could see that his words had had an effect as Sirius''s expression had softened considerably.

    "Avoidance won''t resolve this issue, Sirius," Remus said gently, "I think you should seek out an opportunity to¡ª"

    <strong>BANG!</strong>

    A sudden, sharp noise cut through the persistent, dull patter of falling rain, causing both men to jump. Remus''s words died in his throat as he whipped his head towards the door, eyes wide with surprise. Sirius, too, lifted his head, his body instantly tensing as if preparing for a fight.

    "Have they returned already?" Sirius asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

    "Impossible¡ª" Remus replied, rising slowly from his chair. He began to move towards the back door, his steps cautious and measured. "Molly couldn''t possibly Apparate with so many children in tow, and Arthur must surely be working overtime given recent events. Draw your wand, Sirius. These are not peaceful times we live in."

    Remus''s assessment of the situation was spot on. Sirius sprang to his feet, his wand appearing in his hand as if conjured. With the fluid movements of two men ustomed to watching each other''s backs, they positioned themselves on either side of the door. Their eyes remained focused on the wooden panel, muscles coiled and ready to spring into action at a moment''s notice.

    Just as Remus was about to call out a challenge to whoever stood on the other side, a familiar voice, tinged with both amusement and mild exasperation, drifted through the door.

    "You two paranoid fools with your wands at the ready behind the door, would you mind helping me open it? The rain outside is heavy, and my robes are almost soaked through¡ª"

    Remus and Sirius behind the door suddenly widened their eyes in delight!

    "Why are you the only ones here?" Bryan inquired, a note of curiosity in his voice. "Where have the others gone off to?"

    With Bryan''s arrival, the dim living room gained some liveliness. After magically drying the water from his robes, Bryan, with a hint of fatigue in his eyes, held a teacup and scanned the room. He easily noticed that the Weasley family, including their guests Harry and Hermione, were not there.

    "They probably went with Molly to buy things in Diagon Alley¡ª" Remus said. He looked Bryan up and down, then suddenly asked,

    "The Daily Prophet said you assisted the Ministry in arresting that dark witch. How did you manage it?"

    Bryan''s eyebrow arched slightly at the question, but he remained silent, allowing Remus to exin.

    "What I mean is," Remus continued, his curiosity getting the better of him, "we didn''t hear any reports of another earth-shattering duel breaking out somewhere. Given you guys'' recent reputation, one would have expected... well, something more dramatic."

    "Oh¡ª" After inwardly praising Remus''s sharpness, Bryan smiled. "You all know I confiscated her Staff on the night of the Quidditch final. That was the source of her power. Without that Staff, her abilities were greatly diminished."

    "That''s bloody impressive--" Sirius said enthusiastically, looking at Bryan, who had such a calm demeanor, after his recent doings.

    "When I was at St. Mungo''s, I heard from an injured Hit Wizard that many people are already nominating you to be the next Minister for Magic or Headmaster of Hogwarts. Various strange organizations have also sent you invitations. But so far, you haven''t responded to any of them."

    "Actually¡ª" Bryan took a sip of tea and smiled. "I''ve epted an invitation from the International Confederation of Wizards to serve as Vice-President."

    "The International Confederation of Wizards¡ª" Remus blinked. "Why did you choose to ept their invitation? I mean, in most cases, that organization doesn''t have much effect."

    "Perhaps, but I believe I might need that title in the future--" Bryan said vaguely. Then, he turned to Sirius.

    "With the school year approaching and the Triwizard Tournamenting up next year, I n to return to Hogwarts today to make some preparations. But before leaving, I remembered your matter. Someone told me you were at St. Mungo''s taking care of Remus, but when I went there, I found you had already left. I guessed you might have returned to the Burrow¡ª"

    "My matter?" Sirius opened his mouth, confused. "Do you need me to help with something, Bryan?"

    Bryan''s pressed lips twitched, and he rolled his eyes slightly.

    "On the night of the Quidditch final, before I went to the Ministry, you said you wanted to talk to me privately. Now you''ve forgotten about it?"

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    Thete summer thunder rumbled across the sky, its deep, resonant tones softenedpared to the sharp cracks of midsummer storms. Yet with each low growl from the heavens, the rain intensified, falling in heavy sheets that blurred the world beyond the windows into a gray, misty haze. The pitter-patter of raindrops against the roof and windows created a constant, soothing background rhythm, mixed by the asional gurgle of overwhelmed gutters.

    "Oh, I forgot!" Sirius eximed suddenly, the sharp sound of his palm meeting his forehead cutting through the ambient noise of the storm. His eyes, were filled with frustration and a hint of worry. "Harry''s got me so worked up, Ipletely forgot about this!"

    As he spoke, a small whirlpool of rainwater began to form just outside the door, as the dim and archaic gutter system was inadequate for the overflow. The water bubbled and bubbled as it spilled over the edges of the drain, creating a miniature flood on the doorstep.

    "What''s the matter?" Bryan asked with interest, leaning back in his chair with a teacup in hand. Theing days would be filled with many things to consider; these two days before the students returned to Hogwarts were perhaps thest opportunity to maintain any semnce of a leisurely state of mind.

    Sirius exchanged a meaningful nce with Remus. After this wordless exchange, Sirius fell into a contemtive silence, his brow furrowed in thought.

    Remus, sensing the need to fill the growing silence, cleared his throat softly before speaking. "It''s about the night of the Quidditch World Cup Final," he exined, his amber eyes flickering between Sirius and Bryan. "Harry, Ron, and Hermione had a rather rming encounter with the Dark Mark.

    The three of them snuck out to search for Harry''s missing wand without informing anyone of their intentions. Sirius only learned of this incident from Arthur the next day. You probably already know he gave Harry quite a scolding for it?"

    After stepping into the role of a father, many thoughts change imperceptibly, especially for someone like Sirius who had been through so much.

    Bryan nodded. "Yes, Fudge mentioned the first part of that incident to me,"

    "What are your thoughts on the matter?" Remus asked, his expression growing even more solemn.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0455 Future Plans(Large Chapter)

    0455 Future ns(Large Chapter)

    Bryan understood immediately what Remus was truly asking. The Ministry of Magic had issued an official statement iming that the masked wizards who hadunched the attack during the Quidditch World Cup were merely poor imitators. However, those privy to special channels of the ministry knew that this exnation was far from the whole truth.

    The appearance of the Dark Mark that night cast a long shadow of doubt over the Ministry''s narrative. This wasn''t just any spell; it was a powerful and specific magical mark, one that Voldemort himself had taught exclusively to his inner circle of Death Eaters. The very presence of the Dark Mark raised ufortable questions: If these were truly just a band of imitators, how had they learned to cast this particr spell? The inconsistency was conspicuous, and it made the Ministry''s exnation ring hollow to those who knew better.

    Politicians, Bryan thought silently, were always quick with their lies and half-truths. Fudge had moved swiftly to suppress any further discussion of the incident within the Ministry. He had gone so far as to prevent the Daily Prophet from reporting on the true nature of the events that had transpired that night.

    "Barty handled it decisively¡ª" Bryan said casually, his tone deliberately light as he brushed off the topic. Knowing more often meant keeping more secrets, and it had be second nature to him to y his cards close to his chest. However, even as he deflected the question, his mind was working actively, processing the inferences of what had urred.

    The house-elf who served Barty Crouch Sr. was an unlikely suspect in the casting of the Dark Mark. This left an unsettling question: <em>''Who had conjured it?''</em>

    Bryan''s thoughts turned to hidden Death Eaters who may have been present in the Top Box that night, like Lucius Malfoy. Could one of them have cast the Mark, perhaps in an attempt to prove their loyalty before Voldemort''s return?

    Pushing these dark thoughts aside for the moment, Bryan turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "Tell me about your situation, Sirius," he said, his voice calm and unhurried as he refilled his teacup. "What did you want to discuss?"

    Sirius, who had been lost in his own troubled thoughts, seemed to snap back to the present at Bryan''s words. "Oh, there''s no need to leave, Remus," he said quickly, noticing his friend''s subtle shift as if preparing to excuse himself. "I got this idea partly because of you, actually¡ª"

    Sirius took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling noticeably as he gathered his thoughts. He looked directly at Bryan; his gaze firm.

    "The thing is¡ª"

    Sirius began and recounted the whole story, first telling Bryan about Fred and George''s conflict with their mother, Mrs. Weasley, over their development of prank products. He then exined Remus''s intention to invest in Fred and George''s joke shop in Hogsmeade and the real thoughts behind Remus''s actions. Finally, he spoke about his own aimless state since leaving Hogwarts.

    Ever since Sirius and Remus learned about Harry''s dreams, they had a strong premonition that Voldemort, lurking in the shadows, was bing increasingly active.

    And on the night of the Quidditch World Cup Final, after Bryan defeated Cliodna, the monster that came to her rescue and caused Harry''s scar to hurt again¡ªwhile the Ministry had its official exnation for the public, those who knew better found it far from convincing. Sirius and Remus were among those who recognized Cliodna as a likely aplice of Voldemort, a realization that only added to their growing sense of urgency.

    The war between them and Voldemort had never truly ended. Thirteen years ago, James and Lily had used their lives to temporarily halt the war, buying a brief period of peace for the wizarding world. But, now, the mes of war were about to reignite.

    The pain of the past was etched clearly on both Sirius and Remus''s faces. The war thirteen years ago had left them both with deep, unhealed wounds and regrets that haunted them still. The loss of James and Lily, the years of mistrust between them, and the long, lonely years that followed ¨C all of it weighed heavily on their souls. This time, they were determined to be prepared, to do everything in their power to prevent history from repeating itself.

    "I know you and Dumbledore probably have ns in ce, Bryan," Sirius continued, his voice thick with emotion. He sniffled slightly, his eyes shining with a mix of determination and barely contained tears. Across the table, Remus sat silently, staring nkly at his hands resting on his knees, seemingly lost in memories as well.

    "But I hope¡ª" Sirius paused, gathering himself before continuing, his voice stronger now, filled with resolve, "¡ªI hope I can y a role in protecting Harry from harm. I couldn''t be there for him before, but I''m here now, and I want to do everything I can to keep him safe."

    The scars left by war never truly heal. If anything, the passage of time only seemed to deepen the pain they brought, etching the memories ever more firmly into the psyche of those who had lived through the horror and loss.

    Bryan leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting upward to the old, weathered ceiling of the Weasley family''s living room. The silence that fell was heavy with contemtion, each man lost in his own thoughts about the challenges thaty ahead.

    Since he had epted Dumbledore''s invitation to return to Hogwarts as the head of the Student Safety Office in thetter half ofst year, he had already made the decision to stand in opposition to Voldemort in the future.

    Neither Dumbledore nor Bryan harbored any illusions about the nature of the conflict they were facing. Despite their alliance andbined strengths, they knew better than to underestimate Voldemort. Whaty before them was not a simple duel, but a full-scale war.

    The oue of such a war, Bryan knew, would not be determined by the victory or defeat of one or two individuals in isted confrontations. It would involve aplex intery of factors: strategy, resources, alliances, and the ability to adapt to rapidly changing circumstances.

    However, even as they faced this looming threat together, Bryan was well aware that his approach to theing conflict differed significantly from Dumbledore''s. While their ultimate goal of defeating Voldemort''s schemes aligned, their specific methods and priorities diverged in important ways.

    Dumbledore was primarily concerned with Voldemort himself. His hope was to win this battle with minimal casualties and as little damage to the wizarding society as possible.

    Bryan, on the other hand, saw theing conflict as an opportunity to address some of the deep-seated problems that had long gued the wizarding world. He hoped to use the intensity of the struggle against Voldemort as a catalyst for change, a chance to root out¡ª

    Moreover, Bryan''s perspective on the situation was furtherplicated by knowledge and suspicions that he had not shared even with Dumbledore.

    Cliodna''s allegiance to Voldemort was certainly not as simple as it seemed. It involved the schemes of the four Hogwarts founders, as well as the seemingly unrted mythical figures of Herpo and Merlin.

    The alliance between the Druid priestess and the Dark Lord was like the final piece of aplex puzzle, allowing Bryan to see the intricate connections that had long remained hidden. Yet even as some mysteries began to unravel, new questions arose, each more perplexing than thest.

    Bryan''s recent trip to Azkaban had shed light on the origins of the Dementors, those dreadful creatures that seemed to embody despair and hopelessness. Yet this new knowledge only deepened the mystery surrounding the actions of Rowena Ravenw and Godric Gryffindor. Why had these two great founders been so determined to eliminate the unique existence of Dementors?

    Adding to his unease was the strange transformation of his own Patronus when confronted with Dementors. This unexpected phenomenon hinted at connections and powers that Bryan did not yet fully understand, leaving him with a sense of vulnerability that was both unfamiliar and deeply troubling.

    The imminent return of Voldemort, Bryan knew, would bring certain plots against him out into the open. But for now, the full truth remained shrouded in mist.

    "Bryan?" Sirius''s voice, soft and tinged with confusion, broke through Bryan''s reverie. The prolonged silence had clearly unsettled both Sirius and Remus, who were watching him with a mixture of concern and anticipation.

    "I''m considering some things¡ª" Bryan said calmly, his voice showing none of theplex calctions and considerations running through his mind. After this brief statement, he fell silent once more, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic pattern on the table.

    As he pondered the situation, Bryan''s gaze shifted between Sirius and Remus. Both men, he knew, were eager to y a more active role in the fight against Voldemort and in protecting Harry.

    Dumbledore''s ns, as far as Bryan understood them, revolved primarily around Harry himself. The boy who had survived Voldemort''s killing curse as an infant was central to his strategy, though the exact nature of Harry''s importance remained a closely guarded secret even to him. However, it seemed that Dumbledore had not included Sirius and Remus in his core strategic nning, perhaps out of a desire to protect them or simply due to the secretive nature of his approach.

    For Bryan, however, these two represented a valuable resource ¨C trustworthy allies with unique skills and experiences that could provide significant assistance in the impending chaos. Their appearance before him now, seeking guidance, seemed almost like a gift from fate itself.

    <em>''What a wonderful coincidence''</em>

    Bryan focused his gaze on Sirius, seeing the eager anticipation for reasonable advice in his eyes.

    As he contemted the best course of action, Bryan''s mind raced through the structure of the Ministry of Magic. He mentally listed the major administrative departments and important institutions, each with its own sphere of influence and potential:

    <em><strong>- Department of Magical Law Enforcement</strong></em>

    <em><strong>- Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures</strong></em>

    <em><strong>- Department of International Magical Cooperation</strong></em>

    <em><strong>- Department of Magical Games and Sports</strong></em>

    <em><strong>- Department of Mysteries</strong></em>

    <em><strong>- Wizengamot</strong></em>

    After a long deliberation, Bryan finally spoke. Looking at Sirius, he asked in a slow and calm tone,

    "I wonder if you''d be interested in taking a position in the Auror Office, Sirius?"

    When Bryan calmly stated his intention, the Weasley living room fell into a prolonged silence. Sirius''s mouth hung slightly open; his brow furrowed. Judging by his bewildered expression, he seemed to think Bryan was joking.

    Remus, however, knew that Bryan would never joke on such a serious matter. His eyes glimmered with contemtion as he tried his utmost to understand why Bryan would make such an absurd proposal.

    "To work at the Auror Office, to be an Auror."

    Sirius leaned back; his mouth still half-open. "You mean, to be Fudge''s subordinate?"

    The very idea seemed to fill Sirius with distaste. His face contorted as if he had just bitten into something particrly sour, the thought of working under the man who had been content to see him rot in Azkaban was clearly an unptable one.

    Bryan''s response was apanied by a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes. "Perhaps you and Cornelius Fudge don''t particrly admire each other," he said, his tone light and almost teasing, "but there''s no real animosity, is there?"

    "That''s not the issue, Bryan¡ª" Sirius''s frustration was palpable as he vigorously rubbed his face with his open palms, as if trying to physically wipe away his confusion. When he lowered his hands, his expression was one of utter bafflement. "You want me to be an Auror, to make a criminal who was imprisoned in Azkaban for over a decade into someone who captures criminals. Bryan, what on earth are you thinking?"

    Bryan''s gaze on Sirius''s face intensified, his eyes seeming to bore into the Sirius''s soul. His voice was calm, measured, each word carefully chosen. "First of all, you''ve been proven innocent, Sirius. Your imprisonment in Azkaban was a mistake by the Ministry and the Wizengamot."

    He continued, a hint of something like enthusiasm creeping into his voice, "Secondly, I believe this job suits your personality perfectly, doesn''t it? Exciting, full of danger, fighting against evil¡ªI''m sure you''d enjoy it."

    "That''s not the point, Bryan¡ª" Remus, who had been silently observing the exchange finally decided to voice his opinion.

    "The Auror Office is the elite force of the Ministry of Magic. I''ve learned from an acquaintance in the DMLE that every Auror must undergo lengthy and rigorous training and assessments before officially taking the position. Of course, Sirius''s skills would be up to the task, but to bypass those selection mechanisms and directly make Sirius an official Auror¡ªI''m afraid even Albus couldn''t manage that."

    Bryan nodded, acknowledging Remus''s words. "Under normal circumstances, it would indeed be difficult¡ª" he began, his expression unchanged. "But fortunately, I''ve just done the Ministry a big favor. From Cornelius Fudge to the various department heads, they''re all eager to repay this debt."

    A sly smile appeared at the corners of Bryan''s mouth as he continued, "I believe if Siriuses with my letter of rmendation, the Ministry will seriously consider it. At least, it''s more likely than if I were to propose entering the Ministry myself to serve as an official in some department¡ª"

    Silence fell again. Sirius and Remus, one pondering if being an Auror truly suited him, the other contemting the possibility of Bryan pulling this off.

    <strong>Huh¡ª</strong>

    After a long while, Sirius and Remus both let out a sigh. They had to admit, Bryan''s seemingly absurd suggestion, upon careful consideration, did have some merit.

    However, this didn''t mean they were ready to fully ept the proposal. Remus''s gaze, when it finally settled back on Bryan, was prating. He looked at the young face across from him, shrouded in wisps of tea mist yet exuding an unusual authority that seemed at odds with his age. When Remus spoke, his voice was direct, cutting straight to the heart of his greatest concern:

    "What are you nning, Bryan? Do you want to send Sirius to the Auror Office as some sort of spy? Or do you want to be the Minister for Magic?"

    Remus, who had lived his entire life in a world full of discrimination and prejudice due to his lycanthropy, He naturally harbored aversion and disgust towards politicians and their machinations. So, upon keenly perceiving the possible intentions behind Bryan''s proposal, he immediately became wary.

    "Heh, politics isn''t something to be trifled with, Remus. Fudge represents the interests of a group of people. Kicking him out of office isn''t something that can be aplished just by nting a spy," Bryan chuckled. "Besides, I don''t want to be the Minister for Magic because I don''t want to spend the rest of my life considering and bncing interests among all parties. It''s boring."

    The look that Bryan cast over made Remus nod unconsciously. Indeed, this exnation seemed more in line with what they knew of Bryan''s character.

    Sirius, who had been quiet for some time, finally spoke up. His voice was thoughtful, tinged with a hint of excitement that he couldn''t quite suppress. "I must admit, being an Auror does seem quite interesting¡ª" he began, his expression pensive. "But what does this have to do with my goals? I mean, I want to look after Harry and contribute positively to the fight against Voldemort, but being an Auror doesn''t seem rted to that, does it?"

    "This is where my judgments and idease in¡ª" Bryan put down his teacup, interlocking his fingers on the table. His deep gaze revealed no thoughts. Remus''s expression flickered momentarily, and he unconsciously straightened his posture.

    "On the night of the World Cup final, after Cliodna escaped from me and the chaos gradually subsided, Fudge didn''t stay at the scene to direct the rescue orfort the public. He returned to the Ministry immediately and urgently summoned Headmaster Dumbledore to meet him."

    Bryan spoke in an impassive tone, "What do you think Fudge was thinking at that time?"

    "What?" Sirius asked reflexively.

    Bryan''s lips curved into a slight smile, though it didn''t reach his eyes. "Fudge asked Dumbledore if there was any way to keep me at Hogwarts forever. To put it in simpler terms, he wanted Headmaster Dumbledore to imprison me at Hogwarts¡ª"

    "He dared to make such a request!" Sirius''s eyes widened, angrily pping the armrest. Remus likewise tensed his face, his lips curled in an almost imperceptible sneer.

    Bryan observed their reactions with a calm demeanor, as if he had expected this.

    "Heh, it''s not surprising. The power I disyed that night hadpletely exceeded the Ministry''s control. Fudge knew well that he had no means to restrain someone like me. Moreover, he anticipated that if I wanted to seize power, taking advantage of this incident, even if I couldn''t be Minister for Magic, it wouldn''t be difficult to make him step down. So, even though the Ministry''s credibility was on the brink of copse at that time, his first consideration was still to guard against me. He''s wary of Dumbledore certainly, but inparison, he seems to think I''m more dangerous than Dumbledore¡ª"

    Seeing that Sirius and Remus were listening with rapt attention, Bryan pressed on, his voice taking on a more somber note. "If in the future, the Wizarding world falls into war because of Voldemort''s return, I believe that under the leadership of a narrow-minded minister like Cornelius Fudge, the Ministry of Magic will do nothing but hinder Dumbledore."

    He paused, his gaze flicking between the two men before him. "Headmaster Dumbledore knows this too, but because of his own ''noble character'', he doesn''t want to interfere excessively with the Ministry. I, on the other hand, hope that by that time, the Ministry will be able to listen to some rational advice appropriately."

    Sirius, his mind grasping the essence of Bryan''s n, blurted out, "You want me to be an Auror and have some influence in the Auror Office, is that right, Bryan?"

    Bryan''s smile was both confirmation and approval. "That''s correct¡ª" he said, his tone lighter now. "The Auror Office is a crucial department. It''s the front line in the fight against dark wizards. Having someone we trust in a position of influence there could make all the difference when the timees."

    "Scrimgeour won''t easily give up his position, Bryan, And if Sirius just bes an Auror, it won''t have much effect. He''d be just another voice, easily ignored or overruled." Remus, with his calm nature, directly grasped the core of the problem.

    Bryan nodded, acknowledging the validity of Remus''s concern. He knew very well that Rufus Scrimgeour, the current Head of the Auror Office, was not a man to be easily swayed, especially by him.

    "There will always be a way," Bryan said cryptically, unwilling to reveal too much of his long-term strategy. Political struggles, he knew, were the same in any world ¨Cplex, unpredictable, and often won or lost based on information and timing. To show all his cards now would be premature and potentially dangerous.

    After some further exnation, Sirius began to understand the full scope of Bryan''s calctions but, he was still hesitant. To be honest, he had never seriously considered bing a Ministry official like Arthur. And now, Bryan seemed to hope he could be not just an Auror, but potentially the Head of the Auror Office. This was a major decision, one that would alter the course of his life dramatically. Even the normally resolute Sirius couldn''t make up his mind immediately.

    Bryan, sensing Sirius''s hesitation, did not press for an immediate decision. Instead, he turned his prating gaze to Remus, while Sirius was deep in thought.

    "Regarding you, Remus," Bryan began, his tone softening slightly but losing none of its intensity, "you hope to stay in Hogsmeade so you can quicklye to Harry''s aid if any danger arises. But frankly, there''s no need for that. If Harry encounters a danger that neither I nor Headmaster Dumbledore have foreseen, then you probably won''t be able to help either¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0456 For Remus

    0456 For Remus

    "Yes, I understand¡ª" Remus said calmly, his voice steady andposed. He showed no sign of surprise or offense at Bryan''s blunt words. Years of facing discrimination and hardship had given Remus a thick skin and a pragmatic outlook on life.

    Remus had indeed spent many sleepless nights considering these very issues. With Albus and Bryan at Hogwarts, it would be difficult for any sinister plots to reach Harry. The castle''s formidable magical protections,bined with the watchful eyes of two such powerful wizards, formed a near-imprable shield around Harry. However, this realization didn''t mean Remus was content to stand idly by, twiddling his thumbs while others took on the burden of protecting Harry.

    His mind drifted back to happier times, to the close-knit group of friends who had made his years at Hogwarts bearable, even joyful, despite his condition. Of those Marauders who had once roamed the halls of the castle with their pranks andughter, only he and Sirius remained alive and free. And Harry, James and Lily''s child, was the only descendant they had left, thest living legacy of the Potters. Remus desperately wanted to do something for him, to protect thisst link to his departed friends.

    "The Ministry of Magic has issued a statement iming that the group who attacked the World Cup was just a bunch of foreign dark wizards. A convenient exnation, neatly packaged to avoid panic and maintain their illusion of control. You and Albus have remained silent on this matter."

    Remus paused, his gaze intensifying as he looked between Bryan and Sirius. "But Sirius and I both know, Bryan, that Harry''s dream has already revealed far more than the Ministry''s sanitized version of events."

    Meeting Bryan''s gaze, Remus continued calmly, "He''s nning to harm Harry, Bryan and he has already taken action. Although you thwarted this attempt, we can''t assume the danger has passed for forever. The next attempt coulde as soon as tomorrow. In any case, he''ll try every possible way to kill Harry and continue his cruel reign. This isn''t just about power or control for Voldemort. Harry''s existence is a living reminder of his greatest defeat."

    Remus''s voice took on a note of determination. "I can''t just do nothing knowing all this. By staying in Hogsmeade, I can at least keep an eye on some things."

    Bryan listened intently. He could see that Remus had his own ideas and was fully capable of acting on his own will. His loyalty and determination were admirable. However, Bryan hoped that Remus''s actions could be channeled in a way that would make them more valuable and impactful.

    "Your n to set up shop in Hogsmeade using those joke products developed by those two mischievousds, I believe - is not without merit," Bryan began, his tone thoughtful. "Keeping an eye on the goings-on around Hogwarts while being ready to support yourself and maintain a living is a practical approach. That''s perfectly fine, Remus. In fact, I can put in a word with some people at the Ministry to help your shop get up and running quickly, smoothing over any... bureaucratic hurdles that might arise due to your condition."

    Bryan''s eyes flickered briefly to the window, where the Scottish rain continued to fall in a steady drizzle, before returning to Remus. "But this passive waiting can only achieve so much. It leaves you always one step behind, always responding to threats rather than preventing them."

    He paused, his gaze intensifying. "I have some ideas that need someone to execute, and after careful consideration, I believe you''re a suitable candidate. Perhaps the only suitable candidate."

    Bryan continued calmly. "Of course, you can refuse, Remus. Apart from Filch, I have no right to give orders to anyone at Hogwarts or beyond its walls. This is a request, not amand."

    Remus was silent for a long moment, his mind racing. He could sense that what Bryan was about to say could be extremely important, potentially ying a crucial role in the future. People like Bryan or Albus possessed wisdom and power beyond theprehension of ordinary individuals.

    "If you''re hoping I could join some department in the Ministry, I don''t think that''s very likely¡ª" Remus said softly after a moment''s hesitation, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.

    "Of course, it''s not that¡ª" Bryan said, pursing his lips slightly. His expression was thoughtful, as if he was carefully considering how much to reveal. "This matter is ratherplex and needs to be executed in multiple stages. For now, we''re looking at just the first step. I hope you can spend some time helping me conduct... market research."

    "Market research?" Remus immediately raised his eyebrows, surprise evident in his voice. The term seemed so mundane, so far removed from the grave matter of the impending war they had been discussing. On the other side of the room, Sirius, who had been pondering whether to join the Ministry as an Auror, also looked up sharply, his gray eyes wide as he stared at Bryan in disbelief.

    "You heard correctly, it''s market research¡ª" Bryan nodded, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes at their reactions. He didn''t beat around the bush any longer, sensing their confusion. "I hope you can spend some time conducting a rather thorough market research on some daily necessities that all magical residents can''t do without."

    Bryan''s voice took on a more serious tone as he continued, "After this initial step ispleted, you''ll need to dig deeper. I want you to find out exactly whichpanies and workshops are producing these items, as well as the actual controlling parties behind thesepanies and workshops."

    Sirius and Remus exchanged nces, both clearly unsure of what Bryan was nning.

    "But what does this have to do with fighting Voldemort?" While Remus was still pondering the deeper meaning behind Bryan''s proposal, trying to connect the dots between market research and theing War, the impulsive Sirius blurted out the question that was on both their minds.

    However, this time Bryan''s response was frustratingly vague. He didn''t give a clear answer, only saying mildly, "You''ve been through the war years, Sirius. I''m sure you understand that war and dueling arepletely different beasts. A duel is just a contest between two individuals. But war... war is an all-out confrontation. It exists in many forms, and armed conflict is just one of them."

    Not only was Sirius visibly confused by this cryptic response, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to decipher Bryan''s meaning, but even the usually perceptive Remus couldn''t fully grasp what Bryan was trying to express.

    The Wizarding world''s social system was rtively primitivepared to the Muggle world, still operating in many ways like a medieval society with magic. He didn''t expect Remus and Sirius, who had grown up in the wizarding world and paid little attention to Muggle society and itsplex economic systems, to immediately understand his intentions. But this step was necessary, a crucial foundation for the ns he was weaving. If Remus wasn''t willing to do it, he would have to do it himself.

    "Investigating the actual controlling parties behind thepanies and workshops that produce daily necessities for the magical poption shouldn''t be too dangerous," Bryan said, his tone reassuring. "But it requires being well-informed and flexible in approach. Remus, I believe you have this ability."

    Remus opened his mouth but didn''t speak immediately.

    Indeed, as a werewolf fighting for survival in a world that often viewed him with fear and disgust, he had been struggling in the Wizarding world for over a decade, encountering all sorts of people from every walk of life. In many ways, he was indeed more suitable for this task than Sirius, who had spent ten long years in the istion of Azkaban, cut off from the everyday workings of wizarding society. However¡­

    "You think this is important, Bryan?" Remus asked, his brow furrowed in concentration.

    Bryan''s response was measured, his words carefully chosen. "In dealing with Voldemort, Dumbledore has his own set of ns, and I, too, have my ideas. What I just told you, this market research, is a very important part of my n."

    As he had mentioned earlier, his n needed to be executed in many stages, each building upon thest. What he currently wanted Remus to execute was only the most basic part, the gathering of crucial information. The subsequent tasks would be even moreplex, potentially even shaking the very stability and foundations of the Wizarding world.

    This was also part of the reason why Bryan had chosen to forgive Lucius Malfoy, even though he knew from Kakus Fawley that the masked wizards who caused chaos on the night of the Quidditch World Cup final were brought in by Lucius Malfoy. Bryan''s long-term n would require the assistance, willing or unwitting, of influential families like the Malfoys at some point.

    As Bryan finished speaking, the room fell into a contemtive silence. The dull sound of raindrops hitting the window panes created a soothing pitter-patter noise. A chill gradually seeped up from the rain-soaked ground, causing Remus, who was deep in thought and physically weak after his recent painful transformation, to feel some difort.

    Interrupting his contemtion, Remus wrapped his worn robe tighter around himself. He reached for the teapot on the table, its contents still steaming slightly, and poured himself a cup of hot water, cradling it in his hands to absorb its warmth.

    <strong>Snap¡ª</strong>

    The sudden sound made both Remus and Sirius twitch slightly. Bryan had stood up and snapped his fingers. The previously extinguished firece suddenly burst into vigorous mes, crackling merrily as if it had been burning for hours. The magical fire quickly began to dry the damp air, immediately infusing the room with a cozy warmth that seemed to chase away not just the physical chill, but some of the heaviness that had settled over their conversation.

    "You two can think it over carefully. You don''t need to give me an answer right away¡ª"

    Bryan didn''t sit down again. Instead, he walked straight to the firece. He reached for a bag sitting on the shelf above the firece, open and ready for use. From it, he grabbed a handful of glittering Floo powder, examining it thoughtfully in his palm.

    In the wizarding world, only a small portion of wizards could Apparate. For most wizarding families traveling together, especially those with young children, the options were limited. Using Floo powder was undoubtedly an important mode of transportation for wizards.

    With a practiced motion, Bryan threw the Floo powder into the firece. The mes instantly turned a brilliant emerald green. As the fire crackled and swirled, ready to transport him to his destination, Bryan turned to face Remus and Sirius onest time.

    "I won''t be staying for lunch," he said, his voice raised slightly to be heard over the roar of the magical mes. "I need to get to London and then take a carriage back to Hogwarts. There''s a pile of things waiting for me to deal with there as well. If you''ve made a decision, just send me an owl, and I''ll arrange the next steps."

    With those parting words, Bryan stepped into the firece. The emerald mes swirled around him, obscuring his form for a moment before he disappeared in a whirl of rapidly spinning fire.

    As the mes returned to their normal orange hue, Sirius let out a long breath he hadn''t realized he''d been holding. "This feels just like working for the Order of the Phoenix again¡ª" he muttered, his eyes still fixed on the firece where Bryan had vanished moments before.

    "That''s probably what Bryan is nning¡ª" Remus said slowly, running a hand through his graying hair. "He''s likely nning to form a new organization."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0457 Return

    0457 Return

    <strong>Creak¡ª</strong>

    The ancient, weathered hinges of Hogwarts'' massive wrought iron gates emitted a piercing creak that reverberated through the misty Scottish Hignds and across the dark, rippling waters of the ck Lake. Perched majestically atop a rugged cliff, the castle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stood against the gloomy, overcast sky. Its imposing stone towers and walls, adorned with countless flickering windows, were shrouded in a fine, persistent drizzle that spoke of summer''s gradual surrender to the encroaching autumn.

    Bryan made his way along the slick, moss-covered cobblestone path that looped through the campus grounds. His keen eyes, sharp despite the dampness that clung to his travel-worn robes, roamed over the familiar sights he hadn''tid eyes upon in two long months.

    As Bryan''s gaze lingered on the towering golden hoops of the Quidditch pitch, a booming voice cut through the pitter-patter of raindrops:

    "Oi! Professor Watson, yer back!"

    From the edge of the Forbidden Forest, now deep greens and shadowy browns in the gloomy weather, an enormous figure emerged from a stone hut. Hagrid lumbered across the soakedwn with surprising agility for a man of his stature. His wild, tangled beard and hair were dotted with raindrops, and his moleskin overcoat pped wildly in the gusts sweeping in from theke.

    Bryan turned at the familiar voice, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Hagrid! How wonderful to see you. How did your summer treat you?"

    "Blimey, it was brilliant, Professor! Right fulfillin'', if I do say so meself!" Hagrid eximed, his beetle-ck eyes twinkling with barely contained excitement. He closed the distance between them in a few giant strides, his massive form creating a makeshift windbreak that shielded Bryan from the wind and rain blowing in from the ck Lake.

    "Spent the whole summer creatin'' an interestin'' little creature." Hagrid continued, lowering his voice despite theck of other listeners. "Can'' wait fer the little ones ter meet ''em. Say, Professor Watson, would yeh like a sneak peek? Even Dumbledore couldn'' stop praisin'' those adorable little blighters!"

    Hagrid''s craggy face was lit with childlike anticipation, his eyes shining like polished onyx. Bryan''s lips twitched at the thought of Hagrid''stest "interesting creature."

    "I''d be delighted to meet your new... friend, Hagrid," Bryan replied diplomatically, subtly quickening his pace towards the castle. "But perhaps not at this precise moment. I''ve had quite the journey today, and I''m afraid my stomach is currently making more persuasive arguments than my curiosity. Some of Hogwarts'' famous dishes would hit the spot right about now."

    "Ah, I was just about to head to the Great Hall for dinner myself¡ª"

    Hagrid said, sounding a bit disappointed, but his mood quickly lifted again.

    "I saw about the Quidditch final in the Daily Prophet, Professor Watson. It was incredible! When I went to Hogsmeade, all the vigers were talking about it. Everyone was saying that if you hadn''t saved so many people from that dark witch, the Ministry would have surely fallen this time!"

    In Hagrid''s eyes, Bryan quelling a riot seemed far less important than the hybrid creature he had concocted.

    "I merely chased those dark wizards away from the stadium, Hagrid. It was the Ministry who tracked down these audacious fellows and sent them back to Azkaban."

    As they conversed, Bryan swiftly navigated the slippery marble steps leading into the cavernous entrance hall of Hogwarts.

    Without the young witches and wizards, the Great Hall wasn''t as grand as usual. The enchanted ceiling reflecting the night sky outside hadn''t been activated, and a thousand brightly lit candles weren''t floating in mid-air. However, the floor and the long tables against the walls had been polished spotless, apparently in preparation for the new school year.

    Bryan''s footsteps echoed in the vast space as he carefully made his way across the polished floor. His eyes were drawn to an unexpected sight: a sixteen-seat dining table ced in the center of the hall, around which most of the Hogwarts faculty and staff were already gathered. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he approached, calling out with a hint of feigned indignation:

    "I say, why wasn''t I informed of this sumptuous feast? I would have hurried back with far more swiftness had I known such a wee awaited me!"

    The table was a veritable who''s who of Hogwarts'' finest: At the head sat Dumbledore, in robes of midnight blue glittering with twinkling stars. To his right was the ever-stern Professor McGonagall, Professor Filius Flitwick, the Charms Master, was perched on top of a stack of cushions, while the caring Professor Sprout''s hat was decorated with what appeared to be a miniature Venomous Tentac.

    Professor Snape, Bryan''s former Head of House, sat with his characteristic scowl, dark eyes glittering in the candlelight. Aurora Sinistra of Astronomy, Sybill Trwney of Divination (looking as usual like an oversized, glittering insect), as well as Professors Vector, Burbage, and Babbling all were present.

    Even the support staff had been included in this gathering: Madam Pince from the library sat rigidly, as if afraid to rx for fear that a book somewhere be mishandled, while Madam Pomfrey from the hospital wing chatted animatedly with her neighbor. Most surprisingly, even Filch had managed to secure a seat, looking almost respectable in a suit that had seen better days.

    "Perhaps someone did inform you," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling with humor as he scooped out a strand of his long silver beard from a bowl of creamy mushroom soup. "But in the excitement of your recent heroics, it may have slipped your mind. Come, join us! There''s always room for one more at Hogwarts."

    Most people showed kind smiles, which was exactly what Bryan had hoped to see.

    Of course, there were exceptions. For instance, a certain Potions professor with greasy hair and a hooked nose nced sideways, his lips curled in sneer.

    "Perhaps, Headmaster, you forgot to mention the price of admission. Dining with the most celebrated wizard of our time doesn''te cheaply, after all. I''m sure Professor Watson''s autograph would fetch a tidy sum these days."

    "Oh, do be quiet, Professor," Bryan retorted good-naturedly, "A man who''s failed to secure the Defense Against the Dark Arts position after applying for fourteen consecutive years is in no position to criticize me¡ª"

    A ripple ofughter swept around the table, noticeably warmer than the polite chuckles that had greeted Snape''s jab. Even Dumbledore''s beard twitched suspiciously.

    With a wave of wands and a general shuffling of chairs, space was made for both Bryan and Hagrid ¨C thetter requiring an entire side of the table to himself. Bryan set down his travel case with a relieved sigh, hung his rain-spattered cloak on the back of his chair, and settled himself between Snape and Dumbledore.

    The table itself was a sight to behold, groaning under the weight of Hogwarts'' finest cuisine. Golden tters held mountains of roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, and crisp roast potatoes. Tureens of rich gravies and savory sauces steamed invitingly, while tters of colorful vegetables added sshes of vibrant color to the spread. At the center of it all stood an enormous, elegant candbra, its flickering mes casting a warm, intimate glow over the assembledpany.

    At Dumbledore''s gracious invitation, Bryan reached for a crystal sk of golden honey mead. As he poured himself a modest measure, the rich aroma of the wine mingled with the savory scents of the feast, instantly made his mouth water. He took an appreciative sip, feeling the smooth liquor warm him from within, seeming to wash away two months'' worth of umted tension in a single swallow.

    With a contented sigh, Bryan set down his goblet and asked lightly, "So, what exciting topics of conversation have I interrupted? Surely you haven''t spent the entire evening singing my praises?"

    "As a matter of fact, Bryan," squeaked Professor Flitwick, practically bouncing in his seat with excitement, "we were just discussing that remarkable Fiendfyre curse you used at the Quidditch World Cup final! Simply extraordinary spellwork!"

    "You''ve mispronounced the name of the spell, Filius," Snape interjected silkily, his dark eyes glittering. "It''s the ''Spirit Fire'' charm. Using actual Fiendfyre wouldnd even our esteemed colleague in Azkaban. More... clever individuals have long since identified this particr loophole."

    <em>''What! has the Ministry cordoned off the Potter cottage in Godric''s Hollow and prevented people from entering?''</em>

    Bryan red at Snape in exasperation.

    "I must say, Bryan, this iteration of the spell was quite different from the one you used in the Forbidden Forest years ago,"

    Perhaps because the two-month summer holiday had finally given her some time to recuperate, Professor McGonagall looked in fairly good spirits, even her gaunt cheeks seemed fuller. She said with her Scottish ent appearing more distinct in her enthusiasm.

    "While I regrettably couldn''t attend the match myself," Professor McGonagall continued, "the Daily Prophet published many photographs of your spell. The academicmunity has been abuzz, analyzing every detail in those photos. The editorial board of ''Today''s Transfiguration'' and I have been discussing extensively on the subject through letters. We''ve reached a consensus that there are certain elements of advanced Transfiguration in this spell.

    Only the most meticulous magical control could possibly constrain Fiendfyre ¨C oh, pardon me, Bryan ¨C ''Spirit Fire,'' such a notoriously vtile and powerful fire spell, into such a stable form and disy a marvelous dual nature, causing high-temperature damage to enemies while showing a gentle side to oneself!"

    The assembled Hogwarts staff, all outstanding figures in their respective magical fields, leaned in with rapt attention. Even those less versed inbat magic couldn''t help but be drawn into the discussion of such an impressive feat of spellcraft. Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling with undisguised interest, stroked his long beard thoughtfully before adding his own observations.

    "A truly brilliant piece of magic, Bryan," Dumbledore said with great interest. "I''ve encountered numerous wizards over the years who have sought to maximize the raw destructive potential of Fiendfyre, but you''ve charted an entirely different course in your reimagining of this spell. You prioritized stability and precise control over sheer power ¨C a choice that requires incredibly bold innovation in the theoretical configuration of this spell. Most crucially, it demands a level of mental fortitude and concentration that few wizards could hope to maintain in the heat of battle."

    The table had transformed into an impromptu seminar on advanced magical theory. Except for Filch, who looked utterly lost but seemed to be enjoying his roast beef nheless, everyone mored to offer their perspective on Bryan''s spell. Even Hagrid, between enormous mouthfuls of mashed potatoes, managed to contribute a muffled, "Looked a fair sight more powerful than any dragon''s me I''ve ever seen!"

    As the discussion of his spellwork continued persistently, Bryan found himself experiencing a curious mix of pride and mild difort at being the center of such intense scrutiny. Seeking to change the main subject of conversation, he raised his voice slightly to be heard over the excited chatter:

    "While I''m deeply ttered by your interest in my little parlor trick, perhaps we might turn our attention to the rather more significant challenge looming on our horizon? The Triwizard Tournament is no small responsibility, after all."

    "Oh, Bryan!" Madam Pomfrey eximed, her cheeks flushed from several sses of wine. She hupped softly before continuing, her words slightly slurred. "For two consecutive school years, you''ve sent dozens of young witches and wizards to my hospital wing en masse. I implore you ¨C please, for the love of Merlin, don''t let it happen again this year! I don''t want to lose face in front of the foreigners!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0458 Busyness Begins

    0458 Busyness Begins

    The pre-term faculty dinner at Hogwarts proceeded in a very harmonious and warm atmosphere. Bryan, despite his best efforts to maintain his usualposure, found himself caught up in the pleasant mood. Even the normally scowl faced Snape seemed to have rxed slightly.

    Everyone, including Bryan, had indulged in a fair amount of drink.

    "My dears," Professor Trwney slurred, "the Inner Eye sees... it sees... oh my, is the room spinning, or is it just me?"

    With that, the entric professor toppled sideways off her chair, bing the first person of the new academic year to require Madam Pomfrey''s professional attention. And Madam Pomfrey who had wisely refrained from overindulging, quickly sprang into action.

    "Really, Sybill," She tutted in exasperation as she helped the drunk Trwney to her feet. "One might think you''d have foreseen this particr future."

    Madam Pince hurried over to assist, her usual severe expression softened by concern for her colleague. Together, the two witches supported Trwney between them, guiding her unsteady steps towards the grand doors of the Great Hall.

    "Come along now, Sybill," Madam Pince''s voice echoed in the hall. "A good Sobering Solution and a lie-down is what you need. You''ll be right as rain in time for the students'' arrival."

    As the trio made their slightly awkward exit, the remaining staff members exchanged amused nces. Professor Flitwick''s tiny form shook with suppressed giggles, while Hagrid''s boomingugh echoed off the unenchanted ceiling.

    In the midst of this good-natured chaos, Bryan''s gaze was drawn to Professor Snape. Their eyes met for a while and it was clear that Snape wished to speak with Bryan privately.

    Bryan nodded almost imperceptibly. However, before he could make a move to leave from the gathering, he felt a firm hand grasp his elbow. Turning, he found himself face-to-face with Professor McGonagall, her square spectacles glinting in the candlelight.

    Professor McGonagall had undergone a remarkable transformation. The warmth and friendliness that had softened her features throughout the evening had vanished, reced by the stern, no-nonsense demeanor. It was clear that, despite thete hour and the wine consumed, Professor McGonagall had shifted firmly into work mode.

    "A word, if you please, Professor Watson," She said, her Scottish ent more pronounced than usual. Without waiting for a response, she began steering Bryan towards the exit, her grip on his arm brooking no argument.

    From his seat at the head of the table, Dumbledore watched this interaction with twinkling eyes, a knowing smile hidden behind his impressive silver beard. He raised his goblet in a silent toast as Bryan threw a helpless nce over his shoulder, clearly realizing that whatever Professor McGonagall had in mind was not to be avoided.

    As they climbed the grand staircase, Professor McGonagall maintained her resolute silence. Portraits lining the walls whispered and pointed as the two professors passed, clearly intrigued by thiste-night procession. Sir Cadogan, the manic knight, attempted to challenge Bryan to a duel from his frame, but a stern look from Professor McGonagall sent him scurrying behind his pony.

    Finally, as they reached the corridor leading to Professor McGonagall''s office, she broke her silence with an exasperated exmation:

    "Only you, Bryan! Only you could manage this!"

    Recognizing the signs of an impending lecture, Bryan adopted his most apologetic expression. Bryan obediently perched himself on a three-legged stool facing Professor McGonagall''s imposing desk, his posture unconsciously mimicking that of a first-year student called in for a scolding. Theparison wasn''t entirely inurate, given the look she was giving him.

    The cool night air wafting through the newly opened window did little to dispel the flush of wine from their cheeks. Professor McGonagall busied herself with preparing tea, her wand flicking with practiced ease as she simultaneously stoked the fire in the hearth.

    "Professor Vector," Professor McGonagall began, her voice stiff with barely contained frustration, "returned to Hogwarts a full ten days ago and even Professor Dumbledore hasn''t left the castle for the past three days. And yet you, Bryan ¨C you, with the mountain of work awaiting your attention ¨C have only just returned now!"

    "I had many things to handle--" Bryan mumbled, pursing his lips, but was immediately silenced by Professor McGonagall''s stern look.

    The desk before them was a testament to the workload facing the Hogwarts staff in preparation for the new term. Stacks of parchment wobbled precariously, each pile representing a different aspect of the school''s administration. Schedules, student records, curriculum ns, and correspondence from the Ministry of Magic vied for space amidst a clutter of quills, ink pots, and half-empty cups of tea.

    With a flick of her wand, Professor McGonagall summoned two steaming cups of tea from the sideboard. She handed one to Bryan before settling into her high-backed chair. For a moment, she simply sipped her tea, allowing the tension in the room to build.

    Finally, she set down her cup with a decisive clink and reached for a particrly imposing stack of documents. With a grunt of effort, she hefted the pile ¨C easily several feet thick ¨C and deposited it in front of Bryan with a resounding thud.

    "This," she said her tone brooking no argument, "is about the Triwizard Tournament."

    Bryan''s eyebrows rose involuntarily at the sheer volume of paperwork before him.

    "The specific events of the Tournament are, of course, ssified at the highest level. Only a select few within the Ministry are privy to those details at present. However," she tapped the stack of parchments meaningfully, "they''ve forwarded us aprehensive list of materials required for constructing the event venues. We''re to have everything prepared well in advance of the first task."

    Bryan''s brow furrowed as he skimmed through the topmost pages. "Surely this falls under Hagrid?" he said unhappily, smacking his lips. "Ground preparation, venue construction ¨C it seems more suited to his expertise."

    McGonagall''s expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Under normal circumstances, you''d be correct. However, we find ourselves in a rather... delicate financial situation."

    She leaned forward, her voice dropping lower. "Hogwarts'' annual budget is allocated directly by the Board of Governors. Any unexpected expenses ¨C such as those incurred by hosting an international magical tournament ¨C require a separate application process. The report and itemized list are here," she gestured to the intimidating stack, "and I''ve already attached my signature. Now we need you and Dumbledore to sign. Please, do me a favor and finish this tonight!"

    Professor McGonagall''s face was tense, her lips pressed tightly together.

    As he looked at the mountain of paperwork before him, Bryan suddenly felt a toothacheing on. However, a thought seemed to cross his mind, and without muchint, he acquiesced, his tone more agreeable than McGonagall had anticipated. "Very well, I promise toplete this as soon as possible. I''ll find Headmaster Dumbledore for his signature as soon as we''re finished here."

    Professor McGonagall''s rigid posture rxed slightly at Bryan''s cooperative response. She took another sip of tea before broaching the next topic, her tone noticeably gentler.

    "Now, there''s the matter of your physical education ss, Bryan. It''s not just my opinion, but a general consensus among the faculty that your current schedule requires some... adjustment."

    Bryan''s brow furrowed. "What seems to be the issue?"

    "I don''t object to you having the children spend some time on the field every day, Bryan. It''s good for them. But regarding the sses after dinner every other day, many professors have voiced concerns to me. They believe the timing is unreasonable because that''s when young witches and wizards mainly handle their homework and prepare for uing lessons. To make up for this lost time, the students either have to stay upte or rush through their assignments."

    Bryan nodded slowly, considering her words. "I''ve considered whether to add this course as an elective for third years and above but the curriculum is still in its experimental stages. I''m hesitant to expand it too broadly until we''ve refined the teaching methods."

    His frown deepened as he thought aloud. "If evenings are out of the question, perhaps weekends¡ª"

    "Absolutely not," Professor McGonagall interjected firmly. "Weekend time belongs to the students. It''s their opportunity to rest, socialize, and pursue personal interests. We make it a policy not to encroach on that time with formal sses."

    "Then what do you suggest?" Bryan threw the troublesome question back to Professor McGonagall.

    Professor McGonagall''s expression softened slightly. It was clear she had given this matter considerable thought.

    "My suggestion is still to schedule it on school days--" Professor McGonagall seemed to have considered this issue before and spoke directly. "Since you don''t intend to incorporate the course into Hogwarts'' curriculum for now, it means the participating students are fixed. I''ve noticed they''re mostly fourth-years. You can choose a time slot that suits the majority of fourth and fifth-year students. As for the older students who''ve passed their O.W.L.s, their schedules are rtively flexible. And if absolutely necessary, we could retain one evening session."

    Bryan nodded slowly, though his expression remained troubled. Coordinating such a schedule would be daunting. He''d need to review every participating student''s timetable, identify potential conflicts, and then negotiate with their Heads of Houses and individual professors to resolve any shes.

    "There''s... one more matter we need to discuss, Bryan," Looking at Bryan who was having a headache about arranging the ss time, Professor McGonagall''s solemn expression suddenly became a little unnatural, "It''s about the safety n you submitted to the International Confederation of Wizards. Specifically, the proposed ss arrangements for our guests from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang during their stay at Hogwarts."

    "What about it?" Bryan''s attention snapped back to the present, his eyebrow arching quizzically at Professor McGonagall''s suddenly evasive manner. "Is there a problem with the n?"

    "Oh, it''s not exactly a problem--" Professor McGonagall took a deep breath, her tone slightly reproachful. "It''s just... well, it''s a rare opportunity, isn''t it? I mean, for our students to interact with their peers from other magical traditions. But your current arrangement has the Durmstrang students attending sses with Slytherin, and the Beauxbatons students with Ravenw."

    She paused, her lips pressing into a thin line before she continued, "As Head of Gryffindor House, Bryan, I feel obligated to advocate for my students. They deserve an equal chance to benefit from this valuable cultural exchange."

    Bryan barely suppressed a groan as he registered the implicit usation in Professor McGonagall''s words. He hadn''t assigned the visiting students to Slytherin and Ravenw out of any sense of favoritism, but he could see how it might be perceived that way.

    "I assure you, Professor McGonagall," he began, rubbing his forehead wearily, "I had no intention of depriving Gryffindor or Hufflepuff students of this opportunity. My primary consideration in drafting the n was the well-being of our guests. They''re traveling a great distance to experience a radically different educational approach. I felt they would benefit most from a... shall we say, a more serene learning environment."

    He trailed off, trusting that McGonagall would read between the lines.

    It was no secret that Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students tended to be more boisterous and sociable. While these were admirable qualities in many respects, they might prove distracting for students trying to adapt to an unfamiliar academic setting. There was also the not-insignificant matter of how such distractions might impact the visitors'' exam performance ¨C a diplomatic incident Bryan was keen to avoid.

    Professor McGonagall''s brow furrowed as she pondered Bryan''s exnation. After a moment of contemtion, she gave a reluctant nod. " Well, I admit your consideration is reasonable--" she admitted, though her tone suggested she wasn''t entirely satisfied with the oue.

    Their discussion wandered through various other topics rted to the uing term and the looming tournament. The candles in Professor McGonagall''s office burned lower, casting elongated shadows across the room as the night deepened. Finally, after what felt like hours, Bryan rose from his seat, his joints protesting the movement after so long in one position.

    With a casual flick of his wand, Bryan vanished the towering stack of documents from Professor McGonagall''s desk. "I''ll review these thoroughly in my office," he assured her, suppressing a yawn. "You''ll have them back, signed and annotated, by morning."

    Stepping out into the corridor, Bryan found himself at a crossroads, both literally and figuratively. To his lefty the path to Dumbledore''s office, to his right, the dungeons where Professor Snape''s private quarters were located. He stood for a moment, weighing his options.

    "Hmm," he thought aloud, his voice echoing slightly in the empty hallway. "Dumbledore''s always been a night owl. I''d better check in with Professor Snape first--"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0459 Ideas

    0459 Ideas

    Slytherin House''s Head of House and Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had his office in the dungeons. Perhaps it was due to the constant dampness and darkness, but there was always a faint, musty smell lingering in the air. Coupled with the various potion ingredients and nt materials stored there, it was not a ce most people would find pleasant.

    <strong>Achoo¡ª</strong>

    Standing outside the office, Bryan was immediately hit by the odor seeping through the crack in the door, causing him to sneeze. He rubbed his nose and muttered a few words of discontent before bypassing the formality of knocking. Instead, he used magic to remove the protective wards guarding the office.

    An eerie, greenish light seeped out from behind the now-open door. It emanated from a collection of jars filled with preserved nt and animal specimens, lining the wall. Snape turned his head, his face expressionless, and cast a cold nce at Bryan.

    "I must say, I preferred your manners when you were a student at Hogwarts, Bryan," Snape said in his trademark icy tone. "You were much more polite back then."

    "It was a necessity back then, Professor," Bryan replied calmly without flinching, slipping his wand back into the folds of his robes. "I''m not particrly fond of formalities these days."

    Snape''s lips curled into a mocking snort as he returned his attention to the task at hand, grinding lionfish spines into a fine powder over a shallow basin on his desk. It was clear from the man''s brief demeanor that he was not in the most amiable of moods.

    Undeterred, Bryan chuckled lightly and strolled past Snape, entering the smaller adjoining room where the school''s rarest and most expensive potion ingredients were stored. Familiar with the space from his own student days, he began to inspect the meticulously organized shelves with open fascination.

    "Hmm, a new shipment, I see," he murmured, plucking a small ss vial from the midst of a particrly well-stocked crate. Holding it up to the eerie green light, he examined the contents closely. "Ah, gillyweed ¨C and in such perfect condition! This must havee directly from its natural habitat, not one of those dreadful wizard-bred varieties grown in bathtubs. This is worth a small fortune!"

    "Put it down, Bryan," Snape said coldly, not even bothering to nce over his shoulder. "That is reserved for my seventh-year students preparing for their N.E.W.T.s."

    "Of course, of course," Bryan acquiesced, carefully returning the vial to its ce. His gaze continued to rove the shelves, taking in the dizzying collection of exotic ingredients before his attention was drawn to Snape''s movements.

    Professor Snape had finished grinding the lionfish spines and was now standing at the sink, meticulously washing his hands.

    When Snape returned to his desk, he found Bryan wandering back into the main office and picking up a bottle of Invigoration Draught. Without waiting for permission, he uncorked the stopper and took arge sip, smacking his lips in satisfaction.

    Snape''s thin lips twitched at the casual disregard for his personal stores, but after taking a deep breath he managed to suppress the urge to throw Bryan out of his office. Instead, he stared at Bryan with a prating gaze, his voice deceptively calm as he asked a seemingly unrted question.

    "What''s the deal with that woman?"

    "Which woman are you referring to, Professor?" Bryan arched an eyebrow, an amused glint in his eye. "I know quite a fewdies¡ª"

    "The one who brought you such ''notoriety'' that you even outshone our beloved Headmaster for a time," Snape replied calmly, ignoring Bryan''s attempt at humor. "The papers say she''s a dark witch from Albania, and that you once tried to put her in prison, but she escaped. Lately, finding the truth in the Daily Prophet is harder than getting a straight answer from that fugitive''s godson."

    It took Bryan a few seconds to realize who that "fugitive''s godson" referred to. He chuckled, but rather than answer the question directly, he countered with one of his own.

    "Didn''t you ask Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    "Dumbledore says he knows nothing," Snape said, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied Bryan''s face. "He told me only you can answer this question."

    "Some of what the Daily Prophet reported came from me and is true." Bryan admitted, meeting Snape''s probing gaze calmly. "I did try to capture her, and yes, she did manage to slip away. But that incident didn''t take ce in Albania, as they imed."

    He paused, a faint smile appearing across his lips. "As for the nature of the grudge between us, well, that''s my little secret, Professor."

    Snape''s posture stiffened at Bryan''s words.

    There was only one reason why Professor Snape would pay attention to Cliodna, and his next words confirmed Bryan''s suspicions.

    "That woman serves the Dark Lord, doesn''t she?" Snape pressed on, his voice tinged with barely concealed rm.

    "Why would you think that?" Bryan''s lips curled slightly as he looked into Snape''s eyes, trying to discern whaty hidden in the dark depths. But the emotions there were shrouded in mist, making it impossible to read. "Did Dumbledore tell you something?"

    Bryan had initially thought Dumbledore might have mentioned how Cliodna had appeared first in Harry''s box that night, making a big show of trying to take Harry away, leading Snape to suspect something. However, judging from the fact that Professor Snape subconsciously pulled his sleeves down after hearing his question, it should not be the case.

    "Did the Mark react that night?" Bryan asked quietly, his eyes briefly flicking towards Snape''s covered forearm.

    Snape''s body stiffened for a moment, instinctively wanting to avoid the topic. For reasons unknown even to himself, he was reluctant to discuss the Dark Mark on his arm with Bryan. But eventually, he overcame this hesitation. With a barely perceptible nod, his tone turned grim.

    "I had just Apparated back to my doorstep that night when the Mark red up more violently than it had in thest ten years. For a moment, I thought the Dark Lord was right inside my house¡ª"

    Recalling the unease of that moment, Snape''s breathing hitched. He stared at Bryan''s calm face and continued, "After thoroughly checking my home and finding nothing amiss, I immediately went to Hogwarts to report to Dumbledore. But Minerva told me Dumbledore had just been summoned by the Minister of Magic. It wasn''t until the next day that I learned from the newspaper what had happened the night before."

    Snape''s face turned an rming shade of white.

    "Dumbledore didn''t want to say much, but the Daily Prophet practicallyid out the duel between you, that woman, and the wizard you fought with atst¡ª"

    Snape''s fists clenched tightly under his sleeves, his lips pressed into a thin line, his entire body tense.

    "I know him, Bryan. Given his current situation, there''s no way he would risk orchestrating such a pointless attack. What is he nning?"

    Sirius, Remus, and even Severus¡ªall of them were elites in the British wizarding world, yet just the hint of a shift in the wind had unsettled them. It was clear how much they had suffered under Voldemort''s regime and Dumbledore''s reluctance to share more with Snape and others likely stemmed from his understanding that they needed time toe to terms with the growing tension.

    "The witch I dueled at the Quidditch World Cup is indeed a new ally of the Dark Lord," Bryan said, his tone somber. "I''m not sure what led them to join forces, but it''s certainly not his charisma. As for the masked Dark Wizards who first appeared after the match, they were just brought in by a fool to cause chaos. But Cliodna ¨C she was there to kidnap Harry."

    Snape''splexion paled further, This was news to him.

    "¡ªFrom what I can gather, the n to kidnap Harry during the Quidditch final wasn''t the Voldemort''s idea. He only risked showing himself in the crowd to save his newly recruited, hard-earned assistant from me¡ª"

    As Bryan took his leave of the dungeons, Snape remained rooted to the spot, a haunted expression etched upon his features. He was beginning to realize that the Dark Lord was willing to stop at nothing to return to the public eye, forcing Snape to confront the ghosts of his past that he had tried so desperately to bury for years.

    The night had deepened, and a torrential downpour nowshed against the windows of Hogwarts, the howling wind making the ancient castle feel as if it were sinking into the abyss, with nothing visible outside.

    In his dimly lit office, Dumbledore sat behind his desk, dressed in a flowing nightgown and engrossed in the pages of a thick book. Apart from him, the previous headmasters in their portraits on the wall and Fawkes on his golden perch were all soundly asleep.

    Dumbledore''s calm demeanor did not seem to be disturbed by Bryan''s sudden arrival though a trace of helplessness appeared on his wrinkled face when Bryan unceremoniously tossed a stack of documents onto the desk. However, when Bryan spoke his first sentence, Dumbledore''s expression morphed from one of helplessness to one of sheer astonishment.

    "Have you ever considered making Hogwarts independent, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

    The warm andfortable atmosphere in the circr office changed after Bryan''s seemingly unintentional words, and became somewhat tense. Even the Sorting Hat, which had been diligentlyposing a song for the next evening''s Sorting Ceremony from its perch on the shelf behind Dumbledore''s chair, paused, its brim no longer swaying and a crack near the hat''s edge, resembling a mouth, slowly opened.

    Dumbledore, masking his surprise behind aposed expression, closed the book he had been reading. His piercing blue eyes, behind half-moon spectacles, bore into Bryan with a gaze as deep and heavy as the ocean, though his voice remained gentle.

    "Making Hogwarts independent... That''s an interesting thought, Bryan. When did you firste up with this¡ª"

    "Don''t get me wrong, Headmaster¡ª"

    Bryan remained at ease despite Dumbledore''s weighty gaze. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled slightly.

    "I''m not suggesting that Hogwarts should be a second Ministry of Magic, vying for power with Cornelius Fudge''s administration, and eventually rece them."

    "What, then, do you mean?"

    Dumbledore''s gaze didn''t waver.

    "The only way for Hogwarts to be free from the Ministry''s jurisdiction is if Hogwarts <strong>*is*</strong> the Ministry. Failing to see that would be foolish. What I''m saying is¡ª" Bryan''s eyes pointed to the stack of documents on Dumbledore''s desk as he spoke calmly. "I do believe that having a Board of Governors overseeing Hogwarts is somewhat unnecessary."

    A sudden silence fell over the room. The oppressive intensity of Dumbledore''s gaze vanished as he took off his sses and leaned back in his chair like Bryan, rubbing his brow gently.

    In his sleep, Fawkes emitted a melodious, unconscious warble, while Phineas Nigellus ck, Sirius ck''s great-great-grandfather and former Headmaster of Hogwarts, slyly opened one eye, casting a look of admiration toward Bryan before quickly pretending to be asleep again.

    As Dumbledore looked at the young face across the desk, a face far moreposed than most of his age but still vibrant with youthful energypared to his own, his lips twitched slightly.

    "You didn''te up with this idea just to get rid of these tedious application processes, did you, Bryan?"

    "To be honest, a considerable part of the reason is because of this--" Bryan chuckled, his voice light and cheerful.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0460 Independence

    0460 Independence

    "You didn''te up with this idea just to get rid of these tedious application processes, did you, Bryan?"

    "To be honest, a considerable part of the reason is because of this--" Bryan chuckled, his voice light and cheerful.

    Dumbledore shook his head. "I''m relieved that you don''t intend to turn Hogwarts into another Ministry of Magic, Bryan. But even with your current intentions, this would still be a significant upheaval¡ª"

    "I just think that Hogwarts doesn''t need a Board of Governors hanging over it¡ª"

    The moment of light-heartedness passed, and Bryan''s demeanor grew more serious. Suddenly, he raised a hand and beckoned with his finger. A thick book, thicker than any other on the shelves lining one wall of the circr office, wriggled slightly before floating off the shelf andnding on the desk.

    <strong>*Hogwarts: A History*.</strong>

    Dumbledore''s gaze fell upon it, and in that instant, he understood what Bryan intended to say.

    "When the four great founders first established this school, Hogwarts didn''t have a Board of Governors. It was only after they passed away, several centuriester, that the school faced difficulties¡ªHogwarts was nearly forced to close down.

    To ensure the school''s survival, the Headmaster at the time decided to ept financial support from some of the most prominent pure-blood families in the wizarding world at that time. In exchange, Hogwarts established the Board of Governors, requiring their approval for major decisions regarding the school''s daily operations and staff appointments."

    Bryan tapped the hard cover of the book with his finger, raising an eyebrow.

    "Last year, Hogwarts was shrouded in fear due to the Chamber of Secrets incident, with rumors circting that the school might close because of it. The Board of Governors didn''t offer any help; instead, they became Lucius Malfoy''s aplices in trying to remove you from the school. In fact, this wasn''t an isted incident. In the hundreds of years since the board of directors existed, they have been doing more harm than good to the school. "

    "History is a valuable asset," Dumbledore said with a smile, "but not many wizards are able to see it that way¡ª"

    "I understand your point, Headmaster¡ª"

    Discussing this matter inevitably brought up an unavoidable topic¡ª<strong>money.</strong>

    Hogwarts doesn''t charge any fees from its students, and even if it did, the ie wouldn''t be sufficient.

    The sries of the professors, the food and drink for hundreds of young wizards throughout the year, the daily supplies for various courses, the regr maintenance and repairs of the school, and financial aid for students in need, etc¡ªHogwarts consumes at least tens of thousands of Galleons each year. Without the financial backing of the powerful Board of Governors, it can be said that the school wouldn''t be able to operate for even a single day.

    Bryan''s n to abolish the Board of Governors would first face the challenge of how to fill the financial gap left by their departure. He would need to find a way to provide Hogwarts with at least tens of thousands of Galleons annually. This isn''t a problem that personal wealth can solve. Either Bryan would have to convince the Ministry of Magic to allocate special funds for education every year, or he would have to create a business that could continuously fund Hogwarts.

    And neither of these two solutions is easy to achieve.

    "But this is something we must do. Have you considered the implications, Headmaster? The current members of the Board of Governors mostlye from the Sacred Twenty-Eight, many of whom are of questionable character. If we find ourselves in a war, and they withdraw their support from Hogwarts, what situation would the school be in then?"

    Dumbledore understood Bryan''s desire to abolish the Board of Governors. Given the current circumstances, it was almost certain that once Dumbledore stepped down as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Bryan would be his sessor, assuming he was willing to take the position.

    And Bryan, naturally, would not want a Board of Governors looming over him.

    However, Dumbledore hadn''t anticipated that Bryan would consider the issue from such perspective.

    "That''s an unexpected viewpoint, Bryan. Though, knowing Tom as I do, he probably wouldn''t have thought of this brilliant idea¡ªbut¡ª"

    Dumbledore''s expression grew much more serious. He nodded thoughtfully.

    "This is indeed a possibility. If Hogwarts were to find itself in such a situation and the Ministry of Magic failed to provide the necessary support, the school would face a difficult predicament."

    Dumbledore''s blue eyes sparkled, indicating he was seriously contemting the issue.

    "Perhaps I should speak with Cornelius, see if it''s possible to secure¡ª"

    Dumbledore thought aloud, but halfway through his words, he shook his head slightly and stopped.

    "Seeking educational grants from the Ministry of Magic is feasible under normal circumstances. However, Headmaster, in times of war, it''s not a wise idea¡ª" Bryan said calmly.

    "First of all, you can''t be certain that Cornelius Fudge would stand with this school in every situation. And more importantly, the same group of people supports both Hogwarts''s daily operations and the Ministry''s finances, don''t they?"

    Before being driven out of the school board, the Malfoy family was the most powerful family within the board. Additionally, the Malfoy family''s numerous businesses paid the most taxes to the Ministry of Magic in the British wizarding world. To make matters worse, Lucius Malfoy was also a ''loyal'' Death Eater.

    Several seats on the Hogwarts School Board of Directors were in a simr situation, which was precisely what troubled Bryan.

    Once war broke out, Hogwarts would be a spiritual banner, but whether this banner could stand, depended on the opponent''s wishes. Of course, Bryan trusted Dumbledore''s judgment. Voldemort, who had always used the restoration of pureblood family glory as his banner, probably didn''t have such a broad vision. However, this was a life-or-death struggle, and these hidden dangers had to be eliminated at all costs.

    "What''s your solution, Bryan?" Dumbledore asked, fully aware that since Bryan hade seeking his support with this issue tonight, he likely already had an idea. When it came to umting wealth, Dumbledore knew he was certainly no match for Bryan.

    Bryan''s replied calmly. "Before we can even consider dismantling the school board, Hogwarts must establish its own economic foundation. Prior to my return here, I had a conversation with Remus. I''ve tasked him with a crucial investigation ¨C to identify the essential goods that form the backbone of daily life for ordinary witches and wizards. Moreover, I''ve asked him to trace these goods back to their source, uncovering the workshops that produce them and, most importantly, the individuals who truly control these operations."

    Dumbledore''s bushy eyebrows rose slightly as he considered the implications of this n. "I see the direction of your thinking, Bryan," he said, a slight frown creasing his forehead. "But you''re proposing to overthrow the established markets with entirely novel products, all within an extremelypressed timeframe. Even if you intend to leverage your reputation as a guarantee, I fear the it would still be difficult ¡ª"

    The warm glow of the candles seemed unable to prate the inscrutable expression that had settled over Bryan''s face. Faced with Dumbledore''s probing questions, he found himself at a crossroads, unsure whether to reveal the full scope of his strategy. If he failed to secure Dumbledore''s backing, any exposed ns would be as good as ruined.

    After a moment of internal struggle, Bryan made his decision. Dumbledore had demonstrated his trust by sharing sensitive information; it was only right that Bryan reciprocate in kind. Mutual trust, after all, was the foundation upon which their alliance against theing darkness must be built.

    "It''s aplex n," Bryan began, his tone carefully neutral even as a cold determination glinted in his eyes. The shift in his demeanor did not go unnoticed by Dumbledore, who felt a twinge of concern at what was toe.

    "Our primary objective," Bryan continued, "is to unshackle Hogwarts from external constraints. To achieve this, we must ensure that the school has its own industries and revenue streams.

    The investigation I''ve set Remus upon is designed to uncover the production methods behind goods that are integral to the daily lives of ordinary wizards. While I can''t predict with certainty who all the major yers are, it''s a foregone conclusion that our probe will ultimately affect some of the families represented on the school board."

    He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I want to make it clear that I''m not advocating for the wholesale destruction of these families and their legacies. However, there is one invible condition: they cannot align themselves with Voldemort''s cause. Should any family breach this condition, their businesses will be driven into bankruptcy, and Hogwarts will move immediately to fill the market void they leave behind. This will serve the dual purpose of establishing Hogwarts'' own financialwork while simultaneously weakening Voldemort''s potential support base."

    "A financialwork," Dumbledore repeated thoughtfully, the phrase hanging heavy in the air between them. "How do you propose to ensure its sess, Bryan? I doubt our opponents will stand idly by as Hogwarts moves to im these newly vacated markets."

    Bryan''s response was frank and direct. "We''ll need the full support of the Ministry of Magic," he stated inly. "Weck the authority to publicly dere a family''s involvement in Voldemort''s terrorist activities. Only the Ministry possesses the legal rights to make such announcements, to seize assets, and to bankrupt those found guilty of such associations. Simultaneously, they can provide the necessary protection for Hogwarts'' proxy as we enter these new markets."

    A small smile appeared at the corners of Bryan''s mouth as he added, "By the way, I believe Remus would be an excellent choice to serve as our proxy. After enduring years of financial hardship, I think it''s high time he experiences the taste of being wealthy."

    Dumbledore''s expression remained impassive, showing no reaction to Bryan''s personal ns for Remus. In the grand scheme of things ¨C a war that would determine the fate of every witch, wizard, and magical creature in Britain ¨C such details were of little consequence.

    "I have no doubt that Remus would be grateful for the opportunity you''re proposing," Dumbledore said calmly.

    "However," he continued, his tone growing more serious, "if you''re counting on Cornelius Fudge''s cooperation based solely on your help during the Greyback incident and the chaos at the Quidditch World Cup, I fear you may be overestimating the Minister''s gratitude. He''s not known for his long memory when ites to favors."

    Bryan''s response was immediate and decisive. "I understand the challenge, and I''ve made the necessary preparations,"

    Dumbledore''s piercing blue gaze studied Bryan''sposed features intently, noting the unwavering determination in the younger wizard''s eyes. He understood what Bryan''s preparation was, and also knew that Bryan had already made up his mind to do it.

    Sensing Dumbledore''s tacit approval, or at least his decision not to interfere, Bryan felt a wave of relief wash over him. He pressed on, eager toy out the full scope of his strategy.

    "The cooperation of the Ministry of Magic is absolutely crucial, Headmaster," Bryan emphasized. "As you''re well aware, when Voldemort first began amassing followers, he did so under the banner of restoring pureblood supremacy. But once he had consolidated his power, his true nature ¨C his thirst for absolute control and his utter disregard for wizarding traditions ¨C became apparent."

    Bryan leaned forward, "This gives us another path to weaken Voldemort''s support. We make it clear that anyone who dares to support him will face severe consequences. Their family businesses will be shut down, their assets frozen. We force them to choose between Voldemort''s mad dream of domination and the centuries-old legacies of their families. I''m curious to see just how many of his so-called loyal Death Eaters will stand firm when faced with financial ruin."

    As Bryan spoke, the full implications of his n began to unfold in Dumbledore''s mind. It was a strategy as brilliant as it was ruthless ¨C a double-edged sword that could sh through the Tom''s support base, but not without coteral damage as this approach would undoubtedly affect the work and lives of ordinary people in the wizarding world. Hogwarts could take over, but not entirely. Some would inevitably lose their livelihoods. Therefore, unless absolutely necessary, Bryan wouldn''t crazily expand the scope of the crackdown.

    Just as Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, a smooth, cultured voice cut through the somber atmosphere of the office. "What a remarkably ambitious n, young man," the voice drawled, a note of genuine admiration evident in its tone.

    Both Dumbledore and Bryan turned to face the source of the interruption ¨C a portrait frame housing the image of Phineas Nigellus ck, former Headmaster of Hogwarts and great-great-grandfather to Sirius ck. The painted figure stroked his pointed beard thoughtfully as he continued, "However, I''m afraid there''s one rather significant obstacle you seem to have overlooked."

    Bryan rose from his seat and offered a respectful bow to the portrait, his expression one of polite interest. He was eager to hear what this long-dead Headmaster was talking about.

    Phineas Nigellus ck''s eyes glittered with a mix of amusement and cunning as he spoke. "You see, ording to the ancient contract signed between Hogwarts and the founding families of the school board, the school is specifically forbidden from engaging in profit-making enterprises. Any unteral deration by Hogwarts to dissolve the school board would be null and void unless the school can repay everyst Knut of financial support it has received since the contract was first signed ¨C a sum that spans several centuries and is, quite frankly, beyond astronomical."

    The revtion hit Bryan like a Bludger to the chest. His brow furrowed deeply as he turned to look at Dumbledore, seeking confirmation. The old Headmaster''s grim nod was all the answer he needed.

    It was a sobering realization. Of course, the pureblood families wouldn''t have left themselves without leverage over the school. How could he have overlooked such a crucial detail? This contract meant that many of the Headmaster''s actions and decisions were likely constrained in ways they hadn''t even considered. And the notion of repaying centuries worth of donations and grants was, as Phineas had said, utterly impossible.

    A rhythmic tapping filled the office ¨C Bryan''s fingers drumming against the arm of his chair as his mind raced to find a solution. He leaned back, tilting his head to stare at the intricate relief carvings that adorned the domed ceiling of Dumbledore''s office. The flickering candlelight made the carved figures seem to dance, as if mocking his predicament.

    But then, like the first ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds, an idea began to form in Bryan''s mind. His furrowed brow slowly smoothed out as the pieces fell into ce.

    "I think," Bryan said slowly, a hint of his earlier confidence returning to his voice, "that the pureblood families who drafted this contract must have anticipated a scenario where they might want to sever ties with Hogwarts themselves. They should have included provisions for such a possibility."

    Phineas Nigellus ck''s face broke into a wide, appreciative grin. "Oh, very good!" he eximed, clearly impressed by Bryan''s quick thinking. "Indeed they did. The families retain the right to cease their financial support of the school at any time, effectively terminating their rtionship with Hogwarts."

    "Thank you, Headmaster ck," Bryan replied, a pleasant smile appearing at his lips. He turned back to Dumbledore, meeting the current Headmaster''s piercing blue gaze with renewed determination. "This, Headmaster Dumbledore, is a matter of who shoots first ¨C much like two wizards facing off in a duel."

    Bryan''s voice took on a calcting edge as he continued, "If Voldemort hasn''t yet thought to use the school board to cut off Hogwarts'' funding as a means of forcing you topromise, well... perhaps we should send someone to nt that idea in his mind."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0461 More Foolproof Plan

    0461 More Foolproof n

    Send someone discreetly to remind Voldemort that he can use the Board of Governors to create pressure on Dumbledore. Then, when the moment is ripe, we can leverage that pressure to push for the separation of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from the control of the Board of Governors entirely.

    This, however, is merely the first stage of the n. The true objective will be to wield the official powers granted by this newfound independence and the weight of public opinion tounch a thorough investigation into the businesses and dealings of the pure-blood wizarding families who have long supported Voldemort. Such a move will undoubtedly sow discord and unrest within the ranks of the Death Eaters, undermining Voldemort''s power base from within.

    Dumbledore''s silver eyebrows arched higher and higher as he listened to Bryan''s n, his piercing blue eyes reflecting both intrigue and concern. He suddenly realized that he still had room to improve in the realm of strategy and intrigue.

    "Running into you is truly unfortunate for Tom, Bryan¡ª"

    After swiftly contemting Bryan''s intricate strategy in his mind, Dumbledore gently shook his head, his expression shifting from thoughtful to somber.

    "After regaining his powers, Tom will undoubtedly be eager to reunite with his old followers, those who had once pledged their loyalty to him. He will also seek to rally dark creatures, gathering them under his banner to expand his influence and tighten his grip on the wizarding world. At the right moment, revealing this n could indeed cause him considerable trouble and weaken his position. However, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore''s tone shifted, growing serious as he fixed Bryan with a prating gaze.

    "You must understand the broader implications of such a course of action. If we proceed in this manner, it will inevitably have repercussions that extend far beyond Voldemort and his followers. More innocent people, those who have no part in this conflict, will have their lives disrupted, and it will also destabilize the already fragile structure of the wizarding world."

    Bryan''s eyelids twitched slightly, a subtle indication of his surprise at Dumbledore''s keen insight. The old man had seen through the broader implications of the n, understanding that it was not just about targeting Voldemort; it was also an opportunity¡ªa calcted risk to initiate sweeping transformations in the entrenched and decaying social order and production structure of the wizarding world.

    "Change must happen¡ª" Bryan stated simply, his voice carrying a weight of conviction that needed no further boration.

    The cold misty rain that had been steadily falling outside pped against his face, immediately clearing the slight haze in Bryan''s mind. The world beyond the castle walls remained dark, shrouded in storm clouds that seemed to mirror the brewing storm within the wizarding world itself.

    Lightning asionally streaked across the night sky, illuminating thendscape in brief, brilliant shes. Yet the thunderps that followed were distant, their rumbling fainter than the noises made by the house-elves who silently went about their tasks, cleaning the castle under the cover of night.

    Tonight, Bryan and Dumbledore had a candid conversation, one that would weigh heavily on both their minds.

    Dumbledore didn''t resist the idea of detaching Hogwarts from the control of the Board of Governors through a series of carefully orchestrated measures. However, it was clear that he did not want Bryan to delve too deeply into the affairs of the Ministry of Magic or use the impending war as a means to fully destabilize the existing order of the wizarding world.

    In other words, Dumbledore didn''t want Bryan tounch arge-scale attack on the pure-blood wizarding families, whose influence and wealth had be the foundation of their society.

    This reluctance was not unexpected.

    Dumbledore''s thinking, while progressive in many ways, was still tempered by a deep understanding of the consequences of such actions. He recognized the dangers posed by the pure-blood families'' monopoly over the wizarding world''s resources and their insidious control over its political and economic systems.

    His solution to this problem was more subtle, more patient¡ªhe remained at Hogwarts, the heart of magical education, and constantly sought to bring Muggle-born wizards into the magicalmunity, nurturing them and gradually integrating them into the wizarding society.

    This approach could indeed be effective, but Bryan saw its limitations. After reaching a certain point, it would lose its impact, as the best and most advanced resources in the wizarding world would still be controlled by those pure-blood families.

    As Bryan pondered this, he strongly suspected that Dumbledore was not blind to these limitations, but for various reasons, Bryan could only specte about Dumbledore had never mustered the resolve to push for more radical change. Perhaps he feared that doing so would spark another bloody war, one that the wizarding world might not survive.

    But that war, in Bryan''s view, was inevitable. It woulde sooner orter, and it would be better to merge the two battlegrounds¡ªthe fight against Voldemort and the struggle against the entrenched power of the pure-blood families¡ªinto one. Solving the problem in one decisive stroke was, to Bryan, the most pragmatic approach.

    <strong>Crack¡ª</strong>

    In the distance, like a fleeting bloom in the darkness, a bright sh of lightning lit up the night sky before disappearing as quickly as it hade. This summer was bidding farewell to everyone in a tragic and solemn manner, its final days marked by a sense of foreboding.

    Bryan gazed at the fading lightning for a long while, lost in thought, before turning back to face the castle. In the silence of the night, the light from Dumbledore''s office window remained steady, like an eternal me that would never extinguish.

    "Time for bed¡ª" Bryan muttered to himself, pursing his lips as he slipped his hands into his pockets. Disying a rare hint of youthful impetuousness, he strolled through the rain, the heavy droplets soaking his robes as he crossed the corridor bridge, heading back to his quarters.

    The storm outside seemed to echo the storm within his mind, a storm that would not subside until the battle for the fate of the wizarding world was won.

    Meanwhile, in a quiet neighborhood not far from the castle, the brilliant thunder had faded, but the st and shockwave that had struck the courtyard wall still managed to wake the nearby Muggle neighbors from their sleep. Even with the thunder''s cover, several upstairs bedroom lights flicked on hurriedly, as concerned residents peered out into the night. The heavy rain obscured their view, preventing them from seeing exactly what was happening at the home of the crazy old man who lived at the end of the street, but the strange silver light flickering in the rain sent chills down their spines.

    Instinctively, the Muggles reached for their bedside tables, fumbling for their phones, and called the police.

    "Oh, God¡ª" one of them whispered, his voice trembling with fear as he ryed what little he could see to the dispatcher on the other end of the line.

    When four policemen finally arrived, their car skidding to a halt in front of the old man''s house, they wasted no time. Running down from the vehicle in the pouring rain, they kicked open the tattered subway door and rushed into the yard, guns drawn. The sight that greeted them caused all four men to gasp audibly.

    "Did you bury explosives in your garden, sir? Answer my question!" a potbellied officer roared, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger as he pointed his gun at the old man with a limp, who was slumped on the floor in the entryway. The man, leaning heavily against the wall, was gasping for breath, his face twisted in pain and exhaustion.

    "Get out of here, you stupid Muggles!" the wild-haired, deranged old man roared, his voice hoarse from the effort. He furiously jabbed his walking stick at the air, as if the gesture alone could drive away the Muggle police who had barged into his yard.

    "Look at that¡ªmy God, I must be dreaming!" another officer cried out, grabbing the arm of the one questioning the old man and forcing him to look at a corner of the yard. There, in the dim light, something truly bizarre had caught their attention. Then, as if they had all been hit by a Stunning Spell, the group froze, standing motionless in the torrential rain, their shlights illuminating a scene straight out of a nightmare.

    "Damn it!" the old man spat, his scarred face twitching with dissatisfaction as he took in the chaotic scene around him. His yard was a mess¡ªgarbage was strewn everywhere; the lid of a trash can was blown off spraying garbage in all directions like a machine gun.

    "The Ministry of Magic will have something to say about this again!" The old man muttered darkly.

    The rain continued to pour down, blurring the boundary between night and day. In any case, it wasn''t until noon the next day that the wizards who had beening and going in the courtyard finally disappeared. Themotion had drawn unwanted attention, and it had taken considerable effort to repair the damage and set things right.

    After painstakingly repairing the overturnedwn and the copsed wall, Arthur Weasley, with two huge dark circles under his eyes from a sleepless night, stood in front of the iron gate and waved weakly to Mad-Eye Moody, who wasstill lurking nearby, his ever-watchful eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of further trouble.

    "Thanks, Arthur!" Moody bellowed in his gruff voice, his magical eye whirling wildly in its socket as he watched Arthur with a mix of concern and gratitude. "I''ll keep an eye on your kids!"

    Mr. Weasley didn''t say a word, just weakly smiled at Moody before Disapparating away from the old Auror''s ce. He was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, from the events of these nights. Moody didn''t immediately close the door, his gaze lingered on the spot where Arthur had vanished. The blue magic eye in his eye socket shed like lightning, turning wildly as if seeking out any remaining threats.

    <strong>Bang¡ª</strong>

    With a rough motion, Moody shut the door behind him, plunging the house into darkness. Limping slightly from an old injury, he made his way back to his kitchen, standing before the extinguished firece. The room was cold and silent, a stark contrast to the storm raging outside. Moody pulled out his wand, his fingers gripping it tightly as he prepared to take the next step in his n.

    After fiddling with the firece for a moment, Moody flicked his wrist, aiming the tip of his wand at the neatly stacked logs in the hearth. With a burst of heat, the logs ignited, mes crackling and roaring to life. The warm light illuminated the room, casting long shadows on the walls. Then, grabbing a handful of Floo Powder from the mantel, Moody tossed it into the fire, watching as the mes turned emerald green and began to swirl.

    "The trouble has been dealt with¡ª" Moody growled, his voice low and rough as he leaned closer to the fire.

    <em><strong>Whoosh!</strong></em> From within the swirling mes, the shadowy image of a serpent''s head emerged, its eyes glowing with an unnatural light. A high-pitched, cold voice emanated from the firece, sending a shiver down Moody''s spine despite his tough demeanor.

    "Are you still doubtful of the n, or are you perhaps feeling fear?" the voice hissed, its tone dripping with disdain.

    "I just want to confirm with you¡ªyou''re still set on using this n, aren''t you?" Moody''s face was grim, his normal eye reflecting his obvious reluctance.

    "Even though you''ve seen that Bryan Watson is not just some ordinary wizard, and under the watchful eyes of both Dumbledore and Watson, taking Harry Potter from Hogwarts¡ª" Moody began, but the voice from the mes cut him off, its irritation palpable.

    "Bryan Watson indeed surprised me. I must admit, killing him is beyond what I can do without a physical body, but as I''ve repeatedly told you, my n is wless. Neither Dumbledore nor Watson will see through it!" The voice grew more insistent, the mes ring as if to emphasize its point.

    "After your foolish stunt at the World Cup, it was predictable that Dumbledore and Watson would heighten their vignce, but I''ve adjusted the n to make it even more foolproof.

    You must understand, you have to prove your worth to me if you want my assistance. Consider yourself fortunate¡ªLord Voldemort rarely grants second chances. If it weren''t for my loyal servant being gravely injured and needing time to recover, your impulsive actions at the World Cup wouldn''t have gone unpunished!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0462 New School Year

    0462 New School Year

    The weather on this particr day was abysmal, easily the most miserable in everyone''s recent memory. Thick, dark clouds hung low in the sky, unleashing a relentless deluge that seemed determined to drench everyst inch of the Scottish Hignds. The wind howled mercilessly, whipping raindrops into stinging projectiles that assaulted any exposed skin.

    Despite the gloomy conditions, an unexpectedly rxed atmosphere permeated the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The ancient stone walls of the castle, usually imposing seemed to exude a warmth and anticipation that contradicted their cold, wet exterior.

    Every staff member, from the stern-faced professors to the diligent house-elves working tirelessly behind the scenes, bustled about with barely contained excitement. They were all engrossed in the numerous tasks necessary to prepare for the imminent arrival of the students and the official start of the new school year.

    There was a shared sentiment among them: The cold, ancient castle only truly bes Hogwarts when its halls are filled with theughter, chatter, and footsteps of young witches and wizards. That''s when the magic of the schooles alive.

    As the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station with a billowing cloud of steam, Harry stepped onto the rain-soaked tform. His emerald eyes immediately sought out the familiar silhouette of Hogwarts Castle in the distance. Despite the dreary weather, the castle stood proudly against the stormy sky, its countless windows zing with warm, weing light that cut through the gloomy curtain of rain.

    The sight of Hogwarts filled Harry with an overwhelming sense of joy and belonging, a feeling so intense it quickly dispelled the lingering mncholy caused by Sirius''s absence at King''s Cross and his encounter with Draco Malfoy on the train.

    Harry wasn''t alone in experiencing this sudden uplift in mood. Ron who had spent a good portion of the train ride sulking about the embarrassingly old-fashioned dress robes his mother had packed for him, seemed to cheer up considerably at the sight of the castle.

    Together with their ssmates, Harry and Ron eagerly made their way to the line of horseless carriages waiting just outside the station. As they scrambled inside, seeking shelter from the downpour, the interior of the carriage came active with lively chatter andughter.

    After a summer spent apart, everyone was bursting with eagerness to share their holiday experiences. Tales of family trips, magical mishaps, and summer adventures filled the air. However, one topic dominated the conversations, covering all others: the spectacr duel that had attracted the World''s attention on the night of the Quidditch World Cup final.

    In one corner of the carriage, Neville listened to the excited recountings with a mixture of envy and disappointment etched across his round face.

    "Gran didn''t want to go," he said pitifully, his voice barely audible above the lively discussions surrounding him. "She wouldn''t buy tickets, saying she thought the match would be boring. But after reading about that night''s events in the Daily Prophet, she was kicking herself for missing it."

    Hermione turned to console Neville with a sympathetic smile. "Look at it this way, Neville," she began, her tone gentle and encouraging, "Many wizards witnessed that duel, it''s true. But how many of them had the incredible opportunity to receive personal instruction from Professor Watson? And not only that, but you''re even Professor Watson''s appointed teaching assistant. That''s something truly special, something most of those World Cup attendees would probably trade their experience for in a heartbeat."

    As soon as the words left her mouth, however, Hermione''s expression changed. A shiver ran through her body, and her eyes widened with sudden worry. "Oh no," she said, her voice tinged with anxiety, "When school starts, if Professor Watson finds that we haven''t made enough progress over the summer, do you think he''ll be furious with us? Oh, where''s Luna? I need to find her!"

    Harry, who had been listening to the exchange, felt a jolt of panic at Hermione''s words. "Oh, speaking of that," he said, running a hand through his messy ck hair, "At least you kept up with your running over the summer, Hermione. I''m afraid my physical condition will have deteriorated terribly."

    Ron, who had been happily munching on a Chocte Frog he''d saved from the train, rolled his eyes at his friends'' concerns. "Give it a rest, you two," he said, his mouth still half-full of chocte. "You were both as nimble as garden gnomes when dodging the attacks of that witch named Mnoff! I saw you myself. Professor Watson would have to be blind not to see how much you''ve improved."

    As their conversation continued, the carriage passed through the gates of Hogwarts, each pir topped with a magnificent winged boar statue. The wide driveway stretched before them, winding its way up to the castle. The fierce wind caused the carriage to shake violently, eliciting nervous giggles from the upants. Harry leaned against the window, his breath fogging up the ss as he watched Hogwarts draw nearer. The castle''s many lit windows glowed dimly through the thick curtain of rain, like a constetion of warm, inviting stars.

    Suddenly, a blinding sh of lightning split the sky, illuminating the grounds for a brief, dazzling moment. Harry, who had been staring intently out the window, jumped up with a flinch. His sudden movement caused Ron to drop his half-eaten Chocte Frog, which promptly hopped away under the seats. Pointing at the sky with a trembling finger, Harry shouted, "Someone just flew by!"

    Harry''s startled cry silenced the noisy carriage for a heartbeat or two. Then, as if on cue, everyone except Hermione rushed to Harry''s window, pressing their faces against the ss and straining their eyes to peer into the darkness outside. Unfortunately, the lightning''s glow had already faded, leaving only the oppressive gloom of the storm-darkened sky.

    "You mean," Hermione began, eyeing Harry with a mixture of suspicion and concern, "Someone was practicing Quidditch in this weather? That seems incredibly reckless."

    "No, no! it''s impossible in this weather," Harry insisted, his voice filled with excitement and a touch of frustration at not being believed. "It wasn''t Quidditch. Even Wood wouldn''t be mad enough to fly in this storm. I saw that person flying directly, without a broomstick!"

    Hermione''s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Was it Professor Watson?" she asked, her voice hushed with awe.

    Among all the Hogwarts professors, only Professor Watson had ever demonstrated the ability to fly without the aid of a broomstick or other magical device in front of her. Intrigued by Harry''s im, she leaned against the window, following Harry''s outstretched arm with her gaze. "That direction... isn''t that towards the ck Lake?"

    Neville, who had been listening to the exchange with growing nervousness, piped up, "What would Professor Watson be doing at the ck Lake in this weather?"

    Ron chimed in with his own theory. "Maybe someone fell into the ck Lake," he suggested, a mix of concern and excitement in his voice. "Oh, I hope it''s not Hagrid. If Hagrid fell in, this year''s first-years might all have to take a cold bath. Brr, in this weather¡ª" He shuddered at the thought but couldn''t hide his eagerness as he pressed his nose against the window, peering into the darkness outside the carriage.

    As the carriages finally came to a stop at the foot of the stone steps leading up to the castle, the students braced themselves for the mad dash through the rain to the entrance hall. The short walk from the bottom of the marble staircase to the massive oak front doors was enough to soak their clothes thoroughly.

    Everyone jostled and pushed, eager to get into the rtive warmth and dryness of the Great Hall, but thebination of the slippery floor and the sheer number of students trying to squeeze through the doors at once created a chaotic and somewhat dangerous situation.

    In the midst of this confusion, a cry of pain rang out. "Ouch!" Hermione eximed as someone stepped hard on her foot. The ruckus of the crowd and the pounding rain drowned out her voice, and even Harry and Ron, who were right beside her, didn''t hear her over themotion. They were each struggling to maintain their own bnce on the treacherously wet floor. Unable to move freely in the press of bodies, Hermione could only hunch her shoulders like a quail and inch forward, gritting her teeth against the throbbing pain in her foot.

    <em><strong>Whoosh¡ª</strong></em>

    Suddenly, a whoosh of disced air cut through the sound of rain and chattering students. Apanied by a gust of wind that momentarily parted the curtain of rain, a figure descended from the sky.

    Seeing the congested path and the suffering young wizards in the rain, Bryan sighed. With a fluid motion, he gripped the wand that had slid from his sleeve into his waiting hand. Pointing it towards sky, he uttered an incantation that was lost in the howling wind.

    From the tip of his wand emerged a milky white light, shimmering and flowing like liquid starlight. This ethereal substance twisted and morphed in mid-air, rapidly expanding to form a canopy closed on both sides and the top, effectively blocking the pouring rain.

    But Bryan wasn''t finished. With another wave of his wand, he directed its tip at the shivering young wizards. A warm breeze, as gentle as a summer wind, emanated from the wand, enveloping the students in its soothing embrace. To their amazement and delight, not only had the rain stopped falling on their heads, but their rain-soaked clothes, which had been clinging ufortably to their skin, became dry in an instant. The sudden change from cold and wet to warm and dry elicited gasps of surprise and murmurs of appreciation from the assembled students.

    Attracted by themotion, Professor McGonagall quickly made her way down from the entrance to the Great Hall. Her normally stern face was etched with concern as she surveyed the scene. Under thebined direction of the two professors, the flow of traffic soon resumed its normal pace, with students filing into the castle in a more orderly fashion.

    "How is it, Bryan?" Professor McGonagall called out anxiously, still unable to leave her post at the Great Hall entrance due to the continuing influx of students. She stood on tiptoe, craning her neck to see over the heads of the crowd. "Has that child been found?"

    As if in answer to her question, a small figure became visible, held securely in Bryan''s grasp. It was a young boy, soaking wet and looking somewhat shell-shocked, but otherwise unharmed. At the sight of him, a voice rang out from the crowd of students.

    "Dennis!" The cry came from Colin Creevey, who had finally managed to emerge from the press of bodies. His eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and relief as he recognized his younger brother in the professor''s arms. "What happened? How did you end up with Professor Watson?"

    The small boy, Dennis, seemed toe alive at the sound of his brother''s voice. "I fell into theke, Colin!" he shouted in a high-pitched voice with his limbs dangling in the air as Bryan held him in flight, a position that seemed to delight rather than frighten the young boy.

    "It was amazing! I tipped over in the storm, and I thought I was done for. Then this gentleman ¨C this flying gentleman ¨C swooped down out of nowhere and pulled me right out of the water!" Dennis paused, his eyes growing even wider as he twisted in Bryan''s grip to look up at his rescuer. "Wait a minute, you''re Professor Watson!!"

    Bryan chuckled at the boy''s enthusiasm, and gently set him down on the now-dry stone steps. He winked at Colin, who was beaming with pride. "Now, get in line properly, little one. You don''t want to miss your own Sorting Ceremony, do you?"

    As Dennis scurried off to join the other first-years, Bryan turned to face the remaining students. He observed the admiring gazes focused on him. With a small smile, he rose effortlessly into the air, floating gracefully over the heads of the young wizards and into the Great Hall.

    The Great Hall, as always, was a sight to behold. It had fully regained its former grandeur after the summer break and was specially decorated for the new term''s feast. Hundreds upon hundreds of candles floated serenely in mid-air above the long House tables, their warm light reflecting off the gleaming golden tes and gobletsid out in neat rows. The enchanted ceiling above mirrored the stormy sky outside, though without the difort of actual rain falling on the students below.

    By the time Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally squeezed their way into the Hall, the four House tables were already filled to capacity with chattering students. The excited buzz of conversation filled the air, mixed with the asional burst ofughter or exmation of surprise as friends reunited after the long summer break. At the far end of the hall, elevated on a tform, stood the staff table. Most of the familiar faces of their teachers were already seated there, engaged in their own quiet conversations or surveying the sea of students before them.

    Harry''s eyes scanned the staff table, taking in the familiar sight of Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and Snape. His gaze thennded on an empty chair, conspicuous in its vacancy amidst the assembled faculty. "There''s an empty seat," he pointed out to Hermione, gesturing towards the gap. "It''s probably for the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

    Hermione followed his gaze, her brow furrowing in concentration as she, too, scanned the staff table. "But where is he?" she asked, craning her neck and letting her eyes dart around the Great Hall as if expecting to see the new professor materialize out of thin air. "I can''t see any new faces up there. You don''t think... is it possible that Professor Dumbledore couldn''t find anyone to take the position this year?"

    As the evening grew, Hermione''s spection seemed to gain more credibility. Even after the Sorting Ceremony had concluded, with its parade of nervous first-years trying on the ancient Sorting Hat, and even after the four long House tables had been magically filled with a sumptuous feast that filled the air with mouth-watering aromas, the empty seat at the staff table remained conspicuously unupied.

    Up at the staff table, Dumbledore sat in his chair at the center. His long silver beard gleamed in the candlelight as he watched the young wizards below, all enthusiastically wolfing down their meals.

    Setting down his knife and fork, Dumbledore turned slightly in his seat to address Bryan.

    "Soon, we''ll be announcing to the children that the Triwizard Tournament will be held at Hogwarts again this year, Bryan, you''ve made a significant contribution to this matter. I think perhaps you should be the one to share this joyous news with the children."

    The professors at the staff table, some were attending to their own meals, while others were engaged in quiet conversations with their neighbors. However, at Dumbledore''s casual remarks, a ripple of surprise seemed to pass through the assembled faculty.

    The Headmaster''s speech at the start-of-term feast was a Hogwarts tradition. Since Dumbledore had taken the position of Headmaster, he had never missed this asion or failed to give a speech, regardless of how pressing other matters might be. For him to suggest that Bryan deliver this particr announcement in his stead today seemed... a very clear signal indeed!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0463 The Transition

    0463 The Transition

    Among the four Hogwarts Heads of House, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout, both were slightly surprised. Their eyebrows were raised subtly, and they exchanged quick, meaningful nces. They were well aware that Hogwarts had seeded over itspetitors to secure the honor of hosting the legendary Triwizard Tournament, a feat made possible by the significant contributions of Bryan. However, they weren''t sure if Dumbledore had asked Bryan to give the speech for this specific reason.

    In stark contrast, Professor McGonagall''s usually rigid posture seemed to soften slightly, and there was an unmistakable glimmer of encouragement in her eyes behind her square spectacles.

    The Head of Slytherin House maintained his characteristically impassive demeanor. His sallow face remained an unreadable mask, showing no emotion. However, his dark eyes darted back and forth between Bryan and Dumbledore with intensity.

    Seemingly oblivious to the subtle undercurrents of curiosity and spection swirling around him, Bryan calmly dabbed at the corner of his mouth with a crisp linen napkin. His demeanor was one of practiced nonchnce, as though he hadn''t noticed the unusual signalsing from his colleagues.

    "No problem, Headmaster Dumbledore," Bryan replied with a slight nod.

    Meanwhile, the buzzing of excited chatter continued to rise from the four long House tables below. At the Gryffindor table, sat a small, mousy-haired boy named Dennis Creevey a new addition to the house this year. For what seemed like the hundredth time that evening, Dennis was tirelessly describing to his fellow Gryffindors with the tale of his dramatic entrance to Hogwarts.

    "And then," Dennis eximed, his voice pitched with excitement, "just as I thought I was done for, sinking into the freezing water of theke, I felt something brush against my leg!" He paused for dramatic effect, his audience leaning in despite having heard the story multiple times. "I thought it was the giant squid,e to eat me! But then Hagrid''s boat appeared, and he sent up these brilliant red sparks from his umbre. It was like fireworks in the rain!"

    His fellow first-years gasped in awe, while the older students smiled kindly. Dennis, encouraged by their reactions, continued with even more gusto.

    "But the best part was when Professor Watson came swooping down! He looked like a superhero flying with billowing robes. One moment I was iling in the water, and the next, whoosh! He''d scooped me right out of theke with this amazing bit of magic. I didn''t even get any wetter than I already was!"

    Further down the table, Neville was hanging on every word of a heated discussion about the Quidditch World Cup final. His eyes were wide with fascination, and he leaned in so far, he was in danger of dipping his sleeve into his pumpkin juice. Every time someone mentioned the duel that had broken out that night, Neville''s ears practically perked up like an attentive puppy''s.

    "Did you see how Viktor Krum feinted?" one student eximed.

    "Never mind that," another interrupted, "what about those masked wizards? I heard they were throwing curses left and right!"

    Neville nodded vigorously, drinking in every detail. The World Cup and its chaotic aftermath had been the talk of the wizarding world all summer, and Neville, who had missed the event, was determined not to be left out of the excitement.

    Beside Neville, Hermione her bushy brown hair even more frazzled than usual, was engaged in an entirely different kind of distress. She had just finished a vigorous conversation with Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, and the information she had collected had left her horrorstruck. In her shock, she had knocked over her goblet of orange juice.

    "Hogwarts has house-elves?" she spluttered, her voice a mix of disbelief and indignation. "And not just a few, but the most in all of Britain? How can this be? It''s... it''s very!"

    Her outburst drew curious nces from her housemates, but Hermione was too caught up in her newfound crusade to notice. Her mind was already whirring with ns for elf liberation and campaigns for magical creature rights.

    Across the hall, at the Slytherin table, draped in green and silver, Draco held court among his fellow snakes. The pale, pointed-faced boy was basking in the attention of his peers, particrly that of ise Zabini. With exaggerated movements, Draco rolled up the sleeve of his expensive robes, revealing a thin, pale scar on his forearm.

    "You see this?" he drawled, his voice dripping with haughtiness. "Got it the night of the World Cup final. A masked wizard thought he could take on the Malfoys." He paused, savoring the anticipation on his ssmates'' faces. "Big mistake, that. Father and I showed him what happens when you cross a family as powerful as ours."

    Zabini leaned in, examining the scar with a mixture of skepticism and grudging admiration. "Must have been some duel," hemented, his tone carefully neutral.

    Draco''s chest puffed up even more. "Oh, it was. You should have seen it. Spells were flying everywhere, Of course, we came out on top."

    The Slytherins around him nodded approvingly, though a few exchanged knowing nces behind Draco''s back. It was often hard to separate truth from embellishment in Draco''s tales, but few dared to challenge him openly.

    A sudden burst of girlishughter erupted from the Ravenw table, drawing attention from across the hall. A group of girls had their heads bent close together, whispering and giggling. At the Gryffindor table, Harry caught staring, quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing slightly.

    In that moment, asughter, chatter, and the clinking of cutlery filled the air, not a single young witch or wizard in the Great Hall realized the magnitude of the changes that were about to unfold. They stood unknowingly at the transition to a new era, blissfully unaware of the trials, tribtions, and triumphs that awaited them in theing year.

    Suddenly, a series of clear, resonant chimes cut through the din of the Great Hall.

    <strong>Ding, ding, ding</strong> ¡ª the sound rang out, causing a ripple of surprise to sweep through the gathered students. As if by magic (which, of course, it was), the remnants of dessert vanished from the golden tes before them, leaving behind spotless tableware that gleamed in the candlelight.

    The abrupt silence that followed was intermingled only by the howling of the wind outside and the steady drumming of heavy rain against the castle''s ancient windows. The storm seemed to highlight the sense of anticipation that now filled the hall.

    To the students'' collective surprise, it was not Headmaster Dumbledore who had risen to address them, as was customary at the start-of-term feast. Instead, Professor Watson stood at the center of the staff table, his tall figure catching their attention. Dumbledore remained seated in his chair with a serene smile on his lips as he gazed out at the sea of young faces before him.

    Bryan''s eyes swept across the Great Hall, taking in the hundreds of curious and slightly confused expressions turned towards him.

    "Wee," he began, his voice clear and strong, carrying easily to every corner of the vast room. "Wee back to Hogwarts. Before we embark on what I''m sure will be another pleasant and eventful school year, there are a few new announcements that you all need to be aware of¡ª"

    At the Gryffindor table, Ron leaned towards Harry, his freckled face scrunched up in confusion. He shrank his neck, trying to speak without drawing attention to himself.

    "What''s going on?" Ron whispered, his blue eyes darting between Harry and the staff table. "Why is it Professor Watson giving the speech? Shouldn''t it be Dumbledore?"

    Before Harry could respond, Hermione whipped around in her seat, her earlier indignation about house-elves momentarily forgotten. Her brown eyes were serious, and she made a sharp shushing gesture with her hand.

    "Shh!" she hissed, her expression a mixture of curiosity and reproach. "Let''s listen. This must be important if Professor Dumbledore has asked Professor Watson to speak."

    Up at the staff table, Bryan continued his address, his tone measured and clear.

    "¡ªBefore we begin our pleasant new school year, there are some things that must be brought to your attention. First, as always, I must remind you all that the Forbidden Forest on the grounds is strictly off-limits to students. The name isn''t just for show, you know." He paused, allowing a small chuckle to ripple through the hall. "As for Hogsmeade vige, I''m afraid I must disappoint our eager first and second years ¨C visits are restricted to third-year students and above, as per longstanding school policy."

    The older students, particrly those who had been at Hogwarts for several years, began to show signs of restlessness. Dumbledore''s start-of-term speech followed a familiar pattern each year, and despite their respect for Professor Watson, many had hoped for something new and exciting. The repetition of well-known rules and regtions was beginning to dampen the anticipation that had built up over the summer.

    Sensing the mood, Fred as one half of Gryffindor''s infamous troublemaking duo, couldn''t resist calling out. His voice, tinged with a hint of cheekiness, rang out across the hall.

    "Any new tricks up your sleeve, Professor Watson?"

    The outburst earned Fred a stern re from Professor McGonagall, her lips pressing into a thin line of disapproval. However, Bryan seemed unfazed by the interruption.

    "New tricks, you say?" Bryan pondered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. His tone took on a humorous pitch as he continued. "Well, let me think. Ah, yes, there is something that might pique your interest, Mr. Weasley."

    The hall fell silent withstudents leaning forward in anticipation.

    "After a thorough review by the Student Safety Office," Bryan announced, his voice taking on a mock-serious tone, "I am pleased to inform you that the number of items prohibited within the school has been reduced from a staggering 437st year to a mere 385 this year."

    A murmur of surprise rippled through the hall. Bryan held up a hand, forestalling any premature celebration.

    "Of course," he added, a hint of mischief in his voice, "some of these newly permitted items are still not quite appropriate for use inside the castle walls. However, they are now allowed on the outer grounds. For those of you who are particrly interested in the finer points of what is and isn''t allowed ¨C and I suspect I know who you are ¨C" Here, he cast a knowing nce at Fred and George, "a detailed list can be found in Mr. Filch''s office. Feel free to read it at your leisure."

    Fred and George exchanged nces, their eyes burning with an excitement that was equal parts mischief and genuine intrigue. Since their first year at Hogwarts, they had watched Filch''s list of banned items grow at an rming rate each year. This year was the first time the list had been shortenedpared to the previous year. Did this mean the school environment might be more rxed in the future?

    Their excitement was contagious. All around them, students began to specte in hushed whispers about what items might now be permitted.

    "Guess what interesting things Professor Watson will let into Hogwarts¡ª"

    Harry heard Seamus Finnigan ask in a low, eager voice.

    Dean Thomas, seated next to Seamus, didn''t miss a beat. "Definitely Dungbombs, he uses them in his own sses!"

    The buzz of excited spection was growing, but Bryan wasn''t finished. He cleared his throat, regaining the attention of the hall.

    "Now," he continued, his tone sobering slightly, "I''m afraid I have some news that some of you may find disappointing." He paused, his eyes sweeping over the eager faces before him. "There will be no Inter-House Quidditch Cup this year."

    The reaction was immediate and dramatic. The expressions of the Weasley twins, who had just moments ago been brimming with excitement, froze in shock. Their mouths hung open, words failing them for perhaps the first time in their lives. But they weren''t alone in their dismay.

    All across the hall, students who hadn''t already heard the news reacted with surprise and disappointment. At the Gryffindor table, Harry felt his heart sink. Quidditch was one of the things he looked forward to most at Hogwarts. The thought of a year without soaring through the air on his Firebolt, seeking the Golden Snitch, left him feeling oddly empty.

    Only a few students, like Cedric at the Hufflepuff table and Draco among the Slytherins, seemed unsurprised by the announcement. They had likely heard whispers of this news already, but even they couldn''t hide a flicker of disappointment in their eyes.

    Bryan held up his hands, calling for calm. "I know, I know, But before you all start nning a revolt, let me assure you that there''s a very good reason for this decision."

    The hall quieted, all eyes fixed on Bryan, waiting for an exnation.

    "This is because," Bryan continued, "a major event will begin in October and continue throughout the school year. This event will upy much of the professors'' time and energy¡ª but I assure you, it will be well worth it. I believe you will all derive great pleasure from what''s toe."

    The disappointment that had settled over the hall began to lift, reced by a growing sense of curiosity and anticipation. What could possibly be important enough to cancel Quidditch?

    Bryan''s voice took on a tone of dramatic reveal. "I am very pleased to announce that this year at Hogwarts¡ª"

    Just as the words were about to leave his lips, nature itself seemed to conspire to heighten the suspense. A brilliant sh of lightning illuminated the enchanted ceiling, casting eerie shadows across the Great Hall. The fork of white light was immediately followed by a deafening crack of thunder that shook the castle. The ancient ss windows rattled ominously in their frames, as if threatening to shatter under the force of the storm''s fury.

    In that same moment, as if choreographed by some unseen hand, the massive oak doors of the Great Hall burst open with a resounding bang that echoed through the cavernous space. The timing was so perfect it almost seemed staged, causing several students to gasp and a few to let out startled yelps.

    Framed in the doorway stood a figure that seemed to have stepped out of a tale designed to frighten young witches and wizards. A man, if indeed it was a man, leaned heavily on a long, gnarled staff. He was wrapped in a ck traveling cloak that seemed to absorb what little light reached it, giving the impression of a mobile patch of darkness. Water dripped steadily from the hem of the cloak, forming a small puddle on the gstone floor.

    The students, who mere seconds ago had been hanging on Professor Watson''s every word, now turned as one to gawk at the stranger. The air in the Hall seemed to thicken with tension and curiosity.

    As if on cue, another sh of lightning illuminated the Great Hall, this time silhouetting the neer. The burst of light revealed a mane of long, graying hair that seemed to wriggle in the wind that howled through the open doors. The stranger took a stumbling step forward, his staff making a dull thud on the stone floor with eachborious movement.

    "Blimey," Ron whispered, his eyes wide as saucers. "Who in Merlin''s name is that?"

    Hermione, usually quick with an answer, found herself speechless. She had read extensively about the wizarding world, its history, and its notable figures, but nothing in her vast repository of knowledge had prepared her for the sight before them.

    As the stranger drew closer to the staff table, intermittent shes of lightning continued to illuminate his features, revealing a face that caused many students to recoil in shock.

    The man''s face was a battlefield of scars, each one a testament to the many duels and dark encounters he had survived. His features, though unmistakably human, seemed to bear the weight of decades of conflict.

    His mouth was a tight, grim line, pulled slightly by a scar that ran diagonally across his lips. Though battered, it was his nose that bore the most obvious mark of violence. A significant chunk was missing, leaving a jagged edge as though it had been torn away in some vicious battle. Every breath he took wasbored, his face a map of hardship and survival. He looked like a man who had spent his life on the front lines of a war that never seemed to end.

    "Merlin''s beard," Seamus breathed, his Irish ent more distinct in his shock. "Who is he!"

    "Isn''t it obvious? He must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

    Ron said, drawing in a sharp breath.

    "Look at that face ¡ª he''s clearly an expert in dealing with Dark Magic!"

    But as unsettling as the man''s face was, it paled inparison to his eyes. Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine as she studied them. One eye was small, dark, and beady, sunken deep into its socket like a piece of coal pressed into dough. The other wasrge, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye moved ceaselessly, without blinking, rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye.

    As the students watched in fascinated horror, the blue eye suddenly rolledpletely over, pointing backward into the man''s skull, so all they could see was whiteness. Several students gasped, and Neville looked as if he might faint.

    As the stranger approached the staff table, a subtle shift urred in the atmosphere of the Great Hall. Dumbledore, who had remained seated throughout Professor Watson''s speech, now rose to his feet. His long silver beard gleamed in the candlelight as he spread his arms in a weing gesture, a warm smile crinkling the corners of his eyes behind his half-moon spectacles.

    "Ah, stor!" Dumbledore''s voice rang out with warmth. "We''re pleased you could join us."

    Moody just gave a curt nod, his magical eye whirling around the room. He scanned the hall with both his normal and magical eyes, clearly assessing everyone, even in the presumed safety of Hogwarts.

    Bryan also turned his attention to the stranger.

    <strong>stor Moody.</strong>

    Reportedly the most outstanding Auror in the Ministry of Magic in recent years. After Voldemort''s downfall, he had led the capture of some of the most stubborn holdouts. Bryan knew who this man was, but this knowledge came from Dumbledore''s prior briefing, not from personal acquaintance with this retired Auror. When Bryan had graduated from Hogwarts and entered society, Rufus Scrimgeour was already the head of the Auror Office.

    "stor ran into a bit of trouble on his way here, which ounts for histe arrival,"Dumbledore exchanged a few words with Moody, then turned to Bryan, "Perhaps, Bryan, you could take this opportunity to introduce the children to their new professor for this school year?"

    "It would be my honor--"

    Bryan nodded with a slight smile, extending his hand to the ''legendary Auror'' who had scanned him several times with his magical eye.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0464 Response

    0464 Response

    "The renowned Bryan Watson¡ª"

    Moody''s magical blue eye suddenly snapped back to focus, zeroing in on Bryan with intensity. The gnarled ex-Auror extended arge, calloused hand towards Bryan, his grip firm and unyielding as he shook the younger wizard''s hand. A hoarse chuckle escaped Moody''s scarred lips as he spoke, his voice gravelly and filled with a hint of dark humor.

    "Taking down that cunning Greyback, capturing the dark witch who attacked the Quidditch match¡ªthe Daily Prophet has practically be your personal gazette these days!"

    The students below, their curiosity piqued by this strange neer, craned their necks to get a better look. The whispering intensified, a low hum of excitement and apprehension filling the air. Clearly, this wasn''t the moment for a long conversation between them.

    Bryan exchanged a few more pleasantries with Moody before turning back to face the sea of eager young faces. His smile was warm and reassuring as he continued with the introduction.

    "Allow me to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor¡ª"

    Bryan pretended not to hear Moody quietly questioning Dumbledore about why he sensed a familiar aura of criminality about him. He continued cheerfully addressing the students,

    "Professor Moody¡ª"

    In any normal circumstance, the introduction of a new teacher would be met with a round of weing apuse. However, the Great Hall remained eerily silent. Apart from Dumbledore, whose blue eyes twinkled with their usual joviality, Bryan himself, and Hagrid whose enormous hands created thunderous ps, not a single professor or student made a sound.

    A few brave souls attempted to start a round of apuse, but their isted ps echoed awkwardly in the hushed hall. Hands were quickly lowered, and an ufortable silence settled over the room. Every pair of eyes remained fixed on Moody, students and staff alike were too stunned by his bizarre appearance to do anything but stare at him unblinkingly.

    At the Gryffindor table, three friends huddled together, their whispered conversation barely audible above the tense silence.

    "Moody¡ª" Harry whispered to Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

    Ron, his freckled face pale beneath his red hair, nodded slowly. "Must be," he replied, his voice trembling slightly with fear.

    Hermione with curiosity and concern, joined the hushed conversation. "What happened to him?" she asked, her mind already working to understand the situation. "What''s wrong with his face?"

    The cold reception in the Great Hall was clearly not what Bryan had anticipated. He cleared his throat lightly, maintaining his weing smile despite the eeriness in the air.

    "Before his retirement," Bryan continued, his voice warm and encouraging, "Professor Moody was an Auror¡ªin fact, the most experienced Auror the Ministry has had in nearly fifty years. He has ample experience inbating the Dark Arts. I''m confident this year''s Defense Against the Dark Arts sses will be the most exciting and educational yet!"

    Slowly, whether out of respect for Professor Watson or simple curiosity, a smattering of apuse broke out across the four long tables. The sound grew gradually, like the first raindrops before a storm, as more students joined in. Whispers rippled through the crowd like waves on a pond.

    The younger students, their faces a mix of confusion and excitement, turned to their older housemates with questions. "What''s an Auror?" a tiny first-year Hufflepuff asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

    Meanwhile, the older students, particrly those from wizarding families, shared tales of Moody''s legendary exploits. "I heard he once took down five Death Eaters single-handedly," a sixth-year Ravenw murmured, his voice filled with awe.

    Moody himself seemed utterly indifferent to the curious stares and whispered conversations. He stumped his way to the empty seat reserved for him at the staff table, his wooden leg making a distinct ''clunk'' with each step. Ignoring therge jug of pumpkin juice ced before him, Moody instead reached into his robes and pulled out a battered hip sk. He took a long swig from it, his magical eye swiveling wildly as he drank.

    As Moody raised his arm to drink, his cloak lifted a few inches off the ground, revealing his wooden leg in its entirety. Many students gasped audibly as they caught sight of the prosthetic, which ended in a wicked-looking wed foot.

    Realizing that the introduction had perhaps not gone as smoothly as he''d hoped, Bryan cleared his throat once more. "Well, let''s return to the matter at hand,"

    His voice, when he spoke again, carried a note of renewed enthusiasm, clearly eager to move the evening in a more positive direction.

    "As I was saying earlier, Hogwarts will have the great honor of hosting a very exciting event over theing months. It''s an event that hasn''t been held for over a century. It is my great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking ce at Hogwarts this year."

    The tension that had filled the Hall since Moody''s arrival suddenly shattered like a broken spell. A loud, incredulous voice cut through the silence.

    "You''re JOKING!" Fred eximed, his voice echoing off the ancient stone walls of the Great Hall.

    The tension that had filled the Hall since Moody''s arrival suddenly broke. Almost everyoneughed, and Bryan also chuckled appreciatively, then continued,

    "For those who may not know what the Triwizard Tournament entails, allow me to exin, and for those who do know, I ask for your patience as I give a short exnation."

    Bryan paused for dramatic effect, ensuring he had everyone''s rapt attention before continuing. "The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago, in an era when magic was both revered and feared by the Muggle world. It was conceived as a friendlypetition between the threergest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts; Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, located in the Pyrenees mountains of southern France; and the Durmstrang Institute, located in the far north of Europe."

    The students listened with bated breath, many of them hearing about this legendarypetition for the first time.

    "A champion was selected to represent each school," Bryan continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "These chosen few were not merely the most magically gifted of their peers, but also those who exemplified the very best qualities of their respective institutions. Bravery, intelligence, cunning, and loyalty ¨C all were put to the test as the three championspeted in three magical tasks of increasing difficulty and danger."

    A hushed whisper swept through the hall at the mention of danger, but Bryan pressed on.

    "The schools took it in turns to host the tournament every five years. It was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities.

    Incidentally, I met a young witch earlier this year who might be Beauxbatons'' champion. Her skills are quite exceptional for a student. Those of you intending to represent Hogwarts must be mentally prepared for the challenge. Thepetition will be fierce, and the tasks will push you to your very limits."

    <em>''A witch skilled enough to impress Professor Watson?''</em>

    Not just the students from the four Houses below, but even the professors at the staff table turned their heads, showing curiosity.

    Seeing the rising excitement on the faces before him, Bryan knew it was time to temper their enthusiasm with a dose of reality. He raised a hand, calling for silence, and when he spoke again, his voice carried a note of caution.

    "Of course, I must rify one crucial point," he said, his eyes scanning the eager faces before him. "The Triwizard Tournament was discontinued for a very serious reason ¨C one that we must all bear in mind as we move forward with its reinstatement."

    The hall grew quiet once more, sensing the gravity in Bryan''s words. Even the most excited students leaned forward, hanging on his every word.

    "The tournament was halted because there were too many casualties among the young wizards participating in thispetition," Bryan exined, his voice solemn. "The tasks, designed to test the very limits of magical ability, often proved too dangerous. In the worst instance, even the headmasters serving as judges were severely injured."

    A collective gasp echoed through the hall.

    "It is for this reason," Bryan continued, "that when our Ministry''s Department of International Magical Cooperation and Department of Magical Games and Sports submitted the proposal to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament to the International Confederation of Wizards, all parties involved agreed to impose strict safety measures. Chief among these is an age restriction on this year''spetitors. Only students who are of age ¨C that is, seventeen or older ¨C will be allowed to put forward their names for selection."

    The reaction was immediate and intense. A wave of disappointed sighs and vehement protests filled the Hall. Many of the younger students, who had been daydreaming about glory and adventure, now found their hopes dashed.

    At the Gryffindor table, Ron still holding a half-eaten chicken leg, shrugged with forced indifference. "What a shame," he said, his mouth full of food, voice muffled but his disappointment clear. "Looks like we''ll just be spectators, mate."

    Harry nodded, his green eyes flickering towards Hermione. A thought suddenly struck him ¨C how would the Beauxbatons witch praised by Professor Watsonpare to Hermione?

    "¡ªOnce chosen as the representative of one of the three schools, you will bepeting for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of your school, and a personal prize of a thousand Galleons!"

    The mention of such a substantial sum of money caused an immediate uproar again. Ron, who had been sulking moments before, suddenly choked on his chicken. His face turned as red as his hair as he managed to swallow the crumb, sputtering indignantly.

    "That''s not fair!" Ron eximed; his voice hoarse from his near-choking experience but still managing to convey his outrage. The idea of such riches ¨C more money than his family had ever possessed ¨C being dangled just out of reach due to an arbitrary age limit was almost too much for him to bear.

    Bryan didn''t hear Ron''s protest because at that moment, too many people were voicing their objections. Even the younger Slytherin students, who usually supported Professor Watson, weren''t entirely on board with this decision. Over at the Hufflepuff table, Harry even saw some students standing on their benches, loudly protesting.

    Amidst the uproar, Hermione, her brown eyes shing with a mixture of annoyance and concern, red at the students making a fuss.

    "Oh, have these people even understood the situation?" Hermione frowned, her voice sharp with frustration. She turned to Harry and Ron, her expression a mixture of disbelief and anger. "Professor Watson has already emphasized how dangerous this tournament is. Just think about it logically for a moment ¨C if wizards like Professor Dumbledore could get injured trying to control certain out-of-control elements in thepetition, how do they think they could handle these tasks? It''spletely irresponsible!

    I believe that besides the age restriction, the Ministry should at least require participants to have passed their O.W.L.s! That way, we''d ensure that only students with a solid magical foundation would be putting themselves at risk."

    "Oh, shut up, Miss Granger!" George immediately turned and snapped at Hermione. He and Fred had suffered quite a bit over the summer because of their O.W.L. results, So, hearing Hermione mention it was like salt in a fresh wound, instantly setting George on edge.

    But Hermione was not one to back down easily, especially when she believed she was right. She tilted her chin up defiantly, and stared at George with a fierce gaze.

    Fred, sensing the growing tension, decided to diffuse the situation in typical Weasley fashion¨C by plotting mischief.

    "We''ve got to find a way to get around that restriction, right?" Fred winked, his voice low but filled with enthusiasm. "I mean, if we could figure out a way, who''d be willing to try and win some glory for Hogwarts? Just imagine it ¨C eternal fame, a thousand Galleons, and the chance to show everyone what we''re really capable of!"

    Fred''s call to action, spoken with all the charisma of a born troublemaker, received quite a bit of support from those around him. Several students nodded eagerly, their eyes zing with the possibility of adventure and glory. Even Ron, who moments ago had been sulking about the unfairness of it all, seemed to perk up at his brother''s words.

    What was most surprising, however, was the reaction from Neville. The usually timid boy nodded hesitantly, a mix of fear and determination in his round face. This unexpected show of bravery earned him a surprised and angry re from Hermione, who couldn''t believe that even Neville was being swayed by this reckless idea.

    Neville, feeling the weight of Hermione''s disapproving stare, hung his head in shame. But there was a resolve in his voice as he tried to exin himself, pleading for Hermione''s understanding.

    "My gran would definitely want me to enter," Neville said softly, his words barely audible above the continuingmotion in the Hall. "She''s always going on about how I should uphold the family honor. How I should be more like my parents..."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0465 The Letters

    0465 The Letters

    The first day of school always brings with it a whirlwind of unexpected situations. The ancient stone corridors, usually silent and still during the summer months, suddenly burst into life with the excited chatter and hurried footsteps of returning students.

    After indulging in thefortable life during summer vacation, the young wizards eager to reconnect with their ssmates and share tales of their summer adventures found themselves struggling to readjust to the early mornings and structured schedules that seemed so far away just yesterday.

    The second morning of term was notorious for its high rate ofteness. Bleary-eyed students, still caught in the hazy dream of summer, stumbled out of bed far toote, resulting in a mad dash through the castle''s winding corridors. Their panicked faces, flushed with exertion and anxiety, became amon sight as they burst into ssrooms, muttering breathless apologies to stern-faced professors.

    For the wide-eyed first-year wizards, newly arrived at Hogwarts, the challenges were even more daunting. The enormous castle became abyrinth of confusion and wonder. Lost and bewildered, these young students wandered the halls, their small faces a mixture of awe and dismay as they struggled to find their ssrooms amidst the chaos.

    The castle itself seemed to delight in confounding the neers. Staircases shifted without warning, sending unsuspecting first-years stumbling as they tried to maintain their footing. Portraits called out misleading directions, their painted inhabitants chuckled mischievously as the confused students headed off in entirely wrong direction. Even the seemingly solid stone floors were treacherous, with vanishing steps appearing out of nowhere to trap unwary feet.

    The hospital wing quickly became filled with a parade of minor injuries and magical mishaps.

    Throughout the morning, the heads of houses were in a constant state of motion. Professor McGonagall, her usually stern face softened by a hint of sympathy, guided lost Gryffindors back to their tower. Professor Flitwick, barely visible above the sea of students, squeaked out directions to wayward Ravenws. Professor Sprout, her robes still smudged with mud from the greenhouses, patiently redirected Hufflepuffs who''ve wandered too close to the kitchens. Even Professor Snape, his ck robes billowing behind him like storm clouds, could be seen escorting confused Slytherins from the dungeons, his scowl slightly more noticeable than usual.

    Filch too scurried through the halls with even more vigor than usual. His weathered face contorted into a scowl as he mopped up puddles left by rain-soaked students, muttering darkly about mud tracked across freshly cleaned floors, and chasing after Peeves the poltergeist, who seemed to have made it his personal mission to add to the day''s chaos.

    At one point, even Dumbledore, with a cheerful smile, escorted two young wizards who had lost their way to his office back to their proper ssrooms.

    But while the rest of the castle buzzed with the energetic chaos of a new school year, none of this frantic activity seemed to touch Bryan.

    For Bryan, the summer had been a whirlwind of activity. He had traversed between Magical France and Britain, attending meetings, conducting research, andying the groundwork for Triwizard Tournament. The non-stop pace had left him longing for a moment of peace that now was ironically fulfilled after returning to school.

    As the sun rose on this second day of term, Bryan slept until he woke up naturally. The soft morning light filtered through the enchanted windows of his quarters, gradually waking him from his slumber. There was no mad rush to dress, no frantic dash to make it to breakfast on time. Instead, he stretchednguidly, savoring the rare moment of rxation.

    When he finally did emerge from his room, the Great Hall was nearly empty, thest dawdlers to breakfast were hurrying off to their first sses. Bryan helped himself to a leisurely meal, piling his te high with still-warm toast, perfectly scrambled eggs, and crisp bacon. The house-elves, ever attentive, ensured his tea was always hot and his juice ss never empty.

    With breakfast taken care of, Bryan''s next stop was the library. The vast room, usually bustling with students, was eerily quiet at this hour. Madam Pince, the librarian, eyed him suspiciously as he made his way towards the Restricted Section.

    In the dimly lit aisles of the Restricted Section, Bryan''s fingers danced over ancient spines, selecting tomes with titles that would make most students'' heads spin. Dark Detection in the Modern Age, Advanced Theories of Magical Monitoring, and Scrying and Surveince: A Comprehensive Guide were all into his arms.

    With these books Bryan returned to his office. Settling into his favorite armchair, he spread the books out before him.

    The morning passed in a blur of reading and note-taking, punctuated only by the asional sip of tea or bite of a pastry snuck from breakfast. It was not until the clock on his mantelpiece chimed half-past nine that Bryan reluctantly set aside his books and turned his attention to the more mundane aspects of his role at Hogwarts.

    First on his agenda was a note to Hagrid, Bryan''s quill scratched across the parchment as he outlined his requests: arge order of Omniocrs and a diverse collection of alchemy materials. These items, seemingly random to an outside observer, were crucialponents in Bryan''s preparations for the uing Triwizard Tournament.

    In his safety proposal previously submitted to the International Confederation of Wizards'' Competition Review Committee, he mentioned that Hogwarts would adopt a novel method to ensure the participants'' safety, as well as present thepetition progress to spectators in a more intuitive and spectacr way.

    All of this will rely on his monitoring mirrors created with these Omniocrs.

    However, the existing batch of mirrors, had been installed and dismantled repeatedly over the past two years. Between repeated instations and removals, and the unfortunate incident involving Ginny Weasley when she was possessed by Tom Riddle''s soul fragment, nearly half of the original set has been rendered unusable. This new order was essential to ensure Bryan had enough functional Omniocrs to implement his ns for the Tournament.

    As he sealed the note to Hagrid with a dab of wax, Bryan reflected on Dumbledore''s wisdom in assigning most of Hogwarts'' purchasing responsibilities to Hagrid. Hagrid''s unwavering loyalty and simple honesty made him far more reliable in financial matters than someone like Filch, whose bitter character might have led to... creative ounting.

    With the supply request taken care of, Bryan turned his attention to the towering stack of mail that had umted on his desk. Since his rise to fame earlier in the year for eliminating the notorious werewolf pack led by Fenrir Greyback, the volume of letters he receives has increased exponentially. In recent days, the influx has multiplied again.

    Sorting through the pile, Bryan categorized the letters. The majority of these were from his admirers. These ranged from students confessing their undying love to middle-aged witches offering to knit him sweaters. While ttering, these were set aside.

    More intriguing were the letters from renowned wizards in various academic fields. These intellectual letters discussedplex magical theories, posed challenging questions, and invited Bryan to contribute to ongoing research. Despite the temptation to dive into these intellectual discussions, Bryan knew he must prioritize.

    The final category of letters, those from official organizations, needed his immediate attention. Among these was a regr dispatch from Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge. The pretense of this letters was to seek Bryan''s opinion as he was the Senior Advisor to MoM: on recent Ministry decisions supposedly asking for his opinion on their reasonableness, but both sender and recipient know they were nothing more than a courtesy notification.

    Bryan couldn''t manage to reply to every letter like Lockhart did, but there were some important ones he must respond to.

    One letter, in particr, caught Bryan''s eye. The parchment, thick and slightly yellowed with age, beared the seal of Gringotts Bank. More intriguingly, it was from the Paris headquarters rather than the more familiar London branch. Breaking the seal, Bryan unfurled the letter to find an inquiry from an interesting old goblin.

    The goblin''s proposal was straightforward. It was a request to allow Gringotts to advertise at the Triwizard Tournament venue. They offered Hogwarts a generouspensation and subtly expressed to Bryan that his support would not be forgotten.

    Bryan was indeed seeking funds for Hogwarts, so Barna''s proposal did tempt him somewhat. However, after some consideration, he still declined the request in his reply.

    It wasn''t that he couldn''t persuade Dumbledore or find a way to justify this fund to the Board of Governors. Rather, for the first Triwizard Tournament in over a century, Bryan didn''t want too manymercial elements involved. While some level of sponsorship might be unavoidable, anything as tant as what Gringotts proposed felt inappropriate for the asion.

    With a sigh, Bryan penned a polite but firm refusal to the Gringotts representative.

    As the afternoon wore on, Bryan had nned to use the time to refine his teaching n for the next stage of his Physical Education ss.

    However, just as he was settling in to work on his lesson ns, an unexpected letter arrived via a school owl. The bird swooped into his office through an open window, dropping the letter on his desk before perching expectantly on the back of a nearby chair. Bryan recognized the handwriting immediately: <strong>Sirius ck.</strong>

    The contents of Sirius''s letter seemed urgent which prompted Bryan to abandon his carefullyid ns for a day of office work. With a resigned sigh, he penned a quick reply, agreeing to meet Sirius in Hogsmeade.

    Donning a travel cloak, Bryan made his way out of the castle and down the path to Hogsmeade.

    The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade''s popr pub and inn, was rtively quiet when Bryan arrived. The lunch rush had passed, and the dinner crowd had yet to arrive, leaving the warm, wood-paneled roomfortably uncrowded. Madam Rosmerta, the attractive proprietor, greeted Bryan with a wide smile and a knowing wink.

    "The usual, Mr. Watson?" she asked, already reaching for a clean ss.

    Bryan nodded, settling into a cozy booth in the corner. "Green tea, please, Madam Rosmerta. And perhaps some of those excellent ginger newts, if you have any?"

    Rosmerta beamed at thepliment to her baking. "Coming right up, And... I don''t suppose I could trouble you for an autograph? My niece is a huge fan, you see..."

    With a good-natured chuckle, Bryan agreed, scrawling his signature across a piece of parchment Rosmerta produced from her apron pocket. Her face lit up with delight as she tucked the autograph away, promising to return shortly with his order.

    It was not long before the pub''s door swung open again, with Sirius and, somewhat to Bryan''s surprise, Remus entering. The two made their way to Bryan''s booth, Sirius''s face was a mix of anxiety and eagerness, while Remus maintained his usual calm demeanor.

    As Rosmerta returned with Bryan''s tea and biscuits, Sirius ordered a Firewhisky, while Remus opted for a more modest butterbeer. Once the drinks were served and Rosmerta had moved out of earshot, Sirius leaned in, his voice low and urgent.

    "How''s Harry? Is he still angry?"

    Bryan couldn''t help but roll his eyes at the question. "Why would I know that?" he responded, unable to keep a note of irritation from his voice. "I''m not the little guy''s nanny."

    Remus intervened before Sirius could retort. "Sirius had nned to go to King''s Cross yesterday to see Harry off to Hogwarts," he exined, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But he wasn''t sure if Harry was still angry with him. He ended up missing it due to his hesitation."

    "By the time I got there, the Hogwarts Express was long gone!" Sirius eximed, pping the table in frustration. The action causes several nearby patrons to nce over curiously, prompting Remus to ce a calming hand on his friend''s arm.

    Bryan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a gesture of mild exasperation. "I''m busy," he said tly without blushing. "I didn''te here to listen to how you n to resolve your father-son conflict."

    "Bryan is right, Sirius," Remus said, his smile fading as he sat up straight. "It''s the first day of school at Hogwarts, and every professor has a mountain of things to do. We shouldn''t take up too much of his time."

    Remus paused, his amber eyes flickering between Sirius and Bryan before he continued, "Let me start, Bryan. After you told me what you hoped I''d do, I wrote a letter to Dumbledore."

    At the mention of Dumbledore, Bryan''s expression remained neutral, showing none of his thoughts. Remus, interpreting thisck of reaction as tacit approval, breathed a slight sigh of relief before pressing on.

    "Albus gave me some advice," Remus exined, his voice low and measured. "He believes I shouldn''t constrain myself because of Harry. If I think what you''re asking me to do can demonstrate my proper self, then he thinks I should go ahead and do it."

    Bryan nodded slightly. He expected that Remus would consult Dumbledore on this matter. It''s precisely why Bryan had taken the time to speak at length with Dumbledore just two nights prior,ying the groundwork for this very conversation.

    Sirius, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, suddenly straightened up, his grey eyes sharpening with interest. It was clear from his expression that he, too, had made a simr choice to Remus, though perhaps with less hesitation.

    Sensing the shift in mood, Bryan reached into the pocket of his robes.

    "These are two letters of rmendation," Bryan exined sliding the envelopes across the table towards Sirius. "Without letting others find out, show Amelia Bones hers first, then take the other one to Fudge."

    Sirius reached out, his fingers closing around the envelopes.

    "Is this enough?" Sirius asked hesitantly. "I mean... are you sure you don''t need to speak to the Minister of Magic personally?"

    "Don''t worry, it''s fine¡ª" Bryan said calmly, "Cornelius Fudge will understand my meaning. If I were to make the request in person, it would put him in an awkward position."

    "But Madam Bones is known for her fairness in the wizarding world. Will she be willing to let Sirius enter the Auror Office through your connection? And what about Rufus Scrimgeour?" Remus also raised his concerns.

    "Fairness is situational," Bryan patiently exined to Remus. "Although Amelia is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, her control over the Ministry''s most elite magical armed forces is limited. I''m writing to her simply to inform her that Sirius is being introduced by me, and she will understand and support it. As for Rufus Scrimgeour, this matter only requires Fudge''s approval, and it''s not yet time for him to interfere."

    Bryan looked at Sirius, who was listening intently, and paused before continuing, "You don''t need to think too much about conspiracies and schemes. Once you enter the Auror Office, just focus on demonstrating your abilities. If any situation arises, feel free to write to me anytime."

    With these words of reassurance, Bryan nced towards the window, noting the position of the sun in the sky. The afternoon has worn on, and dinner time at Hogwarts was likely approaching. Recognizing the need to return to the castle, Bryan rose from his seat, bidding a quick farewell to Sirius and Remus before hurrying out of the Three Broomsticks.

    Left alone in the booth, Sirius and Remus were looking at each other withplex emotions.

    "When I was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts in the first half of the year, I even discussed with some young Gryffindor wizards about what NEWT scores were needed to be an Auror¡ª" Sirius looked at the letter of Rmendation in his hand, shaking his head with emotion.

    "That''s because the Ministry clearly recognizes that they don''t have many means to constrain a powerful wizard like Bryan. A powerful wizard in his early twenties..." Remus''s expression was equallyplex. "We should be grateful that Bryan is on our side. Otherwise, even with Dumbledore¡ª"

    "The Ministry is much more at ease with Dumbledore¡ª" Siriusughed scornfully, seemingly thinking of something. "They probably think Dumbledore only has his reputation left to scare people, but in reality, he''s too old to even wave his wand¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0466 The News

    0466 The News

    The dreary clouds had finally parted, but Harry''s first day back at Hogwarts was far from joyous he had hoped for. The morning''s Herbology ss, shared with the friendly Hufflepuffs, had been rtively bearable. Professor Sprout had tasked them with the rather disgusting but straightforward job of squeezing pus from Bubotubers - nt-like creatures that bore creepy resemnce to thick, ck slugs. The viscous, yellowish-green liquid that oozed from the swollen lumps was, ording to Professor Sprout, "Extremely valuable! Undiluted Bubotuber pus is an excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of e."

    However, the morning took a sharp turn for the worse during their Care of Magical Creatures ss. Hagrid had a penchant for dangerous creatures that he affectionately referred to as "interestin''." True to this, Hagrid had prepared what he clearly thought was a delightful surprise for his students. With barely contained excitement, he unveiled histest creation: <strong>st-Ended Skrewts.</strong>

    These bizarre creatures defied easy description. Pale and shell-less, they resembled deformed, headless lobsters. Ranging from six to eight inches long, they emitted a powerful odor simr to rotting fish. Sparks flew from their rear ends at irregr intervals, propelling them forward with small explosions. The male Skrewts possessed stingers, while the females had sucker-like appendages on their bellies probably for sucking blood.

    As if their appearance wasn''t rming enough, the Skrewts quickly proved to be as dangerous as they were ugly. Their unpredictable nature meant that no student left Hagrid''s ss unscathed. Some had red burns from the Skrewts'', others nursed puncture wounds from the males'' stingers, and some ones were on the receiving end of surprisingly strong bites from what appeared to be the creatures'' feeding end. Even Hagrid, with his thick skin and enormous body, didn''t escape unscathed, sporting a nasty burn on his hand by the end of the lesson.

    The afternoon brought little breather. Professor Trwney''s Divination ss was held in the muggy, perfumeden North Tower. By the time the ss mercifully ended, Harry had gained nothing but a throbbing headache and a mountain of homework that will consume his entire weekend.

    As the final bell rang, signaling the end of sses, Harry and Ron both in low spirits shuffled towards the Great Hall and queued in line for the evening feast. The entrance hall was buzzing with the chatter of hungry students, all eager for the evening feast.

    "I was just about to look for you, Harry!"

    The familiar voice cut through the ruckus, and Harry turned to see Hermione descending the grand staircase. Her bushy brown hair was even more baggy than usual, likely from the day''s humid air, and she was overloaded with an intimidating stack of thick, leather-bound tomes. Her brown eyes, sharp and inquisitive, quickly took in the dejected postures of her two friends.

    "What''s going on? Are you nning to eat first?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. She shifted the weight of the books in her arms, revealing the title of one: Advanced Arithmancy and Its Applications in Modern Spell Crafting. It was clearly not a text intended for fourth-year students. "Don''t we usually do Professor Watson''s running exercises before dinner?"

    Harry couldn''t help but marvel at Hermione''s seemingly boundless energy and dedication to her studies. Since the start of term, it seemed she had taken on even more extracurricr reading than usual. Not only was she carrying a towering stack of books, but her bag - enchanted to be lighter and more spacious than it appeared - was visibly straining at the seams with additional weight. A quick nce at the spines showed titles far beyond their current curriculum: "Temporal Magic: Theory and Ethics," "Comparative Magical Law: From Merlin to Modern Day," and "The Alchemist''s Apprentice: Nics mel''s Lesser-Known Discoveries."

    Before Harry could voice a response to Hermione''s question, Ron interjected, his freckled face a picture of exaggerated weariness:

    "Harry needs rest, Hermione, to recover from the fatigue of this grueling day and to mourn our weekend that''s over before it even began¡ª"

    "That''s right," Harry nodded sincerely, grateful for Ron''s intervention. The thought of runningps around the Quidditch pitch after the day they''d had was almost too much to bear.

    Hermione''s eyebrow arched skeptically, clearly unimpressed by Ron''s theatrics. However, a flicker of understanding crossed her face. She was well aware that not everyone shared her enthusiasm for constant self-improvement, and that ''normal'' young wizards often needed time to adjust to the rigorous demands of higher-level magical education. With a small sigh, she decided not to press the issue and instead joined the queue alongside her friends.

    Just as Hermione, the PE ss assistant, was about to remind Harry that he wouldn''t be allowed to make excuses to avoid daily training after dinner, a grating all-too-familiar voice suddenly rang out from behind them.

    "Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

    The trio turned simultaneously, their faces immediately hardening at the sight of Draco swaggering into the entrance hall, nked by his ever-present cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy was panting, with strands of hair stuck to his forehead, evidently having just returned from the Quidditch pitch.

    What struck Harry as odd, however, was that Malfoy''s eyes weren''t fixed on him, as they usually were. Instead, his gaze was locked firmly on Ron. Harry and Hermione exchanged a quick, worried nce before noticing the folded newspaper clutched in Malfoy''s hand. A sense of foreboding settled over them; whatever was printed on those pages, it couldn''t be good news for Ron.

    "What?" Ron asked warily, his body tensing as if preparing for a physical exchange.

    Malfoy''s thin lips curved into a smug smile. He cleared his throat with exaggerated importance, pitching his voice to carry across the now-hushed entrance hall.

    "There''s something interesting!" Malfoy said unfolding the newspaper with a curl. The bold headline of the Daily Prophet was briefly visible before he began to read aloud:

    "New Chaos at the Ministry of Magic¡ªOur special correspondent Rita Skeeter writes that due to the bizarre behavior of Arthur Weasley from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, the Ministry has once again found itself in an awkward position following the Quidditch World Cup attack and the unexined disappearance of a female employee¡ª"

    Harry''s mind raced, processing the information. The mention of Mr. Weasley barely registered before his thoughtstched onto the phrase "female employee disappearance." A chill ran down his spine as he recalled the conversations between Mr. Weasley and Professor Watson. Hadn''t they informed the Ministry about Bertha Jorkins'' fate at the hands of Voldemort? Why was it still being referred to as an "unexined disappearance"?

    Among the Hogwarts poption, quite a few students and staff members subscribed to the Daily Prophet. Hermione was also one such subscriber. The moment Malfoy began his recitation, she instinctively reached out to grab Ron''s sleeve, her fingers curling into the fabric of his robes.

    "Let''s go, Ron," she whispered urgently, her brown eyes darting between her friend''s reddening face and the growing crowd of onlookers. "Ignore Malfoy, he''s just a boring clown¡ª"

    But Ron stood his ground, his jaw clenched and freckles standing out starkly against his rapidly paling skin. He was determined to hear every word of the article, no matter how painful. Hermione, realizing the futility of trying to move Ron, turned to Harry with a pleading look. To her dismay, she found that Harry, too, was listening intently to Malfoy''s words.

    The next thirty seconds felt like an eternity as Malfoy continued to read, his voice dripping with mock concern and barely concealed glee. When he finally finished, he folded the newspaper with exaggerated care, his pale, pointed face had a triumphant grin. With a theatrical flourish, he held up the front page, disying arge photograph to the half-silent, half-murmuring crowd of young wizards in the entrance hall who were pointing at Ron.

    "Look at this," Malfoy squealed. "A picture of your parents standing in front of your house¡ªif you can call that a house!"

    Malfoy''s eyes glittered maliciously as he delivered what he clearly thought was the coup de grace (<em>death-blow</em>): "And your mother¡ªshe could do with losing some weight, don''t you think? She might look a bit more respectable then."

    Ron''s entire body began to shake with suppressed rage, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his sides. The gathered students alternated between staring at Ron and shooting furtive nces at Malfoy.

    "Get lost, Malfoy," Harry, snapping out of his focused state, finally registered the silent message Hermione had been trying to convey with her increasingly frantic looks. "It''s not worth getting angry, Ron."

    "Hey, Potter," Malfoy sneered, his smirk growing wider. "Your oversized head at the Quidditch World Cup was much more interesting than usual. Pity the <em>Daily Prophet</em> didn''t add your picture to the front page too!"

    Harry''s emerald eyes shed dangerously behind his sses. "Is that so?" he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "What about your parents, Malfoy? Shouldn''t they also make an appearance for their mischievous little activities at the World Cup final?"

    He leaned in, his voice cold. "If they were to make the paper, what background would fit? Your house certainly wouldn''t be appropriate. No, I think Azkaban would be quite fitting!"

    The noisy entrance hall suddenly fell silent. Everyone turned their gaze to Harry, taking several seconds to react to what Potter had just said.

    "Shut up, Harry¡ª" Hermione hissed, her eyes wide with rm as she took in the bewildered and curious looks from their fellow students. She tugged insistently on his sleeve, her voice tight with worry. "This isn''t the ce to discuss this. There''s no evidence, and¡ª"

    But Malfoy''s outraged howl drowned out her words. "How dare you insult my parents, Potter!"

    Draco''s normally pale face had turned an even starker shade of white, a vein pulsing angrily at his temple.He clearly understood what Harry was implying, but his eyes showed disbelief, as if he genuinely didn''t know about it.

    Harry, caught up in the heat of the moment, couldn''t resist twisting the knife further. "What''s wrong?" he taunted with his green eyes zing. "Didn''t they fill you in on their clever little schemes?"

    People''s attention quickly shifted from ''Arthur Weasley'' to what Harry was referring to. Even Ron noticed the unusual atmosphere in the entrance hall and realized what it was about. Hermione, sensing the situation spiraling out of control, moved swiftly. She walked behind the two boys who were standing there dumbly, grabbed an arm each, and without a word, tried to drag them away.

    "Wait, exin yourself clearly, Potter!" Malfoy howled.

    Hermione, her patience finally snapping, whirled around to face Malfoy. "Shut your mouth, Malfoy!" she yelled, her cheeks flushed with anger and exertion as she continued to pull her friends away.

    <strong>BANG!</strong>

    The sudden, explosive sound shattered the tense atmosphere. Several students screamed in surprise and fear. Harry felt something white-hot graze his cheek, leaving a trail of searing heat in its trail. His hand instinctively flew to his robe pocket, fingers scrabbling for his wand, but before he could draw it, a gravelly roar echoed through the entrance hall:

    "Oh no you don''t, boy!"

    Harry, Hermione, and Ron spun around to see Professor Moody limping down the marble staircase. He had his wand out and both his normal and magical eyes were fixed on the entrance, looking somewhat surprised.

    "Nice dodge, boy," Moody growled, his normal eye fixed on Harry while his magical eye continued its frenzied rotation. "But let''s see where you''re going to hide!"

    Harry immediately turned his gaze to the entrance and saw that the marble tile where Malfoy had been standing was smoking Crabbe and Goyle stood frozen in shock, their bulky frames quivering like oversized jellies. But Malfoy himself was nowhere to be seen.

    A sh of movement caught Harry''s eye, and he spotted white-blond hair disappearing through the main doors. Malfoy was fleeing.

    "Did he get you?" Moody''s gruff voice cut through Harry''s stunned silence. The professor had reached the bottom of the stairs and was now standing beside the trio, his magical eye fixed on the running Malfoy.

    "No," Harry replied nkly. "Missed me."

    Without another word, Moody moved past Harry, pushing aside the terrified Crabbe and Goyle. With a grim face, he raised his wand high, and as he stepped out the door, he brought it down again!

    <strong>SNAP!</strong>

    The sound was like a thunderp in the confined space of the entrance hall. A visible wave of magical energy surged from Moody''s wand, rushing towards the open doors like an invisible tidal wave. The force of the spell was so great that it created a powerful gust of wind, whipping through the hall and causing tapestries to p wildly and loose parchments to take flight.

    Harry, caught off guard, struggled to keep his eyes open against the rushing air. His sses were nearly blown off his face, and he had to reach up quickly to secure them. The crowd of students queuing for dinner behind them let out a collective gasp of surprise.

    "What''s going on?" Hermione immediately questioned when she regained herposure.

    As the dust settled and vision cleared, all eyes turned expectantly towards the entrance. Professor Moody stood motionless at the threshold, his wand still pointed towards the marble steps outside. The tension in the air was palpable as students craned their necks, trying to see past the imposing figure of their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

    "What are you doing--" came a voice from the bottom of the steps. Bryan nced at the visibly shaken Draco hiding behind him, raised an eyebrow, and calmly looked towards the entrance, lowering his wand. "Professor Moody?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0467 Actions (Large Chapter)

    0467 Actions (Large Chapter)

    "Stand aside, Watson!" Moody growled in a low voice, his magical eye fixed intently on Bryan. "I need to teach this despicable little brat a lesson!"

    Like ripples on ake disturbed by a gentle breeze, Bryan narrowed his eyes slightly. His reaction wasn''t to Moody''s rude words, but to that magical eye. As an aplished alchemist, Bryan could see that this special eye had intricate magical runes etched inside, constantly pulsing with magic to detect the surroundings and ry information back to its user.

    While ordinary wizards might find this eye quite frightening, for Bryan¡ªwho possessed an incredibly powerful innate ability to sense magic, whose perception of magic can even beparable to sight¡ªit felt like someone was examining him with a magnifying ss pressed against his face, trying to peel away his clothes. One can imagine how ufortable this sensation was.

    "Help, Professor Watson!" Draco peeked out from behind Bryan. It was clear that he had been truly frightened by Moody''s fierce and unreasonable behavior. His face was pale, and tears were welling up in his eyes. "This madman wants to kill me!"

    <em><strong>Whoosh!</strong></em>

    Suddenly, a thumb-thick rope shot out from the tip of Moody''s wand. After leaving the wand, this agile rope coiled itself, gathering strength, then lunged forward, aiming to loop around Draco''s neck and drag him out from behind Bryan.

    Bryan, who had been turning his head to look at Draco, didn''t even nce back. He casually waved his wand behind him. Before the young wizards pouring out of the entrance hall could see what had happened, Professor Moody''s conjured rope had already dissipated into a wisp of ck smoke, scattered by the wind.

    "I''m sure you understand," Bryan said, turning back to face Moody, "that this has gone beyond the scope of a joke, Professor Moody."

    "Oh, are you going to shield this despicable little wretch, Watson?"

    Bryan''s warning didn''t deter Moody; if anything, it seemed to enrage him further. Moody stepped over the threshold, onto the top of the marble staircase, pointing his wand at Bryan and Draco as he snarled, "I''d like to see how you n to stop¡ª"

    Bryan''s face finally darkened. He stood still, his wrist twirling deftly. Then, a red orb of light the size of a Bludger, crackling with crimson electricity, erupted from his wand tip. It swiftly flew to hover above the middle of the marble staircase!

    "Oh, that spell!" Angelina from the Gryffindor Quidditch team gasped, covering her mouth, from among the spectators inside the doorway.

    Moody''s magical eye quivered violently. Suddenly, the surface of the floating red orb rippled, and then¡ª

    Recognizing the imminent threat, Moody reacted with the speed and precision that had kept him alive through countless dark wizard encounters. He swung his wand in a horizontal arc, conjuring a shield of countless red sparks that glittered like shattered stars in the air before him. But this was only a prelude to the true attack.

    The orb unleashed its fury. Beam after beam of intense scarlet light erupted from its surface, each one powerful enough to rival the most potent stunning spells. They mmed into Moody''s hastily erected defenses with relentless force. Though he managed to block these searingnces of magical energy, it didn''t mean he could easily absorb the impact of the spells!

    <strong>Bang, bang, bang!</strong>

    The young wizards hiding in the entrance hall watched as Moody continuously waved his wand to block the sessive beams of red light. However, the powerful force still pushed him back step by step, forcibly driving him back into the entrance hall!

    "What are you doing?!" A surprised voice suddenly came from the staircase on one side of the entrance hall. It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a few books, looking astonished at the unfolding scene.

    <strong>Whoosh¡ª</strong>

    At the sound of Professor McGonagall''s voice, Bryan''s concentration broke. The floating orb vanished in an instant, leaving behind only a faint afterimage in the eyes of those who had been watching it too closely. Moody, no longer under assault, sagged against the grand doorframe. His breathing wasbored, chest heaving beneath his travel-worn cloak. The scars on his face seemed even more noticeable as his face twitched repeatedly, whether from exertion or barely contained rage, it was hard to tell.

    Professor McGonagall recovered quickly from her initial shock and hurried down the stairs. In her haste, she nearly lost her footing. It was only the unexpected presence of Colin Creevey and his ever-present camera that saved her from a nasty fall. Using his neck to steady herself, Professor McGonagall regained her bnce.

    After hastily apologizing to Colin, McGonagall roughly pushed through the crowd to Moody''s side. She first examined Moody''s entire body, ensuring he hadn''t lost any more body parts, then took a deep breath.

    When she spoke, her voice quavered with barely contained anger, a tone that her students knew all too well as a prelude to serious consequences. "Bryan, and stor, please tell me what exactly you two are doing!"

    "He tried to kill me!" Before either of thebatants could respond, Draco quick-witted as ever, immediately darted out from behind Bryan. His pale face was in manufactured innocence as he jabbed an using finger at Moody. "It''s this madman! Professor Watson was only defending me!"

    "You''re talking nonsense, Malfoy!" Ron yelled, straining his voice. "You attacked Harry first!"

    The entrance hall began to fall into chaos once more as students from different houses began to take sides, their voices rising in usations and defenses.

    "Silence, all of you!" Professor McGonagall''s face was ashen. She nced at Bryan and stor, who were still staring at each other, breathed heavily a few times, then fixed her gaze on Hermione. "Alright, Miss Granger, you saw everything, didn''t you? Exin what happened!"

    Ron quickly and discreetly jabbed Hermione''s arm, earning himself an angry re from Professor McGonagall!

    With so many witnesses to the events, Hermione couldn''t possibly cover for anyone. She recounted the incident from start to finish in full detail.

    "The first day of school hasn''t even ended, and this happens!" Professor McGonagall fumed. "Slytherin loses twenty points. Mr. Malfoy, two days of detention. I''ll inform Severus to handle your punishment!"

    Harry barely had time to feel relieved and happy before he noticed Professor McGonagall turning her gaze on him. His heart sank immediately.

    "The same goes for you, Mr. Potter!"

    After announcing his punishment, she looked at the growing crowd of students in the entrance hall and sternly added, "Everyone, go eat! Don''t stand around here!"

    No one dared to defy Professor McGonagall when she was this angry. The young wizards scattered in a flurry, including Harry and his friends, as well as Draco, who slunk dejectedly into the Great Hall after a nod from Bryan.

    "Professor Moody!" With the entrance hall finally cleared, Professor McGonagall stared at the now-recovered Moody, her lips pressed tightly together. "Regarding your use of magic to attack a student¡ª"

    "It was just Transfiguration. I thought a good scare would teach that despicable, dirty little brat a lesson¡ª" Moody said dismissively.

    "Transfiguration or not¡ª" Professor McGonagall said wearily, "If we believe a student''s behavior needs punishment, we can deduct points or assign detention, or report to the Head of their House. I''m sure Dumbledore must have told you this¡ª"

    "Perhaps¡ª" Moody pulled out his sk from his waist, took severalrge gulps, and grunted. Then he looked warily at Bryan, who wasing up the marble staircase, as if still expecting Bryan to raise his wand and hit him with something nasty.

    Professor McGonagall, sensing the lingering hostility, turned her attention to Bryan.

    "And Bryan¡ª" Professor McGonagall frowned, seemingly pondering how to reprimand him. But after some thought, she apparently couldn''t find much to criticize him for. "Next time, you should at least try to understand the situation first, and then be a bit gentler, Bryan. Professor Moody is your colleague, not a dark wizard you need to deal with¡ª"

    "Regarding thetter point, I reserve my judgment¡ª" Bryan said coolly.

    He didn''t care much about how that Draco had started trouble with Harry and his friends again; they always found reasons to create conflicts with each other. But there were some things he had to point out.

    "You might still retain some habits from your professional days, Professor Moody, but I must point out that not everyone enjoys being scrutinized by a magical eye. Furthermore, as the Head of Hogwarts Student Safety Office, I''m not entirely satisfied with your exnation for actively attacking Draco Malfoy. I believe it''s necessary for me to observe your daily sses. If the content doesn''t meet my satisfaction, I don''t rule out the possibility of requesting your departure from Hogwarts."

    "Are you threa¡ª" Moody''s face contorted with anger. He instinctively wanted to retaliate, but for some reason, facing Bryan Watson''s expressionless face, he stopped mid-sentence. Finally, he grudgingly muttered the word <strong><em>''Wee''</em></strong> before turning and leaving abruptly.

    "stor was invited by Albus, Bryan. We should at least try to be friendly¡ª" While McGonagall clearly sided more with Bryan on the matter at hand, she still feltpelled to say this.

    "I''ve already taken that into consideration, Professor McGonagall¡ª" Bryan spread his hands, feigning innocence.

    <strong>...</strong>

    <em><strong>*Scenebreak*</strong></em>

    The duel between Professor Watson and Professor Moody took ce in the entrance hall before dinner. Many young wizards witnessed the battle, while those who missed the spectacle learned about it during dinner discussions.

    Students were no longer concerned about what caused the conflict between the two professors, but rather became fascinated by the duel itself. Undoubtedly, Professor Watson emerged victorious, which surprised no one. Given his numerous impressive performances over the past two years, it would have been astonishing if he had lost in a confrontation with someone else.

    Professor Moody was absent from the staff table, leading some to believe he was too embarrassed to show his face after losing to Professor Watson. However, Neville, who had just returned from a breathless run around the Quidditch pitch, informed everyone that Moody was patrolling the school grounds.

    "No wonder Dad speaks so highly of Professor Moody¡ª" Ron eximed to those around him, "You know what I mean, right?"

    "Everyone knows what you mean, ickle Ronniekins," George said kindly.

    Harry sat with his head down, staring intently at the patterns on his silver goblet, lost in thought.

    "What''s on your mind, Harry??" Hermione, noticing Harry''s somber mood, asked quietly. " Are you still thinking about Professor Watson helping Malfoy?"

    "I don''t understand¡ª" Harry began, as if a floodgate had opened, "Did you hear what that Skeeter woman from the Daily Prophet said? The Ministry still believes Bertha Jorkins is just missing, but how can that be? They''ve already caught that woman Cliodna with Professor Watson''s help, haven''t they? If they''d interrogated her properly, they should know that Voldemort killed her.

    Hermione''s eyes widened at the mention of the Voldemort''s name, but she didn''t interrupt.

    "And they''re still iming that Cliodna and those masked wizards are working together," Harry continued, his voice rising slightly with each word. "But it''s obvious they don''t even know each other! Even if the Ministry''s got it all wrong, Professor Watson knows everything. He has to. So why isn''t he-"

    "Oh, shut up, Harry!" Hermione, who had been listening patiently, suddenly interrupted, looking nervously towards the front of the Great Hall. "Professor Watson ising this way!"

    "stor has fought evil his entire life, and as you can see, he has suffered much persecution in this long struggle, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore was saying. Though no one had reported to him about the earlier incident in the entrance hall, he seemed to know everything upon arriving at the Great Hall from his office. He patiently consoled Bryan.

    "He has a low tolerance for certain behaviors. Of course, his use of magic to discipline young wizards was indeed inappropriate, but that doesn''t mean hecks control over his emotions or is unstable, as you might think."

    "Heh, our beloved Headmaster has always been very amodating of those with special talents¡ª" Snape, who had overheard thesements, sneered from the side.

    Bryan didn''t speak, but looked at Professor Snape with slight surprise.

    "But be careful, Bryan. That madman considers everyone a Dark wizard except Dumbledore. Your good reputation means nothing to him. He might even demand to search your office and luggage next¡ª"

    "What? Has Professor Moody made such a request of you?" Bryan asked, somewhat astonished.

    Snape''s sallow face darkened further, his lips pressing into a thin line that practically disappeared. Dumbledore, who apparently already knew about this, didn''t seem particrly surprised. He only looked at Professor Snape with a hint of apology.

    "I''ve already emphasized to stor that you are trustworthy, Severus."

    "Oh, how honored I am to have earned your trust, Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape said coldly.

    Neither Bryan nor Professor Snape would change their personal opinions of Mad-Eye Moody based on Dumbledore''s words. Dumbledore knew this well and, after sighing helplessly, said no more.

    The atmosphere at the staff table was a bit stiff. Bryan, disliking such an environment, wiped his mouth with a napkin and left his seat. Instead of returning to his office, he walked down to the Gryffindor table.

    As he passed, the discussions at the table fell silent, as if hit by a Silencing Charm. The young wizards all turned curious gazes towards him.

    "May I have a word, Harry?" Bryan said, standing behind Harry.

    "Oh, of course, Professor Watson!" Harry scrambled to his feet, nearly knocking over his goblet in his haste.

    "And you too, Hermione. I have something to discuss with you as well. Come to my office¡ª" Bryan said then looking at Hermione, who had her head down, pouring gravy over her baked potato trying (and failing) to look as though she hadn''t been eavesdropping.

    Hermione''s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly gathered her wits and stood up. "Yes, Professor,"

    Both Hermione and Harry hurriedly got up and followed Professor Watson towards the entrance hall. Across the table, Ron, realizing he hadn''t been invited, disappointedly put down his cutlery and watched the three leave, his cheeks puffing out.

    Although it was only September, in Hogwarts, nestled among dark mountains and waters, the wind that wandered through the ancient castle after nightfall already carried the chill ofte autumn. Harry and Hermione both got goosebumps as the wind hit them, while the climate change had little effect on powerful wizards like Bryan.

    As they walked along the second-floor corridor, Bryan paused briefly, his gaze directed towards the spacious grounds. He narrowed his eyes for a few seconds before moving on.

    "Professor Moody," Harry whispered to Hermione, pointing towards a limping figure barely visible in the dim light spilling from Hagrid''s hut. "He''s still patrolling?"

    They were already familiar with Professor Watson''s office. Upon reaching the office, Harry and Hermione made their way to the familiar sofa without being told. Professor Watson, rather than taking his usual seat behind the desk, joined them on the sofa.

    "It''s like this¡ª" Bryan looked at Harry. "This afternoon, I met with Sirius in Hogsmeade."

    Harry''s eyes immediately widened with anticipation.

    Bryan sank into the soft sofa and smiled, "He came for two main reasons. First, he wanted me to convey his apologies regarding the argument you two had during the summer holidays."

    "Why couldn''t he tell me himself?" Harry said indignantly.

    "Haha, I didn''t ask¡ª" Bryan chuckled meaningfully at Harry, whose expression showed the unique rebelliousness of adolescence. "But I suppose it''s for the same reason you''re unwilling to apologize to him directly."

    Harry''s face turned bright red, pretending not to notice Hermione covering her mouth to stifle augh. He quickly changed the subject, "What''s the second thing, Professor Watson?"

    "The second matter actually doesn''t concern you, but considering Sirius is your godfather, I think you have the right to know¡ª" Bryan''s smile faded as he spoke calmly, "Sirius has decided to join the Ministry and be an Auror. You know what Aurors are, don''t you, Harry? Professor Moody was one before he retired."

    Harry nodded instinctively, but when he truly realized what he had heard, his mouth fell open in shock, gasping for air.

    "Sirius... an Auror? But... how? Why would he want to do that?"

    "It''s not that surprising. Sirius is a capable adult wizard with exceptional magical skills. Now that he''s cleared his name, it''s only natural for him to seek out a way to put his skills to use and find his ce in the wizarding world once more. Think about Headmaster Dumbledore¡ªhe''s still working at over a hundred and ten years old."

    "But¡ª" Harry closed his open mouth, his emerald eyes glimmering with worry in the yellowmplight.

    Aurors were tasked withbating Dark wizards, and Harry had a firsthand understanding of how dangerous this job could be from Professor Moody''s condition. Sirius wasn''t like Professor Watson or Professor Dumbledore, who could handle any situation. On the night of the Quidditch final, when those three masked wizards appeared in their box, Sirius had struggled to deal with them. In fact, if Cliodna hadn''t helped him, he might have met with misfortune that night!

    Harry suddenly felt an urgent need to return to his dormitory and write to Sirius, advising him to reconsider carefully. But even as this thought formed, another part of him argued that if this was truly what Sirius wanted, Harry should offer his full support.

    These two thoughts battled in Harry''s mind, leaving him unable to decide for the moment.

    Sensing Harry''s inner turmoil, Bryan didn''t press the issue further. Instead, he turned his attention to Hermione, who had been listening to the exchange with rapt attention.

    "Hermione, I wanted to ask you about the progress of everyone''s training?"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0468 Explanations

    0468 Exnations

    "Training progress?"

    Hermione was also wondering why Sirius had suddenly joined the Ministry of Magic, especially since their previous conversations had made it clear that Sirius didn''t particrly appreciate Cornelius Fudge as the Minister. She reflexively echoed the question back, then quickly caught herself.

    "Oh, right, training progress!"

    As she faced Professor Watson, whose piercing gaze seemed to look right through her, Hermione felt a familiar tension creep into her shoulders. In the span of a heartbeat, she mentally cataloged everyone''s performance during their recent training sessions. The recollection, however, did little to ease her nerves. If anything, it intensified the slight shame that colored her cheeks a faint pink.

    "No one has managed to reach the finish line while under attack from the Dungbombs, Professor¡ª" Hermione began, her voice trailing off as she braced herself for the harsh criticism she was sure would follow.

    To her surprise, Professor Watson''s response was not the sharp rebuke she had anticipated. Instead, he merely nodded slightly, his expression inscrutable as he continued to look at her with those intense eyes.

    Encouraged by theck of immediate disappointment, Hermione took a deep, steadying breath. The scent of old parchment and magical herbs that permeated the office helped to calm her racing heart. With renewedposure, sheunched into a detailed report of her ssmates'' progress.

    The best performer was no longer Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff; in fact, he only ranked third. Luna hade closest to the finish line without being hit by Dungbombs, while Neville ranked second. Of course, she and Harry''s performances were also among the top.

    Bryan wasn''t particrly surprised by this result, just slightly disappointed as he clicked his tongue.

    "I had originally nned to end your training by mid-term, but now it seems we might need to extend the time¡ª"

    Noticing Hermione''s crestfallen expression as she lowered her head, her gaze fixing on the intricately carved coffee table before her, Bryan''s tone softened. Hermione''s hands, now clenched into tight fists resting on herp, dispalyed the guilt she felt at what she perceived as their collective failure.

    "There''s no need to feel guilty, Hermione," Bryan reassured her, his voice gentle yet firm. "I''m not ming you or anyone else. This was never going to be an easy task, which is precisely why I selected who I considered to be the most talented young wizards to join. Moving forward, this ss will have new content to challenge and push you all even further."

    At these words, both Harry and Hermione perked up visibly. The mention of Professor Watson''s ss brought back vivid memories of how it had already benefited them. Without this specialized training, who knows what terrible situation might have befallen them on that night of the Quidditch final!

    Neither of them took Professor Watson''s ss lightly. When they heard there would be new content, Harry immediately stopped his train of thought and looked at Professor Watson expectantly.

    "I''ll divulge the details on Wednesday evening," Bryan said with his enigmatic smile, clearly enjoying the suspense he was creating. "For now, you can return to your other pursuits¡ª"

    Recognizing the dismissal for what it was, Harry rose to his feet. Hermione followed suit, smoothing out her robes as she stood. They made their way towards the heavy oak door, But as Harry''s fingers closed around the cool doorknob, a nagging thought tugged at his mind. This was a rare opportunity ¨C a chance to get answers from the one person who seemed to know everything that was going on. If he didn''t ask now, who knew when he''d get another chance to clear up the confusion that had been guing him?

    "Professor Watson¡ª" Harry turned, his voice soft. His eyes found Professor Watson by the firece, where he was carefully pouring a stream of green tea into a delicate porcin cup. "May I ask you some questions?"

    Bryan looked up, the firelight dancing in his eyes as a smile appeared across his lips. "Helping students resolve their confusion is a professor''s duty. I don''t see why not¡ª" He gently blew on the floating leaves in his teacup, creating tiny ripples across the surface of the steaming liquid.

    Hermione immediately realized that Harry''s questions wouldn''t be about magical theory or spellwork. She knew he wanted to ask about what he had mentioned earlier in the Great Hall. While part of her wanted to urge caution, her own curiosity won out, and she remained silent, equally eager to hear the answers.

    Harry took a deep breath, gathering his courage. The words tumbled out in a rush, as if he feared losing his nerve if he hesitated.

    "Bertha Jorkins¡ª" he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "You know she''s already dead, don''t you? Killed by Voldemort and that witch who''s with him, the one you captured and imprisoned in Azkaban. She knows about this too, but the newspapers say the Ministry still believes Bertha Jorkins is missing¡ª"

    Bryan remained quiet for several long moments, his fingers tracing the rim of his teacup thoughtfully. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and leisurely.

    "Surely that''s not the only thing you''re confused about," he said, a knowing glint in his eye. "Why don''t you share all that''s on your mind?"

    Encouraged by this invitation, Harry and Hermione exchanged a quick nce before returning to the sofa. As they settled back into their seats, the leather creaking softly beneath them, Harry began to pour out all the questions that had been swirling in his mind.

    His words came in a torrent, each question tumbling after the other in rapid session.

    When Harry finally fell silent, slightly out of breath from his rapid-fire questions, Bryan didn''t immediately respond. Instead, he lowered his gaze, his fingertips caressing the hot rim of his teacup. His deep, light purple eyes seemed to be searching for answers in the swirling leaves floating in the golden-green liquid.

    After a long while, Bryan spoke, his voice quiet but clear in the hushed office. "What do you think is the purpose of an organization like the Ministry of Magic?"

    <em>''The purpose of the Ministry of Magic?''</em>

    The question caught both Harry and Hermione off guard. Harry blinked in confusion, his green eyes widening behind his round sses. He nced at Hermione, hoping she might have some understanding into this seemingly unrted enquiry.

    Hermione, for her part, furrowed her brow in deep thought. Her mind raced through everything she had read about magical governance and bureaucracy. After a moment of contemtion, her expression cleared, and she rxed her furrowed brow.

    "The Ministry of Magic is an organization responsible for managing wizards, Professor," she began, her voice taking on the familiar tone she often used when answering questions in ss. "I think the purpose of its existence is to maintain order within the magicalmunity."

    Bryan''s face lit up with approval. "If this were a ss, I would definitely award Gryffindor five points, Hermione¡ª" he said, his admiration for the bright young witch evident in his voice. "Yes, that''s exactly right. The primary purpose of the Ministry of Magic is to maintain order in wizarding society, or perhaps more urately, to maintain stability."

    He paused, letting his words sink in before continuing. "And all of your questions, varied as they may seem, point to one central issue - Voldemort."

    At the mention of the name, Hermione instinctively tensed, her shoulders contracting slightly.

    Harry, however, still struggled to see the connection. "But what does that matter¡ª" he pressed; his frustration evident in his voice. "He''s still alive, and many people know that fact."

    "Knowing doesn''t always equate to willingness to face the truth, Harry," Bryan said calmly. "The majority of the Ministry Officials believe that although Voldemort isn''t dead, you''ve thoroughly defeated him. They picture him hiding in some dark corner abroad, never daring to return to this country."

    He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked with Harry''s. "But if they were to learn that Voldemort isn''t as weakened as they imagine, that there''s a real possibility he might regain his powers and once again be active in Britain... Well, the public would panic. And it''s crucial to understand that the Ministry is also made up of ordinary wizards, many of whom are equally unprepared to ept this reality."

    Bryan''s gaze softened as he observed the young wizards before him. "I think you must know how deeply afraid most wizards are of that man, with only a limited few exceptions?"

    Harry fell into a contemtive silence. How could he not know?

    The memory of that summer night on his eleventh birthday came flooding back. He could almost feel the salty sea air and hear the howling wind as Hagrid found him in that deste shack on the rock. That night, when Hagrid was forced to mention the name ''Voldemort'', his fearful reaction was unforgettable.

    "You might think that lying to the public is shameful, But consider the consequences of telling the factual truth. The resulting panic could lead to aplete copse of social order, which would be far more catastrophic."

    Bryan understood that young wizards at this age often held idealistic views, coupled with a strong sense of moral purity. It was a natural and even admirable trait, but one that sometimes-needed tempering with the harsh realities of the world.

    "Lies are not always shameful¡ª" he exined patiently, his eyes moving between Harry and Hermione. But his next statement left both of them puzzled: "Not until it''s absolutely necessary to ept it all¡ª"

    As they left Professor Watson''s office, Harry''s mind was buzzing with all the new information and questions that had arisen from their conversation. He was eager to return to the Gryffindormon room and discuss the answers to tonight''s questions with Ron.

    However, Hermione had other ns. With characteristic determination, she insisted on dragging Harry to the Quidditch pitch toplete their daily training run. By the time they finished their grueling workout and returned to the castle, sweaty and breathless, the Great Hall was deserted.

    As they entered the entrance hall, their footsteps echoing in the empty space, a gruff voice called out to them from the shadows.

    "If I were you, I wouldn''t wander around the field in pitch darkness¡ª"

    Harry and Hermione turned to see Moody emerging from a darkened corridor, his magical eye swiveling wildly in its socket. Despite his earlier defeat at the hands of Professor Watson in front of the students, Moody didn''t seem angry or embarrassed. In fact, his mood appeared more stable than usual, though the constant movement of his mismatched eyes was as unsettling as ever.

    "Someone might be watching you in the dark, ready to steal your livers!" Moody continued, his voice a mix of warning and dark humor.

    Harry looked a bit awkward, unsure if Professor Moody was joking with them.

    "This is something we have to do every day, Professor Moody¡ª" Hermione exined timidly, her voice smaller than usual in the presence of the intimidating DADA teacher. Mad-Eye Moody''s intense demeanor was a bit too much for her, especially after the long day they''d had. "We were nning to do it earlier, but Professor Watson called us to his office¡ª"

    Hermione''s voice trailed off abruptly as she realized her mistake. Mentioning Professor Watson to Moody, given their recent exchange, suddenly seemed like a terrible idea. She nced nervously at Harry, silently pleading for help.

    "Ah, Watson!" Moody''s interest was piqued, his magical eye fixing disturbingly on Harry while his normal eye remained focused on Hermione. "What did he talk to you about, eh?"

    Even without Hermione''s subtle reminder, Harry wouldn''t reveal the contents of his conversation with Professor Watson. He braced himself for Moody''s displeasure, but to his surprise, Moody nodded with what appeared to be satisfaction.

    "That''s right, Potter," Moody growled approvingly. "Secrets should be kept in your heart! Never know who might be listening, do you?"

    With that cryptic remark, Moody turned to leave, his wooden leg clunking heavily on the stone floor as he made his way towards the grand staircase. Just as he was about to ascend the first step, he suddenly whirled around, causing both Harry and Hermione to jump.

    <strong>"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"</strong> Moody roared, his voice echoing through the empty entrance hall. Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the flickering torchlight.

    "It''s no wonder he''s called Mad-Eye Moody, is it?" Harry said, his heart still racing from Moody''s sudden outburst. "He does seem a bit... crazy."

    Hermione, however, wasn''t paying attention to Harry''sment. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she stared at the spot where Moody had been standing moments before.

    "Professor Moody just came from the Forbidden Forest¡ª" she said thoughtfully, her head tilted slightly as she pieced together the clues.

    "How could you possibly know that?" Harry asked, surprised by Hermione''s assertion.

    "Didn''t you see, Harry? There were leaves stuck to the soles of his shoes¡ª" Hermione said in a ''it''s obvious'' tone. "Those particr leaves are only found in the Forbidden Forest!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0469 Teaching

    0469 Teaching

    After the Sorting Ceremony, it had long been a tradition at Hogwarts for each of the four Houses to wee their newest members in their own distinct and characteristic manner, reflecting the values and traits that defined their respective founders.

    The Slytherin first-years would engage in duels to determine who among them would have the most influence.

    Upon arrival, the first-year Ravenws would participate in a special ''Riddle Night.'' This event could take ce in the Ravenw Tower, where older students organize a gathering full of challenging riddles, puzzles, and intellectual games.

    The badgers, true to their reputation for inclusivity and hard work, had organized a grand potluck feast. Each returning student had contributed a dish, creating a spread that represented the diverse backgrounds and talents of their house.

    But it was perhaps in Gryffindor Tower where the weing celebration reached its zenith of energy and noise. The lions had opted for the simplest and most straightforward approach: they threw a party.

    Perhaps because Percy, the strict Head Boy, was no longer around, when Harry and Hermione returned to themon room, they found that Fred and George had once again procured a heap of food from the kitchens.

    Theirmon room had been transformed into a riot of color and sound. Streamers in every hue imaginable hung from the chandeliers, swaying gently in the breeze created by the constant movement of excited students. These decorations, remnants of the night''s celebration, had not been taken down, giving the impression that Gryffindor Tower existed in a state of perpetual festivity.

    As Harry''s eyes swept across the crowded room, searching for familiar faces amidst the sea of roisterers, he spotted Ron. However, Ron''s demeanor stood in stark contrast to the jubnt atmosphere around him. Instead of joining in the festivities, he was huddled with his twin brothers around a small circr coffee table in a quieter corner of themon room. Their faces were serious, their heads bent close together in what appeared to be an intense discussion.

    The sight of Ron, so uncharacteristically detached from the celebration, caused a ripple of concern to pass through Harry. He felt Hermione shift beside him, and when he nced at her, he saw that she too had noticed Ron''s unusual behavior.

    "Should we go over, Harry?" Hermione asked softly, her voice barely audible over the noise of the party.

    Harry hesitated, his gaze flicking between Ron and the spiral staircase that led to the boys'' dormitory. After a moment of internal debate, he shook his head, his decision made. "I need to go back to the dormitory to write a letter to Sirius,"

    Without waiting for a response, Harry began to make his way towards the staircase, weaving through the horde of celebratory Gryffindors.

    Hermione watched Harry''s figure disappear around the staircase corner before looking away. She pursed her lips and sighed softly. She could tell that Harry wasn''t in high spirits, but this wasn''t because Sirius had joined the Ministry without telling him. It was more because Professor Watson had once again revealed some "truths about the world" to them this evening.

    This had clearly impacted Harry''s mood. In fact, it wasn''t just Harry; Hermione''s own worldview had been shaken by Professor Watson''s assertion that ''Stability is more important than Truth.''

    Hermione found herself in the unusual position of disagreeing with Professor Watson. She didn''t entirely agree with his views, feeling that it challenged her fundamental beliefs about the importance of truth and transparency. And yet, she couldn''t dismiss his wordspletely.

    Setting aside the debate of right and wrong, Hermione had to acknowledge that Professor Watson was unique among their teachers. He was the only one who seemed willing to discussplexities of real life and the wizarding world with the students, beyond just teaching magical skills. It was this aspect of his teaching that Hermione found particrly valuable, even if it sometimes left her feeling unsettled and questioning her long-held beliefs.

    Lost in her considerations, Hermione almost didn''t notice Ginny approaching her.

    "Oh, you''re back?" Ginny said, her eyes darting around Hermione as if searching for someone.

    "Harry went to write a letter to Sirius. He''s already gone back to the dormitory," Hermione answered, addressing Ginny''s unasked question as she shook out her bushy curls.

    It was then that Hermione noticed Neville standing slightly behind Ginny, his round face had an expression of curiosity tinged with his ever-present nervousness. Seeing Neville reminded Hermione of the other matter weighing on her mind, and her expression grew more serious as she addressed him.

    "Professor Watson thinks our training progress is a bit slow, Neville,"

    The effect of this single sentence on Neville was dramatic and instantaneous. His already pale face seemed to drain of what little color it had, his eyes widening in unmistakable fear. He began to stammer, his words tumbling out in a rush of anxiety, "D-did Professor Watson say that? What''s he g-going to do? Will we be expelled, Hermione? Is he not letting us attend ss anymore?"

    Hermione, seeing the panic rising in Neville''s eyes, quickly moved to reassure him.

    "No, nothing like that--" Hermione said, crossing her arms and speaking in a serious tone. "But he thinks we can''t waste all our time on this training. He told me he''ll be teaching us something new in this ss."

    Ginny, who had been listening to the conversation with growing interest, couldn''t contain her curiosity. "What could it be?"

    Neville, however, didn''t share Ginny''s enthusiasm. His expression shifted from fear to disappointment, his shoulders slumping slightly as he said, "Oh. I always thought this training was quite fun."

    The next two days at Hogwarts passed in a blur of sses, homework, and the usual magical mishaps that were routine for the course in a school of witchcraft and wizardry. For most students, these days were unremarkable, filled with the routine of learning and the small dramas of teenage life. But for Neville these days were marked by yet another potions disaster.

    It happened during Wednesday''s Potions ss. Neville, his hands trembling slightly as they always did under Snape''s severe gaze, had once again managed to melt his cauldron. The swirling purple potion, which was supposed to be a Confusing Concoction, had bubbled violently over the edge of the ruined cauldron, eating into the stone floor with an ominous hiss.

    This was no ordinary mishap, even by Neville''s unfortunate standards. It marked the sixth cauldron he had obliterated during his time at Hogwarts¡ªa record unmatched even by the notoriously reckless Weasley twins, whose explosive experiments paled inparison. Snape, his ck eyes gleaming with a blend of exasperation and what almost seemed like perverse pleasure, descended upon Neville like a vengeful bat swooping down on its helpless prey.

    "Longbottom," Snape drawled, his voice thick with venomous sarcasm, "it appears you''re determined to single-handedly sustain the cauldron-making industry. Perhaps you''d like to devote some extra time mastering the subtle art of not being aplete dunderhead?"

    The Slytherins, led by Draco, barely stifled their sniggers as Snape coolly sentenced Neville to detention that very evening. Neville, his face burning with shame, nodded mutely, too terrified to even mention that the detention might sh with Professor Watson''s evening ss.

    And so, when the final bell rang signaling the end of afternoon sses, Neville hadn''t joined his ssmates in their rush to dinner. Instead, he had trudged back down to the dungeons, his stomach churning with dread at what awaited him.

    Hourster, as the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall disyed a tapestry of twinkling stars, Neville was finally released from his detention. He sprinted through the castle corridors, his robes pping behind him, desperate not to miss too much of Professor Watson''s ss. By the time he burst through the ssroom door, panting and disheveled, all the other students participating in the PE ss were already assembled, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

    "What happened, Neville?" Harry asked in surprise, seeing Neville looking dejected and on the verge of copse. "What did that old bat Snape make you do?"

    Neville, still struggling to catch his breath, held out his hands in response. The sight made several of his ssmates gasp audibly. Neville''s hands, usually red and slightly pudgy, were now pale and wrinkled, as if they had been soaking in water for hours. But it wasn''t just the texture of his skin that was disturbing ¨C his fingernails were filled with a brown, foul-smelling substance that made even the bravest Gryffindors recoil.

    "A huge barrel of horned toads--" Neville began, his voice trembling as much as his hands. The memory of his suffering seemed to overwhelm him, and he had to take a deep breath before continuing. "He made me sort the toads'' innards, and he wouldn''t let me use magic!"

    As Neville spoke, his eyes brimmed with unshed tears, a mixture of exhaustion, frustration, and lingering disgust evident in his expression. His body shook involuntarily, and every few seconds, he seemed to be fighting the urge to vomit.

    The reaction from his ssmates was immediate. Despite the fact that they had all been exposed to the pungent odor of dungbombs as part of their training, and theoretically shouldn''t be affected by bad smells, everyone instinctively covered their noses and took a step back from Neville.

    "Didn''t you tell him you had Professor Watson''s ss tonight?" Ginny asked angrily.

    Neville''s response was a mixture of a sob and a hystericalugh. "I didn''t dare--" he said, shooting a grateful look at Hermione, who had ovee her initial nausea and was now using a cleaning spell to help remove the stubborn remnants of toad innards from his fingernails. "I was afraid if I said that, he''d make me disembowel myself, and still not allow me to use magic!"

    From the moment Neville had entered the room, Draco had been watching the scene unfold with undisguised glee. His face was twisted into a smirk, his grey eyes dancing with malicious amusement at Neville''s plight. Upon hearing Neville''sst statement, Draco could no longer contain himself. He burst intoughter, the sound echoing off walls of the ssroom.

    Harry, who had been listening to Neville''s story with growing anger, whipped around at the sound of Malfoy''sughter. His green eyes shed dangerously as he red at Draco, his hand twitching towards his wand pocket. The tension in the room suddenly spiked, with several students looking nervously between Harry and Draco, wondering if they were about to duel.

    Just as it seemed the situation might escte, the ssroom door clicked open, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife. Bryan, d in elegant wizard''s robes of deep blue that seemed to shimmer slightly in the candlelight, strode into the room.

    "Good evening, gentlemen anddies--" Bryan''s calm voice filled the room as he made his way to the front of the ssroom. The students, responding to an unspokenmand, quickly formed four neat lines before him. Bryan''s gaze swept over the assembled faces, taking in every detail of his students.

    As he looked at them, Bryan couldn''t help but notice the changes that had urred over the summer holiday. Many of their faces had lost some of the roundness of childhood, reced by the sharper angles of emerging adulthood. Their eyes, too, seemed different. There was an aura of growing maturity surrounding them, a sense that they were standing on the threshold between childhood and the adult world they would soon enter.

    Seeing these students looking up at him with a mixture of admiration, curiosity, and perhaps a touch of nervousness, Bryan felt a surge of emotion.

    "I''m d to see that you all still have the courage to show up for this ss--" Bryan said, his tone cheerful but with an underlying note of seriousness. "Before we begin the formal lesson, I have two announcements to make."

    The students straightened up; their attention focused entirely on their professor. Even Neville, still looking worse for wear after his torment with Snape, managed to push aside his difort to listen intently.

    "Considering that the physical training has been taking up too much of your time for after-ss assignments and rest," Bryan continued, "from now on, the physical education sses will be reduced to twice a week. The first session will still be on Wednesday evening, and the second will be scheduled for Friday morning during the fourth period."

    A murmur of surprise rippled through the gathered students. Harry, unable to contain himself, eximed, "Friday morning? But the third and fourth periods on Friday morning are Potions ss!"

    "Correct, Mr. Potter--" Bryan said with a pleased expression. "But after my persuasive efforts, Professor Snape has agreed to give me the fourth period."

    Before the students could begin to celebrate this unexpected amnesty from Snape''s ss, Bryan held up a hand, his expression growing more serious. "Don''t rush to cheer, Mr. Potter. If you can''t keep up with the Potions curriculum despite the reduced ss time, you''ll have to ept one-on-one tutoring from Professor Snape during your free time!"

    The threat of extra time with Snape was enough to temper any excitement about the reduced Potions sses.

    Neville, in particr, looked traumatized at the prospect. "I''m done for," he muttered, his face a picture of despair. His words, though quiet, were enough to elicit sympathetic chuckles from his ssmates, breaking some of the tension in the room.

    "Let me tell you about the second thing--" Bryan continued, waiting for theughter to die down before addressing the group once more. "Last term, due to certain circumstances, I wasn''t able to participate in theter training sessions of this ss. However, I''ve gotten a general grasp of each of your levels from Miss Granger."

    At the mention of her name, Hermione stood a little straighter, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

    "To be honest," Bryan continued, his tone growing more serious, "I''m not particrly satisfied--"

    Despite Bryan''s still-gentle demeanor, his words sent a ripple of tension through the group. Students exchanged nervous nces, wondering what this dissatisfaction might mean for their future in the ss. Even the usually confident Draco looked slightly unsettled.

    "--We''ve alreadypleted some basic training, and I wonder if everyone here has begun to understand the significance of these exercises. Is that right?"

    The question hung in the air for a moment. Then, almost in unison, Harry and Hermione nodded vigorously, their faces set with determination. To their surprise, they weren''t alone in their enthusiasm. More affirmative responses came from the group than anyone had expected.

    Hopkins from Hufflepuff known more for his cheerful nature than his magical prowess, suddenly spoke up, his voice brimming with excitement. "During the summer holiday, I yed a dueling game with my dad. We''ve yed before, but I used to barelyst a few minutes. This time, my dad was exhausted, and he couldn''t hit me with a single spell!"

    A ripple of impressed murmurs swept through the group at Hopkins'' story.

    Bryan''s face lit up with approval as he looked at Hopkins. "This is precisely the purpose of this training - to hone your physical abilities and reaction speed--"

    Then, addressing the entire group once more, he continued, "You''ve made some progress, but the results I''m aiming for in my course are far beyond this. I hope to teach you how to win duels, not just how to dodge quickly.

    So, we''re about to enter a new phase, Of course, you must continue with the previous training. I''ll leave some time in each ss for you to train, and this ssroom will be open for your use. You can also choose toe here and practice when you''re bored."

    His gaze hardened slightly as he added, "My requirement is that by the end of this school year, everyone must pass the basic stage of reaction training."

    "What are you nning to teach us?" Terry Boot raised his hand and asked. For Ravenws, learning more knowledge was always of interest.

    Professor Watson''s response was to beckon everyone closer, inviting them to gather around him in a semi-circle. Looking at the eyes sparkling with curiosity, Bryan smiled slightly.

    "What I''m about to teach next is the real deal -- dueling magic!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0470 Duel Magic

    0470 Duel Magic

    "I''m going to teach you the magic I used to defeat the Dark Witch at the World Quidditch Cup Final!"

    As Bryan said this with a faint smile, the already quiet ssroom fell even more silent. The young wizards held their breath frozen in shock, their eyes widening as they stared at Bryan, seemingly unable to believe what they had just heard.

    Bryan was now widely acimed as the strongest wizard of the modern era. While debates often raged about the distinction between "strongest" and "greatest" ¨C with Dumbledore well past his hundredth birthday and the once-terrifying powers of Voldemort having been shattered by Harry Potter ¨C there was little doubt that Bryan Watson stood as the most powerful magical figure in the contemporary wizarding world.

    The prospect of Professor Watson personally teaching them dueling magic was a ''dreame true moment'' for many students. Although numerous young witches and wizards had harbored secret hopes and expectations that this day might eventually arrive during their Physical Education sses¡ªwhen the moment really arrived, the young wizards could barely contain their excitement.

    As the initial wave of shock began to subside, allowing the students to regain some semnce of their senses, Cedric from Hufflepuff House found himself unable to contain his burning curiosity. With a voice that quavered slightly from the intensity of the moment, he blurted out, "Why not be more practical in your approach, Professor Watson?"

    Cedric, like many others present, had witnessed the extraordinary events that had unfolded at this year''s Quidditch World Cup Final.

    The vivid recollections of that night came flooding back ¨C the panic-stricken crowds fleeing the stadium, the acrid smell of smoke and fear permeating the air, and then, at the forest''s edge, the breathtaking spectacle that woulde to be known as the ''duel of the century'' or what manyter called <strong>''<em>The Skyfire Duel</em>''. </strong>

    The sheer magnitude of the magical prowess disyed that night had left an ineradicable mark on all who had been fortunate ¨C or perhaps unfortunate ¨C enough to witness it.

    "Why not indeed, Mr. Diggory?" Bryan responded with a warm chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement at Cedric''s eagerness. With a swift fluid motion, he withdrew his wand from the folds of his robes and waved it.

    In response to his silentmand, the very air seemed to shimmer andbine. Before the astonished eyes of the students, numerous desks and chairs materialized out of thin air, arranging themselves in neat rows across the expansive ssroom floor.

    "Please, take your seats, everyone," Bryan instructed, his voice carrying a note of gentle authority. "Before we delve into the practical aspects of our magical lessons, it''s crucial that we establish some foundation in theory."

    The young wizards and witches surged forward en masse, their earlier shock giving way to unrestrained enthusiasm. A good-natured but intensepetition ensued as students jostled for position, each hoping to secure a coveted front-row seat. Amidst the cheerful chaos, Hermione was uncharacteristically outmaneuvered.

    Unable to im one of the front-row positions, she let out a frustrated huff and smacked her leg in a rare disy of annoyance. Her vexation only intensified as she realized, with growing dismay, that in her haste and excitement, she had neglected to bring either a notebook or a pen.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    With a sudden whoosh that caused several students to jump in surprise, the heavy curtains along the walls smoothly glided shut of their own ord. The thick fabric effectively blocked out the encroaching darkness of the evening outside, creating a cocoon-like atmosphere within the room.

    Simultaneously, a series of metallic nks and creaks echoed through the space as the suits of armor that lined the walls sprang into action. Each suit reached out to grasp a torch from its bracket. The assembled students watched in fascination as these enchanted guardians marched in perfect unison, surrounding the desks illuminating the space as bright as day.

    "First and foremost," Bryan began drawing all eyes to the front of the room, "I must make a slight correction to my earlier statement." He stood before a ckboard, which was being dutifully held in ce by two of the suits of armor.

    "There is, strictly speaking, no such thing as ''dueling magic'' in and of itself. Magic, in its purest form is a wondrous and multiyered force that can be applied in a myriad of situations. The term ''dueling magic'' is, at best, an imprecise catch-all phrase that we use for convenience."

    He paused for a moment, allowing this fundamental concept to sink in. The students remained silent, their minds working to absorb and process this new perspective on magic.

    "In the context of duels and magical battles," Bryan borated, "we can broadly categorize magic into three primary types: offensive magic, defensive magic, and functional magic. Each of these categories ys a crucial role in magicalbat, and mastery of all three is essential for any wizard or witch hoping to excel in dueling."

    At Hogwarts, there had never been a course specifically dedicated to the art of magical dueling. This ancient practice had long relied more on self-discovery, intuition, and refinement through countless battles with others. The opportunity to receive organized instruction in this field, particrly from a wizard of Professor Watson''s caliber, was unprecedented. As such, not a single young witch or wizard dared to let their attention wander.

    "Let''s begin with offensive magic," Bryan said, his tone shifting slightly to indicate the start of a more in-depth exnation. "This category is perhaps the easiest to understand conceptually. Offensive spells are those used in duels with the direct purpose of striking your opponent and rendering them unable to continue resisting. However, the simplicity of this concept contradicts the vastplexity and variety of spells that fall under this category. Allow me to demonstrate some examples."

    With a subtle gesture from him, one of the suits of armor that had been standing guard nked forward. It positioned itself precisely thirty feet away from where Bryan stood. The students held their collective breath, sensing that they were about to witness something extraordinary.

    "Observe," Bryan said simply, raising his wand.

    <strong>BOOM!</strong> The silence was shattered by an explosive force that seemed to materialize out of thin air. In the blink of an eye, the suit of armor that had stood there few moments ago was reduced to scattered metallic fragments.

    "Explosion," Bryan exined with a smile, seemingly unfazed by the destructive disy. His calm demeanor stood in stark contrast to the awestruck expressions of the young wizards and witches before him. With another subtle motion, he summoned another suit of armor to take the ce of its fallenrade.

    <em><strong>Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!</strong> </em>A series of silver shes erupted from the tip of Bryan''s wand in rapid session. Each burst of light was apanied by a sharp, slicing sound. Before the students could fully process what they were seeing, the newly summoned armor copsed, itsponents neatly severed as if by an invisible de.

    "Cutting," Bryan stated concisely, his tone matter-of-fact despite the impressive disy of magical prowess.

    What followed was truly eye-opening for the assembled young wizards and witches. They watched, spellbound, as Bryan went to demonstrate a veritable arsenal of destructive methods. The hapless suits of armor served as willing targets for this masterss in offensive magic¡ªburning, piercing, corrosion, warping, petrification, disarming, binding. Bryan even used a spell to create immense gravity on one sturdy suit of armor, ttening it into an iron pancake.

    As the relentless barrage of magical attacks finally ceased, Harry realized he had been holding his breath for an unknown amount of time. He exhaled slowly, his mind reeling from the sheer variety and power of the spells he had just witnessed. A quick nce around confirmed that his ssmates were in a simr state of awe; for a moment, the ssroom was filled with the sound of collective exhtion as everyone seemed to remember the need to breathe.

    Bryan stood amidst the carnage of his demonstration¨C sea of scrap metal, molten puddles, and twisted remnants of what had once been suits of armor. Despite the intense magical exertion, his breathing remained perfectly steady, hisposure unruffled. He surveyed the wreckage as if mentally cataloging the effectiveness of each spell.

    "The varieties of offensive magic are truly endless," he said, turning back to face the ss. "It would be impossible for me to provide aprehensive list of every offensive spell in existence. However, the ultimate goal of any offensive magic is fundamentally simple: to render your opponent incapable of further resistance."

    A moment of stunned silence followed as the students attempted to process the sheer scope of what they had just witnessed. It was Katie Bell, a fifth-year student and one of Harry''s teammates on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, who finally found her voice. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from excitement or the residual heat of the magical disys was unclear, and she seemed to be struggling to catch her breath as she spoke.

    "Professor Watson, do you... do you expect us to learn all of these spells?" She paused, seeming to gather her courage before adding, "Forgive me for saying so, but that seems like an impossible task."

    Her question seemed to break the spell of silence that had fallen over the ss. Murmurs of agreement rippled through the room, with several students nodding vigorously in support of Katie''s assessment.

    "It''s absolutely, positively impossible!" Fred''s emphatic statement also rang out which was met with a chorus of agreeing voices, as more students found the courage to express their doubts.

    "That''s not the point of this demonstration," Bryan said calmly, blowing on his slightly smoking wand. "What I want you to understand is this, In a duel, any spell that can effectively incapacitate your opponent is a good spell. The key is not to master every offensive spell in existence ¨C that would indeed be an impossible task. Rather, you should strive to develop a repertoire of offensive spells that you excel at, that feel natural to you. The specific spells don''t matter as much as your proficiency with them and your ability to deploy them effectively in the heat of battle."

    As Professor Watson''s words sank in, Harry found his mind drifting to the Disarming Charm. He recalled vividly the day he had first seen it in a duel, when Snape had used it during Lockhart''s dueling club in his second year. For reasons Harry couldn''t fully exin, he had felt an immediate affinity for this particr spell. He had mastered it with surprising ease after just a few attempts, and since then, it had rarely failed him when he needed it most. In that moment, Harry began to understand what Professor Watson meant about finding spells that felt natural and developing proficiency with them.

    "Now," Bryan continued, his gaze calming the excited group of young wizards to quiet down once more, "let''s move on to discuss defensive magic."

    "By now, through the sses, you''ve all mastered certain evasion techniques, and under my guidance in theing lessons, you''ll each develop offensive spells that suit your individual strengths and magical affinities. However, it''s crucial that you understand a fundamental truth about magicalbat: evasion alone is not sufficient to dodge all attacks.

    Your physical stamina has its limits, you simply cannot outpace your opponent''s attacks indefinitely. Moreover, experienced wizards can often predict the direction of your evasion, rendering such tactics increasingly ineffective as the duel progresses."

    "Perhaps you''ve heard the saying, ''<strong>The best defense is a good offense''</strong>, There''s certainly some truth to that proverb, even in magical dueling. However, in an evenly matched duel, you cannot maintain an offensive stance indefinitely."

    He began to pace again, the students'' eyes followed him, hanging on his every word and gesture.

    "There are two primary reasons for this," Bryan exined, holding up two fingers for emphasis. "Firstly, your magical power is not infinite. Maintaining a constant barrage of offensive spells will rapidly deplete your magical reserves, leaving you vulnerable."

    Several students nodded in understanding, recalling moments when they had felt the drain after casting spells repetitively.

    "Secondly, and perhaps more importantly," Bryan continued, "everyone''s attacks have a rhythm, a pattern that emerges over time. A skilled opponent will study your offensive rhythm, searching for that crucial moment ¨C that split second between spells ¨C where you are most vulnerable."

    The ssroom was utterly silent now.

    "Once your opponent grasps that rhythm and finds an opening to counterattack, your offense will be forced to halt, in that moment, you''ll have no choice but to switch to a defensive stance. And that is when you''ll need defensive magic."

    Bryan paused, allowing the gravity of his words to settle over the ssroom.

    "Unlike offensive magic, I won''t be providing a demonstration of defensive spells today," he said, causing a few disappointed murmurs to ripple through the ss. "Defensive magic is often subtle, its effects are not always immediately apparent. But, Rest assured; we will cover this crucial aspect of dueling in great detail in our future lessons."

    No professor had ever managed to keep so many students simultaneously focused, but Professor Watson''s lesson had achieved just that. Over thirty young wizards from various houses, ranging from third-year students to sixth-year Cedric Diggory, listened intently. Not a single one was distracted. They were now receiving systematic dueling experience from perhaps the most powerful wizard of the modern era¡ªan opportunity no amount of Galleons could buy!

    "Now, wee to the third and perhaps most challenging category of magic used in dueling," Bryan said, his tone shifting to indicate the importance of this new topic. "Functional magic, also sometimes referred to as auxiliary spells."

    "This category of magic is the true test for a duelist." Bryan exined, his gaze sweeping across the eager faces before him. "It challenges not just your magical prowess, but your battle awareness and the breadth of your magical knowledge. Functional magic is difficult to categorizeprehensively, as its applications are limited only by your creativity and quick thinking."

    "Perhaps an example would best illustrate the nature and importance of functional magic," Bryan thought aloud, his eyes scanning the ssroom. "Miss Granger!"

    Hermione, who had been hanging on every word, was startled by the sudden address. In her haste to respond, she attempted to stand up, only to have her knees collide painfully with the underside of her desk. She winced visibly, a soft hiss of pain escaping her lips.

    Under normal circumstances, such a clumsy disy might have elicited snickers or mockingments, particrly from the Slytherin groups. However, the entire ss, including Pansy Parkinson, remained focused intently on Professor Watson, too engrossed in the lesson to pay Hermione''s mishap any mind.

    "Y-yes, Professor?" Hermione managed; her voice slightly strained as she rubbed her bruised knees.

    "Imagine, if you will, Miss Granger, that we find ourselves engaged in a duel, During this hypothetical confrontation, I use a spell to transform the ground beneath your feet into a swamp."

    The vivid description caused several students to nce down at the solid stone floor beneath their feet, as if half-expecting it to turn into muddy marsnd at any moment.

    "Now, this spell isn''t a direct attack, per se," Bryan continued. "I haven''t aimed a stunning spell at you or attempted to disarm you directly. And yet, this seemingly indirect action has ced you in a precarious position, severely limiting your ability to dodge or maneuver."

    Hermione nodded slowly, her brow furrowed in concentration as she visualized the scenario.

    "A highly skilled and experienced wizard," Bryan borated, "might possess the ability to directly counter such a spell, perhaps restoring the ground to its original, solid state with a flick of their wand. However, you, Miss Granger, despite your considerable talents, have not reached that level yet."

    There was no condescension in Bryan''s tone, just a statement of fact. But Hermione made a mental note to research ground-restoration spells after this ss.

    "So, Miss Granger," Bryan said, focusing on her with an expectant gaze, "faced with this predicament, what magic would you use to help yourself out from this situation?"

    The ssroom fell silent as all eyes turned to Hermione. Many of the students were pondering the question as well, mentally rummaging through their magical knowledge for a solution.

    Hermione''s delicate brows furrowed deeply as she immersed herself in thought.

    <em>Hmm...</em>

    "I would..." Hermione pursed her lips, mentally cataloging all the spells she had learned over the past few years. "Um¡ªperhaps I would use the Freezing Charm."

    A few confused murmurs rippled through the ss, but Hermione pressed on, her exnation flowing more smoothly now. "By using the Freezing Charm, I could potentially solidify the swampy ground, creating a stable surface to stand on. This would restore my movement and negate the advantage you had gained."

    A moment of silence followed Hermione''s response as Bryan considered her answer. Then, a broad smile spread across his face. "Excellent!" he eximed, his voice filled with genuine approval. "A creative and effective solution, Miss Granger. Five points to Gryffindor for your quick thinking."

    A collective sigh of relief and a smattering of apuse filled the room. Hermione beamed with pride as she sat back down, her earlier embarrassment forgotten in the glow of her sessful answer.

    As the apuse died down, Neville cast an admiring nce at Hermione. His own mind had been nk when faced with the hypothetical scenario, the only solution he could think of was a dive into the mud in hopes of concealing himself from his opponent''s sight.

    "I trust you all understand my point now," Bryan addressed the ss, many of whom were nodding in realization. "Auxiliary spells, while not directly offensive in nature, can be helpful in oveing obstacles or escaping difficult situations during a duel. Their effects, when applied creatively, can be surprisingly powerful and often catch your opponent off guard."

    "Consider this scenario: you find yourself face to face with a vicious dragon."

    Several students shuddered just at this thought, while others leaned forward with interest.

    "Obviously, you cannot hope to defeat such a formidable creature through direct magical attacks," Bryan exined. "However, with a clever application of functional magic, you could significantly improve your chances of survival."

    He began to list potential strategies, counting them off on his fingers. "You could employ io charm to call nearby objects that might aid in escape or defense. Use Disillusionment charm to hide in the surroundings, A well-cast Fire-Extinguishing Charm could neutralize Dragon''s me-breath. Finally, a targeted Conjunctivitis Curse could temporarily blind the beast, drastically reducing its ability to locate and attack you."

    The students listened in rapt attention, many of them mentally noting down these tactics for future reference ¨C just in case.

    "By utilizing thisbination of functional spells," Bryan continued, "you would create a situation where, while still dangerous, the dragon would be far more manageable. You would have much more room to maneuver, to strategize, and ultimately, to escape or achieve your objective."

    Bryan''s gaze swept across the ssroom, noting the looks of understanding and excitement on the faces of his students. "Of course," he added with a slight smile, "I sincerely hope none of you find yourselves in a situation where you need to apply these specific tactics. However, the principle remains the same across all magical confrontations ¨C creative use of functional magic can turn the tide of battle in your favor."

    "Now," he said, his tone bing more serious, "I must stress that the category of functional magic is incredibly broad. It epasses a vast array of spells, charms, and magical techniques. In this ss, I will focus on teaching you approaches to using functional spells flexibly and creatively. However, the specific spells themselves, you must continue to learn and master in your regr Charms sses."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0471 Magic

    0471 Magic

    The room fell into an eerie, expectant silence, thick with anticipation. Bryan standing tall and imposing at the forefront of the ssroom, could see the flushed faces of excitement all around him.

    Every young wizard in the room, from the smallest first-year to the most seasoned seventh-year, had harbored dreams of bing as powerful as Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor Watson. For these young wizards, finding a clear path to such awe-inspiring power through theplicated and often tedious knowledge imparted in other Hogwarts courses seemed a Herculean task.

    But the knowledge Professor Watson had just shared and the breathtaking disy of magic he had demonstrated ignited a spark within each of them. It kindled a tangible sense of possibility, a flickering me of hope that they too might one day wield such extraordinary abilities.

    "Professor Watson," Cedric raised his hand. In the candlelight, his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "If we can keep pace with your lessons... if we can truly absorb and master what you''re teaching us... does that mean..." He paused, swallowing hard, as if hardly daring to voice the thought aloud. "Could we... could we actually have a chance of bing Hogwarts champions? Of representing our school and emerging victorious in the Triwizard Tournament?"

    The mention of the legendary Triwizard Tournament sent a ripple of excitement through the ssroom. Many students, including Harry and the notoriously proud Draco visibly perked up at Cedric''s words, their eyes brimming with hope.

    <em>''If Ron knew what he was missing, he''d be kicking himself!''</em>

    Harry and Hermione, seated side by side, exchanged meaningful nces. Both saw the same thought reflected in each other''s eyes. Harry, in particr, had often regretted Ron''s decision to drop this ss, and at this moment, that feeling of regret reached its peak.

    "I''m afraid not, Mr. Diggory," Professor Watson gave a disappointing answer to the expectant gazes. "The Triwizard Tournament is far more than a simple test of magicalbat prowess."

    Bryan''s pale purple eyes, always slightly unnerving in their ethereal hue, swept across the room, meeting each student''s gaze in turn. "This tournament is designed to test young wizards on their ability to apply magic creatively and effectively in crisis situations. It''s aprehensive evaluation of magical skill, adaptability, and wisdom - qualities that go far beyond just spell-casting ability."

    His lips curved into a small, knowing smile as he continued, "If brute magical force were all it took to ovee the Tournament''s challenges, it would be reduced to nothing more than a glorified dueling contest. And while the skills you learn here will undoubtedly be valuable, they are but one piece of a muchrger puzzle."

    The words prehensive evaluation'' seemed to hang in the air, echoing in the minds of the students.

    Cedric nodded thoughtfully; his brow furrowed in concentration as he absorbed Bryan''s words. Unbeknownst to him, Cho Chang was gazing at his back from her seat diagonally behind him. Her eyes rippled with aplex cocktail of emotion.

    Bryan''s voice cut through the contemtive silence that had fallen over the ssroom. "I want each of you to remember what I''ve just told you," he said, his tone taking on a more businesslike tone. "When you return to your dormitories this evening, I want you all to write an essay. It should be no less than twelve inches in length, discussing your understanding of dueling - its applications, its limitations, and its ce within the broader spectrum of magicalbat. You''ll submit these to me next Wednesday evening."

    A collective groan might have been expected at the announcement of homework, especially given that this was the first time Professor Watson had assigned any since the physical education ss began. However, no such sound was heard. These young wizards, mischievous and yful as they could be, were far from fools. They recognized the rarity and value of the opportunity before them, and not a singleint was voiced.

    "Now," Bryan continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "we are about to enter the formal offensive spell instruction phase of our course." Before the students could erupt into cheers of excitement, Bryan raised a hand, his expression suddenly grave. "I must stress upon each and every one of you the utmost importance of what I''m about to say. From this day forward, those participating in this ss are strictly forbidden from using wands in any conflicts within the school grounds, even if both parties involved are students of this ss. Should such an incident ur, I assure you, the punishment will be most severe."

    The solemnity in Professor Watson''s voice and the stern set of his features sent a chill through the room. The young wizards felt the weight of his words settle upon them like a physical presence. It was clear to all that the "severe punishment" he spoke of went far beyond just simple detentions or house point deductions. The unspoken threat of expulsion - not just from this coveted ss, but potentially from Hogwarts itself - hung heavy in the air.

    Theodore Nott, couldn''t resist voicing his discontent. "But Professor Watson," he grumbled, his voice tinged with frustration, "how are we supposed to gain practical experience? We can''t be true dueling masters without actualbat, can we?"

    Bryan''s gaze was fixed on Theodore, and for a moment, the Slytherin seemed to shrink under the intensity of those ghostly eyes.

    "An astute observation, Mr. Nott," Bryan said, a note of appreciation in his voice. "Rest assured, I will provide you with ample opportunities for practical experience. However," he paused, his gaze sweeping across the room once more, "before we reach that point, it is crucial that you build a solid foundation. Without that, all the practical experience in the world will be for naught."

    From across the room, Draco caught Harry''s eye. His lips twitched in a mock expression of disappointment, but the glimmer in his gray eyes showed his genuine excitement for what was toe.

    Hermione, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of anticipation and intellectual fervor, raised her hand. Her voice, when she spoke, was quick and breathless with eagerness. "Where do we start, Professor Watson?" she asked, her brown eyes lighting with curiosity. "I mean, we don''t have any textbooks for this course, do we?"

    "This course, Miss Granger, does not require textbooks in the traditional sense," Bryan exined, standing before the young wizards. "I will be using a spell-teaching method none of you have encountered before."

    Bryan''s pale purple eyes seemed to glow with an inner light as they reflected the puzzled faces of his students. "Now," he said, his voice deepening to a rich, resonant tone that seemed to dim even the bright torches illuminating the ssroom, "I need each and every one of you to fix your eyes upon mine."

    Confusion rippled through the room at this unusual request. The students exchanged bewildered nces, silently questioning why Professor Watson would ask them to look into his eyes.

    Harry and Hermione, privy to some inside information, shared another meaningful look. In their second year, Professor Watson had told them a secret about his unique eyes. ording to him, his eyes contained a special magic, functioning like a reservoir capable of storing vast amounts of magical power for use in duels. He had told the trio - Harry, Hermione, and Ron - that if they ever witnessed his eyes returning to their original brown color, it would indicate that he was engaging in battle with his full, unleashed power.

    Unfortunately, Harry had never had the opportunity to see Professor Watson''s eyes in their natural state except when he used magic to change their colours.

    There was a possibility that on the night of the Quidditch final, Professor Watson had used his full power. But they had been too far away to notice such a subtle change in eye color amidst the chaos.

    Despite their confusion and nervousness, the young wizards obediently followed Bryan''s instruction. They stared intently into his oddly colored eyes, their own eyes wide and unblinking, not daring to look away for even a moment.

    As the ssroom fell into an expectant hush, the ambient sounds of Hogwarts became more distinct. The howling of the wind outside the castle walls, the subtle creaking of ancient timbers, and the soft crackling of the torches seemed amplified in the quiet air.

    A mysterious, almost otherworldly atmosphere settled over the room. The young wizards, sensing that something beyond their wildest imaginations was about to unfold, opened their eyes even wider, desperate not to miss a single moment.

    Observing their rapt attention, a slight smile tugged at the corners of Bryan''s lips. In the next instant, his pale purple eyes suddenly zed with an intense, otherworldly light. A strange, pulsating wave of energy surged forth from his pupils, expanding outward in concentric circles. In the blink of an eye, this mysterious force enveloped all the young wizards in the room.

    And then, abruptly, the world plunged into darkness.

    Hermione felt as though she had been suddenly cast into the depths of an endless, pitch-ck ocean. The darkness that engulfed her seemed to rival eternity itself, a void soplete and absolute that it defiedprehension.

    Panic rising in her chest, Hermione instinctively tried to struggle against the oppressive ckness, to cry out in terror, but to her mounting horror, she found that she had no control over her body''s movements. It was as if her physical form had ceased to exist, leaving only a cluster of intangible thoughts and emotions, sinking ever deeper into the abyss.

    In the boundless darkness that seemed to stretch on forever, a single streak of pure, brilliant white light suddenly appeared. It tore through the eternal submersion like a bolt of lightning, a beacon of hope in the endless void. Panic-stricken and desperate for any escape from the terrifying darkness, Hermione''s consciousness eagerly moved towards that tantalizing ray of light. With a sensation that defied physical description, she passed through what felt like a doorway between realities.

    A deafening buzz filled her senses, rattling her very being. When it subsided, Hermione found herself kneeling on what appeared to be an absolutely smooth, pure white surface that stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. Everything around her was an unbroken expanse of pristine white, seemingly without end or definition. The stark contrast to the earlier darkness was almost painful to observe.

    "Professor Watson," Hermione called out, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and confusion. Tears welled up in her eyes as the full weight of her bewildering situation bore down upon her. But there was no response; the world remained as silent as it was white, offering nofort or exnation.

    "Harry, where are you?" she called again, her voice tinged with desperation. This time, her plea seemed to have an effect on the strange, featureless world around her.

    A beam of grayish-ck light, starkly visible against the pure white backdrop, descended from above. Itnded beside her with a soft whoosh, the sound oddly muffled in the vast emptiness. As the light beam made contact with the ground, it began to transform, gradually coalescing and taking shape. Within moments, a bewildered-looking Harry materialized from the light, his green eyes wide with shock and confusion.

    This seemed to be just the beginning. One after another, beams of light in various shades began to descend from the infinite whiteness above. Each beamnded and transformed, revealing the familiar faces of their Hogwarts ssmates. Soon, the white expanse was dotted with groups of disoriented students, all looking around in stunned silence, trying to make sense of their surroundings.

    No one could say with any certainty what they had just experienced. The only thing they knew for sure was that it must have something to do with Professor Watson and the strange request he had made for them to look into his eyes.

    "Where are we?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he rose to his feet. He looked around at the vast, empty world in utter confusion, his hand instinctively reaching for a wand that wasn''t there. Just moments ago, they had been in the familiar surroundings of Professor Watson''s ssroom at Hogwarts. Now, in the blink of an eye, they found themselves in this strange, featureless ce that defied all logic and understanding.

    Ginny spoke up softly. "Did Professor Watson somehow take us out of Hogwarts?" she asked, her brown eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe.

    "That''s impossible!" Hermione eximed, though her voice held a note of uncertainty that showed her own doubts. Her logical mind struggled to reconcile what she knew with what she was experiencing. "If you''ve read ''Hogwarts: A History'' as I have, you''d know that there are incredibly powerful protective spells into the school. These enchantments prevent all forms of apparition or magical transportation in or out of the grounds."

    Neville, his round face pale with fear, chimed in with a trembling voice. "But this is Professor Watson we''re talking about, isn''t it?" he said, ncing nervously around as if expecting Bryan to materialize at any moment. "He can probably do just about anything. I mean, we''ve all seen what he''s capable of..."

    At this point, Hermione didn''t have the energy or feeling to refute Neville''s somewhat naive view of their professor''s abilities. Like all the young wizards surrounding her, she was desperately trying to make sense of their current situation.

    Suddenly, a familiar, steady voice cut through the oppressive silence, causing the students to jump in surprise. "Wee," it said, the single word filled with warmth and a hint of amusement. The young wizards quickly turned towards the source of the sound, their eyes widening in a mixture of relief and uneasiness.

    There, seemingly squeezing out of a distorted, hazy patch of air beside them, was Professor Watson. His eyes, normally an unsettling shade of pale purple, now seemed deeper and more mysterious than ever. An odd, knowing smile appeared across his lips as he observed his bewildered students.

    With a flourish, Professor Watson spread his arms wide, his robes rippling with the motion as if stirred by an unfelt breeze. "Wee, everyone," he repeated, his voice resonating with power and barely contained excitement, "to my Spiritual World."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0472 Spiritual World

    0472 Spiritual World

    "Professor Watson''s Spiritual World," Harry mumbled under his breath, his emerald eyes wide with a mixture of awe and confusion. He turned to look at Hermione who was usually a fountain of knowledge on all things magical. To his surprise and slight dismay, he found that even Hermione wore the same bewildered expression as himself. Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were pressed into a thin line.

    For a moment, Harry wondered if ''Spiritual World'' might be an advanced magical concept taught only to upper-year students. His gaze instinctively sought out Cedric, but upon seeing the confusion etched across Cedric''s face, Harry realized that even the older students were just as lost as the rest of them.

    Bryan standing before them in this endless expanse of white, observed the anxious and perplexed expressions of the young wizards.

    "Perhaps you''re still confused," Bryan said, his deep voice resonating in the vast, featureless space. "Alright, I can take some time to exin further."

    With a fluid motion, Bryan sped his hands behind his back. His gaze swept across the pristine white world that surrounded them, his eyes reflecting an appreciation for the magical construct he had created.

    "This world," Bryan began, gesturing to the infinite whiteness around them, "isn''t real in the conventional sense. It''s a false world I''ve created - a world that can only be entered through thoughts." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "I''ve extracted your thoughts, given them form, and ced them into this construct. Your physical bodies are still in the ssroom, sitting exactly where you left them."

    The young wizards'' mouths remained slightly hung open, their minds struggling to wrap around the concept Bryan was presenting. While they couldn''t fullyprehend the intricacies of what he was telling them, they grasped enough to understand the basics - the ce they were in was a magical creation, conjured into being by their enigmatic professor.

    "Creating a world with magic," Hermione murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. At that moment, her carefully constructed understanding of magical knowledge teetered on the brink of copse. The sheer scope of what Professor Watson had aplished defied everything she had learned from her beloved books. She couldn''t fathom what kind of magic could aplish all this.

    Harry, standing beside Hermione, lowered his head to stare at his own hands. He repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists, watching the y of muscles and tendons beneath his skin. His face was a picture of disbelief, green eyes wide with wonder and a hint of fear. The incredibly clear sensation of his movements, the feeling of his nails digging into his palms, made it excruciatingly difficult for him to ept the reality - or rather, the unreality - of his current state.

    "False... thoughts," he muttered, struggling to reconcile the vivid sensations with the knowledge that he was now, in essence, an illusion given form by magic.

    Astoria Greengrass, a second-year Slytherin girl from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, spoke up. "But why did you bring us into... this world you created? Aren''t we supposed to be learning magic, Professor Watson?"

    Astoria was the only first-year student Bryan had invited to join the Physical Education ss during its nning stage. Herrge, dark eyes were filled with curiosity as she continued, "Does learning magic in this world give us some advantage?"

    "A good guess, Miss Greengrass," Bryan said, his pale purple eyes twinkling with appreciation for her perceptiveness. He then addressed the entire group, his voice taking on a more intellectual tone. "You''ve all been studying spells for some time now. I''m sure you understand the difficulties of learning a new spell. Time - precious, irreceable time - is what you need most. You require a substantial amount of time to practice repeatedly before mastering a new spell."

    He began to pace slowly, his robes rustling softly with each step. "Outside, in the physical world, with just two sses a week, you''d struggle to meet my expected progress. But here, in this Spiritual World, time can theoretically be elerated." His eyes gleamed with excitement as he continued, "This means that one hour spent here might only equate to about half an hour in the outside world."

    Theodore Nott clenched his fist inside his sleeve. His eyes, usually cold and calcting, were now filled with a newfound respect as he looked at Bryan.

    The Nott family possessed ancient magical techniques, passed down through generations. They were one of the few families in the wizarding world who truly understood the intricacies of time magic being the original creators of Time-Turners. However, to avoidplications and potential danger, they had handed over all their Time-Turners to the Ministry of Magic, iming the craft had been lost to time.

    It was precisely because of this inherited knowledge that Theodore understood how terrifyingly difficult and dangerous time magic truly was. The idea that Professor Watson had developed a form of magic that could manipte the flow of time itself - it was simply beyond hisprehension.

    "Of course, I must warn you," Bryan said seriously, his tone shifting to one of caution as he noticed Hermione''s eyes gleaming with unbridled enthusiasm. He knew all too well the allure of having more time, especially for someone as academically driven as Hermione. "The essence of elerated time is the increased speed of thought processes, which has severe side effects. It ces a great burden on your bodies. So, don''t be tempted by the allure of having more time at your disposal. We must use this ability sensibly."

    Hermione''s expression fell slightly, a soft, disappointed mumble escaping her lips. However, she quickly nodded in understanding. She had firsthand experience with theplexities and dangers of time maniption, having used a Time-Turner in her third year to attend multiple sses simultaneously. The memory of the stress and exhaustion she had endured, not to mention the potential catastrophic consequences of misuse, was still fresh in her mind. As Professor Watson said, manipting time, even in this controlled environment, could put an enormous strain on both mind and body.

    "There''s another advantage to learning magic in the Spiritual World," Bryan continued, his voice cutting through the contemtive silence that had fallen over the group. He seemed eager to move past the potentially dangerous topic of time maniption and onto the primary purpose of this lesson.

    "I believe most of you have experienced this in Professor Flitwick''s Charms ss: despite knowing a spell''s incantation and wand movement perfectly, you still can''t master the magic." His gaze swept over the students, lingering on Neville, who nodded vigorously, rting all too well to this frustration.

    "That''s because sessfully casting a spell doesn''t just depend on the incantation and gestures. There are other subtle elements at y, For instance, the stability of the magic drawn from your body by the spell, or the fluctuations in magical power - what some might call mana - behind your concentration. These are aspects that are incredibly difficult to teach in a conventional ssroom setting and can typically only be adjusted through repeated practice and experience.

    But here, in the Spiritual World, these usually invisible elements be more apparent. We can make the intangible tangible."

    As he spoke, Bryan turned and drew his wand with a flourish. With a series of intricate waves and flicks, peculiar three-dimensional structures began to emerge from the tip of his wand. These constructs shimmered with strange, ethereal colors that seemed to shift and change as they moved, defying description in any conventional spectrum.

    The structures ranged from rtively simple onesposed of just a few glowing lines interconnected in geometric patterns, to incrediblyplex arrangements with dozens of intertwining magical threads. These mysterious constructs floated coolly in midair, rotating slowly on their own axes and emitting inexplicable vibrations that the students could feel in the very core of their being.

    Harry stared wide-eyed at these diverse structures, his mouth slightly agape in wonder. While he couldn''t begin to understand their meaning or purpose, he could still sense a kind of profound beauty in these magical constructs. It was a beauty that transcended the physical, touching something deep within his magical core. If Harry had to put it into words, he felt he was witnessing the very essence of magic itself - raw, pure, and breathtakingly beautiful.

    "Magical Configurations!" Hermione eximed suddenly, her voice filled with awe and excitement. She sped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with the thrill of recognition. It was clear that her vast reading had once again provided her with knowledge beyond that of her peers.

    Bryan chuckled warmly at Hermione''s outburst. "Indeed, Miss Granger. I''m impressed you''re familiar with the concept," he said, his tone carrying a note of genuine admiration. "That''s correct. In Professor Flitwick''s first Charms lesson, he would have mentioned the core of spells - Magical Configurations also known as Magical Constructs. But beyond that initial introduction, he wouldn''t have told you much more, because it''s quite esoteric knowledge."

    His expression grew more serious as he continued, "For most people, this kind of knowledge is obscure and, frankly, useless in their day-to-day magical practice. However, if you aim to truly master magic - to improve existing spells or even invent new ones - you must understand these fundamental building blocks of magical energy."

    Astoria Greengrass spoke up again with a serious expression. "I don''t understand, Professor Watson," she said, her voice carrying a hint of confusion and perhaps a touch of impatience. "Isn''t our goal to learn offensive magic, not to invent or improve spells?"

    Bryan''s expression softened as he looked at her. He could see the hunger for practical knowledge in her eyes, a traitmon among many of his students. "No need to rush, Miss Greengrass," he said gently. "All will be clear in due time."

    He paused for a moment, rubbing his brow tiredly. The strain of maintaining thisplex magical world was beginning to show, even on a wizard of his caliber. Summoning dozens of young wizards into the constructed Spiritual World and carefully ensuring their bodies wouldn''t copse due to elerated thought processes was a monumental task, pushing even his considerable abilities to their limits.

    Afterposing himself, he continued his exnation. "When practicing spells here in the Spiritual World, the spells won''t take effect in the conventional sense. You won''t be shooting sparks or levitating objects. Instead, they will materialize the magical construct of that spell." His eyes gleamed with something as he borated, "This allows you to visually see where your problems lie. Different errors in your casting will cause different issues in the magic configurations you build, which means that with simple guidance, you''ll know exactly how to adjust your spellcasting for optimal results."

    Seeing the group of still somewhat bewildered young wizards, Bryan''s expression softened further. "Don''t worry," he said calmly, his voice carrying a reassuring warmth. "You''ll understand much better after trying it out for yourselves. Theory can only take us so far - magic is best learned through practice and experience."

    With a wave of his hand, many of the previously floating constructs emitting mysterious vibrations dissipated into shimmering motes of magical energy. Four constructs, eachposed of about a dozen intertwining magical corridors, remained floating in front of the young wizards. These particr configurations seemed to pulse with a different energy, as if they were more... essible, somehow.

    "Disarming Charm, Stunning Spell, Petrification Spell, Impediment Jinx," Bryan listed, pointing to each construct in turn. "These are simple spells, but they form the foundation of defensive and offensive magic. I believe you must master thesepletely before moving on to more advanced techniques."

    He paused, allowing the importance of his words to sink in before dropping what he knew would be a bombshell for many of his students. "My requirement for you," he said, his voice taking on a more formal tone, "is to be able to cast these basic spells non-verbally."

    A hushed murmur rippled through the group of students. Harry, feeling somewhat out of his depth, leaned towards Hermione. "Non-verbally?" he whispered, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness. "What does that mean exactly?"

    "It means being able to cast spells sessfully without saying the incantation out loud," Hermione exined in a hushed tone, her wordsing out in a rush. "It''s very difficult, Harry. Even among adult wizards, few can achieve this level of magical control consistently."

    She nced at Professor Watson, who appeared as calm and collected as if he were merely reminding them not to chew with their mouths open during meals. Hermione unconsciously wiped her temple, then realized with a flinch that they were now just illusory forms existing in the Spiritual World constructed by Professor Watson - they couldn''t actually sweat.

    Non-verbal spellcasting was a skill typically only encountered in NEWT-level exams, reserved for the most advanced students in their final years at Hogwarts. Among the young wizards present in this ethereal ssroom, only one or two had even begun to study this technique, and none had yet mastered it. Professor Watson''s requirement made the young wizards feel an immense pressure settling on their shoulders. The task ahead seemed Herculean, a mountain they were being asked to climb when they had barely learned to walk.

    However, despite the daunting nature of the challenge, no one raised any objections. By this point in the course, its value was beyond question. The opportunity to learn such advanced magic, especially under the tutge of a wizard as clearly gifted as Professor Watson, was not something to be taken lightly. Each student, from the confident Cedric to the usually timid Neville set their jaws with determination. They were ready to face whatever challengesy ahead.

    "Well then," Bryan said, pping his hands together with an air of finality. His smile was warm and encouraging as he surveyed his students. "Let''s begin practicing. I believe you''ve all encountered one or more of these spells before. First, familiarize yourselves with this new learning method, and then we''ll discuss whates next."

    Author''s Note: <strong>About the Spiritual World Magic.</strong>

    INTRO: This magic was created based on pensives and time-turners and some alchemy was used too.

    Incantation: *"Tempus Lucidis Mensora!"

    (temp-us loo-si-dis men-sor-uh)

    Effect:

    This spell transports the caster and their chosenpanions into an illusory world that blends memories or created realities with time maniption. Within this world, time passes differently than in reality¡ªone hour inside equals only 30 minutes outside. The experience is simr to diving into a Pensieve memory, but the illusionary bodies can interact limitedly with this world for exploration, investigation, or recreation.

    Conditions:

    - The spell works only for up to one hour inside the Spiritual world. After this time, all participants are pulled back to reality.

    - The created world can be based on existing memories, dreams, or even imagined scenarios.

    - Physical actions performed inside this illusory space do not carry over into the real world; however, mental experiences and knowledge gained during the time inside can remain.

    This would be very important magic in future and it will be improved little by little. It''s very simr to diving in a pensive watching memories.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0473 Magical Constructs

    0473 Magical Constructs

    The pristine white expanse of Bryan''s Spiritual World hung in expectant silence. Despite his clear instruction to begin practicing, not a single young wizard moved a muscle. They stood, rooted to the spot, their eyes fixed on Bryan with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. The air was thick with unasked questions, each student waiting for further guidance on how to proceed in this alien environment.

    Observing their hesitation, Bryan shook his head helplessly, a small sigh escaping his lips. His purple eyes swept across the room, taking in each face, before finally settling on Cedric Diggory, the oldest student present. Cedric stood tall among his peers, his chiseled features marked by a quiet confidence that set him apart. After a moment''s contemtion, weighing the merits of his decision, Bryan beckoned to Cedric with a motion of his hand.

    "Come here, Mr. Diggory,"

    Cedric Diggory was a tall,nky young man, his frame nearly matching Bryan''s height. Yet, as he approached Bryan, He seemed to shrink, his broad shoulders were hunched slightly, and he lowered his head in an unconscious disy of nervousness.

    "Tell me, Mr. Diggory," Bryan began, "of the spells I just mentioned - the Disarming Charm, Stunning Spell, Petrification Curse, and Impediment Jinx - how many can you perform?"

    Cedric''s brow furrowed slightly as he considered the question. As a sixth-year student, he had encountered these spells numerous times in both Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts sses. He had a solid grasp of their theory and had practiced them extensively. However, unsure of Professor Watson''s intentions and not wanting to appear boastful, he answered with careful honesty.

    "I can perform all of them, Professor," Cedric replied, his voice steady despite his inner uncertainty.

    From her position among the other students, Hermione raised an eyebrow, her mind already at work. These spells, while foundational, weren''t particrly difficult for someone of their level. She, too, had mastered them all, a fact that both filled her with pride and made her wonder about the purpose of Professor Watson.

    "Very good," Bryan nodded, a hint of approval in his voice. With a casual flick of his fingers, the four spell constructs that had been floating nearby suddenly separated. Each construct moved to a position approximately fifty feet apart, creating a wide square formation in the endless white space.

    Bryan stepped aside, revealing to Cedric a particrly vibrant construct - aplex, prismatic shape that pulsed with a deep, rich red energy. The color was reminiscent of the spell light produced by a sessfully cast Stunning Spell in the physical world.

    "This," Bryan exined, his voice taking on a more formal, instructional tone, "is the standard magical construct for the Stunning Spell, Mr. Diggory." He gestured towards the glowing red structure. "I want you to step forward and cast Stupefy at it."

    With that, Bryan crossed his arms and moved further to the side, giving Cedric a clear line of sight to the construct. His unusual purple eyes gleamed with keen interest, like a scientist about to witness a crucial experiment. "Let''s see how well you''ve truly mastered the Stunning Spell,"

    Cedric stood still for a moment, confusion evident in the slight furrow of his brow. He was still grappling with the surreal nature of their current situation. Nheless, he followed the order, reaching into his robes to pull out his wand. As his fingers closed around the familiar wood, a new wave of bewilderment washed over him. Hadn''t Professor Watson explicitly told them that their bodies were just manifested thoughts in this Spiritual World? If that were true, how was it possible for his wand to be here?''

    However, Cedric quickly realized that now was not the time to dwell on such metaphysical questions. He nced back at his watching ssmates, their faces a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm the nerves that fluttered in his stomach. It was a strange sensation, feeling nervous in a body that wasn''t truly there. Out of habit, he wiped his palm on his robe, though logically he knew no real sweat could exist in this illusory world.

    Steeling himself, Cedric''s gaze hardened with determination.

    "Stupefy!" Cedric''s voice rang out, clear and strong, echoing in the vast whiteness of the World.

    As he spoke the incantation, Cedric''s wrist made a sharp, precise flick followed by a forceful forward thrust - the standard wand movement for the Stunning Spell. However, what happened next was anything but standard.

    Instead of the expected jet of red light that would normally erupt from his wand tip, a miniature red prismatic structure materialized at the end of his wand as hepleted the gesture. This structure, glowing with light, bore a striking resemnce to therger construct Professor Watson had designated as the standard form of the Stunning Spell.

    No sooner had this miniature construct formed than it was drawn towards Bryan''srger one, as if pulled by an invisible force. As it neared, it began to merge with the standard construct, causing a visible tremor to run through therger structure. The air seemed to vibrate with magical energy, creating a low, thrumming sound that the students could feel in their bones.

    Cedric turned back to Professor Watson, his expression a mixture of confusion and awe. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask what had just happened, but before he could utter a word, the construct''s trembling ceased abruptly. In the sudden silence that followed, a cold, emotionless voice - unmistakably Professor Watson''s, yet devoid of its usual warmth - emanated from the now-still construct:

    <strong>"Stunning Spell</strong> <strong>Magical constructpletion: 87%. </strong>

    <strong>Spell assessment: Effective. </strong>

    <strong>Deficiencies: Magical power input above optimal range. Casting gesture deviation: 7%."</strong>

    <strong>Hiss!</strong>

    A collective gasp rippled through the ethereal Spiritual World.

    Cedric standing few feet away from the construct, waspletely dumbfounded. He gawked at the standard magical construct that was systematically critiquing his spellcasting and his heart was in turmoil!

    But the spectacle wasn''t over yet. As the systematic evaluation concluded, the magical construct suddenly emitted a plume of shimmering, silver-blue smoke. To everyone''s utter astonishment, this ethereal smoke began to coalesce, taking on a more defined shape. Within moments, it had formed the distinct outline of a hand grasping a wand.

    This smoky add-on then began to move demonstrating the standard casting motion for the Stunning Spell.

    "Do you understand now?" Bryan''s voice cut through the stunned silence. He turned his head slightly, focusing on Cedric with a prating gaze. The captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, usually soposed and admired for his handsome appearance, stood transfixed. His eyes never left the smoky hands that were demonstrating the standard casting motion, his expression one of utter amazement.

    Cedric was so shocked that he couldn''t even form words. He simply nodded nkly, his mind racing to process what he had just witnessed. "How did hee up with this method?" The question echoed in his thoughts; a sentiment shared by many of his ssmates.

    The silence that had fallen over the group suddenly shattered as excited chatter erupted among the young wizards. Their eyes were wide with wonder, their voices ovepping in a cacophony of awe and spection.

    "If Professor Flitwick knew about this-" one voice eximed, trailing off.

    "And Professor McGonagall!" another chimed in.

    "Brilliant!" This sentiment was echoed by many, the single word encapsting their collective admiration for the innovative teaching method they had just witnessed.

    The young wizards stared at Professor Watson with newfound respect and fervent admiration.

    Hermione, her mind working at lightning speed to process this new information, suddenly grabbed Harry''s arm. Her fingers trembled with excitement as she spoke, her voice hushed but intense. "Professor Watson infused his thoughts into the magical construct!" she eximed, her brown eyes shining with the thrill of understanding. "Don''t you see, Harry? It''s just like the Sorting Hat!"

    It was an aptparison, and those who heard Hermione''s words had a moment of collective realization. The Sorting Hat is said to contain the thoughts and wisdom of the four founders. It could peer into the minds of students, sorting them into the houses that best suited their personalities and potentials. The magical construct before them seemed to employ the same principle, analyzing and critiquing their spellwork with intelligence.

    In that moment, Bryan''s status in the young wizards'' eyes soared to new heights, nearly reaching that of Hogwarts'' revered founding four.

    Bryan, however, seemed awkward with their adoring gazes.

    "Okay, If you understand the principle, then let''s begin in earnest. Choose the spell you want to try, form an orderly line, and after receiving feedback, find a ce to practice and correct your mistakes. When you believe you''ve improved, you can request a re-evaluation. Remember, to achieve nonverbal casting, you need to reach at least 95% proficiency with the spell."

    The moment Bryan finished speaking, a palpable wave of enthusiasm swept through the group. The young wizards'' excitement was almost frightening in its intensity. All thirty of them surged towards the four spell constructs, each eager to test their best spells against this revolutionary evaluation system.

    Arguments quickly broke out as students jostled for position, their voices rising in a chaotic ruckus. Bryan was forced to step in, establishing some basic rules to maintain order and ensure everyone got a fair chance. His presence quickly calmed the frenzy, though the air still buzzed with barely contained excitement.

    Harry, unsurprisingly, chose the Disarming Charm. It was the spell he felt most confident with. He was keen to see how well he had truly mastered this signature spell of his.

    Hermione made a beeline for the Stunning Spell queue. Her decision was due to two reasons: firstly, she wanted topare her performance to Cedric Diggory''s, and secondly, she saw the Stunning Spell as a crucial offensive tool worth mastering to the highest degree. As she waited for her turn, she mentally reviewed every detail of the spell''s theory and execution.

    Neville, his round face etched with determination, had initially headed for the Petrification Curse. It was the only spell of the four that he felt truly confident with, thanks to countless hours of practice. However, he arrived toote, finding the line already long with eager students. With a resigned sigh, he reluctantly joined Hermione in the Stunning Spell queue, his confidence already beginning to waver.

    "Stupefy!" Hermione''s clear, crisp voice rang out when her turn came. The red prismatic structure of her spell construct shot from her wand tip, quickly merging with the standard construct. There was a moment of tense silence before Professor Watson''s ghostly voice spoke again:

    <strong>"Stunning Spell </strong><strong>Magical constructpletion: 92%. </strong>

    <strong>Spell assessment: Effective. </strong>

    <strong>Deficiencies: Magical power input below optimal range. Casting gesture deviation: 3%. </strong>

    <strong>Suggestions: 1. Enhance offensive intent during casting. </strong>

    <strong>2. Repeated practice to build magical stamina. </strong>

    <strong>3.."</strong>

    A fleeting smile of satisfaction crossed Hermione''s face before her expression became thoughtful. She walked away from the construct, her mind already dissecting the feedback and formting a n for improvement. The fact that she had outperformed Cedric didn''t escape her notice, but she was more focused on the areas where she could still improve.

    As Neville''s turn approached, the anxiety that had been building in his chest reached a crescendo. He gulped audibly, raising his wand with a visibly trembling hand. "Stu-Stupefy!" he stammered, his voicecking the confidence and rity of Hermione''s attempt.

    Having watched the process twice now, Neville''s nervousness caused his wand to quiver uncontrobly. The construct that emerged from his wand was misshapen and unstable, barely holding its form as it merged with the standard construct. After a brief, ominous hum, an oppressive silence fell over the area.

    When the voice finally spoke, its tone seemed even colder than before:

    <strong>"Possible Stunning Spell attempt detected. </strong>

    <strong>Magical constructpletion: 17%. </strong>

    <strong>Spell assessment: Ineffective.</strong>

    <strong>Deficiencies: Magical power input significantly below optimal range; highly unstable magical supply; casting gesture deviation: 67%.</strong>

    <strong>Suggestions: No specific suggestions avable. </strong>

    <strong>Rmend reviewing basic magical theory and wand control exercises."</strong>

    The harsh assessment hung in the air. From somewhere behind him, Neville heard Draco Malfoy''s raucousughter, His face burning with shame, Neville fled the area with his head bowed low, unable to meet the eyes of his ssmates.

    Noticing this disheartening result, Bryan''s gaze followed Neville''s dejected back with a contemtive look.

    As the session continued, with students cycling through the constructs and receiving their evaluations, a sudden change rippled through the Spiritual World. Without warning, a sound like breaking ss shattered the air.

    In the blink of an eye, the ethereal world dissolved, and the students found themselves back in the familiar surroundings of their Hogwarts ssroom. Those who had been slumped over their desks began to stir. Confused murmurs filled the air as they looked around, taking a moment to reorient themselves in physical reality.

    Harry, still slightly dazed from the abrupt transition, nced at the gold watch on his wrist. It was a gift from Professor Watson, one that he always wore.

    "Only about 45 minutes have passed," Harry informed Hermione, his voice filled with a mixture of disbelief and awe.

    They had spent what felt like hours in the Spiritual World, practicing and refining their spells under Professor Watson''s innovative system. Yet here, in the real world, barely more than half an hour had psed. Even though Professor Watson had emphasized this aspect of his magical world, Harry still found the reality of it incredible.

    At the front of the ssroom, Bryan stood before them, his tall frame slightly hunched as he gently massaged his temples. The strain of maintaining suchplex magical world was evident in the slight furrow of his brow and the tightness around his eyes. He looked somewhat fatigued.

    Concern welling up inside him, Harry stood up, intending to check on Bryan. However, as soon as he rose from his seat, the world began to spin rmingly. An overwhelming wave of dizziness struck his senses, causing his vision to blur and his bnce to falter. Unable to maintain his footing, Harry copsed back onto the bench, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him.

    "Careful, Mr. Potter," Bryan said with a gentle smile, having noticed Harry''s stumble. "Although time waspressed in the Spiritual World, the mental and magical fatigue you experienced there is very real. Everyone, please remain seated and refrain from moving for the moment. You have ten minutes to rest and adjust yourselves."

    Bryan inhaled deeply, steadying himself before turning to the still-dazed students. His voice, calm but firm, cut through their confusion. "For the next hour, we''re going to engage in a practical exercise¡ªsomething to get your bodies moving and help dispel the lingering effects of the Spiritual World. We''ll be practicing evasive maneuvers... by dodging dungbombs."

    A wave of groans and whispers spread across the ssroom as the students reacted to this unexpected and unpleasant announcement.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0474 Envy

    0474 Envy

    As the clock struck 9 PM, Hogwarts Castle stood majestically against the velvet night sky, its ancient stone walls bathed in the ethereal glow of countless stars. The usual bustling atmosphere had given way to an unusual tranquility, perhaps a consequence of Bryan''s recentmandeering of most of the castle''s suits of armor.

    The corridors, typically alive with the echoes of students'' footsteps and mischievous whispers, now resonated with an almost palpable serenity. Only the portraits on the walls exchanged hushed gossip and offered gentle admonishments to the few students still making their way back to their dormitories.

    In the grand entrance hall, a scene of organized chaos unfolded as students from the four houses bid each other goodnight and parted ways. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, an unlikely pair united by the location of theirmon rooms, descended together into the depths of the castle''s dungeons. Meanwhile, the Ravenws and Gryffindors began their ascent to their respective towers.

    Harry his mind still buzzing with excitement from the night''s events, climbed up the stairs two at a time, eager to share every detail with Ron. As he climbed, his emerald eyes caught sight of a peculiar figure in the distance.

    "Oh, that''s--"

    Illuminated briefly by the warm glow emanating from Hagrid''s hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a limping silhouette patrolled the grounds before melting into the dense darkness beyond.

    "It''s Professor Moody--" Harry eximed, his voice a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Does he patrol the grounds every night? Did Professor Dumbledore order him to do this?"

    "Oh, not necessarily!" Fred said enthusiastically. "You all know he''s retired from his position as an Auror. Dad says he''s very vignt. I guess he probably treats Hogwarts like Azkaban. He thinks it''s not safe here!"

    Hermione furrowed her brow in skepticism as she said, "But it''s impossible for anyone to sneak into Hogwarts undetected, right?"

    "That''s not certain," Harry grinned. "Sirius managed it, and so did Peter Pettigrew. He lurked in the school for over two years before being discovered."

    That despicable guy had lurked at Hogwarts for over two years, but had stayed with their family for twelve years in his Animagus form. Whenever this was mentioned at home, Mr. Weasley''s face would turn ashen, while their mother, Mrs. Weasley, would look as if she were having difficulty breathing.

    Harry, noticing the effect his words had had, quickly tried to steer the conversation in a different direction. However, before he could speak, Ginny''s soft voice broke the momentary silence. "But why doesn''t he light amp for himself?" she mumbled, her curiosity oveing her difort.

    "Even darkness can''t deceive that eye of his--" Fred said with a hint of respect. "Apart from Professor Watson, Moody''s the most capable Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we''ve had in years!"

    "Absolutely brilliant!" George chimed in.

    Harry didn''t quite like this assessment. Compared to Professor Moody, he emotionally preferred Remus and Sirius. Hermione, however, he asked eagerly, "What do you mean?"

    The twins exchanged a meaningful nce. Then, with the ir of a seasoned performer, Fred leapt onto a nearby corner tform. He turned to face Hermione, his eyebrow raised in a perfect arch as he dered, "It''s absolutely fantastic--" He paused, savoring the anticipation on their faces. "It''s definitely beyond your imagination. He''s a true master atbating Dark Magic!"

    Harry''s mind suddenly snapped to the present as he remembered, "We have his ss tomorrow--" His voice rose with enthusiasm as he asked, "Is Professor Moody''s ss even more interesting than Professor Watson''s physical education ss?"

    The words felt strange on Harry''s tongue. Before tonight''s extraordinary lesson, he would never have described Professor Watson''s PE ss as ''interesting''. ''Useful'', perhaps, or even ''grueling'', but ''interesting'' was a new development, born from the night''s unexpected turn of events.

    George''s dismissive tone cut through Harry''s ponderings. "That''s a different matter altogether, Harry!" he said, waving his hand as if to physically brush aside theparison.

    Unexpectedly, it was Ginny who provided the next piece of information, her voice soft but clear in the quiet corridor. "Professor Watson said he would examine whether Professor Moody''s teaching content meets the requirements. If not, he''d expel Professor Moody from Hogwarts." Her brown eyes darted around the group as she continued, "He''s probably been preparing for this PE ss these past couple of days. Maybe he''ll show up in the Defense Against the Dark Arts ssroom tomorrow--"

    Fred and George turned to their little sister in astonishment, their usual synchronicity momentarily disrupted. "When did this happen?" Fred asked, his eyes wide. "How do you know?" George added, leaning in closer.

    Ginny''s cheeks flushed slightly under their scrutiny, but her voice remained steady. "It was on the first day of school, after they dueled in the entrance hall--" She nced at Harry, a hint of something unreadable in her eyes. "I was hiding behind a pir outside the door. Professor McGonagall didn''t see me, and I overheard their conversation."

    No one wanted to see a confrontation between the two professors happen. After all, Professor Moody had been personally invited by Dumbledore himself, and he was also a good friend of Mr. Weasley.

    Harry felt even more guilty. After all, that day Professor Moody had intervened to punish Malfoy for ambushing him. If he were to be expelled from Hogwarts by Professor Watson because of this, Harry felt that he should also bear some responsibility, although the real culprit was Malfoy.

    Carrying this burden of worry, Harry and his friends finally reached the entrance to the Gryffindormon room. The Fat Lady eyed them reproachfully for disturbing her at such ate hour. With a muttered password, the portrait swung open.

    The Gryffindormon room, usually a hub of activity until the wee hours of the morning, was uncharacteristically quiet. Perhaps the excitement and physical exertion of the past few days had finally caught up with the fun-loving Gryffindors. The room, with its plush armchairs and cozy sofas covered in rich crimson and gold, was nearly deserted. Only the firece showed signs of life, its embers glowing softly and asionally bursting into small, crackling mes that sent dancing shadows across the walls.

    Even Hermione, known for her tireless dedication to studying, seemed to have reached her limit after the night''s intense lesson. She scooped up Crookshanks who had crept out from beneath one of the sofas. The cat purred contentedly, his squashed face nuzzling into Hermione''s arms as she bid Harry goodnight with a drowsy wave before heading towards the girls'' dormitory.

    After exchanging final goodnights with Fred and George, who headed off whispering about some new prank idea, Harry and Neville made their way up the spiral staircase to their dormitory. The door creaked softly as they pushed it open, revealing a scene that was far from the quiet they had expected.

    Ron, Seamus, and Dean were sprawled on a soft, plush rug spread out on the floor between their four-poster beds. They were engrossed in a game of wizard''s chess, As Harry and Neville entered, Ron''s triumphant shout filled the room.

    "Checkmate!" Ron eximed, his freckled face split by a wide grin. At hismand, the knight on the chessboard sprang into action. It galloped forward, its tiny silver hooves clip-clopping across the board, beforeing to a halt in front of the opponent''s king. With a flourish of its miniaturence, the knight sent the king flying off the board, eliciting a groan of frustration from Dean.

    "Oh, you''re back?" Ron looked up, his eyes bright with victory, about to invite Seamus for another round. However, upon noticing Harry and Neville''s entering and their peculiar expressions, his ginger eyebrows shot up in curiosity. "What''s wrong?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Did the smell of the Dungbombs finally break you?"

    "Didn''t Professor Watson tell Hermione earlier that there would be new changes to this course?" Dean, still prickly from his recent defeat, stood up and stretched. His dark eyes sparkled with interest as he asked, "Did Professor Watson increase the dose of Dungbombs?"

    "Oh, you missed out on something amazing!" Harry was considering how to exin without upsetting Ron too much, but faced with the inquiry, Neville spoke first. He enthusiastically said to the other three in the dormitory, "Professor Watson has officially started teaching us magic, dueling magic!"

    The effect of Neville''s words was instantaneous.

    "What?!" Seamus and Dean cried out in unison, their voices a mixture of disbelief and envy. The chessboardy forgotten as Seamus leapt to his feet, scattering the defeated pieces across the rug. He and Dean rushed forward, each grabbing one of Neville''s arms as if they could shake the details out of him. "What happened, Neville? Tell us quickly!"

    And so, Neville began to recount every detail of the night''s lesson, from Professor Watson''s analysis of the three subtypes of dueling magic to the incredibly unbelievable method of teaching magic. He didn''t leave anything out.

    Even Harry was surprised that Neville, who was usually forgetful, could remember Professor Watson''s words from the ss so clearly.

    As Neville''s tale came to an end, a heavy silence fell over the dormitory.

    "So, Harry--" Ron, who had been standing in shocked silence throughout the recounting, finally found his voice. His cheeks puffed up in surprise as he looked at Harry and asked softly, "Is this true? Did Professor Watson really teach you dueling... I mean, dueling magic?"

    Harry nodded, trying to keep his tone casual. "Just some basic spells that can be used in dueling, Ron," he said, attempting to downy the significance of what they had learned. "We can learn them in Charms ss too. Professor Watson just advanced our progress--"

    But his words did little to diminish the impact of the revtion. Seamus''s face contorted in frustration as he eximed, "Learning magic in Professor Watson''s Magic world!" He flopped back onto his bed, his voice muffled as he buried his face in his pillow. "Damn, what have we all missed?!"

    Dean, usually the mostid-back of the group, was pulling at his short hair in regret. "Do you think--" he began, his voice tinged with desperate hope, "Professor Watson might ept our apologies and let us rejoin the ss?"

    Ron remained silent, but his eyes turned to Harry, filled with the same hopeful expression that Dean''s voice had carried.

    Harry and Neville exchanged nces, both at a loss for words.

    The silence stretched on, filled with unspoken words andplicated emotions.

    The chessboard and pieces were scattered on the rug, with no one willing to tidy them up.

    As the night wore on, the boys went to their respective beds, but the usual chatter that would fill the dormitory after lights out was noticeably absent. No one spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. The room was enveloped in a heavy atmosphere that even the clear, silvery moonlight streaming through the windows couldn''t dispel.

    Harryy in his four-poster bed, the familiar red and gold hangings drawn back to allow the moonlight to spill across his nkets. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze drifting to Ron''s bed. He could see Ron tightly wrapped in his nkets, facing the wall as if already asleep.

    But Harry knew better. He knew Ron must be pretending to sleep.

    <em>''Who could have predicted things would turn out like this?''</em>

    Equally troubled, Harry let his head fall back onto the pillow. He stared at the ceiling, speckled with patches of light and shadow, as his consciousness gradually drifted into a haze.

    <strong>...</strong>

    Fortunately, perhaps to make up for the terrible weather in the days before school started, the sky over Hogwarts Castle was clear during the first week of sses. Today was no exception. As the golden morning sunlight fell on Harry''s face, he rubbed his eyes and sat up in bed, yawning after a night of deep sleep.

    The dormitory was already empty, which startled Harry. He fumbled for his sses on the pillow, and as soon as his vision cleared, he grabbed his watch. After checking the time, Harry''s tense expression rxed. He spent ten minutes washing up and getting dressed, then found "A Guide to Self-Defense Against the Dark Arts" among a pile of books and stuffed it into his bag.

    On a school morning, aside from a few lucky students who didn''t have morning sses, there weren''t many people lingering in themon room. Harry didn''t see Neville or Seamus there, guessing they were probably having breakfast in the Great Hall.

    The corridors of Hogwarts were rtively empty as Harry made his way towards the Great Hall. As Harry approached the massive oak doors of the Great Hall, the low hum of hundreds of voices engaged in morning conversation reached his ears.

    As expected, Harry found his ssmates in the Great Hall. Hermione was there too, deeply engrossed in an old book. Harry only needed a nce to know it was the book about magical constructs that Professor Watson had given her. He had seen it many times before.

    Ron''s face broke into a wide grin as he spotted Harry approaching. "You looked like you were sleeping so soundly, so I didn''t wake you¡ª" he called out, waving a piece of toast in greeting.

    "Yeah¡ª" Harry replied, sliding into the empty seat next to Hermione. Without missing a beat, he reached for a te of lemon meringue cookies. With the skill of someone who had perfected the art of quick eating (a necessity when living with the Dursleys), Harry managed to stuff an entire cookie into his mouth in one go.

    "I waspletely exhausted," he added, his words slightly muffled by the cookie.

    As Ron turned back to continue his discussion about Professor Watson''stest dueling theory, Harry took the opportunity to survey the Great Hall. The excitement in the air was palpable, with students at nearly every table engaged in lively discussions about their dueling lessons.

    Even at the staff table, Professor McGonagall had called Angelina over to inquire about the situation, while other professors, including Professor Dumbledore, listened intently.

    Almost against his will, Harry found his eyes drawn to the Slytherin table. There, holding court like some petty prince, sat Malfoy. His pointed face was alight with malicious glee as he described to Crabbe, Goyle, and a cluster of other Slytherins who weren''t in the dueling ss with exaggerated tales of what had transpired.

    Harry felt a surge of anger course through him, his hand clenching involuntarily around his fork. If it weren''t for Malfoy''s troublemaking, Professor Watson wouldn''t have to evaluate Professor Moody, let alone threaten to remove him from his position.

    However, Harry''s concern for Ron outweighed his worry about Professor Moody.

    On the surface, Ron seemed to be in high spirits,ughing and joking with their ssmates. But the more Harry watched, the more he felt that something was off.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0475 Moodyâ€™s Lessons (Large Chapter)

    0475 Moody¡¯s Lessons (Large Chapter)

    However, Harry''s concern for Ron outweighed his worry about Professor Moody.

    On the surface, Ron seemed to be in high spirits,ughing and joking with their ssmates. But the more Harry watched, the more he felt that something was off.

    "Hermione¡ª" Harry called softly, careful to keep his voice low enough that Ron wouldn''t overhear.

    "Hmm¡ª" Hermione responded, her tone rising in question. Her eyes, however, remained firmly fixed on the pages of her book, scanning the lines of text with unwavering focus.

    "I think something''s off with Ron¡ª" Harry persisted, his concern evident in his hushed tone.

    Atst, Hermione tore her gaze from the book. Her brown eyes flicked towards Ron. She observed him for several long moments, Then, she turned back to Harry silently waiting for him to borate.

    Harry leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper as he recounted his observations as concisely as possible. "You didn''t see it, Hermione¡ª" he murmured, his green eyes flickering briefly to ensure Ron was still engrossed in conversation with Dean and Seamus. "Last night, after Ron learned about thetest developments in the physical education ss, he looked so dejected. It was likest year when he thought Scabbers had died at Crookshanks'' paws. But look at him now, he seems to havepletely forgotten about it, acting as if nothing happened."

    Contrary to what Harry expected, Hermione''s face showed no surprise or concern at this. Her expression remained calm, almost maddeningly so.

    "Isn''t it obvious?" Hermione said calmly. She nced once more at Ron, who had turned away to reach for a tter of sausages. "Ron is avoiding the subject. He''s afraid we''ll notice how much he regrets giving up Professor Watson''s ss. Of course, it''s already quite evident¡ª"

    Harry opened his mouth to respond, but found himself at a loss for words. His mind shed back to the Quidditch World Cup, to the moment when Mr. Weasley had praised Harry, Hermione, and the other Weasley children for their excellent stamina while climbing Stoatshead Hill. Ron''s face had flushed with embarrassment, a mixture of shame and envy flickering in his eyes before he quickly masked it. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry had to admit that Hermione was absolutely right again.

    The signs of Ron''s regret had been there from the beginning, but both Ron himself and Harry had been reluctant to acknowledge it, to make it too obvious. It was easier to pretend everything was fine, to ignore the elephant in the room. But now that Hermione had pointed it out, Harry couldn''t unsee it.

    "We should help Ron, Hermione¡ª" Harry whispered urgently, leaning even closer to Hermione, who had once again immersed herself in the mysterious world of magical constructs detailed in Professor Watson''s book.

    <strong>Snap!</strong>

    The sudden sound of Hermione abruptly closing the book in her hand made Harry flinch. When she turned to look at him this time, there was a hint of anger smoldering in the depths of her brown eyes. Her chest rose and fell a bit faster than normal, her breathing quickening as she bit her lower lip, a sure sign that she was trying to control her emotions.

    "What do you think we should do, Harry?" Hermione retorted, her voice low but intense. She clutched Professor Watson''s book tightly to her chest, her fingers turning white at the tips from the pressure she was exerting.

    "Plead with Professor Watson to let Ron rejoin the physical education ss?" she continued, her wordsing faster now, tinged with frustration. "If that''s what you''re thinking, I''d advise you to save your energy, Harry. We all know Professor Watson''s character. He''s not as easy-going as Hagrid, who would tolerate Malfoy''s repeated disruptions in his ss¡ª"

    Hermione paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before plunging on. "Professor Watson won''t go back on his word. During the selection phase, he told everyone that we were free to give up his course without consequences, but those who quit wouldn''t have a second chance to join. Do you really think it''s possible, Harry, to convince Professor Watson to allow Ron back in?"

    Her voice grew more emotional as she spoke, her eyes shing with a mixture of indignation and exasperation. "He''s not the only one who regrets it, you know. Lavenderined to me for hours in the dormitoryst night. She thinks Professor Watson should have been clearer and given everyone the full course n upfront so they could make decisions after understanding the situation."

    Ha!" Hermione let out a sarcasticugh. "As if she could make decisions for Professor Watson!"

    "What are you two talking about?" Ron''s voice suddenly cut through their hushed conversation. He had turned back to them, his brow furrowed as he took in Hermione''s flushed face and agitated demeanor. "What are you getting upset about, Hermione?"

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    Before either Harry or Ron could react, Hermione had leapt to her feet. She snatched her bag from beside her, hugging Professor Watson''s book protectively to her chest as if it were a shield. Without another word or backward nce, she strode towards the entrance hall, her bushy hair bouncing with each determined step.

    Ron watched her retreating figure with a mixture of confusion and concern. ""Blimey, what''s she gone mad about so early in the morning?" he asked, turning back to Harry with a bewildered expression.

    Harry felt a surge of panic. He couldn''t tell Ron the truth about their conversation ¨C it would only make things worse.

    "Uh¡ª it''s about, um, Professor Moody¡ª" he stammered, his mind racing to concoct a usible exnation. Seizing on the information Ginny had shared with him, Harry quickly ryed Professor Watson''s n to evaluate Professor Moody''s ss.

    "Professor Moody got on Professor Watson''s bad side trying to help us, so I asked Hermione if we could maybe plead with Professor Watson¡ª" Harry invented wildly his palms growing sweaty as he spun the tale, "But Hermione thinks, well, that Professor Moody shouldn''t have used magic to attack Malfoy¡ª"

    Ron''s eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open. "Has she gone mad?" he eximed, loud enough to draw curious nces from nearby students. Lowering his voice, he leaned in closer to Harry. "Whose side is she on anyway?"

    "Yeah¡ª" Harry nodded awkwardly, avoiding Ron''s gaze.

    The rest of breakfast passed in a blur of forced conversation and stolen nces at the entrance, half-hoping and half-dreading that Hermione would return. But she didn''t, and soon enough, Harry and Ron made their way to Professor Moody''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss.

    As they entered the ssroom, Harry was struck by how full it already was. Harry and Ron quickly found seats towards the back, squeezing past their ssmates with mumbled apologies.

    Once settled, Harry turned his head, his eyes scanning the room. Sure enough, he spotted Professor Watson sitting on a solitary stool by the window, his eyes were closed as if he were asleep. But Harry knew better ¨C he had seen Professor Watson in action and knew that the man was likely aware of everything happening in the room.

    A ripple of confused murmurs swept through the ss as more students noticed Professor Watson''s presence. Only a handful, including Harry and Ron, knew the reason behind it, and the atmosphere in the room grew tenser with each passing moment.

    As the minutes ticked by, the ssroom filled to capacity. Perhaps due to Professor Watson''s intimidating presence, or maybe because of the heightened tension in the air, no one dared to make a sound. The usual pre-ss chatter was conspicuously absent, reced by an eerie silence as everyone sat quietly in their seats, eyes darting nervously between the door and Professor Watson''s still form.

    Harry''s mind raced with possibilities. Why hasn''t Professor Moody shown up yet? The question nagged at him, each passing second adding weight to his growing concern. A disturbing thought crept into his consciousness: Could it be that he''s afraid of embarrassing himself in front of Professor Watson, so he''s simply given up on teaching the ss?

    Harry couldn''t help but think this, his mood growing heavier. As his gaze wandered around the room, Harry''s eyesnded on Malfoy, sitting in the front row like nothing was amiss. The sight of his face, set in an expression of barely concealed anticipation, made Harry grit his teeth. A surge of anger rose in his chest, bitter and hot. Malfoy''s smug demeanor showed he knew exactly why Professor Watson was here, and he seemed to be relishing the potential drama about to unfold.

    Just as the tension in the room was reaching a fever pitch, a familiar sound broke through the silence.

    <strong>Thump, thump, thump!</strong>

    After hearing the very recognizable sound of a cane hitting the floor, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. At least Professor Moody hadn''t run away out of fear.

    Moody spotted Bryan sitting by the window immediately. He paused for a moment, then resumed his normal pace. He trudged to the podium with difficulty, took out the roll call sheet, shook his head to clear the long, grizzled hair from his twisted, scarred face, and began calling names. His normal eye moved down the list, while his magical eye spun around, staring at each student as they responded.

    However, Harry noticed that the magical eye never turned towards Professor Watson''s direction, as if deliberately avoiding him.

    "Well then¡ª" Professor Moody said in a hoarse voice when thest student had answered, tossing the roll call sheet back onto the podium, "I suppose you''ve all noticed we have a guest in our ss today¡ª"

    As if on cue, Professor Watson, who had remained motionless throughout the roll call, opened his eyes at the appropriate moment.

    "Professor Watson is here to test me," Moody began, his voice a gravelly rasp that drew attention. He let out a chuckle that sounded more like a smoker''s cough, the sound reverberating off the stone walls. "He seems worried I might use magic to remove your legs in ss¡ª"

    The students exchanged nervous nces, unsure whether tough or be concerned.

    Turning to face Bryan directly, Moody continued, "I must rify in advance, Professor Watson, if you expect me to teach straight from the textbook, I''m afraid I won''t be of much use¡ª"

    "As long as you don''t actually remove the young wizards'' legs one by one, Professor Moody¡ª" Bryan said with a smile at the corner of his mouth, "you''re free to proceed at your own pace¡ª"

    Moody responded with a series of grunts that seemed to be caught somewhere between a cough and a sneer.

    Addressing the ss once more, Moody''s voice took on a more serious tone. "I received a letter from Professor ck, introducing the situation of this course. It seems you''ve already mastered quite a bit of basic knowledge about dealing with Dark creatures¡ª" He paused, his magical eye sweeping across the room as if to gauge their reactions. "You''ve learned to handle Boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, correct?"

    A soft murmur of agreement rippled through the ssroom. Some students nodded, while others whispered confirmations to their neighbors.

    "But when ites to dealing with curses," Moody continued, his voice growing darker, more ominous, "you''re still very inadequate¡ªvery inadequate." He emphasized thest words. "Therefore, I intend to let you experience the workings between wizards. I have one year to teach you how to deal with Dark magic¡ª"

    "What?!" Ron eximed; his freckled face flushed with excitement. "You''re going to teach us dueling?"

    Ron''s outburst seemed to break a dam, and whispers began to flow through the ssroom like water. Many students couldn''t help but nce sneakily at Professor Watson, curious about his reaction to this apparent encroachment on his territory. However, Bryan remained expressionless, his posture rxed as he continued to lean against the wall, seemingly unperturbed by Moody''s words.

    The young wizards all knew that Professor Watson had officially begun teaching dueling in his PE ss, while Professor Moody had just imed he would teach them how to defend against Dark wizards'' magic in ss. This seemed like a direct challenge, and the students held their breath, waiting to see how it would y out.

    "Red-hair¡ª" Moody''s gravelly voice cut through the whispers like a knife.

    His magical eye swiveled over, fixing on Ron with an intensity that made Ron wish he could disappear into his chair. Ron suddenly realized the gravity of his impulsive outburst, feeling as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over him. His body immediately froze, his face paling beneath his freckles.

    "You''re Arthur''s son, aren''t you?" Moody''s scarred face twisted strangely, though it was still possible to see he was attempting to smile. The effect was more unsettling than reassuring. "A few days ago, your father helped me out of a very tricky situation."

    Harry, sitting next to Ron, felt a jolt of recognition. He knew that what Professor Moody was referring to must have been the incident reported in the Daily Prophet. But perhaps due to his wariness of Professor Watson''s presence, Moody didn''t borate on that topic. Instead, he seamlessly transitioned to discussing his ns for the ss.

    "Oh, dueling?" Moody''s voice took on a darker timbre, filled with a mixture of excitement and foreboding. "Not dueling, young Weasley, but something even more exciting than that. It''s about controlling minds, murder, torture. It''s about the Dark magic often used for these purposes."

    A collective shiver ran through the ss at these words. Moody stood at the podium, leaning forward with his grotesque face towards the young wizards in the ssroom. His blue magical eye swiveled back and forth, as if deliberately trying to frighten them. This seemed to be his teaching style, and it was precisely because of this that he had provoked Professor Watson toe and observe.

    With the three Unforgivable Curses: the Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse, Moody officially began his lesson. He had the young wizards name the three curses strictly forbidden by the Ministry of Magic, and then, to the shock and fascination of the ss, he prepared to demonstrate them.

    Moody pulled out his wand and a small ss jar containing threerge ck spiders. The students watched as he began to demonstrate the curses one by one.

    First came the Imperius Curse. Moody erged one of the spiders and sent it cartwheeling around the room, performing acrobatics that would have beenical if not for the terrifying nature of the spell.

    Next was the Cruciatus Curse. The screams of the tortured spider, magically amplified, filled the room. Several students, including Neville, turned pale and looked away.

    Finally, Moody demonstrated the Killing Curse. A sh of blinding green light, a rushing sound, and the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked but unmistakably dead. The silence that followed was deafening.

    Moody had effortlessly captured the young wizards'' attention, immersing them in these dangerous curses. Even Harry, usually so aware of his surroundings, forgot that Professor Watson was currently in the ssroom.

    Watching the stunned young wizards, Bryan''s lips curved into a subtle smile. He suddenly remembered his own time at Hogwarts, that night in his fifth year when he first encountered the most feared of the Unforgivable Curses. He was indeed startled at the time; the Killing Curse did possess a very effective ability to deprive people of life. But as time passed, after so many years of experience and study, these curses were no longer taboo in his eyes. After all, there were many spells that could cruelly take lives, and these curses were not absolutely irresistible.

    "Not pleasant¡ª" Moody''s voice broke the silence, snapping the students back to the present.

    After the sh of bright green light had faded, the ssroom fell into an extreme, almost suffocating silence. It was as if Death himself was floating in the air with his scythe, eyeing everyone menacingly. The students barely dared to breathe, the reality of what they had just witnessed sinking in.

    Moody swept the dead spider off the podium with a casual flick of his wand, its tiny body making a barely audible ''thud'' as it hit the floor. He calmly said, his voice cutting through the tension, "Very unpleasant, and there''s no counter-curse. There''s no blocking it. Only one person is known to have survived it, and he''s sitting right in front of me."

    Both of Moody''s eyes, the normal dark one and the magical blue one, were now looking directly at Harry. Harry felt his face redden; he could sense the entire ss turning to look at him. Harry stared at the empty ckboard, as if fascinated by it, though in reality, he saw nothing.

    "As I said¡ª" Moody withdrew his prating gaze from Harry and calmly continued, addressing the ss once more. "At one time, these curses were used for cruel domination, causing enormous trouble for the Ministry of Magic. So, the Ministry ssified them as Unforgivable. Using any one of these curses on another human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban."

    The students sat in engrossed, barely moving, hardly breathing.

    "That''s what you''re up against. That''s what I''ve got to teach you to fight. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. But most importantly," his voice rose, emphasizing each word, "you need constant, never-ceasing <strong>VIGILANCE</strong>. Get out your quills and copy this down."

    The silence was suddenly broken by the furious scratching of quills as the young wizards bent over their parchment to take notes. The sound filled the room, providing a strange counterpoint to the heavy atmosphere that still lingered from the demonstrations.

    As the students wrote, Moody turned to look at Bryan Watson, who was almost melting into a ray of sunlight by the window. Moody pulled out his sk and took severalrge gulps, the liquid inside sloshing audibly in the quiet room.

    "What do you think, Professor Watson?"

    Moody stood in front of Bryan with both hands on his crutches. When he stood in front of Bryan, his blue magical eye turned inward, its pupil facing the inside of his skull, giving him an even more unsettling appearance.

    "Hmm, what?" Bryan, who had been lost in thought, blinked his eyelids rapidly, his tone filled with genuine confusion. For a moment, it seemed as though he had forgotten where he was.

    "My lesson!" Moody''s cheeks and eyelids twitched simultaneously, his scars contorting his face into a mask of irritation. He suddenly had an overwhelming urge to cast the Killing Curse on Watson. This guy had said he wanted toe and observe his ss, but he was daydreaming during the lesson. The irony was not lost on Moody, and it only served to increase his annoyance.

    "Oh, that¡ª" Bryan blinked his eyes once more, seeming toe back to the present moment. "Not bad, Professor Moody, quite interesting. The young wizards seemed to enjoy it. You''ve earned your qualification to teach at Hogwarts."

    <em>''This guy!''</em>

    Moody''s breathing became erratic, and the scars on his face nearly split open with the intensity of his suppressed anger.

    "However¡ª" Bryan''s gaze fell on Neville, whose shoulders were still slightly trembling. The boy had been badly frightened by the spider that had been subjected to the Cruciatus Curse earlier. Even after some time had passed, Neville still didn''t seem to have returned to normal.

    "I must point out," Bryan continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "that there''s no need to overemphasize the terror of the three Unforgivable Curses to the young wizards. They are merely Dark magic that was frequently used during Voldemort''s active period."

    A collective gasp went through the room at the mention of Voldemort''s name.

    Unperturbed by the reaction, Bryan pressed on. "In my view, these three curses are just... well, Dark magic with a rtively low threshold for use, not overwhelmingly terrifying. Moreover, they are not absolutely undefendable¡ª"

    <strong>Plop¡ª</strong>

    The quill in Harry''s hand fell from his suddenly nerveless fingers, smearing arge ink stain on his notebook. But he didn''t have time to save his ss notes. Instead, he looked at Professor Watson in shock, his green eyes wide behind his round sses.

    <em>''Not absolutely undefendable¡ª</em>

    <em>Did that include the Killing Curse?''</em>

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0476 The Unforgivables (Part-1)

    0476 The Unforgivables (Part-1)

    In the Defense Against the Dark Arts ssroom, the young wizards put down their quills. Their gazes shifted between Professor Watson by the window and Professor Moody at the lectern, who had just told them something remarkable. Confusion stirred in their minds.

    <em>''What was going on?''</em>

    Professor Moody had just demonstrated the three Unforgivable Curses, showing them why these spells were strictly forbidden. But then, Professor Watson offered a different perspective.

    Harry couldn''t help but wonder if Professor Watson was unhappy with Professor Moody and trying to undermine him. However, he quickly dismissed this thought. Given Professor Watson''s current status in the wizarding world, he hardly needed to resort to such clumsy tactics to assert his authority. Yet, he had imed that these three infamous dark spells weren''t as terrifying as people imagined, and that they could even be resisted!

    The young wizards in the room were no strangers to the Wizarding world. Many, like Ron¡ªcame from long-standing wizarding families. They had grown up hearing tales of magical feats and terrors alike, passed down through generations like precious heirlooms. Among these stories, the Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse stood out as the epitome of dark magic¡ªspells so horrific that they were spoken of only in fear.

    Moody stood at the lectern, staring at Bryan. He wasn''t enraged at being contradicted in front of the young wizards. On the contrary, his normal eye held an inexplicably strange look.

    "Why don''t youe up and share your insights, Professor Watson?" Moody''s gravelly voice broke the silence.

    The invitation itself wasn''t unusual, but something in Moody''s tone caught Harry''s attention. The usual harshness of the professor''s voice had softened slightly, carrying an undercurrent of... was that tenderness? Harry blinked in surprise, wondering if his ears were ying tricks on him.

    A quick nce around the room confirmed that he wasn''t alone in his confusion. Many of his ssmates, including Hermione looked equally perplexed. Even Professor Watson himself seemed taken aback, his eyebrows rising slightly in surprise.

    Ron leaned over to Harry, whispering, "Did Moody just sound... nice? Blimey, I thought I was hearing things."

    "You''re not the only one," Harry murmured back, his eyes still fixed on the two professors.

    Hermione shushed them both, her quill ready to take notes on whatever was about to unfold.

    Moody, apparently realizing his uncharacteristic slip, quickly cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice had regained its usual gruff timbre. "We''re all waiting for your insights, Bryan," he growled, his magical eye swiveling to take in the entire ss. "I want to see what novel ideas you cane up with. Of course, an ordinary wizard using an Unforgivable Curse on you wouldn''t stand a chance¡ªyou''re not easily hit. But these young ones don''t have your skills, Bryan. They still need to remain vignt!"

    <strong>"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"</strong> several students muttered under their breath, mimicking Moody''s frequent exhortation.

    Bryan''s lips quirked into a small smile as he pushed himself away from the wall.

    "Remaining vignt is a given," he agreed, his voice calm. He began to move between the rows of desks, his steps slow and deliberate. "But I don''t want to see you over-mystifying certain spells. That will only deepen the fears in their hearts."

    Professor Watson didn''t rush to the lectern topete with Professor Moody for position. He paced between the rows of seats with his hands behind his back, seemingly pondering how to help the young wizards understand. Finally, he stopped beside Harry''s seat.

    "Now, let''s approach this from a different angle. Setting aside the effects of a spell," Bryan began, his voice pitched to carry to every corner of the room, "I prefer to trace the roots of magic. The Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, the Killing Curse ¨C these spells known as the three Unforgivable Curses... First, you need to understand their essence. Or rather, how do they actually work?"

    His gaze swept across the sea of young faces before him, each one a mixture of curiosity, nervousness, and eagerness. It was clear he was expecting¡ªhoping for¡ªsome kind of response. But how could anyone possibly know? Harry thought to himself, noting the deepening furrow in Professor Moody''s brow that indicated the difficulty of Professor Watson''s question.

    In any other ss, a professor''s question was like a gauntlet thrown down, a challenge that demanded to be met. For Hermione, at least, that''s how it usually was. Her hand would shoot into the air before the question was even fully formed, her mind racing ahead to formte the perfect answer. But even she remained silent now, her brown eyes wide with anticipation as she waited for Professor Watson to continue.

    Harry felt a surge of frustration building inside him. He wanted to leap to his feet, to grab Professor Watson by the cor of his shimmering robes and demand the answer. His parents had died under the Killing Curse. If there was truly a way to resist it, if he could understand it... perhaps his parents, wherever they were now, would feel some measure of peace knowing their son could protect himself from their fate.

    The silence stretched on, broken only by the soft creaking of wooden chairs as students shifted ufortably, and the distant hooting of an owl from somewhere on the castle grounds. Professor Watson''s expression softened slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he realized that this group of fourth-year wizards¡ªand one grizzled ex-Auror¡ªcouldn''t provide the answer he sought.

    With a small sigh, he continued, his voice taking on a more educational tone. "The three Unforgivable Curses, in terms of ssification, can all be defined as darker spiritual magic. They target the mind or soul of life ¨C that''s the general idea--"

    Seeing the confusion etched on many faces, Professor Watson began to pace again.

    "The following views are my personal opinions and may not be entirely correct. After all, researching and discussing these three spells is illegal. But they''re close to the truth -- We all know that life isposed of a physical shell and a soul, and between them exists an extremely mysterious andplex connection. Throughout history, both Muggles and wizards have been studying this connection since we became aware of the soul''s existence. Unfortunately, no one has been able to fully understand this connection to date--"

    As he spoke, Bryan made his way back to where he had been standing earlier, near the window. Thete afternoon sun, now lower in the sky, streamed through the curtains, bathing him in a warm, golden light. The radiance turned his soft gray hair into a halo of spun gold, giving him an almost angelic appearance that seemed at odds with the dark subject matter he was discussing.

    "The soul," he continued, his voice taking on a more philosophical tone, "gives life to the physical shell. It''s the source of thought and spiritual/mental power. The three Unforgivable Curses, simple to cast yet difficult to resist or heal, are so potent precisely because they don''t attack the physical body--"

    He paused, noticing the looks of utter bewilderment on most of the young faces before him. Moody, standing silent and imposing at the front of the room, was probably the only one who could barely grasp the depth of what Bryan was saying.

    Recognizing the need to simplify his exnation, Bryan changed tack. "Let''s talk about the Imperius Curse first--"

    Bryan nced at Draco, whose face had be uneasy. This unfortunate young man had personally experienced being under the Imperius Curse, controlled by Peter Pettigrew for several months.

    "With the Imperius Curse, the caster uses magical power as a medium to ovey their will onto the victim''s thoughts/wills. Notice, everyone? There are two key points here: magical power and thoughts/wills--"

    He paused, allowing the information to sink in before continuing in a more matter-of-fact tone. "The Imperius Curse is the least damaging to the victim among the three Unforgivable Curses, because it affects thought, which is the most superficial of the three closely rted aspects: thought, mind, and soul. From the two key points I just mentioned, you can infer two things. First, using the Imperius Curse to control a creature with stronger magical power than you carry risks. Second, using this spell to control someone with more resolute thoughts/will than you are is also risky -- If you do this, even if the victim doesn''t use any magic to resist your control, they might still break free--"

    A wave of understanding seemed to wash over the ssroom. Students nodded, some scribbling hasty notes on their parchments.

    Draco, however, looked far from pleased. His pale face had taken on a slightly greenish tinge, his lips pursed tightly as if he had tasted something sour. ording to Professor Watson''s exnation, both his magical power and his thoughts had been thoroughly defeated by that despicable Peter Pettigrew.

    "Additionally, regarding the Imperius Curse, I''ll add one more point--" Bryan said, his tone measured and calm.

    "In a sense, it''s actually very easy to identify a wizard under the Imperius Curse -- If you use the Imperius Curse on someone, it means your thoughts and magical power enter that person''s body. A wizard with keen perception can easily see through this--"

    "Professor Watson!" Hannah Abbott immediately raised her hand as soon as Bryan finished speaking.

    "If I understand correctly--" Hannah asked curiously, "Is there some kind of magic that can help people resist the control of the Imperius Curse?"

    "Indeed--" Bryan nodded with a smile. "There is an ancient magical technique that can effectively resist all types of mental control spells. Of course, learning it requires a certain talent. We''ll talk about thatter. Now, let''s discuss the Cruciatus Curse--"

    At the mention of this spell, Neville, whoseplexion had just begun to improve, turned pale once again.

    Due to his persistent training in physical education ss, Neville looked much more fit than he did in the first half of third year. His cheeks had be leaner, and his body more toned. However, the confused look in his eyes often made him appear as endearingly naive as ever.

    For instance, right now, he was staring nkly at Bryan, his pale lips quivering.

    "The Cruciatus Curse¡ªYou all just witnessed Professor Moody''s demonstration." Bryan said impassively. "Simply put, this spell inflicts pain ¨C extreme, unbearable pain ¨C that cannot be ovee by willpower alone. Does anyone know why?"

    A heavy silence descended upon the ssroom. The students exchanged uneasy nces, each hoping someone else would volunteer an answer. Harry found himself instinctively looking towards Hermione. He half-expected to see her hand shoot up, eager to share her encyclopedic knowledge. But even Hermione, usually so quick to respond, seemed hesitant.

    Then, to everyone''s shock ¨C including his own, it seemed ¨C Neville''shand trembled its way into the air. Even Professor Watson seemed surprised by this scene as he raised an eyebrow before responding after a few seconds.

    Finally, Professor Watson nodded, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity as he said, "Mr. Longbottom, ah... share your thoughts with us."

    Neville''s face contorted as if he was battling an invisible force. When he spoke, his words came out in short, strained gasps, as though each syble was being forcibly extracted from his lungs.

    "You just said¡ª" he began, his voice barely above a whisper. He paused, gulping for air like a man drowning. Ignoring the mocking and surprised looks, his shoulders were slightly hunched as if trying to make himself smaller, less noticeable.

    "Thoughts¡ªmind¡ªsoul," he continued, each word punctuated by a shaky breath. "The Imperius Curse controls the thoughts. The Cru-Cruciatus Curse, I think, attacks the mind¡ª"

    "Very good, Mr. Longbottom. Five points to Gryffindor," Bryan nodded approvingly at Neville and awarded him points. Normally, except in Professor Sprout''s ss, Neville rarely had the chance to earn praise or points more than twice a year in other sses. However, Neville didn''t seem particrly happy. His gaze remained fixed on Professor Watson''s face, his pupils flickering with anticipation and fear.

    "As I mentioned at the beginning of our discussion," Bryan borated, pacing slowly in front of the ss, his footsteps echoing in the attentive silence, "all three Unforgivable Curses can be ssified as mental dark magic. The pain inflicted by the Cruciatus Curse isn''t manifested in a physical sense that we can observe or touch. It operates on a much more insidious level, bypassing the surface thoughts and tormenting the victim''s very psyche in an almost tangible way. This is precisely why willpower alone cannot resist this pain,"

    Perhaps it was the almost academic way Professor Watson approached the subject, but gradually, the young wizards in the room began to adopt a more rational perspective. The initial fear started to give way to a sort of morbid curiosity. They began to view the Cruciatus Curse not as the terrifying, Ministry-feared spell it was, but almost as if it were just another charm they might learn in Professor Flitwick''s ss ¨C albeit a particrly nasty one.

    But this shift in atmosphere didn''t affect everyone. Two students remained visibly disturbed: Neville and Harry. Their eyes followed Professor Watson''s every move as he continued to pace around the ssroom, their gazes a mixture of anticipation and dread.

    "Because the Cruciatus Curse''s damage urs at such a fundamental level," Bryan borated, his voice taking on a grave tone, "the trauma it inflicts is exponentially more challenging to heal than conventional injuries. The scars it leaves are not visible to the naked eye, but they run deep, oftensting a lifetime¡ª"

    He abruptly paused in his exnation; his attention drawn to a raised hand in the sea of attentive faces. "Yes, Miss Abbott?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0477 The Unforgivables (Part-2) *Large Chapter*

    0477 The Unforgivables (Part-2) *Large Chapter*

    He abruptly paused in his exnation; his attention drawn to a raised hand in the sea of attentive faces. "Yes, Miss Abbott?"

    Hannah Abbott lowered her hand. She flicked her braids behind her shoulders in a nervous gesture before speaking, her voice quavering slightly.

    "You told us earlier not to fear these curses too much," she began, her wordsing out in a rush. "I mean, the Unforgivable Curses. But what you''re telling us now... it seems to confirm that we can''t resist them at all. How are we supposed to not be afraid?"

    Beside Hannah, Ernie Macmin nodded vigorously in agreement. However, when Professor Watson''s prating gaze fell upon them, Ernie quickly ducked his head, as if trying to distance himself from the question.

    "If I were to use Transfiguration to turn your bag into a knife right now and sh your throat with it, do you think you could resist that, Miss Abbott?" Bryan asked, his tone disturbingly calm given the violent scenario he had just described.

    "Of course not!" Hannah shuddered as if she could feel a cold de against her neck. She quickly returned to the topic at hand, while Hermione nodded thoughtfully on the other side of the room.

    "So, do you understand now?" Bryan continued, his gaze sweeping across the ssroom. "Many dark spells and offensive curses, once they make contact with you, leave little room for defense or resistance. There''s no chance of healing or struggle. From that perspective, the Imperius and Cruciatus Curses, as horrible as they are, at least don''t result in immediate death. In fact, even after being struck by these curses, there remains a possibility, however slim, of recovery and healing¡ª"

    As these words left his lips, Bryan, who had been keenly observing the ss, immediately noticed a change in Neville''s demeanor. The boy''s face, already pale, seemed to drain of what little color remained.

    "Do you have a question, Mr. Longbottom?"

    When faced with this question, Neville''s gaze became evasive. He didn''t dare look directly at Professor Watson, instead lowered his head to stare at the open "Guide to Defense Against the Dark Arts" on his desk, stammering.

    "Neville¡ª" Hermione reminded him anxiously, "Professor Watson is speaking to you!"

    Despite Hermione''s reminder being loud enough for most of the ss to hear, Neville seemed oblivious to it. His fists were clenched so tightly under the desk that his knuckles had turned white, and his entire body trembled slightly, as if he was fighting some internal battle.

    Harry, momentarily distracted from his own anticipation about learning about thest of the three Unforgivable Curses, looked at Neville in bewilderment. He couldn''t understand what had triggered such a strong reaction in the usually quiet Neville.

    "Perhaps¡ª" As Bryan began to speak, Moody, who had been inconspicuous on the tform, suddenly spoke up. He said thoughtfully, "Mr. Longbottom wants to know if there''s a possibility of healing for wizards who have suffered damage from the Cruciatus Curse Isn''t that right, Longbottom?"

    Neville''s head shot up, staring at Professor Moody in horror, only to receive a meaningful smile in return.

    "I see¡ª" Bryan nodded thoughtfully, his eyes growing deep with understanding as he observed the unfolding scene. In that moment, a piece of the puzzle clicked into ce in his mind. Neville''s rtives most probably had suffered torture from the Cruciatus Curse and had not yet recovered.

    Looking at Neville, whose face had now turned as pale as freshly fallen snow, Bryan''s eyes grew deep.

    "Well, it depends on the situation¡ª" After pondering for a few seconds, Bryan calmly said,"The extent of the damage is a crucial factor. If the caster''s magical power was mediocre and their malicious intent wasn''t particrly strong ¨C meaning the power of the Cruciatus Curse wasn''t at its full potential ¨C St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries has developed several treatment protocols. These methods can help victims gradually recover, often leading to a full restoration of health."

    The ss listened in rapt attention, but it was clear to everyone that this generalized answer wasn''t what Neville was desperately seeking to know.

    Moody, his magical eye now fixed unwaveringly on Neville, pressed further.

    "What about those who have suffered from an extremely powerful Cruciatus Curse?" he asked, his scarred face set in a grim expression. As he spoke, he nced briefly at Hermione, acknowledging the young witch who had been the first to notice Neville''s distress during the earlier demonstration and had stood up to prevent him from experimenting with the curse on the spider.

    Bryan''s expression grew more serious as he considered the question. "That''s a far moreplex scenario," he said, his gaze shifting from Neville to address the entire ss. "As I exined earlier, the Cruciatus Curse attacks a creature''s psyche at its very core. An overly powerful Cruciatus Curse can shatter a person''s entire mental world, causing them to lose their grip on reality and, in the most severe cases, their sanity. If someone were to encounter such a traumatic situation¡ª"

    He suddenly fell silent, the weight of his unfinished sentence hanging heavily in the air. The ss held its collective breath, waiting for him to continue. After a long silence, Bryan spoke again, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.

    "I apologize, everyone. I must admit that I haven''t delved as deeply into this particr issue. As a result, I''m not in a position to provide specific solutions or treatment options for such severe cases."

    The disappointment in the room was palpable, especially from Neville, whose brief flicker of hope seemed to dim considerably at these words.

    Moody''s magical eye spun wildly in its socket, finally targeting the dejected Neville. He asked gruffly, "It''s not absolutely impossible to achieve full recovery, is it, Professor Watson?"

    "There might be some way, but specific situations need to be discussed individually. You see, this type of magical damage is quite unique¡ª"

    Bryan''s words were tactful, but everyone could tell that he believed there was some but little hope for those whose mental worlds had been shattered by the Cruciatus Curse.

    ncing at the clock on the wall, Bryan spoke faster, "Lastly, let''s discuss the Killing curse. What do you think¡ª"

    "It attacks our souls, doesn''t it?" Harry interrupted, his face ashen as he recalled the green sh that had appeared in his moments of confusion, the screaming woman, and the cruelughter. Ignoring his ssmates'' strange looks, Harry asked urgently, "The Killing curse attacks a wizard''s soul, so... so¡ª"

    Harry wracked his brains trying to express his thoughts.

    "If someone is hit by the curse, is there any way¡ª"

    "You''ve forgotten Professor Moody''s teaching, Mr. Potter¡ª" Professor Watson''s eyelids flickered slightly, a gleam of light dancing in his pale purple eyes for a moment.

    "If hit by the Killing curse, one dies instantly. There''s no possibility of being cured. But I must point out an error in your assumption, Mr. Potter. It doesn''t attack a creature''s soul. It''s a very effective cutting or separation spell. What it targets is, as I mentioned at the beginning, the mysterious connection between the body and the soul. It severs this connection, stripping away your life force, thus bringing about death, Mr. Potter¡ª"

    The essence of the Killing Curse, as Bryan had just exined, was to sever the delicate, almost ethereal connection between soul and body. This revtion sent ripples of unease through the ssroom. Even Moody standing on the podium looked perplexed, his brow deeply furrowed as he didn''t understand what he heard.

    Sensing the confusion and uneasiness in the room, Bryan decided to borate further.

    "Allow me to exin it more clearly," Bryan raised both hands, gesturing in front of him.

    "Imagine, if you will, a bridge ¨C a structure both tangible and intangible. This bridge represents the mysterious connection that exists between our physical bodies and our incorporeal souls."

    As he spoke, wisps of silvery mist began to emanate from the tip of his wand, coalescing in the air before him to form a shimmering, spectral bridge. The students leaned forward, captivated by the magical illustration.

    "The fundamental principle of the Killing Curse," Bryan continued, his pale purple eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had everyone''s attention, "is to cut this bridge, to sever irreversibly the link between soul and body."

    With a sharp flick of his wand, a bolt of green light ¨C eerily reminiscent of the actual curse ¨C sliced through the misty bridge. The silvery structure shattered, dissipating into nothingness.

    "Once struck by the curse, your soul loses its anchor in this world. It''s violently torn away, forced to leave your body and cross over to the other shore ¨C which we know as death." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, "This is why it''s said that those hit by the Killing Curse cannot be cured or saved."

    This vivid exnation, coupled with the magical demonstration, drove the point home for most of the young wizards. Understanding dawned on their faces, quickly followed by looks of horror as the full implications sank in.

    A heavy silence fell over the ssroom, broken only by the sound of quills scratching furiously on parchment as some students, Hermione chief among them, rushed to note down every word.

    Bryan noticing the silence that had fallen over his students, attempted to soften the blow. "It''s important to remember," he said, his tone gentle, "that there are many spells capable of taking lives. Even mundane objects ¨C a well-aimed brick or arrow, for instance ¨C can be just as fatal."

    But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears. The students couldn''t shake off the chilling knowledge of magic so evil, that it could tear apart the essence of a person''s being and severe the connection between one''s soul and body.

    Harry sitting at the front of the ss, felt a leaden weight settle in his stomach. He knew he shouldn''t have harbored unrealistic expectations, but after understanding Professor Watson''s exnation, he couldn''t help but feel utterly crestfallen.

    Professor Watson had made it painfully clear: the Killing Curse was fatal, impossible to defend against, and offered no possibility of cure. There was simply no way to rebuild the connection between body and soul once it had been severed.

    Bryan, who had been lingering near Harry''s desk, observed the gloomy expressions of the young wizards around him.

    Suddenly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the oppressive silence like a knife. When he spoke, there was a hint of mischief in his voice,

    "I''ve just exined the principle behind this terrible spell," he said, his eyes twinkling with barely suppressed amusement. "Now, let''s talk about some... shall we say, unconventional methods to counter the Killing Curse."

    The change in his tone was like a ssh of cold water on the students'' collective face. Heads snapped up, eyes widened in disbelief and confusion.

    "But Professor!" Harry eximed, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. "You just told us the Killing Curse is impossible to resist!"

    "Not orthodox methods, Mr. Potter," Bryan said smiling, his gaze sweeping across the ssroom, taking in the bewildered faces of his students. "Just some... underhanded tricks.

    Perhaps you''ve already realized the fundamental w in the Killing Curse. Yes, this magic, for all its terrible power, cannot cause area-damage or ranged-damage."

    He began to pace slowly in front of the ss, his robes swishing softly with each measured step. "In other words, if a dark wizard wanted to kill ten people with this spell, they''d have to wave their wand ten separate times. It''s this very nature ¨C its specificity in targeting the connection between body and soul ¨C that allows us to employ some rather... sneaky methods of defense."

    Harry''s brow furrowed in confusion. The idea of using ''sneaky methods'' against what was arguably the most dangerous of the three Unforgivable Curses seemed almostughable. And yet, there was something in Professor Watson''s demeanor, a confidence bordering on smugness, that made Harry lean forward in anticipation.

    "Do you have any more of those little darlings you used to demonstrate the spell, Professor Moody?" Suddenly, Bryan turned to face the podium where Moody stood. "I believe I need to conduct a small demonstration of my own."

    "By all means, Professor Watson. Let''s see your clever idea!"

    With a grunt, Moody pulled open a drawer in the podium. The spiders he had used earlier for his grim demonstration were apparently gone. Instead, he produced a ss bottle filled with dozens of wriggling earthworms.

    "Thank you, that''s exactly what I need," Bryan said with a slight nod of appreciation and a wand sprung from his sleeve.

    The sight of the bottle and the sudden appearance of the wand sent a ripple of rm through the ssroom. There was a cacophony of scraping chairs and shuffling feet as the terrified young wizards around Professor Watson unanimously pushed their benches back, scrambling to put as much distance between themselves and whatever was about to happen as possible.

    Only Harry remained in ce, his curiosity overwhelming his instinct for self-preservation. He leaned forward eagerly, green eyes wide with anticipation, wondering what Professor Watson could possibly have in mind.

    With a loud ''Bang!'' that made several students jump, Bryan flicked his wand. The wooden cork of the ss bottle shot off to one side, narrowly missing Neville''s ear and eliciting a startled yelp from the boy.

    Then, as if pulled by invisible strings, the wriggling earthworms began to float out of the bottle. They hung suspended in mid-air, twisting helplessly, their segmented bodies glistening under the ssroom''s magical lighting.

    "Next is¡ª" Bryan''s voice trailed off as he focused intently on the brown, tangled mass of worms. His wand moved in aplex pattern, too fast for the students'' eyes to follow. Suddenly, with two strange, high-pitched squeaks that set everyone''s teeth on edge, the number of worms exploded, increasing by dozens of times in the blink of an eye!

    The reaction from the ss was instantaneous and varied. Lavender let out a short, sharp scream that echoed off the stone walls. If it hadn''t been for Parvati''s quick reflexes, Lavender might have toppled right off her chair in her haste to get away from the squirming mass. As it was, she huddled in Parvati''s arms, covering her eyes with both hands and trembling uncontrobly.

    Ron who had been immensely relieved that Moody hadn''t brought out spiders this time, couldn''t help but find Lavender''s extreme reaction somewhat amusing. A smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, though he tried to hide it behind his hand, not wanting to seem insensitive.

    Even Harry, for all his eagerness to see what Professor Watson had nned, couldn''t help but lean back slightly. Therge mass of wriggling earthworms was undeniably disgusting.

    "¡ªThe key!" Bryan''s voice cut through the mix of horrified gasps and nervous giggles. With another flick of his wrist, the six or seven-inch-long earthworms were abruptly separated. They began to rearrange themselves in mid-air, twisting and turning as if guided by an invisible hand. Gradually, to the astonishment of the entire ss, they began to form the unmistakable shape of a garment!

    A collective "Ugh!" rose from the students, with Hermione''s gasp of realization rising above the rest. She covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with a mixture of disgust and admiration. It was clear from her expression that she had already figured out Professor Watson''s idea as had Moody on the podium.

    "Aha!" Moody eximed; his gruff voice filled with appreciation. "What a cunning method, Bryan! Truly ingenious!"

    Harry''s head whipped around so fast he nearly gave himself whish. "What?!" he blurted out, his gaze darting between Hermione and the floating, worm-shaped garment. "What''s going on?"

    Hermione, her voice muffled behind her hands, pointed at the worms and whispered, "Clothes, Harry! He''s suggesting making clothes with earthworms!"

    "It doesn''t necessarily have to be earthworms, Miss Granger," Bryan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement at the mix of horror and fascination on his students'' faces. "Any small creatures will do, really. As long as there are enough of them packed densely together, they can effectively help you block a Killing Curse."

    As understanding dawned across the room, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The initial disgust gave way to excitement as the brilliance of the idea sank in. Who would have thought there was such an unconventional way to resist an Unforgivable Curse?!

    ording to Professor Watson''s earlier exnation, the Killing Curse targeted the connection between a creature''s body and soul. This damage was indiscriminate ¨C it would affect whatever living thing it hit first. So, if one were to wear a specially made protective suit and mask filled with these small creatures, wouldn''t the Killing Curse bepletely nullified? After all, even the most powerful Killing Curse couldn''t extinguish multiple lives at once!

    The ssroom suddenly erupted into a cacophony of excited chatter. Students who moments ago had been pale with fear were now vigorously discussing the possibilities. Even those whocked a direct understanding of this magic''s former dominance couldn''t help but be impressed by Professor Watson''s ingenious idea.

    Of course, there were also dissenting voices amidst the excitement.

    "I''d rather die from an Unforgivable Curse than hang hundreds of earthworms on my body!" Lavender eximed, her face a mask of horror. She was still clinging to Parvati, struggling to breathe at the mere thought of being covered in wriggling worms. "Oh, it''s too disgusting! I think I''m going to be sick!"

    Sensing that the excitement was reaching a fever pitch, Bryan decided it was time to temper their enthusiasm with a dose of reality. "I must remind you of one crucial thing," he said, his voice cutting through the chatter and immediately gaining attention. The students fell silent, their eyes fixed on him with rapt attention.

    "As I said earlier," he continued, his tone serious, "this method is just a trick. A clever one, certainly, but still just a trick. It can help you avoid an ambush or a fatal mistake in a face-to-face duel, but after that initial surprise, it won''t be of much use anymore."

    He paused, letting his words sink in before exining further. "Your opponent, assuming they''re not aplete fool, will quickly figure out what you''ve done. With just a few simple spells, they can easily ruin your improvised defense. So, don''t make the mistake of thinking you can win a life-or-death duel by relying solely on clever tricks."

    His gaze swept across the room, meeting each student''s eyes in turn. "To truly defend yourself against dark magic, you must be steady and methodical. Learn your theory, hone your practical skills, and above all else, always remain vignt."

    As he finished speaking, Bryan''s eyes flickered to the clock hanging on the wall. "We have five minutes left before the end of ss," he announced. "Now, let''s start summarizing what we''ve learned today."

    He sped his hands behind his back, adopting a more professorial stance. "There''s an important question I want you all to consider: We''ve discussed the Imperius Curse, the Cruciatus Curse, and the Killing Curse. I''ve encouraged you not to fear these too much, because the truth is, there are countless decent spells that can take lives or leave the cursed in a state worse than death.

    So, why does the Ministry of Magic forbid the use of these three curses specifically? Why are they singled out as ''Unforgivable'' spells?"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0478 The Unforgivables (Part-3)

    0478 The Unforgivables (Part-3)

    As the ancient clock tower of Hogwarts began to chime, signaling the imminent end of the Defense Against the Dark Arts ss, Bryan didn''t keep them in suspense for long. His earlier question about the Unforgivable Curses still hung in the air, but he chose not to wait for raised hands or hesitant answers. Instead, heunched into his exnation.

    "There are several crucial reasons on why these spells are considered unforgivable," he began, his voice carrying easily to every corner of the room. "First and foremost, we must consider the profound and irreversible effects of these three curses. They represent magic at its most potent and, arguably, its most terrible."

    "Secondly," Bryan continued, his tone taking on a more ominous note, "and this maye as a shock to many of you ¨C the threshold for casting these spells is not nearly as high as one might hope or expect. In fact," he leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting, "it''s entirely within the realm of possibility that even wizards at the OWLS level could with the right technique sessfully cast these curses."

    A collective shudder ran through the room. Students began to cast furtive nces at their neighbors, as if suddenly reevaluating their ssmates as potential threats. Lavender still pale from the earlier demonstration, inched her chair away from those nearest to her, her eyes wide with renewed fear.

    "But the most crucial factor," Bryan pressed on, "lies in a characteristic shared by all three Unforgivable Curses. It''s a traitmon to many spells ssified as Dark Magic, and it bears a striking simrity to a spell you may be more familiar with ¨C the Patronus Charm used to repel Dementors."

    At the mention of the Patronus Charm, a ripple of interest passed through the ss. Many students sat up straighter, their curiosity piqued. The previous year''s dramatic events during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, where Professor Watson had conjured a spectacr Patronus, had left asting impression on the school, so they had some knowledge about Patronus Charm.

    "Can anyone tell me," Bryan asked, his eyes scanning the room, "what is the key to sessfully casting a Patronus Charm?"

    Harry shot his hand into the air, nearly lifting him out of his seat in his eagerness to answer. Bryan''s lips quirked in a small smile as he nodded towards the boy.

    "It''s a happy memory, sir," Harry said. "The strength of the Patronus depends on the power of the happy memory you focus on while casting. If... if the happy memory is more profound, then the Patronus you conjure will also be stronger--"

    As Harry spoke, Draco''s face contorted into a sneer of disdain.

    "Excellent, Mr. Potter," Bryan nodded approvingly. "Five points to Gryffindor. You may sit down." He turned to address the ss as a whole, his expression growing more serious. "As Mr. Potter has astutely pointed out, many advanced forms of magic harness the power of emotions. The Patronus Charm channels positive emotions, but the Unforgivable Curses... they tap into something far darker."

    "For the three Unforgivable Curses, the key lies in the caster''s malicious intent. The more powerful you want the spell to be, the crueler and more vicious your thoughts must be. You see," he said, his eyes scanning the engrossed faces before him, "a wizard''s pursuit of magical power is often relentless, bordering on obsessive. These curses prey on that desire, encouraging the caster to delve deeper into cruelty, to fill their mind with increasingly sadistic thoughts. They drag you into an abyss of darkness from which it is nearly impossible to escape."

    A chill seemed to settle over the ssroom as Bryan''s words sank in.

    "This pattern," Bryan went on, his voice low and intense, "ismon among many Dark Magic spells. They lure the user with promises of immense power, all the while corrupting their very essence. Unless one possesses exceptional mental fortitude and an unshakeable will, dabbling in such magic is a perilous endeavor. Curiosity, in this case, can indeed be a dangerous thing."

    As if on cue, the bell rang, signaling the end of the ss. Bryan, known for his admirable habit of never running overtime, immediately gathered his materials and made for the exit, leaving the students to ponder his ominous words.

    In the ensuingmotion of students packing up their belongings, Hermione''s voice cut through the noise.

    "Oh! Professor Watson forgot to mention one crucial detail!" She was frowning, her eyes fixed on the door through which Bryan had just departed. "He told us there''s an ancient technique that can effectively resist mental magic attacks like the Imperius Curse, but he didn''t borate on what it was. I simply must get to the library!"

    Ron in the process of stuffing his textbooks haphazardly into his bag, looked up at Hermione. "You''ll need to get a note first," he pointed out. "If you''re looking for magic that can resist the Imperius Curse, those books are bound to be in the Restricted Section." He paused, a hint of confusion crossing his freckled face. "By the way, what was that about this morning? Harry mentioned you thought Professor Moody was wrong to punish Malfoy?"

    <strong>Ahem--</strong>

    At Ron''s words, Harry, who had been lost in thought about whether Hagrid might know of any small magical creatures less repulsive than earthworms or spiders for his theoretical anti-Killing Curse armor, suddenly snapped to attention. He coughed loudly, twice, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

    Hermione nced sideways at Harry and let out a soft snort.

    Their exchange was interrupted by Moody''s gruff voice calling out from the front of the ssroom. "Longbottom," he said, his magical eye swiveling to fix on Neville, who had nearly reached the door. "I assume you don''t have anything else nned before lunch. Perhaps you''d care to join me in my office for a spot of tea?"

    Neville, who had been wearing a distracted, almost dazed expression since the lesson on the Cruciatus Curse, jolted violently at the sound of Moody''s gruff voice which had taken on an oddly gentle tone, and this seemed to unnerve Neville even further. He looked helplessly towards the three ssmates he was most familiar with in the ssroom.

    Hermione''s eyes narrowed as she red at Professor Moody, clearly on the verge of voicing an objection. But something ¨C perhaps the peculiar gentleness in Moody''s manner ¨C made her hesitate.

    Moody noticed Hermione''s reaction immediately. His magical eye fixed upon her as a kind smile spread across his scarred face. "It''s quite alright, Miss Granger," he assured her. "I just wish to share a cup of tea with Mr. Longbottom. I have a few books that I believe he might find particrly interesting."

    Without waiting for further protest, Moody ced a gnarled hand on Neville''s shoulder and steered him out of the ssroom. Neville casted onest pleading look at his friends before disappearing into the corridor.

    As the door closed behind them, Ron turned to Harry and Hermione, his brow furrowed in suspicion. "A few books that Neville might find interesting?" he repeated skeptically. "Do either of you actually believe that?"

    Harry hesitated, his green eyes clouded with concern. Instead of answering Ron''s question directly, he voiced the worry that had been gnawing at him throughout the lesson. "You''ve both noticed it too, haven''t you? Something''s not right with Neville."

    Ron''s face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, clearly having missed the subtle signs that had rmed Harry and Hermione.

    Hermione sighed, shaking her head at Ron''s obliviousness. "Neville is absolutely terrified of the Cruciatus Curse," she exined. "It''s more than just fear. The questions he was asking... it''s quite obvious, isn''t it? Someone in his family must have been tortured with the Cruciatus Curse, and from his reaction, I''d say they suffered severe,sting damage."

    "His grandmother?" Harry blurted out, but almost immediately shook his head, dismissing the idea. "No, that can''t be right. Neville mentioned that his grandmother refused to let him go to the Quidditch World Cup over the summer. She must be of sound mind to make that kind of decision." He paused, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Neville has an uncle who''s quite fond of him, doesn''t he? What was the name of Neville''s great-uncle... Algie, wasn''t it?"

    Hermione struggled to hoist her overstuffed book bag onto her shoulder, nearly toppling under its weight. She fixed Harry and Ron with a serious, almost stern look. "Whoever it is," she said firmly, "it''s clear that Neville would prefer to keep this private. So, you two are absolutely forbidden from asking him about it, understood?"

    Without waiting for a response, Hermione hurried out of the ssroom. She had an Arithmancy ss before lunch and couldn''t afford to bete.

    Ron watched her go and grumbled. "Oh, she''s treating us like we''replete idiots again!"

    It wasn''t until lunchtime that Harry caught sight of Neville again in the Great Hall. He was sitting alone at the Gryffindor table, seemingly oblivious to the lively conversations swirling around him. While his ssmates eagerly discussed Professor Watson''s unconventional teaching methods and the morning''s extraordinary Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Neville was hunched over severalrge, leather-bound tomes, his round face a mask of intense concentration.

    As Harry approached, he noticed that Neville seemed calmer than he had been during ss, though still not quite his usual self. His eyes were rimmed with red, suggesting he might have been crying.

    "Are you alright, Neville?" Harry asked gently as he and Ron drew near.

    Neville''s head snapped up, startled by the sudden address. "Oh, I''m fine," he replied, his voice a touch too bright to be entirely convincing. "I''m doing well, thank you. Just reading this fascinating book Professor Moody lent me."

    He tilted the cover so Harry could read the title: "Magical Mediterranean Water-nts and Their Properties."

    "Apparently, Professor Sprout mentioned to Moody that I''m really good at Herbology," Neville exined, a hint of pride creeping into his voice that Harry rarely heard before. "Professor Moody thought I''d find this interesting."

    Harry couldn''t help but notice the way Neville''s eyes darted away as he spoke, the slight tremor in his hands as he closed the book. It was clear that, just as Ron had tried to hide his disappointment at being excluded from the Physical Education ss, Neville was attempting to conceal something from them. Without a doubt, it had to be rted to his family, but Harry, heeding Hermione''s earlier warning, refrained from pressing the issue.

    As they settled into their seats, Harry''s gaze instinctively drifted towards the staff table. What he saw ¨C or rather, didn''t see ¨C caused him to do a double-take. "What''s going on?" he muttered, more to himself than to his friends.

    The staff table was eerily empty. Professor Dumbledore''s chair was vacant, as did the seats usually upied by Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and several other faculty members. Even Professor Watson, who had left the ssroom few minutes ago, was nowhere to be seen. Only Snape was shamelessly in his seat, his sallow face set in its usual scowl as he picked at his meal.

    In all his years at Hogwarts, Harry had never witnessed so many professors absent from a meal simultaneously. A knot of unease began to form in his stomach.

    <em>''Could something be amiss at the school?''</em>

    Turning back to Neville, Harry asked urgently, "With so many professors missing, have you heard any rumors?"

    Neville''s eyes widened in surprise as he too noticed the unusual absence. "They weren''t here when I arrived," he said, shaking his head. "I hadn''t even noticed until you pointed it out."

    Meanwhile, on the third floor of the castle.

    Bryan, who had been calmly adjusting a monitoring mirror in his office, suddenly furrowed his brow. He abandoned his work, leapt out from among a pile ofponents, and strode quickly towards the door. He pulled it open before the knock could even sound.

    There, crowding the corridor outside his office, stood what appeared to be the entire Hogwarts faculty. At the forefront was Dumbledore himself. Behind him, looking concerned and agitated, were Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, and others.

    "Everyone?" Looking at the crowd of professors blocking his doorway, Bryan asked seriously, "Has something serious happened?!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0479 Gathering

    0479 Gathering

    Standing at the door of his office was Headmaster Dumbledore, followed by Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, and several other staff members. They had all arrived at his office door in unison¡ªa scene Bryan had never witnessed before.

    "What''s going on? Has something major happened?" In that instant, numerous thoughts shed through Bryan''s mind, but none could exin what could be serious enough to bring so many professors to his door at once.

    "Don''t be rmed, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore''s silver-white beard swayed as he said with a smile, "Filius, Minerva, and the rest of us are here to¡ªoh, why don''t we go inside to talk? Some matters are best discussed over a nice cup of tea, don''t you think?""

    Bryan''s keen gaze darted from one face to another, noting the urgency barely concealed in Professor McGonagall''s stern face and the barely contained excitement in Professor Flitwick''s eyes. Curiosity piqued, he raised an eyebrow, "Very well," he agreed, ncing at the clock on his wall. "It''s mealtime now. We could have a private gathering¡ªthough I daresay my humble office might be a bit cramped for such an illustrious assembly."

    With a weing gesture, Bryan escorted his colleagues into his office. The space, while not small by any means, was cluttered with an extensive range of magical instruments. Scattered across the floor were dozens of Omni-ocrs in various states of disassembly.

    Bryan with a casual flick of his wand sent the Omni-ocrs and their numerous parts neatly arranging themselves into a magically expanded storage box. The lid snapped shut with a satisfying click, leaving the floor clear but the room still noticeably crowded with the unexpected influx of visitors.

    As Bryan surveyed his office, still inadequate to amodate such a gathering, he began to contemte how to conjure enough seating for everyone.

    Dumbledore who had been eyeing Bryan''s collection of alchemical instruments with undisguised interest turned to Bryan with a gentle smile. "No need to trouble yourself, Bryan, we can manage¡ªafter all, what kind of wizards would we be if we couldn''t conjure our own seating arrangements?"

    Taking their cue from Dumbledore, each professor pulled out their wand with a flourish. The air in the office suddenly crackled with magical energy as, one by one, the professors demonstrated their prowess in conjuration and transfiguration.

    Professor McGonagall transformed a nearby stack of parchments into a high-backed tartan armchair,plete with a footstool. Professor Flitwick, standing on his tiptoes to achieve the proper wand angle, caused a plush violet cushion to materialize beneath him, elevating him to eye level with his taller colleagues. Professor Sprout conjured a rustic wooden stool that seemed to sprout leaves and tiny flowers where it touched the stone floor.

    As the professors settled into their newly conjured seats, a particrly mboyant piece of furniture caught everyone''s attention. A coffee table, its legs carved to resemble those of a dancing deer, had appeared in the center of the room. It moved with an almost lifelike grace, spinning between them beforeing to rest in the perfect position to serve them all.

    Bryan, amused by the sudden transformation of his office into an impromptu faculty lounge, began the task of hospitality. With a series of intricate wand movements, he summoned a gleaming silver tea service. The teapot began to steam, filling the air with theforting aroma of perfectly brewed Earl Grey. Delicate cups and saucers floated through the air, arranging themselves neatly on the dancing coffee table.

    As his colleagues helped themselves to tea and a te of biscuits that had materialized alongside the tea service, Bryan turned his attention to the ambiance of the room. With another wave of his wand, the curtains drew themselves back, allowing the warm afternoon sunlight to flood the office. The windows swung open with a gentle breeze that carried with it the scent of the Hogwarts grounds.

    With the scene set and his guestsfortably seated, Bryan felt it was finally time to address the Hippogriff in the room. Rather than taking a seat himself, he perched casually on the arm of a nearby sofa.

    "So then," he began, his eyes sweeping across the assembled faces, noting the varying degrees of anticipation and excitement. "What exactly is this about? It''s not often I find myself hosting an impromptu gathering of Hogwarts'' finest professors in my humble office."

    It was Professor Flitwick who could no longer contain his excitement.

    "We heard from the young wizards, Bryan," He stood up on his conjured cushion and asked in his squeaky voice, "You''ve invented a new method to help the students learn spells, haven''t you? Miss Patil told me all about it in Charms ss today. Learning magic in your Spiritual world¡ªit''s absolutely fascinating! She reached a high level of proficiency in both the Stunning Spell and the Disarming Charm in just three hours! It''s incredible, truly incredible. She said your method could pinpoint exactly where her problems were!"

    Professor McGonagall, her eyes sharp behind her square spectacles, leaned forward in her tartan armchair.

    "I presume it has a simr effect on Transfiguration, doesn''t it, Bryan?" She asked in her Scottish ent tinged with unmistakable interest. "Transfiguration is, after all, aplex branch of spellwork. If this method of yours can be used to elerate the learning of charms, surely it would be equally effective for Transfiguration. Would you mind demonstrating your brilliant idea to us, Bryan? I''m sure we''re all eager to see it in action."

    Bryan''s eyebrows rose even higher. "Oh, so that''s what this is about?" he said, a hint of relief coloring his voice. He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly. "I must admit, when I saw you all at my door, I thought the Ministry of Magic was nning to disband Hogwarts!"

    "You know, Bryan, our energy is limited," Professor McGonagall said ignoring Bryan''s small joke, her tone urgent but tinged with hope. "We don''t have enough time to give every young wizard the individual attention and guidance they need, especially when ites to masteringplex spells. But some students¡ª" she paused, clearly choosing her words carefully, "¡ªwell, let''s take Mr. Longbottom as an example. He has potential, but he indeed needs a great deal of practice and guidance to keep up with the progress of his peers. I heard that your method can teach many young wizards simultaneously, providing some personalized instruction to each. Perhaps we could learn from your approach¡ª"

    As Professor McGonagall finished speaking, a chorus of agreement rose from the other professors. Each voiced their own perspective, painting a picture of the challenges they faced in their respective subjects and the potential solutions Bryan''s invention might offer.

    Bryan listened attentively to each of his colleagues, his eyes asionally darting to Dumbledore, who had remained silent throughout the discussion.

    "Is this why you''re here too, Headmaster Dumbledore?" Bryan asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

    Dumbledore''s eyes twinkled merrily behind his half-moon spectacles as he stroked his long beard thoughtfully.

    "I am indeed very interested, Bryan, if your method can be widely adopted to significantly improve the teaching efficiency of some courses, I have no reason not to pay attention. Hogwarts has always prided itself on being at the forefront of magical education, after all. Of course," he added, a note of caution entering his voice, "we must first ensure that it''s safe. The well-being of our students is paramount, as I''m sure you''ll agree."

    Bryan''s lips curled into a secret smile, hidden quickly behind his teacup. As everyone knew, Dumbledore hadrgely withdrawn from involvement in Hogwarts'' daily teaching and operations in recent years. For him to suddenly show such keen interest in his little teaching innovation... well, it was curious, to say the least. A thought skimmed across Bryan''s mind¡ª<em>''Dumbledore... he wouldn''t be using this as an excuse to peek into my Spiritual world, would he?''</em>

    Setting his cup down with a gentle clink, Bryan addressed the professors. "Alright, I think I understand your interest," he began, his brow furrowing slightly as he gathered his thoughts. "But there are some issues we need to consider¡ª"

    "What are they, Bryan?" Professor Flitwick interjected anxiously, leaning forward on his cushion, nearly toppling off in his eagerness.

    Bryan paused for a few moments, choosing his words carefully. When he spoke, his voice was measured and thoughtful. "Whether it''s charms, transfiguration, or other types of spellcasting, my method can indeed elerate the students'' learning progress and deepen their understanding of magic¡ªas you''ve all heard from the students what I''ve told them. The process involves bringing them into my Spiritual world, an illusory space of my own magical consciousness, where they can practice against what I call ''standard Magical Constructs'' of the spells they''re trying to master."

    He paused, making sure everyone was following his exnation before continuing. "In this Spiritual world, each young wizard can receive semi-personalized, corresponding guidance. But you must all understand," he emphasized, his gaze sweeping across the faces of his colleagues, "these instructionse directly from me. Those magical constructs are imbued with my experience, my thoughts, my understanding of magic. It''s my mental strength or my magical essence, if you will¡ªthat maintains this teaching method."

    Bryan''s eyes lingered on each of his fellow professors in turn as he continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "As for you all¡ªand please don''t take this as any sort of slight on your considerable abilities¡ªthoughts and experiences can be extracted through magic, yes. We''ve all used Pensieves, after all. But to provide unlimited, simultaneous guidance to multiple young wizards? The burden would be... well, frankly, it would be too great for most wizards to bear."

    The implication of Bryan''s words hung heavy in the air. Without saying it outright, he had made it clear: they, as skilled and powerful as they were, simply didn''t possess the mental strength necessary to sustain this kind of psychic and spiritual magic on the scale he was describing.

    The disappointment on Professor Flitwick''s face was palpable. He seemed to dete slightly, sinking back onto his cushion. Heaven knows how delighted he had been when he first learned of Bryan''s ingenious invention. Like all teachers, Flitwick was acutely aware that not every young wizard had the naturalprehension abilities of a Percy Weasley or a Hermione Granger, who could graspplex magical concepts after just one or two exnations in ss.

    The harsh reality was that most young wizardscked a systematic understanding of magic. They often found themselves in a perpetual state of confusion, requiring countless practice sessions to master even rtively simple spells. And perhaps most frustratingly, by the time the final exams rolled around, they would have forgotten much of what they had learned earlier in the year.

    Neville Longbottom was a prime example of this struggle, though Flitwick''s mind also drifted to Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle from Slytherin, whose fathers, he recalled with a slight grimace, had been equally muddle-headed during their time at Hogwarts.

    Despite the setback, Professor Flitwick''s irrepressible enthusiasm couldn''t be dampened for long. His squeaky voice piped up once more, filled with hope. "Could you let me experience it too, Bryan? Your method, I mean! Even if we can''t implement it broadly, perhaps experiencing it firsthand could give us ideas on how to adapt our own teaching styles."

    Professor McGonagall also nodded in agreement. "If it''s convenient, Bryan," she added with genuine interest, "I''d like to see it for myself as well."

    Like a wave, the other professors followed suit, each expressing their desire to witness Bryan''s innovative teaching method in action. The room buzzed with excitement and anticipation. Even if they couldn''t implement the technique on a wide scale, they reasoned, they could still brainstorm ideas, couldn''t they?

    Amidst the chorus of eager requests, Dumbledore cleared his throat softly. The subtle sound was enough to quiet the room instantly, all eyes turning to him. "Ahem, if you don''t mind, Bryan¡ª" he began, his blue eyes twinkling with what could only be described as mischievous curiosity.

    "Don''t joke, Headmaster Dumbledore¡ª" Bryan said with a dark face. "I don''t have the ability to amodate your Spiritual power!"

    "Perhaps another time, then," Dumbledore said lightly, settling back in his chair.

    With that matter settled, Bryan took a deep breath and began to prepare himself mentally for the task ahead. He closed his eyes for a moment, centering himself, before addressing his colleagues once more.

    "Very well," he said, opening his eyes and surveying the eager faces before him. "I''ll guide you through the experience. Please remember, what you''re about to encounter is a space of my own magical consciousness. It may feel disorienting at first, but I assure you, it''s perfectly safe."

    About Fifteen minutester, the atmosphere in the office suddenly became lively. The staff members, one by one emerging from Bryan''s Spiritual world, wore expressions of wonder and eagerly discussed their experiences.

    Professor Flitwick was particrly energetic.

    "A brilliant method, Bryan, truly brilliant!" he eximed, his eyes shining with unbridled enthusiasm. "The precision of the evaluations, the objectivity of the feedback ¨C it''s remarkable! And the way it provides corrections and guidance to the young wizards... oh, it''s simply extraordinary!"

    Flitwick paused for breath, his mind clearly racing with possibilities. "Oh, if we could bring this method into the ssroom," he continued, wigwagging wildly, "let them use this for training after regr lectures, I bet the teaching quality at Hogwarts would improve tremendously. The Wizarding Examinations Authority would be astounded by Hogwarts'' teaching standards. Just imagine ¨C we could revolutionize magical education! The entire wizarding world would benefit from it!"

    Professor McGonagall nodded thoughtfully. "For Transfiguration, the evaluations provided by this method are not yetprehensive enough."

    She paused, adjusting her square spectacles before continuing.

    "However, as Filius said, if we could implement it widely, refining it for each subject... well, the potential is enormous. We could pass on our experiences more effectively, providing students with insights that typically take weeks to months of practice to develop. Many people would benefit from it ¨C not just our current students, but future generations of witches and wizards!"

    Bryan shrugged, "But that''s where the key problem lies. There are significant challenges we need to consider before we can even think about implementing this on arger scale."

    He stood up, pacing the room as he outlined the issues. "First, these magical constructs are invisible in the real world. They exist only in the Spiritual space I''ve created. We''d need to find a way to manifest them physically, or create a means for students to ess this space easily and safely."

    Bryan paused by the window, gazing out over the Hogwarts grounds as he continued. "Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, those experiences and evaluations alle from me. If I don''t imbue those constructs with my thoughts, my experiences and understanding of magic, they won''t have any effect. They''d be empty shells, devoid of the knowledge and guidance that makes them valuable."

    He turned back to face his colleagues, his expression serious. "The mental energy required to amodate many young wizards simultaneously is enormous. To maintain these constructs, to guide multiple students at once throughplex magical theories and practices... the cost is simply too high for one person to bear indefinitely."

    A somber silence fell over the room as the professors contemted the challenges before them. The excitement of moments ago was tempered by the reality of the obstacles they faced.

    It was Dumbledore who broke the silence. He had remained quiet throughout the demonstrations and subsequent discussions, observing with keen interest. Now, he leaned forward in his chair, his blue eyes twinkling with that familiar mix of wisdom and mischief.

    "That''s not necessarily the case, Bryan," Dumbledore said softly, his voice carrying easily across the quiet room. The teacup in front of him remained full; he hadn''t touched the bitter drink at all. Although he hadn''t experienced the Spiritual world firsthand, he had listened attentively to everyone''s discussions and seemed to have grasped the essence of Bryan''s aplishment.

    "The difficulties you mentioned are not without solutions," Dumbledore continued, his gaze fixed on Bryan, whose eyelids were slightly lowered. His long fingers traced the air, pointing towards the box where Bryan had earlier stored the Surveince mirrors. "In fact, the solution might be closer than you think. We may be able to solve those difficulties through the field of alchemy."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0480 Alchemy

    0480 Alchemy

    It was still a school day, so Professor McGonagall and the others couldn''t devote all their time to promoting the efficient way of learning spells developed by Bryan. In the office, only those with no urgent matters were present. Bryan and Dumbledore sat on the sofa, discussing incessantly over the parchmentid out on the table.

    "The basic idea is that we need to design a brand-new alchemical device with a constant magic that can separate the young wizards'' spirits and project them into a virtual spiritual space. For this, we can partially refer to the working mechanism of the Imperius Curse¡ª" Bryan said, chewing on his quill as he pondered.

    Bryan leaned forward, his finger tracing a series of interconnected runes. "The heart of our creation must be a magical corridor¡ªa conduit, if you will¡ªdesigned to house and channel the memories and thoughts of our professors. This will form the backbone of its instructional capabilities."

    "Fascinating," Dumbledore murmured, stroking his long silver beard. "Perhaps we could incorporate elements of Pensieve magic? The ability to store and rey memories would be helpful in this context."

    "Brilliant suggestion, Headmaster," Bryan agreed enthusiastically. "We could create a hybrid system,bining the immersive nature of Pensieve magic with the instructive elements we''re aiming for."

    Dumbledore''s expression grew serious as he considered the practical implications. "We must not overlook the enormous magical power such a device would require. We''ll need to develop an efficient method of extracting and storing magical energy to fuel this alchemical device."

    Bryan nodded grimly, adding yet more intricate runes to the already densely packed parchment. After several minutes of intense concentration, he sat back with a heavy sigh, rubbing his tired eyes.

    "It''s very challenging. Integrating so many diverse magical elements will result in an incrediblyplex runic structure. Ensuring all theseponents are not only functional but also harmoniously intertwined is no small feat." He shook his head, a wry smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. "This isn''t a task we can hope toplete in a day or two. Nevertheless, I''m convinced it''s achievable. I''ll need to make a visit to the library to dig up some crucial reference materials."

    As if suddenly remembering himself, Bryan nced towards the window. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink. From the grounds below, the joyous sounds of students released from their daily lessons drifted up, a reminder of the world beyond their intense focus.

    "I should head to the library," Bryan pondered, already mentally cataloging the books he''d need to consult. "There are several obscure texts on magical synergy that might prove useful..."

    "I can allocate some of my time to assist in designing portions of the runic patterns," Dumbledore rose, conjuring a steaming cup of honeyced water with a casual flick of his wand. At Bryan''s ce, apart from green tea, he never offered any other beverages to guests.

    "Perhaps you''d care to join me for dinner in the Great Hall first?" Dumbledore invited warmly.

    Bryan, however, was already gathering his notes, his mind racing with new ideas and potential solutions. "Thank you, Headmaster, but I think I''ll head straight to the library. Time is of the essence, and there''s so much ground to cover."

    Dumbledore could only shake his head helplessly. He was about to leave with his cup of honey water when Bryan suddenly called out to him.

    "Wait, Headmaster¡ªthere''s something else I wanted to discuss."

    Curious, Dumbledore settled back onto the plush sofa, cradling his warm drink. "What''s on your mind, Bryan?"

    Bryan suddenly looked up and called out to Dumbledore. Facing Dumbledore''s curious gaze, he pondered for a few seconds before slowly saying,

    "I just remembered something. You should recall our conversation on that evening before the school year started, right?"

    Dumbledore looked a bit surprised, clearly not expecting Bryan to suddenly bring up that conversation. However, his expression quickly returned to normal.

    "If you''re referring to the matter of Hogwarts separating from the Board of Governors, of course I remember. What is it, Bryan? Do you have any new ideas?"

    "That''s precisely it," Bryan confirmed with a nod. Looking at Dumbledore, who had sat back down on the sofa, he said softly, "We had nned to maneuver the Board of Governors into voluntarily withdrawing their financial support from Hogwarts. Simultaneously, through the Ministry of Magic, we would freeze the assets of those families blindly loyal to Voldemort. Through careful political and legal maneuvering, we would then convert those frozen assets into school property. However, such a transition would inevitably take time, and Hogwarts must maintain a reserve of funds to ensure its continued operation."

    The light in Dumbledore''s bright blue eyes flickered. He knew Bryan wouldn''t have suddenly brought up this matter without reason. Leaning forward slightly, Dumbledore asked calmly, "What solution have you nned, Bryan?"

    "Initially, I had considered ''persuading'' the Malfoy family to contribute a substantial portion of their wealth," Bryan exined, a sly smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. "I have too manypromising details and handles on that fellow¡ª enough leverage to ensure his cooperation, albeit reluctantly."

    Looking at Dumbledore''s furrowed brow, Bryan smiled widely, "But now I have a new idea¡ª"

    He tapped his finger meaningfully on the parchment spread across the table between them.

    Dumbledore''s eyes widened as he grasped Bryan''s implication. "You believe this alchemical machine could generate some revenue for the school?"

    "Not just revenue," Bryan said, his voice gaining enthusiasm. "I believe it could revolutionize magical education on a global scale. Think about it¡ªHogwarts already enjoys a sterling reputation as one of the seven finest institutions of magical learning in the world. Moreover, thebined academic achievements of yours, mine, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick gives considerable weight to any endeavor we undertake. With ourbined reputations and a bit of strategic marketing, we could have individuals, families, and organizations moring to acquire this Alchemical learning tool."

    Dumbledore listened intently, his expression thoughtful as he considered the implications of Bryan''s proposal. Encouraged by his attentiveness, Bryan pressed on.

    "This... well, let''s call it a ''learning machine'' for the time being. We don''t need to set an exorbitant price for the device itself. Instead, we could generate a steady stream of ie for Hogwarts through a more nuanced approach."

    Bryan''s eyes gleamed with excitement as he outlined his vision. "Picture this: we input the practical knowledge of all spells from the ''Standard Book of Spells,'' Grade 1 through 4, into the machine. We then establish contracts with the buyers, structuring them so that increased payment corrtes with greater user privileges. The more they invest, the more spells they can ess and study using the learning machine. Naturally, these privileges would have a predetermined time limit. Should they wish to extend their ess, they''d need to make additional payments."

    Ignoring Dumbledore''s slightly mystified expression, Bryan continued enthusiastically, his words flowing faster as his excitement grew. "And why stop at standard charms? The same principle could apply to transfiguration, potions, even specialized magic like the Patronus Charm. We''d embed the experiential knowledge of these spells into the machine''s system. Imagine being able to learn such magic from thefort of one''s own home, guided by the Hogwarts'' finest professors.

    Users seeking to learn these more advanced or specialized magics would pay a premium for ess. A portion of the galleons earned would be allocated to the professors who contributed their expertise, while the remainder... well, we''d have Remus establish a separatepany to handle the finances. All funds would be channeled through thispany''s ounts. Until we''re ready to sever ties with the Board of Governors, there''s no need to expose the rtionship between thispany and Hogwarts itself."

    When Dumbledore left, his face was a bit dark. No matter how progressive his ideas were,pared to Bryan, he always seemed a step behind. This was because Bryan possessed perspectives from both the Muggle and wizarding worlds, and moreover, the Muggle world he belonged to was even more advanced in its working than the Muggle world in current era.

    Before parting, Dumbledore made only one stiption: that Hogwarts students would not be required to pay extra to enjoy the benefits of this new learning tool. Bryan, of course, had never had the notion of profiting from the students under their care.

    The two men parted ways at the corner of the third-floor corridor, the torchlight casting flickering shadows on the ancient stone walls. Dumbledore was heading for the Great Hall, his missed lunch had left him with a hearty appetite. Bryan, meanwhile, set off towards the library, his mind already racing with ideas for the research ahead.

    Just as they were about to go their separate ways, Bryan called out once more, "By the way, Headmaster¡ª"

    Dumbledore paused, turning back to face Bryan with a quizzical expression.

    "Neville Longbottom, Harry''s ssmate ¨C you must be familiar with his situation," Bryan began, his voice taking on a more somber tone. "If I recall correctly, the Longbottom family¡ª"

    Dumbledore''s shoulders sagged almost imperceptibly, his voice heavy with old sorrow. "Ah, yes. Young Mr. Longbottom''s parents... They suffered grievously in the final days of the war. They are still receiving treatment treatment at St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries."

    Bryan''s eyes narrowed in understanding. "The Cruciatus Curse?"

    Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "In their desperation to locate Tom after his disappearance, a group of Death Eaters captured Frank and Alice Longbottom. They were subjected to... unimaginable torment." He sighed deeply, the twinkle in his bright blue eyes dimming. "As you so eloquently exined to our students in stor''s ss, the severity of the Cruciatus Curse they endured... Well, to use your terminology, their mental worlds were shattered beyond recognition. They exist now in a state ofplete confusion, requiring constant care for even the most basic functions of life."

    Bryan absorbed this information in silence, his mind clearly racing with possibilities.

    Noticing this, Dumbledore stared at Bryan and said gravely, "Bryan, I''ve also tried to heal Frank and Alice before, but I must admit, I was powerless against the damage caused by that magic. You can imagine the impact this has had on young Mr. Longbottom. So please, unless you are absolutely certain you can help, I implore you not to raise false hopes in that child''s heart.He has borne enough sorrow for one lifetime."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0481 Personal Affairs (Large Chapter)

    0481 Personal Affairs (Large Chapter)

    Thete afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as Hermione, her bushy brown hair even more disheveled than usual, rushed from her elective ss towards the sprawling yground as she waste for her daily physical education training.

    As she approached the training area, she caught sight of Harry and Neville heading in the opposite direction, their robes clinging to their sweat-drenched bodies. Harry''s untidy ck hair was stered to his forehead, nearly obscuring his lightning bolt scar, while Neville''s round face was flushed a deep crimson from exertion. They exchanged quick nods with Hermione as they passed, their footsteps echoing on the stone path as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

    "We''ll see you in themon roomter, Hermione!" Harry called over his shoulder, his voice slightly hoarse from the workout. "We''re going to tackle Professor Watson''s Wednesday assignment after we clean up."

    Hermione waved in acknowledgment, a twinge of regret shing across her face as she realized she''d have to miss out on their study session. She quickened her pace, determined toplete her training as efficiently as possible.

    An hourter, muscles aching and lungs burning, Hermione stumbled into the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling above reflected the darkening sky outside, streaked with brilliant oranges and purples as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was thick with the aroma of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and sweet desserts, making Hermione''s stomach growl loudly.

    Settling onto the bench, Hermione piled her te high with roast chicken, steamed vegetables, and a generous helping of mashed potatoes. She ate with uncharacteristic speed, barely tasting the delicious food as she shoveled it into her mouth. Her mind was already racing ahead to the library, where she nned to delve into the topic Professor Watson had mentioned in today''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss ¨C the ancient art of resisting mental magic.

    As she ate, Hermione couldn''t help but notice the cheerful chatter andughter filling the Great Hall. Small groups of students huddled together at their house tables, sharing jokes and stories from their day. The staircases visible through the open doors were alive with movement, young wizards and witches darting up and down, their faces alight with smiles and jollity.

    The sight, which would normally have filled Hermione with warmth, instead stirred a mncholy feeling in her chest. She found herself remembering their first year at Hogwarts, when she, Harry, and Ron had been inseparable. They had the same sses, so they could go to lessons together, eat together, and return to themon room toplete their homework together.

    Now, in their third year, things had changed dramatically.

    Their schedules had diverged, with Hermione taking on additional electives that neither Harry nor Ron had chosen. The coursework had be more demanding, requiring Hermione to spend increasing amounts of time in the library, poring over ancient tomes andplicated magical theories. Even during their shared sses, there was little opportunity for casual conversation or sharedughter. Only during lunch, dinner, and before lights out did they have some time to discuss the day''s events in the Great Hall and themon room.

    Harry and Ron didn''t feel this change too deeply, which wasn''t surprising given their typically oblivious nature. But for Hermione, each day brought a growing awareness of the distance between them. She had even started to contemte the poignant scenario of them going their separate ways after graduating from Hogwarts.

    Pushing these gloomy thoughts aside, Hermione finished her meal and gathered her belongings. She made her way out of the Great Hall, her footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. The corridors were quieter now, most students having gone to theirmon rooms or the library to work on assignments.

    As she approached the library, Hermione''s pace quickened with anticipation.

    In the first week of school, the coursework wasn''t too heavy, so there weren''t many students in the library. Most of those present were upper-year Ravenws, which wasn''t surprising as their house consistently maintained the highest average grades at Hogwarts.

    The familiar scent of old parchment and leather-bound books wafted through the air, aforting aroma that never failed to lift her spirits. She pushed open the heavy wooden doors, expecting to find the usual scene of studious silence.

    Instead, she was greeted by an unusualmotion. To her great surprise, Professor Watson was standing near the entrance, looking mortified. Looming over him was Madam Pince, the stern librarian, her face contorted with barely contained fury.

    Hogwarts'' librarian, Madam Pince, was a witch who resembled a gaunt vulture and was extremely strict. If you made noise in the library or damaged her beloved books, regardless of who you were, you were sure to receive a scolding.

    "This is a library, Bryan!" Madam Pince hissed, her yellowish eyes narrowed to slits as she red at the professor. She didn''t seem to care if Bryan Watson was the most powerful wizard of the age; she berated him without mercy, "Not Madam Puddifoot''s Tea Shop! If you wish to engage in romantic pursuits, I must insist you do so elsewhere!"

    Professor Watson looked uncharacteristically flustered. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and he seemed to be struggling to find the right words to cate the enraged librarian.

    "I''m very sorry, Madam Pince," he managed to stammer out with an awkward smile. "It won''t happen again, I assure you."

    Hermione froze in her tracks, her eyes widening in disbelief. She hade to the library with the intention of asking Professor Watson about the mental magic he had mentioned in ss, but now she found herself rooted to the spot, unable to process the scene before her.

    "What''s going on?!" she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible. In the next instant, her feet seemed to move of their own ord, carrying her swiftly to a nearby table where a familiar face was watching the spectacle unfold.

    "Professor Watson was engaging in romantic pursuits! With whom, in the library!" Hermione was so surprised she could barely catch her breath, even wondering if she had misheard.

    Angelina Johnson, a striking dark-skinned girl from Gryffindor and one of the team''s star Chasers, was leaning back in her chair, a look of amused fascination on her face. With the cancetion of this year''s Quidditch matches due to the Triwizard Tournament, Angelina had been spending more time in the library, catching up on the lessons she had missed due to training.

    "Oh, it''s you, Hermione," Angelina said, noticing Hermione approaching her. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she leaned in conspiratorially. "You''ve missed quite a show!"

    Hermione''s curiosity got the better of her propriety. She pushed her unruly hair out of her eyes and leaned closer to Angelina, her voice eager despite her efforts to remainposed. "Oh, don''t keep me in suspense, Angelina. What happened?"

    Angelina''s eyes danced with hrity as she recounted the events. "Well, Professor Watson came in to borrow some books, minding his own business, you know?" She paused for dramatic effect, barely containing herughter. "Then, out of nowhere, these two seventh-year Ravenw witches ambushed him!"

    "Ambushed him?" Hermione echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion.

    Angelina nodded vigorously. "They ran up to him, giggling like first-years, and tried to give him love letters!" She covered her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressedughter. "But that''s not even the best part. They wanted his autograph too!"

    Hermione felt a mix of emotions ¨C disbelief, secondhand embarrassment, and a touch of indignation. "Surely Professor Watson wouldn''t encourage such behavior," she said, her tone disapproving. "And in the library of all ces!"

    "Oh, it gets better," Angelina continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. She leaned in even closer, her eyes darting around to ensure no one else was listening. "Those Ravenw girls, they pulled out lipstick from their bags and asked him to sign their shirts with it!"

    Angelina pointed to a spot on her own shirt that made Hermione''s cheeks flush scarlet. The older girl dissolved into another fit of giggles. "You should have seen Professor Watson''s face! I swear, I''ll remember that look till the day I die!"

    Hermione didn''t share Angelina''s amusement. She felt a surge of righteous anger on Professor Watson''s behalf. "That''spletely inappropriate!" she hissed, her eyes shing. "How could they be so... so shameless? And they''re supposed to be Ravenws! Utterly brainless behavior, if you ask me."

    As they spoke, Professor Watson seemed to have finally cated Madam Pince. The librarian retreated to her desk, still muttering under her breath, while Bryan gathered a stack of ancient-looking books. He tucked them under his arm, his face a mixture of relief and lingering embarrassment as he wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

    Having been through his own youthful days, he knew very well that the two young Ravenw witches were just stirring up trouble, but he truly hadn''t expected them to be so bold, which left him quite embarrassed. After spending too much time in his office, he had initially nned to while away the time before bed in the library, but looking at the teasing nces around him, he no longer had the face to stay.

    Hermione watched as the professor cast a longing nce at the quiet corners of the library, clearly weighing whether to stay and work or make a hasty retreat. The decision was made for him as he seemed to have caught sight of the teasing nces being thrown his way by the handful of students present. With a resigned sigh, he turned on his heel and strode towards the exit.

    Just as he was about to step through the library doors, Angelina suddenly sprang to her feet. "Wait, Professor Watson!" she called out, her voice carrying easily in the hushed atmosphere of the library.

    Hermione stared at her in shock, momentarily wondering if Angelina had lost her mind. Was she nning to tease the professor further? Or worse, was she about to confess her own feelings?

    Noticing Hermione''s rmed expression, Angelina quickly exined in a low voice, "How often do you get to see something this amusing, Hermione? Let''s go tease him a bit ¨C all in good fun, of course!"

    Before Hermione could protest, Angelina grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the library exit. They intercepted Professor Watson just outside the doors, narrowly avoiding Madam Pince''s wrath for themotion.

    Hermione felt her face burning with embarrassment as Professor Watson turned to face them. His expression was a mixture of wariness and resignation, as if he were bracing himself for another awkward encounter.

    "Is there something you need?" Bryan asked, his eyebrows raised questioningly. His gaze flickered between Hermione, who looked as if she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole, and Angelina, who was struggling to maintain a straight face.

    Bryan had been teaching at Hogwarts for nearly two years now, and in that time, the students hade to understand his nature quite well. Outside of formal ss time, when he wasn''t focused on serious instruction, he was generally affable and willing to engage in light-hearted banter with his students. He rarely lost his temper, a quality that made him appealing to many of the young wizards and witches.

    Emboldened by this knowledge, Angelina pressed forward with her teasing. "Why did you refuse those girls just now, Professor Watson?" she asked, her tone deliberately casual. "As far as I know, you don''t have a girlfriend, do you?"

    Hermione felt her stomach drop at Angelina''s boldness. Even though Professor Watson was known for his approachability, this line of questioning seemed to be pushing the boundaries of propriety. She nervously bit her lip, half-expecting Professor Watson to reprimand them. But Angelina, undeterred, continued her yful interrogation.

    "Those two Ravenw girls we just saw were quite pretty, weren''t they? They''re quite popr in their house, you know. Since you don''t have a girlfriend, why don''t you give it a try?"

    Bryan''s expression darkened slightly, though there was still a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I am a professor, Miss Johnson," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Are you trying to ruin my reputation?"

    "Oh, I don''t think it''s such a big deal," Angelina replied, her words as bold and direct as her ying style on the Quidditch pitch. Since Professor Watson hadn''t immediately flown into a rage or scolded them harshly, it seemed he wasn''t particrly opposed to discussing this topic with them. Reassured, Angelina tilted her head back and asked with a grin,

    "Shouldn''t love disregard status and position? Besides, they''re of age. They know what they''re doing and can take responsibility for their actions."

    The word ''love'' seemed to hang in the air between them. Bryan''s mouth twitched slightly; this was probably the first time he had ever discussed such a personal topic with his students.

    "You''re not wrong, Miss Johnson," Bryan looking helpless said after a moment, his tone a mixture of resignation and amusement. "Status and position shouldn''t be obstacles to love, but..." He paused, seeming to choose his words carefully. "Don''t I have the right to choose as well? To put it bluntly, if I had to ept every girl who spent a few minutes writing me a love letter as my girlfriend, I''m afraid I wouldn''t be able to aplish anything else for the rest of my life."

    It was an obvious point, and anyone would know that Angelina was just asking for fun, but she persisted, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Then what kind of girl would you choose as a girlfriend?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with interest.

    Angelina leaned in, as if she were about to share a secret. "You''re the most excellent wizard I''ve ever met, Professor. Perhaps you don''t know, but many of the senior-year witches are specting about what kind of girl you like!"

    Throughout this exchange, Hermione had kept her head down, not daring to meet Professor Watson''s eyes. The topic of conversation felt incredibly awkward and inappropriate to her. But at Angelina''sst question, she couldn''t help but prick up her ears. Despite her embarrassment, she had to admit it was an intriguing question.

    "What kind of girl I like--"

    Bryan seemed to have loosened up a bit. He gazed at the flickering mes of the torch hanging on the wall, momentarily lost in thought.

    What kind of girl did he like?

    To be honest, it had been quite some time since he had considered such a question. Since leaving Grandma Ferrena and his Muggle orphanage to enter the Wizarding world, during his years at Hogwarts, he had always been cautious, devoting all his energy to improving his magical skills.

    In the two years after graduation, he was eager to see the wider Wizarding world and improve the living condition for those children in the orphanage. And by the time his abilities had reached a certain level, he was maneuvered back to Hogwarts by Dumbledore. After that, one thing after another had kept him busy, and he still had to think about some changes for the future.

    Come to think of it, he had hardly ever considered this question.

    Bryan, inadvertently touched by these thoughts, was lost in reverie for a moment. He wasn''t sure how long he had been dazed, but when he came to his senses, even Hermione, who had been shy about discussing this topic, had raised her head and was looking at him in surprise.

    Looking at the two young witches who were still a head shorter than him, Bryan chuckled,

    "I''m afraid there isn''t a clear standard, At least, not one I''ve given much thought to."

    "No standard?" Angelina pressed, sounding puzzled. "But there must be something, right? I mean, most boys in school like pretty, cute girls--"

    Pretty, cute¡ª

    At these words, Hermione felt a small twinge in her chest. She pursed her lips, trying to hide the hint of hurt that shed across her face. Pretty and cute were not words often used to describe her, with her bushy hair and prominent front teeth.

    "Ah, of course, nobody dislikes pretty and cute girls," Bryan said candidly, "But that''s just the nature of males, probably unrted to love. If it were me, I might ce more importance on ady who could resonate with my soul."

    "Resonate with your soul?" Angelina echoed, her brow furrowed in confusion.

    "Well... havingmon topics,mon pursuits, that''s the most basic thing, Miss Johnson," Bryan exined, his tone bing more animated as he warmed to the subject. "You know, love itself is a very wonderful thing, quite irrational. Nonguage can describe it urately, there''s no standard to measure it¡ª "

    Bryan smiled, "In short, my idea is quality over quantity. Finding ady who can resonate with your soul requires luck, and before that, I''d rather devote all my energy to improving my magical abilities. I won''t look for a partner with the idea that a person must have apanion... that''s just a waste of time and energy. Life is too short, and magic too vast, to spend it chasing after a rtionship for the sake of having one."

    As he spoke, it was as if an invisible bolt of lightning had struck Hermione. She stood motionless, her eyes wide, staring at Professor Watson with an expression of dawning understanding. In an instant, countless thoughts surged through her mind, filling her heart with a whirlwind of emotions.

    Professor Watson''s view was indeed very reasonable, wasn''t it?

    The idea of seeking a partner who could truly understand and share in one''s passions, rather than settling for superficial attraction, resonated deeply with her. She found herself nodding along with Angelina, both girls momentarily lost in thought.

    Bryan, noticing the contemtive silence that had fallen over the corridor, brushed off some dust that had settled on his robe from his earlier visit into the Restricted Section. "Alright," he said, his tone lightening, "I think this topic has run its course. Ladies, I haven''t had dinner yet, so I need to go get myself something to eat. You can go about your own business--"

    With a polite nod, he turned to leave. Angelina, seemingly satisfied with the unexpected insights she had gained, turned back towards the library. She, too, was a student in Professor Watson''s Physical Education ss and needed to find some materials to improve on the coursework left fromst night''s PE session.

    But Hermione remained rooted to the spot, her mind still racing with the implications of Professor Watson''s words. She had taken barely two steps even after Angelina had disappeared into the library, her inner turmoil evident in her furrowed brow and nervous fidgeting.

    Hermione was still hesitating about whether to voice her question, but Bryan had already noticed that she probably had something she wanted to discuss with him privately, so he simply stopped her.

    "Is there something else you want to discuss?"

    Caught off guard, Hermione hesitated, her inner debate intensifying. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, uncertainty written across her face. However, Professor Watson''s calm, patient gaze gave her courage. She took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and nodded.

    "Hmm¡ª" Bryan grunted nomittally, his eyes scrutinizing Hermione''s face. He knew the young witch well enough to recognize that whatever was on her mind, it wasn''t a continuation of their previous conversation about ''love''. This was something important, something that probably required privacy.

    He nced around the corridor, noting the portraits that were pretending not to eavesdrop and the suits of armor that seemed to be leaning just a bit too far forward. With a slight gesture of his hand, he beckoned Hermione to follow him.

    They walked in silence, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. Bryan led them down a less-traveled path, away from the main thoroughfares of the castle. The air grew cooler, carrying the musty scent of disuse and age. Hermione shivered slightly, whether from the chill or from nerves, she couldn''t quite tell.

    The corridor they entered was dimly lit, with only a few sputtering torches casting flickering shadows on the walls. Ancient tapestries, their colors faded with time, hung between stern-faced statues of long-forgotten wizards. In the gloom, these stone figures seemed to watch their passage with hollow, judging eyes.

    Hermione found herself drawing closer to Professor Watson, her eyes darting nervously from statue to statue. She had explored much of the castle in her three years at Hogwarts, often in thepany of Harry and Ron, but this particr corridor was unfamiliar to her.

    Finally, Bryan came to a halt in a patch of moonlight streaming through a high, narrow window. The silvery glow softened the harsh shadows, creating a small ind of visibility in the murky corridor. He turned to face Hermione, his expression open and encouraging.

    "What is it, Hermione?" Bryan asked gently, trying to put her at ease.

    Hermione swallowed hard, her hands fidgeting with the strap of her book bag. "Um, there''s something¡ª" she began, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat and tried again. "You mentioned in Professor Moody''s ss today that there''s a kind of magic that can resist mental spell attacks and has a defensive effect against Unforgivable Curses, but you forgot to say¡ª"

    "Oh!" Bryan interrupted, pping his forehead in a gesture of self-reproach. His tone was apologetic as he continued, "I''m sorry, I did forget about that, but¡ª" He paused mid-sentence, his gaze sharpening as he studied Hermione''s face. A knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "But I think you didn''t seek me out just for this, did you? It''s alright, Hermione. Tell me the truth, what do you really want to ask?"

    Hermione''s eyes widened in surprise. She didn''t think her poor excuse could fool Professor Watson, but she hadn''t expected him to see through it so directly. For a moment, she didn''t know how to begin. Fortunately, Professor Watson was very patient. He didn''t rush her, just waited patiently.

    "I''m sorry, Professor, I actually¡ª" Hermione began, her voice trembling slightly. She clutched her bag tightly, as if it could anchor her in this moment of vulnerability. Her gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet Professor Watson''s eyes as she continued in an almost inaudible whisper, "Actually, I wanted to ask if there''s any way... if you would be willing to ept those young witches and wizards who had previously given up on Physical Education ss... I mean, to give them another chance."

    The words hung in the air between them, seeming to echo in the stillness of the corridor. Hermione''s face burned with embarrassment, and she found herself wishing she could disappear into the shadows that surrounded them. She lowered her head further, her chin nearly touching her chest as she awaited Professor Watson''s response.

    The silence stretched on, broken only by the distant hooting of an owl and the soft crackle of the torches. Hermione''s heart pounded in her ears, each second feeling like an eternity. Just as she was about to look up, to gauge Professor Watson''s reaction, his voice cut through the tension.

    "For Mr. Weasley?" Bryan asked, his tone calm and devoid of any judgment.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0482 Unexpected

    0482 Unexpected

    <strong>A Tribute to Maggie Smith (1934 - 2024)</strong>

    Before diving into this chapter, I just wanted to take a moment to honor Dame Maggie Smith, who brought Professor Minerva McGonagall to life in a way that touched us all. Her portrayal was a perfect¡ªeverything we imagined Professor McGonagall to be. The magic she brought to the Harry Potter world will always stay with us. Rest in peace, Professor, and thank you for all the memories.

    <strong>*********************************************************</strong>

    <strong>....</strong>

    "Oh, no!" Hermione blurted out nervously. Her anxiety made her unaware of what she was saying, but Professor Watson''s calm purple eyes seemed to see through all lies. Hermione lowered her head, her face turning crimson. She stammered,

    "Seamus, Dean, and Lavender too... So many people regret giving up the physical education ss." Her voice wavered, thick with emotion. "Professor Watson, if you''d be willing to give them another chance¡ª" She paused, struggling to find the right words, her fingers nervously intertwining as she spoke.

    Hermione couldn''t continue. Professor Watson''s calm, steady gaze felt like an immense mountain pressing down on her head, making it impossible for her to look up.

    In the suffocating silence, a faint wailing sound could be heard. The sound was as weak as a gentle breeze brushing against one''s cheek. Hermione didn''t hear it, but Bryan nced towards a dpidated ssroom with a rusty door hinge, his expression slightly moved.

    In the suffocating silence that followed, a faint wailing sound could be heard, barely audible above the ambient noises of the ancient castle. The sound was as weak and ethereal as a gentle breeze brushing against one''s cheek, easily mistaken for the wind whistling through the drafty corridors.

    Hermione, lost in her own thoughts and anxiety, didn''t register the sound. However, Bryan''s keen senses picked it up immediately. He nced towards a dpidated ssroom with a rusty door hinge, his expression shifting slightly.

    Gathering her courage once more, Hermione pressed on, her voice gaining a hint of desperation. "Of course, Ron regrets it too. They didn''t expect¡ª" She trailed off, realizing how weak her argument sounded even to her own ears.

    "Didn''t expect my ss to be interesting?" Bryan interjected, his tone level andposed as he redirected his piercing gaze to Hermione. There was no anger in his voice, just a calm curiosity that somehow made Hermione feel even more ufortable.

    Hermione''s anxious heart sank, already anticipating Professor Watson''s response. Sure enough, Bryan sighed softly and said slowly,

    "Your noble qualities are touching, Hermione, but I think you must have known what my answer would be before you approached me, didn''t you?"

    Hermione''s cheeks were flushed red, her slightly protruding front teeth biting her lower lip until it bled a little. This was indeed a very difficult situation for her. First, she knew clearly that she couldn''t help Ron get another chance from Professor Watson. Second, she, who had always followed the rules, was now actively seeking Professor Watson to overturn them.

    "Everyone wants to be better," Bryan said earnestly, his voice taking on a gentler tone, as if sensing Hermione''s inner turmoil. "But often, effort alone isn''t enough to solve problems." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "It also requires vision, wisdom, luck... that is, a series of opportune factors to help us get a chance to change our fate. Do you understand what I mean?"

    Hermione nodded with difficulty.

    Professor Watson meant that the students who gave up this sscked these qualities he mentioned.

    Seeing Hermione''s crestfallen look and reddening eyes, Bryan pursed his lips and continued,

    "Life is a very wonderful journey, Hermione. No one can determine exactly how to live it happily or meaningfully. Perhaps now you think your friends who gave up my ss have lost a precious opportunity, and it''s a terrible loss. But if you could look at the problem from a higher perspective, it might actually be a good thing for them. So, I don''t think you need to worry too much about this matter. Everyone''s life can only be controlled by themselves; you can''t intervene¡ª"

    Hermione listened to Professor Watson''s words in a daze. For her, only bing more excellent could reflect her own value and bring happiness. For young wizards of this age, mediocrity was also very frightening. She couldn''t understand how losing such a precious opportunity could possibly be a good thing for Ron or any of the others.

    "Mmph!"

    Hermione was lost in thought, still trying to understand Professor Watson''s words when suddenly, the intermittent groaning she had mistaken for wind whistling through the corridor windows became clear. She realized it wasn''t the wind at all, but painful wailing.

    Hermione''s face showed a hint of panic. She quickly turned to look at the ssroom behind her, its door covered in cobwebs, her mouth slightly open.

    "Who''s in the room?"

    No answer came, but the pained noises continued, growing more intense with each passing moment. Hermione could hear the person in the ssroom trying desperately to suppress their cries, but the pain had clearly exceeded the limits of endurance and couldn''t be suppressed by willpower alone.

    "Is someone hurt?" Hermione''s voice rose an octave, panic seeping into her tone. She stepped back involuntarily, the color draining from her face until she was as pale as the Hogwarts ghosts. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Professor Watson''s sleeve, her fingers clutching the fabric tightly as if it were a lifeline. "Professor, what''s going on?" she asked tremblingly, her eyes wide with fear and concern.

    "Oh¡ª" Bryan''s mouth twitched a few times, his face full ofplex emotions. The usual calm andposed demeanor he wore like a cloak seemed to slip for a moment, revealing a hint of uncertainty beneath. "It''s not someone being hurt. How should I put this... This situation is indeed quite rare. It''s my first time encountering it, but since we have¡ª" Bryan frowned, "We can''t ignore it¡ª"

    What exactly was going on?

    Hermione tilted her little head up, staring at Professor Watson''s face. She had never seen the confident,posed Professor Watson speak with such a difficult tone. What situation in this ssroom could make even Professor Watson look so troubled?

    "There''s a situation in there, Hermione. I need to go in and deal with it. You see¡ª" Bryan began, his tone suggesting he was about to dismiss her.

    Hermione was stunned. She hadn''t expected Professor Watson to suddenly send her away. Her eyes couldn''t hide her disappointment.Hermione nodded slightly, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Her footsteps were slow and reluctant as she began to walk back the way she came.

    In any case, she tried to reassure herself, she didn''t need to worry about Professor Watson. Whether in Hogwarts or in the wizarding world outside, there probably wasn''t anything that could truly harm him.

    The words burst from Hermione''s lips before she could stop them. She had only taken a few steps, her feet moving of their own ord as her mind raced. Suddenly, as if possessed by a force beyond her control, she stopped and turned to look at Professor Watson, who was rolling up his sleeves, and abruptly asked.

    "May I ask what''s happening inside, Professor Watson?"

    The words burst from Hermione''s lips before she could stop them. She had only taken a few steps, her feet moving of their own ord as her mind raced. Suddenly, as if possessed by a force beyond her control, she stopped and turned to look at Professor Watson, who was rolling up his sleeves, and abruptly asked.

    <strong>Click¡ª</strong>

    As if in response to Hermione''s inquiry, a loud click echoed through the corridor.The rusty doorknob, weakened by years of neglect, broke offpletely, ttering to the floor with a metallic ring. From the pitch-dark ssroom came a flurry of panicked, rustling sounds, like a creature desperately trying to hide or escape.

    Bryan was about to push the door open when he didn''t expect Hermione to suddenly stop and probe further.

    "Oh¡ª" ncing at the little witch who was looking at him with concern, Bryan pondered for a few seconds before saying in aplicated tone,

    "There''s a house-elf hiding in the ssroom¡ª"

    "A house-elf!" The young witch''s delicate features suddenly lit up. Hermione repeated in surprise, gasping for air.

    "Yes¡ª" Bryan nodded slightly. "This house-elf, um, seems to be giving birth and, well, it appears to be a difficult delivery. I''m afraid without help, she probably won''t survive this ordeal."

    A house-elf... in difficult delivery.

    In the darkness, Hermione''s mouth fell open in shock.

    "But how did it end up here?!"

    Hermionepletely forgot Professor Watson''s request for her to leave. Any thought of obedience or following rules vanished in the face of this new, urgent situation. She ran back towards the door, her movements much more nimble and purposeful than when she had been leaving. In a few quick steps, she was once again in front of Professor Watson, staring up at him with her bright orange-yellow eyes wide open, silently demanding answers.

    "Why isn''t anyone helping it? Madam Pomfrey is... Shouldn''t it go to the hospital wing?!" Hermione''s words tumbled out in a rush.

    "The hospital wing is for serving faculty and you young wizards, Miss Granger¡ª" Bryan was visibly amused by Hermione''s reaction. He chuckled, "House-elves aren''t part of the hospital''s service recipients¡ª"

    "Oh, so no one takes care of them?!" Hermione''s voice rose, indignation coloring her words.

    Hermione suddenly remembered Kreacher, the house-elf at Sirius''s home, who preparedvish meals for them despite his decrepit body. And Winky, the house-elf who, on the night of the Quidditch final, had done nothing wrong but was severely burned by Professor Watson''s magic while following orders, only to be ruthlessly abandoned by Barty Crouch Sr., the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

    Hermione cried out angrily, "Oh, even if Hogwarts is like the outside world and doesn''t give house-elves holidays or wages, surely someone should have considered this situation?"

    Her mind raced, searching for a solution. Suddenly, an idea struck her. "Hagrid... it should go to Hagrid! Hagrid has a soft spot for magical creatures; he always helps them. I... I''ll go find him right now!"

    Hermione was already turning, ready to sprint down the corridor in search of Hagrid when Professor Watson''s calm voice stopped her in her tracks.

    "Objectively speaking, Hagrid''s passion is for those magical creatures that appear dangerous. House-elves are probably not of much interest to him¡ª" Bryan said calmly and rationally, his words acting like a bucket of cold water on Hermione''s fiery determination. "Don''t bother, Hermione. By the time you bring Hagrid here, this poor house-elf inside will probably be done for. Let me see if I can provide some help for this little elf first¡ª"

    "But--"

    Hermione looked flustered, as if she hadpletely lost herposure. It wasn''t her fault; after all, no ss at Hogwarts, no book in the library had ever taught her how to handle such a situation.

    Bryan had regained his calm. With a harsh screech, he pushed open the door.

    They were immediately hit by an overpowering stench of rotting wood, so strong it was almost suffocating. Hermione quickly covered her mouth, coughing repeatedly, while Bryan had already stepped into the ssroom. Seeing this, Hermione swallowed her unease and hurried after him.

    There wasn''t a single light in the room, only a thin stream of moonlight filtered through the curtains. It took Hermione a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Squinting, she carefully examined her surroundings and realized it was a semicircr room, unlike the ssrooms they usually used.

    In the center of the ssroomy a pile of rotten wood, presumably the remains of decayed desks and chairs.

    Over the past thousand years, Hogwarts had many such ssrooms. They had once been in use but were abandoned for unknown reasons, sometimes lying dormant for centuries. The ssroom they were in now had likely been forsaken for quite some time. Even with poor visibility, Hermione could tell from the soft feel of dust umtion beneath her feet.

    The unfamiliar environment made her uneasy. Hermione instinctively reached out to grab Professor Watson''s sleeve for reassurance, but she pulled her hand back defiantly mid-air. The thought that the school could be so indifferent to house-elves'' rights, to the point where a pregnant elf had to hide in such a ce to give birth, made Hermione grit her teeth in anger.

    Bryan pulled out his wand, letting a soft white light emanate from its tip. He directed it towards a bulging curtain, which was also the source of the intermittent wailing and crying.

    "Come out, little one--"

    In the wandlight, Hermione noticed a distinct dark stain on the floor leading from the pile of rotten wood to the curtain. She narrowed her eyes to look closer, and when she realized what it was, her expression suddenly became distressed.

    It was blood!

    The trail was made by the house-elf''s blood mixing with the umted dust on the floor. The house-elf had crawled out of its nest of wood chips and tattered cloth before they entered, hiding behind the curtain.

    House-elves couldn''t disobey their masters'' orders. At Hogwarts, the students and staff were the house-elves'' masters.

    The decaying curtain rustled, and a weak little creature crawled out on all fours from behind it.

    The moment Hermione saw the little thing clearly, she immediately covered her mouth to stifle a cry, but her eyes still instantly welled up with tears.

    The house-elf wore only a single garment that looked like an apron, its sole piece of clothing. Now, even this was soaked and stained with blood. Something was protruding from the lower half of the elf''s body, and after a moment''s thought, Hermione understood what it was.

    "Most honored Professor Watson... Esteemed young witch--"

    Even in this condition, driven by some deep-seated instinct or training, the house-elf trembled as it tried to pull itself up against the wall to bow to them. The effort was clearly excruciating, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to rush forward and stop it.

    "How... how may Reega serve you?" the house-elf asked, its voice barely a whisper, pale from blood loss.

    "Lie down!" Hermione''s tears flew as she shouted, her voice almost breaking, She turned to Professor Watson, her eyes pleading. "Is there any way, Professor Watson? We have to help it!"

    "Calm down, Miss Granger--" Bryan nced at Hermione, adopting the serious tone he usually used in ss. He looked at the house-elf, his brow furrowing involuntarily. "Your name is Reega, is that right?"

    Reega nodded timidly, but when she saw Bryan approaching, she suddenly panicked.

    "Oh, Reega is dirty, Sir--" Reega cried, "Reega is not a good house-elf, Reega has caused trouble for the Most honored Professor Watson and Esteemed witch."

    "What are you saying?!" Hermione was almost driven to despair by Reega''s words. She wanted to ask this little elf if it truly understood what it was going through, yet it was still apologizing to them!

    "Lie down, move slowly. This is my order, Reega--" Bryan looked at the emotionally charged Hermione, his voice steady. He knew that using thenguage of orders was the surest way to get the house-elf toply, even if it sat ufortably with him. "And you, Miss Granger, if you can''t control your emotions, I''m afraid I''ll have to ask you to leave."

    Hermione''s sobbing was cut short. She turned to re at Professor Watson, her eyes full of disbelief and anger. Was it possible that seeing this scene didn''t affect Professor Watson at all? Was he like those other wizards who believed it was perfectly reasonable to order house-elves around?

    Reega continued to whimper softly that she had caused trouble for the great Professor Watson, that she was an unqualified, shameful house-elf. But at the same time, she had to obey Professor Watson''s order, slowly lying down on a clean, soft cushion that suddenly appeared behind her.

    "Close your mouth, don''t waste your energy--" Bryan gave Reega a second order. He crouched beside the little elf, examining her for a few moments, his expression growing serious.

    Hermione took a few deep breaths to suppress her emotions. She knew clearly that right now, in this ce, only Professor Watson could be of help.

    "Wh-what''s happening, Professor--" Hermione asked, her voice trembling. She didn''t dare look at the bloody scene, only focusing on Professor Watson''s serious profile and Reega''s pained face.

    "Hmm-- based on my assessment," Bryan hesitated before saying, "Simply put, its baby is too big and, well, it''s stuck."

    "What should we do now?"

    As it turned out, no one is an expert at everything. There will always be things you''re not good at.

    Bryan scratched his head, looking quite troubled. Which serious wizard had ever done this sort of thing?

    The feet of the house-elf''s baby wasing out first. He wanted to simply pull Reega''s child out, but feared such a rough method might cost both elves their lives.

    The soft cushion Bryan had conjured was already stained red with blood. By the looks of it, this house-elf wouldn''tst much longer, so there wasn''t much time to hesitate.

    "Miss Granger--" Professor Watson''s voice remained steady, which calmed the anxious Hermione somewhat. She took a deep breath and said, "What can I do, Professor?"

    "This--" Bryan rummaged in his space bag for a moment. He pulled out a vial of potion glowing with a blue aura and handed it to Hermione. "Feed this potion to the house-elf. It should help restore some of its energy--"

    Hermione took the potion and hurriedly pulled out the cork. She carefully slid one hand under Reega''s head, gently lifting it, while bringing the vial to Reega''s mouth with her other hand. The little elf clearly understood what Professor Watson and the young witch were trying to do, and looked terrified, as if she believed it was shameful waste for a house-elf to drink a wizard''s potion.

    However, Hermione didn''t give her a chance to refuse. She poured the potion into the house-elf''s mouth without hesitation.

    Meanwhile, Bryan stood up. He took out his wand and tracedplex, mysterious patterns in the air. Dreamlike, brilliant starlight burst from the wand tip, drifting down like snow towards Reega and quickly absorbing into her overtaxed body.

    Hermione didn''t know what spell Professor Watson was casting, but it was clearly rted to healing. She noticed Reega''s pale, furry body regaining color at a visible rate. The dullness in hermp-like eyes began to fade, reced by a spark of life.

    "Oh, it seems to be working, Professor!" Hermione eximed joyfully. Her palm was pressed against the back of Reega''s head, and she could feel the little elf''s body, which had grown cold from blood loss, gradually warming up. She could even sense the rapidly returning vitality in that frail body.

    "You have to do this yourself, little one--" Bryan said without interrupting his spellcasting, looking into Reega''s eyes.

    Finally, after five minutes--

    Apanied by a high-pitched, sharp, and painful wail, a tiny creature slid from the cushion onto the floor.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0483 Their Fate

    0483 Their Fate

    The newborn creature was astonishingly small, barelyrger than a pair of goblin''s hands ced side by side. Its body was covered in a downy coat of fur so fine and pale it seemed to shimmer in the dim light. Where the fur thinned, one could glimpse delicate pink skin beneath, as fragile-looking as tissue paper.

    The little elf, having just endured the tumultuous journey into the world,y motionless on the cushion that had served as its birthing bed. With a soft, almost inaudible sound, it rolled off the cushion onto the cold stone floor, its eyes tightly shut as if in the throes of a deep, peaceful slumber.

    "Oh¡ª" The sound escaped Hermione''s lips unknowingly.

    As she gazed upon the tiny creature, a dam within her broke. Tears, hot and plentiful, sprang to her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. She raised a trembling hand to cover her mouth, barely stifling the sobs that tried to overtake her.

    "It''s incredible¡ª" she choked out; her voice thick with emotion.

    Beside her, Bryan stood calm in stark contrast to Hermione''s emotional disy. His face was a mask of concentration, brow furrowed deeply as he scrutinized the newborn elf.

    Hermione, her heart overflowing with tenderness for the tiny creature, couldn''t contain her excitement. "It''s a little girl, isn''t it?" she asked, her voice pitched higher than usual in her enthusiasm. Her amber eyes sparkled with joy as she added, "She looks exactly like her mother!"

    Bryan''s gaze flickered briefly to Hermione, his expression a mixture of resignation and something deeper. Without a word, he crouched down next to the newborn elf. Extending a finger, he prodded the elf''s belly with some force.

    "Oh, she''s resting!" Hermione eximed; her tone sharp with indignation. She shot Bryan a look of pure anger, her previous tears forgotten in the face of what she perceived as unnecessary roughness. "Don''t touch her!"

    But Bryan paid no heed to Hermione''s protests. The veins in his forehead became more distinct as he continued his examination, alternating between poking and rubbing the elf''s tiny abdomen. Despite his increasingly forceful aids, the little elf remained motionless, its eyes stubbornly shut against the world.

    As Bryan worked, a horrifying transformation began to take ce. The elf''s skin, initially a delicate pink so translucent one could almost see through it, began to change color. First, it flushed a deeper pink, then rapidly darkened to a deep crimson red. With each passing moment, the hue deepened further, taking on an ominous purple tinge that spoke of oxygen deprivation.

    Hermione, her anger giving way to mounting anxiety, moved to intervene. She reached out, intending to pull Bryan''s hand away from the fragile newborn. But Bryan, anticipating her action, smoothly blocked her with his elbow, never taking his eyes off the elf.

    "Look carefully, Miss Granger¡ª" Bryan said gravely. "This young elf isn''t sleeping. She''s suffocating¡ª"

    <em>''Suffocating?!''</em>

    Hermione''s mind whirled, unable to process the implications for a moment. Then, as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes, she truly saw the elf for the first time since its birth.

    Hermione''s body went rigid, her blood turning to ice in her veins as the reality of the situation crashed over her. With frantic eyes, she re-examined the tiny body on the floor. The absence of movement in the elf''s chest, which should have been rising and falling with the rhythm of life, was suddenly, horrifyingly obvious.

    A wave of despair washed over Hermione as the inferences became clear. Had all their efforts been for naught? Had they ultimately failed to save both mother and child? The thought was almost too much to bear. Hermione''s face turned pale, as if struck by lightning.

    In the midst of this unfolding drama, movement from the corner of the room drew their attention. Reega, the house-elf mother who had so recently hovered at death''s door, was weakly crawling towards them. Herrge, luminous eyes shed with various emotions: Confusion swirled in their depths, giving way to fear, then a desperate, pleading look. But in the end, no words passed her lips. She simply stared at Bryan, her gaze nk yet somehow expectant.

    Bryan, for his part, was in an unfamiliar territory. The details of wizarding healthcare, particrly when it came to magical creatures, were not his area of expertise. His mind raced through various possibilities, discarding and considering options at lightning speed. In the end, he made a decision born of his Muggle upbringing.

    Turning to Reega, Bryan spoke with seriousness that diluted the uncertainty he felt. "I''m not certain if we can save her¡ª"

    With swift, decisive movements, Bryan set to work. His fingers now surprisingly gentle given their earlier forcefulness, carefully cleared the sticky amniotic fluid from the corners of the little elf''s mouth. Then, with utmost care, he grasped the newborn''s tiny body and turned her face-down.

    What followed was a tense, rhythmic sequence of actions. Bryan''s hand,rge enough to support the elf''s entire body, began a series of measured pats on her back with asional pauses to rub.

    Hermione, raised in the Muggle world like Bryan, recognized the technique immediately. Her eyes widened with a mix of hope and excitement.

    "That''s the Muggle way!" she eximed, her voice carrying a note of wonder. Memories of educational television programs shed through her mind, scenes of emergency responders performing simr actions on human doll infants. After watching for a few moments, her natural curiosity got the better of her. "Will it work, Professor Watson?"

    Bryan''s response to Hermione''s first exmation was a nomittal snort, but he offered no answer to her question. His focus remained entirely on the task at hand. Hermione, undeterred by hisck of response, continued to chatter, recounting in detail what she had seen on television and offering her own thoughts on the procedure.

    The decaying ssroom, with its peeling wallpaper and crumbling ster, became a stage for this most primal of dramas. The persistent rustling of Bryan''s movements was the only sound breaking the tense silence. It was as if Death and Life themselves stood in opposite corners of the room, waiting with bated breath to see which would im victory.

    For Hermione, it was the longest and most agonizing wait of her life. She stood to the side, her body tense with anxiety, watching Professor Watson''s every move as he worked to revive the tiny elf. The feeling of helplessness weighed heavily upon her; her extensive knowledge of magic seemed utterly useless in this critical moment.

    As the seconds stretched into minutes with no change in the newborn elf''s condition, even Hermione''s normally bright and determined eyes began to dim with despair. The hope that had red so brightly at the sight of the newborn was slowly being extinguished, reced by a sorrow so deep it seemed to physically weigh her down.

    With a heavy heart, Hermione turned her gaze to Reega. The house-elf mother stood as still as a statue, herrge eyes fixed unblinkingly on the motionless form of her child in Professor Watson''s hands.

    <strong>Cough, cough¡ª</strong>

    Just as dark despair was about topletely envelop Hermione''s heart, she suddenly heard a faint coughing sound.

    The sound was so weak that for a moment Hermione thought she had imagined it. But when Professor Watson, who had paused for an instant, suddenly resumed his efforts with renewed vigor, Hermione knew her ears had not deceived her.

    "Uwah!"

    The cry that followed was unlike anything Hermione had ever heard before. It was high-pitched and reedy, carrying notes of distress and confusion. But to Hermione, standing in that dark, musty ssroom, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. It was as if someone had suddenly thrown open the curtains, flooding the room with brilliant sunlight.

    "She''s alive!" Hermione cheered was loudly. She began to jump up and down, her bushy hair bouncing wildly, tears of relief and happiness flying from her cheeks with each enthusiastic leap.

    Curiously, Bryan''s reaction was far more unresponsive. There was no smile of triumph, no sigh of relief. Instead, his eyes narrowed as he studied the tiny life now squirming in his palm. His light purple irises seemed to flicker with an inscrutable light that Hermione, in her tion, failed to notice.

    "Here you go¡ª" Bryan''s voice was neutral as he bent down to return the newborn to its mother.

    Reega, the house-elf who had endured so much in the past hours, seemed unable to fully process what was happening. As Bryan ced the baby in her arms, she epted it instinctively, but her body remained hunched and motionless.

    "She needs clothes!" Hermione''s eximed breathlessly. Her eyes darted around the dpidated ssroom, searching for anything that could be used as makeshift clothing. The only option she found was a set of moth-eaten curtains hanging limply from a nearby window, but even in her frantic state, Hermione knew they were far from suitable.

    For a few seconds, Hermione stood biting her lip, her brow furrowed in concentration as she struggled with the problem. Then, with a look of determination, she drew her wand. With a whispered incantation and a precise movement, she used a Severing Charm to cut a generous piece of fabric from her own robe.

    Moving with gentle care, Hermione draped the cloth over the newborn elf, ensuring it was snug but not restrictive. As she stepped back to survey her handiwork, she caught sight of Professor Watson. His eyebrow was raised, his expression a mixture of surprise and something else Hermione couldn''t quite decipher.

    The tender moment was interrupted by a tiny, timid voice that seemed to fill the entire ssroom despite its softness.

    "Master¡ª"

    The source of the voice was none other than the newborn elf herself, who struggled out of Reega''s arms and onto the floor. Attempting to stand for the first time, it stumbled several times, nearly falling. But it managed to straighten up, clutching the piece of cloth Hermione had given her, and bowed respectfully to Hermione.

    "Oh, she can speak!" Hermione''s voice was filled with wonder and amazement. The realization that this creature, just a few minutes old, was capable of speaking and walking hadpletely overturned her understanding of magical beings.

    "Unlike human babies, some magical creatures are born with full consciousness and racial abilities. They pass on experiences through blood bonds¡ª" Bryan exined calmly to the astonished Hermione. "This allows them to enter the world with a level of awareness and capability that human infants take months or even years to develop."

    "That''s amazing¡ª" Hermione said eagerly, but suddenly her expression changed as she realized something. She took two steps back, looking at the newborn elf in horror. "I¡ª I¡ª you''re mistaken. I''m not your master!"

    "Oh, I''m afraid she hasn''t made a mistake, Miss Granger¡ª" Bryan''s calm voice cut through Hermione''s panic like a knife. His tone was matter-of-fact, as he exined the situation. "House-elves receive clothes in only two situations. The first is when they''re dismissed by their previous masters, who give them clothes as a symbol of their freedom. The second is when they''re epting a new master, and they receive clothes then as a symbol of their new bond."

    He paused, his gaze moving from Hermione to the newborn elf and back again. "Normally, these clothes apany the house-elf for life. So, congrattions, Miss Granger. You''ve acquired a house-elf."

    "No!" Hermione cried out in panic. "I don''t want¡ª I don''t need a house-elf. I don''t want to be anyone''s master!"

    Before Hermione could finish speaking, the newborn elf, who could barely walk, threw itself at Hermione''s feet. It let out pitiful sobs and pleas, "Master, please don''t send me away. I belong to you."

    Just as Hermione thought the situation couldn''t be any moreplex, another unexpected turn of events caught herpletely off guard.

    Reega, the mother elf who had remained silent throughout this exchange, finally stirred. She gazed at her child at Hermione''s feet, for a long moment. After taking a few deep, steadying breaths, she then asked with utmost respect, "Honored Professor Watson and esteemed Miss Granger, is there anything Reega can do to serve you?"

    "What?" Hermione cried out. "Serve? Oh, I don''t need¡ª Wait, you need rest, Reega. Surely, you''re not nning to continue working? And what about your child!"

    "There is none¡ª" Bryan said calmly.

    In the wake of Bryan''s answer, Reega bowed low, her long nose nearly touching the dusty stone floor at both Bryan and Hermione.

    Then, without further ado, without even a nce at her newborn child still huddled at Hermione''s feet, Reega disappeared. The crisp "pop" of her disapparition echoed in the musty ssroom.

    Hermione stood rooted to the spot, her mind struggling to process what had just transpired. The sudden absence of Reega seemed to have stolen her voice. When she finally managed to speak, her words came out as barely more than a whisper, tinged with disbelief and a growing sense of dread.

    "Where¡ª where did she go?"

    "Perhaps back to the kitchen to tend the fires, or to clean, or to wash clothes for the students and staff of this castle¡ª" Bryan said, his toneplex as he pressed his lips together.

    "But her¡­ her child..." The words seemed to physically pain Hermione as she choked them out.

    "Heh, Miss Granger¡ª" Bryan''splicatedugh masked the heaviness in his heart. "You didn''t think house-elves have the same tradition of caring for their young as humans, did you?"

    "Oh, of course¡ª" He added, almost as an afterthought. "If their offspring don''t immediately find a master, they do help look after them until the young ones find a wizard willing to ept them."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0484 Follow

    0484 Follow

    In the dimly lit, musty ssroom, Hermione found herself caught in a moment of profound bewilderment. Her gaze darted frantically between the tiny, newborn house-elf clinging desperately to her feet and the impassive face of Professor Watson. The weight of the situation seemed to press down on her, robbing her of speech.

    In the quiet, dark ssroom, only the faint pleading of the house-elf and the howling wind outside could be heard.

    "But... but what am I supposed to do with it, Professor Watson?" Hermione stammered; her words tinged with panic. She attempted to move her foot, hoping to create some distance between herself and the creature, but the house-elf, driven by an instinctual fear of abandonment, only tightened its grip on her leg.

    "I can''t take care of it, Professor, I have sses to attend " Hermione continued, her voice cracking with emotion.

    Bryan''s response was not what Hermione had expected or hoped for. "Oh, you don''t need to take care of it, Hermione¡ª" he began, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth showing his amusement at herplete bewilderment.

    "House-elves are incredibly resilient creatures," he continued, his tone taking on a more educational note. "Don''t let this little one''s size fool you; it''s fully capable of taking care of itself. Plus, it possesses the magic inherited from the bloodline of house-elves, so¡ª" He paused here, carefully considering his next words before continuing, "You only need to give it orders¡ª"

    "Orders?" Hermione repeated dumbly, her voice hollow with disbelief.

    At Hermione''s feet, the house-elf''s enormous eyes, which had been brimming with tears moments before, now lit up with an almost manic joy upon hearing the word ''orders.'' The creature finally released its death-grip on Hermione''s shoces, wobbling unsteadily to its feet. It lifted its excessivelyrge head, staring up at Hermione with eyes that seemed to take up nearly a third of its wrinkled face. The adoration in that gaze was unmistakable and, to Hermione, deeply unsettling.

    "Mistress Granger,mand. Serve!" the tiny creature squeaked; its high-pitched voice filled with an eagerness that made Hermione''s heart ache.

    "It knows my name!" Hermione eximed, her surprise momentarily overriding her difort.

    "Of course, it knows your name," Bryan exined, his tone matter-of-fact. "When you gave this little one your clothes, a mysterious contract was formed between you. You should give it a name. That''s your responsibility." With these words, he took a deliberate step back, physically and metaphorically distancing himself from the situation.

    Hermione felt a surge of indignation at the professor''s words. Every fiber of her being rebelled against the idea of naming the creature, of epting any sort of ownership over it. Naming the young elf wasn''t her duty, she thought fiercely. It should be its mother''s responsibility. But even as this thought crossed her mind, the memory of Reega''s departure ¨C how she had vanished without so much as a backward nce at her newborn child ¨C rose in Hermione''s mind.

    She pressed her lips together tightly, a mixture of anger and sorrow welling up inside her. The way house-elves passed on their legacy, their apparent indifference to their own offspring, defied her imagination. These small creatures, she realized with a pang of anguish, were even more pitiful than she had initially thought. They were subjected to a form of envement, so absolute, that it began quite literally from the moment of their birth.

    "Alright, a name. Let me think¡ª" Hermione muttered, her voice catching in her throat. She gazed down at the house-elf, taking in its submissive posture ¨C head bowed, eyes downcast, waiting with patience that seemed unnatural in a newborn creature. A flicker of anger sparked in Hermione''s amber eyes, kindled by the sheer unfairness of it all.

    For a long moment, Hermione stood silent, her brow furrowed in deep concentration. Her expression shifted rapidly, cycling through frustration, determination, and finally, a sh of inspiration. Suddenly, her face lit up.

    "Dom¡ª" she began, then quickly corrected herself, her voice growing more certain. "Fr¨¦odom. If you''re willing, that''s the name I''d like to give you."

    At this, Bryan raised an eyebrow, a flicker of recognition passing across his face.

    <strong>Fr¨¦odom</strong> ¨C the pronunciation of ''freedom'' in ancient runes.

    The newly named Fr¨¦odom struggled with the unfamiliar word, its tiny brow furrowing with concentration. "F-Fr¨¦odom¡ª" it repeated, stumbling over the sybles. As it spoke, it bowed even lower, its nose nearly touching the dusty stone floor. Despite this show of subservience, its protrudingrge ears twitched with unmistakable excitement.

    "Great, kind Mistress Granger has bestowed a name, Fr¨¦odom¡ª, Mistress!" the little elf squeaked, its voice filled with a joy that seemed inconsistent to the simple act of naming.

    Fr¨¦odom tilted its small head, its enormous eyes fixed somewhere around the level of Hermione''s knees. It seemed to be gathering its courage before speaking again. "What can Fr¨¦odom do to serve the great Mistress Granger? Fr¨¦odom forever belongs to the great Mistress Granger!"

    The words hit Hermione like a physical blow. "Don''t say that!" she cried out, her voice a mixture of anger and fierce determination. The vehemence of her own reaction startled her, but she pressed on, driven by a deep-seated need to right what she perceived as terribly wrong.

    "I''m not your mistress, Fr¨¦odom," she insisted, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I... I just gave you some clothes and helped name you, that''s all. You don''t belong to anyone, understand? You''re free. You can do anything you want to do." A thought struck her, and she added quickly, "Of course, if you want to find your mother, that''s fine too. I''ll help you find her!"

    But Hermione''s impassioned speech, far from having the liberating effect she had hoped for, seemed to provoke an even more intense response from Fr¨¦odom. The little creature, its face contorting with distress, immediately threw itself at Hermione''s feet. Itsrge, clear eyes overflowed with tears, quickly soaking through the fabric of Hermione''s trouser leg.

    "Oh, don''t cry, Fr¨¦odom. I¡ª" Hermione began, her voice softening with concern. But before she could finish her thought, Fr¨¦odom''s demeanor changed dramatically.

    "Mistress Granger gave an order!" the tiny elf eximed, leaping to its feet with surprising agility. All traces of distress vanished from its face, reced by an expression of unabashed excitement. It stared up at Hermione with eyes that seemed to glow with eagerness, awaiting her nextmand.

    Hermione''s mouth fell open in shock. She turned helplessly towards Professor Watson, her eyes wide with confusion and growing dismay.

    Bryan, who had been observing the exchange with an air of detached interest, now spoke up. His voice was calm as he exined, "Serving wizards is the cursed purpose of house-elves. This idea is deeply ingrained¡ª" He paused, noting Hermione''s expression. It was clear she wanted to argue. But, before she could voice her objections, he continued, "This matter isn''t as simple as you think. This servitude is embedded in the very soul of house-elves, and it''s passed down through their bloodline to the next generation."

    Hermione''s posture stiffened, her chin protruding out stubbornly as she prepared to counter this argument.

    "But that''s no reason for us to ignore the unjust treatment they suffer!" she insisted, her voice rising with passion. "I can''t believe wizards would treat them like this. They are independent beings. They should work for themselves, have holidays, receive wages... They..." She faltered for a moment, then rallied, her voice taking on an edge of righteous anger. "Oh, Hogwarts even had a house-elf about to give birth doing heavy housework!"

    Her amber eyes shed as she turned her re fully on Bryan. "The school should pay them, Professor, they should also enjoy various holidays. It''s their rightful entitlement!"

    Looking at the bristling young witch, Bryan seemed a bit helpless in the face of her fervent idealism. "At heart, I believe what you''re saying makes sense, Miss Granger, but in reality, it''s not as simple as you think. First..." He paused, choosing his words with care. "Well, if you want to fight for house-elf rights, you first need to convince them to ept it, right?"

    This statement gave Hermione pause. Her brow furrowed as she pondered the implications of what Professor Watson was saying. The idea that the house-elves themselves might resist efforts to improve their situation was aplication she hadn''t fully considered.

    Seeing that he had sessfully silenced Hermione, at least temporarily, Bryan breathed a small sigh of relief. He rubbed his stomach absently, muttering, "I''ve missed two meals today. I must find something to eat¡ª"

    His words seemed to snap Hermione out of her contemtive state. "Wait, Professor Watson¡ª" she called out, her tone once again tinged with panic. "But what about the house-elf, Fr¨¦odom? What should I do? I... I can''t find a ce... I mean, I have to go to school, Professor¡ª"

    "Ah¡ª" Bryan paused in his movements, considering the dilemma. A student with a house-elf constantly following behind, shouting ''Mistress'' and ''serve,'' would indeed be rather inappropriate, not to mention disruptive to the school environment. After a moment''s thought, he offered a suggestion. "If you don''t want it to follow you... I suggest you could send it to the kitchen to work with the other house-elves. There are many of its kind there; I''m sure it would be happy there."

    "Work? Fr¨¦odom was born less than half an hour ago, Professor Watson!" Hermione eximed, her voice rising in pitch with her indignation.

    Bryan looked at the young witch, who seemed determined to cast him in the role of a cruel exploiter. He shrugged his shoulders, "In that case...just keep it in your dormitory. There''s no school rule against students adopting house-elves, is there?"

    With those parting words, Bryan turned and left the ssroom, his footsteps echoing in the stone corridors. He left behind a frantic young witch and a house-elf whose eyes were filled with unquestioning adoration for her.

    As the night deepened, its inky darkness settling over the castle like a heavy nket, the Gryffindormon room remained a pocket of warmth and light. The crackling fire in the hearth cast flickering shadows on the walls, creating a cozy atmosphere despite thete hour. In a quiet corner near the firece, Harry and Ron hunched over a table, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of candlelight as they worked on their homework.

    They had spent thest two hours fabricating next month''s fortune charts for Professor Trwney''s Divination ss, a task that had left them both feeling mentally drained and slightly silly. Now, with that dubious assignmentplete, Ron found himself at loose ends, idly tapping his quill against the parchment as he searched for something else to upy his time.

    Harry, on the other hand, seemed to have found a new wellspring of motivation. He pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. Sucking thoughtfully on the end of his quill, he pondered how to approach his essay for the new Physical Education ss.

    This assignment was unprecedented at Hogwarts. An essay on dueling was not something any student had been asked to write before, and there were almost no examples in the library to reference. Harry, however, felt a spark of confidence. He believed he had some talent in dueling, and after listening to Professor Watson''s theoretical lecture, he found he had some thoughts of his own on the subject.

    After a moment of contemtion, Harry began to write, his quill scratching softly against the parchment.

    Ron''s attention, however, had begun to wander. His blue eyes roamed around the spaciousmon room, taking in the familiar sights of his fellow Gryffindors bent over their own homework or engaged in quiet conversations. Suddenly, a thought struck him, and he turned back to Harry.

    "Where''s Hermione?" he said, breaking the silence. " We haven''t seen her all evening. Even if she''s in the library, Madam Pince should have chased everyone out by now¡ª"

    Harry looked up from his essay, surprised not only by Ron''s observation but also by the fact that Ron even remembered the librarian''s name. It took Harry a few seconds to recall who Madam Pince was, despite seeing her stern face every day at meals in the Great Hall.

    "No idea¡ª" Harry replied casually, his tone showing that he wasn''t particrly concerned. In his mind, Hermione had probably just lost track of time while reading, which wasn''t an umon urrence.

    Ron nced at Harry a few times, watching as his friend continued to work on the essay for Physical Education ss. Across the room, he could see Neville struggling with the same assignment. Over the course of the evening, Neville had chewed his quill down to a stub without making much progress on the parchment in front of him.

    The peaceful atmosphere of themon room was suddenly disrupted as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open with a creak. Ron''s head snapped around at the sound, his eyes widening as he recognized the figure climbing through the portrait hole.

    It was indeed Hermione returning from what they assumed had been a marathon study session in the library. Ron raised his hand, ready to greet her with his usual casual wave, but the gesture froze halfway as his brow furrowed in confusion.

    "Oh, what''s wrong with her?" he muttered, more to himself than to Harry.

    Hermione''s appearance was far from her usual neat andposed self. Arge piece of her robe''s hem was conspicuously missing. Her schoolbag, which she typically slung casually over her shoulder, was now clutched tightly to her chest like a shield.

    Hermione''s entire demeanor screamed that something was amiss; she looked as if she had just stolen a priceless-artifact(Books) from the restricted section of the library. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, and her eyebrows were drawn together in an expression of barely concealed panic.

    Harry, hearing the concern in Ron''s voice, nced up from his essay. His gaze quickly found Hermione, and in an instant, his quill-holding hand froze mid-sentence. The sight of Hermione in such an unusual state immediately set off rm bells in his mind.

    As soon as she entered themon room, Hermione''s eyes, wide with a mixture of anxiety and determination, scanned the room until theynded on Harry and Ron by the firece. She walked towards the two boys, pretending as if nothing had happened, but even the daydreaming Neville noticed that Hermione was hiding something.

    When Hermione finally reached their table, she all but copsed into the empty chair beside them. Her arms remained wrapped tightly around her schoolbag, knuckles white with the force of her grip. She was breathing heavily, as if she''d just sprinted the length of the castle.

    Ron, never one for patience or subtlety, blurted out his question as soon as Hermione sat down. "What''s going on?" He stared suspiciously at the bag she was clutching tightly. "Don''t tell me you''ve been stealing something?"

    Hermione''s head snapped up at Ron''s words, her eyes shing with abination of indignation and barely suppressed panic. If looks could cast spells, Ron would have found himself on the receiving end of a particrly nasty hex.

    This guy, Hermione thought bitterly, had no idea that she had gone to find Professor Watson for him tonight, only to bring back a big problem for herself.

    "I need help!" Hermione said, taking a deep breath after ncing around guiltily.

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    <span style="text-decoration:underline"><strong>Hermione & S.P.E.W</strong>

    <em>Many readers have talked about Hermione and the usefulness or uselessness of S.P.E.W. So, Here is a theory on Hermione and SPEW:</em>

    Hermione''s fight for house-elf rights through S.P.E.W. was aplex projection of her own struggles and fears as a Muggle-born witch in an increasingly hostile wizarding world. Hermione''s voice for house-elves was, in fact, a subconscious way of addressing her own experiences with discrimination and her fears about the rising tide of blood purism.

    As a Muggle-born witch, Hermione had faced constant prejudice from pure-blood supremacists like Draco who called her a "Mudblood." Despite her exceptional magical abilities and academic achievements, she must have realized that a significant portion of the wizardingmunity would never fully ept her due to her heritage. This realization likely became more acute as Voldemort''s influence grew and he tried to eradicate the Muggle-born wizards like herself.

    Hermione had her intelligence and the drive to make a difference, but she found herself in a difficult position. She wasn''t the "Chosen One" like Harry, nor did she have the pure-blood status of Ron. Her attempts to directly address the treatment of Muggle-borns might have been dismissed as personal bias or self-interest. In this context, the plight of house-elves presented an opportunity for Hermione to channel her activism and fears into a cause that, while rted, was not directly tied to her personal circumstances.

    The parallels between the treatment of house-elves and historical justifications for human very were likely obvious to Hermione, given her Muggle background and education. Themon refrain that house-elves were "happy ves" eerily echoed simr arguments used to justify the envement of ck people throughout history. For Hermione, this connection was clear and deeply troubling.

    S.P.E.W., therefore, became Hermione''s proxy battle ¨C a cause she could champion without being used of self-interest, and one where she could make difference in a world where she often felt powerless. It was her way of fighting against systemic oppression and ingrained prejudices in wizarding society.

    But, Ironically, in her eagerness to liberate the house-elves, Hermione sometimes overlooked their own expressed desires and cultural differences, pushing her own vision of freedom onto them. This misstep was a reflection of her youth and inexperience in activism, as well as her intense need to effect change in any way possible.

    In essence, S.P.E.W. represented more than just a campaign for house-elf rights. It was Hermione''s attempt to grapple withrger issues of discrimination and injustice in the wizarding world, filtered through the lens of a passionate, intelligent teenager trying to find her ce and make a difference in a society that often made her feel like an outsider.</strong>

 0485 Hermioneâ€™s Secret

    0485 Hermione¡¯s Secret

    Harry and Ron exchanged nces, both seeing the surprise in each other''s eyes. They had known Hermione for so long, yet they had never heard her speak in such a tone.

    "What''s wrong?" Harry immediately sensed that Hermione was in big trouble. She seemed reluctant to let anyone know. After looking around to ensure no one was paying attention to them, Harry lowered his voice and asked, "What happened, Hermione?"

    Hermione''s fingers tightened around the strap of her worn leather school bag, her knuckles whitening with the force of her grip. Her eyes darted around themon room, scanning for potential eavesdroppers.

    Only when she was satisfied that no one was paying them any attention did she speak. "You must keep this a secret,"

    "Do you even need to ask?" Ron said eagerly. "Come on, Hermione, tell us what''s going on!"

    Perhaps it was the genuine worry evident in her friends'' expressions that gave Hermione a modicum of courage. Her shoulders rxed slightly, though her grip on the bag remained firm. She cast another furtive nce towards Colin Creevey and his younger brother Dennis, who were huddled over a magical camera nearby, before motioning for Harry and Ron toe even closer.

    "What are you up to?" Ron grumbled, reluctantly abandoning thefortable embrace of the sofa. He and Harry pushed the heavy oak coffee table back a few inches. They perched on its edge, effectively creating a barrier between Hermione and any potentially prying eyes in themon room.

    "Remember to keep your mouth shut, Ron!" Hermione hissed, her tone carrying a warning that made Ron''s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Finally, with agonizing slowness, she loosened her death grip on the school bag she had been clutching so tightly. The sound of the zipper opening seemed unnaturally loud in the tense silence that had fallen over the trio.

    Harry was holding his breath, half-expecting Hermione to reveal that she had actually broken into a professor''s office and stolen something. After all, it wouldn''t be the first time. But as the zipper parted, revealing the contents of the bag, Harry''s eyes widened in shock. A small, timid head peeked out from the gap, itsrge, tennis-ball-sized eyes blinking owlishly in the dim light of themon room. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat, his entire face freezing in an expression of utter disbelief.

    "<strong>My God</strong>, are you cra¡ª" Ron''s exmation of surprise was abruptly cut short as Hermione''s hand shot out, quickly pushing the little creature''s head back into the bag. Her eyes shed dangerously as she hissed, "Shut your mouth, Weasley!" She then shot a warning nce at Neville who had looked up from his textbook, curiosity piqued by themotion. Frightened by Hermione''s fierce gaze, Neville quickly lowered his head, pretending with all his might that he hadn''t seen or heard a thing.

    "Have you gone mad, Hermione?" Ron''s voice had dropped to a barely audible whisper, but the intensity of his shock was evident in every syble. His eyes were fixed on the bag Hermione was once again hugging protectively to her chest. "Even if you want to stand up for these house-elves, you didn''t need to adopt one! They''re not owls or toads, for Merlin''s sake!"

    "Thank you for the reminder, Weasley!" Hermione''s tone could have frozen the ck Lake solid. The icy sarcasm in her voice made Ron visibly recoil.

    Harry, his mind racing to make sense of the situation, couldn''t help but ask the question that was burning in his thoughts. "Where did you get it from?" he whispered urgently.

    A wild thought urred to him, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Did you sneak into the Hog''s Head and win it from a stranger in some bizarre magical bet?"

    The reference to their first year at Hogwarts hung in the air between them. They all remembered all too well how Hagrid had been tricked by Quirrell, who was possessed by Voldemort. Quirrell had used a dragon egg and a few well-ced drinks to loosen Hagrid''s tongue, coaxing out the secret of how to get past the three-headed dog guarding the Philosopher''s Stone.

    "Don''t be ridiculous, Harry," Hermione said, her irritation evident in the set of her jaw and the furrow of her brow. "Nobody sells house-elves like they''re trinkets in a shop!" She took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. "Can you both just be quiet for a moment? I''m about to exin everything, and I''d rather not have to repeat myself."

    "We''re all ears!" Ron said quickly, his curiosity clearly overriding any lingering fear of Hermione''s wrath. He leaned in even closer, nearly toppling off the edge of the coffee table in his eagerness to hear the story.

    Themon room had grown quieter still as the night deepened. The newly appointed Head Boy wasx in his dutiespared to his predecessor. His influence had spread to the prefects under hismand, who were no longer as vignt in their nightly patrols of themon room. Gone were the days when Percy Weasley, Ron''s older brother, would lurk in the shadows, ever ready to send dawdlers scurrying back to their beds with a sharp word and a disapproving re.

    As Hermione began her tale, the mes in the grand firece gradually dwindled, casting long, dancing shadows across the room. The enchanted candles suspended from the vaulted ceiling, sensing the dwindling upancy of themon room, dimmed their light to a soft, amber glow. In the vast space that usually buzzed with the chatter andughter of Gryffindor students, only Hermione, Harry, and Ron remained, huddled together.

    Hermione finished her story though she carefully omitted certain details she deemed too sensitive to share. She recounted how she had sought out Professor Watson alone after their Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, supposedly to inquire about the part in the lesson he had skipped during ss.

    Harry and Ron stared at Hermione''s bulging bag, falling into a long silence.

    "Professor Watson and you, helping a house-elf give birth¡ª" Ron finally broke the silence. He turned to Harry, his blue eyes wide with bewilderment. "I''ve never heard of anything so utterly bizarre in my entire life!"

    Harry nodded emphatically. Despite having spent over three years in the Wizarding world, experiencing magic and adventures that would seem oundish to any Muggle, he still found himself utterly bbergasted by Hermione''s experience.

    Hermione''s gaze was fixed on her bag, her eyes brimming with a cocktail of emotions ¨C concern, determination, and a hint of fear.

    "What do you n to do, Hermione?" Harry asked tentatively, his voice gentle as he broached the question, they were all silently contemting.

    "I originally intended to return Fr¨¦odom to its mother, the elf called Reega¡ª" Hermione said without hesitation, her tone suggesting she had been pondering over this dilemma for hours. She turned to Ron with a flicker of hope in her eyes. "But I don''t know where the school kitchen is located¡ª"

    "Oh¡ª" Ron immediately understood Hermione''s intention. He hesitated before saying, "Fred and George do know. They often sneak food from the kitchen for their parties. I''ve asked them about their secret route countless times, but they''ve always refused to spill the beans." He paused, his brow furrowing deeper. "But hang on a minute ¨C you really want to return this little elf to its mother?"

    Harry understood the unspoken question lurking behind Ron''s words. The events Hermione had experienced that night ¨C the unsettling dynamics between the house-elf mother and child, the cryptic teachings of Professor Watson ¨C all pointed to a harsh reality that made Harry feel that returning the little elf to its mother was probably just Hermione''s wishful thinking.

    "It was just born!" Hermione''s voice rang out sharply in the quietmon room, startling both boys. "It needs care and nurturing. It must return to its mother!"

    As if in response to Hermione''s outburst, her bag wriggled slightly. The young Fr¨¦odom inside seemed to want to make a sound, to join the conversation about its fate, but bound by Hermione''s earliermand, it could only remain quiet and still.

    "Oh,e on, Hermione¡ª" Ron''s exasperated tone carried a hint of their long-standing disagreements about house-elf welfare. "Are you treating this house-elf like it''s a wizard child, Hermione? Professor Watson has already exined that house-elves are inherently drawn to following orders. They''re born with an instinct to work and serve. It''s in their nature to love working!"

    "No one is born inherently loving to cook, mop floors, and doundry, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione snapped back, her cheeks flushing with anger. Her eyes shed dangerously, daring Ron to continue his argument.

    Harry, caught in the middle of this familiar tension between his two best friends, felt torn. He could see the ws in Ron''s argument, remembering all too well their encounters with Dobby. Yet he hesitated to voice his thoughts, wary of inadvertently ''encouraging'' some of Hermione''s ''unrealistic'' ideas. So, he swallowed the words that were on the tip of his tongue, watching as Hermione and Ron red at each other across the coffee table.

    The standoff between Hermione and Ron was a scene Harry had witnessed countless times over the years. So, he was somewhat used to this scene by now.

    "But what if¡ª" Harry began hesitantly, trying to find a diplomatic way to voice his concerns. "What if the house-elf called Reega doesn''t want her child back? Then what would we do?"

    Even as he spoke, Harry knew his words were a gross understatement of the situation. Ron, for all hisck of tact, was right about one thing: you can''t treat house-elves like wizards. If this was the way elf parents and children interacted, Hermione probably couldn''t change it.

    Hermione bit her lip and said nothing. From her reaction, Harry believed she was well aware of this issue. Although it was indeed hard to ept that a mother would willingly reject her newborn child, and that the child would in turn ignore its birth mother and chose a stranger who had only given it a piece of clothing as its master.

    Although his parents had died at Voldemort''s hands when he was very young, Harry at least knew that his parents loved him and were willing to sacrifice their lives for him.

    "I can''t allow Fr¨¦odom to simply go to the kitchen and join the ranks of the working house-elves¡ª" Hermione''s voice cut through the heavy silence, her tone resolute and filled with determination. "At the very least, I need to teach it to fight for its own rights, to understand that it deserves better than a life of servitude!"

    "Oh, brilliant¡ª" Ron''s sarcastic p echoed in the quiet room. "So, you''re nning to keep it in the dormitory, are you? I bet by tomorrow at lunchtime, the entire Hogwarts will know you''re hiding a house-elf in your dorm. What do you reckon Professor McGonagall will have to say about that?"

    Ron''s words struck at the heart of the practical issues surrounding Hermione''s impulsive rescue. Despite her remarkable intelligence and usually meticulous nning, even Hermione couldn''t deny the impossibility of keeping a house-elf hidden in the crowded Gryffindor tower.

    Professor McGonagall, with her strict adherence to rules and her no-nonsense attitude, would never allow such a tant vition of school regtions. Moreover, Parvati and Lavender, Hermione''s chatty roommates, were unlikely to keep such a juicy secret to themselves. This was a house-elf, not a bug living in the wall cracks. There was no way they wouldn''t notice, and she had no right to keep a talking house-elf in their shared dormitory.

    A heavy silence fell over the trio once more. Hermione stared at her bag, her teeth worrying her lower lip until a bead of blood appeared. Seeing her upset like this, Ron''s lips quivered a few times, and he stopped his taunting.

    Harry didn''t feel good either. Although he couldn''t understand why Hermione was so adamant about helping the house-elves, Hermione was his good friend. They had faced countless challenges together over the years, and Harry knew without a doubt that he wouldn''t have survived many of those ordeals without Hermione''s help. She had always been the smartest among the three of them, always having ideas when they encountered problems. Seeing her look so helpless and cornered made Harry''s heart ache with the desire to help.

    "Let''s go!" Harry''s sudden deration shattered the gloomy atmosphere that had settled over them. With a burst of energy, he quickly gathered up the half-written PE ss essay on the table stuffed it into his bag, and then pulled out his invisibility cloak.

    "Where to?" Hermione stared at the invisibility cloak in Harry''s hand for a moment, then looked into Harry''s green eyes.

    "We''re going to ask Hagrid for help¡ª" Harry said, his voice filled with a sudden burst of determination. "Hagrid always used to secretly keep all sorts of magical creatures in the castle when he was a student. He''s got loads of experience with this kind of thing. Maybe he can give you some advice on how to handle this situation."

    "Hurry up," Harry urged, already moving towards the portrait hole. "We''ve got Potions first thing tomorrow morning, and you know Snape would love nothing more than for us to bete. He''s probably dreaming up point deductions for Gryffindor as we speak."

    With that, Harry grasped Hermione''s arm gently but firmly, guiding her towards the exit.

    "Great¡ª" Ron shrugged helplessly again and followed them. "That''s exactly why he was expelled."

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 0486 Sneaking Out

    0486 Sneaking Out

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione were already quite familiar with sneaking out at night to visit Hagrid.

    Since Percy had graduated, the biggest obstacles to roaming the castle in the middle of the night were Filch and his cat, Mrs. Norris. Tonight, fortune smiled upon them as they managed to evade Mrs. Norris''s watchful gaze. However, as they descended the grand stone staircase, they encountered an unexpected hurdle. Several groups of younger students, likely first-years still reveling in their newfound freedom at Hogwarts, were skulking about the castle corridors.

    Hermione, her bushy hair barely contained beneath the Invisibility Cloak, bristled with indignation at this tant disregard for school rules. Her fingers twitched, itching to throw off the cloak and deliver a stern lecture to these wayward youngsters. However, Ron, disying an uncharacteristic bout of prudence, gently restrained her with a hand on her arm.

    "Oh, don''t bother, Hermione, You''re not a prefect yet!" His words, though meant to pacify, seemed to have the opposite effect on Hermione.

    "The current Head Boy and Girl arepletely useless!" Hermione hissed indignantly. She crouched lower, her keen eyes following the movements of the younger students as they passed by in huddled groups. "The school turns a blind eye to this grant rule-breaking. Oh, this is Professor Watson''s responsibility¡ª"

    Hermione now seemed to have some grievances against Professor Watson andined about him for quite a while. Harry wanted to remind her that they were currently breaking school rules themselves.

    As they maneuvered through the castle, it became increasingly apparent that the Invisibility Cloak, was struggling to conceal their growing forms. Once able to easily cover the three of them, it now barely reached their ankles, leaving them in constant danger of exposure. They stumbled awkwardly across the castle grounds, the cool night dew seeping through their trouser cuffs and chilling their skin.

    Hagrid''s hut, situated at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, still had its lights on and it seemed the night owl Hagrid was still awake. The trio crossed the slightly muddy vegetable patch, their feet sinking slightly into the soft earth with each step. The pungent aroma of pumpkins and various magical herbs filled their nostrils as they approached the sturdy wooden door. Harry raised his hand and knocked firmly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.

    Immediately, a cacophony of barking erupted from within, followed by the frantic scratching of ws against wood.

    "Quiet, Fang!" Hagrid''s gruff voice boomed from inside, barely muffled by the thick wooden door. The sounds of heavy footsteps approaching grew louder, and then the door swung open with a creak of protest from its aged hinges.

    As the door opened, revealing Hagrid''s towering form, Harry also simultaneously removed the Invisibility Cloak.

    "Ah, it''s you three¡ª" Seeing the three youngsters standing in front of his hut, Hagrid merely raised an eyebrow, not seeming surprised at all, as if he had expected them.

    Harry''s gaze immediately fell upon Hagrid''s hands, and he felt a twinge of concern. Each of Hagrid''s ten sausage-like fingers was wrapped in white bandages, looking even more swollen than usual, which was saying something given Hagrid''s naturally massive size.

    "What happened to your hands, Hagrid?" Harry asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice.

    "Just a minor injury¡ª" Hagrid mumbled vaguely, his tone dismissive. He beckoned them inside with a bandaged hand, "Come in quickly. If someone catches you here, I''ll have no choice but to give you three detention myself."

    As they filed into the warm, cluttered interior of Hagrid''s hut, Harry''s mind raced. He knew, without a doubt, that the injuries on Hagrid''s hands must have been caused by the st-Ended Skrewts, Hagrid''stest and most dangerous "pets." They had already experienced the ferocity of these bizarre creatures, Hagrid''s new summer creations, just a few days ago in their Care of Magical Creatures ss. The memory of their scorching sts and razor-sharp pincers made Harry wince in sympathy for Hagrid''s hands.

    "Oh, get off, Fang¡ª" Hagrid''s exasperated voice filled the small space as Fang, ovee with excitement at their arrival, pounced on Hermione. The enormous boarhound''s wet nose pressed insistently against Hermione''s school bag, his powerful sense of smell detecting something unusual within. Hermione clutched her bag tightly to her chest, using her free hand to gently but firmly push away Fang''s snooping muzzle.

    Hagrid moved to the firece, where arge copper kettle hung over the mes. He added more water to it, preparing to make tea for his unexpected guests. Then, he turned and lumbered into the small kitchen area, rummaging through cupboards in search of something edible to offer histe-night visitors..

    Ron, always curious and often the first to speak his mind, asked with undisguised interest, "Who would discover us?" His eyes darted around the hut, as if expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows.

    "Professor Moody, hees every day¡ª" Hagrid''s voice drifted back from the kitchen, apanied by the clinking of mugs and tes.

    Harry and Hermione exchanged surprised nces; their eyebrows raised in silentmunication.

    Harry, voicing their shared curiosity, asked, "Does he patrol the grounds every day?"

    "Oh, not just the grounds¡ª" Hagrid emerged from the kitchen, bncing a te of his Treacle Fudge in one bandaged hand. He set it down on the rough wooden table with a solid thunk, then turned to admonish Fang, who was still whimpering and sniffing at Hermione''s bag. With a gentle but firm nudge of his boot, Hagrid shooed the persistent dog away.

    "He''s a good man, voluntarily helping me patrol the Forbidden Forest, Thanks to him, I have plenty of time every day to take care of the Skrewts. You should thank him too, with Professor Moody around, you don''t have to worry about anyone trying to sneak into the school grounds. Well¡ª"

    Hagrid sat down on the bed, causing it to sag significantly under his weight. He looked at the three of them and asked, "So, what''s the problem?"

    The implication in Hagrid''s words was clear - they usually didn''te here unless there was an issue to be solved. This realization made Harry feel a twinge of guilt. He made a mental note to visit Hagrid more often. But now wasn''t the time to dwell on that. Both Harry and Ron turned their gaze to Hermione, silently urging her to take the lead.

    Hermione took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the motion. "We need your help with something, Hagrid¡ª"

    "Of course¡ª" Hagrid tilted his head, his wild beard shifting with the movement. His dark eyes now held a spark of keen interest as they fixed upon Hermione''s bag. It was clear that Hagrid, like Fang, had sensed that something unusual was hidden within.

    Hermione''s eyes darted to the window, scanning the darkness outside for any sign of movement. Satisfied that they were truly alone, she pursed her lips, swallowed hard, and then, with trembling fingers, unzipped her bag. Carefully, as if handling the most delicate of treasures, she reached in and gently lifted out the small creature nestled within.

    It had to be said that the baby house-elf looked much cuter than the adult ones. Whether it was Dobby, Winky, or Kreacher, none of the house-elves Harry saw were as adorable as Hermione''s.

    "Oh, stay still, Fang, that''s not a gnome!" Hagrid''s warning came toote as Fang, ovee with curiosity and excitement, let out a series of sharp barks. The sudden noise sent the newborn Fr¨¦odom into a state of panic. It stood trembling on the rough wooden floor, its frail legs barely supporting its weight as it faced Fang, who towered over it like a furry mountain.

    Fr¨¦odom was clearly terrified. Itsrge eyes, glistening with unshed tears, darted between Fang and the towering humans surrounding it. If not for the clear bond it had already formed with Hermione, its self-proimed "Mistress Granger," it would have likely fled in blind panic or perhaps even attempted to disapparate.

    Harry and Ron, who hadn''t gotten a clear view of Fr¨¦odom earlier in the dimly litmon room, were now staring at the timid creature with undisguised wonder.

    "A house-elf¡ª" Hagrid''s voice was filled with wonder as he stood up from the bed, the sudden movement causing the floorboards to creak ominously. He roughly pushed Fang aside, his strength easily moving therge dog, and crouched down to peer at Fr¨¦odom with his beady ck eyes. He even extended a carrot-thick finger to prod Fr¨¦odom''s chin, examining it very carefully.

    "This is a newborn, right, Hermione?" Hagrid''s voice was even softer now, filled with wonder. "I reckon it''s just been born¡ª"

    To Fr¨¦odom, Hagrid must have seemed like an absolute giant. The little elf''s eyes grew wider, its tiny form trembling more violently with each passing second. Just as it seemed the poor creature might faint from fright, Hermione swooped in, scooping Fr¨¦odom into her arms with the protective instinct of a mother. She cradled the elf close to her chest, turning to re angrily at Hagrid, silently reprimanding him for his rough handling.

    "Where did you get this?" Hagrid, realizing his mistake, shrugged, then noticed the fabric covering the newborn house-elf and the missing piece from Hermione''s robe. His expression turned amused, "You''ve be its mother, haven''t you, Hermione?"

    Ron, unable to contain himself any longer, burst outughing and even Harry''s lips curled into a smile.

    Hermione, ignoring her friends'' amusement, focused all her attention onforting the frightened elf.

    "Don''t be afraid, Fr¨¦odom," sheforted gently, "That''s Hagrid, he''s my friend. He only looks scary, but he''s actually very nice¡ª"

    Fr¨¦odom, seeming to draw courage from Hermione''s words, peeked out from the safety of her arms. Itsrge eyes, filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity, darted between Hagrid, Harry, and Ron. Then, as if suddenly remembering its ce, the little elf began to squirm.

    "Friend of Mistress Granger¡ª" Fr¨¦odom''s voice was high-pitched and squeaky, barely above a whisper. It seemed to feel it was presumptuous to remain in Hermione''s arms. With surprising agility for one so young, it slid down from Hermione''s embrace to stand on the floor once more.

    Though still visibly frightened, Fr¨¦odom''s sense of duty appeared to override its fear. It bowed deeply to Hagrid, its long nose nearly touching the floor.

    "Is there anything Fr¨¦odom can do for Mr. Hagrid, sir? Fr¨¦odom is good at many tasks!"

    Hagrid, his eyes twinkling with mischief, saw an opportunity he couldn''t resist. "If possible," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind, "the dishes in the kitchen haven''t been washed¡ª"

    "Hagrid!" Hermione''s shout of indignation cut through the air. She lunged forward, grabbing the excitedly trembling Fr¨¦odom and pulling it back into her embrace. Her brown eyes shed with anger as she red at Hagrid. "You don''t need to do anything for anyone, Fr¨¦odom. You''re just a child!"

    Ron, still chuckling, shook his head in amusement. "Now I understand why Mum always wanted a house-elf¡ª" he said, finding the entire scene quite entertaining. "They''re really hard-working!"

    Hagrid, realizing he might have overstepped, raised his bandaged hands in a gesture of innocence. "I was just joking with it, Hermione¡ª" he said, his boomingugh filling the small hut.

    Harry, observing the scene, couldn''t help but recall Professor Watson''s assessment of Hagrid. His words rang true - Hagrid''s love for magical creatures was undeniable, but his understanding of their needs and vulnerabilities sometimes fell short. Harry still vividly remembered their first year when Hagrid had attempted to raise a baby dragon named Norbert in his wooden hut. His attitude towards it had been even gentler than his current treatment of Fr¨¦odom. He had practically considered himself Norbert''s mother, cooing over the dragon and seemingly oblivious to the danger it posed.

    Hagrid, clearly realizing he had touched upon Hermione''s sensitive nerve, decided to change the subject. He grabbed Fang''s ear, gently but firmly dragging the curious boarhound to the other side of the room. The dog whined in protest but obeyed, settling down on arge cushion in the corner. With Fang safely out of the way, Hagrid turned back to the trio, his expression now serious.

    "Tell me¡ª" he began, his voice low and rumbling like distant thunder. "Where did you actually get this little one?"

    Hermione, still cradling Fr¨¦odom protectively, took a deep breath. Her eyes darted to Harry and Ron, seeking silent support, before sheunched into the tale she had recounted to them earlier in the Gryffindormon room.

    "That''s remarkable!" After hearing Hermione''s ount, Hagrid eximed admiringly, "Professor Watson¡ªfor a powerful wizard like him to bother saving a house-elf in difficultbor. Headmaster Dumbledore is same. These great men, they never easily discriminate against anyone. Even for a house-elf, they still feel the need to save it!"

    Harry nodded in agreement, recalling Dumbledore''s kindness towards all magical beings, from centaurs to merpeople. However, Hermione''s face darkened, her brows furrowing in a way that Harry recognized as a prelude to one of her impassioned speeches.

    "But he watched a house-elf who had just given birth go to work," Hermione said, her voice tight with barely contained anger. "He even told me to order Fr¨¦odom to work in the school kitchen too!"

    Hermione''s words tumbled out in a rush, her frustration evident in every word. She spoke of old Kreacher at Sirius''s house. She railed against Barty Crouch from the Department of International Magical Cooperation, recounting how he had treated his house-elf Winky with such heartless cruelty at the Quidditch World Cup.

    Her voice rose in pitch and volume as she circled back to Professor Watson''s seemingly indifferent attitude towards Reega, Fr¨¦odom''s mother, and the newborn elf itself after saving their lives.

    "They all think it''s perfectly normal!" Hermione eximed, her cheeks flushed with indignation. "They think house-elves deserve to be enved by wizards just because they''re obedient!"

    "Wizards like Professor Watson wouldn''t think any creature is born to be enved, Hermione¡ª" Hagrid said patiently, his eyes focusing on the young witch with unexpected intensity. "It''s you who doesn''t understand the situation, not Professor Watson."

    Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Hagrid held up a bandaged hand, silencing her. "For many centuries," he continued, "house-elves have been viewed as personal property by wizards. You want to fight for their rights, to let them enjoy holidays and wages, and that''s admirable. But how will you convince those who use them? Most of those who own house-elves are influential figures like Lucius Malfoy, and they''re not so easy to persuade¡ª"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0487 Stubborn

    0487 Stubborn

    Hagrid''s words not only surprised Harry and Ron but also made Hermione frown. She realized once again that adult wizards'' perspectives differed from those of young wizards.

    For weeks now, Hermione had been focused on how to rescue house-elves from what she perceived as their miserable circumstances. Her mind had been filled with visions of liberated elves, living dignified lives free from servitude. However, she hadn''t fully considered the deeply ingrained attitudes of the many wizards and witches who had grown ustomed to using house-elves in their daily lives.

    Ron''s casual mention of his mother''s long-held desire for a house-elf suddenly took on new significance. Mrs. Weasley was undoubtedly a kind and good-hearted person. If even she held such views on house-elf ownership, Hermione could only imagine ¨C with a shudder ¨C the likely reaction of wizards like the cruel and arrogant Lucius Malfoy to any notion of liberating these magical creatures.

    "But Professor Watson promised me," Hermione said, her voice taking on a stubborn edge as she clung to this ray of hope, "that if the elves agree, he''s willing to give them wages and various holidays¡ª"

    As the words left her mouth, she suddenly realized just how amodating and broadminded Professor Watson had truly been in epting her ideas. A deep frown etched itself across her features as she unconsciously folded her arms tightly across her chest, her mind racing to formte arguments that might persuade the wider wizardingmunity beyond the rtively liberal Hogwarts. As she pondered, she barely noticed Fr¨¦odom, the small house-elf, sliding off herp and tiptoeing quietly across the rough wooden floor of Hagrid''s hut.

    Hagrid''s beetle-ck eyes softened with sympathy as he gazed at Hermione. He leaned forward in his enormous armchair, which creaked under his weight, and said gently but firmly, "You can''t expect everyone to be like Professor Watson and Headmaster Dumbledore, Hermione." His words cut straight to the heart of the matter, making Hermione''s shoulders slump slightly. "How many people can be as noble as them? And even taking Professor Watson''s requirements,"

    Hagrid continued, his tone growing more serious as he stroked his wild, tangled beard, "You let house-elves get paid, but what will they do with the money? No wizard will sell things to house-elves ¨C it''s just not done. The Galleons they earn through hard work will just attract the attention of some bad folks, mark my words. You don''t expect the Ministry of Magic to stand up for them, do you?"

    "Impossible!" Harry interjected forcefully, his green eyes shing with indignation behind his round sses. The memory of recent events was still fresh in his mind as he added, "During the Quidditch World Cup finals, the Ministry wouldn''t even let Remus sit in the best seats. They even sent Aurors to watch over him and others like him, treating them like criminals!"

    "Yeah¡ª" Hagrid''s lips curled into a smile, but none of the three young Gryffindors noticed the underlying bitterness that tinged his expression.

    "So, you see, Hermione," Hagrid continued, his voice a low rumble, "this whole situation isn''t as simple as you think. Now, let''s talk about the holidays you mentioned. That''s another thing that''s just not realistic. Holidays aren''t something house-elves look forward to like we do. They''re born to take care of people; it''s in their very nature. They like it that way, understand? If you don''t let them work, they''ll feel sad, lost even. And as for paying them wages? Well, most elves will take it as an insult to them."

    Hermione, her mind whirling with counter-arguments, immediately seized upon a memory. "But I heard that when Harry freed Dobby," she retorted, her voice rising with passion, "Dobby was absolutely overjoyed!!"

    "Yeah, yeah," Hagrid nodded, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. "There''s always gonna be a few oddballs in every species, ain''t there? I''m not denyin'' that yeh might find a handful of peculiar elves who fancy the idea of freedom. But convincin'' the vast majority of elves ter fight for somethin'' they don''t even want? That''s a fool''s errand, Hermione. It''s just not gonna happen, no matter how noble yer intentions might be."

    Suddenly, Hagrid''s demeanor shifted, his eyes crinkling with delight as he gestured towards his cluttered kitchen area. "Just look at this little fe over here! He''s already makin'' himself happy!"

    Hermione''s head whipped around, her bushy hair flying, as she cast a startled nce towards the kitchen. To her dismay, she discovered that Fr¨¦odom had sneaked away while she was engrossed in the heated discussion. The tiny elf was now enthusiastically assisting Hagrid, having already quietly scrubbed Hagrid''s enormous, basin-sized bowl until it gleamed in the firelight. Currently, the eager elf was vigorously wiping down Hagrid''s massive, perpetually greasy ck stove, its frail arms working tirelessly.

    "Stop, Fr¨¦odom!" Hermione shouted, her voice sharp with frustration and anger. The sudden outburst caused Fr¨¦odom to jump in fright, the cleaning cloth slipping from its long-fingered hands and falling to the floor with a soft plop.

    As Hermione rushed over, her face flushed with a mix of emotions, Hagrid tilted his shaggy head back, his eyes roaming around the cluttered interior of his one-room home. With a note of wistful regret in his voice, he said, "Ter tell yeh the truth, I could really do with a house-elf ''round here ter help keep things tidy. Why, just the other day, Professor Moody dropped by ter offer his services in patrollin'' the Forbidden Forest for me. Nice of him, really. But he also suggested, in that gruff way of his, that I might want ter consider givin'' the ce a bit of a spruce up¡ª"

    Fr¨¦odom, itsrge, tennis ball-sized eyes brimming with a mixture of confusion and distress, looked pleadingly at the visibly annoyed Hermione. The elf''s high-pitched, squeaky voice quavered as it exined, "Fr¨¦odom only wishes to help clean the house for Mistress Granger''s friend¡ª"

    The elf''s bat-like ears drooped sadly, as if it had been suddenly interrupted from partaking in a wonderful pleasure.

    Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows but remained silent, his dark eyes moving between the frustrated Hermione and the crestfallen house-elf. Hermione, who had clearly realized the thorny nature of the situation she found herself in, sat down heavily on a nearby wooden bench. She folded her arms tightly across her chest, her lips pressed into a thin line as she struggled to reconcile her ideals with the reality before her.

    To be perfectly honest, Harry didn''t much want to be dragged further into this troublesome affair. He hunched his shoulders and remained silent, hoping to avoid drawing attention to himself. But suddenly, a streak of vivid blue light shed outside the window, which was as dark as the depths of an abyss on this moonless night.

    Harry''s emerald eyes widened in surprise, and just as he was pondering what that mysterious light could possibly be, Ron, in a misguided attempt to diffuse the situation, piped up with what he clearly thought was a helpful suggestion. "I reckon my mum would be more than willin'' to take it in, Hermione, if you''re looking for a good home¡ª"

    "Absolutely not, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione exploded, her patience finally snapping like a stretched rubber band. Her eyes shed dangerously as she rounded on Ron. "I''d rather leave it here with Hagrid. At least then I can keep an eye on it and make sure it''s not mistreated!"

    Hermione''s chest heaved violently as she looked around the cramped hut, her gaze sweeping over the silent Hagrid, the slobbering boarhound Fang, and Harry and Ron, who were both visibly shrinking away from her outburst.

    Finally, her eyes came to rest on the nervous little Fr¨¦odom, who was wringing its hands anxiously. Suddenly, a wave of sadness washed over Hermione, She felt utterly isted and helpless. But if even her closest friends wouldn''t support her in this crucial mission, who else could she possibly turn to for help?

    The silence in Hagrid''s hut grew thick and oppressive, broken only by the asional crackle of the fire and Fang''s heavy breathing. The tension was palpable, seeming to press down on all of them like a physical weight. Then, without warning, Hermione''s voice rang out, shattering the awkward quiet.

    "Fine, I''ve made my decision!!" she dered, her toneced with determination and a hint of desperation. "I''m going to establish a Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare, and every single one of you is going to be a founding member of this organization whether you like it or not!"

    "What in the bloody hell?!" Ron''s exmation of disbelief burst forth involuntarily. "I never agreed to any of this madness!"

    But Hermione was not to be deterred. If anything, Ron''s protest only seemed to fuel her passion further. "Our immediate goals are!!!" she continued, raising her voice even louder to drown out any further objections from Ron or anyone else who might dare to challenge her vision. Her normally warm brown eyes now zed with an almost supernatural intensity, the pure orange-yellow of her pupils flickering like twin mes of righteousness. When she spoke again, it was in a tone that brooked absolutely no argument or refusal.

    "First and foremost, we must focus on recruiting more members into our organization. We need to build a strong, unified voice for change. Then, we''ll turn our attention to persuading the house-elves right here at Hogwarts to ept fair wages and reasonable holidays. I''ll personally go to Professor Watson and hold him to his promise. This will be our testing ground, where we can gain valuable experience and refine our methods. Once we''ve achieved sess here, we''ll use that as a springboard to spread our message throughout the entire wizarding world!"

    Hermione paused for breath, her eyes sweeping across the room to gauge the reactions of her audience.

    "But that''s just the beginning! Our ultimate goal ¨C and mark my words, we will achieve this ¨C is topel the Ministry of Magic to enactprehensive legition protecting the rights of house-elves. We won''t rest until everyst house-elf in Britain is afforded the dignity, respect, and legal protections they so richly deserve!"

    As Hermione''s impassioned speech came to an end, the expressions on the faces of Hagrid, Harry, and Ron made it abundantly clear that they thought she had well and truly lost her mind.

    In the end, after much debate and consideration on Hermione''s part, she eventually decided to leave Fr¨¦odom with Hagrid, the only person she truly trusted and who could provide her with the help she needed. In the previous school year, when Ron had mistakenly believed that Crookshanks, had killed his rat, Scabbers, she had also entrusted her pet to Hagrid''s care for a time. It had been a desperate measure to prevent her friendship with Ron frompletely disintegrating, and now she found herself in a simr position.

    However, she also set strict rules for both Hagrid and Fr¨¦odom. Her voice was firm as sheid out her conditions: she wouldn''t allow Hagrid to order Fr¨¦odom around like a servant, nor would she permit Fr¨¦odom to do anything other than y and rx while at Hagrid''s hut. She told them that she would try toe here every day to teach Fr¨¦odom the ''correct outlook on life.''

    As the trio made their way back to the castle under the cover of Harry''s Invisibility Cloak, Hermione''s mind was already racing ahead to her next steps. "I need to get started on creating the official guidelines and a specific action n for our society right away," she muttered, her words tumbling out in an excited rush. "We''ll need to have some sort of striking, eye-catching emblem or badge to distinguish our members from those who are still waiting to be persuaded to join our cause. After all, we might end up with a significant number of members very quickly¡ª"

    Ron made a strange coughing sound that sounded suspiciously like poorly disguised mockery, but Hermione either didn''t notice or chose to ignore it.

    "Harry," she continued, undeterred, "next Wednesday, we need to promote this during Professor Watson''s physical education ss. Professor Watson has already expressed his support for us." Her tone was confident, brooking no argument.

    Harry bit his lip, really wanting to remind Hermione how angry she had been with Professor Watson earlier today, and that the professor hadn''t actually agreed to anything she was now proposing. However, he held his tongue, knowing that in her current state of excitement, any attempt at reason would likely fall on deaf ears.

    The three of them walked quickly through the grounds into the shadow cast by Hogwarts Castle, their feet making soft squelching sounds on the damp grass. Harry and Ron were walking particrly fast, clearly eager to get away from Hermione and her impassioned nning as soon as possible.

    As they climbed the worn stone steps outside the castle''s imposing main doors, the soft glow of torchlight spilling out from within, Harry nearly tripped due to his hasty steps. His foot caught on the edge of a step, and he stumbled, barely managing to catch himself before falling.

    "Oh, do watch your step there, Potter¡ª"A hoarse, deep voice suddenly cut through the night air,ing from behind the massive, closed doors. In the quiet of the evening, this unexpected sound was like a thunderp, stunning the three of them into immobility.

    <em>''We''re done for¡ª''</em> This panicked thought simultaneously arose in the minds of Harry, Ron, and Hermione as Professor Moody''s limping figure stepped into the moonlight.

    "That''s a mighty fine Invisibility Cloak you''ve got there, whose is it?" Moody''s both normal eye and his vivid blue magical eye were focused closely on the spot where the three of them stood frozen, leaving Harry with no hope of slipping away undetected. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he had encountered the third wizard who could see through his Invisibility Cloak.

    "It''s mine, sir¡ª" Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper as he voluntarily pulled down the shimmering fabric. The three young wizards stood obediently outside the door like a trio of quails caught in the gaze of a hawk, enduring Moody''s prating scrutiny.

    "Normally," Moody began, his scarred face unreadable in the shadows, "shouldn''t you be exining to me why you''re wandering around the castle grounds at bedtime?" Unexpectedly, there wasn''t much anger in Professor Moody''s voice, which gave Harry a glimmer of hope that they might yet escape punishment.

    "It''s my fault, Professor Moody¡ª" Hermione stepped forward with a flushed face, no longer speaking in an overbearing tone. Lowering her gaze to avoid Moody''s intense stare, she fabricated an exnation on the spot. "I had an urgent question about st-Ended Skrewts that I simply had to ask Hagrid. Harry and Ron were worried I might encounter danger if I went alone at night, so they insisted on apanying me¡ª"

    Harry and Ron both frowned, their faces a picture of confusion as they opened their mouths to refute Hermione''s creative exnation. However, before they could utter a word, Hermione swiftly and secretly pinched the soft flesh at their waists making them hiss in pain.

    "I see¡ª" Moody''s gruff voice was tinged with an odd note of amusement as he continued to stare at Hermione''s face, "And you also brought a gift for Hagrid, didn''t you, Miss Granger? I must admit, you''re quite a noble young witch¡ª"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0488 Incidents

    0488 Incidents

    "I must admit, you are a noble young witch," Professor Moody''s deep voice echoed in the dim entrance hall. Hermione, caught off guard, turned pale, her flushed face draining of color. She stared nkly at Moody''s frightening blue eye, trembling slightly with fear.

    Beside her, Harry''s emerald eyes widened in sudden realization, his heart performing a spectacr acrobatic feat as it leapt into his throat. The memory of a fleeting blue light outside Hagrid''s hut earlier suddenly clicked into ce. His gaze darted between Moody''s normal eye and its magical matching part, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from his lips: "You were outside Hagrid''s window earlier!"

    "Very good, Potter," Moody made no attempt to deny it. He looked at Harry and growled with admiration in his voice. "You''re quite perceptive. I suppose there''s no point in denying it."

    He shifted his weight, his wooden leg making a dull thud against the stone floor. "When I was returning from my nightly patrol of the Forbidden Forest, I caught sight of three figures skulking towards Hagrid''s hut under an Invisibility Cloak. As a professor, I had no choice but to investigate, did I? After all, what if it had been three ill-intentioned dark wizards?"

    Harry''s mind raced, a silent protest forming in his thoughts. <em>''If you could see through the Invisibility Cloak, how could you not have known who we were?''</em>

    But he bit his tongue, instinctively sensing that challenging Moody''s lie might not be the wisest course of action.

    "Well then, Miss Granger," Professor Moody continued, his magical eye swiveling to focus intently on Hermione. Despite the gruffness of his tone, Harry could sense an undercurrent of... was it approval? He didn''t seem angry at all. If anything, he appeared almost pleased with their actions.

    "I must admit, you''ve surprised me," With a series of uneven thuds, Moody said making his way across the gstone floor, closing the distance between himself and Hermione. Though he wasn''t significantly taller than her, Hermione''s bowed head made him seem to loom over her like a weathered oak tree. His voice, when he spoke again, rasped like autumn leaves skittering across stone.

    "In my long and often dark career, I''ve encountered more rotten characters than I care to count. I''ve personally escorted many of them to the cold embrace of Azkaban''s cells." His magical eye ceased its constant movement, focusing withser-like intensity on the top of Hermione''s bowed head. "But never, in all my years, did I expect to find a young witch quite like you."

    Hermione''s chin lifted slightly, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and cautious hope as Moody continued. "You respect life, Miss Granger. Not just the lives of your fellow witches and wizards, but even those of the poor, often overlooked house-elves. You want to fight for their rights." A note of genuine admiration crept into Moody''s gravelly tones. "I can tell you with absolute certainty, there aren''t many so-called righteous wizards out there with hearts as pure and good as yours."

    Hermione''s face was full of conflicting emotions. She had steeled herself for a barrage of rebukes, her mind shing back to Moody''s harsh treatment of Malfoy when he had attempted to curse Harry. She had even harbored secret fears of ending up on the receiving end of one of Moody''s jinxes. Instead, here she stood, being showered with praise from one of the most scary wizards she had ever encountered. Strangely, this unexpected turn of events only served to intensify her feelings of shame and remorse.

    "I shouldn''t have lied to you, Professor Moody. I, I just¡ª" Hermione''s exnation was choked with tears, but before she could continue her stammered exnation, Moody cut her off with a wave of his gnarled hand.

    "No need to exin, Miss Granger," Moody said, his tone surprisingly gentle. "Nobody wants to face punishment, after all."

    With a deliberate movement, he stepped aside, leaving a clear path for the trio to make their leave. "But now, you lot really should make your way back to your dormitories. Watson sometimes wanders around the castle at night, and I''m not entirely certain he''d be as understanding as I''m being."

    Ron, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout the exchange, finally found his voice. "You''re letting us go?" he eximed, his freckled face a mask of shock and disbelief. "No points taken? No detention? You''re not going to tell Professor McGonagall about us sneaking out?"

    A sound that might have been augh ¨C ifughs could be this terrifying ¨C erupted from Moody''s throat. "If that''s what you''d prefer, Weasley!" he growled, his magical eye spinning wildly. "I''d be more than happy to oblige!"

    Not needing to be told twice, Harry, Ron, and Hermione fled up the grand staircase from the entrance hall, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous space as they ran as if their very lives depended on it. They remained blissfully unaware that Moody lingered in the shadowy hall, his mismatched eyes following their retreating forms with a deep, pensive gaze until they vanished from sight.

    Breathless and still reeling from their encounter, the trio finally reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Balderdash," Harry panted, and the portrait swung open to reveal the warmly lit Gryffindormon room.

    "I can''t believe he just let us off like that!" Ron eximed as they scrambled through the portrait hole, his voice still shaky with a mixture of relief and lingering fear. The crackling fire in the hearth cast a warm glow across the room, seeming to chase away some of the tension from their unexpected confrontation.

    "And that eye of his," Harry added, copsing into one of the overstuffed armchairs by the fire. "It can see through Invisibility Cloaks! I''ve never known anyone who could do that except Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson!"

    But Hermione, it seemed, had already moved past their narrow escape. Her eyes shone with renewed determination as she headed towards the girls'' dormitories. "I need to get back to the dormitory and start nning how we''re going to promote S.P.E.W.," she announced, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

    Ron gaped at her retreating form, his face a picture of disbelief. "Have you gonepletely mental?" he shouted after her, his voice rising in pitch. "That house-elf of yours nearly got us killed by Moody!"

    But Hermione was already bounding up the spiral staircase to the girls'' dormitory, either deaf to Ron''s protests or choosing to ignore them entirely. Her mind was clearly focused on the task ahead, undeterred by the evening''s close call.

    "She''s lost it, I tell you," Ron grumbled, turning to Harry with an exasperated expression. "When is she ever going to give it a rest?"

    Harry just shrugged, saying nothing. He knew all too well that once Hermione set her mind to something, there was little anyone could do to dissuade her.

    True to form, Hermione didn''t "give it a rest" as Ron had fervently hoped. Instead, she threw herself into her campaign with renewed vigor, putting her words into action with a determination that was both admirable and slightly terrifying.

    Over the next month or so, while life at Hogwarts continued in its usual magical fashion ¨C with sses, homework, and the asional mishap in Potions ¨C the most notable urrence was the rise of Hermione Granger''s S.P.E.W. (Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare).

    Since that night of their encounter with Moody, Hermione''s passion for house-elf rights had only intensified. Though she no longer visited Hagrid''s hut on a daily basis, she still managed to drag Harry and Ron along whenever she could spare the time, apparently to check on Fr¨¦odom''s progress.

    Harry and Ron found themselves unwilling witnesses to the house-elf''s remarkable growth rate. In just over a month, Fr¨¦odom had undergone a startling transformation. From being barelyrger than a garden gnome when they first encountered him, the young house-elf had shot up to stand almost eye-to-eye with Dobby.

    Hermione''s attempts to teach Fr¨¦odom the ''art of rxation'' and ''leisure-life'' proved to be futile. Her orders forbidding Fr¨¦odom from tending to Hagrid''s housework fell on determinedly deaf ears. For Fr¨¦odom, it seemed, the very act of working was his form of rest and enjoyment. The concept of idleness was as foreign to him as advanced arithmancy would be to a flobberworm.

    The impact of Fr¨¦odom''s presence on Hagrid''s humble abode was nothing short of miraculous. The cabin which had always been gloomy and filled with the smells of various magical creatures (except on the sunniest days), had undergone a remarkable metamorphosis since the house-elf had taken up residence. Where before the windows had been smeared with a film of grime, allowing only the barest hint of sunlight to filter through, they now sparkled like cut crystal, flooding the interior with warm, natural light.

    The ancient wooden floorboards, which had creaked and groaned under the weight of countless footsteps over the years, now gleamed with a soft, honeyed luster. Every surface in the cabin seemed to have been scrubbed clean.

    The old iron stove, which had faithfully served Hagrid for nearly half a century, had been transformed from a grease-spattered relic into a gleaming centerpiece. Its surface now reflected the dancing mes of the hearth, adding an extrayer of warmth to the cozy interior.

    Hagrid''s bed, which had always seemed slightly damp and musty no matter how often the linens were changed, now had crisp, fresh bedding that smelled faintly ofvender and sunshine. Even Fang, Hagrid''s enormous boarhound, had benefited from Fr¨¦odom''s attentions. The dog''s usually matted ck coat now shone with a healthy gleam, and he seemed to carry himself with a newfound dignity.

    But Fr¨¦odom''s industriousness didn''t stop at the cabin''s threshold. Under cover of darkness, while Hagrid''s thunderous snores shook the rafters, the tireless house-elf would slip out to tend to the vegetable patch. With nimble fingers, he would pluck out weeds, gently remove harmful insects, and ensure that each nt received just the right amount of water. As a result, Hagrid''s pumpkins grew to record-breaking sizes, and his herbs flourished with unprecedented vigor.

    In short, Fr¨¦odom had managed to bring order and cleanliness to every aspect of Hagrid''s life ¨C with the notable exception of the st-Ended Skrewts, which remained as chaotic and unpredictable as ever. Even a house-elf''s magic, it seemed, had its limits when it came to Hagrid''s more exotic pets.

    As the weeks passed, Hermione''s frustration with Fr¨¦odom''s relentless work ethic reached a boiling point. One crisp autumn afternoon, as golden leaves swirled around their ankles on the path to Hagrid''s hut, she announced her intention to smuggle the house-elf back to the castle and keep him hidden.

    Hagrid''s reaction was immediate and heartfelt. "Just leave ''im ''ere with me, Hermione," he pleaded, his beetle-ck eyes widening pleadingly. His massive hands, each the size of a dustbin lid, sped together as if in prayer. "I promise I''ll teach Fr¨¦odom ''ow to enjoy life!" The sincerity in his voice was palpable, tinged with a hint of desperation at the thought of losing his diligent little helper.

    Despite Hagrid''s impassioned plea, Hermione remained resolute. With abination of wit and sheer determination, she managed to take Fr¨¦odom away to Gryffindor Tower, hiding him in an unused chest of drawers in a quiet corner of themon room. Her n, however well-intentioned, was doomed from the start.

    Within just two days, themon room had undergone a transformation that rivaled that of Hagrid''s hut. The worn stone floor now gleamed with such a high polish that students could see their reflections in it, leading to more than one near-miss as distracted first-years admired their shoes while walking.

    But it was the inexplicable appearance of freshlyundered and neatly folded undergarments on the girls'' bedsides that finally unfastened Hermione''s scheme. These were items that the students never sent to the schoolundry, preferring to handle such personal things themselves. The sudden and mysterious cleaning of these sent ripples of confusion and rm through her fellow housemates.

    Lavender her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation, had shrieked that she was going to report this bizarre urrence to Professor McGonagall. It had taken all of Hermione''s considerable powers of persuasion ¨C and a fair few hastily concocted excuses ¨C to stall her roommate''s march to their Head of House''s office.

    Realizing the unsustainable nature of her n, Hermione had no choice but to return Fr¨¦odom to Hagrid''s now-chaotic hut. The brief absence of the house-elf had allowed Hagrid''s natural lifestyle to reassert itself, and the contrast between the cabin''s current state and its former cleanliness was stark.

    Meanwhile, Hermione''s Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare faced an uphill battle in gaining widespread support among the student body. Undeterred by the lukewarm reception, Hermione seized every opportunity to spread her message, including during Professor Watson''s physical education sses.

    One particrly memorable incident urred while the ss was lined up, practicing their dodging techniques. Hermione took advantage of the captive audience tounch into an impassioned lecture about the unfair treatment of house-elves.

    The Slytherins, predictably, had a field day mocking her about this impromptu speech. Pansy Parkinson''s shrill voice cut through the air like a knife, dripping with malice. "Have you seen yourself in those little creatures, Granger?" she jeered, her pug-like face contorted in a sneer. "Is that why you''re so obsessed with them? Finally found your own kind, have you?"

    But Hermione remained resolute, clutching her collection tin for membership fees with white-knuckled determination. She moved through the crowd of students; her chin held high despite the mockingughter that followed in her trail. When she approached Ernie Macmin, her voice took on a coaxing tone as she tried to persuade her to join the society.

    It wasn''t that Hermione''s efforts were entirely in vain. A small but dedicated group of students had indeed joined her cause.

    Ginny had been one of the first to sign up. Luna had also enthusiastically joined, specting that house-elves might be distant rtives of the elusive Blibbering Humdinger. Hannah, her round face flushed withpassion, had also paid the two Sickle membership fee as her Hufflepuff sense of fairness was stirred by Hermione''s impassioned pleas.

    Cho Chang, much to Harry''s barely concealed delight, had also be a member of S.P.E.W. However, the circumstances of her joining were somewhat less than ideal. Harry, in a moment of nervous bravery, had personally invited her to join the society. The memory of Cho''s bewildered expression when she first heard about S.P.E.W. still made Harry cringe inwardly. Her dark eyes had widened in confusion as she tilted her head, trying to make sense of the concept. In the end, Harry strongly suspected she had only joined to save face.

    Perhaps the most surprising supporter of Hermione''s campaign was Professor Watson himself. He had made a ''generous'' contribution of ten Galleons to the cause. Moreover, he had not prevented Hermione from carrying on with her campaign during his sses, a fact that did not go unnoticed by the other students.

    Harry, recalling Hagrid''s words about Professor Watson being a truly remarkable wizard, felt a surge of admiration for the man. It wasn''t just Professor Watson''s undeniable magical prowess that set him apart, but his willingness to support a cause that many others dismissed or ridiculed. In Harry''s eyes, this quiet endorsement of Hermione''s efforts spoke volumes about their professor''s character.

    As October wore on, the castle grounds transformed into a drapery of autumnal hues. The Forbidden Forest became a riot of reds, golds, and deep burgundies, its usual unfriendly characteristic softened by the season''s beauty. The ck Lake reflected the changing colors of the sky, its surface rippling with the crisp breeze that heralded the approach of winter.

    It was on one such picturesquete October evening, during Professor Watson''s physical education ss, that a new situation arose.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0489 Progress & Situation

    0489 Progress & Situation

    As the sun dipped below the horizon on thatte October evening, the temperature plummeted with rming swiftness, causing an involuntary shiver to ripple through anyone unfortunate enough to be caught outside. The air grew heavy with moisture, and a thick, ghostly mist began to rise from the inky depths of the ck Lake. Like phantom tendrils, it crept across the sprawling grounds of Hogsmeade vige and the Hogwarts castle, enveloping everything in its path with an eerie, ethereal shroud.

    The ancient stone walls of Hogwarts loomed against the darkening sky, their weathered surfaces disappearing into the encroaching fog. From a distance, the castle appeared neglected and abandoned, its windows dark and lifeless, except for a few flickering lights that hinted at the magic and life contained within.

    Yet, despite the somber atmosphere outside, within the walls of the physical education ssroom, an entirely different scene was unfolding. The room buzzed with energy and excitement, a stark contrast to the gloomy world beyond its walls.

    Young wizards, their faces flushed with exertion and determination, moved about the space with purpose and vigor. They had shed their usual school robes, which nowy in haphazard piles against the walls, forgotten in the heat of their magical exercises.

    With sleeves rolled up to their elbows, exposing forearms that were beginning to show the first signs of toning from their rigorous training, the students waved their wands with newfound confidence. Each of them was focused intently on their assigned suit of armor, their targets standing stoically as spell after spell was hurled in their direction.

    The change in these young witches and wizards over the past month was nothing short of remarkable. Gone were the awkward, hesitant movements of novices; in their ce stood budding magical warriors. Their postures had straightened, shoulders set with determination, and eyes gleaming with a mix of concentration and growing self-assurance. Even the way they carried themselves between spells spoke volumes about their progress ¨C more efficient in their movements, less prone to distraction, and emanating an air ofposure that contradicted their youth.

    Bryan paced among the students with unhurried steps, his hands sped behind his back with pride. His keen eyes missed nothing as he observed each student in turn, noting their improvements and mentally cataloging areas that still needed work.

    The focus of their training remained on dueling-type spells, but the context had shifted significantly. No longer were they practicing in the safety of Bryan''s Spiritual world that had served as their training ground in the early days.

    Now, having mastered the basics ofbat-oriented magic, they had graduated to practicing in the real world. This transition was crucial, as Bryan knew all too well that the subtle nuances between casting in a magical construct and the physical realm could mean the difference between victory and defeat in a real confrontation.

    Suddenly, a streak of brilliant red light, as thick as a man''s thumb, whizzed past Bryan''s ear. The spell cut through the air with a high-pitched whistle, leaving a faint trail of sparks in its wake. Time seemed to slow as Bryan watched as it precisely struck its target ¨C a suit of armor standing some thirty feet away.

    The moment of impact was spectacr. With a resounding ng that echoed through the room, the spear clutched in the armor''s gauntlet was violently wrenched free. It spun through the air, end over end, arcing back towards its caster in a disy of magical mastery that would have been dangerous were it not so precisely controlled.

    But the disarming effect was only the beginning. Before the armor could react, a second spell followed with equal precision. This time, a sh of bright red light¡ªthe unmistakable hue of *Stupefy*¡ªhit the suit of armor dead-on. The enchanted metal froze in ce, rendered immobile by the stunning force.

    Bryan''s eyes flickered to the source of this impressive disy ¨C Harry standing calmly with his wand raised. What made this demonstration all the more remarkable was theplete silence with which it had been executed. A nonverbal Disarming Charm, augmented with a Stunning Charm''s stun effect.

    Not far from Harry, Hermione was engaged in her own magical duel with an enchanted suit of armor. Her approach was noticeably different from Harry''s, showcasing a diverse repertoire of spells that yed to her intellectual strengths. Where Harry relied on raw talent and instinct, Hermione''s movements were more calcted, each flick and swish of her wand precise and thoughtful.

    She danced around her opponent, unleashing a barrage of different offensive spells in quick session. A jet of purple mes here, a shower of acidic green sparks there ¨C each spell chosen with careful consideration of its effects and potentialbinations. However, the rtively short training period meant that not every incantation could be cast nonverbally yet. asionally, a whispered word or phrase would escape her lips.

    A series of menacing hisses drew Bryan''s attention to another corner of the room. There, Draco stood with his wand extended, a look of fierce concentration on his pale, pointed face. From the tip of his wand, several pitch-ck pythons materialized, each as thick as a man''s forearm. They dropped to the stone floor with a soft thud, immediately rearing up to face the nearby suit of armor. Their forked tongues flicked out, tasting the air, as their eyes gleamed with an unnatural, cold light.

    With a subtle motion of Draco''s wand, the serpents sprang into action. They moved with uncanny speed and grace, slithering across the floor in a pattern that seemed almost choreographed. In few moments, they had surrounded the armor, approaching it from multiple angles to cut off any potential escape.

    As one, the snakesunched themselves at the metal figure. They coiled around its limbs and torso with frightening strength, their muscles rippling beneath glossy ck scales. The sound of straining metal filled the air as the armor began to buckle and warp under the relentless constriction.

    But the physical damage was only the beginning. Where the snakes'' fangs made contact with the armor''s shoulders, a noxious ck smoke began to rise. The acrid scent of corrosion filled the air as the once gleaming bronze rapidly bleached to a sickly white before beginning to rot away entirely.

    Seeing this, Draco bared his teeth in an excited grin. Instinctively, he sought out Harry, perhaps hoping to gauge his reaction to this show of magical prowess. Instead, his eyes met those of Bryan. The triumphant expression faltered for a moment before Draco quickly ducked his head, suddenly very interested in dealing with the self-repairing charm on his now distorted suit of armor.

    Bryan continued his circuit of the room, pausing to observe each student in turn. He watched as Ginny conjured a veritable flood of bats from the end of her wand. The chittering cloud of winged creatures swarmed around her chosen target, their tiny ws and teeth wreaking havoc on the metal surface. The sudden appearance of the bats startled Finch-Fletchley, who was practicing nearby, causing him to yelp and nearly drop his wand.

    A few paces away, Luna presented a stark contrast to the frenzied energy around her. The small, blonde witch moved with an almost otherworldly grace, her movements more akin to an intricate dance than traditional spellcasting. As she waved her wand in elegant arcs, a stream of colorful, note-like objects flowed from its tip that effortlessly tore through her assigned armor as if it were made of parchment rather than metal.

    Bryan''s gaze swept over the other students ¨C Cedric Diggory, his face set in determination as he rapid-fired hexes at his target; Theodore Nott, whose quiet intensity contradicted the devastating effects of his carefully chosen curses; ise Zabini, moving with catlike grace as he wove aplex web of interconnected spells around his armor. Each young wizard had found their own rhythm, their own style of magicalbat that suited their personalities and strengths.

    As Bryanpleted his circuit of the room, his eyes fell upon Neville, and his brow furrowed slightly. He was tucking away in a corner, his face red with exertion and frustration as he struggled with even the most basic of spells.

    Compared to his excellent physical aptitude and crisis response, Neville''s spell-casting was almost unbearable to watch. Bryan''s frown deepened as he considered the problem. It wasn''t that Neville couldn''t recite the incantations correctly or that his wand movements were improper. The issuey in his control over magical power ¨C or rather, hisck thereof. Even Bryan''s newly developed magical training methods couldn''t help him with this.

    Unlike Harry, who could instinctively chain the power of his Disarming Charm with a Stunning Spell or other spells, or Hermione, whose excellent concentration allowed her to master a wide variety of spells, Neville still struggled with the most basic of attack spells. Because of this, Neville had lost almost all the confidence he had painstakingly built up in this ss.

    A quiet sigh escaped Bryan''s lips as he watched Neville''stest attempt fizzle out harmlessly a foot from his wand tip. The situation was bing unbearable. At this rate, it was only a matter of time before Neville gave up entirely, crushed under the weight of his perceived inadequacy, but Bryan didn''t want to abandon any young wizard who had persevered in training until now. He didn''t want to give up on a single one.

    <em>''But how to help Neville find his path to improvement?''</em> It was a question that gave Bryan headache, his brow furrowing deeper as he pondered. This wasn''t a problem that could be solved with a quick fix or a simple encouragement.

    Lost in thought, Bryan almost missed the time. Catching himself, he raised his hands and gave two sharp ps. The sound cut through the cacophony of spellcasting like a knife, immediately drawing the attention of every student in the room.

    As if choreographed, the young wizards ceased their activities and began to gather in front of Bryan. They moved with purpose, quickly arranging themselves by house in neat lines. The discipline they disyed was impressive, a far cry from the chaotic assemblies of just a few weeks prior.

    Every pair of eyes was fixed on Bryan, their gazes a mix of exhaustion, exhration, and deep respect. The Slytherins, in particr, stared at him with an intensity that bordered on fanaticism.

    The rules Professor Watson hadid down at the beginning of their training were clear ¨C no boasting about their progress (this was an unspoken rule among them), no inter-house confrontations. But even without words, each student was acutely aware of how far they hade in the past month and a half.

    "Today''s training ends here," Bryan announced, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The simple statement was met with a collective exhtion, a mix of relief and satisfaction rippling through the gathered students.

    Hermione reached up to wipe a bead of sweat from her forehead, her eyes already darting around the group. It was clear she was mentally selecting today''s target for her S.P.E.W public rtions campaign, while Harry inconspicuously moved a bit further from Hermione.

    "Before you leave," Bryan continued, his tone shifting slightly to indicate he had something important to say, "I have some news to share with you in advance. The school was nning to announce this on Friday, but I believe the students in the physical education ss deserve some... privileges."

    At these words, the young wizards straightened their spines, chests puffing out with pride even as their eyes widened in anticipation.

    "At the beginning of this term, during the Sorting Ceremony, I already told you that the Triwizard Tournament would be held this year," Bryan began, his voice measured and calm. "The other two schools, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, will arrive at Hogwarts next Friday. For the rest of this school year, the champion candidates from these two schools will live and study alongside you."

    <strong>Boom--</strong>

    The effect of this announcement was immediate and electric. It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck the center of the room, sending shockwaves of excitement through the assembled students. The previously orderly lines dissolved as friends turned to each other, voices rising in a cacophony of excited chatter.

    After all, they were a group of young wizards who loved excitement. Upon hearing this news, they could no longer contain themselves and began to discuss it enthusiastically with their friends.

    "Professor Watson!" Cedric''s voice cut through the noise, his hand raised high as he asked, "But the school hasn''t announced the champion selection rules yet!"

    "I will announce them in the Great Hall when our guests arrive. For now, this is still confidential." His words were met with a collective groan of disappointment.

    "What about the tournament tasks, Professor Watson?" This time it was Fred who spoke up. "Is the school still not allowing underage students to participate?"

    "I''m afraid so," Bryan replied with a smile. "As for the tasks to be performed in the tournament..." He spread his hands in a gesture of innocence, his expression one of exaggerated helplessness.

    "I don''t know. The tasks are decided by the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Games and Sports. To ensure fairness, they won''t disclose this information to the three participating schools in advance. This is strictly confidential."

    Another wave of sighs and muttered disappointments swept through the room.

    "Alright," Bryan said, pping his hands once more to regain their attention. "I''m telling you this news to allow those aspiring topete for the champion position to prepare mentally in advance. Although I shouldn''t show favoritism," a twinkle appeared in his eye as he said this, "I still hope that the young wizard representing Hogwarts will be one of you. If it''s not one of you, I would feel..."

    But before Bryan could finish speaking his thoughts, a sudden, heavy impact sounded from outside the curtained window. The noise was so unexpected and powerful that it caused several students to jump, their wands instinctively raising in a defensive posture. The abrupt interruption shattered the anticipatory atmosphere that had built up around Bryan''s words.

    Simultaneously, the young wizards turned their attention to the source of the disturbance. Through the heavy velvet curtains that decorated the ssroom windows, they could make out a frantic fluttering sound. It was a familiar noise to anyone who had spent time in the wizarding world - the sound of an owl''s wings beating against ss.

    However, this was probably no ordinary mail delivery. The hour waste, well past the time when owls typically arrived with messages or parcels. The Great Hall during breakfast was the usual setting for such arrivals. An owl seeking entry at this hour, with such urgency, was highly unusual and immediately piqued everyone''s curiosity.

    Bryan''s eyebrow arched slightly. He crossed the room to the window, the students parting before him like water around a stone. As he drew back the curtain, the owl came into full view.

    It was a fine-looking brown owl. However, a closer look exposed that its feathers were damp with dew, probably due to a long and hurried flight through the misty night air. The bird''s amber eyes were wide and alert, filled with an almost human-like urgency. In its beak, it clutched a roll of parchment, gripping it so tightly that the edges were slightly crumpled.

    With a smooth motion of his wand, Bryan utched the window and swung it open. A gust of cold, damp air rushed into the room, causing several students to shiver and pull their robes tighter around themselves. The owl didn''t wait for an invitation. As soon as the opening was wide enough, it swooped into the room, wings spread wide to slow its flight.

    The bird made a beeline for Bryan, hovering before him with an impatient flutter of its wings. Bryan carefully extracted the parchment from its beak as he took a moment to gently pat the bird''s head.

    The room had fallen into an expectant hush. Even the usual whispers and fidgeting that apanied any gathering of students had ceased. All eyes were fixed on Bryan as he unrolled the parchment, holding it close to the light of a nearby wall torch to read its contents.

    The silence stretched on.

    In the tense silence, Harry leaned closer to Hermione, his voice barely above a whisper. "What''s going on?" he murmured, his green eyes darting between Professor Watson''s now solemn face and the parchment in his hands. "Has anything happened recently? Did the Daily Prophet say anything?"

    Hermione''s brow creased in thought, her mind no doubt racing through recent events and news articles. After a moment''s hesitation, she gave a small shake of her head. "No, Harry," she whispered back, her voice tinged with confusion.

    Their hushed exchange was cut short as Bryan finally looked up from the parchment. He folded the parchment and tucked it into an inner pocket of his robes before addressing the ss.

    "This Friday''s physical education ss will be supervised by Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood,"

    Bryan continued without pause, "There''s an urgent matter I need to attend to, and I''ll be leaving Hogwarts for a few days."

    With these words, Bryan strode out of the ssroom, leaving behind a group of confused young wizards standing in ce, looking at each other in bewilderment.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0490 Him

    0490 Him

    After leaving a group of confused young wizards in the physical education ssroom, Bryan''s face immediately became calm. A sh of lightning-like gleam passed through his pale purple eyes as he strode through the castle corridors towards the tower that housed Dumbledore''s office.

    Just as he stepped onto the walkway connecting to the small tower, Bryan''s expression changed slightly, and he suddenly took a few steps back.

    As soon as his feet touched the ground, a burst of dazzling fire exploded in the dim, gloomy air before him. When the explosive mes dissipated, a serious-looking Dumbledore and Fawkes suddenly appeared in front of him.

    "Bryan¡ª"

    Dumbledore stepped out of the lingering embers. The cor beneath his long, silvery-white beard was a bit disheveled, clearly having hastily changed clothes after receiving the news.

    "You''ve received the message, haven''t you?" Dumbledore inquired, his tone solemn.

    Bryan nodded slightly.

    "Sirius sent me a letter, detailing the gist of what had happened. He also mentioned that Kingsley had already briefed you on--"

    Dumbledore didn''t wait for Bryan to finish, the urgency of the situationpelling him to interject.

    "Remus has been taken into custody by Scrimgeour and is currently being held by the Auror Office," he exined, the words tumbling out with uncharacteristic haste. "Kingsley managed to secure a position guarding Remus alongside Dawlish to prevent them from using any... unofficial interrogation methods. Under normal circumstances, a case of this nature would fall under Amelia''s jurisdiction. However,"

    He paused, his brow furrowing deeply, "this particr matter came as a direct order from Cornelius himself. I have no doubt that Scrimgeour will inform Cornelius immediately. We must formte a proper response before the situation esctes further, otherwise..."

    The vast sky was filled with darkness as Dumbledore and Bryan, enveloped by Fawkes'' radiance, rapidly exchanged opinions.

    Dumbledore fell silent for a moment, his breath held as he concentrated intensely. Bryan studied Dumbledore''s face, noting the deep lines of worry there. It had been a long time since he had seen Dumbledore wear such an expression of grave concern.

    "¡ªI fear," Dumbledore finally said, his voice barely above a whisper, "that Remus might be sent to Azkaban."

    Bryan said calmly, "Remus was acting under my instructions, I won''t allow him to suffer the same fate as Sirius."

    "I came to find you precisely for this matter," Bryan continued, his gaze locked with Dumbledore''s. "I hope you''ll let me handle this situation personally." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "No matter how you look at it, Fudge owes me a favor. He surely doesn''t believe that merely sending Sirius to the Auror Office is sufficient to repay the favor from the night of the Quidditch final."

    Bryan''s lips quirked in a humorless smile as he continued, "However, if we both be involved in this matter, it will ce an enormous amount of pressure on Fudge. It might cause him to lose what little psychological fortitude he has left. An irrational Minister of Magic would onlyplicate matters further and cause us a lot of trouble."

    Dumbledore''s eyebrows rose slightly, clearly taken aback by Bryan''s insightful analysis.

    "You''ve already figured Cornelius out quite well, Bryan¡ª" He hadn''t anticipated Bryan''s request for him to stay out of the matter, but after a moment of deep contemtion, he had to admit that Bryan''s proposal made sense. After a moment''s hesitation, Dumbledore asked cautiously,

    "Are you absolutely certain you can handle this matter... properly, Bryan?"

    Dumbledore emphasized the word ''properly'', obviously concerned not just about whether Bryan could get Remus out, but also that the methods shouldn''t be too aggressive, lest they tear down the Ministry.

    "You don''t need to worry¡ª" Bryan responded with a calm nod, his confidence unwavering. "I assure you, neither Remus nor the Ministry wille to any harm."

    Dumbledore''s piercing blue eyes studied Bryan intently, searching for any sign of doubt or recklessness. Finding none, he finally acquiesced to the Bryan''s request. "I''ll lend you Fawkes, Bryan¡ª"

    Though Dumbledore harbored reservations about Bryan''s im that ''there won''t be any problems,'' he recognized that Bryan''s involvement in this delicate situation was indeed more appropriate. With a slight sigh that spoke volumes of the burden he carried; Dumbledore finally agreed to Bryan''s n. He nced at Fawkes hovering above and said to Bryan,

    "The most crucial task at present is to buy time. Fawkes can assist you in that¡ª"

    "Thank you¡ª" Bryan epted without hesitation. With a brief "Wait for my news," he stepped closer to Fawkes. In a brilliant explosion of fire that momentarily illuminated the entire walkway, Bryan and the phoenix vanished, leaving behind only a lingering warmth in the air and a few gently floating feathers.

    Dumbledore found himself alone on the storm-battered walkway, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he gazed out at the increasingly turbulent sky beyond the castle walls.

    <strong>London, Diagon Alley.</strong>

    In the heart of London, Diagon Alley pulsed with nightly energy. The famous wizarding street, far from settling into slumber as night fell, seemed to take on a life of its own after dark. While many of the local witches and wizards had retired to their homes, the vacuum left by their absence was quickly filled by foreign magical tourists, eager to experience the unique nighttime setting of Britain''s most renowned magical shopping district.

    The cobblestone streets gleamed with an otherworldly luster under the flickering light of enchanted streetmps. Thesemps, their ss panes etched with intricate runes, cast a warm, golden glow that danced across the facades of the surrounding shops, creating an atmosphere that was both mysterious and inviting.

    Iconic establishments like Ollivanders, where countless young witches and wizards had found their perfect wands, remained a hive of activity. Through its dust-streaked windows, one could see Mr. Ollivander himself, his wild white hair illuminated by wandlight as he passionately exined the workings of wandlore to a group of awestruck tourists.

    Not far from Ollivanders, Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop was thriving withughter and the asional startled yelp. Tourists and mischief-makers crowded the store, testing out thetest magical pranks and gags. Every few minutes, a burst of confetti or a cloud of multicolored smoke would erupt from the shop''s entrance, apanied by peals of delightedughter.

    Eeylops Owl Emporium, usually quieter during daylight hours, had be active with the nocturnal energy of its residents. The soft hooting of dozens of owls created a soothing backdrop to the bustling street, with assional screech of a particrly excitable bird. Wizards from far-flung corners of the globe marveled at the variety of magical postal birds, from the tiny Scops owls to the majestic Eagle owls.

    Yet, amidst this tapestry of magicalmerce and tourism, another, more utilitarian side of Diagon Alley was equally abuzz with activity. The train station, a node of magical transportation often overlooked by casual visitors, was a hive of activity as the shipments arrived.

    The rhythmic chug of a magical train grew louder as it approached from the misty horizon. With a screech of brakes and a great billowing of steam, the train ground to a halt at the tform. No sooner had it stopped than the cargo doors flew open, spewing a veritable army of workers who had been anxiously awaiting its arrival.

    Workers, their robes bearing the insignia of various magical shippingpanies, swarmed the train with practiced efficiency. Wands at the ready, they began unloading. Some used levitation charms to gently float delicate packages to waiting carts, while others employed more robust magic to maneuver heavier crates.

    The air was thick with the mingled scents of exotic ingredients and raw materials. Whiffs of dragon scales, essence of moonflower, and powdered unicorn horn mixed with more mundane smells of wood and metal.

    Overseeing this controlled chaos were rows of stern-faced wizards positioned at regr intervals along both sides of the railway. Their wands were held at the ready, and their eyes constantly scanned the crowded tform, alert for any sign of trouble. These weren''t ordinary security guards ¨C the emblems embroidered on their robes marked them as representatives of some of the most influential magical families and corporations in the wizarding world.

    Their presence was a testament to the value of the cargo being unloaded. These raw materials were the lifeblood of the magical goods industry, their exactpositions closely guarded trade secrets. Many of these ingredients were rare, expensive, and potentially dangerous in the wrong hands.

    Under the watchful eyes of these guards and the repeated urgings of foremen, the efficiency of the workers reached fever pitch. Within just over an hour ¨C a feat that would have been impossible without magic ¨C all of the raw materials had been transferred from the train to an impressive array of horse-drawn carts.

    These weren''t ordinary horse-drawn carts, of course. The carts they were hitched to were equally extraordinary, their wooden frames inscribed with protective runes and their interiors clearly enhanced with undetectable extension charms.

    As thest of the cargo was secured, a special freight passage opened up in the station wall. It was as if the very bricks had rearranged themselves, forming an archwayrge enough to amodate the caravan of carts. The magical horses, sensing their cue, began to form an orderly queue, snorting hot breath that momentarily obscured them in clouds of steam.

    This was the moment of greatest vulnerability ¨C the transition from the heavily guarded tform to the open streets of Diagon Alley. The supervising wizards hurriedly found their assigned carts, leaping onto the roofs with a grace that spoke of long practice. From these elevated positions, they would escort the precious cargo to its final destination.

    In the brief moment of organized chaos that ensued, as carts began to move and guards settled into position, no one noticed a shadow detach itself from a darkened corner of the tform. Taking advantage of a bank of clouds that had chosen that moment to obscure the moon, this shadowy figure silently slipped beneath the chassis of one of the carts.

    As the caravan of carts departed the station, they revealed the true scope of Diagon Alley to be far greater than most visitors ever realized. Beyond the main shopping streety aplex and vast cluster of buildings that formed the beating heart of Britain''s magical industry.

    The main road soon gave way to abyrinth of narrower streets and alleyways. About half a mile from the bustling market area, the caravan began to disperse. Individual carts peeled off down different routes, each guarded by their assigned wizard, using the cover of night to make their way to various hidden factories scattered throughout the district.

    The rhythmic sound of wooden wheels grinding against cobblestones filled the air. The carts swayed gently as they navigated the uneven streets, and more than one of the alert guards found themselves stifling yawns as the journey wore on. Thebination of thete hour, the repetitive motion, and the aftermath of the adrenaline rush from the loading process was taking its toll.

    Yet, beneath one of the carts, clinging to the undercarriage with grim determination, the shadowy figure remained ever vignt.

    For what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality about an hour, the carts looped their way through the maze-like alleys of Diagon Alley''s industrial district. Finally, almost imperceptibly at first, they began to slow.

    To the untrained eye, or indeed to any witch or wizard not privy to certain secrets, the area they had entered would have appeared to be nothing more than another crowded cluster of dpidated buildings. But reality, as is often the case in the wizarding world, was far different from appearance.

    Hidden by powerful magic, a spacious factoryplexy nestled in the heart of what appeared to be a jumble of run-down structures. This concealed industrial area was a testament to the ingenuity of wizarding architects and the potency of concealment charms. From above, one would see nothing but crowded rooftops and twisting chimneys. Yet at ground level, for those who knew where to look, an expansive factory grounds materialized out of thin air.

    The caravan of carts came to a halt before an imposing iron gate. This entrance stood in stark contrast to the illusion of decay that surrounded it, its majesty even rivaling that of Hogwarts'' own gates.

    As the carts settled into position, the supervising wizards on each vehicle leapt down. Their wands were at the ready, eyes scanning their surroundings with heightened alertness. The journey might be nearly over, but they knew all too well that the final moments before securing the cargo were often the most dangerous.

    A person who seemed to be a foreman brieflymunicated with a group of security wizards waiting at the gate, reporting the situation during the escort. Although nothing had happened, the security-wizards guarding the gate didn''t rx their vignce. They started checking the carts one by one, beginning with the one at the front.

    The inspection was very thorough. They would open the carriage, enter the space that had been magically erged many times, and check for any hidden personnel. Of course, they wouldn''t overlook the bottom of the carts either.

    A security wizard guarding the factory came to the cart where the intruder was hiding. He routinely searched the carriage, and finding nothing, he bent down and squinted to examine the chassis. His sharp gaze didn''t miss any detail, but the uneven bottom waspletely visible with no issues. So, the inspecting wizard passed this cart and moved on to check the next one. However, he overlooked that when he straightened up and breathed heavily, there was an extremely faint exhtion mixed in.

    With a series of nods exchanged between the security team, foreman, and escort wizards, the all-clear was given.

    The inspection waspleted, and with the creaking sound of opening gates, the caravan that had been waiting for a long time set off again.

    The caravan passed through the gates. The carts traveled along a wide, smooth road that made its way through thepound. To one side stood an immense workshop building, its architecture a blend of Victorian industrial style and unmistakably magical elements. On the other side of the road, in stark contrast to the aged workshop, stood a newly constructed office building.

    As the carts approached their final destination ¨C arge unloading area near the workshop ¨C a flurry of activity erupted. Another group of workers, different from those at the train station, emerged from various doors and passageways. They took up positions around the unloading area, ready to begin the process of transferring the valuable cargo from the carts to the safety of the workshop.

    The hidden intruder knew that this was the moment of truth. As the cart passed a carefully manicured cluster of bushes the figure made its move. Taking advantage of another cloud covering the moonlight and the momentary distraction of the escort wizards as they prepared for unloading, the intruder slipped from beneath the cart and into the bushes.

    From this new vantage point, hidden from sight but with a clear view of the unfolding scene, the intruder took looked at the surroundings. The quiet factory grounds had erupted into a hive of activity. Shouts andmands rang out as workers began unloading, their wands shing as they levitated crates and guided them towards the open doors of the workshop.

    But the intruder withdrew his gaze from this bustle and turned to look at the office building where a few lights were on. At that moment, the thick clouds in the sky happened to part, and clear moonlight shone on the office building.

    <strong>Floo-Pow</strong>

    The huge, dark golden namete glittered in the moonlight.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0491 Vigil

    0491 Vigil

    As night fell, a luminous full moon casted its ethereal glow upon the earth, bathing thendscape in a silvery luster.

    In the towering office building lights flickered and dimmed one by one as who had worked all day dragged their tired bodies into the elevators. As they descended to the ground floor, the lobby, once a bustling hub of activity, now stood nearly empty. Its marble floors gleamed under the soft light of enchantedmps, reflecting the tired faces of those queuing up before the firece.

    The entireplex was a marvel of magical engineering and security. Towering walls surrounded the premises, their smooth surfaces divulging no hint of the powerful wards and enchantments woven into them. Anti-Apparition spells nketed the area, creating an imprable barrier against unauthorized magical transportation. The main gates, massive iron structures embellished with magical runes, stood guard, permitting passage only to those with the proper clearance.

    For the weary workers, thework of designated fireces offered the sole way out from this fortress-like facility. As each witch or wizard stepped into the emerald mes, calling out their destination, they vanished in a whoosh of magical energy, leaving behind the day''sbor and heading home to their families or perhaps a weing tavern for a well-deserved butterbeer.

    While the offices gradually sumbed to silence, a stark contrast presented itself across the way. The factory buildings continued to hum with ceaseless activity. These windowless structures, sealed tight against prying eyes, guarded their secrets keenly. Theck of windows wasn''t simply an architectural choice; it was a deliberate security measure, ensuring that the proprietary processes within remained hidden from potential industrial spies or curious onlookers.

    High above this nocturnal scene, Sirius stood at the edge of the office building''s roof. The wind, unrestrained at this altitude, whipped around him, tousling his dark hair and causing his robes to billow dramatically.

    Sirius inhaled deeply, allowing the crisp night air to fill his lungs. As he gazed at the sealed structures, a flicker of concern passed across his features, etching lines of worry into his forehead.

    "Here you go--"

    A voice suddenly pierced through the veil of Sirius'' contemtion, jolting him back to the present moment. Despite the abruptness, Sirius didn''t flinch or show any outward sign of surprise. He turned smoothly and took the sandwich his colleague handed him, unwrapped it and took a big bite. As he chewed, he mumbled,

    "Mmm, delicious. Thank you, Tonks--"

    "Don''t mention it--" Tonks replied, her voice carrying a hint of pride at thepliment.

    Pleased by Sirius'' reaction, Tonks'' entire demeanor brightened. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes, and with a casual toss of her head, her hair underwent a dramatic transformation. The chestnut locks seamlessly morphed into a vibrant shade of violet.

    Mirroring Sirius'' stance, Tonks leaned against the railing, her gaze drawn to the factory buildings across the way. After a contemtive silence, broken only by the whisper of the wind and the distant hum of magical machinery, she muttered softly,

    "Aplete waste of time--"

    Hearing theint, Sirius'' lips curled into a wry smile. Though he didn''t voice it aloud, he inwardly agreed with Tonks'' assessment.

    As they stood there, a silence fell between them. Sirius finished his sandwich, brushing a few stray crumbs from his robes. His mind drifted back to the events that had led them to this moonlit vigil.

    Two weeks ago, the wizarding world had been rocked by a series of audacious break-ins. Several well-knownpanies had fallen victim to an unknown group of highly skilled thieves. These weren''t petty burrs ormon criminals; their ability to prate even the most secure magical defenses spoke of exceptional talent and meticulous nning.

    What perplexed investigators most was the thieves'' peculiar modus operandi. Despite gaining ess to the core areas of thesepanies they hadn''t taken a single galleon or secret documents. Instead, they had focused solely on searching the offices of top executives.

    The thieves had been remarkably cautious, taking great pains not to disturb the offices they invaded. However, they had underestimated the paranoia and resources of the wealthy and powerful. Through abination of sophisticated monitoring spells, magical trace detection, and good old-fashioned intuition, the business owners had discovered telltale signs of the intrusions.

    rm spread through the upper echelons of wizarding society like Fiendfyre. The victimizedpanies, their pride wounded and their sense of security shattered, banded together with other crucial magical enterprises that had yet to be targeted. United by fear and indignation, they brought immense pressure to bear on the Ministry of Magic, demanding swift action to apprehend the culprits and prevent future breaches.

    And Fudge found himself in an unenviable position again. Already dealing with the political fallout from the chaos at the Quidditch World Cup and whispers of dark forces stirring, he couldn''t afford another public rtions disaster. The thought of losing the support (and generous donations) of these influential business leaders was enough to jolt him into decisive action.

    In a rare disy of urgency, Fudge deployed the Ministry''s elite forces - the Aurors. Some were tasked with following up on the negligible leads avable, scrutinizing through magical residue and interrogating potential witnesses. Others, like Sirius and Tonks, were assigned to preventative duty, standing guard over high-value targets that had not yet been hit.

    That''s how Sirius and Tonks found themselves spending a chilly autumn night on the roof of Floo-Pow Ltd., the sole authorized producer of Floo Powder in the wizarding world. Founded centuries ago by Ignatia Wildsmith, the brilliant 13th-century witch who invented the revolutionary magical substance, Floo-Pow held aplete monopoly on its production and distribution.

    The importance of Floo Powder in the daily lives of witches and wizards could not be overstated. It enabled nearly instantaneous travel between fireces across vast distances, connecting homes, businesses, and magical institutions throughout Britain and beyond. For many, it was as essential as their wands or robes. The thought of this crucial supply being disrupted orpromised sent shivers down the spines of Ministry officials.

    As Sirius and Tonks kept their lonely vigil on the roof, their colleagues Kingsley Shacklebolt and John Dawlish maintained a watchful presence in an office below.

    But as Tonks had pointed out, their presence here was a double-edged sword. While Floo-Pow Ltd. was undoubtedly a tempting target, there were numerous other important wizardingpanies equally deserving of protection. The small Auror Office, already stretched thin by various responsibilities, simplycked the manpower to provideprehensive security for all potential targets.

    Seeking to lighten the mood and break the tension that had settled over them, Tonks suddenly spoke up, her tone shifting to one of excitement and curiosity.

    "Did you hear?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of barely contained enthusiasm. The abrupt change in topic was characteristic of Tonks, her mind as quick and changeable as her appearance. "Next week, the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons delegations will arrive at Hogwarts!"

    Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of nostalgia and envy as she continued, "Why couldn''t the Department of International Magical Cooperation and the Department of Magical Games and Sports do something like this when I was at Hogwarts? I wonder if Mr. Scrimgeour would let me take a couple days off for the Triwizard Tournament?"

    "You''re dreaming, Tonks--" Sirius said, his voice tinged with both amusement and a hint of resignation. "Since I became an Auror, the department hasn''t given me a single day off. I''ve been nning to find time to visit Harry at Hogwarts--"

    "Oh, the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter!" Tonks eximed, her voice brimming with curiosity. She leaned in closer, as if about to share a secret, and asked eagerly, "Do you think he''ll get involved in the Triwizard Tournament?"

    Sirius couldn''t help but chuckle at Tonks'' excitement. With a fond smile, he shook his head.

    "Impossible--" Sirius said, his tone a mixture of certainty and relief. "Of course, I know Harry - he certainly wouldn''t be afraid of the dangers in the Triwizard Tournament. That boy has faced things that would make seasoned wizards tremble."

    Shaking off the momentary darkness, Sirius continued, "But the problem is, he''s not old enough. With Bryan at Hogwarts, even if Harry and his friends wanted to find a loophole, I''m afraid they wouldn''t have a chance."

    The mention of Bryan sparked a new train of thought in Sirius'' mind. Turning to Tonks with genuine curiosity, he asked, "Speaking of which, Tonks, you attended Hogwarts with Bryan, didn''t you?"

    Tonks'' face lit up at the question, a mischievous grin spreading across her features. "We even served detention together, with Snape--" she said, her voice carrying notes of both pride and nostalgia.

    Her expression softened as she continued, delving into her memories of the past. "He was two years above me. Bryan wasn''t anything like he is today when he was at Hogwarts. He didn''t like talking to people much, but you could see in his eyes that he wasn''t afraid of interacting with others. It was more like... he was always lost in thought.

    Wherever he went, he carried a basket full of books - he was a well-known bookworm back then. Always had his nose buried in some ancient tome or obscure magical text. Some of us used to joke that he was trying to read the entire Hogwarts library before graduation."

    "Sounds a bit like Harry''s friend, a young witch named Hermione," Sirius said, smiling slightly. The parallel between the two bookworms across generations amused him.

    The mention of Hermione sparked another chain of memories for Sirius, leading him back to his own days at Hogwarts. His eyes took on a distant look as he traveled back in time.

    "When I was at Hogwarts, Lily was the one who loved studying the most," he said softly, a hint of old pain coloring his voice. "You must know, she was Harry''s mother. She was the smartest witch I''ve ever met, bar none. Brilliant at Charms, a dab hand at Potions, and she had this way of seeing connections that the rest of us missed."

    Sirius'' voice grew warmer as he continued, lost in the memories of his youth. "Many people admired her - James, of course, he liked to bother Lily, but it was really just to get close to her. He''de up with these borate schemes to impress her, always backfiring spectacrly. I remember this one time he tried to enchant her quill to write poetry... ended up filling the entire Gryffindormon room with floating love sos."

    A chuckle escaped Sirius'' lips, the sound carrying both humor and a tinge of mncholy. "And Peter..." his voice trailed off, a shadow passing over his features. "Well, we won''t talk about him."

    Shaking off the momentary darkness, Sirius continued, his tone brightening once more. "Remus was the same - he especially admired Lily''s intelligence, though he wasn''t bad himself. In fact, Remus was the hardest working of all of us. Always had his nose in a book, always trying to keep James and me out of trouble. Not that he was always sessful, mind you."

    "Remus told me about how you all became friends--" Tonks suddenly blurted out, her excitement palpable. "He told me that when you were in school, you were among the few students who didn''t care about his condition!"

    "He actually told you about that?" Sirius looked at Tonks in surprise. "That guy doesn''t easily talk about his past. I bet, Tonks, Remus must really like you!"

    Though Tonks knew intellectually that the ''like'' Sirius mentioned wasn''t in that sense, her hair still turned a shade of pink with happiness. She looked at Sirius eagerly, her eyes sparkling with curiosity, silently pleading for him to share more stories about their past.

    Sirius himself was something of a living legend within the Ministry of Magic. His unique life experiences - from his time as a Marauder at Hogwarts to his wrongful imprisonment in Azkaban and subsequent release - had made him a figure of fascination for many. Quite a few of his colleagues were intensely curious about his story, drawn to the mix of tragedy and triumph that defined his life.

    So, when Tonks looked at him with such open enthusiasm, Sirius didn''t find her request strange at all. In fact, since Bryan had encouraged him to make more connections within the Ministry, he had made a conscious effort to be more open about his past. Of course, there were still secrets he couldn''t reveal - some for security reasons, others too painful to revisit - but in general, he had be more willing to share his experiences.

    Mindful of their surroundings and the importance of their mission, Sirius casually flicked his wand, muttering an incantation under his breath. A shimmering, nearly invisible barrier sprang up around them, ensuring that their conversation wouldn''t carry to unwanted ears. It was a precaution against both potential intruders and their colleague''s downstairs - after all, Kingsley and Dawlish might not approve of their rooftop chat session during such a crucial investigation.

    With the privacy spell in ce, Sirius settled in to tell Tonks with tales of the past. His grey eyes sparkled with a mix of nostalgia and mischief as he began to recount some of the Marauders'' more memorable adventures.

    "Did I ever tell you about the time we snuck into the Slytherinmon room?" Sirius asked, a roguish grin spreading across his face. "It was in our fourth year, just after James and I had mastered the Disillusionment Charm..."

    As Sirius spun his tales, Tonks listened with rapt attention. The two of them became so engrossed in their conversation that they lost all track of time. The moon continued its arc across the sky, casting ever-shifting shadows across the rooftop.

    Tonks would tell Sirius what Bryan was like as a student in her memory, in return, Sirius was generous with his own recollections, painting vivid pictures of their adventures at Hogwarts.

    As they talked, the night deepened around them. The factoryplex below continued its ceaseless activity, asionally, they would pause in their reminiscing to scan the area, But each time, seeing nothing amiss, they would drift back into their shared stories.

    Time slipped by, marked only by the gradual shift of shadows and the deepening rity of the moonlight against the velvet backdrop of the night sky. The air grew cooler, carrying with it the crisp scent of autumn leaves and the faint trace of magic that always seemed to linger around ces of great magical activity.

    Their vignce was rewarded - or perhaps interrupted - when arge convoy of carriages appeared on the horizon. Sirius and Tonks watched intently as the convoy came to a stop outside the factory gates. A team of security wizards emerged from a small guardhouse, their wands at the ready as they began a thorough inspection of each carriage.

    After what seemed like an eternity of tense observation, the security team finally gave the all-clear. The massive gates creaked open, one by one, the carriages advanced into the factoryplex, disappearing into the cavernous unloading bay that stretched open to receive them.

    As thest carriage vanished from sight and the gates nged shut once more, Sirius let out a breath he hadn''t realized he''d been holding. He turned his gaze back to Tonks, ready to resume their conversation. The brief interruption had brought him back to the present.

    "You know," he began, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "after graduating, I had a falling out with my family. So, I packed my things and moved in with James. His parents... Merlin, they were wonderful people. They took me in without a second thought, treated me almost like a second son. I don''t know what I would have done without them."

    A soft smile appeared on his lips as he continued, "James and I both tried to convince Remus to move in too, but he always refused. He was constantly afraid that he would lose control one day and hurt James'' family. No matter how many times we told him we didn''t care about his <em>''furry little problem,</em>'' as James liked to call it, Remus always kept that wall up. I think, deep down, he never quite believed he deserved happiness."

    Tonks listened intently, her heart aching for the young Remus that Sirius described. She opened her mouth toment, but before she could speak, Sirius continued, his voice growing heavier.

    "Later, as the war intensified, we..."

    <strong>BOOM!</strong>

    The floor beneath their feet suddenly shook violently, as if a volcano had erupted directly beneath the building. The peaceful night was shattered by the thunderous roar of an explosion, followed by the tinkling crash of shattering ss and the ominous groan of straining metal.

    A massive fireball erupted from the side of the building, breaking through the magical barriers that had seemed so imprable just moments before. Tongues of magical me, tinged with an unnatural purple hue, licked at the night sky. The heat was intense, causing the air to shimmer and distort.

    Amidst the chaos, a figure in a ck cloak was violently ejected from the building. The force of the st sent them speeding through the air, as they arced across the night sky. They crashed onto the rooftop not far from where Sirius and Tonks stood.

    For a split second, Sirius and Tonks stood frozen, their minds struggling to process the sudden shift from peaceful conversation to explosive chaos.

    "Tonks, Sirius, what on earth are you doing?!" Kingsley''s deep voice boomed from below, tinged with a mixture of pain and fury. He had been thrown into the corridor by the force of the explosion, his skin marred by a stream of blood flowing from a nasty gash on his arm.

    Despite his injury, Kingsley''s wand was steady in his uninjured hand. With a powerful st of magic, he blew open the ceiling, creating arge, jagged hole through which he could see his colleagues on the roof. Debris rained down around him, but Kingsley paid it no mind, his attention fully focused on the unfolding crisis.

    Meanwhile, Dawlish had already burst through the billowing smoke that filled the corridor. His face was a mask of determination tinged with a hint of barely controlled rage. Dawlish vaulted over the scattered debris, making a beeline for the unconscious figure in the ck cloak thaty unconscious on the ground.

    As the smoke slowly dissipated, carried away by the night breeze, In the clear moonlight, looking at the face whose mask had shattered as ity on the ground, Sirius and Tonks on the roof were struck dumb in unison.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0492 Trust

    0492 Trust

    In the world of Muggles, London is equally a renowned international metropolis.

    It was ten o''clock at night, and the metropolis was alive with a vitality that seemed to contradict thete hour, as nightlife for the lively Muggle youth who live in this urban jungle was yet in its infancy.

    The city''s nightlife was centered around themercial streets, which were brimming with an almost excessive quantity of activity. The footsteps of excited celebrants appeared to reverberate across every square inch of pavement, their faces disying a mixture of eagerness and joy. The city was alive with sounds, with the continual buzz of traffic acting as the city''s incessant heartbeat, lively discussions interspersed withughing that rang out like bells.

    The night sky was painted in hues that nature never intended by neon lights, which came in a dizzying assortment of colors. These man-made auroras streamed down building facades, bouncing off storefront windows, cafes, and bars. The illumination cast an ethereal light over onlookers'' faces, turning mundane features into something nearly magical. Every business on the street turned into a beacon, attracting customers like moths to a me.

    Shining window disys drew in passersby, their merchandise tastefully designed to appeal to the senses and tempt the checkbook. Pubs and bars, from hip cocktail lounges to historic taverns, opened their doors, their warm glow luring patrons in and providing a wee escape from the nighttime cold.

    Cafes provided a more tranquil setting for anyone looking for some alone time or peaceful conversation in the middle of the bustling city, with their outdoor seating sections heated by strategically ced lighting.

    The Muggles glided through this terrain with a smooth ease, their faces aglow with the exhration of liberation and the seductive possibilities of the evening ahead.

    However, these partygoers had no idea that just a few blocks from the bustling center of Muggle London, another world coexisted with theirs, concealed from view.

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    The sound was barely discernible above the distant noise of Muggle revelry, slicing through the air like a knife. Suddenly, a spectacr firework appeared on top of a crumbling building.

    The sparks cascaded down in a shower of golden light, briefly illuminating the crumbling brickwork and rusted fire discharges before fading into nothingness.

    In a world less saturated with artificial illumination, such a disy would have drawn gasps of wonder and craned necks skyward. But here, in the shadow of London''s luminous skyline, it passed almost unnoticed. The firework, magical in nature and origin, was lost in the sea of man-made lights that flooded the city, its brief moment of glory overshadowed by the persistent glow of neon.

    Even the couple locked in a passionate embrace in the dim crevice of a nearby alley remained oblivious to the spectacle above.

    The few feet that separated them marked the edge of their reality; everything else in London, magical or not, was as if it didn''t exist.

    A figure appeared from the fading mes of the magical firework as thest of its sparks vanished into the soiled night sky. On the rooftop, Bryan appeared, his entrance as abrupt and spectacr as the fireworks that had before him. Sharp and vignt, his eyes surveyed his surroundings with the trained efficiency of someone used to being on guard all the time.

    The street below was a far cry from the colorful Muggle thoroughfares that were only a few blocks away. There was utter devastation. The worn-out and cracked pavement was peppered with weeds that continued to poke through the concrete, seeming like nature''s silent protest against urban growth.

    A solitary red telephone booth stood guard on the corner, its paint peeling and faded, a relic of a bygone era. The booth swayed slightly in the chill wind that whipped through the empty street, the ss panels rattling in their frames like chattering teeth.

    A soft sigh of relief escaped Bryan''s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. His hand moved almost unconsciously to stroke the warm, feathered head of Fawkes perched on his shoulder.

    The act of long-distance Apparition, while second nature to a wizard of his caliber, was not without its toll. Although for Bryan, as long as it wasn''t across national borders, this kind of consumption usually wasn''t a big problem. However, even he cannotpletely negate the drain on his magical reserves and physical stamina.

    He silently acknowledged the advantages of traveling via phoenix. Fawkes'' ability to traverse vast distances in the blink of an eye, unhindered by most wizarding spatial sealing magic, was a gift beyond measure. In times like these, when every second counted and conventional magic might fail, having Fawkes as an ally could mean the difference between sess and catastrophic failure.

    But there was no time to dwell on such thoughts. The night was young, but time was of the essence. Bryan took out his wand and inscribed silvery-white marks in the space beneath the light-polluted night sky. A ck and white-winged serpent leaped out from the marks, slithering in front of Bryan.

    After being injected with several strands of bright silver mist, the serpent spread its wings and plunged towards the ground like a stream of light, prating the surface without causing the slightest ripple.

    Havingpleted this, Bryan put away his wand. He strolled on the rooftop of the dpidated building, facing the Mugglemercial street that was as bright as day. His gaze prated through the obstructions of wall after wall, staring at thoseughing and chattering faces, falling into a long silence.

    Fawkes tilted its head, its pure gem-like eyes clearly reflecting the faint aloneness that appeared on the young face. Fawkes seemed ustomed to this expression, letting out a melodious cry and gently caressing Bryan''s slightly cold cheek with its side face.

    <strong>Crack--</strong>

    The explosive sound of Apparition tore through the night''s illusory tranquility. In the deserted street below, Sirius materialized out of thin air, his body tense with anxiety and alertness.

    No sooner had Sirius appeared than his head spun frantically, eyes scanning the empty street with urgency. To Bryan''s mild surprise, he wasn''t alone. Tonks stood beside him.

    "I''m up here¡ª" Bryan called out, his voice pitched to carry clearly to the street below without echoing off the surrounding buildings. The words, infused with a touch of magic, reached Sirius and Tonks with perfect rity, as if Bryan were standing right beside them.

    Two more cracks split the air in rapid session, and suddenly Sirius and Tonks were on the rooftop, their faces etched with worry and determination.

    "Bryan!" Sirius eximed, rushing to his side.

    Being an Auror was indeed a grueling job. Bryan noticed that Sirius, who rushed to his side, had be thinner than he was a month ago, and his skin color had returned to the wind-beaten, sun-tanned look from when the two of them were at sea.

    After ncing in surprise at Fawkes perched on Bryan''s shoulder, Siriusposed himselffocusing on the matter at hand.

    "What are you doing here?" Sirius asked urgently, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Why didn''t youe directly to the Ministry? We need to hurry. Scrimgeour has already gone to report the situation to Fudge. If they beat us to it, then Remus¡ª"

    Sirius''s words trailed off, but the fear in his grey eyes spoke volumes. His rapid breathing and the slight tremor in his hands showed the depth of his concern.

    No one present knows the horrors of Azkaban better than him, and the thought of Remus facing that same fate was clearly tearing him apart. If Remus were to be detained in that nightmarish prison, it could very well be the end of him!

    "Hmm¡ª" Bryan hummed in a steady voice, His calm demeanor seemed to have a stabilizing effect on Sirius. "First, tell me the details. Why did Remus end up in your hands? Was it a coincidence or¡ª"

    "It waspletely idental!" Sirius interjected, his voice carrying a mix of disbelief and frustration. Having weathered many storms, Sirius quickly stabilized his emotions. He fell silent for a few seconds, organizing his thoughts, then spoke rapidly,

    "Recently, several well-knownpanies have experienced break-ins. Nothing was stolen, which is odd in itself. Under normal circumstances, this kind of thing would be handled by regr Enforcement Squads or Hit Wizards. It''s hardly the sort of case that would warrant Auror involvement. But these aren''t normal circumstances."

    Sirius''s face darkened as he continued, " Thesepanies, they''ve got connections in high ces. They put pressure on Fudge, demanding that he investigate the truth quickly. You know how Fudge is - always more concerned with appearances and cating the wealthy than with actual justice.

    So, Fudge had Scrimgeour send us out. One group was assigned to investigate the break-ins, trying to piece together what happened and why. Another group, my group, was sent to stake out potential targets, hoping to catch the perpetrators."

    Sirius paused, his expression growing even more troubled. "Tonight, Tonks, Kingsley, Dawlish, and I were assigned to guard Floo-Pow, one of thepanies that had not been hit before. And then, unexpectedly..." His voice trailed off, the implication clear. None of them had expected to encounter Remus under such circumstances.

    "I don''t understand!" Tonks interjected, her face full of confusion and concern. "Does this mean that Remus was behind all the previous incidents? Why would he do such a thing? He... surely wasn''t stealing anything, right? Thosepanies that contacted the Ministry have already said they didn''t lose anything. So, he... he was investigating something, wasn''t he?"

    Sirius shot a quick nce at Bryan, whose face remained impassive. Needless to say, Remus must have been acting on Bryan''s orders, investigating the true controlling families behind these corporate giants. Such people are often exceptionally cunning, adept at concealing their identities.

    "We''ll discuss this matterter¡ª" Bryan interjected smoothly, making a calming gesture towards Tonks. Turning back to Sirius, he asked the most pressing question, "What''s Remus''s current situation?"

    Sirius''s response was immediate and grim. "He''s being held in the cells at the Auror Office. There was a confrontation. He fought with Dawlish and Kingsley. When he was brought to the Ministry, he was still unconscious!"

    A flicker of something simr to malice passed across Sirius''s features as he added, " But I managed to check his injuries when they first brought him in, it''s mostly impact trauma, nothing too serious. He''ll have a hell of a headache when he wakes up, but there shouldn''t be anysting damage."

    Sirius''s expression darkened further as he continued. "Scrimgeour won''t let me anywhere near the cells now. My rtionship with Remus is no secret in the department, and Scrimgeour probably fears I might try to release Remus secretly. And Dawlish," he practically spitted the name, "that git has always been hostile towards me. He''s keeping a very close eye on my movements."

    "Dawlish has always thought that the dark wizard who released Fiendfyre at Grimmauld ce duringst year''s mission was you," Tonks chimed in, her eyes darting nervously between Sirius and Bryan. There was a plea in her voice as she turned to Bryan, "You can get Remus out, right, Bryan?"

    "Don''t worry¡ª" Bryan''s response was apanied by a reassuring smile. "Remus won''t have any problems. But right now, the most important thing is that we need time."

    "Time?" Sirius repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you need us to do, Bryan?"

    Bryan''s mind was clearly working at lightning speed, formting and discarding ns in rapid session. "You just said that when Remus was brought into the Ministry, he was unconscious, right?" he asked, waiting for Sirius''s confirming nod before continuing. "You only need to help me do one thing, which is to find an opportunity as soon as possible to pass a message to Remus, telling him to maintain a state of unclear consciousness."

    Bryan''s gaze swept over both Sirius and Tonks, ensuring they understand the importance of his words. "I suggest you ask Kingsley for help. He has a good rtionship with Dumbledore and won''t refuse your request. Besides, I guess Dumbledore has probably already given him instructions to assist if a situation like this were to arise."

    Looking at the two attentive listeners, Bryan paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing, "ording to thew, even suspects have the right to request treatment for their injuries before cooperating with any investigation. You can help Remus apply to go to St. Mungo''s for treatment first. No matter what, make sure he buys me two to three days of time."

    Sirius''s eyes widened in surprise, a mix of confusion and concern etched on his face. "You''re not nning to intervene now?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. The idea of leaving Remus in Ministry custody, even for a short time, clearly unsettled him.

    "I need to make some preparations¡ª" Bryan exined, his hand moving to stroke Fawkes'' head, signaling it to get ready,

    "If I go to the Ministry now, it would be equivalent to using force to coerce the Ministry into releasing Remus, Although Fudge might eventually give in, it would still be a very unwise choice. I have a better way to handle this problem."

    As he spoke, Fawkes spread its magnificent wings, the feathers glowing with fire. The air around them began to shimmer, distorting like heat waves rising from sun-baked asphalt. Bryan''s form started to blur, the edges of his silhouette bing indistinct against the backdrop of the night sky.

    Sirius and Tonks watched in awe as brilliant mes engulfed Bryan and Fawkes. For a brief moment, the rooftop was bathed in golden light, as if the sun itself had momentarily risen in the middle of the night. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the fire dissipated, leaving behind nothing but a faint scorch mark on the weathered rooftop.

    Watching the space where Bryan had stood mere moments ago, Sirius let out a heavy sigh. His shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of the situation seemingly pressing down on him. He turned to Tonks, his grey eyes reflecting a mix of determination and concern.

    "Let''s go," he said, his voice gruff with suppressed emotion. "We need to get back to the Ministry quickly. I can''t get near the cells now without arousing suspicion, so you''ll have to find an excuse to call Kingsley out. Have him help convey Bryan''s message to Remus."

    Tonks nodded, her usually vibrant hair turning mousy brown, reflecting her serious mood. As they prepared to Apparate, she hesitated for a moment, gnawing on her lower lip in a gesture of worry. "Do you think Bryan has a way to rescue Remus?"

    She continued, her words tumbling out in a rush, "Yeah, I know Bryan is very capable, but he won''t do anything reckless, right? Dumbledore wouldn''t allow him to do that, would he? Thest thing we need is for Bryan to end up in trouble too."

    Sirius didn''t respond immediately. His gaze was fixed on the spot where Bryan had vanished, as if he could still see the afterimage of the phoenix fire. The silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sounds of Muggle London and the whisper of the wind across the rooftop.

    When Sirius finally spoke, his voice was filled with quiet confidence.

    "Don''t worry, Bryan is a trustworthy person. I believe he can definitely rescue Remus, and he''ll do it in a way that won''t cause more problems down the line."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0493 Visit

    0493 Visit

    The pale, golden rays of the morning sun had just begun to pierce through the thick, swirling fog that rosezily from the serpentine Seine River, nketing much of the city in a ghostly shroud.

    Paris, the City of Light, was barely stirring from its deep slumber, its cobblestone streets not yet echoing with the cacophony of daily life. The wide, tree-lined boulevards were mercifully free from the endless flow of honking cars and bustling pedestrians, with only the asional early-rising Muggle jogging along the sidewalks or cycling past, their breath visible in the crisp morning air.

    In the middle of this peaceful metropolitan setting stood a massive building that seemed to defy basic architectural principles¨C Gringotts World Bank, the impregnable fortress of goblin ingenuity and the undisputed financial nucleus of the wizarding world.

    Within the towering structure, a different world thrived, one hidden from Muggle eyes by powerful enchantments. The industrious goblins, driven by an insatiable hunger for wealth and power, had no concept of rest or reprieve. The countless floors of the bank, which had been illuminated throughout the night like a beacon of ceaselessmerce, now appeared dim inparison to the growing light of the sun.

    Yet inside, armies of goblins toiled tirelessly at their desks, their long fingers flying over ancient ledgers and magical calcting devices. Their eyes, normally dark and beady, were now bloodshot and crazed, as if their unwavering quest for profit had caused them to consume an excessive amount of the powerful Elixir of Euphoria.

    However, as in any society or system, there existed a privileged ss even among the goblins.

    A more sophisticated atmosphere gradually reced the frenzied activity as one approached the towering heights of Gringotts. The higher floors grew increasingly quiet and luxurious, serving not only as the workces of high-ranking goblins but also as theirvish living quarters.

    Here, there was no need for these goblins of unimaginable wealth and status to deny themselves the simple pleasures of a leisurely morning. Exotic coffees, freshly baked pastries, and a subtle hint of gold filled the air, giving goblin senses a seductive perfume that most people would find offensive.

    The pinnacle of this goblin hierarchy was the top floor of Gringotts World Bank, a level so exclusive that few beings, goblin or otherwise, had ever set eyes on it. This was the domain of Gerson Barnah, one of the most influential and powerful leaders of the goblin race. Barnah was an elderly goblin his once jet-ck hair now streaked with silver, and his face was full of wrinkles that spoke of centuries of cunning dealings and ruthless business acumen.

    To ensure he had sufficient energy for the day''s demanding work of manipting global wizarding economies, Barnah had long ago decreed that the hours between 3 AM and 8 AM were his untouchable private time. During this period, not a single soul ¨C be they goblin, wizard, or even the Minister of Magic himself ¨C was permitted to disturb Gerson Barnah''s rest and this edict had been faithfully observed for many years.

    But today, the atmosphere in Gringotts'' upper echelons crackled with an unusual energy, as the situation was particrly different from the norm.

    A group of goblins, each dressed in exquisitely tailored ck formal wear that would put the finest Savile Row suits to shame, rushed up from the lower floors. Their arms were heavy with trays carrying an array of delicate pastries, each a work of culinary art. The scent of butter, sugar, and exotic spices wafted through the corridors, causing even the most disciplined goblins to cast longing nces at the sumptuous feast.

    After passing through a series of rigorous security checks that would make Fort Knox seem like a yground, the group was finally granted ess to Barnah''s private office. The office was a marvel of goblin craftsmanship and magical engineering. Its walls were lined with dozens of decorative fireces, each connected to Gringotts branches around the globe, allowing for instantaneousmunication and travel. Ancient tapestries depicting great moments in goblin history hung between the fireces, their enchanted threads shimming with an otherworldly light.

    In the center of the cavernous room, the goblin servants went about their task with clockwork precision. They erected a table and draped it with a tablecloth woven from the finest unicorn hair, its surface shimmering with prismatic glow that seemed to change color with each shift of light.

    The centerpieces ¨C intricate constructions of precious metals and gemstones that told stories of goblin lore ¨C were ced with mathematical precision. Candbras of pure goblin silver, enchanted to burn with mes of various hues, cast a warm, flickering light across the scene. The cutlery, each piece a masterwork of goblin metallurgy, was arranged with perfect alignment.

    Overseeing this meticulous preparation were two goblins: Ragnok and Laddie. Master Barnah had given them solemn instructions that an extremely distinguished guest was visiting this morning, and they must receive this esteemed guest with the utmost care and respect.

    After the events ofst time, both Ragnok and Laddie had be moreposed. They issuedmands methodically, and soon all preparations wereplete: Laddie waved the servant goblins out of the office.

    As thest of the servant goblins scurried from the office, their taskplete, Laddie ncing at a door to the side of Master Barnah''s office crept up to Ragnok, finally unable to contain his curiosity.

    "What in the name of Gringotts'' gold is happening?" Laddie whispered to Ragnok. "It''s been nigh on two decades since we''ve seen such preparations. Who could possiblymand such hospitality from Master Barnah?"

    Ragnok''s face, already full of wrinkles and scars, furrowed even deeper. He cast a wary nce towards the hidden door that led to Barnah''s private chambers before responding in equally hushed tones.

    "I haven''t the faintest notion, Laddie," he muttered, shaking his head. "But mark my words ¨C whoever it is, they''re either incredibly powerful or incredibly dangerous. Perhaps both. It''s not our ce to specte. We''d do well to follow orders and keep our noses clean, lest we find ourselves on the wrong end."

    Laddie''s thin lips quivered with barely contained frustration. It was clear that Ragnok''s cautious response did little to satisfy his burning curiosity. However, years of goblin discipline prevailed, and he swallowed his questions, returning to his post beside the ornate chair reserved for Gerson Barnah.

    The tense silence that followed was shattered by a sudden, ethereal glow. The intricate runes carved above one of the many fireces along the office walls burst into life. Without warning, a gout of emerald mes erupted from the previously cold and dark firece, bathing the room in an eerie green glow.

    Ragnok and Laddie exchanged startled nces, their eyes wide with surprise and a hint of fear. They had naturally assumed that this mysterious guest of such significance would enter through the office''s main door, following protocol. The fact that Master Barnah had granted this visitor the privilege of using the room''s secure Floowork spoke volumes about the level of trust ¨C or perhaps necessity ¨C at y.

    As the green mes began to subside, a silhouette emerged from the magical fire. The moment this figure''s outline became clear, an uncontroble wave of panic surged through Ragnok and Laddie''s minds, nearly overwhelming their carefully cultivated goblinposure.

    "Ah, if it isn''t my two little acquaintances," a smooth, cultured voice cut through the crackling of the dying mes.

    Stepping out of the firece with the grace of a cat, Bryan casually dusted a few ashes from his impably tailored wizarding robes. His piercing gaze swept across the opulent office. He noted with interest that little had changed since hisst, rather eventful visit a few months prior, except for the addition of the exquisite dining table beneath the room''s centerpiece ¨C a chandelier of intricate crystal work that appeared to beposed of frozen starlight.

    Naturally, Bryan also noticed the two small goblins standing by the armrests of the chairs on either side of the table, looking terrified at his appearance.

    "Ragnok and Laddie, if I''m not mistaken," Bryan said, his voice smooth as he approached the table. "I do hope I haven''t butchered your names. You both appear to have made quite the recovery since ourst... encounter."

    That night, Bryan had fought in this very office against Ragnok, Laddie, and a group of goblin guards, leaving the two before him gravely injured. Under normal circumstances, such wounds would have resulted in death or permanent disability for the goblins. But judging from their upright posture now, their bodies seemed to be in good condition.

    "They owe you a debt of gratitude for your restraint, Mr. Watson," a new voice interjected.

    The hidden door at the far end of the room swung open with a soft hiss of well-oiled hinges. Gerson Barnah in robes of shimming silver-green that seemed to ripple like water with each movement, shuffled into his office. As he entered, the aged goblin carefully adjusted the pair of pince-nez sses perched on his long, hooked nose.

    Upon confirming that the visitor was indeed Bryan Watson, a spark of vitality seemed to ignite within Barnah''s old body. He moved with newfound vigor, closing the distance between them until he stood directly before the young wizard.

    "Wee, Mr. Watson," the old goblin said, extending a hand that, despite its apparent frailty, radiated an aura of immense power. Bryan, his smile never wavering, bent at the waist to grasp Barnah''s hand, shaking it a few times.

    "I do hope my unannounced arrival hasn''t caused you any undue inconvenience, Mr. Barnah," Bryan said lightly.

    With practiced efficiency, Ragnok and Laddie pulled out the plush chairs for both Bryan and Barnah. Their movements were jerky and uncoordinated, showing their inner turmoil. It was clear to all present that their fear stemmed not from the presence of Gerson Barnah ¨C a formidable figure in his own right ¨C but from the man who now sat across from him: Bryan Watson.

    The goblins'' extensive intelligencework ensured that news traveled fast within their circles. Even if the information had been delivered by the slowest of owl post, the details of Bryan Watson''s earth-shattering duel at the Quidditch World Cup final would have long since reached their pointy ears. The battle, already being hailed as the duel of the new century, had sent shockwaves through the Wizarding world.

    Since learning the full extent of Bryan Watson''s power through their exclusive goblin channels, every surviving goblin who had participated in that ill-fated kidnapping attempt months ago had broken out in a cold sweat. The realization had dawned on them that if it hadn''t been for Master Barnah''s wisdom and Watson''s unexpected mercy, the entire goblin poption of Gringotts World Bank might have met a grisly fate that night.

    Bryan''s keen eyes didn''t miss the beads of cold sweat forming on Ragnok''s furrowed brow. He offered what he thought was a reassuring smile, but the effect on the one-armed goblin was quite the opposite. Ragnok visibly trembled, his dark green skin taking on an ashen color.

    Deciding to spare the poor creature further difort, Bryan turned his attention to the array of exquisite pastries on the table and the delicate cups steaming with fragrant green tea.

    "It appears you''ve done your homework on my preferences," Bryan remarked cheerfully, a note of appreciation in his voice.

    Barnah inclined his head slightly, his aged voice carrying a hint of pride as he replied, "You resided in Paris for several months, Mr. Watson. Learning about your personal tastes was a simple matter for our informationwork. We pride ourselves on being well-versed in the intricacies of wizarding hospitality. A guest of your... stature deserves nothing less than our utmost consideration. We hope you don''t find our effortscking."

    "Haha,cking? of course not¡ª" Bryan chuckled, lifting the delicate teacup to his lips. He took a small sip, savoring theplex vors. As he set the cup down, his eyes met Barnah''s across the table. In those old orbs, Bryan could clearly perceive a mixture of wariness, curiosity, and calction.

    "I must say, this is truly exceptional," Bryan said, gesturing towards the tea with a graceful motion. "In all my travels, I don''t believe I''ve ever encountered a brew quite so fragrant and invigorating. I''m beginning to regret my earlier decision, Mr. Barnah. Had I epted your generous offer of cooperation sooner, perhaps I might have tasted this much earlier!"

    The cooperation Bryan referred to was Barnah''s previous letter, seeking to leverage the Triwizard Tournament for advertising purposes within the event''s stadium. Bryan had declined at the time, partly out of a desire to preserve the tournament''s dignity from explicitmercialization.

    But there was more to it than that ¨C the fact that Gerson Barnah, who controlled Gringotts World Bank Headquarters, had reached out for such a seemingly trivial matter had raised Bryan''s suspicions. He had sensed that the true purpose behind the request was impure; it was merely using this seemingly reasonable banner to offer him gold galleons.

    "You honor us with your praise," Barnah replied smoothly, his wrinkled face creasing into what passed for a smile among goblins. "Of course, the missed opportunity for coboration remains a source of regret for me as well."

    With a soft thud, Bryan set down his teacup. He inteced his long fingers, resting them on the edge of the table as he observed the old goblin before him. Barnah''s eyes, which at first nce appeared rheumy and unfocused, constantly shed with an inner fire of cunning and intellect.

    A slight smile appeared across Bryan''s lips as he spoke.

    "Well, Mr. Barnah, it just so happens that the purpose of my visit today is to make up for that very regret."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0494 Cooperation

    0494 Cooperation

    "Well, Mr. Barnah, it just so happens that the purpose of my visit today is to make up for that very regret."

    When Bryan casually uttered these words, a palpable silence descended upon the luxurious office. Gerson Barnah, his old eyes never leaving Bryan''s face, observed him with an intensity that could have bored holes through solid rock. The wrinkles on the goblin''s skin, already simr bark of a centuries-old oak, deepened further, etching a look of cunning and suspicion across his face.

    "How surprising and unexpected, Mr. Watson¡ª" Barnah said slowly. Though his voice remained steady, beneath the surface, a storm of astonishment churned within him. The concept that a wizard of Bryan Watson''s caliber and reputation would reverse a decision already made was as unlikely as snow in the Sahara. It opposed everything Barnah thought he knew about the man seated before him.

    Mastering his inner turmoil with the skill of a seasoned politician, Barnah narrowed his eyes, allowing just the right amount of delight to appear across his face ¨C enough to seem pleased, but not so much as to appear eager or gullible.

    "I must express my deepest gratitude for your generosity, Mr. Watson," he continued, his gravelly voice carrying notes of warmth that, to the untrained ear, might have seemed genuine. "Of course, you needn''t concern yourself with matters ofpensation. In this particr venture, the goblin nation will waive all fees. Every Knut of advertising revenue will flow directly into Hogwarts'' coffers."

    "I fear you may have misinterpreted my intentions, Mr. Barnah." A soft chuckle escaped Bryan''s lips. His eyes twinkling with amusement.

    "My stance regarding advertisements during the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts remains unchanged. This isn''t somemon Quidditch World Cup arena where shy banners and relentless promotions run rampant. An overlymercial atmosphere would be... inappropriate for an event of such historical significance."

    As he spoke, Bryan''s hand moved with grace, reaching into his exquisitely tailored robes. From within, he took out an object and extended the item towards Ragnok, who stood nervously at attention by his side.

    The one-armed goblin, his nerves clearly frayed by the weight of the moment, took several agonizing seconds to react. When he finally did, his movements were aedy of errors ¨C fumbling, nearly dropping the object, and then scurrying to the other side of the table as if the floor had suddenly be moltenva.

    Barnah''s wrinkled hands closed around the object, his long fingers caressing its surface with a mix of intrigue and curiosity. Adjusting the pince-nez perched on his hooked nose, he scrutinized the item. Recognition dawned in his eyes almost immediately, and he spoke without a hint of hesitation.

    "This is¡ª" Barnah began, his voice carrying a hint of awe that he couldn''t entirely suppress, "This is the monitoring mirror you detailed in your safety report to the event reviewmittee during thest Wizards'' Council gathering. A fascinating invention, I must say, and one with immense practical applications. The goblin nation has conducted an internal assessment of its potential. If this item were to be mass-produced, Mr. Watson, it would undoubtedly open up vast new markets."

    The excitement in Barnah''s voice was palpable, like a miner who had just struck a particrly rich vein of gold. His mind was already racing, calcting the potential profits.

    Bryan nodded, a slight smile appearing across his lips. "Indeed, the applications for this device are widespread and varied," he acknowledged calmly. "However¡ªfor a multitude of reasons, both personal and ethical, I have reservations about allowing it to be used extensively in the daily lives of witches and wizards."

    Leaning forward slightly, Bryan fixed Barnah with a prating gaze. "Mr. Barnah, given your evident understanding of the monitoring mirror''s capabilities, have you perhaps considered its potential for broadcasting the Triwizard Tournament matches in real-time?"

    The old goblin''sposure, honed over centuries of high-stakes negotiations, cracked for just a moment. He was genuinely stunned this time. He hadn''t anticipated Bryan Watson making such a suggestion. But¡ª

    Live broadcasting the Triwizard Tournament to all European countries with Gringotts branches.

    His eyes widened; the cloudiness that had obscured them moments ago reced by a sharp, predatory gleam.

    "Can it truly broadcast images in real-time?" Barnah asked, straightening his slightly hunched back. His tone wavered between surprise and skepticism.

    Bryan nodded, his movements thoughtful and assured. "It will require some adjustments and fine-tuning," he exined. "You would need to coborate with the WWN ¨C the Wizarding Wireless Network. By leveraging their existingwork of signal receiving stations established across European countries and making some modifications to the monitoring mirrors, we should be able to achieve seamless real-time transmission."

    He paused, allowing the full weight of the proposition to settle. "While the Triwizard Tournament might be viewed by some as simply apetition for young wizards, we must not underestimate its significance. This traditional event holds considerable status in the magical history of European countries. I believe many people would be interested in it¡ª"

    Interested indeed!

    Even the smaller goblins, Ragnok and Laddie, who had been doing their best to blend into the background, couldn''t suppress a sharp intake of breath as they realized the enormity of the opportunity.

    Ticket sales for viewing the tournament? That was just pocket change, the appetizer before a feast. The real treasure, the mountain of gold that made Barnah''s old heart race,y in the myriad opportunities surrounding the broadcast. Advertisements strategically ced at viewing locations across Europe, each getting premium rates due to the captive audience. Gambling operations organized by the goblins, offering odds on every aspect of the tournament from the grand oues to the tiniest details of each task. The potential for profit was limited only by their imagination and their ability to exploit every angle.

    When Bryan Watson had initially refused to cooperate in producing the monitoring mirrors, Barnah had felt a twinge of disappointment. Now, however, as he contemted the amount of opportunityid out before him, he felt the blood in his aged veins stirring, pulsing with an excitement he hadn''t experienced in decades.

    "This is indeed an excellent business opportunity, Mr. Watson¡ª" The old goblin''s hoarse voice quivered with barely contained excitement, like a dam on the verge of bursting. "With this brilliant idea, you stand to be one of the wealthiest individuals in the wizarding world. And if we could extend this method to Quidditch league matches, well¡ª" He trailed off, his mind already racing ahead, envisioning the wealth empire built on the foundation of this revolutionary broadcast technology.

    Bryan raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise shing across his features. He had to admit, he was impressed. This old goblin''s business acumen was razor-sharp. Bryan had just introduced the concept, and already Barnah was innovating, expanding, and seeing opportunities within opportunities.

    It was truly an idea with the potential to generate wealth continuously, a golden goose that couldy eggs for generations toe. However, before it could be a stable, reliable source of ie, there were still many obstacles to ovee.

    Observing the aged goblin, who seemed lost in visions of industrial revolution and financial domination, Bryan tapped his long fingers on the table. The soft sound, barely audible, was nheless enough to draw Barnah back to the present moment.

    "Your business acumen is indeed remarkable, Mr. Barnah," Bryan said, his voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. "However, I believe we''re getting somewhat ahead of ourselves. These long-term considerations, while undoubtedly important, are matters we can discuss at ater juncture. For now, let us focus our energies on the more immediate concern ¨C broadcasting the Triwizard Tournament."

    Barnah blinked rapidly, as if awakening from a particrly vivid dream. "Ah, of course. Please forgive my momentarypse, Mr. Watson¡ª" Barnah inclined his head slightly towards Bryan, a gesture of respect that seemed to cost him some effort. "It''s been quite some time since I''ve encountered an idea of such brilliance and potential. You''re absolutely right, of course. We must concentrate on the task at hand ¨C the live broadcast of the Triwizard Tournament."

    The goblin''s mind, honed by centuries of financial maneuvering, was already racing, plotting out the necessary steps. "We''ll need to move swiftly to secure an agreement with the WWN. Venues must be rented across Europe, advertisements ced in every magical newspaper from the Daily Prophet to <em>Le Cri de Gargouille</em> (The Gargoyle''s Roar<em>)</em>. The logistics are intimidating, but the potential rewards..." He trailed off, his eyes gleaming with greediness.

    "Indeed, the profits promise to be substantial," Bryan said with an enigmatic smile, uttering words that the goblin found unbelievable. "Which brings us to the matter of remuneration. The goblins will pay me one-tenth of the profits¡ªThis one-tenth will be distributed among the champions participating in the Triwizard Tournament, as a token of appreciation for their contribution to the European magical world through their excellent performances."

    In other words, Bryan Watson, the mastermind behind this potentially revolutionary venture, was dering that he had no intention of iming the lion''s share of the profits for himself. Instead, he was proposing to leave the vast majority of the earnings in the goblins'' capable (and eerily long-fingered) hands.

    <strong>Impossible!</strong>

    The word zed through Barnah''s mind like wildfire. Every instinct honed over his long career screamed that this was too good to be true. In his centuries of dealings with wizards, he had encountered countless traps. Invariably, these traps were wrapped in the most enticing of packages. But Barnah knew all too well that if one allowed themselves to be blinded by greed, to thoughtlessly take the bait, the consequences could be utterly disastrous.

    Yes, the goblin race pursued profit with a single-minded determination that often shocked and appalled other magical beings. But this relentless drive for wealth did not equate to foolishness or ack of caution. On the contrary, it was precisely because of their insatiable desire for gold that goblins had developed a level of financial acumen and wariness that far surpassed that of most wizards.

    "Your generosity is... most unexpected, Mr. Watson¡ª" Barnah spoke slowly, each word carefully chosen. The wariness had crept back into his voice, recing the excitement of moments ago. "However, I find myselfpelled to point out that you, as the brilliant mind behind this idea, and Hogwarts, as the host of the tournament, should also receive substantialpensation. It''s only right and proper, wouldn''t you agree?"

    Bryan''s smile never wavered. "I believe you may have misunderstood my intentions once again, Mr. Barnah," he said, his voice as smooth as ever. "Allow me to rify: neither I nor Hogwarts will ept a single Knut from the profits generated by the live broadcast. However¡ª" he paused, allowing the tension in the room to build to a crescendo, "that does not mean we have no demands."

    Barnah leaned forward; his attention fully captured.

    Looking at the attentive old goblin, Bryan spoke calmly,

    "On the surface, the goblin nation appears to focus solely on Gringotts'' banking operations, But we both know that''s merely the tip of the iceberg, don''t we, Mr. Barnah? In reality, goblins have their fingers in many pies. Beyond simple investments, you directly control various alchemy workshops scattered across different countries. What I require is a fully functional alchemy workshop within British borders."

    Barnah''s drooping eyelids trembled slightly.

    "A fully functional alchemy workshop, Mr. Watson¡ª" His voice carried a hint of displeasure. "Surely you''re aware of the immense value such an establishment represents."

    "Oh, I assure you, I''m acutely aware," Bryan replied calmly, his posture rxed but his eyes never leaving Barnah''s face. "However, I believe you''ll find that the profits from broadcasting the Triwizard Tournament should more than cover the acquisition of an alchemy workshop, don''t you think? In fact, I could easily use my share of the earnings to purchase one outright. But you see, Mr. Barnah, time is a luxury I find myself short of these days. My energies are required elsewhere, which is precisely why I''ve chosen this more... convenient approach."

    Barnah fell silent, his mind working furiously, performingplex calctions with a speed that would have put the most advanced Arithmancy professors to shame. As the numbers merged in his mind, he had to admit, that the deal wasn''t a loss. Far from it, in fact.

    However, a nagging sense of unease persisted. Not knowing the urgency behind Bryan Watson''s desire to acquire an alchemy workshop left him feeling as if he were navigating treacherous waters without a map.

    As the goblin pondered, his gaze fell upon the monitoring mirror still resting on the table before him. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning illuminating a pitch-ck sky, the old goblin''s eyes lit up in realization. His eyes widened with a mixture of triumph and wariness as he blurted out,

    "You intend to establish this alchemy workshop for the mass production of monitoring mirrors, don''t you, Mr. Watson?"

    Barnah was certain he had uncovered the truth, like a prospector striking gold after years of fruitless searching. The monitoring mirror, as an alchemical device of immense potential, had applications so wide-ranging they boggled the mind. As its inventor, Bryan Watson could easily obtain a production license, meaning he could enjoy the profits from this revolutionary invention exclusively. In the long run, he stood to benefit enormously from its use in Quidditch league matches and beyond. It all made perfect sense now ¨C this exined why he had previously made excuses to refuse cooperation on the monitoring mirrors.

    "Ah, Mr. Barnah," Just as the old goblin was certain he had unraveled the mystery, Bryan shook his head slightly, and chuckled. "I believe I''ve already made my stance quite clear on this matter. As I said before, I have no intention of widely introducing this particr invention into the daily lives of witches and wizards. The alchemy workshop I seek is needed for the mass production of... other items."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0495 Conditions & Assumptions

    0495 Conditions & Assumptions

    Bryan having seemingly exhausted his list of revtions, gracefully lifted his delicate porcin teacup once more. He leaned back into the plush embrace of his chair, and took a long, contented sip of the exquisite brew quietly waiting for Gerson Barnah to ept the deal.

    <em>''What could be so valuable that the renowned Bryan Watson would personally travel to Paris to negotiate this business?''</em>

    The old goblin''s gaze lowered, his rheumy eyes fixating on the exquisite pastriesid out before him like jewels on a goldsmith''s workbench.

    An oppressive silence fell upon the room, broken only by the soft ticking of an antique clock and the barely audible breathing of its upants.

    It was impossible for Barnah to quell the burning curiosity that gnawed at his insides like acid. Yet, with the wisdom born of centuries of high-stakes negotiations, he recognized the futility of pressing the issue. Bryan Watson''s demeanor made it crystal clear that he had no intention of divulging any further information.

    "Mr. Watson¡ª"

    After what seemed an eternity, the old goblin finally raised his head.

    "We find ourselves with nopelling reason to refuse this most intriguing proposition. The profits generated from the Triwizard Tournament broadcast will be distributed precisely as you have outlined. As for the matter of your personal remuneration..."

    Here, Barnah paused, his long fingers steepled before him in a gesture of deep contemtion.

    "If my memory serves me correctly ¨C and I assure you, Mr. Watson, that despite my advanced years, it rarely fails me ¨C we have a workshop in the heart of Diagon Alley. Its current function is the production of broomstick maintenance kits, a respectable if somewhat mundane enterprise. Beginning at first light tomorrow, this establishment will dedicate its efforts solely to thepletion of existing orders, steadfastly refusing any newmissions. The machinery along with our skilled workforce, the factory buildings, and thend upon which it stands ¨C all will be transferred into your capable hands with the utmost haste. However¡ª"

    Bryan raised an eyebrow slightly, waiting silently for Barnah to state his conditions.

    "While the exact nature of your intentions for this alchemy workshop remains a mystery to us," Barnah continued, his voice taking on a note of calcted spection, "I cannot help but surmise that its purpose is linked to the production of yet another of your groundbreaking inventions. Am I correct in this assumption, Mr. Watson?"

    "You want to be involved in the workshop''s future endeavors?"

    Bryan''s lips curled into a smile.

    "This, despite being wholly ignorant of the nature of the business, unable to ascertain whether it will yield bountiful profits or catastrophic losses? Such a proposition seems wildly at odds with the goblins'' notorious penchant for risk aversion, Mr. Barnah."

    "You yourself are our greatest assurance, Mr. Watson¡ª"

    The old goblin chuckled in his aged voice.

    "While the acquisition of a workshop is undoubtedly a crucial first step, we both know it''s just a single piece in a far moreplex puzzle. The realization of your vision will require substantial capital, a meticulously crafted supply chain for raw materials, and robust channels for product promotion and distribution. Such endeavors, I need hardly to remind you, would consume a lot of your valuable time and energy ¨C resources that could be better applied to matters more befitting a wizard of your stature."

    Barnah leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "These logistical challenges, Mr. Watson, happen to be exactly what we excel at. Our expertise in these matters is unparalleled. By allowing us to participate in the future management of the workshop, we can alleviate many of your potential headaches. And in return for this service, what we ask is quite modest¡ª"

    A strange light shed in the old goblin''s eyes.

    "We will not interfere with the workshop''s management decisions ¨C that, I give you my solemn word as a goblin of standing. Our sole requirement is one-tenth of the workshop''s annual profits."

    The saying "wisdomes with age" couldn''t be more apt.

    This old goblin, Gerson Barnah, was willing to risk a substantial sum of Galleons, all for the chance to establish asting business rtionship with Bryan.

    "Your proposal is... intriguing," Bryan said after a moment of contemtion. "I''ll arrange for my friend, Remus Lupin, to liaise with you on the specifics of this arrangement. He''s a werewolf; I trust you''ll find a way to work harmoniously together."

    The old goblin, who had been on the verge of rejoicing at Bryan''s apparent eptance, found his thoughts suddenly derailed by this unexpected piece of information.

    Bryan Watson, who just two years prior had been an unknown young wizard in the magical world, had in an astonishingly brief span of time be a household name across several continents. In the European wizardingmunity especially, he had ascended to a status that rivaled, if not surpassed, that of Albus Dumbledore himself. Given his significant age advantage and the awe-inspiring disy of power he had unleashed on the night of the Quidditch World Cup final, many were convinced that the next half-century ¨C perhaps even longer ¨C would be the era of Bryan Watson in the European magical world.

    And now, this same wizard was casually mentioning a friendship with a werewolf.

    While werewolves might find some eptance in the Americas, their status in Europe was far less favorable. They were universally loathed by official wizarding organizations in every country, treated as little more than dangerous beasts in human form.

    If Albus Dumbledore had made such a im, Barnah might not have been quite so taken aback. Dumbledore was well-known for his entric views and his advocating of the downtrodden. But Bryan Watson? The very foundation of his meteoric rise to fame had been the elimination of the notorious werewolf leader Greyback and his bloodthirsty pack.

    Goblins and werewolves, while both considered outcasts by the wizarding elite, upied very different steps on the socialdder. Through their legendary cunning and financial acumen, goblins had managed to carve out a niche for themselves in the Wizarding world, bing indispensable if not entirely trusted. Werewolves, by stark contrast, faced a far bleaker reality, enduring levels of exclusion and prejudice that made even the goblins'' lot seem enviable byparison.

    The fact that Bryan Watson showed no hesitation, no shame in openly dering his friendship with a werewolf... it spoke volumes.

    To Barnah, it was a clear indication of Watson''s character, his willingness to look beyond societal prejudices and judge individuals on their own merits. This revtion, more than any business deal or magical feat, dramatically increased the old goblin''s enthusiasm and confidence in the possibility of forging a genuine friendship with Bryan Watson.

    "Any friend of Mr. Watson''s is, without question, a friend of the goblin nation," Barnah said, his smile finally reaching his eyes, imbuing it with a warmth that had been absent throughout their negotiations. "I will personally assign Ragnok to oversee this matter. I have the utmost confidence in his ability to work harmoniously with Mr. Lupin."

    The prejudice between goblins and wizards was, of course, a two-way street. Given the wizarding world''s disdain for werewolves, it was only natural that goblins wouldn''t hold them in particrly high regard either. Yet Ragnok, newly tasked with this sensitive assignment, dared not voice even a whisper of dissatisfaction. He bowed deeply to both Master Barnah and Mr. Watson, his one remaining arm pressed tightly to his chest in a gesture of utmost respect and dedication.

    With the thorny issues of negotiation finallyid to rest, the oppressive atmosphere that had hung over the office like a storm cloud began to dissipate. Both parties, each harboring their own hidden agendas and future aspirations, found themselves able to rx atst. The exquisite spread of food, which had until now served as simple set dressing for their high-stakes discussion, finally received the attention it deserved.

    As Ragnok moved to refill their delicate teacups, the fine bone china clinking softly, Bryan seized upon the moment to broach a seemingly innocent topic.

    "Ah, there''s one other matter I''ve been meaning to inquire about," Bryan began, his tone casual. "During my travels through various magical civilizations a few years back ¨C following the Ancient tradition of newly graduated wizards, you understand ¨C I came across a rather interesting piece of information. It rtes to the fate of the wealth left behind by wizards who meet an untimely end without leaving an heir. I heard that in such cases, Gringotts would give up control of these unimed vaults to the Ministry of Magic. Is there any truth to this, I wonder?"

    Barnah who had been savoring a crumb of traditional goblin cuisine with evident relish, involuntarily trembled, causing some food crumbs to fall on the expensive velvet tablecloth.

    "What you describe is indeed in wizardingw, Mr. Watson," Gathering himself, Barnah nodded slowly.

    "It''s a regtion agreed upon by both the goblin nation and the wizards. I can assure you that Gringotts branches across the globe adhere rigorously to this regtion."

    "And yet," Bryan smiled nomittally. "I''ve heard whispers of... alternative methods of handling such delicate matters. Might there be any substance to these rumors, I wonder?"

    Not only Gerson Barnah but even Ragnok and Laddie, who had been dutifully attending to their master, felt the weight of Bryan''s implication settle upon them.

    In truth, the practice Bryan referred to was not as covert as one might expect. Among the upper echelons of goblin society, those who upied positions of power simr to themselves were well aware of the actual procedures employed by branch employees in such cases.

    The reality was far from the neat and tidy process outlined in official documents. Instead, aplex web of collusion had been woven between certain Gringotts employees and their counterparts in various Ministries of Magic. Together, they would systematically take valuable items from the vaults of the heirless dead ¨C priceless antiques, rare magical tomes, stocks in both magical and Mugglepanies, deeds to properties in prime locations.

    These ill-gotten gains would then be hedged through local ck markets, the proceedsundered through aplex series of transactions before being divided among the conspirators, along with whatever gold and Galleons had been stored in the original vaults.

    This was no small-time operation, but an intricate and far-reaching chain of interest that implicated mid to high-level personnel from Ministries of Magic and Gringotts branches across multiple countries.

    For Bryan Watson to raise this issue now, in such a nonchnt manner. It was clear to all present that he had no interest in joining this nefarious enterprise ¨C such methods would be far beneath the dignity of a wizard of his stature.

    "I won''t insult your intelligence by denying it, Mr. Watson," Barnah replied, matching Bryan''s casual tone with practiced ease. "Regarding the situation you''ve described, I concede that there may indeed be some instances of... shall we say, irregr operations."

    Bryan clicked his tongue, his face a masterpiece of feigned disappointment. "How utterly disheartening," hemented, shaking his head slowly. "If only those Ministry officials could channel even a fraction of the energy they expend on lining their own pockets into their actual duties, perhaps they wouldn''t find themselves constantly criticized by the public for their gross ipetence."

    With that pointed observation, the topic was summarily concluded. The remainder of the breakfast was linked to more pleasant subjects ¨C discussions of magical theory, the finer points of goblin craftsmanship, and even a bit of good-natured spection about the uing Triwizard Tournament.

    As the meeting drew to a close, Bryan rose from his seat. In a burst of brilliant me, Fawkes appeared in a shower of golden sparks.

    With a final nod to his hosts, Bryan grasped one of Fawkes'' tail feathers. In the blink of an eye, the wizard and phoenix vanished in a dazzling congration, leaving behind only the lingering scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke.

    For several moments after Bryan''s departure, Ragnok and Laddie remained rooted to the spot, their eyes wide with wonder as they stared at the ce where the legendary Phoenix Fawkes had materialized. But their reverie was short-lived, as the moment Bryan''s silhouette had dissipated into the air, a dark cloud seemed to appear upon Gerson Barnah''s face.

    "Ragnok," the old goblin growled, in a sharp tone,."you are to depart for our British branch immediately. First, conduct a thorough investigation into the matter Mr. Watson so casually mentioned. I want aprehensive list of every goblin and Ministry employee implicated in this... unsavory business. Second,pile detailed records of the wealth they have misappropriated."

    Barnah''s eyes narrowed, conveying the gravity of the situation. "Prepare two copies of your findings. One is to be delivered directly to me, the other sent to Bryan Watson himself. Time is of the essence, Ragnok. This must be done with all possible haste."

    For a moment, surprise flickered across Ragnok''s face. He had always prided himself on his unflinching obedience to orders, but the nature of this task gave him pause.

    "Master Barnah," he said cautiously, "are we truly prepared to expose the British Ministry of Magic in this manner? The repercussions... we stand to make many enemies."

    "Bryan Watson considers this matter to be of great importance," Barnah said with a grave expression. "Perhaps... perhaps this was the true purpose behind his visit today."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0496 Another Visit

    0496 Another Visit

    In the heart of Wiltshire, Ennd, stood the imposing and majestic Malfoy Manor.

    The vast estate was covered in a stunning golden mist as thete afternoon sun started to set, turning the already magnificent mansion into a picture of ethereal beauty. The precious marble bricks, each one meticulously carved with intricate spiral patterns spoke of centuries of magical craftsmanship. The building exuded an air of ssical elegance and unwavering dignity, a testament to the long and illustrious history of the Malfoy family.

    The immactely manicured grounds stretched as far as the eye could see. A flock of dazzling white peacocks, their feathers gleaming like freshly fallen snow, strolled leisurely across the pristinewn. Their quiet pride mirrored that of the manor itself, as if they too were aware of their role in maintaining the Malfoy family''s image of opulence and nobility.

    At the center of the expansive courtyard stood an ornate fountain, its multiple tiers sending chutes of crystalline water into the air. As the golden sunlight filtered through the spray, it created a mesmerizing disy of rainbows that danced and shimmered, adding an almost magical quality to the already enchanting scene. Apart from the gardeners tending to the flowers, there weren''t many visible people in this vast estate.

    However, Despite the tranquil beauty of the estate, an undercurrent of tension thrummed beneath the surface.

    Since the unexpected and unwee visit of the notorious werewolf, Fenrir Greyback, the security measures at Malfoy Manor had been increased by many folds. Invisible to the casual observer, aplex ward of magical defenses now enveloped the entire property, prepared to swiftly and brutally drive out any unwanted invaders.

    In addition to these magical ward protections, vignt wizards lurked in the shadows of the courtyard. These guards, hand-picked for their loyalty and decent magical prowess, stood ready to unleash a barrage of spells as fierce and sudden as a summer storm should anyone dare to trespass upon the Malfoy estate without permission.

    Within the luxurious walls of the vi, servants hurried through the corridors as they made final preparations for the evening''s dinner for the manor''s owners and their soon-to-arrive guest.

    In most respectable pureblood households, such menial tasks would typically fall to house-elves. The Malfoy family had once been no exception to this tradition. However, since the estate''s former house-elf had betrayed them, the manor''s owner refused to let such lowly, inferior creatures set foot in their home again.

    As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grounds, the atmosphere within the vi grew increasingly tense.

    The sudden return of the estate''s owners had caught many of the staff off guard. It was well known that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy spent much of their time away from the manor, tending to their vast business empire that stretched across Europe and even other continents. Their extensivework of investments and enterprises required constant attention to maintain the staggeringly enormous family fortune that had been umted over generations.

    It was rare for the Malfoys to return to the manor unless there was a pressing need to entertain important guests or attend to urgent family matters. Today was evidently such an asion, but what puzzled the servants ¨C and added to the general air of unease ¨C was Mrs. Malfoy''s announcement that they would be hosting only a single guest for dinner.

    In the luxurious banquet hall, with its soaring ceilings and glittering chandeliers, Narcissa Malfoy stood before the assembled staff. Her tall, slender figure was wrapped in robes of the finest silk, their deep emerald hue a striking contrast to her pale skin and white-blonde hair. Despite her ethereal beauty, there was a rigidity to her features that spoke of years of maintaining a facade of superiority and disdain.

    "If there is even the slightest impropriety during tonight''s dinner," Narcissa said, her voice piercing the air like a steel de, each word precisely uttered and tinged with thinly veiled threat, "those responsible for the mishap will find themselves serving a far more... permanent role in the beautification of our garden."

    The implied threat hung heavy in the air as Narcissa''s cold, grey eyes swept over the crowd of petrified servants. Each one stood rigid, hardly daring to breathe lest they incur the wrath of their formidable mistress. With a final, warning nce that seemed to pierce through to their very souls, Narcissa turned on her heel and strode from the room. She traversed the maze-like corridors, passing through the front hall and reception room, finally arriving at the door of the study.

    This study belonged to the head of the Malfoy family¡ªLucius Malfoy¡ªand Narcissa was the only person with the right to enter uninvited. Even their son, Draco would face severe criticism and punishment if he dared to intrude without being summoned.

    As she entered the study, the familiar scent of old parchment and expensive leather enveloped her. The room was dimly lit, heavy curtains drawn against the fading daylight, creating an atmosphere of secrecy and istion. At the far end of the room, behind a massive desk of polished ebony, sat Lucius.

    In one hand, he gripped his ever-present cane ¨C a symbol of his status and a cleverly disguised holder for his wand. The other hand rested on the desk''s surface, few inches from a piece of parchment that seemed to hold hisplete attention.

    To most, Lucius''s expression would have appeared impassive, with a mask of aristocratic indifference. But Narcissa, who had shared her life with this man for decades, immediately sensed the trace of unease that tensed his shoulders and tightened the corners of his mouth. Her gaze followed his to the letter on the desk, and she quickly averted her eyes, as if just the sight of it could bring about some terrible cmity.

    "I''ve given the instructions, dear," Narcissa said, her voice softer now, tinged with a warmth reserved only for her husband and son. "There won''t be any problems."

    The sound of his wife''s voice seemed to stir Lucius from his statue-like motionlessness. He grunted softly in acknowledgment, a far cry from his usual eloquence, but his gaze remained fixed upon the letter as if it held the key to some great and terrible secret.

    In the privacy of her husband''s study, away from the prying eyes of servants and the expectations of society, Narcissa allowed her carefully constructed facade to slip. The haughty demeanor that she presented to the world melted away, reced by a genuine concern for the man before her. She moved around the desk,ing to stand beside Lucius. Her pale, slender fingers found their way to his shoulder, offering a gentle, reassuring touch.

    Lucius, seemingly bing aware that his own anxiety was affecting his wife, finally tore his gaze away from the letter. He withdrew the hand that had been resting on the desk and ced it over Narcissa''s palm.

    If the servants of Malfoy Manor could have witnessed this moment of vulnerability between their master and mistress, they would have been shocked. The idea that a mere letter could cause such unease in their masters would have seemed absurd.

    Time seemed to havee to a standstill in the study. Neither Lucius nor Narcissa spoke, their gazes simply met in a silent exchange of mutual support and shared concerns.

    After a long while, Lucius slowly removed his hand from his wife''s. He slowly reached down and opened a drawer in his desk. Narcissa watched with puzzled curiosity as her husband withdrew a silver spoon.

    The handle of the spoon was adorned with an intricately engraved peacock.

    Narcissa''s brow furrowed in confusion. She recognized the spoon as one from their own kitchens, part of a set that had been in the Malfoy family for generations. But why would Lucius have taken away a piece of cutlery in his private desk?

    "During dinnerter," Lucius said, his voice low and strained, "keep this spoon by your side. If anything unexpected happens, grab it immediately."

    "Is this a Portkey?" Narcissa''s asked, her eyebrows drawing together in a mixture of surprise and understanding. "You think¡ª"

    "Just in case, Narcissa," Lucius interrupted, his face notably paler than usual as he pressed the spoon firmly into his wife''s palm.

    The true purpose of Bryan Watson''s imminent visit had been a topic of intense discussion between the Malfoys during their hurried journey home. Neither of them truly believed Watson''s stated intention of discussing Draco''s academic progress at Hogwarts, yet neither of them had any idea about his true intentions.

    The most likely scenario, they had reluctantly agreed, was that this visit was somehow connected to their small scheme at the Quidditch World Cup, and although Watson had verbally forgiven them that night, neither Lucius nor Narcissa were naive enough to believe that the matter was truly settled and no one could be sure if Watson might change his mind.

    To this day, Lucius Malfoy remained baffled as to how Bryan Watson had uncovered information about his involvement in the scheme. He had suspected Kakus Fawley or perhaps one of the hired bounty hunters, but a thorough examination of the magically binding employment contracts had revealed no breaches. It seemed highly unlikely that anyone privy to the inner workings of the n could have been the source of the leak.

    But it wasn''t just this particr incident that filled Lucius Malfoy with dread.

    While the Ministry of Magic had publicly imed that the mysterious witch who had dueled with Bryan Watson and the group of masked wizards were in cahoots, the Malfoys knew this to be a tant fabrication. That woman ¨C whoever she was ¨C had not been part of their hired group. What truly horrified them was that after defeating that Mysterious witch, Bryan Watson had gone on to overpower that faceless dark wizard.

    When that faceless dark wizard fell to Watson''s power, Lucius and Narcissa, blending into the panicked crowd, had felt an unmistakable change in their Dark Marks. It was a sensation they had not experienced in years, one that sent chills down their spines and dredged up memories they had long tried to suppress.

    In the aftermath of that chaotic night, neither Lucius nor Narcissa had dared to discuss the implications of what they had felt. But in the privacy of their own thoughts, they both knew exactly what it meant, and the knowledge of this filled them with terror.

    The wizarding world atrge believed that the Dark Lord''s power had been irreversibly broken by Harry Potter on that night in Godric''s Hollow. While most epted that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hadn''t been entirely vanquished, it was widely assumed that he had been reduced to little more than a memory, a boogeyman to frighten children and remind adults of darker times.

    Only Albus Dumbledore continued to insist that the threat of Lord Voldemort''s return was real and imminent. For years, Lucius Malfoy had scoffed at Dumbledore''s assertions, dismissing them as the ramblings of a man desperate to maintain his relevance in a changing world.

    But that dismissive attitude had begun to crumble during his first encounter with Bryan Watson at the Leaky Cauldron. The young man''s words had stirred the long-buried fear in Lucius''s heart. In the year and more that followed, Lucius had tried desperately to convince himself that his worries were groundless, nothing more than the product of an overactive imagination and too many sleepless nights.

    Then came the Quidditch World Cup final, and with it, the appearance of that indescribable dark wizard. In that moment, all of Lucius''s carefully constructed self-assurances had crumbled to dust, leaving him facing a reality he had long wanted to deny.

    In his youth, Lucius had been a loyal and devoted Death Eater, as had his wife. They had willingly pledged their allegiance to the Dark Lord, drawn in by promises of power and a new world order that would see purebloods restored to their ''rightful'' ce at the top of wizarding society. It had been an intoxicating vision, a dream that seemed tantalizingly within reach.

    But now, yearster, with the weight of family responsibilities and Draco''s future weighing heavily upon him, Lucius found himself trapped between two equally terrifying possibilities. The path before him seemed to narrow with each passing day, leading inevitably towards a confrontation he was ill-prepared to face.

    If Watson''s words were to be believed ¨C and Lucius had no reason to doubt them ¨C then he had inadvertently damaged something of great importance to the Dark Lord. If the Dark Lord indeed returns to power and summons his old followers, Lucius knew with chilling certainty that he could expect no mercy; the Malfoy family could not expect forgiveness. The Dark Lord had never been a forgiving person, a fact that Lucius was all too painfully aware of.

    Yet the alternative seemed equally bleak. Lucius himself was a sworn enemy of Dumbledore. And Watson, despite his cordial demeanor, had shown a distinct coldness towards the Malfoy family. If it weren''t for Watson''s slight fondness for Draco, he knew that his family''s position would be even more precarious than it already was.

    As these thoughts swirled through his mind, Lucius found himself seriously contemting the need for an escape n. Thendscape of the wizarding world was shifting beneath his feet, and for the first time in his life, he felt truly out of his depth.

    "Watson can''t possibly move against the Malfoy family, dear," Narcissa''s voice cut through the heavy silence, pulling Lucius back from the brink of his dark daydreams. "Neither Fudge nor Dumbledore would allow him to do so¡ª"

    Narcissa''s concerns, while valid, hadn''t delved deeply into the worst-case scenarios as her husband''s had. Her focus remained primarily on the immediate threat posed by the events at the Quidditch World Cup. As she gently squeezed her husband''s hand, offering whatfort she could, her mind raced to find a solution.

    Lucius opened his mouth to respond, to share some extent of his fears with his wife, when a sharp knock at the study door cut through the tension. Both Malfoys stiffened, their years of cultivating a public persona of cool detachment kicking in almost instinctively.

    "Enter," Lucius called out, his voice steady despite the turmoil roiling within him.

    The door creaked open, revealing one of the manor''s servants, a young man whose name Lucius could never quite remember. The servant''s face was pale, his eyes darting nervously between his master and mistress as he delivered his message.

    "Begging your pardon, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy," the servant began, his voice trembling slightly under the weight of theirbined gaze, "but I''ve been sent to inform you that Mr. Bryan Watson has... well, he''s suddenly appeared at the estate''s main gate, sir. He''s requesting entry. Should we... should we wee him in?"

    For a moment, the only sound in the study was the ticking of the clock, each second feeling like an eternity as Lucius and Narcissa processed this. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, Lucius sprang into action.

    "I''ll go greet him myself¡ª" Lucius said, rising from his chair with swiftness. His hand tightened around the serpent-headed cane, knuckles white with tension.

    Narcissa recognized the barely concealed panic in Lucius''s eyes. Without hesitation, she stepped forward, her slim fingers intertwining with his. "I''lle with you, dear," she said, her voice low and filled with determination. "Whatever happens, we''ll face it together."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0497 The Malfoys (BIG CHAPTER)

    0497 The Malfoys (BIG CHAPTER)

    The pale sun struggled just above the horizon, its feeble rays striving desperately to send life-giving warmth and illumination to the innumerable creatures inhabiting the earth below.

    A servant, his face contorted with panic and his breathing in ragged gasps, ran frantically away from the imposing manor. Left behind, an iron gate of intricate design and formidable size still kept Bryan isted outside the grand estate.

    However, Bryan paid no attention to the barrier before him, he simply turned around, his hands sped loosely behind his back and a smile on his face, surveying the vast, twn and river outside the estate, as well as the distant fields gleaming golden.

    Fawkes remained perched on Bryan''s shoulder, seemingly interested in the white peacocks strolling through the garden inside the manor. It lowered its head, gazing at Bryan with eyes like clear rubies.

    "Oh, no¡ª" Bryan had been contentedly admiring the tranquil suburban scenery, but his words showed he already knew exactly what had captured Fawkes'' interest. With a voice tinged with gentle amusement, he continued, "We haven''t been given permission yet, Fawkes. It''s impolite to barge into someone else''s home."

    Fawkes'' beautiful eyes rolled upwards, showing a bit of white in a very human-like expression of its feelings upon hearing these words.

    The peaceful moment was abruptly shattered as the Malfoys arrived on the scene far more quickly than Bryan had anticipated. The well-dressed couple came running from the luxurious vi, their usualposure notably absent as they hurried towards their unexpected and undoubtedly unwee visitor. Their eyes immediately locked onto the figure of Bryan Watson and the conspicuousrge bird perched upon his shoulder.

    "We''re terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, Professor Watson¡ª" Lucius Malfoy''s normally smooth voice was slightly breathless from his hurried approach. Even from a distance of over sixty feet, his anxiety was palpable. With a casual wave of his hand the manor''s great iron gate began to open. Unlike the creaking, rusty gates of Hogwarts, this barrier parted silently.

    As the couple drew nearer, Lucius Malfoy''s sharp eyes finally recognized therge bird perched on Watson''s shoulder as Dumbledore''s phoenix. A flicker of additional concern passed across his face as he considered the implications.

    <em>''Could it be that Dumbledore had something to do with Watson''s unexpected visit?''</em> The thought shed briefly through Lucius''s mind, a spark of paranoia in an already tense situation. But he quickly dismissed it, recognizing that there was no point in pondering this now.

    Bryan reluctantly tore his gaze away from the pleasant view that had captivated him. He turned slowly to face the approaching Malfoy couple. His face was a mask of polite indifference as he observed their slightly disheveled appearance, noting the beads of sweat that dotted foreheads despite the cool morning air.

    Then, his keen gaze was drawn to an unexpected detail¡ªthe silver spoon Mrs. Malfoy was clutching in her hand. After ncing at it twice, he raised an eyebrow slightly.

    "This is my wife, Narcissa. You''ve already met her, Professor Watson¡ª" Lucius began, his words trailing off as he noticed Bryan''s pointed nce at the spoon. The Malfoys, who had carelessly forgotten to hide this visibly paled. Lucius hurried to cover up theirpse, "She was just arranging things in the dining room."

    Bryan, who had maintained a stoic silence up to this point, finally showed a faint curve at the corner of his lips. He nodded slightly to Narcissa Malfoy and suddenly became very economical with his words, saying,

    "Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Malfoy¡ª"

    Only when Bryan Watson began to speak did the Malfoy couple feel the crushing weight on their shoulders lighten somewhat. Lucius, seizing upon this moment of rtive calm, quickly invited Bryan into the estate and began leading him towards the vi.

    "Wait¡ª"

    As they walked along the snaking path towards the manor, Bryan suddenly came to an abrupt halt. They had reached a fork in the path, one way leading directly to the house, the other meandering through the extensive gardens. Bryan turned to face the Malfoy couple; whose faces had once again drained of color at this unexpected pause. He gave them a reassuring smile, though it did little to ease their anxiety.

    "Before dinner begins, I''d like to take a walk with Fawkes in the garden¡ª"

    Bryan''s gaze shifted to Fawkes, who was stretching its and looking around with undisguised curiosity and said with a smile, "You know, this phoenix spends most of its time cooped up in Dumbledore''s office. It doesn''t get many chances to stretch its wings¡ª"

    "Oh, of course, that''s no problem. Feel free to look around¡ª" Lucius Malfoy''s response came a beat too quickly. Despite being the master of the manor, he was behaving more like a nervous guest in front of Bryan. His words were stiff,cking their usual polish, and he discreetly nced at his wife Narcissa, giving her a meaningful look. Although Narcissa understood her husband''s hint, her face showed clear reluctance.

    Bryan also noticed this silent exchange. His smile grew a touch wider. "If you have matters to attend to, Mrs. Malfoy, please go ahead. I don''t mind¡ª"

    To be honest, Lucius would have preferred to see Bryan arrive at his home with a menacing demeanor. Such open hostility would have been easier to deal with, easier to counter. But this? This elegant and gracious manner, coupled with an undercurrent of unspoken threat?

    It made Lucius even more anxious, setting his nerves on edge. Nevertheless, Lucius was eager to get his wife away from Watson. He red at Narcissa, his eyes conveying a silent but urgent message. Finally, reluctantly, Narcissa took her leave, her steps slow and hesitant as she made her way back to the manor.

    This small gesture did not go unnoticed by Bryan. As Bryan''s meaningful gaze fell upon him, Lucius felt his mouth go dry. His lips moved, but no words came out, leaving him struggling in ufortable silence.

    Lucius Malfoy, who had long dealt with the upper echelons of European magical society, prided himself on his ability to navigate the most treacherous social and political waters. He knew how to please greedy politicians with just the rightbination of ttery and implied promises. He had mastered the art of gaining favor with renowned wizards, ying to their vanities and insecurities with practiced ease. He even had the audacity to plot Albus Dumbledore''s removal from Hogwarts, a scheme that required nerves of steel and a masterful grasp of magical politics.

    But in front of Bryan Watson, all these skills, honed over decades of maneuvering through the highest levels of wizarding society, seemed to have suddenly vanished. The only thing he could do was obey, like a puppet dangling from invisible strings.

    Perhaps, Lucius thought with a touch of bitterness, it was because this young man potentially possessed the power to defeat the Dark Lord himself. And unlike Albus Dumbledore, with his lofty principles and hypocritical charades, Bryan Watson didn''t seem to be bound by many rules or pretenses. He was an unknown quantity, a wild card in a game where Lucius had thought he knew all the yers.

    This unpredictability,bined with his immense power, made him a force to be reckoned with¡ªand one that Lucius was not entirely sure how to handle.

    Having received Bryan''s permission, Fawkes let out a joyful cry that echoed across the grounds. The phoenix spread its magnificent wings and with a graceful leap, it left Bryan''s shoulder, swooping excitedly towards the peacocks that had been peacefully pecking at the lushwn.

    Those normally graceful and proud birds, upon Fawkes'' approach, stood frozen in ce. Their usual regal demeanor vanished in an instant, reced by a stillness born of instinctive fear. It was as if they had seen some terrifying creature from their worst nightmares, rather than the beautiful phoenix that was gliding towards them.

    As the two men strolled along the intricately designed stone path that made its way between meticulously maintained flower beds and perfectly manicuredwns, Bryan turned his head slightly. His eyes, sharp and prating, focused on Lucius as he asked in a teasing tone, "Did you think I came here to raze Malfoy Manor to the ground?"

    Lucius broke out in a cold sweat that had nothing to do with the mild morning temperature. He seemed to have inherited the mannerisms of a house-elf, his usually proud posture giving way to a slight hunch, his voice taking on a tone of excessive reverence as he replied, "You wouldn''t do that¡ª"

    Pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts, Lucius continued, his words carefully chosen, "A remarkable wizard like yourself would never break your own promise."

    Bryan''s gaze deepened as he observed Lucius Malfoy, his eyes seeming to peer into the very soul of the man before him. After a moment of contemtion, he shook his head slightly, a gesture that could have meant many things.

    It had to be said that Lucius Malfoy was indeed a clever man, sufficiently smooth and adaptable to navigate even the most treacherous of social and political waters. The respect he showed towards Bryan seemed toe entirely from within, rather than due to any external factors or coercion. No wonder even a madman as difficult to please as Voldemort had trusted Lucius; otherwise, he wouldn''t have entrusted him with keeping his precious Horcrux.

    Lucius had hoped his carefully worded response would elicit some reaction from Bryan Watson, perhaps a hint as to the true purpose of this unexpected visit. But to his mounting frustration and anxiety, Bryan neither revealed his intentions nor expressed any new thoughts about the Malfoy family. Instead, he simply continued walking forward, his pace unhurried and his manner rxed, as if he were merely enjoying a pleasant morning stroll.

    Indeed, Bryan seemed to be genuinely appreciating the scenery that surrounded them. His gaze roamed over the well-arrangedndscape within the estate, taking in every detail with apparent interest. To get a better view of the expansive grounds, he even walked up a slight incline on the perfectly maintainedwn his eyes taking in every detail of the surroundingyout.

    The silence stretched between them, growing more ufortable with each passing moment. Finally, unable to contain his curiosity and anxiety any longer, Lucius broke the silence. "If there''s anything you''d like to know, Professor Watson, I''d be happy to exin."

    "I''m observing theyout and terrain of this estate¡ª" Bryan''s response was casual, almost spontaneous. He stood with his hands behind his back, facing the cool evening breeze that had begun to pick up. But his next words made Lucius''s heart race, pounding so hard he was sure Watson must be able to hear it.

    "If one day Voldemort were to make this his Headquarters¡ªoh, don''t rush to deny it, Lucius, I''m saying if such a thing were to happen¡ªI''m considering how best to approach an attack on Malfoy Manor."

    <strong>Whoosh¡ª</strong>

    The gentle breeze that had been caressing the day, a soft whisper of air that had yfully ruffled leaves and cooled sun-warmed skin, suddenly transformed. In an instant, it became a fierce gale, a roaring beast that tore across thendscape with unrelenting force.

    Bryan squinted against the sudden gale. His eyes, sharp and discerning, peered towards the horizon where the wind seemed to originate. There, at the very edge of the visible world where sky met earth, darkness was already encroaching upon the dim heavens, spreading with rming rapidity in all directions, as if eager to devour thest remnants of light.

    Lucius, standing beside Bryan, was not oblivious to this dramatic shift in both weather and atmosphere. His temple throbbed visibly, a physical manifestation of the stress that coursed through his body. With great effort, he forced his features into what he hoped was a convincing smile.

    "This is a joke, right, Professor Watson?" Lucius managed to say, his words nearly lost in the howling wind. He resisted the urge to cough as the gale filled his mouth with dust and debris, the taste of earth and impending storm bitter on his tongue. Fighting to maintain hisposure, he continued, "Everyone knows the Dark Lord was defeated by Harry Potter. He can never return to us, and the Malfoy family¡ª"

    Lucius paused, taking a deep breath that did little to calm his racing heart. His face, already pale from stress and fear, seemed to lose what little color remained.

    With a voice that trembled almost imperceptibly, he pressed on, desperation coloring his words, "We''ve been proven to have no connection to that Dark Lord. The Ministry has confirmed those baseless rumors were false. Even if that person were to return one day, the Malfoy family would not associate with him. He could never use Malfoy Manor as his headquarters!"

    Bryan, unmoved by Lucius''s protestations, shifted his prating gaze from the ominous horizon to Lucius Malfoy''s face, raising an eyebrow.

    Then, with a chuckle devoid of any real humor¡ªa sound that seemed to carry with it the chill of a grave¡ªBryan shook his head.. Without furtherment, he continued walking forward, leaving Lucius to stew in his mounting anxiety.

    As Bryan moved away, Lucius''s mind raced, a torrent of questions and fears threatening to overwhelm him. What did Bryan Watson know? The question pounded in his head with each beat of his frantically racing heart. Had Watson somehow discerned that the faceless dark shadow he had defeated at the Quidditch Final that night could very well have been the Dark Lord himself?

    Logically, Bryan Watson shouldn''t have known this crucial piece of information. He didn''t bear the Dark Mark, that Lucius and his fellow Death Eaters carried. Nor did he possess the unbreakable, hidden connection with the Dark Lord. And yet, if Watson had managed to deduce that it was Lucius who had dispatched someone to attack the stadium¡ª

    The first-person Lucius''s panicked mind thought of was Severus Snape.

    From his son Draco, Lucius was well aware that Severus and Bryan Watson shared a close rtionship. Coincidentally, or perhaps not so coincidentally, Severus harbored the same suspicions about the Dark Lord''s potential return.

    The only w in this theory was that Severus hadn''t been present at the Quidditch stadium on that night. Even if he had sensed the change, he might not have realized the true cause of the Mark''s reaction. This uncertainty gave Lucius a small measure offort, but it was fleeting, overwhelmed by the tide of fear and doubt that began to engulf him.

    Suddenly, the tense atmosphere was shattered by a chorus of startled cries erupting from near thergest fountain in the manor. The sound, a cacophony of squawks and screeches, cut through the howling wind. Bryan halted his forward march, turning to investigate the source of themotion. What he found was a scene of chaos, with Fawkes at its epicenter.

    Fawkes apparently misinterpreting the scattered peacocks'' frantic attempts to flee as some sort of game, had decided to join in the ''fun''. In a disy of its power, Fawkes spewed a small jet of magical me. The fire, beautiful and terrible in equal measure, had found its mark on the mboyant tail feathers of several unfortunate birds.

    In an instant, aided by the strong wind that whipped across the grounds, the mes spread with rming speed. They raced over the entire bodies of these unlucky peacocks, transforming the birds intoical, albeit dangerous, balls of fire. Thewn, once a picture of manicured perfection, was now a chaotic scene filled with fleeing ''turkeys on fire''.

    Lucius''s face darkened considerably at this unexpected turn of events. The destruction of his prized peacocks, symbols of the Malfoy family''s wealth and status, was yet another misfortune in what was rapidly bing a day of unrelenting stress and loss. Even Bryan, usually soposed, couldn''t entirely suppress his reaction. His lips twitched.

    With a swift, fluid motion, Bryan drew his wand from his sleeve. Despite being half a mile away from the unfolding disaster, his aim was urate. He made a sharp, decisive shing motion with his wand.

    In response to his silentmand, the water in the fountain suddenly surged to life. Multiple jets of water rose into the air and with absolute uracy, they arced through the air and soaked the ''fire turkeys'', extinguishing the magical mes and saving the unfortunate birds from further harm.

    "Don''t be naughty¡ª" Bryan''s voice broke through the howling wind. It reached the ears of Fawkes, who now looked sheepish.

    After this small but chaoticmotion, Bryan no longer felt like strolling across the vast Malfoy estate. He nced up at the sky, now gloomy on one side, and stopped in his tracks.

    "Have you heard about some pureblood families'' businesses being invaded by unknown individuals recently?" Bryan asked, his tone deceptively casual.

    Malfoy''s mind, still preupied with the potential crisis that threatened to overthrow his family and endanger Narcissa and Draco¡ªperhaps as soon as tomorrow¡ªtook several long seconds to process this sudden change in topic. When Bryan''s words finally prated the fog of his anxiety, Lucius found himself momentarily at a loss.

    For a businessman of Lucius Malfoy''s caliber and connections, the daily influx of information was vast and varied. Rumors and whispers of business dealings, both legitimate and shadowy, were asmon as breathing. What Bryan Watson had just mentioned, though somewhat surprising, didn''t immediately strike Lucius as particrly urgent or rming.

    "I''ve heard some rumors¡ª" Lucius began, his voice trailing off as his quick mind began to race, analyzing the possible implications of Bryan''s query.

    In those few seconds of bewilderment, a sh of insight seemed to strike Lucius. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly as he stared into Bryan''s unfathomable gaze, a look of surprise shing across his features before he schooled his expression back to careful neutrality.

    When he spoke again, his tone was deliberately nonchnt. "But the Malfoy family''s businesses in Ennd haven''t encountered such incidents, so I didn''t pay much attention¡ª"

    It wasn''t that the Malfoy enterprises hadn''t been targeted¡ªit was that any such intrusions hadn''t yet been discovered.

    Remus had been far from ipetent in his covert investigations. He had simply had a stroke of bad luck. Over the past few days, through various channels both magical and mundane, Remus had painstakingly mapped out the unknown businesses of pureblood wizard families throughout magical Britain. Only the most paranoid and cautious of these families, those who concealed their business dealings away in the depths of Gringotts vaults, had managed to keep their secrets from Remus''s determined probing.

    Before the skypletely lost its luster, an owl rode the surging waves of encroaching darkness towards Malfoy Manor. It circled in the sky a few times before making a sharp dive towards Bryan in the garden.

    Lucius, his curiosity piqued but wary of appearing too interested, stepped back a few paces. He didn''t want Bryan Watson to think he was prying into matters that didn''t concern him. However, when he saw the pleased smile that curved Bryan''s lips after unfolding the letter¡ªa letter clearly longer than a standard piece of parchment¡ªLucius felt his curiosity surged again.

    "Tonight, find someone to cause some chaos in one of the Malfoy family''s workshops," Bryan said, his tone casual as if he were discussing about the weather. His eyes fixed on Lucius as he continued, "Tomorrow, you''ll escort this troublemaker to the Ministry."

    After a pause, Bryan asked casually. "Any problems with that?"

    Lucius realized that Bryan Watson''s visit was a move to protect someone, someone who had been acting on Watson''s orders, someone who had been causing trouble in secret.

    If Watson wasing to the Malfoy family to provide cover, it meant that this person''s identity had been exposed. They might even now be in Ministry custody.

    The question of who this person could be burned in Lucius''s mind.

    Lucius pursed his lips, his mind racing through possibilities. But even as he spected, a part of him recognized the futility of guessing. This was not some mystery to be unraveled through deduction alone¡ªit was a very easy thing to find out. If the person had indeed been detained by the Ministry, their identity would be a matter of record, easily discovered through the right channels.

    Yet, even as he realized this, Lucius found his thoughts drawn to an even more intriguing question. Why was Watson doing this? What was the ultimate goal behind these investigations? Was he searching for something specific, or was this part of arger, moreplex scheme?

    Lucius''s brow furrowed deeply as he racked his brains, But as his gaze inadvertently met Bryan Watson''s deep purple eyes¡ªLucius felt his body tremble involuntarily and cold sweat immediately beaded on his forehead.

    In that moment, Lucius realized that the question of whether to refuse or agree to Watson''s ''request'' was not a question at all. It was a foregone conclusion, a choice that had been made the moment Watson set foot on Malfoy property.

    Lucius Malfoy, for all his wealth and influence, for all the power he wielded in the magical world, had no right to refuse. Not to mention the deadly leverage Bryan Watson had over him. If Watson decided to take his life, Lucius knew with chilling certainty that he would have no means of resistance. And perhaps even more terrifying was the knowledge that if Watson were determined to do so, he would aplish it silently, leaving no trace, no evidence.

    "Well then¡ª" Bryan''s voice cut through Lucius''s spiraling thoughts like a knife through butter. Receiving the expected acquiescence, he nodded with evident satisfaction.

    With a soft call that was nearly lost in the howling wind, Bryan summoned Fawkes from the distance. The phoenix appeared on his shoulder in a burst of me that momentarily illuminated the gloomy garden.

    Bryan turned to face Lucius, a smile appearing on his lips that did not reach his eyes. With a nod that seemed both farewell and a warning, he spoke, his words carrying easily despite the storm that begun to rage around them, "Thank you for your support, Mr. Malfoy. I''ll be leaving now¡ª"

    "Leaving?" The word escaped Lucius''s lips before he could stop it, his carefully cultivated mask ofposure slipped for a moment to reveal the confusion and fear beneath. "But... the banquet¡ª"

    "I''m well aware that I''m not a wee guest, Mr. Malfoy¡ª" Bryan''s words were apanied by a light chuckle. "I''ll leave now, and you won''t need to risk breaking thew by having your wife use an unregistered Portkey."

    The casual mention of the portkey sent a jolt of fear through Lucius. How much did Watson know?

    "Wait!"

    The word burst from Lucius''s lips, driven by a surge of panic that overwhelmed his usual caution. But as that intimidatingly heavy gaze fell upon him once more, Lucius realized he had no clear purpose for stopping Watson. His outcry had been purely instinctive, a desperate grab at understanding in a world that suddenly seemed to be slipping from his control.

    Observing the uneasy Lucius Malfoy, Bryan disyed a remarkable level of patience. His posture rxed, as he quietly waited for Lucius to gather his thoughts.

    "If¡ª"

    Lucius Malfoy¡ªDraco''s father, the proud head of the Malfoy family, a renowned figure in the European magical world¡ªseemed to shrink before Bryan''s eyes leaving behind a man who looked small, vulnerable, and terribly afraid.

    Lucius''s face, already pale from the stress of their encounter, now took on an almost ghostly sallowness. It was an expression more befitting a small wizard about to graduate, worried about his future prospects, than the powerful and influential man Lucius Malfoy was known to be.

    "If..." Lucius continued, each word seeming to cost him great effort, "if one day, that person reallyes back, Mr. Watson, would you be willing to protect the Malfoy family?"

    As if in response to the gravity of the moment, the night wind howled fiercer than ever. It tore across the manicuredwns of Malfoy Manor, whipping the branches of ancient trees into a frenzy and sending leaves spiraling into the darkening sky.

    Bryan''s response, when it came, was not immediate. He seemed to consider Lucius''s words carefully, his deep purple eyes unreadable as they bore into Lucius''s own.

    "I only protect those who are worth protecting, Malfoy¡ª"

    With a softugh in these words, Bryan Watson''s figure and voice dissipated into the wind.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0498 Intentions

    0498 Intentions

    Bryan had no intention of staying for the carefully prepared dinner at the Malfoy residence. He knew from the start that he wasn''t a wee guest. However, Narcissa''s ''borately designed'' spoon portkey did amuse him somewhat.

    Bryan had always thought highly of Lucius Malfoy. Despite his checkered past and many ideas that conflicted with Bryan''s own, there was no denying that Lucius Malfoy was a clear-headed, intelligent man.

    Although he had worked for Voldemort in his youth and was once deeply trusted by him, Lucius was different from the infamous, deranged Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban. Bryan could see that in Lucius Malfoy''s heart, family and lineage were far more important than loyalty to Voldemort. It was just that he now found himself in a difficult position to find a way to extricate himself without losing everything.

    The bonds of his past choices, the expectations of his pureblood peers, and the looming shadow of Voldemort''s potential return all werebined to keep Lucius ensnared in a perilous bnce.

    As Bryan contemted theseplexities, he felt a sense of reassurance. Dealing with intelligent individuals, even those with whom one disagreed, always made negotiations smoother. He was confident that Lucius, despite any initial resistance, would not cause trouble regarding the matter of Remus.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    "Sorry, Fawkes, you''re not suited for appearing in crowded ces¡ª" Fawkes fluttered, trying tond on Bryan''s shoulder, but was blocked by Bryan. Fawkes'' ruby-like eyes showed clear dissatisfaction.

    Bryan couldn''t help but smile at the bird''s almost human-like disy of emotion.

    "Why don''t you find some amusement for yourself?" Bryan suggested with a light smile. "There''s no need to rush back to Hogwarts just yet."

    With a soft whoosh of disced air, Fawkes took flight, its magnificent tail feathers trailing fire-like embers that quickly faded into the night sky. Bryan watched the phoenix disappear into the distance. Then, with a small shake of his head, he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

    Carefully, Bryan surveyed his surroundings. The narrow alley gradually gave way to the more open expanse of Diagon Alley. The cobblestone street stretched out before him, lined with varied array of shops that catered to every magical need imaginable. Despite theteness of the hour, a few witches and wizards still wandered along the street, window shopping or hurrying topletest-minute errands.

    Across the way, the famous Leaky Cauldron stood as it had for centuries. Its battered sign creaking gently in the evening breeze.

    Fortunately, the attention of passing wizards was focused on the bustling Diagon Alley, and no one noticed that the renowned Bryan Watson was among them. However, this tranquility ended as soon as he entered the grimy hall of the Leaky Cauldron.

    Tom, the nearly bald innkeeper whose wrinkled face bore resemnce to a shriveled walnut, was in the midst of a conversation with a short elderly wizard wearing an oversized top hat. Several unsavory-looking old wizards sat in the corner, sipping sherry from small sses. One of them, with a long pipe, was filling the hall with smoke.

    The innkeeper nced casually at the customer entering through the back door. His jaw dropped, and his rheumy eyes widened to an almostical degree. Without a word of apology to the small wizard he''d been conversing with, Tom practically vaulted over the bar, his wrinkled hands trembling with excitement.

    "Mr. W-Watson!" Tom eximed, his voice cracking with emotion. He looked as though he might faint from the sheer honor of Bryan''s presence. "What an extraordinary pleasure! How may I be of service to you this fine evening?"

    The effect of Bryan''s arrival rippled through the pub like a stone dropped in a still pond. Conversations ceased mid-sentence, jugs were set down with soft thuds, and all eyes turned towards the entrance.

    In the corner, the group of rough-looking wizards seemed to shrink into themselves, lowering their heads one by one as Bryan''s gentle yet prating gaze swept over them. The wizard with the pipe even hastily stuffed the long-pipe into his sleeve.

    "It''s been quite some time, Tom," Bryan responded warmly, his voice carrying easily through the now-silent pub. "I''d like a private room, as I''ll be meeting someone to discuss important matterster. Of course, I might need something to eat before that¡ª"

    As Bryan spoke, his mind drifted back to the summer when Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. At Fudge''s insistence, Bryan had taken up temporary residence at the Leaky Cauldron, apparently to keep an eye on Harry, who had run away from his Muggle rtives. During that time, Bryan had be quite familiar with the ins and outs of the old pub, and with Tom himself. However, he noted with some amusement, the innkeeper''s eagerness to please him had increased exponentially since then.

    Every pair of eyes in the pub followed Bryan and Tom as they made their way towards the private rooms. The gathered witches and wizards watched with a mixture of awe and barely concealed curiosity. Many seemed to be wrestling with the desire to approach Bryan, to shake his hand or engage him in conversation. But there seemed to be a ''repelling aura'' around Bryan Watson. Even until Bryan disappeared from view, no one dared to act on their intentions.

    Almost in the blink of an eye, a knock sounded at the door of Bryan''s private room. Tom entered, bncing a tray that was piled precariously high with variety of drinks. Surprisingly, there was hardly any food to be seen amidst the bottles and sses.

    "Oh, Mr. Watson," Tom began, his voice quivering with barely contained excitement. "These are all from the patrons in the pub. Everyone out there is moring to buy you a drink!"

    Bryan had encountered simr situations before and had developed a graceful way of handling them. He skillfully reached into his robe and pulled out a handful of gleaming gold Galleons cing them on Tom''s tray with a gentle smile.

    "Please convey my heartfelt thanks to them all, Tom," Bryan said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "However, I can''t ept such generosity without reciprocation. These Galleons should be enough to provide everyone in the hall with a ss of your finest Firewhisky. My treat, as a token of my gratitude for their warm wee."

    Tom''s eyes widened even further. He bowed so low that his nose nearly touched the tray he was carrying. "You''re a true gentleman, Mr. Watson!" he eximed, his voice thick with respect. "Such generosity! I''ll see to it right away, sir!"

    With practiced care, Tom backed out of the room, closing the door with a soft click. Momentster, the muffled sounds of wild cheering prated the thick wooden door, bringing a genuine smile to Bryan''s face.

    When the clock hanging on the mottled, grayish-white wall of the private room showed one minute to seven, the sound of hurried high heels clicking on the wooden floor suddenly came from the corridor outside. Bryan picked up a napkin and dabbed at his mouth; just as he made the mess on the table disappear, there was a knock on the door.

    Without waiting for a response, the door swung open, revealing a figure that could only be described as a riot of color and extravagance.

    "Oh, Bryan Watson!"

    Rita Skeeter swept into the room like a tropical storm. Her choice of attire was, as always, mboyant that bordered on the outrageous. A robe in the most vivid shade of banana yellow clung to her frame, its brightness almost painful to look at in the dim lighting of the private room. Her long nails were painted a dazzling pink, her eye shadow a riot of colors, and her hair still in borate curls.

    Of course, Rita Skeeter would be iplete without her signature essory ¨C the crocodile-skin handbag that was as much a part of her persona as her Quick-Quotes Quill.

    It was clear that Rita hadpletely disregarded ¨C or perhaps conveniently forgotten ¨C the events surrounding the Greyback incident. Her face showed no trace of the animosity or fear that one might expect given theirst encounter. Instead, she beamed at Bryan with an expression of utter delight, as if he were an old friend she''d been longing to see.

    With a curl, Rita mmed the door shut behind her, Her gaze locked onto Bryan, filled with an almost predatory gleam of anticipation.

    "Good evening, Rita," Bryan greeted her, his voice calm as he gestured towards the chair opposite him. "Please, make yourselffortable. We have quite a variety of drinks, courtesy of the generous patrons in the main hall. Although," he added, "I''m afraid your quill won''t be necessary for our conversation this evening. Perhaps it''s best left tucked away."

    A flicker of annoyance passed through Rita''s bright green eyes, but she quickly masked it behind a practiced smile. She tucked her oversized handbag beneath the table, out of sight but certainly not out of mind. Then, leaning forward, she extended her hand across the table towards Bryan. Her fingers with numerous shy rings, seemed almost man-sized in their size.

    "I must say, Watson, I was quite surprised to receive your letter," Rita began, her tone dripping with false casualness. "How have you been faringtely? Oh, and did you happen to catch my article in the Daily Prophetst month? The one specting on the truth behind that dreadful attack during the Quidditch World Cup final?"

    Bryan raised a ss of sherry, toasting Rita. "It was truly excellent," he replied, his voiceced with subtle irony. "I was particrly impressed by your objective portrayal of me as Cornelius Fudge''s newly recruited henchman. Your depiction of mine alleged collusion with the Ministry was...."

    Rita''s heavily made-up face remained nk, showing no sign of embarrassment at Bryan''s thinly veiled sarcasm. Instead, her eyes sparkled with an almost manic enthusiasm as she leaned in closer.

    "Oh, you know how it is, Watson," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "The public loves a bit of intrigue. I simply thought that a wizard of your caliber should have some spirit of rebellion. It adds spice to your image, you see."

    Bryan chuckled softly, the sound rich with amusement and a hint of resignation. "Thank you very much for your frank suggestion, Rita. Your concern for my public image is truly touching." His eyes suddenly flickered towards Rita''s handbag, a knowing glint in his gaze. "Oh, and could you please ask your quill to stop its continuous fidgeting in your handbag? I''d hate for it to have an unfortunate identter."

    Rita''s heavily powdered face froze for a moment, her practiced smile faltering slightly. She recovered quickly, but not before Bryan caught the sh of surprise and irritation in her eyes. With a forcedugh, she nudged her handbag with her foot, as if disciplining a misbehaving pet.

    "Oh, this quill is getting a bit long in the tooth," she said casually, "Sometimes it doesn''t behave as well as it should. I really must look into getting a new one."

    Taking a deep breath, Rita seemed to gather herself. Her eyes, magnified behind her jeweled spectacles, fixed on Bryan intensely. The predatory gleam was back, her earlier difort forgotten in the face of a potential scoop.

    "So, Watson," she began, her voice dripping with eagerness, "I was thinking we could have a little chat about that mysterious witch you mentioned. Cliodna, wasn''t it? The public first heard this intriguing name from your lips, you know. They''re absolutely fascinated."

    Rita paused for dramatic effect, her eyes never leaving Bryan''s face as she continued, "I mean, here''s a witch as powerful as you, yet she avoids the limelight like you. It''s all very mysterious, very alluring to our readers. You both belong to some secret organization, don''t you?"

    Her voice dropped to a staged whisper, tinged with implication. "There''s a history there, isn''t there? Between you two, I mean. The public is very interested in your... rtionship." Rita''s eyebrows wiggled suggestively. "Are you... oh, I don''t know... lovers, perhaps?"

    Bryan had anticipated this line of questioning. Unmoved by her probing questions and implications, he just smiled and snapped his fingers producing a crisp sound.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    A sharp crack suddenly sounded in the small private room, startling Rita Skeeter. She almost thought Watson had lost his temper in embarrassment, but as the echoes of the sound faded, nothing seemed to have changed. The room remained as it was, with no visible effects from Bryan''s magical disy. Rita''s eyes darted around wildly, searching for some sign of what had just urred.

    It was then that a small, neatly folded piece of parchment materialized in mid-air. It hovered for a moment, as if suspended by invisible strings, before gently floating down tond on the table directly in front of Rita.

    Rita stared at the parchment, her expression a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and lingering uneasiness. She made no move to touch it, instead looked up at Bryan with questions burning in her eyes.

    "What''s this?" she asked, her voice showing a hint of the fear she was trying to conceal. In that moment, it was clear that Rita Skeeter had suddenly remembered exactly who she was dealing with ¨C not just a subject for her sensational articles, but one of the most powerful wizards of the age.

    Bryan leaned back in his chair, intecing his fingers as he looked at Rita with a calm, almost amused expression. "Why don''t you read it and see for yourself?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0499 Big News

    0499 Big News

    Rita''s eyes darted nervously around the room, her gaze finally settling on Bryan''s nk face. She tried to mask her growing unease with a smile that was meant to be curious but came across as forced and slightly agitated. The corners of her mouth twitched involuntarily, showing her inner turmoil.

    "Oh, you''ve brought me some big news, have you?" she said, her voice quavering slightly despite her best efforts to maintain her usual breezy tone.

    The tingling sensation that had begun at her scalp was now spreading down her neck, and she could feel her heart pounding against her ribs like a caged animal seeking escape.

    After a series of events, Bryan Watson''s reputation had be surprisingly good. He was now hailed as a hero by the vast majority of the Wizardingmunity. His timely intervention during the chaotic night of the Quidditch World Cup final had potentially saved multiple Wizarding nations around the globe from destruction. The wizarding world was overflowing with gratitude, singing praises of Watson''s bravery and prowess.

    However, as is often the case with sudden fame and adoration, there were also dissenting voices amidst the chorus of approvals. These voices, though fewer in number, were no less passionate in their skepticism and criticism.

    Rita, being a well-informed reporter with her finger on the pulse of the Wizarding world''s gossip, had heard many of these unfavorable opinions. Some of them, she had to admit, weren''t entirely without merit.

    She nced at Watson probingly, her magnified eyes searching for any crack in hisposed face. But the man before her remained as calm as a statue, his piercing gaze focused upon her with an intensity that made her want to squirm in her seat.

    Left with no other choice, Rita reached out with fingers that trembled slightly, picking up the parchment thaty on the table between them. Her plump fingers deftly unfolded the letter and she adjusted her bejeweled spectacles, pushing them further up her nose and leaned in closer to scrutinize the unusually long document.

    As her eyes skimmed over the parchment, familiar names began to jump out at her. These weren''t just any names ¨C they were the names of some of the most powerful and influential figures in the wizarding world. Ministers, department heads, prominent purebloods, and even a few names she recognized from international magicalmunities.

    "Oh, Merlin''s beard!" The exmation burst from her lips before she could stop it.

    Rita, who had beenzing in her chair with an air of casual indifference, suddenly sat upright. With her thick finger, she traced a path from the top of the parchment to the bottom, her crimson-painted lips moving silently as she mouthed the names and the damning information listed beside them.

    The details were staggering. Bribes epted,ws circumvented, dark artifacts smuggled, and galleons upon galleons of ill-gotten gains carefully catalogued. It was aundry list of corruption that reached to the very highest echelons of British Ministry. Rita''s mind whirled as she tried to process the horror of what she was reading.

    Bryan observed Rita''s reaction with great interest. To be honest, he was somewhat surprised by what he saw. He had expected Rita Skeeter, as the notorious gossip-monger and scandal-breaker, to tremble with excitement upon seeing this list.

    But as the minutes ticked by, marked by the steady ticking of the old clock on the wall, Rita''s eyebrows arched higher and higher, her lips were pressed together so tightly that they almost disappeared, leaving only a thin line of color and her hands began to shake visibly. But ording to Bryan''s judgment this wasn''t necessarily due to excitement.

    The cheap bronze candlestick on the table, its surface dulled by years of use and neglect, supported several stubby candles. They emitted a dim, yellowish light that cast long shadows across the room. asionally, bright sparks would leap from the steady mes, dancing in the air for a brief moment before vanishing into nothingness.

    Rita''s gaze darted back and forth across the names on the parchment, her eyes moving with the rapidity of a Seeker tracking a particrly elusive Snitch. She read each line with painstaking care, as if trying to engrave the information permanently into her brain.

    It wasn''t until Bryan had leisurely finished two full sses of sherry that she finally lowered the parchment from her eyes. Her face, usually covered with a thickyer of powder had now truly turned pale.

    "I can''t believe it, Watson," Rita finally spoke.

    The exaggerated, almost theatrical tone that was her trademark had vanished entirely. What remained was a voice that seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of her throat, raw but less nauseating.

    Rita''s fingers clutched at a corner of the parchment so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.

    "This thing," she continued, her words emerging through gritted teeth, "could bring down the entire Ministry of Magic!"

    Bryan''s response was not what Rita expected. Instead of the grim nod or triumphant smirk she had anticipated, he just shook his head with a soft chuckle.

    "Why would you think that?" he asked, his tone light and almost yful. "As one of the most famous current affairs reporters for the Daily Prophet, I thought you''d seen more of the world, Rita. But your reaction truly disappoints me."

    His words stung Rita''s professional pride, cutting through her shock and reigniting some of her usual fire. Her eyes, magnified to an almostical degree by her bejeweled spectacles, narrowed as she red at the man sitting opposite her. For a moment, the fear in her gaze was obscured by a sh of something that bordered on hatred.

    "What do you want to do, Watson?" she demanded, her voice rising slightly in pitch. "Do you want me to expose this? To ster it all over the front page of the Daily Prophet for everyone to see?"

    Bryan''s amusement seemed to grow with each passing moment. He leaned back in his chair, observing the bristling Rita Skeeter with undisguised interest. When he spoke, his voice was casual, almost careless, as if they were discussing nothing more important than the weather.

    "What if I do?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in mock innocence.

    For a brief, wild moment, Rita Skeeter felt an overwhelming urge to grab her crocodile-skin handbag and flee the room. Her fight-or-flight instinct was screaming at her to run, to put as much distance as possible between herself and this dangerous man with his even more dangerous document.

    But the cold reality quickly reasserted itself. She knew, with a certainty that chilled her to her core, that without Watson''s permission, she could never leave this room. Not especially now that she had seen such a potentially deadly document.

    Of course, Rita didn''t think Watson would kill her right now ¨C there were far too many witnesses who had seen her enter his private room. It would be impossible to contain. But she had no doubt that he possessed ways to ensure her silence. Perhaps a carefully arranged ident after she left the Leaky Cauldron, or a sudden, inexplicable loss of memory that would leave her unable to recall anything of importance.

    Bryan Watson was no paragon of virtue like Dumbledore. Anyone who knew even a little about Watson was well aware of this fact.

    "Oh, why don''t you just tell the Ministry that I''m an illegal Animagus, Watson!" Rita finally burst out, her carefully manicured nails digging into the palms of her hands. Her eyes were cold, empty of their usual mischievous glint. "Maybe I''ll be lucky, and those disgusting Dementors won''tpletely scramble my brain in Azkaban. Then, after I''m released, I might still be able to eke out the rest of my days with whatever gold I''ve managed to squirrel away."

    She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "But if I put this... this bombshell in the newspaper..." Rita''s voice trailed off, and she shook her head vehemently. "Oh, forgive my frankness, Watson, but I don''t think this could ever see the light of day. And if I were to insist on publishing it anyway?" A bitterugh came from her lips. "Well, I suppose my dream of writing that tell-all biography of Albus Dumbledore would have to remain just that ¨C a dream. Assuming, of course, that I lived long enough to regret my decision."

    Looking at the enraged Rita, Bryan chuckled, "You''re much smarter than I imagined, Rita,"

    Thepliment, however, did nothing to improve Rita''s mood. If anything, it seemed to fan the mes of her anger. She stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. The candlelight flickered, reflected in her eyes, which burned with abination of fear and fury. It was clear that she resented being dragged into what she perceived as a deadly, troublesome affair.

    "Maybe you want to seize power for yourself, Watson," She spat, her words dripping with venom. "Perhaps you''re aiming to rece Cornelius Fudge as the Minister of Magic. But don''t you dare try to drag me down with this... this political dynamite!" Rita''s chest heaved as she fought to control her breathing. After a few moments, she continued, her voiceced with bitterness.

    "I know those politicians'' true faces better than you do, Watson. I''ve seen behind their masks, witnessed their true natures. I know exactly where their bottom line is." Her lips curled into a sneer. "They might not mind me asionally publishing news that embarrasses them ¨C it keeps the masses entertained, after all. But if it truly threatens their positions of power?"

    She shook her head emphatically. "They won''t hesitate for a second. They''ll trample all over the veryws they themselves made, without a shred of remorse."

    Bryan listened to Rita''s emotional speech with an expression of interest, as if he were attending a mildly entertaining lecture. When she finished, he slowly brought his hands together in a leisurely apuse.

    "A wise observation, indeed," He said, his tone genuinely admiring. "You''ve clearly learned much during your years of... shall we say, investigative reporting." He gestured towards Rita''s chair. "But please, sit down. I haven''t finished speaking, have I?"

    Rita hesitated for a long moment, visibly torn between her desire to maintain her stance and her curiosity about what Watson might say next. Finally, practicality won out over pride, and she lowered herself back into her seat.

    It wasn''t just because she couldn''t resist Bryan Watson''smand ¨C though that certainly yed a part ¨C but also because she wanted to see what game Watson was ying. In her years as a reporter, Rita had developed a nose for stories, and right now, every instinct she possessed was telling her that there was more to this situation than met the eye.

    "You''ve probably read this list thoroughly by now," Bryan began, "Later, you can copy part of it to take back with you. Tomorrow morning, I''ll go to the Ministry to meet with Fudge. At that time, I''ll inform him that you have such a list in your possession and are preparing to publish it in the Daily Prophet."

    Rita''s eyes widened in rm, and she opened her mouth to protest, but Bryan held up a hand to silence her. "Don''t get excited, listen to me," he said firmly. "This matter is of great importance, and it''s entirely predictable that Fudge will personally negotiate with you, trying his utmost to persuade you not to publish this information. You can follow his instructions and agree not to publish the contents of the parchment."

    Bryan spread his hands in a gesture of nonchnce, indicating he had finished speaking.

    Rita stared at him, her mouth hanging open in surprise. "Just like that?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

    "Of course," Bryan replied smoothly, "you can also negotiate terms with Fudge. Perhaps secure some privileges for yourself, or a generous number of galleons. You''re a very experienced person, Rita, with an excellent sense of how far you can push things. I''m sure you know exactly where the limit lies." He paused, his expression growing serious. "There is, however, one thing I must remind you: Fudge will almost certainly ask if I gave you this list. When that happens, you must unwaveringly maintain your story. If he presses you on where you obtained this information..."

    Bryan''s lips curved into a small smile. "Well, you''re exceptionally skilled at crafting convincing narratives, Rita. I have every confidence that you can provide our esteemed Minister of Magic with an answer that will satisfy his curiosity without revealing the truth."

    Rita slowly closed her mouth, her green eyes sparkling with a mixture of wariness and understanding. She had already begun to sense that Bryan Watson''s intentions were moreplex than they initially appeared. It seemed unlikely that he truly meant to use this list to bring down the Ministry, nor did he appear to want to back her into a corner from which there was no escape. Of course, she realized, he was indeed using her ¨C but for some other, as yet unspeakable purpose.

    Before she could voice any of the questions swirling in her mind, Bryan spoke again. This time, his voice carried the unmistakable weight of authority, reminding Rita forcefully of exactly who she was dealing with. "Control your curiosity, Rita," he said, his tone brooking no argument.

    Rita''s breath caught in her throat, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to process everything she had heard. After a moment, she managed to speak, her voice wavering slightly. "You''re asking for my help, aren''t you, Watson? But why... why should I help you?"

    Bryan''s response was calm and leisurely. "Isn''t this arrangement beneficial for you as well?" he asked rhetorically. "As long as you don''t insist on publishing the list and make some kind of promise to Fudge ¨C the specifics of which I''ll leave to your will ¨C I don''t believe he''ll take any drastic action against you. And you''ll indeed be holding onto a significant weakness of the Ministry of Magic. If something troublesome were to happen to you in the future, you might find this information to be a rather effective... insurance policy, shall we say?"

    Rita raised her eyebrows, momentarily rendered speechless by Watson''s words.

    "Well then, that''s it¡ª" Bryan''s voice cut through her whirling thoughts, startling her back to the present moment. He didn''t wait for Rita to give a clear response, seemingly content with her silent contemtion. With a casual air that opposed the seriousness of their conversation, he picked up his ss with some drink left and drained it in one gulp, letting out a contented sigh. "Good night, Ms. Rita Skeeter¡ª"

    Before Rita could voice a response, Bryan had already risen from his chair. He covered the short distance to the door in two long strides. His hand was on the doorknob, ready to turn it and step out into the corridor of the Leaky Cauldron.

    The abruptness of his departure jolted Rita into action. Just as Bryan was about to step through the crack of the now-open door, she found her voice.

    "Wait, Watson!" The words burst from her lips with urgency.

    Bryan paused, his hand still on the doorknob, and turned slightly to face her.

    Rita stared at him, her gaze wary and searching. After hesitating for a moment, she said dryly. "You surprise me too, Watson, with your power, your influence... no matter what you want to do, Fudge can''t truly stop you. He wouldn''t dare."

    She paused, moistening her lips nervously before continuing. "But you''re going to such lengths¡ªI mean, this list..." Her eyes flicked to the parchment still lying on the table, its contents now burned into her memory. "It certainly wasn''t easy to obtain, was it? The risk, the time it must have taken..."

    She left the question unspoken, but it hung in the air between them: Why? Why go through all this trouble when he could simply act directly?

    A soft chuckle escaped Bryan''s lips, barely audible in the quiet room. He turned his head, preparing to leave, but his voice carried clearly over his shoulder, prating the heavy wooden door panel to reach Rita''s ears.

    "I''m not the Dark Lord, Rita¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0500 The Ministry

    0500 The Ministry

    Ministry of Magic, First Underground Floor, Minister''s Office - Early Morning

    The corridor outside the Minister for Magic''s office was always a hive of activity on workdays, packed with Ministry employees from various departments needing to report affairs or get signatures. In the days following the attack at the Quidditch match, this situation was particrly extreme, with people queuing from Fudge''s office door all the way to the elevator hall.

    Today was no exception to this new norm. The early morning light filtering through the enchanted windows did little to lift the mood of anxiety that filled the air. Normally at this hour, the Minister''s office door would be flung wide open to ''wee guests,'' Yet today, unlike the past few mornings, it remained resolutely shut.

    Even Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister was blocked by the closed door. She could could be seen huffing and puffing repeatedly attempting to gain entry. Her usually sugary voice took on a shrill edge as she called out, "Minister? Minister Fudge?" But her efforts were in vain; the door remained closed.

    The crowd of employees, their patience wearing thin, began to whisper among themselves. Theories flew back and forth like a game of magical catch.

    "Did you see that group from the Auror Office?" A witch in midnight blue robes murmured to her colleague. "They practically ran in there!"

    "Merlin''s beard, what do you think it could be?" replied a wizard with an impressively curled mustache. "Another attack?"

    "Surely not," A young witch gasped clutching a stack of parchments. "Not so soon after the Quidditch disaster!"

    Their spections grew wilder with each passing minute. What earth-shattering case could need such secrecy?

    Little did they know that the atmosphere inside the Minister''s luxurious office was even more charged than the corridor outside.

    A heated argument had been raging all morning in the office, growing more intense with each passing hour. Sirius and Dawlish had been at each other''s throats since dawn, their voices rising and falling, neither willing to give an inch. The subject of their fierce argument was none other than Remus.

    Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror Office, observed the sh with thinly veiled irritation. His yellowish-brown hair seemed to bristle with each shouted usation. His piercing yellow eyes darted between the two, asionally narrowing in disapproval at Sirius, his subordinate who seemed to have forgotten all sense of hierarchy and propriety.

    Kingsley had attempted several times to soothe the situation. His deep, calming voice and reasonable arguments had fallen on deaf ears. Now he stood back, his bald head gleaming in themplight as he turned his head, watching the argument with a mixture of concern and resignation.

    "That despicable fellow!" Dawlish''s shout reverberated off the office walls. The veins in his neck stood out like strings as he pointed an using finger in Sirius''s direction. "I''ve seen through it all, ck! He is trying to use every dirty trick in the book to obstruct the Ministry''s investigation, isn''t he?"

    Dawlish''s gray hair, usually neatlybed, now stood on end as if he''d been struck by a mild Shocking Jinx. His wizard''s robes, tailored to fit his muscr frame, strained at the joints as he leaned forward aggressively. "And you, ck," he continued, his voice dropping to a menacing growl, "you''ve been covering for him all along, haven''t you? Trying to buy time, throwing us off the scent ¨C pun very much intended!"

    Sirius''s response was equally heated. His gray eyes shed with a cold fury. "Watch your words, you ignorant oaf!" His voice dripped with icy contempt as he continued, "There isn''t a shred of evidence proving Remus is guilty of anything. Did it ever ur to your thick skull that he might have just been there by ident?"

    Sirius took a step closer to Dawlish. "And let me make this crystal clear for you, since you seem to have trouble grasping simple concepts," he said, voicing each word as if speaking to a particrly slow child. "Even if ¨C and that''s a massive ''if'' ¨C Remus is somehow involved, he has every right to receive proper medical treatment at St. Mungo''s before being subjected to the Ministry''s so-called ''inquiry''!"

    "Absurd!" Dawlish roared, his face now turning violet. If they hadn''t been standing in the Minister''s office under the watchful eyes of their superiors, Dawlish might have already drawn his wand to hex Sirius.

    In Dawlish''s mind, Sirius ck and Remus Lupin were cut from the same cloth ¨C dangerous, untrustworthy, and a menace to proper wizarding society. One had spent over a decade in Azkaban, only escaping judgment through a series of unlikely events and powerful connections. And the other...

    "Thew is meant to protect wizards!" Dawlish growled through clenched teeth, saliva flying from his lips. His hand twitched towards his wand holster as he red at Sirius with undisguised loathing. "It wasn''t written for the benefit of filthy, lowly werewolves!"

    The moment those words left Dawlish''s mouth, it was as if someone had cast Immobulus on the entire room. The tense atmosphere, which had been simmering like a vtile potion all morning, suddenly reached its boiling point. If the previous arguments had been a slowly burning fuse, Dawlish''s unrestrainedment was the spark that ignited the powder keg.

    In a sh of movement almost too quick to follow, Sirius''s wand appeared in his hand. With the skill and speed of a duelist, he pressed it directly towards Dawlish''s face, the tip just a few inches from the nose. Sirius''s eyes zed with abination of fury and barely contained magic, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his rage.

    "Apologize!" Sirius demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Apologize right now, Dawlish, or I swear by Merlin''s grave, I''ll give you a reason to spend a few days in St. Mungo''s yourself!"

    Dawlish also drew his own wand with equal speed. The two stood frozen in a deadlock, wands pointed at each other''s faces, neither willing to make the first move or the first concession.

    "Compared to St. Mungo''s," Dawlish sneered, his wand hand steady. "I''d rather send you straight back to Azkaban where you belong, ck!"

    The tension in the room reached a fever pitch. It seemed that at any moment, curses would start flying, turning the Minister''s office into a battleground.

    Just as it seemed the situation would escte into a full-blown duel, a new voice cut through the chaos. Rufus Scrimgeour, who had been watching the exchange with growing irritation, suddenly straightened to his full, impressive height.

    "What do you two think you''re doing?!" Scrimgeour''s voice boomed through the office, drowning out all other noise. He strode between Sirius and Dawlish, his own wand drawn but pointed at the floor.

    His gaze swept from one man to the other. "Have you both lost your minds?" he continued, his voice dripping with scorn. "For a criminal, are you going to blow up the Minister''s office?!"

    At these words, Sirius immediately redirected his furious re from Dawlish to Scrimgeour. Meanwhile, a barely perceptible smirk of satisfaction flickered across Dawlish''s face rugged eyes.

    On the other side, Kingsley''s eyes narrowed slightly. Unable to openly take a stance withoutpromising his own position, he instead turned his attention to the one person in the room who had remained surprisingly quiet throughout the entire ordeal.

    Cornelius Fudge sat behind his massive desk, seemingly oblivious to the near-duel that had almost erupted in his office. His round face was creased with a deep frown, his gaze unfocused as if looking at something far beyond the walls of his office.

    This behavior was entirely out of character for the usually image-conscious and self-opinionated Fudge. A heated conflict was literally unfolding few feet from his desk, yet he appearedpletely indifferent to it. What could possibly be upying his thoughts sopletely that he would ignore such a vtile situation in his own office?

    Fudge had indeed been in this distracted state for most of the morning. He had listened halfheartedly to both sides of the argument for a while, nodding at appropriate intervals and making nomittal "hmm" sounds. But as the debate had grown more heated, Fudge had withdrawn into his own thoughts, barely listening the raised voices and usations flying around his office.

    This wasn''t normal, was it? Kingsley knew that Fudge should be all over this conflict, using it to his advantage or at least making a show of mediating. Instead, he sat in unusual silence.

    <em>''What was Fudge pondering so intently? What could be more pressing than a near-brawl between two of his Aurors?''</em>

    Unable to guess the Minister''s thoughts and aware of the need to defuse the immediate crisis, Kingsley finally spoke up. "Perhaps we should all take a moment to collect ourselves, No one wants to see you and your colleaguee to blows in the Minister''s office, Sirius. It would reflect poorly on all of us."

    Kingsley put particr emphasis on the words ''no one,'' his eyes flicking meaningfully towards Fudge. He hoped Sirius would catch his subtle hint ¨C that escting this conflict could have far-reaching consequences beyond just this room. However, Sirius, still seething with righteous anger on behalf of his friend, seemed oblivious to Kingsley''s attempt at mediation.

    Scrimgeour, on the other hand, didn''t miss Kingsley''s careful choice of words. He shot Kingsley a piercing nce, his lion-like eyes narrowing suspiciously.

    The tense standoff might have continued indefinitely if not for a sudden interruption. The heavy oak door of the office, which had been quiet for the past hour, suddenly reverberated with a series of sharp knocks. The person on the other side was practically pounding on the door, their voice carrying clearly through the thick wood, filled with excitement.

    "Minister!" the voice called out, the words tumbling over each other in their haste to be heard. "Minister Fudge! Are you there, Minister?"

    After nearly two months of working, Sirius had be quite familiar with the people in the Ministry. He immediately recognized the voice as belonging to Dirk Cresswell who had recently been appointed as the new head of the Goblin Liaison Office.

    Sirius had a pleasant, if not particrly close, rtionship with Cresswell. It wasn''t a connection he had actively sought out, but rather one that had developed spontaneously through theirmon acquaintance.

    Dirk had approached Sirius early on, eager to discuss about Bryan Watson, a fellow Slytherin whom Dirk greatly admired. On days when Sirius wasn''t out on field assignments, Dirk would often seek him out, showering him with questions about Bryan''s time at Hogwarts and his subsequent rise to prominence.

    Hearing Dirk''s excited voice now, Sirius''s brow furrowed in confusion, momentarily distracted from his anger and lowered his wand.

    "There''s someone you absolutely must see, Minister!" Dirk continued to bang on the door when he received no immediate response. "It''s urgent!"

    Fudge, startled out of his reverie by themotion, blinked rapidly as ifing out of a trance. His chubby face contorted into a mask of irritation as he called out in an irritable tone, "I''m in the middle of something extremely important, Dirk! If it''s convenient, you can ask the visitor to get a number from Dolores and wait outside with everyone else!"

    The knocking outside stopped for only a second before resuming. Dirk shouted at the top of his voice,"Are you absolutely certain about that, Minister?" Dirk''s voice rose to a near-shout, excitement. The words tumbled out in a rush, as if he feared the door might be silenced at any moment. "It''s Mr. Watson ¡ª Bryan Watson himself is right here, waiting to see you!"

    Sirius''s eyes widened. The anger on his face and the pressure he had been under for the past two days vanished. He was about to move to open the door, but Scrimgeour gave him a stern look and skillfully shifted sideways, blocking his path.

    At the mention of Bryan''s name, Fudge''s face had lit up with visible relief. For a brief moment, it seemed as though all his worries had evaporated. But this expression of easested for only a few fleeting seconds before his face tensed up once more, anxiety creeping back into his face.

    "Bryan?" Fudge repeated, half-rising from his chair. But then, as quickly as he had started to stand, Fudge sank back into his seat. His eyes darted nervously around the room, taking in the tense faces of the Aurors surrounding him.

    "Ahem¡ª" Fudge made a show of clearing his throat, a poor attempt to cover his moment of visible indecision. He coughed a few times, adjusting his coat which had gone slightly awry in his agitation. When he spoke again, he tried to inject a note of casual indifference into his voice. "Alright then, Dirk. You may show him in."

    As Dirk''s footsteps could be heard retreating from the door, presumably to fetch Bryan, the atmosphere in the office shifted once again. Rufus Scrimgeour and John Dawlish exchanged a nce, their faces simultaneously darkening.

    After only a few seconds, the door swung open. Bryan stepped into the Minister''s office. As soon as his eyes swept the room, he noted Rufus Scrimgeour and Dawlish''s gloomy expressions, their eyes were fixed on him with a mixture of suspicion and resentment. He saw the relief in Sirius''s gaze while Kingsley had a warm but cautious smile which did not escape his notice, nor did the nervous fidgeting of Fudge behind his desk.

    Bryan could sense the tense atmosphere in the office without much effort. He could also guess what had just happened ¡ª Sirius and Dawlish were still holding their wands! As for the reason for the conflict, it went without saying.

    Nevertheless, Bryan masked his initial reaction quickly. His face settled into an expression of polite puzzlement, as if he had just walked in on a mildly interesting but ultimately ordinary scene. With the air of someone genuinely confused by the atmosphere, he turned towards Fudge at the desk.

    "Have I perhapse at an inconvenient moment, Minister?" Bryan asked, his tone a perfect blend of concern and confusion. He gestured vaguely at the group; his eyebrows raised in questioning. "If this is a bad time, I''d be more than happy toe backter. I wouldn''t want to interrupt anything important."

    Fudge, caught off guard by Bryan''s direct address, fumbled for a response. "Of course not!" he eximed, a forced smile stretching across his round face. He waved a hand dismissively, as if trying to brush away the tension in the room. "We were just¡­ ah¡­ discussing some routine work. Nothing that can''t wait, I assure you!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0501 Venus

    0501 Venus

    "It appears I may have indeed arrived at a rather inconvenient moment."

    Bryan stopped in the middle of the office, observing everyone''s expressions. Everyone in the office noticed the obvious confusion on Bryan''s face.

    "Perhaps," Bryan continued, his voice taking on a considerate tone, "it would be best if I were to wait outside for a while. At least until you''ve concluded your urgent business."

    Bryan''s disy of confusion was so convincing that even Sirius and Fudge were unsure of what was going on with him.

    Fudge, his round face already flushed from the earlier confrontation, now took on an almostical expression of bewilderment. He stared intently at Bryan''s unique light purple eyes and after a moment of tense silence, he finally spoke. His voice came out hesitant, almost squeaky with nervousness. "Don''t you... don''t you know what''s happened, Bryan?"

    "What?" Bryan''s response was instant, his brow furrowing even deeper. His gaze flicked from Fudge to Sirius, then back again, a perfect picture of growing concern. "Has something happened that concerns me?"

    "Oh, well... ahem¡ª" Fudge''s hesitation was apparent. He shifted ufortably in his plush chair. He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, he had managed to ster a smile on his face, though it didn''t quite reach his eyes. "It''s nothing, Bryan. Nothing at all. We were just discussing a task for Rufus''s department, you see. Routine business, very dull stuff."

    Fudge''s attempt at nonchnce was about as convincing as a Flobberworm trying to pass itself off as a dragon. Nevertheless, he pressed on, gesturing with his one chubby hand. "Come, sit down. Make yourselffortable."

    His tone shifted to one of forced joviality as he changed the subject. "I must say, I thought you''d be as busy as I am these days! What with Durmstrang and Beauxbatons visiting Hogwarts next week for the Triwizard Tournament and all."

    "Your assumption is quite correct, Minister," Bryan replied smoothly pretending to not notice the inquiring look Sirius was giving him ¨C a look that practically screamed for some kind of exnation. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle, filling the tense atmosphere of the office with a momentary lightness.

    Ignoring the vignt gazes of Rufus and Kingsley, Bryan moved to take a seat opposite Fudge. His robes rustled softly as he settled into the chair. "These past few days have indeed been something of a whirlwind," he continued, his voice taking on a more serious note. "In fact, there''s an urgent matter that I felt I simply must brief you on¡ª."

    "Oh? Is that so?" Fudge''s expression shifted again, a flicker of unease passing across his face. He paused for a moment, his fingers drumming nervously on the polished surface of his desk.

    Then, seeming toe to a decision, he turned to address the Aurors. "Perhaps you gentlemen would care to join us at the conference table?" he suggested, gesturing towards therge table that covered one side of the spacious office.

    As the Aurors moved to take their seats, their chairs scraping softly against the luxurious carpet, Fudge turned his attention back to Bryan. He took a slight breath, his chin quivering with the effort, before asking, "Could it be that you''ve encountered some difficulty in preparing for the Tournament?"

    "I assure you, Minister, everything is progressing smoothly," Bryan replied, his tone confident and reassuring. A small smile appeared at the corners of his mouth as he continued, "This is, after all, the first Triwizard Tournament to be held in centuries. You can trust both myself and Headmaster Dumbledore; Hogwarts will not make any mistakes in this matter."

    Bryan paused for a moment. "In fact, well... perhaps it''s best if I begin with a somewhat more personal matter." As he spoke, he reached into an inner pocket of his robes. From within, he picked out a folded piece of parchment, which he ced on the desk in front of Fudge.

    "You see, Minister," Bryan began, his voice taking on a slightly sheepish tone that was so at odds with his usual confident demeanor that it immediately captured everyone''s attention. "The sry provided by Hogwarts, while generous, can hardly be expected to fully support my ongoing magical research." He gestured towards the parchment, which Fudge was now eyeing with undisguised curiosity. "What I have there is an application. I''m nning to open my own alchemy workshop to produce a new gadget I''ve recently invented."

    Bryan leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a more light tone. "I was rather hoping, Minister, that you might be able to... well, to put it bluntly, pull some strings to elerate the approval process."

    He showed a smile that managed to be both charming and slightly embarrassed. "I have to do this; I''m afraid my funds won''tst much longer."

    A hush fell over the office following Bryan''s unexpected statement. Every eye in the room was fixed on Bryan, expressions ranging from astonishment to disbelief etched on the faces of those present.

    Rufus Scrimgeour''s reaction was particrly noticeable. His bright yellow eyes trembled violently in their sockets and his brow furrowed deeply: What in Merlin''s name was going on? Wasn''t Bryan Watson here about Remus Lupin''s situation?

    Sirius, for his part, nearly leapt from his chair the moment Bryan''s words were fully registered in his mind but Kingsley gave him a swift, hard kick under the table, silently advising him to be patient.

    Swallowing his outburst, Sirius settled back into his chair, but his eyes remained fixed on Bryan''s face.

    Fudge who over the years had be ustomed to countless individuals seeking favors from him but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that Bryan Watson, of all people, would approach him with a request in order to make/save money. This unexpected turn of events, beyond the initial shock it provoked, actually made Fudge feel quite relieved.

    "The Venus Learning Machine (Model 94)," Fudge read aloud, his voice tinged with interest as he picked up the application Bryan had submitted. His eyes skimmed over the parchment, taking in the details. "Is this your brilliant idea, Bryan? An alchemical device, you say? What exactly can it do?"

    "Ah, I''m delighted you asked, Minister," Bryan responded, his voice taking on an enthusiastic tone. "I was just about to introduce it to you, in fact. But before I do, I must emphasize that this isn''t solely my achievement. Many members of the Hogwarts faculty have contributed their wisdom to this project. Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and numerous other professors who are unquestionable authorities in their respective fields - all have yed a part in its development."

    Bryan paused for a moment before continuing. "Ah, but perhaps you''ll allow me a moment of immodesty, the initial spark of inspiration did originate with me."

    The mention of Hogwarts and its faculty seemed to cast a spell over the room. Even the Aurors, who moments ago had been suspicious had their attention captured. After all, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry enjoyed a worldwide reputation for excellence. Every witch and wizard who taught there was, without exception, counted among the most outstanding in their field. The mention of a device thatbined the wisdom of such famous minds was enough to pique even the most skeptical interest.

    "This gadget''s primary function lies in teaching," Bryan exined, his eyes gleaming with enthusiasm. "But perhaps a demonstration would be more enlightening than just words. With your permission, Minister?"

    At Fudge''s nod of acquiescence, Bryan rose from his chair. He took out his wand from his robes. Turning to face an empty space in the center of the office, Bryan raised his wand and began to move it through the air in an intricate pattern.

    The effect was mesmerizing. Golden phantom sand seemed to seep out of the air itself, merging into a shimmering cloud in the center of the room. Countless beautiful, tiny particles of light swirled and danced in the void, following the graceful movements of Bryan''s wand. As the gathered wizards watched in rapt attention, these particles of light gradually began to converge, taking on a more solid form.

    What emerged before their eyes was unlike anything they had seen before. At its core, it resembled a metal chair, but that simple description hardly did justice to theplex and somewhat unsettling device that now stood in the Minister''s office.

    The space beneath the seat was fully enclosed, hinting at hidden mechanisms and magicalponents concealed within. But it was the structure behind the backrest that truly captured the eye as series of snake-like metal rods bulged from it.

    At the end of each such rods was a small circr disc, simr to the suckers on an octopus''s tentacles. These discs were all oriented towards the position where one''s head would normally rest when seated, giving the unsettling impression that they were to emit... something... directly into the user''s brain.

    Fudge, his earlier wariness forgotten in the face of this marvelous device, left his seat and began to circle the phantasmal representation. His eyes were wide with wonder as he examined the strange machine that supposedlybined the wisdom of many Hogwarts faculty members.

    "Fascinating, truly fascinating," Fudge muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. Then he asked loudly, "Can this thing make people smarter?"

    Bryan''s smile widened at the question. "Allow me to demonstrate its capabilities," he said, raising his wand once more. With aplex flick of his wrist, a light screen suddenly shimmered into existence beside the chair which was simr to a Muggle television broadcast.

    On this ethereal disy, several squares appeared, eachbeled with words written inside them of a different magical subject: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, and more.

    "Let''s consider a practical example," Bryan suggested. "Suppose we have a wizard who is struggling with the Shield Charm. He wishes to use this machine to improve his mastery of the spell. The process would be as follows."

    With careful movements, Bryan tapped the ''Charms'' square on the light screen with the tip of his wand. The disy changed instantly, now showing a stylized graphic of a magnifying ss. Using his wand like a quill, Bryan wrote ''Shield Charm'' within the circr space of the magnifying ss. As soon as he finished writing, a ''Confirm'' button materialized on the screen. Bryan tapped it without hesitation.

    Suddenly. the flexible rods extending from its back began to twist and squirm. From the suction cup-like discs at their ends, a pure white fluorescence began to emanate, bathing the office in an otherworldly glow.

    "At this point," Bryan exined, "the machine would draw your consciousness into an illusory realm."

    Noticing Fudge''s increasingly engrossed expression, Bryan smiled before continuing. "Within this illusion, you would encounter a wizard whose appearance I''ve set in advance. This illusory tutor possesses the majority of Professor Flitwick''s experience and insights regarding the Shield Charm. He will guide you through customized practice sessions, pointing out any mistakes in your technique and offering specific advice on how to improve. Just imagine the possibilities, Minister!

    With just one of these machines, you could have unlimited private lessons with a virtual Professor Flitwick - a wizard who, as you may recall, was a formidable dueling champion in his youth - guiding you step-by-step to learn the Shield Charm."

    Bryan''s gaze swept across the room, making eye contact with each person present as he continued. "Or perhaps you''d prefer to delve into the mysteries of Transfiguration under the guidance of Professor McGonagall with her profound expertise in the field teaching you advanced transfiguration. And of course, if you wished to learn my own Spirit Fire Charm, that option is readily avable as well. I''ve personally encoded all the relevant knowledge into the system."

    Fudge''s eyes had grown wide as saucers, his mouth slightly open as he considered the impact of such a device. Even Rufus Scrimgeour, fixed his eyes on the device and unconsciously clenched his fists after Bryan''s sales pitch!

    "Now, I should mention," Bryan added, his tone bing slightly more businesslike, "that for some basic, standard spells, users can begin learning immediately as soon as you buy the device. However," he held up a finger, his expression growing a bit more serious, "for certain special, advanced magics, there may be a need for... shall we say, a modest additional payment."

    "What price are you nning to set for this marvelous device, Bryan?"

    Although Fudge''s personality had some fatal ws, he couldn''t have been a fool to have held the position of Minister for Magic for so many years. He immediately saw the value of this device and asked eagerly.

    "As I''m sure you''re all well aware, knowledge is very precious,"

    Bryan said with a smile,

    "I''m nning to price each machine at fifty thousand Galleons."

    Fudge''s eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline.

    Seeing his reaction, Bryan quickly continued. "I understand that the figure may seem shocking at first nce, Minister. But I assure you, it''s a fair price when you consider the device''s immense academic value and theplexity involved in its manufacture." His voice took on a tone of quiet confidence as he added, "I firmly believe it''s worth every Knut."

    "Of course, Minister, in recognition of the Ministry''s support, I would be more than happy to donate one machine to the Ministry free of charge once the workshop begins production." Bryan said smiling warmly.

    "Is that true?" Fudge asked, his voice quivering with barely contained excitement.

    "Of course¡ª" Bryan smiled gently, "The Ministry''s strength is the guarantee of peace and prosperity in the Wizarding world. As the Senior Advisor to the Ministry I believe I should contribute a little of my own strength."

    "This machine of yours, Mr. Watson," Rufus, who nominally controlled the Ministry''s elite armed forces, also narrowed his eyes and stared at Bryan, "You mentioned earlier that it would even be capable of teaching others the magic you yourself have created. Is that correct?"

    "Indeed¡ª"

    Bryan looked back at Rufus Scrimgeour, nodding with a smile,

    "But you know, Rufus while the machine can indeed provide instruction in advanced magic; most high-level spells have rather stringent requirements when ites to magical talent. It''s not something one can learn just by spending more money."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0502 Over? (Large-chapter)

    0502 Over? (Large-chapter)

    Fudge nced disapprovingly at Rufus Scrimgeour.

    The tension in the air was palpable, Fudge''s bushy mustache twitched with irritation as he observed Scrimgeour''s poorly concealed hostility towards Bryan Watson.

    Fudge understood the animosity between Scrimgeour and Watson, which was harmless enough¡ªhe was even pleased to see it. However, Rufus''s tant disy of hostility on this particr asion was very unwise and unprofessional.

    Personal magical research and inventions were sacred and very precious in the wizarding world, often treated with the utmost respect. Even though Bryan had politely offered to let them use this marvelous creation to learn his and other magic, Rufus''s critical and almost dismissive attitude was totally inappropriate.

    Fudge''s eyes had widenedically when Bryan casually mentioned the price of his invention¡ªfifty thousand Galleons each. The astronomical sum had made Fudge''s jaw drop in astonishment.

    Even the wealthiest and most influential wizarding families, when making their grandest donations to curry favor with the Ministry, rarely showed such wonderful generosity. And this wasn''t simply a financial transaction; it was the donation of an alchemical artifact with incredible capabilities.

    Fudge''s shrewd gaze darted around the room, taking in the chemistry of light and shadows, assessing the reactions of those present.

    With a warm smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes, Fudge reached out and patted Bryan''s shoulder, his chubby fingers lingering for just a moment too long.

    "Oh, thank you for your incredibly generous donation, Bryan," He said, his voice dripping with honeyed appreciation. "It''s absolutely no problem at all. I assure you; the patent application and production license will already be being processed as we speak. Just leave all the tedious paperwork here with me, and I''ll have my trusty assistant, Dolores, take care of everyst detail for you quickly. We''ll send you the official credentials by owl as soon as everything is finalized."

    Bryan''s face lit up with gratitude, his eyes shining with what appeared to be genuine appreciation. "That''s truly wonderful, Minister," he said, his voice warm and sincere. "I can''t thank you enough for your support."

    The two men walked side by side towards Fudge''s imposing desk. Fudge''s demeanor had undergone a remarkable transformation; gone was the initial tension, reced by an air of rxed harmony. His gaze, when it fell upon Bryan, now held a fondness that hadn''t been present few moments ago.

    "I must say, Bryan, I''m thoroughly impressed," Fudge said, his voice booming with admiration. "I had no idea your expertise in alchemy had advanced to such extraordinary heights. Ha! Are you finally nning to give Dumbledore a run for his money in the inventions department?!"

    Bryan''s response was both humble and witty, delivered with perfect timing. "In the grand game of magical Gobstones, Minister, I''m afraid I''ll never be a match for Headmaster Dumbledore."

    This self-deprecating joke elicited a thunderousugh from Fudge, his fat body shaking with humor.

    Sirius observed this scene with growing understanding and a hint of cynicism. Had he not been aware of to Bryan''s true opinions of Fudge during their private conversations, he might have been fooled into believing that the two men before him were the closest of friends. Sirius''s lips pursed slightly as he marveled at Bryan''s acting skills.

    In stark contrast to the jovial atmosphere surrounding Fudge and Bryan, the aura enveloping Rufus Scrimgeour and John Dawlish grew increasingly gloomy. The two seasoned Aurors exchanged knowing nces, sharing same suspicions. They didn''t buy for a second that Bryan Watson had chosen this particr moment to meet with the Minister of Magic purely for the sake of official favors.

    Just as the pleasant atmosphere reached its peak, Bryan''s demeanor underwent a sudden and dramatic shift. His face, previously vibrant with warmth and good humor, transformed in an instant.

    "It''s like this, Minister," Bryan said, his expression instantly bing solemn. "I have another matter of great importance to discuss with you today, and this matter¡ª" He trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air.

    Bryan''s eyes darted deliberately around the conference table, observing each face with calcted hesitation.

    "Oh?" Fudge''s heart skipped a beat. Since the moment Bryan had entered his office, Fudge had been waiting for him to bring up the issue of Remus Lupin. The werewolf''s situation was a ticking time bomb, and Fudge still hadn''t figured out how to deal with Bryan in this. It was this uncertainty that had bind his hand, allowing Lupin to continue his farce at St. Mungo''s.

    Mustering his most reassuring tone, Fudge addressed Bryan''s apparent concerns.

    "It''s quite alright, Bryan," he said, his voice filled with forced nonchnce. "Rufus and the others here are all folks I trust. There''s nothing you could say that they shouldn''t be aware of."

    In truth, Fudge had made a split-second decision not to dismiss the others, hoping that their presence might provide some buffer against whatever bombshell Bryan was about to drop after noticing his persistent concern about their presence.

    "Well, if that''s the case¡ª" Bryan''s hand disappeared into his pocket, emerging with another folded piece of parchment. Unlike the earlier documents, which had been handled with casual indifference, this parchment was treated with different care.

    Fudge watched Bryan''s movements closely, his eyes showing a hint of imperceptible confusion.

    Bryan''s voice took on a soft tone as he began to exin. "Yesterday, quite out of the blue, I received an invitation from Rita Skeeter¡ªyou know her, of course, that tenacious current affairs reporter for the Daily Prophet. She requested a meeting at the Leaky Cauldron, iming she had something very important to discuss with me. Naturally, my curiosity was piqued, so I agreed to meet her."

    As he spoke, Bryan extended the carefully folded parchment towards Fudge. "During our meeting, Rita Skeeter presented me with this list and revealed certain... secrets. You should take a look first, Minister¡ª"

    Just the mention of Rita Skeeter''s name caused visible distress to Fudge. Fine lines of worry etched themselves across his broad forehead, deepening with each passing second. With poorly concealed unease, he snatched the parchment from Bryan''s outstretched hand and hastily unfolded it.

    The moment Fudge''s eyes fell upon the contents of the mysterious document, his expression froze in shock. Fumbling with uncharacteristic clumsiness, he took out his reading sses from his robe pocket and perched them on his nose. Then, as if seeking refuge, he buried his entire face in the parchment, using it as a shield against the attentive eyes of those gathered in his office.

    The office fell silent. Bryan sat with his fingers inteced on the table, calmly watching Fudge, whose expression was hidden behind the letter. Judging by the trembling of his thick fingers gripping the edge of the parchment, this document had given Fudge quite a shock.

    The silence stretched on, bing almost unbearable.

    Sirius unable to see Bryan''s face from his position, could only exchange meaningful nces with Kingsley.

    Meanwhile, Rufus Scrimgeour''s brow furrowed deeply, the wrinkles on his face bing more obvious as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

    <em>''What in Merlin''s name was happening?''</em> Rufus''s piercing gaze bored into Watson''s back. <em>''What earth-shattering information could that parchment contain? And why had Watson suddenly brought up Rita Skeeter, of all people? Could it be that Watson''s presence here had nothing to do with that werewolf''s situation?''</em>

    <em>''No, Impossible''</em>

    Rufus dismissed that thought almost as soon as it formed. It was unlikely that Bryan Watson would stand idly by while that werewolf suffered. There was no doubt in Rufus''s mind that ck had informed Watson of Lupin''s predicament; that much was certain.

    <em>''So,what game was Watson ying?''</em>

    <strong>p! Crash!</strong>

    Just as Rufus''s mind whirled with these unanswered questions, a suddenmotion shattered the tense silence. The sound of flesh striking wood rang out, followed immediately by a resounding crash.

    Fudge had lost all semnce of control. He mmed the parchment onto his desk with such force that the sound reverberated through the office like a thunderp. In the same motion, he stood up abruptly, his violent movement knocking over the chair behind him.

    Rufus could see beads of sweat on the Minister''s forehead. It was hard to describe whether the expression on Fudge''s fat face was one of rage or terror!

    "What''s happened, Minister!" Rufus''s gaze sharpened instantly. He rose, about to rush over, but the young man still sitting across from Fudge turned his head unhurriedly. The deep gaze he cast at Rufus was like a bucket of ice water poured over his head, stopping him in his tracks and sending a chill down his spine!

    Fudge''s voice, when he finally spoke, was a strangled mix of shock and fury. "This¡ªthis is what Rita Skeeter gave you?" he demanded, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Where did she get it? What in the name of all that''s magical does that woman think she''s doing!"

    "Just as you might imagine, Minister," Bryan rose from his seat, speaking calmly. "She wants to publish this list in the Daily Prophet. Rita Skeeter is a clever woman. She clearly knows what consequences her actions might bring and how much trouble it could cause her. That''s precisely why she approached me¡ªshe''s hoping I can offer her some form of protection."

    Before Fudge could explode, Bryan continued, "I''m equally aware of the consequences if this information reaches the public. That''s why I refused her request outright. This made her hesitate about whether to proceed with this matter¡ª"

    "You did the right thing, Bryan!" Fudge eximed, panting heavily. "Does that foolish woman have even the slightest clue of what she''s toying with? If she dares to go through with this, oh, I swear on Merlin''s grave, she''ll find herself in a world of trouble. There''s absolutely no room for negotiation on this matter. I won''t be so agreeable this time!"

    "Indeed¡ª" Bryan nodded slightly. He spoke calmly, as if he hadn''t been the one to inform Fudge about this matter in the first ce.

    "I warned her that this wasn''t like her usual attention-seeking articles. I also advised her to fully consider the consequences of her actions. This made her hesitate, but Minister, I think you should discuss this matter with her in person."

    "Of course!" Fudge stepped out from behind his desk and paced anxiously in front of everyone, hands sped behind his back. "I''ll warn her face-to-face, and if she doesn''t listen..."

    Fudge paused mid-step. He first looked at Bryan, hesitated for a few seconds, then shifted his gaze to the confused faces around the conference table. "Alright, Rufus, you''lle with meter. We''ll go see that troublemaker, Rita Skeeter!"

    "Yes, Minister¡ª" Rufus strode firmly towards Fudge, as he drew close, his eyes flickered momentarily, a brief sh of uncertainty crossing his face. Then, lowering his head to bring his mouth close to Fudge''s ear, he whispered urgently, "About our earlier discussion... I mean, regarding Remus Lupin, the werewolf. Don''t you think it would be prudent for the Auror Office to transfer him from St. Mungo''s to the Ministry? Perhaps we should take some... precautionary measures¡ª"

    Fudge was on the verge of berating Scrimgeour loudly, ready to remind him about what should be their most pressing concern at this moment. However, the words died on his lips as a sudden realization struck him. The trouble caused by that werewolf was far from insignificant. In fact, one of those very troubles was currently standing in his office, watching this exchange with those ufortably perceptive eyes.

    Just as this thought shed through Fudge''s mind, <strong>Knock, knock, knock</strong> ¡ªa series of sharp knocks echoed through the room.

    "Who is it?" Fudge snapped, his patience wearing thin. The interruption had derailed his train of thought, leaving him feeling even more off-bnce than before.

    "It''s me, Tonks, Minister," came a clear, feminine voice from the other side of the door. The words were tinged with an unmistakable note of excitement, bordering on tion. "Is Mr. Scrimgeour also present? I have something very important to report!"

    "Tonks?" Fudge repeated, his brow furrowing as he tried to ce the name. It took Fudge a second or two to remember who Tonks was. "Ah, you mean that talented youngdy from your department?"

    The question was directed at Scrimgeour, but Fudge''s mind was already racing ahead. It was highly unusual for staff members to report directly to higher levels, bypassing their immediate superiors. This breach of protocol caused both Fudge and Scrimgeour to frown simultaneously, their expressions showing disapproval.

    "Go ask her what it''s about--"

    Fudge instructed Rufus while he turned towards the coat rack in the corner of his office, to fetch his signature lime-green bowler hat.

    When the heavy oak door swung open, the excited Tonks was face to face with the angry face of her superior, Rufus Scrimgeour. The sudden confrontation startled her so severely that her vibrant hair cycled through a dizzying array of colors in an instant.

    "What did you wish to report, Tonks?" Rufus''s voice was cold and sharp, his steely gaze falling at the now slightly cowering Tonks.

    "Oh, Mr. Scrimgeour¡ª" Tonks took several hesitant steps backward, clearly intimidated by the fierce expression on her Scrimgeour''s face. Her retreat, however, limited her view of the office''s interior, preventing her from noticing Bryan''s presence. After taking a moment to steady herself, Tonks raised her voice, ensuring that her words would carry to everyone in the office.

    "Lucius Malfoy is here to see you, Minister, and you as well, Mr. Scrimgeour!"

    "Lucius Malfoy?" Fudge''s confused voice echoed from the depths of the office as he repeated the name. Then, raising his voice to be heard clearly, he said, "I''m afraid I don''t have the time to see him now. Tell him toe back another time!"

    "You heard the Minister''s instructions, Tonks¡ª" Rufus''s tone remained cold. Then, his eyes narrowed dangerously as he added, "And I have a question for you, Tonks. Since when did you take it upon yourself to act as the Minister''s personal assistant?"

    It was clear to everyone present that Tonks had upset her immediate superior by her abrupt and unconventional reporting. However she didn''t back down. Instead, she continued to speak loudly, her voice carrying a note of urgency:

    "But Mr. Malfoy hasn''te alone, sir. He''s brought in a criminal!" The words tumbled out of her in a rush, as if she feared being silenced before she could deliver her news. "He arrived at the Auror Office and told me that a thief had attempted to break into the office of a Malfoy family factory manager justst night. The intruder was trying to steal a valuable gem-studded painting but was caught red-handed by the factory''s security personnel. I thought... well, I thought this might be rted to the case you''re currently discussing, so I felt it was important to inform you immediately."

    "Oh, is that true?!" Sirius let out an incredulous, joyful cry, he quickly dashed forward, squeezing past the stunned form of Scrimgeour. His eyes, zing with a mixture of hope and disbelief, fixed themselves on Tonks''s face. "The real culprit has been caught? Is that what you''re saying?"

    "It certainly seems so!" Tonks replied, her gaze locking with Sirius''s. Despite her best efforts to maintain a professional demeanor, a smile appeared at the corners of her mouth as she spoke.

    Inside the office, by the coat rack a dark green bowler hat slipped from Fudge''s fingers and fell to the floor with a soft thud. Fudge stood rooted to the spot, his face showing the mirror image of the shock etched on Scrimgeour''s face.

    "What seems to be the matter, Minister?" Bryan''s voice cut through the stunned silence, his tone one of polite concern. "Has the Ministry encountered some significant case recently? Is there any way I might be of assistance?"

    Fudge''s broad shoulders suddenly began to tremble, as if he were standing in a bitter wind rather than in his warm office. Slowly, with the creaking deliberation of an unoiled hinge, he shifted his gaze until it fixed on Bryan''s face. In the span of a few heartbeats, countless thoughts and emotions shed across Fudge''s mind, his eyes finally settling on Bryan Watson''s unique, exceptionally deep purple eyes.

    "You... you don''t know?" Fudge''s voice came as a shrill whisper, so unlike his usual tones that it might have belonged to a stranger. "You''re not aware of the situation with Remus Lupin?"

    "Remus?" Bryan blinked, his brow furrowing in apparent confusion. "What''s happened to Remus?"

    For a moment, Fudge was rendered speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Bryan''s frown deepened, and he turned towards the door, calling out in a voice tinged with growing concern:

    "What''s going on, Sirius? What''s happened to Remus?"

    Sirius, still standing in the doorway with Tonks, seemed to snap out of his own state of shock at Bryan''s words. He gently pulled Tonks past the statue-like form of Scrimgeour and into the office. It was only now, as he took in the scene before him that he finally understood. Everything¡ªevery word, every action¡ªhad been meticulously orchestrated by Bryan. Though how his friend had managed to pull off such an intricate n, Sirius had no idea.

    "Recently," Sirius began, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions he was clearly experiencing, "some workshops andpanies reported break-ins to the Ministry. They imed their offices had been invaded, although, curiously enough, nothing was actually stolen. We were sent out to guard these locations, and Remus was found in¡ª"

    "Oh!" Bryan''s exmation interrupted Sirius''s exnation. His frown deepened further as he turned to Fudge, his expression a perfect mix of confusion and concern. "Is it possible, Minister, that this is all a terrible misunderstanding? I know Remus¡ªhe''s not the sort of person who would engage in such activities. Is it possible that¡ª"

    Bryan paused, as if carefully considering his next words before continuing:

    "Could it be that Remus was actually searching for work? As far as I''m aware, since leaving his position at Hogwarts, he''s been earnestly trying to forge a new path for himself¡ª"

    "That''s impossible!" The shout came from Dawlish, who seemed to have finally found his voice. His face was covered with bewilderment, clearly struggling to keep up with the rapid turn of events.

    "I''m merely suggesting a possibility¡ª" Bryan''s response was calm, seemingly nonchnt to Dawlish''s outburst. He shrugged and said in a meaningful tone,

    "Of course, this would need to be thoroughly investigated by the Ministry before any conclusions can be drawn. If Remus has indeedmitted a crime, then naturally, he should face the full consequences of his actions. Isn''t that right, Minister?"

    At these words, Fudge''s hand, still clutching the list that had caused such worry earlier, began to twitch irregrly. Under Bryan''s steady gaze, beads of sweat once again formed on the Minister''s broad forehead.

    Fudge''s lips moved several times, as if he wanted to say something, he remained silent, clearly at a loss for what to say.

    "Minister?" Bryan''s voice was gentle, filled with what appeared to be genuine concern.

    "Oh, ahem, yes, of course. Of course, that''s precisely how it should be!" Fudge finally managed to respond, taking several deep, steadying breaths. He forced a smile in Bryan''s direction, though the expression looked more like a grimace. "Let me think. Yes, right, we absolutely need to conduct a thorough investigation. So then¡ª"

    Fudge paused to wipe the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. After another few seconds of silence, he addressed everyone in the office:

    "Tonks, escort Lucius Malfoy''s captive to the temporary holding cells. Ensure all proper protocols are followed. Rufus, you''ll apany me, along with Dawlish and Kingsley. We have an urgent matter to discuss with Rita Skeeter¡ªone that concerns all of you as well."

    His gaze swept across the faces of his subordinates beforending on Sirius. "And you, ck. I want you to confirm if the situation is as Bryan has described. Find out if there''s any possibility that Lupin was at those locations on legitimate business... perhaps he had appointments, or was following up on job leads. In any case, investigate thoroughly. If there''s been a misunderstanding, I want it cleared up as soon as possible!"

    With these instructions delivered, Fudge led the group from his office. The group moved with such swiftness that it almost appeared as if they were fleeing from some unseen disaster. In his rush, Fudge even forgot themon courtesy of bidding farewell to Bryan.

    As the door swung shut behind the departing Ministry officials, leaving Bryan and Sirius alone in the suddenly quiet office, Sirius turned to Bryan with an expression of stunned disbelief.

    "Is it... is it really over?"

    "What else did you expect?" Bryan''s response came with a soft chuckle. His eyes twinkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction as he stared at Sirius. "Ah, did you perhaps want to go a step further? Apply forpensation on Remus''s behalf, maybe?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0503 The Workshop

    0503 The Workshop

    The autumn sunlight filtered through the windows of St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries, casting warm patches across the white sheets of Remus''s bed. This time, mercifully, his injuries weren''t particrly severe - just a nasty wound from an unfortunate tumble down the stairs.

    The Healers had insisted on keeping him under observation for two full days. Though he hadrgely recovered, the hospital protocol required for him to remain under their care for several more days before receiving his official discharge papers.

    The politics surrounding his situation had grown increasinglyplex. On the very day Bryan made his premeditated appearance at the Ministry of Magic, Fudge - attempting to save face while simultaneously finding a diplomatic solution - dispatched Sirius on the mission. The mission involved negotiations with the Wildsmith family, the centuries-old owners of the Floo Pow Company, to investigate whether Remus had indeed been falsely used of trespassing.

    The transparency of this excuse was obvious to all involved parties. If Remus had genuinely been summoned for a legitimate discussion, as was now being suggested, the Wildsmiths would have surely spoken up when the Ministry deployed Aurors to guard him in St. Mungo''s.

    Upon receiving their assignments, both Sirius and Tonks had immediately wanted to storm St. Mungo''s and liberate Remus from what they viewed as unjust confinement. It was only through Bryan''s careful persuasion that they were convinced to be patient.

    Bryan had meticulously orchestrated a situation that gave Fudge an elegant path to retreat from his position without losing face. Fudge, also demonstrating a surprising amount of political shrewdness, recognized the lifeline being thrown to him. Instead of exposing the truth of the situation, which would have also undermined his authority and status, he chose to cooperate by offering Remus an opportunity to clear his name. However, Bryan understood that immediately releasing Remus would have been a catastrophic blow to the Minister''s already fragile authority and dignity.

    So, Bryan used his connections with Gringotts to arrange a secret meeting with the Wildsmith family. Through careful negotiation and perhaps a touch of creative documentation, he got an employment contract cleverly backdated by three months. The contract, written on expensive parchment with official seals and magical watermarks, stated in perfect legalnguage that the Floo Pow had indeed employed Remus Lupin as a security consultant, thus providing a neat and face-saving resolution to the entire affair.

    As the crispte October air swirled around them, Bryan''s attention turned to more practical matters. "I''ve prepared aprehensive document detailing the specifications for the general-purpose machine parts and their material requirements."

    Bryan exined further. "There''s no immediate need for us to establish our own production facilities for theseponents. The goblins, with their extensivework and expertise in quality control, will assist you in identifying and inspecting suitable supplier factories. Once you''ve personally verified their capabilities and standards to your satisfaction, you''ll have full authority to negotiate and sign cooperation agreements with whichever facilities that meet our exacting requirements."

    The industrial district of Diagon Alley presented a stark contrast to the more familiar shopping areas. The midday sun was like aged firewhisky pouringzily onto the ck cobblestones of theplex''s entrance alley. The stones, worn smooth by countless feet and magical transport carts, gleamed with an almost metallic sheen under the autumn light.

    Bryan, Sirius, and the recently discharged Remus wandered through the alley, their unhurried pace allowing them to appreciate the warm sunshine while engaging in detailed discussion about their ns. Their conversation asionally paused as they breathed in the peculiar mixture of magical and industrial scents that permeated the air.

    As they ventured deeper into the industrial zone, the peaceful atmosphere gradually gave way to the thunderous symphony of magical machinery. The narrow alley suddenly expanded dramatically, bing a proper street dozens of times wider than its entrance.

    On either side, impressive factory districts stretched into the distance, their towering chimneys reaching toward the sky like the wands of giants, releasing massive plumes of pearly white smoke that twisted and curled into fascinating shapes before dissipating into the blue sky.

    The workshops lining the street buzzed with activity, filled with workers wearing wide-ranging mix of magical and practical attire. Most of theseborers were native to the Wizarding world, bearing the same battered, determined expressions as the hardworking residents of Hogsmeade who made their living from the soil and their magical crops.

    It was notably rare to find Muggle-born wizards among the workshop workers, particrly in the more menial positions. The logic was simple - if they were going to perform manualbor, they might as well return to the Muggle world where such work was often better waged. Instead, many of the workers were Squibs - those born to magical families butcking magical abilities themselves. With limited options in the Wizarding world, these individuals had little choice but to seek employment in the factories, clinging to the borders of the magical world they could never fully join.

    These Squib workers harbored deep-seated hopes that their future generations might possess the magical talent that had skipped them, dreaming of the day their children or grandchildren would receive their Hogwarts letters,plete their magical education, and secure respectable positions in the Wizardingmunity, finally breaking free from their family''s history of marginalization.

    Remus, his face showing his empathy, quickly averted his gaze from the workers'' resigned expressions, their nk stares hitting too close to home for someone who had experienced his own form of societal rejection.

    "What about the crucialponents?" Remus inquired, his voice carrying both professional interest and concern. "Is there a viable way to mass-produce the magical cores that are essential for the functional aspects of our products?"

    Bryan''s slow head shake was apanied by a thoughtful frown. "Not at present," he admitted. "We''re facing a significant challenge there. There isn''t a single workshop in the current market capable of producing magical cores with theplexity our products require. While I''ve sessfully designed the theoretical framework, we don''t have the infrastructure and expertise for mass production.

    For now, we can only rely on me to manually engrave the magical runes by hand. Creating Mass production machinery for theseponents would require highly specialized knowledge that even I don''t have. In the short term, we''ll need to rely on the expertise of the goblin workshop alchemists. Of course, if you believe it''s necessary, we could also consider recruiting external talent with high sries."

    Remus continued walking forward, his brow furrowed in concentration. "The research and development costs will be astronomical, Bryan," he observed, choosing his words carefully. "While we''ve secured an agreement with the goblins, it would be unrealistic to expect them to continue providing unlimited funding indefinitely."

    "Your assessment is absolutely correct," Bryan responded with calm assurance. "We can''t rely solely on goblin investment, which is why I''ve developed a pre-sale strategy. Currently, we have two fully functional prototypes. I''ve already promised to donate one to the Ministry of Magic through Fudge. The second prototype will be entrusted to you for demonstration purposes."

    He continued outlining his marketing strategy: "We''ll begin with aprehensive advertising campaign in the Daily Prophet, extending to prominent newspapers in countries with developed magicalmunities. My reputation,bined with the name of Hogwarts, should generate significant interest. You''ll be able to conduct on-site demonstrations with the prototype for potential buyers."

    "For interested parties, we''ll implement a contract system requiring advance deposits to support our ongoing research and development efforts. We''ll set a reasonable delivery timeline of six months from the contract date. If we achieve mass production capabilities within that period, there won''t be any problems. If not, I''m prepared to manually produce the coreponents to fulfill ourmitments until we perfect the semi-automation process for production and supply¡ª"

    After several moments of contemtive silence, Remus nodded, acknowledging theprehensive logic of the n.

    "Don''t let yourself feel overwhelmed, Remus," Bryan said with a reassuring smile. "You won''t be facing these challenges alone. I''ll also be actively involved, and if we encounter serious difficulties, Dumbledore himself won''t hesitate to provide support. Remember what I told you - this workshop isn''t just a business venture. We''re establishing this workshop to ensure that if a war breaks out in the future, Hogwarts will maintain its financial independence and won''t be financially constrained. Ah, look - we''ve arrived."

    Before them stood an impressive industrialplex covering an area equivalent to two Quidditch fields - a medium-sized facility by the standards of the alchemy industrial district.

    The factorypound housed four primary manufacturing buildings and an administrative building that proudly presented the distinctive ''Gringotts'' style architecture with white marble exterior walls, looking grand and imposing.

    In front of the administrative building, the workshop''s entire workforce stood in neat rows, waiting for their new boss, while Ragnok, apanied by a group of goblin security personnel, maintained a vignt watch over therge iron gates.

    "That''s Ragnok," Bryan exined, smiling at the approaching goblin. "He''s the representative sent by Gringotts to help establish and stabilize the workshop''s operations. Remember, Remus - there''s no need for excessive formality with them. You''re the decision-maker here; they''re just your subordinates, regardless of their species or background."

    "I understand," Remus replied, drawing a deep, steadying breath to calm his nerves.

    For Remus, it was impossible not to be nervous. Although he had been through a lot in the Wizarding world over the years, and had extensive connections and experiences, he had never managed or operated a workshop before. Especially since Bryan had made it clear that if this workshop could be sessfully established, it would be of great significance to them.

    "Mr. Watson!" The one-armed goblin Ragnok stopped in front of Bryan, slightly out of breath from his hurried approach. He did a respectful bow, his remaining arm crossed over his chest in traditional goblin fashion. "The entire workshop staff has assembled and awaits your guidance!"

    "Allow me to introduce Mr. Lupin," Bryan gestured toward Remus. "As previously discussed, he will be taking full responsibility for the workshop''s production and operational management going forward. Mr. Lupin speaks with myplete authority, and I expect him to receive the same level of respect and cooperation you would show me."

    "Of course, of course," Ragnok quickly shifted his respectful posture toward Remus. "It is indeed a great honor to work alongside you, Mr. Lupin. You can rest assured that every member of this workshop will fullyply with your management decisions. Would you care to address the assembled workers?"

    Except for the half-year he spent teaching at Hogwarts, Remus hadn''t had many opportunities to receive genuine respect over the years, especially from a group of proud goblins. He pressed his lips together, ncing back at Bryan and Sirius, drawing strength from their encouraging smiles.

    "I''m equally honored to work with you, Mr. Ragnok," Remus said, his clenched fist gradually rxing as he took another deep breath. Turning back to the goblin, he gave a warm smile and asked. "Shall we greet our staff together?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0504 Return (Bonus-chapter)

    0504 Return (Bonus-chapter)

    Bryan deliberately hung back from the factory entrance, knowing that his presence - given his reputation and influence - might inadvertently steal focus from Remus''s pivotal moment. The two men stood at a distance from the imposing main gate as they watched Remus guide the assembled workers into the gleaming white industrial building.

    The scene before them stirred deep emotions in both men''s hearts, they both felt rather sentimental.

    "I never thought I''d see this day¡ª" Sirius managed to get out, his words catching in his throat as he sniffled, the sound carrying both unrestrained joy and a deep, lingering sadness for all the years of struggle.

    Running a trembling hand through his dark hair, Sirius continued, his voice gruff in memories, "You know, Bryan, among our group back then, Remus always drew the shortest straw. He couldn''t find work,ndlords turned him away, and there were nights when he could barely scrape together enough for a proper meal. Yet¡ª" Sirius''s voice grew heavy with frustration and perhaps admiration, "¡ªhe constantly refused any financial assistance from James, Lily, or me, no matter how desperate things became."

    Bryan turned to look at Sirius, noting how the man was frantically wiping at his reddened eyes with the sleeve of his robes. He suddenly felt a wave of sympathy at the sight; beyond Remus''s personal struggles, Sirius''s entire generation had been through storms that would have crushed weaker spirits. The First Wizarding War, betrayal, loss, and years of aftermath had left deep scars on them all.

    "James and Lily," Sirius whispered, his voice barely audible, "they would be so relieved, so proud to see Remus today."

    "Life isn''t meant to be a mad dash to the finish line, The key is learning to appreciate and adapt to the new scenery that appear along the way." Bryan said with a smile. Then, his expression turned thoughtful. "Speaking of new scenery, I couldn''t help but notice that Tonks seems to have developed quite an interest in our friend Remus."

    "Tonks?!" Sirius''s red-rimmed eyes widenedically, his mouth falling open in shock. "That girl and Remus?!" The realization hit him like a Stunning Spell, and he pped his forehead in theatrical frustration. "Well, that certainly exins why she''s been pestering me with endless questions about our Hogwarts days! I thought she was just being nostalgic!"

    A spark of pure excitement ignited in Sirius''s storm-gray eyes as his mind raced ahead to possibilities. "Does this mean..." he practically bounced on his feet, "Could Remus actually have a chance at having children of his own?!"

    "Perhaps¡ª" Bryan responded with an amused chuckle, shaking his head at Sirius''s enthusiasm. Then, his tone grew more serious as he turned the conversation. "What about you, Sirius? Have you given any thought to your own future ns?"

    The question seemed to catch Sirius off-guard. While he had been practically glowing while discussing Remus''s prospects, his expression now grewplicated. After a pause, he released a heavy sigh that carried years of regret and determination. "My future is simple¡ªI just want to be there for Harry, to watch him grow into the man James and Lily would have been proud of."

    "You know," Bryan said calmly, "in that way, you and Severus share a remarkable simrity."

    Both men, he thought silently, were bound by chains of devotion to Harry''s parents, willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of old promises and enduring love.

    "Oh, that git," Sirius grumbled reflexively.

    Their philosophical discussion of life paths ended there. While waiting for Remus toe out from his first meeting with the staff, they passed the time in casual conversation about lighter matters. Bryan took the opportunity to warn Sirius that his position at the Ministry might be more difficult following Remus''s incident, but Sirius appeared remarkably unconcerned.

    Bryan also understood why¡ªbeyond his own considerable connections, Sirius had his ownwork within the Ministry. Many of his former Hogwarts ssmates now upied influential positions within various departments. More importantly, despite hisplicated history, Sirius''s status as Lord of the Ancient and Most Noble House of ck still carried considerable weight in certain circles.

    Even if Rufus Scrimgeour harbored intentions of moving against him, he would need to carefully consider the political consequences of targeting someone with such deep roots in the upper echelons.

    A full hour passed before Remus finally emerged from the office building, surrounded by an enthusiastic crowd of workers. Their excited chatter carried across the grounds as Remus bid them farewell, his usually reserved demeanor reced by barely contained excitement as he jogged toward his waiting friends.

    The excitement radiating from his eyes reminded them both of a young wizard who had just received unprecedented "Outstanding" marks on all his O.W.L. examinations.

    "I see you''ve be quite the popr figure?" Bryanmented with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smile.

    "The workers were caught off guard by the workshop''s transformation!" Remus eximed, practically vibrating with excitement. "I assured them we''d resume production operations soon, and I even felt confident enough to promise them all a ten percent pay increase!"

    While most adult wizards possessed abundant magical energy, Remus''s lycanthropy had forced him into extended periods of inactivity over the past decade. Now, with the responsibility of managing this workshop resting on his shoulders, he seemed to have found not just purpose but a source of confidence in his abilities.

    He eagerly shared his vision with Bryan and Sirius, his rapid-fire delivery of ns and possibilities making the prematurely gray-streaked hair on his forehead seem ipatible with his youthful enthusiasm.

    "Time is of the essence¡ª" Remus said, already mentally mapping out his next steps. "This afternoon, I''m heading to Italy with Ragnok. My goal is to have all theponent cooperation agreements signed and sealed within the month. Meanwhile, we''ll be renovating the assembly workshop to amodate the production lines for the new machinery!"

    Theplexity of the tasks ahead¡ªproduction scheduling, operational logistics, sales strategies¡ªwould have seemed intimidating to most, but looking at Remus now it was clear he couldn''t wait to immerse himself in every detail of the business.

    "I''m afraid I need to return to Hogwarts as well¡ª" Bryan interjected, addressing both Sirius and Remus. "The delegations from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are scheduled to arrive tomorrow afternoon, and I need to go back early to prepare. ording to the official schedule, the first task is set for November 24th. If you have time, you''re both more than wee toe and watch¡ª"

    "The Triwizard Tournament," Sirius interjected, his face showing concern rather than the excitement one might expect. His gaze fixed intently on Bryan as he continued, "Surely you and Dumbledore have taken precautions? This kind of high-profile event... if anyone harbors ill intentions toward Harry, they''ll certainly try to use this as an opportunity to orchestrate some kind of ''ident''¡ª"

    A deep, abyss-like light flickered in Bryan''s eyes. "Don''t worry, Harry won''t be in danger."

    With Bryan''s assurance, Sirius seemed less worried, but he still couldn''tpletely rx. Harry was too much like his father; often, it wasn''t trouble finding him, but him finding trouble.

    "Oh, before I forget¡ª" Remus suddenly eximed, reaching into his robes to withdraw a money pouch. He extended it toward Bryan exining, "This contains a thousand Galleons for Fred and George¡ª"

    His expression turned apologetic as he continued, " I''ve realized that managing this workshop will demand far more of my attention than I initially anticipated. I won''t be able to fulfill my promise to help them establish their shop. However, I made them a promise regarding this investment, and I intend to keep at least that part. So, could you please help me pass it on? I''ll write to Fred and George exining the situation personally¡ª"

    "Those clever little troublemakers seem to be quite adept at securing fundingtely¡ª" Sirius said with a grin, momentarily setting aside his worries about Harry. "During the Quidditch World Cup final, Fred, George, and even Ron participated in Bagman''s betting pool. They all managed to predict the oue perfectly. By my estimation, they must have walked away with at least a thousand or two thousand Galleons from Bagman!"

    "Bagman''s betting pool?" Bryan''s eyebrows shot up in surprise before he shook his head with a knowing smile. Some things never change, and Ludo Bagman''s fondness for gambling was apparently one of them.

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    "Oh, thank heavens you actually remembered to return to us?"

    When Bryan appeared directly in Dumbledore''s office via Fawkes to report on Remus''s situation, he found Professor McGonagall already there. After recovering from her initial surprise at his sudden appearance, she immediately expressed her displeasure. "Why didn''t you simply wait until after the Triwizard Tournament to grace us with your presence, Bryan? Then you''d have had absolutely nothing to do!"

    "As long as my sry continues to arrive punctually, I have noints, ahem¡ª" Bryan chuckled, but seeing Professor McGonagall''s stern look, he quickly transformed hisughter into a discrete cough. "I mean, Headmaster Dumbledore is the one who makes these decisions, Professor¡ª"

    "We always value diverse perspectives, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore said with a gentle smile. He had obviously already known that Remus was fine and seemed satisfied with Bryan''s handling of the situation.

    "We were just discussing tomorrow evening''s menu, given that our guests may not be ustomed to Hogwarts food, we need to consider some dietary adjustments." Professor McGonagall continued quickly, determined to keep the conversation on track. "Also, I''m wondering if we should convince the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students to stay in the castle. They''reing from so far away, and Hogwarts must show proper courtesy and etiquette. Oh, and there''s the Goblet of Fire!"

    "The Goblet of Fire?" Bryan''s tone sharpened with interest, recognizing this as far more significant than menu nning and sleeping arrangements.

    "Ministry officials delivered the Goblet of Fire to Hogwarts just yesterday¡ª" Dumbledore exined, his bright blue eyes fixed meaningfully on Bryan. "In your absence, we temporarily ced it in Argus''s office. However, I believe it would be more appropriate for you to take custody of it, Bryan. Argus has been quite worried about potential tampering and he hasn''t slept a wink since he began vigntly watching his office."

    "Ah, I see¡ª" Bryan replied with a nomittal smile. "You can leave it to me, then. I''ll ensure our mischievous young wizards don''t find any opportunities to meddle with it."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0505 Arrival

    0505 Arrival

    The crisp autumn air ofte October had settled over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, bringing with it an electric atmosphere of anticipation that hadn''t been felt within the castle walls for generations.

    It had been precisely a week since the heads of houses had made their announcement throughout the castle: Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic would arrive on the evening of October 30th for participating in the legendary Triwizard Tournament. Though the students in Physical Education ss had gotten an early glimpse of this exciting news, the official announcement had transformed the usual academic atmosphere into one crackling with excitement and spection.

    The castle itself seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation. Even the professors, many of whom had spent decades teaching at Hogwarts were caught up in the growing excitement. They had never witnessed such a grand asion of arge-scale visit from other magical schools.

    As the day drew nearer, subtle yet noticeable changes began manifesting throughout the castle.

    The most apparent transformation, as Hermione had pointed out, And Harry & Ron also noticed was in the demeanor and appearance of their female ssmates, particrly those in the upper years. Where once simple hair ties and practical styles had been good enough, now borate braids, enchanted hair essories, and meticulously crafted hairstyles decorated the heads of most Upper-year young witches throughout the school.

    The professors, too, seemed to have undergone a transformation of some sorts, teaching their lessons with renewed vigor and passion, as if they had fears of potential criticism from visiting students, which would indeed be embarrassing.

    The weather had also taken a turn towards winter byte October. Despite the brilliant sunshine that painted the grounds in golden light, the air carried a chill that left Harry, Ron, and Seamus shivering as they made their way from their cozy Gryffindor dormitory down to the Great Hall.

    The female students typically woke up earlier than boys, and Hermione was no exception to this. As Harry''s eyes found her familiar figure at the Gryffindor table, he noticed she was already well into her morning routine. Her S.P.E.W. badge gleamed on her robes as she sat before a nearly finished te of scrambled eggs, and her milk ss was also half empty, telling she''d been awake and here for quite some time already.

    "Blimey!" Ron''s exmation carried a note of genuine wonder as he dropped onto the bench across from Hermione, his eyes wandering across the Great Hall''s transformed interior. "Would you look at this ce? It''spletely different!"

    Indeed, Ron''s amazement was reasonable. The Great Hall had undergone a magnificent transformation overnight, as if the castle itself had put on its finest attire for the approaching arrival of the visiting schools.

    Massive silk banners poured from the enchanted ceiling, each representing the four noble houses of Hogwarts. The Gryffindor banner was in its bold red silk and dazzling gold lion, while Ravenw''s banner glistened in elegant blue silk, its bronze eagle soaring proudly. Hufflepuff''s banner glowed warmly in yellow silk, with its ck badger, and Slytherin''s banner flowed in emerald green silk with its silver serpent gleaming.

    But it was the banner behind the staff table that truly dominated the hall''s decorative arrangement. It disyed the Hogwarts coat of arms in its full glory: the four house mascots ¨C lion, eagle, badger, and snake ¨C united in perfect harmony around arge letter H, symbolizing the unity of the school despite its diverse houses.

    The usual morning chatter had taken on a different atmosphere, with lively discussions erupting at all four house tables. The typical topics of homework assignments and Quidditch scores (<em>not of school as nopetitions were held this year</em>) had been temporarily forgotten, reced by eager spection about the approaching visitors and the Triwizard Tournament.

    Near the end of the Gryffindor table, discussion between Ginny and Colin captured the attention of many nearby students. Colin leaned forward his eyes bright with curiosity as he asked what seemed like the question on everyone''s minds.

    "How do you think they''ll make their way here?" Colin''s voice carried the infectious enthusiasm. "The Hogwarts Express, perhaps? They''ll need to bring enough supplies for the entire academic year ¨C just imagine the mountain of trunks and luggage they''ll need to transport!"

    Ginny shook her head thoughtfully and said, "That would be quite problematic, wouldn''t it? They''d have to somehow reach London first just to board the Hogwarts Express, and with such arge group of foreign wizards and witches, they''d be bound to draw attention from the Muggles."

    Harry, who had been listening intently to their conversation, found his thoughts initially drifting to the most obvious magical transportation method for him ¨C Flying broomsticks.

    The image of dozens of students soaring through the clouds on their brooms briefly captured his imagination, but his practical experience with long-distance flying quickly dismissed the notion. Even as someone who lived for the thrill of Quidditch and considered himself quitefortable on a broomstick, Harry had to acknowledge the impracticality of such a journey. The physical strain of crossing multiple national borders by broomstick, not to mention the logistical nightmares of weather conditions and maintaining secrecy, made it an unrealistic option.

    His contemtion of magical transportation methods was interrupted by George''s frustrated voice as he slumped into a seat near Ron.

    "Professor McGonagall''s being absolutely tight-lipped about the champion selection process," He grumbled, stabbing at his breakfast with unusual force. "All I got for my troubles was a stern reminder to concentrate on transfiguring my roon properly. As if that''s more important than this!"

    Ron''s face fell slightly at this news, and he turned to Harry with a look of determination in his eyes.

    "You know, I''ve been thinking," He began, his voice taking on that particr tone it always did when he was trying to convince himself of something. "The tournament tasks themselves ¨C they can''t possibly all require participants to be of age, can they? I mean, think about all the dangerous situations we''ve handled already. If we could just find a way to participate--" His voice trailed off momentarily before he added with particr emphasis, "A thousand Galleons would certainly make up for our loss at the Quidditch World Cup, wouldn''t it?"

    Harry remained tactfully silent, knowing full well the source of Ron''s obsession. The incident with the leprechaun gold from Ludo Bagman still irked Ron deeply. Harry himself found it difficult to believe that the jovial, seemingly straightforward Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports would deceive students over some gold galleons.

    Most likely, Bagman had just made a mistake, but Harry knew that Ron and his twin brothers had written to Bagman to inquire about this matter but they had never received a reply, which made the truth of the matter somewhat suspicious.

    Hermione, who had been engrossed in what appeared to be a particrly thick book about magicalpetitions throughout history, suddenly looked up from her reading, her eyshes fluttered as she prepared to suggest what was undoubtedly going to be a well-researched opinion on the matter. However, her words were cut short as her attention was caught by an unexpected figure entering the Great Hall.

    "Professor Watson?" The surprise in Hermione''s voice drew several heads in the direction of her gaze.

    Harry felt his own excitement bubble up as he whispered in surprise, "When did he get back? Do you think this means Snape will have to give up teaching thatst period this morning?"

    The prospect of any reduction in time spent in the Potions ssroom with Snape was always a cause for celebration among the Gryffindors.

    Surprisingly, Professor Watson didn''t head to the staff table but instead made his way directly toward their section of the Gryffindor table. Hermione thought he might being to ask aboutst Friday''s and this Wednesday''s Physical Education training sessions, but instead, Professor Watson beckoned to Fred and George.

    "Fred, George, a moment of your time, if you please,"

    With identical looks of confusion on their faces, they rose to follow him out of the Great Hall.

    "What do you reckon they''ve done this time?" Ron''s brow furrowed as he watched his brothers'' leaving backs. The twins'' reputation for causing trouble was deep-rooted, and being summoned by a professor usually spelled trouble.

    "I suspect," Hermione began, fixing Ron with one of her meaningful looks that meant she had already pieced together the puzzle, "that Professor Watson is taking preemptive measures. There will undoubtedly be students attempting to circumvent the rules and try to find ways to participate in the champion selection for the tournament, and knowing Fred and George..."

    The twins'' returned sooner than anyone expected but puzzlingly, their expressions were rather strange¡ª they looked happy yet notably disappointed. More curiously still, George''s robes seemed to be concealing something considerable, creating an obvious bulge in the robes.

    "What happened?" Ron''s question burst forth the moment his brothers settled into their seats, his curiosity getting the better of him.

    "Well, the good news is¡ª" George''s voice carried a distinctive note of triumph as he carefully pulled back a portion of his robes, revealing arge money pouch that clinked nicely with every movement. His eyebrows rose with barely contained pride as he announced, "We got Remus''s investment ¨C a full thousand Galleons!"

    <strong>ng!</strong>

    The sound of Ron''s spoon ttering against his te echoed through their section of the table with a clear ring.

    "But there''s bad news," Fred interjected, releasing a heavy sigh. "Remus won''t be able to partner with us in opening the shop. ording to Professor Watson, he''s taken on the management of some workshop and simply doesn''t have the time to spare for our project¡ª"

    "Remus is managing a workshop?" Harry''s green eyes widened behind his round sses, genuine surprise tinging his voice. "Whose business would that be?"

    "We tried to get that information out of Professor Watson," George''s expression soured as he cast an irritated nce toward the staff table, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Watson were engaged in what appeared to be a serious conversation. "But you know how adults are ¨C they always keep secrets from us!"

    Harry''s face scrunched in concentration, looking simr to his cousin Dudley attempting to solve a math problem. "But who would be willing to hire Remus, considering... well, I mean... besides Professor Dumbledore?"

    He left the specific mention of Lupin''s condition unspoken, but his meaning was clear to those who knew the truth.

    Harry looked at Hermione and found that she was looking thoughtfully at Professor Watson who was talking to Snape.

    "Oh!" Harry suddenly eximed realizing. "That''s possible!"

    "A thousand Galleons..." Ron mumbled in a daze, "Can you imagine, Harry? That could have been us too. If only Bagman hadn''t..." His voice trailed off before strengthening with determination. "I need to find him. Maybe Dad can help recover what we''re owed. We won fair and square, after all."

    The news of Remus bing a workshop manager and the twins'' receiving a solid thousand Galleons briefly became a hot topic within Harry''s circle. Ron was distracted all day, barely paying attention to the impending arrival of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons.

    But except for their small group, the rest of the students remained hooked on the imminent arrival of their international guests.

    The excitement continued to build throughout the day, creating an almost tangible current of anticipation that flowed through the castle''s corridors.

    No one paid attention in ss, all thinking about the arrival of students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang that evening. Even the normally dreaded Potions ss seemed less oppressive than usual, as if the uing celebrations had somewhat tempered even Snape''s brooding nature.

    During the final morning period of Physical Education ss, many students repeatedly attempted to extract information from Bryan about the tournament''s tasks and selection procedures, though their efforts were fruitless.

    When the final bell of the afternoon sses finally rang, its sound triggered an immediate flurry of activity throughout the castle. Harry, Ron, and Hermione practically sprinted to Gryffindor Tower. They hastily dropped off their bags and books in their dormitories as instructed, donned their cloaks against the evening chill, then hurried back down the staircases to join the gathering in the entrance hall.

    It was a cold, crisp evening, with night falling and a pale, translucent moon already hanging above the Forbidden Forest.

    The heads of houses moved with efficiency among their students, maintaining order with a mixture of sternmands and gentle guidance.

    The entire staff, except for Hagrid, had assembled in an impressive line behind the students, their formal robes and serious expressions giving an air of solemness to the asion. Even Filch had donned his moldy tailcoat for this formal asion.

    Professor Watson and Headmaster Dumbledore were the only two professors standing in front of the student lines, facing the direction of the ck Lake, their expressions calm.

    The waiting crowd had begun to show signs of restlessness when Dumbledore''s voice suddenly rang out across the gathering, "Ah, unless I''m very much mistaken, the Beauxbatons delegation has arrived!"

    Bryan lifted his head slightly, his gaze deepening.

    Everything was finally about to begin.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0506 Influence

    0506 Influence

    The crisp October air hung heavy with anticipation as the assembled crowd stood there waiting. Following Dumbledore''s reminder, the gathering of young wizards finally spotted their target. High above the ancient Forbidden Forest, where towering pines swayed gently in the autumn breeze, and against a magnificent backdrop of snow-capped mountains whose peaks pierced through wispy clouds, a mysterious ck speck materialized in the vast sky.

    The gathered students watched in joint astonishment as the object moved with astonishing pace, its size doubling and redoubling with each passing moment. The speck transformed into a blur, then into a more substantial shadow that darted through the air with remarkable elegance despite its growing mass.

    "What in Merlin''s name is that!" Justin Finch-Fletchley, from Hufflepuff with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, eximed with excitement. "Could it be a giant flying carpet?"

    His imagination, like those of his fellow students, ran wild with possibilities.

    Standing nearby, Hermione wore her characteristic expression of academic disapproval. Under normal circumstances, she would haveunched into a detailed lecture about the illegality of flying carpets in British magical territory,plete with records from the relevant Ministry regtions. However, the extraordinary nature of this asion blocked her usual instructive impulses, and she maintained an uncharacteristic silence.

    The young wizards tracked the enormous object''s trajectory as it cut through the deep blue sky, its approach apanied by an increasingly audible whistle. Dennis Creevey, his small body practically vibrating with excitement, evenpared it to a house dashing through the air.

    The truth was very close to Dennis''s description.

    When the mysterious object finally revealed itself fully as it soared over Hagrid''s hut, the sight drew gasps of amazement from the crowd. There, suspended in mid-air, was a huge powder-blue carriage pulled by a dozen magnificent winged horses¨C each of those was a pure Abraxan, simr in skin tone to palominos but as big as an elephant in their sizes.

    The carriage''snding was also spectacr. To counter the tremendous momentum built up during its flight, the massive vehicle touched down with an earth-shattering impact that sent tremors through the ground.

    The sound was like a p of thunder, causing many of the younger students to cry out in rm. Professor McGonagall, though visibly startled herself (her emerald-green witch''s hat had been knocked askew), quickly restored order with a sharpmand for propriety, reminding the students of their duty to represent Hogwarts with dignity.

    As the dust cloud slowly dissipated, it revealed a deep furrow in the previously spotless grounds, stretching well over a hundred feet across the lush grass. Filch observed this damage to his meticulously maintainedwn with dismay, his facial features creasing into deep furrows of disapproval.

    The moment Madame Maxime emerged from the carriage; Bryan could hear the predicted chorus of astonished gasps from the students behind him. Despite their preparation for meeting foreign wizards, few had anticipated encountering someone, apart from trolls who could rival Hagrid''s extraordinary height.

    Led by the professors, a round of enthusiastic apuse erupted outside the castle. This warm wee visibly pleased the tall woman who had stepped into the golden light spilling from the castle''s entrance hall. Her face softened into a gracious smile as she walked forward to greet Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson, extending a hand that glittered with many sparkling jewels.

    The difference in height between the visitors and hosts created an almostical scene during the formal greetings. Even Dumbledore, who stood quite tall himself, had to just incline his head to kiss her hand in the traditional greeting, while Professor Watson was forced to rise onto his tiptoes to aplish the same courtesy ¨C a sight that drew several poorly concealed smiles from the watching students.

    As Hogwarts'' figurehead, Dumbledore took the lead role in these formal proceedings, with Bryan respectfully stepping back to stand beside the Headmaster after the initial ceremonial greetings.

    However, Madame Maxime had other ideas. After exchanging the expected pleasantries with Dumbledore, she turned her attention to Bryan, herrge, dark eyes, which held a curious quality, fixed upon him with intense interest.

    "I ''eard about zat terrible attack at ze Quidditch World Cup Final, Watson¡ª" Madame Maxime''s voice reverberated with a deep, melodious quality that seemed to fill the entire courtyard. Her French ent, though noticeable, only added to her air of sophistication. "I ''ad several students who were present at ze time. Zey returned to Beauxbatons with ze most extraordinary tales. Zey described ze scene to me in vivid detail ¨C your magical power is truly awe-inspiring, Watson¡ª"

    A hushed silence fell over the grounds as students strained to catch every word of this conversation. The pride radiating from the Hogwarts students was almost tangible as they heard their professor being praised by the headmistress of Beauxbatons. Many straightened their backs and lifted their chins, as if they themselves had received thepliment.

    Bryan''s response was modest, his lips quirking into a slight smile as he observed the gigantic headmistress.

    "Yes¡ª" Bryan said, genuine surprise coloring his tone at her choice to raise this topic in such a public setting. His eyes sparkled with barely concealed amusement as he continued, "You''ve already witnessed my abilities in Paris, haven''t you, Madame? I''m quite skilled at creating impressive illusions."

    "Oh, not at all!" The protest came immediately from several Hogwarts girls, their voices rising in unified disagreement. Their defensive reaction to their professor''s modesty drew knowing smiles from both Dumbledore and Madame Maxime, thetter looking particrly pleased with this disy of loyalty.

    As Madame Maxime stepped aside, she revealed her students to the waiting crowd, and the contrast between the two schools became immediately apparent.

    The Beauxbatons delegation stood in perfect formation, their powder-blue silk uniforms creating a glitter of movement that caught the fading daylight. Each garment had been expertly tailored to its wearer, the fabric flowing like water with every slight movement.

    "They''re so fancy!" Lavender''s admiring exmation carried clearly across the gathering. Her eyes were fixed on the silk uniforms that seemed to embody luxury and old-world aristocratic refinement. The difference between these elegant outfits and the practical ck robes of Hogwarts was in and impossible to ignore.

    "Yeah,pared to them, we look quite shabby!"

    Parvati''s resentfulment followed quickly, her dark eyes darting usingly toward Professor McGonagall, who had just ordered her to remove her decorative butterfly hairpin which was her only ornament.

    "Ridiculous¡ª" Hermione muttered, her tone quite disdainful, though it was unclear whether her scorn was directed at her ssmates'' superficial concerns or the impractical nature of the Beauxbatons uniforms. As her practical nature clearly found fault with the entire situation.

    Harry observed the scene thoughtfully, noting that while the Beauxbatons students certainly looked morous in their formal attire, their choice of clothing seemed poorly suited to the Scottish climate. The silk uniforms, while beautiful, had little protection against the biting October wind. There was no room beneath the precisely fitted garments for warm woolen sweaters or extra thermalyers. Already, many of the visiting students were visibly shivering, clutching their silk scarves tightly around their shoulders in a pointless attempt to ward off the cold.

    Just as the Hogwarts students were discussing the Beauxbatons students'' attire.

    "Meester Watson¡ª!" A young witch emerged from behind Madame Maxime. With one elegant motion, she pulled off her scarf, revealing her face. Her hair cascaded down her back in a silvery waterfall, catching what remained of the day''s light and reflecting it back with an almost ethereal glow.

    <strong>Hiss¡ª</strong>

    A collective gasp erupted from the Hogwarts queues. Many students stared incredulously at the attractive female student, their eyes nearly popping out of their sockets!

    "Incredible¡ª" Ron''s voice came hoarse and filled with wonder, his eyes wide with amazement. "This girl... wow, she''s really something!"

    His reaction spoke for many of his fellow students who seemed equally captivated by the Beauxbatons girl.

    "Ah, it''s you, Miss Dcour¡ª" Bryan''s lips curved into a polite smile as he addressed her. "Wee to Hogwarts."

    The formal greeting, delivered with diplomatic courtesy but little warmth, seemed to displease the young witch.

    Fleur''s nose wrinkled slightly, a gesture that somehow managed to be both charming and disapproving, but before she could voice whatever thought had provoked this reaction, Madame Maxime intervened with maternal affection. "We''ll catch upter, Fleur¡ª"

    Perhaps because Hogwarts students saw Professor Watson every day, they don''t have a deep understanding of his current status in the wider wizarding world. The Beauxbatons students, however, viewed him through a different lens entirely. The duel at the Quidditch World Cup final had elevated Bryan Watson to near-legendary status in their eyes, and their reactions made this abundantly clear.

    As Madame Maxime guided her students toward the entrance hall, each Beauxbatons student who passed by Professor Watson eyed him with awe and barely contained curiosity. Those who had wrapped their heads against the cold hastily removed their scarves, not wanting to appear discourteous. Their behavior caused a surge of pride among the watching Hogwarts students, who suddenly saw their professor through renewed eyes.

    "If Dumbledore were sensible enough¡ª" Draco snickered secretly in the Slytherin ranks, "he''d step down right now."

    Draco''s words sparked agreement among the Slytherins. Every Slytherin student couldn''t wait for Dumbledore to leave and for Professor Watson, who came from Slytherin, to take over.

    "Quiet¡ª"Snape, standing behind the Slytherin ranks, heard his house students'' discussions andzily flicked a few strands of hair from his forehead as he spoke. But there was almost no sense ofmand in his tone.

    Only after Madame Maxime and her elegant entourage had disappeared into the castle did Ron and his fellow students reluctantly tear their gazes away from the entrance. Many of the boys released disappointed sighs, their attention now turning to spection about the uing arrival of the Durmstrang delegation. Excited whispers spread through the crowd as students debated whether their next guests might arrive in carriages pulled by dragons.

    The waiting continued, but the romantic atmosphere created by the Beauxbatons arrival gradually gave way to physical difort as the temperature continued to drop. Even students wearing their thickest winter cloaks were shivering in the biting wind. Conversations dwindled as the young wizards focused on staying warm, their earlier excitement tempered by the desire toplete the weing ceremony as quickly as possible.

    Harry''s gaze drifted longingly toward the Quidditch pitch; its tall stands barely visible in the gathering dusk. Under normal circumstances, he would have been there at this hour,pleting his daily training routine. The thought of vigorous exercise seemed particrly appealing now, as he imagined the warmth it would bring to his cold-numbed limbs. Instead, he stood here with his fellow students, foolishly waiting in the growing darkness for their final guests to arrive.

    In the midst of this anticipatory silence, Bryan''s soft observation carried clearly to those nearby. "Madame Maxime looks no different from a few months ago, and the young wizards she brought seem very lively¡ª"

    Dumbledore''s response was equally leisurely, his gentle smile was visible in the growing darkness. "I agree with your observation, Bryan¡ª"

    The grounds fell into expectant silence once more as all eyes turned skyward, watching for the first sign of the Durmstrang delegation''s arrival.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0507 The Banquet

    0507 The Banquet

    The arrival of the Durmstrang delegation was just as spectacr and awe-inspiring as that of Beauxbatons, though in an entirely different way. The autumn evening air was crisp and clear, with a brilliant full moon casting its silvery light across the dark waters of the ck Lake.

    "How on earth did that ship get here?" Neville eximed in utter amazement, as an enormous and magnificent ship emerged from the depths of the ck Lake. Illuminated by the moonlight, it appeared almost ethereal, like a ghost ship from maritime legends.

    The polished wooden nks gleamed wetly, while dozens of portholes cast warm, golden light across the rippling surface of theke.

    "The ck Lake isn''t connected to any ocean! It''spletelyndlocked!"

    Hermione stood beside him with her brow furrowed in deep concentration. Her fingers absently twirled a strand of her bushy brown hair as she contemted.

    "They surely didn''t sail here through conventional means," She pondered thoughtfully, her eyes following the water still streaming from the ship''s ropes. "I guess the ship must have some sort of dimensionalpression charm, allowing it to change size at will,bined with a specialized form of magical transportation that allows it to materialize in any sufficient body of water within a particr distance."

    "Cool!" Seamus eximed with unrestrained enthusiasm. He drew in a sharp breath of admiration as the ship''s massive anchor sshed into the dark waters with a tremendous crash, sending ripples across the previously mirror-smooth surface of theke.

    The Durmstrang students began disembarking from their ship with military meticulousness. Through the softly glowing portholes, Harry and his fellow Hogwarts students could see their silhouettes moving around. As they emerged onto the deck, their body frames were imposing and somewhat intimidating.

    Harry''s initial impression was that they all had the same hulking build as Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy''s dumb bodyguards. However, as the delegation made their way across the slopingwn, illuminated by the weing light spilling from Hogwarts'' great oak doors, Harry realized their bulky frame was mostly due to their distinctive clothing.

    Each Durmstrang student was wrapped in thick, heavy cloaks made of some kind of rough, matted fur that appeared both warm and somewhat wild in nature. The material looked rough and primitivepared to the sleek, silver furs worn by their headmaster, who led the group with confident steps toward the castle.

    "Ah, Dumbledore!" The man called out with exaggerated warmth, his voice carrying clearly across the grounds. His ent was thick but urate, each word carefully pronounced as he approached the steps where Dumbledore waited. "It''s been far too long, hasn''t it? I trust you''re well?"?"

    "Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied with genuine warmth, his bright blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles as he gave a weing smile.

    Karkaroff''s voice maintained its honeyed tone, though there was something artificial about his warmth that Harry couldn''t help but notice.

    Though he matched Dumbledore in height and slenderness, the simrities ended there. Where Dumbledore radiated genuine warmth and kindness, Karkaroff seemed to dress his facial features in a carefully constructed mask. As he gazed up at the towering silhouette of Hogwarts Castle, his thin lips curved into what appeared to be a pensive smile, but his eyes remained as cold and calcting as chips of ice, showing no real emotion.

    As Karkaroff began to lower his head, to inquire if Beauxbatons had arrived even though the massive powder-blue carriage bearing the Beauxbatons crest and its magnificent twelve-winged Abraxan horses were clearly visible nearby.

    As he looked away, he finally noticed a figure who had quietly emerged from behind Dumbledore. The man had been standing there all along, watching the proceedings with an inconspicuous smile, but Karkaroff had been too preupied with his grand entrance to notice this while climbing the slope.

    "Ah, Professor Watson!" Karkaroff''s face split into a wide grin that revealed his yellowing teeth. "I was just wondering why I hadn''t caught sight of you!"

    His voice carried a note of calcted pleasure, like a merchant discovering an unexpected opportunity as he asked, "How have you been?"

    "Just idling away the time, Professor Karkaroff¡ª" Bryan responded with characteristic modesty, his voice carrying a hint of amusement that showed he knew exactly what wasing next.

    "You''re still as modest and graceful as ever, Professor Watson¡ª" Karkaroff strode forward with eagerness. His silver furs swished dramatically with each step as he turned back toward his students. "Even after aplishing such remarkable feats. Oh,e look, Viktor, this is the Bryan Watson you''ve been talking about for months!"

    Karkaroff gestured to the group of burly students behind him, then spun back to Bryan with the air of a proud father showing off his most promising son. "Ever since he witnessed your performance at the Quidditch match, this boy has been absolutely captivated. He speaks of little else! Your namees up in nearly every conversation!"

    Viktor Krum''s presence sent an electric current of excitement through the gathered Hogwarts students.

    "Oh my God, can you believe it, Harry!" Ron practically squealed, clutching at Harry''s arm. "It''s him, it''s actually Krum! We met him at the World Cup - remember when he called for Dad to help during the chaos? This is incredible - he''s actually going to be Durmstrang''s representative!"

    Harry didn''t need Ron''s insistent reminder; he had already spotted the famous Quidditch yer among the Durmstrang delegation. Krum was impossible to miss with his distinctive features - that prominent hooked nose and those thick, dark eyebrows that seemed to always furrow in concentration. He carried himself with the same powerful presence he had shown on the Quidditch pitch, though here, among his ssmates, there was something more approachable about him.

    Just like how the Beauxbatons students had looked at Professor Watson with a mixture of awe, curiosity, and admiration, many of the young Hogwarts wizards fell into a simr state upon hearing Krum''s name.

    A wave of excitement rippled through the crowd as young wizards pushed and shoved for a better view, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the international Quidditch star who was now respectfully speaking with Professor Watson.

    Harry, observing themotion, noticed something curious. Hermione, usually so easily annoyed by what she considered "Quidditch worship," seemed unusually calm, apparently not at all surprised to see a world-ss Quidditch star among the Durmstrang delegation. This caught Harry''s attention enough to voice his confusion.

    "Don''t you remember?" Hermione replied with her typical matter-of-fact tone, though there was a hint of satisfaction in her voice at having known this detail. "That night, before we parted ways with Krum, he mentioned to Professor Watson that he was a Durmstrang student. Given hispetitive nature, it seemed obvious he wouldn''t pass up the opportunity to represent his school as champion."

    Harry''s brow furrowed as he tried to recall the specific moment Hermione referenced. But the events of that particr night had been so chaotic, so filled with tension and fear, that the details had be somewhat muddled in his memory. Unlike Hermione, whose mind seemed to catalog every detail with perfect rity, Harry couldn''t quite reconstruct that particr conversation.

    The great migration into the Great Hall proceeded with controlled chaos as the heads of houses shepherded their students inside, following the Durmstrang delegation.

    The Beauxbatons students had already imed their territory at the Ravenw table, their powder-blue uniforms creating a striking contrast against the sea of ck Hogwarts robes. After much shuffling, whispering, and strategic maneuvering for optimal viewing positions, everyone finally settled into their ces.

    Many young wizards, Ron included, found themselves in a constant state of distraction, their attention bouncing between two maic poles - Viktor Krum, who was already surrounded by an admiring crowd at the Slytherin table, and the breathtakingly beautiful Beauxbatons student who seemed to radiate an otherworldly allure.

    "That girl must be part Ve!" Ron said hoarsely to Harry, as he stared dreamily at the Beauxbatons girl. His eyes had taken on a slightly zed look that Harry recognized from the Quidditch World Cup. "How do you think Professor Watson knows her?"

    "I don''t know!" Hermione snapped; her voice sharp enough to cut ss. Her response came before Harry could even form a reply, and there was no missing the irritation in her tone. "Perhaps he caught her attention by standing there gawking like a mindless troll - much like you''re doing right now!"

    Ron appeared not to have heard a single word of Hermione''s sarcastic reply; he remained mesmerized by Fleur, who was casting frequent, active nces toward Professor Watson at the staff table, her silvery hair was catching the light of the floating candles with every movement.

    Dumbledore''s voice suddenly filled the Great Hall, carrying easily to every corner despite its gentle tone.

    "Good evening,dies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particrly - our distinguished guests," he announced, his face beaming with genuine pleasure as he surveyed the assembled crowd, paying special attention to the visiting students. "I have great pleasure in weing you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be bothfortable and enjoyable."

    Fleur, having temporarily shifted her attention from the handsome professor, was now examining the Great Hall with an expression of barely concealed disdain. Her facial features arranged themselves into a look of sophisticated criticism as she released an unmistakably sarcasticugh.

    "Nobody''s forcing you to stay!" Hermione muttered darkly, her patience clearly wearing thin with the French student''s apparent superiorityplex.

    The feast that appeared before them today was truly extraordinary. The house-elves had outdone themselves, preparing an international meal that showcased not only traditional British wizarding pte but also French cuisine and Eastern European dishes.

    Golden tters creaked under the weight of exotic delicacies and familiarfort foods, while crystal goblets filled themselves with various beverages ranging from pumpkin juice to fine French wines (for the staff only, of course).

    However, few students could truly focus on the delicious food. Most of their attention was on the visiting students from the two schools, while those like Cedric Diggory, who aspired to be Hogwarts champion, were eagerly anticipating the announcement of the champion selection process.

    The appearance of the Ministry representatives halfway through the feast created yet another ripple of interest through the Hall.

    "Phew¡ª"

    Ludo Bagman arrived looking somewhat disheveled, his round face flushed from apparent fatigue. After exchanging hurried greetings with Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff, he leaned in close to Dumbledore, speaking in what he probably thought was a discreet whisper.

    "Barty expressed some concerns," Ludo exined between heavy breaths, "so he''s personally apanying the Department for the Regtion and Control of Magical Creatures on their inspection."

    "Sounds exactly like Barty¡ª" Bryanmented with a knowing chuckle, his eyes meeting Bagman''s for a brief moment. Ludo quickly averted his gaze, showing an almost painful reluctance to maintain eye contact with Bryan.

    The sharp pain that suddenly shot through Ron''s shin finally managed to break the spell that had held him captive. "Ouch!" he yelped, shooting an angry re at Hermione while rubbing his injured leg. "Have you gonepletely mental again?"

    "When you finally manage to tear your eyes away from her¡ª" Hermione replied without a shred of sympathy, "Perhaps you''ll notice who''s just arrived!"

    "What?" Ron''s irritation gave way to confusion, but Harry''s subtle head nod toward the staff table finally directed his attention to where Ludo Bagman sat, his robes were slightly crooked but his smile was as bright as ever.

    "Oh, it''s Bagman!" Ron''s entire demeanor transformed instantly from annoyed to excited. He turned to Harry with renewed vigor, his previous grievances forgotten. "It''s Bagman, Harry! We should go ask to him about the situation!"

    To be honest, Harry didn''t want to spend more energy on this matter, but he knew how much it meant to Ron, and he understood the significance of several hundred Galleons to him. As Harry hesitated, Ron looked troubled again. His gaze returned to Bagman, who was now toasting with others at the staff table, and said hesitantly,

    "Maybe this isn''t the best moment, Harry, I mean, Bagman''s here for the Triwizard Tournament opening ceremony. We should probably wait for a more appropriate time."

    Before Harry could respond, Hermione''s exasperated sigh cut through the air. Ron, seemingly eager to avoid another confrontation with her, quickly turned his attention to his brothers, Fred and George, who had been watching the discussion with unusual intensity.

    "What about you two? Are you nning to confront Bagman about it? You lost quite a bit of money too!"

    "Just let us catch him alone," Fred said with grim determination.

    "We''re definitely not letting him wriggle out of this one!" George added with equal resolve,pleting his twin''s thought as they often did.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0508 Announcement

    0508 Announcement

    Ron''s face lit up with renewed hope at Fred and George''s determined derations. He leaned forward eagerly across the ancient wooden table, his freckled face looking earnest in the warm candlelight of the Great Hall.

    "Could you also ask him about that night?" Ron''s voice carried a mixture of hope and desperation. "You know, whether he made a mistake and paid us with leprechaun gold instead of real Galleons?"

    "Handle your own affairs, silly brother¡ª" George''s refusal, though kindly meant, was firm and decisive and he turned his attention back to the spectacr disy of dishes before them.

    Ron''s face darkened with anger, his mouth opening to release what would undoubtedly have been a tirade at his brothers, when an unexpected voice cut through the tension.

    "Excuse me, are you finished with zis bouibaisse?"

    The voice, melodious yet husky, with an unmistakable French ent, startled Harry from his observations. He turned, surprised to find that the Beauxbatons girl had somehow approached their table without making a sound.

    To describe this girl as merely "pretty" would be like calling a diamond merely "shiny". The reactions of the boys nearby told the real story - Seamus had frozen with his fork halfway to his mouth, Neville had knocked over his pumpkin juice without noticing, Dean was staring tantly, and Ron... Ron looked as though he''d been hit by a Confundus Charm.

    Fleur Dcour stood there like a vision from a dream. She leaned forward slightly, causing her silvery-blonde hair to cascade over one shoulder like liquid moonlight, revealing a graceful corbone that seemed sculpted from the finest marble.

    Her skin possessed an almost luminous quality, seeming to glow like moonlight on fresh snow. Every feature of her face seemed precisely crafted by nature itself - from her high, elegant cheekbones to her perfectly curved lips and striking blue eyes that sparkled with intelligence and something else... something almost otherworldly.

    She appeared more mature than the sixth and seventh-year Hogwarts students, both in appearance and physique. She was like a magnificent flower in full bloom, making everything around her seem somehow duller inparison.

    The reaction from the female students was equally telling, though obviously different. Hermione, Ginny, and other girls watched her with expressions ranging from wariness to outright hostility, like cats encountering an unfamiliar presence in their territory. Their difort was tangible, creating an almost visible tension in the air.

    Harry wrinkled his nose slightly as her presence had brought with it a wave of perfume scent that he found overwhelming.

    "Sure," He managed to say, pushing the dish towards her. "You can take it."

    "You ''ave finished?" She inquired again.

    "Yes!" Ron practically leaped to his feet, nearly knocking over several goblets in his haste. He grabbed the dish with slightly trembling hands, lifting it toward her as if presenting a precious offering. "We''re done. It was excellent, really excellent."

    The girl took the dish with elegance. She seemed to look straight through Ron as if he were made of ss, but after taking a few slow steps, she paused and turned back, her gaze settling on Harry with thoughtful curiosity.

    "Which ''ouse are you in?" She asked, her voice carrying genuine interest. "I ''ave ''eard zat ''Ogwarts ''as four ''ouses."

    "Gryffindor," Harry replied, gesturing toward the magnificent banner suspended from the enchanted ceiling, where a majestic golden lion stood against a field of deep crimson.

    "Oh," Fleur''s said with slight disappointment, her silvery voice maintaining its husky quality as she continued with her distinctive ent, "I ''ave ''eard zat Bryan Watson is from Slytherin ''Ouse?"

    "What about it?" Hermione''s voice came, her eyebrows drawing together in a deep furrow.

    "Is Slytherin ze best ''ouse at ''Ogwarts?" Fleur''s question came with an enthusiasm, her blue eyes sparkling with barely concealed interest.

    This was truly an absurd question. Harry knew with absolute certainty that if this inquiry hade from anyone else - anyone who wasn''t both a distinguished guest and possessing such otherworldly beauty - the reaction from the Gryffindor table would have been instant and potentially explosive. The Question or Suggestion that Slytherin might be superior to Gryffindor was practically sphemous in this corner of the Great Hall.

    "The best house at Hogwarts is Gryffindor!" Hermione''s retort came with an uncharacteristic sharpness.

    Hearing this response, Fleur looked at Hermione with slight surprise. She hadn''t noticed this bushy-haired girl with slightly oversized front teeth before. But there was a sh of recognition in her eyes - not of Hermione personally, but of the hostility she detected there. It was a reaction she had encountered many times before.

    A small, indifferent smile appeared across her perfect lips as she continued to ask curiously,

    "So, what does Mr. Watson teach at ''Ogwarts? And... if I may ask, where might one find ''is office?"

    Harry answered truthfully, despite the weird signals he was beginning to receive from his female ssmates.

    "Professor Watson used to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts. Now he''s teaching a... well, a Physical Education ss." He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing with precise directions. "His office is on the third floor. From the entrance hall, you take the main staircase up three flights, turn left at thending, follow the corridor until you reach two turns, take both, walk a few more steps, and you''ll see a door marked ''Student Safety Office.''"

    "Physical Education," Fleur repeated the words, her interest visibly piqued as she turned and walked back toward the Ravenw table.

    "Whew," Ron expelled a long breath, as if he''d been holding it the entire time. His face was flushed, and his eyes remained slightly nk. "If she''s not a Ve, I''ll eat Hagrid''s st-Ended Skrewts raw - everyst one of them!"

    "Shut up, Weasley!" The simultaneous snap from both Ginny and Hermione carried enough venom to poison a basilisk. Their faces had darkened considerably, and Hermione whirled on Harry with the intensity of a charging hippogriff. "Why did you tell her all that, Harry!"

    Harry''s expression was a perfect picture of bewildered innocence, like a first-year caught in the wrong corridor. "She''s a guest... isn''t she?" His voice grew increasingly uncertain as he spoke. "Besides, what I told her wasn''t exactly a secret. Anyone could have answered..."

    His words trailed off as he became aware of the growing number of disapproving females faces turned in his direction. Not just Hermione and Ginny, but Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, and the entire female poption of the Gryffindor Quidditch team - Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spi, and Katie Bell - along with several seventh-year girls were all fixing him with looks that could have curdled milk.

    "Did I say something wrong?" Harry''s anxiety was beginning to rise as he found himself the target of this unexpected female group displeasure.

    "You betrayed Professor Watson!" Parvati''s usation burst forth with the force of a hex, her dark eyes shing with indignation. "That girl has ill intentions towards Professor Watson!"

    The statement sent an ufortable tingle across Harry''s scalp, but as his mind processed the usation, confusion overtook his initial rm. After all, Fleur was just a student, wasn''t she? The idea that she could pose any real threat to Professor Watson seemed almostughable.

    The tension was broken by the sudden disappearance of the golden tes, leaving the tables gleaming as if they had never been used. Dumbledore and Professor Watson rose in perfect synchronization, their movements drawing all eyes in the Great Hall.

    Bryan separated from the staff table, striding towards a shadowy corner of the Great hall where, as many now noticed for the first time, Filch had been lurking like a particrly suspicious gargoyle. His hands clutched a massive wooden chest that sparkled with jeweled iys in the candlelight.

    Dumbledore began the exnation everyone had been anticipating for the past two months: the champion selection process for the Triwizard Tournament and a general overview of what those chosen few might face as tasks. This portion clearly belonged to the Headmaster, while Professor Watson positioned himself to present the legendary artifact Dumbledore had referenced - the instrument of choosing champions.

    The Goblet of Fire emerged from its container, its appearance breathtaking. The goblet itself was roughly hewn from ancient wood, showing the marks of countless years of service. What made it extraordinary was not its crude craftsmanship but the dancing blue-white mes that filled it. The mes moved with an almost hypnotic rhythm, as if performing an ancient and mysterious dance.

    Every eye in the Great Hall was fixed on the magical artifact, its mes reflecting in hundreds of wide eyes and creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere throughout the vast space.

    "For the next twenty-four hours, until the conclusion of tomorrow''s Halloween feast, this goblet will take on the sacred task of selecting the three students it deems most worthy to represent their respective schools,"

    Bryan''s deep, resonant voice filled the hall. "Tonight, we will ce the Goblet of Fire in the entrance hall, where any eligible student wishing to participate may submit their name. However, there are two crucial matters that require rification¡ª"

    His voice took on an even more serious tone as he continued, "What sets this Triwizard Tournament apart from its historical predecessors is the unprecedented scope of its audience. We have implemented revolutionary magical technology that will allow the champions'' trials to be witnessed in real-time across multiple locations. This means that while youpete here at Hogwarts, witches and wizards in Diagon Alley, magicalmunities throughout France, Germany, Switzend, Italy, and numerous other locations will observe your achievements as they unfold. I trust you understand the implications - selection as a champion will result in instant, international recognition¡ª"

    <strong>CRASH!</strong>

    The Great Hall erupted into barely controlled chaos. The announcement hit the assembled students like a tsunami, sending waves of excitement rippling through the crowd. Not only the Hogwarts students but also the visiting delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang (with the notable exception of Viktor Krum, who maintained his stoic demeanor) wore expressions of stunned disbelief mixed with burning ambition.

    "Is zis true, Dumbledore?" Madame Maxime''s tall frame seemed to grow evenrger as she turned to the Hogwarts headmaster in surprise. "Why was I not informed of zis development beforehand?"

    "Oh, I suppose¡ª" Karkaroff''s smooth voice carried an undertone of wariness, his dark eyes calcting as he spoke, "Perhaps Hogwarts, as our gracious host, didn''t deem it necessary to trouble us with such a minor detail."

    "Bryan believed it essential to demonstrate our significant advances in magicalmunication and cooperation," Dumbledore exined, his eyes twinkling. "However, this particr project has faced numerous challenges. We weren''t entirely certain of its sessfulpletion until quite recently, but now, it seems, Bryan''s confidence has been justified."

    "SILENCE!" Bryan''smanding voice cut through the growing tumult. "Following from what I''ve just revealed, the champions will receive recognition proportionate with this expanded audience. This means rewards beyond mere honor. Not only the ultimate victor but each student selected as a champion by the Goblet of Fire will receive a substantial mary prize upon the tournament''s conclusion."

    "How much are we talking about, Professor Watson?" George''s voice carried clearly across the hall, voicing the question on everyone''s mind.

    "The exact amount remains to be determined¡ª" Bryan''s smile held a hint of mischief, "But we''re looking at several hundred Galleons, at minimum."

    <strong>BANG!</strong>

    At least dozens of students leaped onto their benches, sending cups and tes ttering as they cheered with unrestrained enthusiasm. The prospect of both fame and fortune had ignited a fire of ambition in many young hearts.

    "AND FINALLY, THIS MUST BE SAID!" Bryan''s voice rose above the noise, his usual calm demeanor gradually drawing the excited young wizards back to order. "Do not let the allure of honor and wealth cloud your judgment. Consider your choice with the utmost care and seriousness. Once the Goblet of Fire selects you as champion, you enter into a binding magical contract of the most serious nature. You will be constantly monitored, and you will have no choice but to participate until the tournament''s conclusion!"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0509 Visit

    0509 Visit

    Few of the young wizards could tear their attention away from Professor Watson''s earlier revtions, his final points falling on ears already buzzing with excitement and dreams of glory. The Great Hall, still warm from the feast, hummed with whispered conversations and barely contained enthusiasm.

    The Triwizard Tournament''s grand prize of a thousand Galleons, though reserved exclusively for the ultimate champion, was only the beginning. Professor Watson had revealed that just the selection as a champion would catapult the chosen few into instant celebrity status throughout the European wizarding world. As if this weren''t enough to set their young hearts racing, he added that even after thepetition''s conclusion, champions would receive a generous constion prize of several hundred Galleons.

    This announcement undoubtedly ignited a wildfire of excitement among the assembled students. Several Hogwarts students who had previously backed-down at tales of the tournament''s dangers were now reconsidering, their earlier fears melting away like morning mist under the warm sun of potential glory.

    The more proactive among them were already creating quite amotion, scrambling to borrow quills and parchment from their peers, eager to submit their names to the Goblet of Fire the moment the feast concluded. The scratching of quills and rustling of parchment added to the symphony of excitement filling the hall.

    "The age line¡ª" Fred''s eyes sparkled with mischievous determination, catching the light of the floating candles above. He leaned forward, his voice barely containing his excitement, "That''s child''s y, really. An aging potion will fool it without breaking a sweat. Once your name''s nestled safely in that cup, you can just sit back and watch the show¡ªafter all, how could a mere magical artifact possibly distinguish between someone who''s seventeen and someone who''s just shy of it?"

    His freckled face bore the confident grin of someone who had already tasted victory in his mind.

    "You''re actually nning to enter?" Ron asked dazedly, his voice thick with a mixture of disbelief and barely concealed envy. The golden gleam of imagined prize money seemed to dance in his eyes, making him slightly dizzy with possibility. "But hang on¡ªhaven''t you just received that thousand Galleon investment from Remus?"

    "Who in their right mind would everin about having too much gold, you daft fool¡ª" George interjected with a dismissive wave of his hand, his tone telling that his younger brother had asked something ridiculously obvious.

    "I must warn you!" Hermione''s voice cut through their excitement with concern as she drew in a deep, steadying breath. Her eyes, filled with genuine worry, darted between the twins before settling on Ron with a particrly sharp look. "The tournament isn''t just some game¡ªit''s historically proven to be incredibly dangerous! I don''t believe underage wizards possess the necessary magical knowledge or experience to handle these tasks safely. We simply haven''t learned enough yet!"

    "Come off it, Hermione! We''re students in Professor Watson''s PE ss!" Fred protested, his voice carrying a note of indignation as he straightened up in his seat. "You''re in that ss too¡ªyou''ve seen firsthand what we''re capable of now!"

    "But that''s precisely the point¡ª" Hermione pressed on urgently, her words tumbling out in a rush of concern. She leaned forward, her eyes intense with conviction. "You''re not the only ones in the PE ss. There are students who are adult there too. How could you possibly hope topete against their experience and skill?"

    "We''ll soon find out, won''t we¡ª" George replied with unwavering confidence, his grin matching his twin''s. He turned to Fred, excitement crackling between them like visible electricity. "Come on, brother¡ªtonight''s going to be one for the history books!"

    Hermione had severely underestimated just how powerful the allure of championship and glory could affect these young wizards. Ron stood frozen, his gaze following his brothers'' leaving figures as they disappeared into the crowd, clearly torn between following them and heeding Hermione''s warnings.

    Even Harry, who had never sought fame or fortune, had an expression of internal struggle; while the prize money held little appeal to him, the honor of being chosen as champion was a siren song few could resist.

    The crowd dispersed with remarkable speed, their footsteps echoing through the stone corridors like rolling thunder. Many students practically flew up the sweeping staircases, their robes billowing behind them like dark wings in their haste to return to their dormitories and prepare for what promised to be a historic night.

    The usual strict enforcement of curfew seemed suspended; even the notoriously vignt Filch and hispanion Mrs. Norris would surely make an exception on this extraordinary evening.

    "Let''s go, let''s go," Professor Watson''smanding voice rang through the corridor as he ascended the stairs. Students instinctively parted before him like water around a rock, none daring to obstruct his progress.

    Meanwhile, Karkaroff shepherded his Durmstrang students toward the castle grounds, their heavy furs making soft shuffling sounds against the gstone floor as they moved as one toward the exit, clearly having no intention of taking up residence within the castle. At the staff table, Bagman remained deep in conversation with Dumbledore, their discussion showing no signs of concluding despite the rapidly emptying Great Hall.

    Observing this scene, Ron let out a dejected sigh. "Let''s go," he muttered, his earlier excitement somewhat dampened by the night''s developments.

    They followed the trailing end of the dispersing crowd up the marble staircase, their footsteps joining the symphony of movement echoing through the castle.

    Upon reaching the third floor, they encountered an unexpected scene: Lavender and Parvati had stopped dead in their tracks, their faces clouded with concern as they whispered urgently about something in the corridor ahead. Neville stood nearby; his round face painted with surprise.

    "What''s wrong?" Hermione approached her dormmates with curiosity evident in her voice.

    "Oh, that Beauxbatons girl!" Lavender''s voice dripped with barely concealed displeasure. "We just saw her heading down that way!"

    "What?" Not only did Hermione''s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but Ron and Harry''s jaws dropped in perfect synchronization, their eyes blinking rapidly as they processed this information.

    "She must be going to see Professor Watson!" Parvati''s voice rose with indignation, her dark eyes shing as she turned usingly toward Harry. "She''s probably trying to curry favor with Professor Watson¡ªI bet she''s hoping to gain an advantage over her ssmates in bing champion!" Her voice dropped to a fierce whisper, "But Professor Watson will see right through her schemes, I''m certain of it!"

    Meanwhile, in the Student Safety Office, Bryan was attempting to settle in for what promised to be a long night. Having consumed more drinks than food during the weing feast out of courtesy to their guests, he was preparing a strong cup of tea for himself as soon as he returned to his office. Then, he walked behind his desk, pulled open a drawer, and retrieved a simple wooden box.

    The box contained a selection of specially crafted biscuits, a thoughtful offering from the house-elves who knew his preference for lighter sweetnesspared to the standard Hogwarts treats.

    The familiar aroma of the freshly brewed tea mingled with the subtle sweetness of the biscuits, creating aforting atmosphere in the modest office.

    <strong>Knock, knock, knock¡ª</strong>

    The sudden sound of knuckles against wood shattered the peaceful moment. Bryan had just settled into his chair with a steaming cup of tea, with extra leaves tobat the sleepless night ahead, when the unexpected visitor announced their presence.

    "Come in¡ª" Bryan''s invitation carried a note of resignation, as if he''d anticipated this interruption.

    The door swung open to reveal Fleur Dcour, her presence immediately transforming the atmosphere of the simple office.

    She had gathered her silvery-blonde hair into an elegant high ponytail, the style lending her an air of businesslike sophistication that contrasted sharply with her earlier appearance in the Great Hall.

    Upon entering, she didn''t immediately greet Bryan, instead took her time to survey her surroundings with undisguised curiosity. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows arched in surprise as she took in the modest furnishings and simple decor of the office belonging to the renowned Bryan Watson.

    "Is this Hogwarts style, Mr. Watson?" Fleur''s voice carried a familiar warmth that seemed at odds with their brief acquaintance. Her ent wrapped around each word like silk as she continued her inspection of the office. "Or is it your personal preference? This office looks more suited to a monastery!"

    "A well-mannered guest shouldn''t criticize someone''s home before even offering a proper greeting, Ms. Dcour¡ª" Bryan''s response came with a casual smile, though his eyes held a glimmer of amusement. He gestured toward a chair, inviting Fleur¡ªwho seemed to have grown several inches taller since their meeting six months ago¡ªto take a seat.

    Rising from his own chair, he moved toward the window, intending to let in some fresh night air.

    Rather than epting the offered seat, Fleur drifted interestedly toward Bryan''s desk, her curiosity drawing her to examine his workspace more closely. Her eyes fell first on the box of simple biscuits he''d just retrieved, then wandered to a substantial stack of unopened letters pushed to one side of the desk. Something about this sight caused her face to cloud with disapproval.

    "Don''t¡ª"

    A shiver ran through her frame as she noticed Bryan''s movement toward the window, and her voice took on a reproachful tone, "Brrr¡ª it''s absolutely freezing here!"

    "Then perhaps you should count yourself fortunate that the Triwizard Tournament isn''t being hosted at Durmstrang." Bryan''s response came with a casual shrug as he abandoned his attempt at venttion. Instead, he turned his attention to the firece, making the mes to leap higher with a subtle gesture before returning to settle himself on the office''sfortable sofa.

    "What brings you here, Miss Dcour? Has Hogwarts somehow failed in its hosting duties,pelling you to lodge aint mere moments after the feast''s conclusion?"

    "Oh, my concerns aren''t with your school so much as with you specifically¡ª" Fleur''s gaze fixed on Bryan Watson, who sat across from her with fingers inteced.

    This was their second meeting, their first having urred at the Triwizard Tournament preparatory meeting six months ago. While Bryan Watson''s physical appearance remainedrgely unchanged, there was now a subtle but unmistakable air of calm authority about him, a quiet dignity that seemed to emanate from him and cause an involuntary flutter in one''s chest when their eyes met unexpectedly.

    This sensation waspletely foreign to Fleur, who had spent her life being the one who caused others to feel flustered and uncertain. When men encountered her, it was always they who struggled to maintain theirposure, their eyes filling with that familiar desperate hunger that she hade to find so tediously predictable.

    Yet Bryan Watson''s light purple eyes remained clear and steady, without that nauseating eager possessiveness she had grown ustomed to detecting in male gazes.

    Mysterious and powerful. These words echoed in Fleur''s mind as she assessed Bryan Watson, finding them somehow inadequate to fully capture the spirit of the man before her.

    "I wrote you three letters, Mr. Watson," Fleur leaned forward slightly, the flickering firelight tinting her faintly exposed corbone a pale gold. Her naturally husky voice carried an unusual emotion. "The most recent was just two months ago¡ª" She paused meaningfully, her blue eyes searching his face for any reaction. "But I didn''t receive even a single reply. I suppose, Mr. Watson, my letters likely reside in that rather substantial pile on your desk marked ''No Reply Needed''?"

    "Ah¡ª" Bryan''s response came with a smile that managed to be both thoughtful and slightly mischievous. "The Hogwarts'' house-elves handle the sorting of my letters. They must have made an unfortunate error in ssification. Don''t worry, I''ll reprimand them severely¡ª"

    <strong>Hmph¡ª</strong>

    <em>''This excuse was really too perfunctory.''</em>

    Fleur snorted with disbelief. Her eyes continued their careful survey of the office, lingering momentarily on the mysterious ck curtain that concealed one entire wall. Though curiosity clearly burned in her gaze, she refrained from inquiring about what might lie behind it.

    The in simplicity of the office seemed to diminish her interest in further exploration. Her attention returned to Bryan, who maintained his polite, slightly enigmatic smile. The flickering firelight created interesting patterns in his unusual purple eyes as she gathered her thoughts.

    "May I ask you something, Mr. Watson?" Her voice took on a more focused tone, dropping its earlier yful edge.

    "What would you like to know?"

    "That witch you defeated at the Quidditch World Cup¡ª" Sudden enthusiasm colored Fleur''s tone as she leaned forward staring seriously into Bryan''s eyes and asked abruptly. "What''s your rtionship with her?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0510 Lights & Shadows

    0510 Lights & Shadows

    The office windows were sealed tight against the autumn chill, their panes reflecting the dancing mes inside. Thick pine logs, freshly cut from the Forbidden Forest, crackled and popped in the massive stone firece, sending spirals of golden sparks up the chimney.

    The vigorous mes casted shadows across the book-lined walls, their heat radiating in powerful waves. Within minutes, the previously cool office transformed into something approaching the warmth of a volcanic hot spring.

    Fleur, her silvery-blonde hair shimmering like moonlight on water, delicately flicked a strand from her face. Her slender hands moved gracefully through the warm air as she fanned herself and her eyes sparkled with barely contained curiosity as she leaned forward in her chair.

    "Who was that witch?" She asked, her French ent giving a musical quality to her words. "There was something special about her¡ª I mean, she possessed an extraordinary beauty. When did your paths first cross?"

    "Beautiful?" Bryan let out a low, knowing chuckle. "Wouldn''t you say ''dangerous'' is a more fitting description?"

    "Oh, but monsieur," Fleur''s eyes danced with mischief and keen intelligence as she settled morefortably in her chair. "Those are not mutually exclusive qualities, you know¡ª"

    Her gaze took on a probing intensity, and her voice dropped to a whispered-gossipy tone. "At Beauxbatons, it''s all anyone can talk about. Some of my ssmates are convinced you two were lovers, but that you cast her aside, and she attacked the Quidditch World Cup out of humiliation.

    Of course, I''m well aware she''s currently imprisoned in that dreadful prison, but this... Well, forgive me, but doesn''t this align perfectly with what seems to be something of a Hogwarts tradition?"

    "Hogwarts tradition?" Now Bryan was genuinely confused.

    "Well, it''s just whispered rumors, you know¡ª" Fleur''s long eyshes fluttered bewitchingly as she spoke, her voice dropped even lower. "Gellert Grindelwald was imprisoned in Nurmengard by your current headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. There are rumors that they¡ª"

    <strong>Ahem!</strong>

    Bryan coughed loudly, interrupting what Fleur was about to say. Otherwise, if the old man outside his door were to burst in, seething with indignation, the situation could quickly spiral out of control and he might not be able to restrain him.

    "Please, Miss Dcour¡ª" Bryan''s forehead creased with several prominent lines of irritation. "When you return to your school, I would greatly appreciate it if you could inform your ssmates that the witch who attacked the World Cup was nothing more than a particrly dangerous dark witch I''ve been trying to capture. She is cunning and, as you''ve just said, have remarkable magical ability. She''s managed to slip through my grasp before."

    "Is that truly all there is to the story?" Fleur''s tone made it clear she found his exnation inadequate, her disappointment practically radiating from her face.

    "Miss Dcour," Bryan''s voice carried a note of growing exasperation, "are you telling me you left your headmistress and fellow students behind just toe to my office and indulge in gossip?"

    He leaned back in his chair, fixing her with a pointed look. " After such an exhausting journey, I suggest you return to your quarters and get some proper rest. Once you''ve recovered your strength, you can focus on submitting your name to the Goblet of Fire. I clearly recall your bold ims about bing Beauxbatons'' champion¡ªI sincerely hope those words won''t prove to be only empty boasting in the end."

    "Oh, there isn''t a single student at Beauxbatons who could possibly rival me!" Fleur said, tossing her gleaming ponytail with a flourish.

    However, even she couldn''t miss the growing displeasure in Bryan''s expression, so she tempered her enthusiasm somewhat and shrugged. "I sought you out because we are guests here, aren''t we, Mr. Watson? Surely Hogwarts should demonstrate proper hospitality. It would be most fitting to have someone show us around the castle properly, and you''re the only person I''m acquainted with here."

    Bryan pressed his lips together thoughtfully. He had to admit, Fleur had crafted quite a clever excuse for her presence.

    "I must say, that seems like an entirely reasonable request, Bryan¡ª" Just as Fleur was gazing at Bryan with eager anticipation, waiting for his acquiescence, an elderly voice tinged with unmistakable amusement drifted in from beyond the heavy oak door.

    Watching Fleur''s sudden transformation from confident young woman to flustered schoolgirl, Bryan smiled yfully. "Please grace us with your presence, Headmaster Dumbledore¡ª"

    The heavy oak door swung open, and Dumbledore entered with a smile on his face. Looking at Fleur, who had leapt to her feet with such haste that her chair scraped against the stone floor, Dumbledore widened his eyes in an expression of expertly feigned surprise.

    "Ah, unless my aging eyes deceive me, you must be Miss Fleur Dcour¡ª" He said, his smile warming the room as effectively as the crackling fire. "Madame Maxime spoke of you quite extensively during our earlier conversation. She thinks very highly of you, believing you''re the most likely student to represent Beauxbatons in the Tournament."

    "Oh, merci beaucoup, Headmaster Dumbledore¡ª" Fleur managed to stammer out, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

    Madame Maxime had always told them that even though Bryan Watson was rising to prominence, the greatest wizard in magical Europe and even the Wizarding World was still Albus Dumbledore. Previously, she had scoffed at such ims, but now, truly facing Dumbledore, facing those prating and wise blue eyes, she felt the extraordinariness of this old man who had lived and shaped magical history for over a century.

    "Ah, I do hope I haven''t interrupted anything of importance, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore turned his attention to Bryan, his voice carrying a note of apology that might or might not have been genuine. "I''ve just managed to send Ludo on his way. I fear I may have overindulged in Madam Rosmerta''s excellent mead at the weing banquet, and thought perhaps a walk with pleasantpany might help settle things¡ª"

    "Oh, non, non, I shall take my leave immediately." Fleur''s words tumbled out before Bryan could respond, her usual grace somewhat diminished as she hurriedly navigated around the sofa toward the door, her head bowed in embarrassment.

    Yet after just two cautious steps across the worn stone floor, she halted abruptly, gathering what remained of her courage to look directly at Dumbledore''s kind gaze. "Headmaster Dumbledore, might I ask when exactly you¡ª"

    "Our distinguished Headmaster had been standing guard outside the door for approximately two minutes while you were sharing those fascinating interpretations of Hogwarts traditions with me¡ª" Bryan interjected teasingly, his voice rich with barely suppressed amusement.

    "Ah, I didn''t hear anything¡ª" Dumbledore sped his long-fingered hands over his belly, tilting his silver-haired head back to study the rough-hewn ceiling blocks with exaggerated interest, as if discovering an extraordinary mural hidden in their ancient patterns.

    But then, with impable timing, he added, "However, I must say that Miss Dcour''s suggestion regarding a tour holds considerable merit. We should indeed showcase the countless wonders of Hogwarts'' long and illustrious history to our honored guests who have journeyed so far. And I believe you''re a suitable choice for this, Bryan. No one knows Hogwarts better than you¡ª"

    The normallyposed and confident Fleur, caught in the verbal crossfire between these two crafty men wizards, was like a little niffler trembling in fear. She had no idea how to handle this increasingly awkward situation.

    "Very well¡ª" Bryan''s gaze settled on Fleur, who looked as though she would have given her entire vault at Gringotts for the ability to vanish through the floor to the level below. He released a slight sigh, equal parts resignation and amusement. "Regarding your request for a tour of Hogwarts, I will make the necessary arrangements, Miss Dcour. If there are no other matters requiring attention, I suggest you return to your carriage for some rest. You''ll need enough energy for tomorrow''s extensive exploration of the castle grounds¡ª"

    Fleur''s hands clenched into frustrated fists as she shot Bryan what she clearly intended to be a withering re, though it came across as sulkier than threatening. She turned on her heel to leave, but then, as if seized by a sudden inspiration, she stopped for a second time.

    Before either of the two men could react, she spun around and darted toward Bryan''s desk with surprising speed. Under the amused and curious gazes of both Dumbledore and Bryan, she snatched a piece of parchment from the stack on the desk and hastily scratched out her name and school affiliation.

    "Bonne nuit, Mr. Watson, Headmaster Dumbledore¡ª" Fleur clutched the precious parchment in her trembling hand as if it were a lifeline and fled from Bryan''s office with the speed of someone escaping a rampaging dragon.

    "Ah, what a remarkably spirited youngdy¡ª" Dumbledore''s chuckle filled the room with warmth, his silver-white beard rustling gently in the cool breeze that had rushed through the briefly opened door. His knowing eyes fixed on Bryan, clearly anticipating some form of response to his observation.

    "Perhaps, Headmaster Dumbledore, you should indeed take that digestive walk around the grounds to help process the excess food you consumed at the banquet¡ª" Bryan replied with exaggerated politeness.

    <strong>Whoosh¡ª</strong> With a fluid motion of his wand, the heavy velvet curtains drew themselves closed one by one, their rings scraping softly against the ancient iron rods.

    The roaring fire in the massive firece diminished to barely more than glowing embers, casting the room in shadows. Dumbledore made his way to thefortable sofa and lowered himself onto it, positioning himself to face the wall now shrouded by the dark curtain. With another whispered spell, the curtain drew back, revealing a chaotic dance of lights and shadows upon the stone surface.

    Bryan stepped forward and streams of brilliant silver light flowed from his wand like liquid moonbeams, merging with the wall itself.

    Thefortable, almost casual atmosphere that had permeated the office during Fleur''s visit evaporated instantly, reced by an almost tangible tension that seemed to press down upon both wizards.

    Studying therge, increasingly clear pattern of lights and shadows taking shape on the wall, Dumbledore''s voice lost all its previous warmth as he asked with quiet intensity, "You''re absolutely certain it won''t be discovered, Bryan?"

    "I''ve personally applied the most powerful concealment charms I know to the Omniocrs capturing these images. The possibility of detection at any magical frequency has been virtually eliminated¡ª"

    As Bryanpleted his exnation, the final brilliant strand of silver light departed from his wand tip and merged with the flickering wall. The entire image shuddered once, like ripples in a disturbed pond, before turning into crystal rity.

    The scene that materialized before them showed the dimly lit entrance hall, where a determined Fleur Dcour, her face set with fierce resolve, stepped across the silvery age line that Dumbledore himself had drawn few hours ago and dropped the hastily written parchment with her name into the wooden goblet burning with blue-white mes!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0511 Karkaroff

    0511 Karkaroff

    In the depths of the midnight hour, the fierce winds whistled their haunting melody across the Hogwarts grounds, their ghostly sound intertwining with the thunderous crashes of relentless waves against the cliffs below. Thebination created an almost supernatural seaside symphony that echoed through the castle''s stone corridors.

    The massive oak doors of the castle stood majestically open for the momentous Triwizard Tournament champion selection. The bitter October wind, carrying with it the crisp scent of autumn leaves and salt spray, poured through the entrance like an invisible flood, its haunting sound was like of a banshee''s sorrowful wail as it swept through the entrance hall.

    The entrance hall was illuminated as bright as a summer''s day by thebined radiance of four massive bronze torches and the Goblet of Fire ced on the high tform.

    From the Hufflepuff basement corridor, Cedric and his loyal band of house-mates emerged like thieves in the night, their excitement barely contained behind nervous grins and stifledughter. Cedric''s mates clustered around him, their eyes darting watchfully about the hall. After carefully ensuring they were alone in the vast space, they approached the Goblet with growing excitement.

    The silvery Age Line encircling the magical artifact was gleaming like moonlight on water. Cedric crossed the boundary nervously and, in one fluid motion, tossed his carefully prepared parchment bearing his name and house into the dancing mes. The group held their collective breath, watching as the blue-white fire consumed his offering, epting his bid for glory. Once they re-confirmed the goblet hadn''t rejected and thrown out Cedric''s entry, the group celebrated briefly before sneaking away.

    Throughout the long night, this scene had repeated itself countless times, each potential champion approaching the Goblet with their own mixture of determination, fear, and hope.

    In thefortable dimness of his office, Bryan lounged on his leather sofa, holding a steaming cup of fragrant tea that sent white vapor curling through the air and said casually, "Diggory has impressively solid fundamentals and remarkable dedication. His performance in my physical education sses also consistently stands out. I believe he has a good chance of bing Hogwarts'' champion¡ª"

    Dumbledore carefully picked cookie crumbs from his long beard. The evidence of his single-handed annihtion of Bryan''s carefully selected box of mild-vored pastriesy scattered before him like the aftermath of a particrly pleasant battle. His blue eyes twinkled with warmth as he said, "Pomona will certainly be delighted¡ª"

    He paused thoughtfully, stroking his beard. "I''ve always believed that Hufflepuffs deserve recognition for their kindness, loyalty, diligence, and their enduringmitment to what is right and just."

    Bryan nodded slightly in agreement, his thoughts turning to the rich history of Hufflepuff House.

    After the other three Hogwarts founders had passed away one after another, Helga Hufflepuff became the school''s first headmistress. In those dark and dangerous times, when the magicalmunity lived under constant threat of persecution, she had stood alone as guardian of the school. Her dedication had been soplete that she had nearly exhausted both her personal wealth and her family''s fortune in her determination to keep Hogwarts'' doors open to all who sought magical education.

    Moreover, Bryan thought of the lesser-known but equally significant fact that it was Helga Hufflepuff who had first brought the house-elves to Hogwarts at a time when such an action was considered radical. In an era when Muggle-born students were regarded as little more than dust beneath pure-bloods feet, Helga''spassionate act spoke volumes about her character.

    Bryan had often pondered whether her decision had been influenced by the horrifying things she must have heard from Gryffindor and Ravenw about the house-elves'' conditions in the secret chambers beneath Azkaban.

    As the night wore on, more students crept into the entrance hall like shadows, each approaching the Goblet with their own dreams of glory. Bryan, watching from his vantage point, estimated that approximately a quarter of Hogwarts'' eligible students of Age had already submitted their names tonight.

    Outside, the moon hung like a blurred pearl behind thick clouds, its position shifting gradually across the vast expanse of the night sky. In the Student Safety Office, Bryan and Dumbledore sat in silence, each immersed in their respective books, their minds swimming in oceans of magical knowledge.

    <strong>Tick¡ª</strong>

    The sudden, sharp tick of the clock announcing one o''clock shattered the quiet meditation. Through the continuous ghostly howls of the wind and the surrounding darkness, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the hall. Bryan carefully marked his ce in his spellbook and turned his attention to the unfolding scene.

    The Durmstrang group emerged from the shadows into the Goblet''s light, their thick fur cloaks wrapped tightly against the chill. Within their group, Viktor Krum''s usually strong figure looked notably thin, as his body seemed a little hunched against some unseen difort. Dark circles shaded his eyes, prominent against his tannedplexion, and his characteristic thick ck eyebrows drooped with evident exhaustion.

    "How are you holding up, Viktor? Can you hold on?" Karkaroff''s voice carried an unusual note of genuine concern, his typically stern demeanor softened by worry for his star student. The rest of the group showed varying degrees of fatigue, but none appeared as affected as Krum.

    In response to Karkaroff''s concern, Viktor could only manage a weary shake of his head before being overwhelmed by a forceful need to blow his nose, and that sound echoed in the vast space.

    "When we return to the ship, you can take some Sleeping Draught to ease your difort, Viktor," Karkaroff said, his voice carrying both concern and barely concealed frustration. His long, silver-streaked goatee quivered slightly as he spoke, revealing his agitation. "Beyond that, you must find the strength to endure¡ª"

    He paused, dark eyes scanning Krum''s face. "While I anticipated some difficulties, I hadn''t expected Ennd''s rtively mild climate to affect you quite so severely. Our winters at Durmstrang are far more brutal, after all¡ª"

    From the group of students behind Karkaroff, a scrawny boy with long ears and nervous hands stepped forward hesitantly. Poliakoff, whose small body seemed even smaller beneath his heavy fur cloak, gave his suggestion with the timidity of one well-acquainted with his headmaster''s vtile temper.

    "Perhaps, Headmaster Karkaroff, we could take Viktor to the hospital?" His voice quavered slightly in the vast space. "Surely Hogwarts must have medical facilities for their students?"

    Karkaroff''s caring expression vanished instantly, reced by a mask of fury that twisted his facial features into something almost inhuman. He whirled around with such force that his silver furs created a whooshing sound in the quiet hall, fixing the boy with a re that could have frozen me.

    "Hospital!" He spat, the word dripping with contempt and paranoid suspicion. His yellowed teeth shed in the torchlight as he lurched on the now-trembling student. "So, you would hand Viktor over to them? Give Hogwarts the perfect opportunity to poison or sabotage our champion? Keep your foolish thoughts to yourself, you troublesome little boy, before they cause irreparable damage!"

    The force of Karkaroff''s outburst reverberated through the entrance hall. Poliakoff seemed to shrink further into himself with each repetition, his face showing regret and embarrassment.

    Viktor, perhaps trying to resolve the tense situation, tried to move past Karkaroff''s protective posture toward the Goblet of Fire. Despite his illness, he maintained the powerful grace that had made him famous on the Quidditch pitch, though his movements were notably slower than usual. Another tremendous sneeze wracked his body but he pressed forward determinedly, clutching his entry parchment in onerge hand.

    "Wait, Viktor!" Karkaroff''s sharpmand came. His entire behavior had shifted to one of alertness, dark eyes narrowing as they fixed upon the ancient artifact before them. He quickly positioned himself between Viktor and the Goblet, and he drew his wand. The wandtip ignited with a soft glow as he began a meticulous inspection of the area within the Age Line.

    The gathered Durmstrang students watched this disy with a mixture of curiosity and uneasiness, their eyes darting between their headmaster''s suspicious roaming and Krum''s confused expression.

    Viktor''s thick eyebrows drew together in a puzzled frown, creating deep furrows in his forehead as he observed Karkaroff''s increasingly borate examination.

    Karkaroff waved his wand in the air as he circled the tform. Each tap of his wand against the Goblet''s surface produced subtle variations in the magical mes, which he studied with the intensity of a schr examining an ancient text.

    "What exactly are you looking for, Professor?" Viktor''s usually gruff voice was made even hoarser by his illness.

    "We must have the greatest caution, Viktor¡ª" Karkaroff replied distractedly, his attention never wavering from his magical investigation. The mes of the Goblet cast strange shadows across his angr face, deepening the lines of paranoia etched there.

    "When you have lived as long as I have, seen what I have seen, you learn that appearances can be desperately deceiving. We are dealing with the most cunning wizard of our century, a master of deception who hides his true nature behind a carefully constructed mask of benevolence and virtue." His voice dropped to a whisper, though it carried clearly to his students. "There is every possibility that this goblet has been enchanted to discriminate against and filter out the finest students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons!"

    "You mean Mr. Watson?" Krum asked incredulously. "But he seems so... straightforward and direct, He doesn''t seem like someone who would do such things. "

    Karkaroff''sugh was sharp and unpleasant.

    "I''m talking about Albus Dumbledore¡ª" His yellowed teeth gleamed in the magical light as his lips curled into a knowing sneer. "Your naive perception of Dumbledore''s character reveals your youth, Viktor. One does not be the greatest wizard of our time through simple righteousness and good intentions. When ites to schemes and plots, even the Dark Lord¡ª"

    Karkaroff caught himself abruptly, the words disappearing in his throat as his head snapped around, with his dark eyes darting to every shadow in the vast hall and his hand instinctively rose to his left forearm. Only after a thorough scan of their surroundings did he allow himself to rx slightly.

    "As for Bryan Watson¡ª" Karkaroff continued, finally stepping back from the Goblet with obvious reluctance. He turned to face Krum fully, his expression turning serious. "I understand your admiration for his magical abilities, Viktor, but don''t forget what I told you about Watson¡ªhow he outmaneuvered both us and Beauxbatons to make Hogwarts the host school for the Triwizard Tournament. His methods are no less cunning than Dumbledore''s, perhaps even more aggressive."

    His gaze swept the entrance hall once more, taking in the cold stone walls and ancient tapestries with unveiled contempt. The torchlight caught the silver in his hair and beard, making him appear momentarily older, and creepier.

    "In any case, we must be extremely careful... I even suspect that if Hogwarts doesn''t win the tournament in the end, Watson might directly sabotage you and the Beauxbatons champion. After all," his voice dropped to a whisper, "those who appear most straightforward often harbor the deepest capacity for treachery."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0512 Truth

    0512 Truth

    Karkaroff indeed doted on Viktor Krum. After Krum put his name into the Goblet of Fire and confirmed there were no mishaps, Karkaroff immediately put his arm around Krum''s shoulders and steered him away,pletely ignoring the disappointed expressions of the other students he had brought. Bryan believed that even if the tournament rules required each school to provide a certain number of candidates, Karkaroff might have brought only Krum topete.

    For this surveince, Bryan had added some functionality to the Omnicrs'' terminal - it could now not only show images but also transmit sound.

    In the warmth of the office, neither Bryan nor Dumbledore showed the slightest reaction to Karkaroff''s earlier disparaging remarks about them. Their faces remained emotionless, calm even, as they watched the Durmstrang group fade from the magical surveince image like ghosts dissolving into mist.

    "This is unexpected--" Bryan slowly rose, walked to the firece, and took the brass kettle from the shelf to refill his cup with hot water. Holding the cup, he gazed through the gap in the curtains at the Durmstrang students and their teacher walking towards the ghostly ship by theke in the darkness.

    "I thought Voldemort would contact his old servant and have him act on his behalf, After all,pared to the difficulty of infiltrating Hogwarts, Karkaroff would find it easier to act ¡ª" His voice trailed off, leaving the thought suspended in the warm air of the office.

    "You don''t understand Tom well enough, Bryan--" Dumbledore said calmly. "Unless absolutely necessary, I believe he won''t risk exposing his identity to his former followers before regaining his powers. Especially since, after his defeat by Harry years ago, Professor Karkaroff''s actions might not seem particrly loyal in Tom''s eyes."

    Bryan nodded slightly, keeping his gaze on the Durmstrang group until they returned to their ship.

    The night sky above was a canvas of darkness, with the moon struggling to pierce through denseyers of clouds. What little light managed to break through aided only to emphasize the overwhelming darkness, making the shadows seem deeper and the autumn chill more prating.

    Shifting his attention, Bryan surveyed the rest of the grounds. The Beauxbatons carriage waspletely dark with all lights extinguished.

    The sudden sound of movement from the entrance hall drew their attention sharply back to the magical surveince. Though no figure was visible to the eye, the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed through the space, descending cautiously the grand staircase. The invisible one made its way to the entrance hall, finallying to a stop before the age line drawn by Dumbledore.

    The hidden figure seemed to be conflicted and hesitant, not acting rashly. For a moment, only the crackling of burning torches and the sharp, frightening wind howls could be heard in the hall.

    This silencested for about ten minutes.

    Finally, determination won out over caution. The invisible student stepped across the magical boundary. Dumbledore''s age line responded with wisps of silvery mist, like breath on a cold morning. One second passed, then two, then three¡ª When nothing immediate happened, a soft sound of suppressed cheer escaped the invisible figure''s lips.

    Standing beneath the Goblet of Fire, she clutched her carefully prepared parchment, her invisible smile already tasting the sweetness of anticipated glory.

    However, fate¡ªand Dumbledore''s magic¡ªhad other ns. Without warning, an invisible force seized her with the strength of a giant, spinning her through the air like a medieval trebuchet''s projectile before unceremoniously depositing her well outside the age line.

    "Oh!"

    Her cry of surprise echoed through the hall as shended roughly on the polished marble floor, the impact forcing her invisibility to waver. As the pain became bearable, she struggled to get up, and instinctively touched her face. Then, she felt a bushy beard.

    "Oh!"

    The Ravenw girl cried out for the second time¡ª where once had been the smooth face of a young girl, there now grew a magnificent beard worthy of a medieval wizard.

    The embarrassment wasplete when she realized her Disillusionment Charm had failedpletely, leaving her transformed state visible to any who might pass by. Ovee with shame, The Ravenw girl fled up the stairs, her sobs echoing in the empty corridor.

    "To be fair, Miss Fawcett''s Disillusionment Charm was quite proficient¡ª" Bryan chuckled.

    "I agree with your assessment, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore''s eyes twinkled with amusement as he responded, "At Hogwarts, Ravenw students invest the most effort in their studies, so their grades are generally better than the other three houses. It''s always been that way. Honestly, I didn''t expect anyone to brew an Aging Potion so quickly. Miss Fawcett must have been well prepared in advance¡ª"

    <strong>Tap, tap, tap--</strong>

    At that moment, a rhythmic sound of something hitting the floor interrupted Bryan and Dumbledore''s conversation, drawing their attention back to themotion in the entrance hall.

    "Professor Moody?" Bryan''s voice carried a note of suspicion as he watched the figure materialize from the darkness. "What''s he doing down here at this hour?"

    "I guess stor is on patrol--" Dumbledore said calmly, stroking his silvery beard. "stor has fought evil his entire life. His experience and instincts are no weaker than ours. Clearly, he too realizes that if someone were to try something, tonight would undoubtedly be the most opportune moment--"

    The scene unfolded exactly as Dumbledore suggested.

    Professor Moody stopped outside the age line, leaning on his staff. His blue magical eye spun wildly in its socket, seemingly observing if any ill-intentioned individuals were lurking nearby. After a minute, having confirmed the area was safe, he began circling the Goblet of Fire. Both his eyes were fixed on the rough surface of the goblet, as if, like Karkaroff, he was checking whether anyone had tampered with it.

    After a while, Professor Moody stopped. He gazed for a moment at the sleeping portraits on the wall, then turned and left the entrance hall, heading towards the castle grounds.

    "nning to patrol the grounds?" Bryan took a sip of hot tea and shook his head slightly. "He should have put on some extra clothes. It''s not that warm outside. If he falls ill, I''ll have to cover the Defense Against the Dark Arts sses again--"

    Dumbledore smiled helplessly.

    It must be said that sometimes, the Slytherin traits in Bryan were very obvious. One shouldn''t expect him to be particrly tolerant towards people he didn''t like.

    Dumbledore was about to make some excuses for stor''s rash behavior in the entrance hall at the beginning of the school year, but suddenly, the very rhythmic sound of a staff hitting the floor was heard again, interrupting what Dumbledore was about to say.

    Moody, who had left the castle just minutes ago, had returned. He didn''t go upstairs directly but stopped once again outside the age line. His magical eye swiveled left and right a few times before locking onto the Goblet of Fire ced in the center of the circle. The broken face that appeared in the center of the Omniocrs'' captured image wore a deep expression.

    <strong>Thud--</strong>

    Bryan slowly ced his teacup on the mantelpiece, staring directly at the light and shadows, his eyebrows slightly raised, his purple eyes as deep as an abyss.

    On the sofa, Dumbledore''s back quietly left the soft backrest. His face turning expressionless, a hint of coldness shone through his blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles. In the breeze formed by the heat radiating from the firece and the chill squeezing through the door cracks, Dumbledore''s silver hair and beard swayed gently.

    After standing in silence for a while, Moody, with a grave expression, crossed the age line and positioned himself under the Goblet of Fire. He put his hand in his pocket and when he took it out, his palm held a folded piece of paper.

    A sh of pale spell light appeared, and the blue-white mes erupting from the Goblet of Fire began to shake violently. Even the roughly carved goblet itself shook fiercely, as if resisting something. But finally, this resistance was suppressed, everything returned to calm, and the piece of parchment in Professor Moody''s hand disappeared into the mes that had just been disturbed.

    <strong>Gulp, gulp, gulp--</strong>

    Moody''s motion of opening the sk he always carried was almost desperate. He took severalrge swigs of the drink, and the irregr breathing and sudden liquid rushing down his throat caused him to cough violently twice.

    Seeming to realize he had made a lot of noise, Professor Moody limped away, leaning on his staff. He didn''t go upstairs but instead quickly walked towards the side of the entrance hall, his figure swiftly disappearing into the shadows of the underground passage leading to Slytherin.

    "How interesting--"

    In the sky, the clouds parted, revealing the moon.

    Bryan picked up his teacup again, calmly looking at Dumbledore, who returned the calm gaze, and repeated, "How interesting--"

    The clouds, heavy and ominous just moments before, gradually parted like a theatrical curtain drawing back, revealing a brilliant full moon that cast its ethereal silver light across the Scottish Hignds, as all the dust finally settled.

    In the office, Bryan and Dumbledore sat facing each other on the sofa. Both of their expressions were calmer than the other had expected - no shock, no anger, no agitation or confusion. There was only a hint of relief now that the final answer had been revealed.

    The once-roaring mes in the massive stone firece had dwindled to glowing embers and the light from the wall portraits became the only illumination in the office. Bryan leaned back into the soft sofa, his gaze following the wisps of steam rising from his teacup as he absently stroked his chin.

    "The sk contained Polyjuice Potion?"

    "I share your conclusion, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore''s response came with his characteristic tranquility. "This reveals at least one crucial detail: the genuine stor must still be alive. The impostor must be keeping him close by to harvest his hair for the potion. Hmm, I believe stor should be somewhere in the Impostor''s office. What do you think, Bryan?"

    "A reasonable conclusion, indeed¡ª" Bryan responded with a slight incline of his head, his prating gaze cutting through the room''s misty atmosphere to study Dumbledore''s aged face which bore a somewhat cryptic expression.

    Bryan couldn''t suppress a surge of admiration for the man before him.

    Despite stor Moody having been Dumbledore''s trusted confidant and friend for countless years, the discovery of his friend''s dire predicament hadn''t shattered the Dumbledore''sposed demeanor. He showed no apparent worry for Moody''s fate.

    When circumstances demanded clear-headed analysis and cold, calcting rationality, Albus Dumbledore demonstrated why he was renowned as the greatest wizard of the age - his ability to set aside personal feelings in favor of logical deduction was truly remarkable.

    "What continues to perplex me¡ª" Bryan began after several moments of contemtive silence, his eyes meeting the brilliant blue gaze that peered out from behind Dumbledore''s signature half-moon spectacles.

    "I recall a conversation fromst year, during the incident when the Dementors invaded the school grounds in pursuit of Sirius. You said you noted certain peculiar changes in my Patronus charm. At that time, you mentioned possessing the ability to perceive, to some degree, the state of an individual''s soul. Professor Dumbledore, given this capability, shouldn''t you have been able to detect the Polyjuice deception, especially considering Professor Moody was your old friend?"

    "I won''t attempt to justify what was clearly an oversight on my part, Bryan, and it was indeed a terrible mistake¡ª"

    For the first time that evening, a trace of bitterness crept into Dumbledore''s expression, manifesting at the corners of his mouth in a way that aligned more closely with what others might expect from someone who had discovered such a betrayal.

    "I ced myplete trust in stor Moody. He served not only as my capable assistant but also as an unwavering supporter through countless situations, and I allowed this trust to breedcency. It blinded me to the impostor''s suspicious behavior after their arrival at Hogwarts. As for the matter of perceiving one''s soul¡ª"

    Dumbledore paused meaningfully, his eyes twinkling with a light that seemed to outshine the dim illumination of the office.

    "While I do indeed possess this remarkable ability, such extraordinary magic isn''t as straightforward as summoning a te of sherbet lemons from the kitchen with a simple charm. It takes a considerable toll on the wielder. Until I glimpse Tom''s ultimate fate, I hope to carefully maintain my health. If Tom were to learn that I''ve grown so frail that I need assistance just to walk these halls, it would bring him considerable satisfaction. Additionally, As a professor, I wish to maintain a certain dignity in front of my former students¡ª"

    Bryan gazed deeply at Dumbledore, whose eyes remained frank and steady, uncertain whether this exnation was a cover-up or the truth.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0513 Identity

    0513 Identity

    For years, the wizarding world had engaged in endless spection regarding the extent of Albus Dumbledore''s remaining powers.

    Since his legendary duel with Grindelwald, which had be the stuff of magical history, few credible reports existed of Dumbledore engaging in magicalbat. Many in the wizardingmunity had concluded that Albus Dumbledore, having surpassed his first century of life, retained little of his former magical might. They continued to revere him primarily for his umted wisdom and high reputation rather than his current capabilities.

    Even those who worked closely with Dumbledore hade to view him more as a spiritual guide and source of moral support, cing their faith in his wisdom rather than his magical prowess. Perhaps Bryan counted among the few who truly understood the depth of Dumbledore''s abilities.

    A subtle yet persistent aura oftent power emanated from Dumbledore''s aged body, serving as a constant reminder that this centenarian wizard possessed far more strength than others suspected. Bryan had even begun to harbor suspicions that Dumbledore held some form of magical trump card, one he had been carefully preserving specifically to counter Voldemort... or possibly to use against Bryan himself, should circumstances ever require it.

    "Do you think¡ª" Bryan shifted his gaze toward the window, where moonlight streamed through the leaded ss, his voice dropping to barely more than a whisper, "Headmaster Dumbledore, that we should attempt to ascertain the impostor''s true identity?"

    "Ah, naturally¡ª" Dumbledore rose from the sofa with surprising grace for one his age. "While we''ve reached our understanding about permitting Tom to regain his power, we should at minimum know to whom we''ve been paying a professor''s sry. Come, Bryan, let''s unravel this final mystery¡ª"

    The night had grown bitter cold, and Hogwarts, perched majestically upon its hignd cliffs, had sumbed to deep slumber. Throughout the vast castle, it appeared that only the Headmaster and the Head of Student Security remained awake - though surely the industrious house-elves toiled away in the kitchens far below, preparing for tomorrow''s breakfast feast.

    Dumbledore and Bryan walked through the ancient stone bridge suspended thousands of feet above the ck waters of theke, their footsteps echoing off the weathered stones. They navigated the maze like corridors, their way lit only by asional torches that cast long shadows on the castle walls, until finally arriving at the imposing tower that housed Dumbledore''s private office.

    Within the Headmaster''s office, Fawkes the phoenix dozed upon his golden perch above the ornate fire basin. The portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses hung in their frames, their figures snoring softly or muttering in their sleep. The circr chamber hummed with the gentle whirring and clicking of dozens of mysterious silver instruments - delicate alchemical devices whose purposes were known only to Dumbledore himself.

    "Please, make yourselffortable, Bryan. We''ll require the assistance of certain specialized tools¡ª"

    Bryan settled into an armchair while Dumbledore moved with surprising jolliness toward the towering bookshelf, retrieving an extraordinarilyplex silver mechanism from a lowerpartment and ced it carefully upon his massive w-footed desk.

    Bryan noticed, with some amusement, a hint of barely contained excitement in Dumbledore''s movements, rather simr to that of Hermione encountering a particrly challenging examination question.

    "Now then¡ª"

    Dumbledore withdrew his wand with a flourish and delivered a gentle tap to the mysterious device. Bryan felt a subtle yet unmistakable wave of magical energy suddenly pulse outward, rapidly expanding beyond the confines of the office like ripples in an invisible pond.

    After approximately fifteen seconds of tense anticipation, the device unexpectedly sprang to life, producing a series of melodious chimes that echoed off the stone walls. The delicate silver tubes protruding from its upper surface began emitting pale green smoke that merged and swirled in the air above the desk.

    Bryan instinctively rose to his feet, and both he and Dumbledore observed with rapt attention as these ethereal wisps gradually thickened and began to take recognizable form, waiting with bated breath for the final revtion.

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    Just moments before the answer could fully materialize, a brilliant sh of emerald light suddenly erupted within the smoke. Dumbledore''s gaze sharpened instantly, his reflexes still lightning-quick as he swiftly brought down his wand in a decisive motion. The carefully formed smoke pattern scattered at his intervention, and that ominous green light dissipated like morning mist before the sun.

    "Oh, how fascinating indeed¡ª"

    This time, it was Dumbledore who broke the tense silence, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of enthusiasm:

    "Extremely vignt and careful, our mystery guest. I believe precautionary measures have been implemented at every conceivable level, extending even to the very soul¡ª"

    Dumbledore''s bright blue eyes met Bryan''s, a knowing smile appearing across his aged face as he continued:

    "This unknown gentleman ordy has employed a rather ingenious method of disguising their soul''s signature. I very nearly triggered their protective enchantment, but... in my considered opinion, this doesn''t appear to be the handiwork of an ordinary wizard or perhaps.... any wizard."

    If Bryan failed to grasp Dumbledore''s implication now, he would truly deserve to be counted among the dullest minds ever to walk Hogwarts'' halls. In fact, it was a conclusion that required remarkably little deliberation to reach.

    After a prolonged moment of heavy silence, broken only by the soft whirring of silver instruments, Bryan released a deep sigh and shook his head in resignation.

    "Cliodna, this foolish woman," he muttered, his voice tinged with exasperation, "she seems determined to spend whatever remains of her life behind the cold walls of Azkaban prison."

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong>*Scenebreak*</strong>

    Thest day of October fell upon Hogwarts with an air of unusual anticipation. While Saturdays typically saw students indulging in their warm beds until well past breakfast time, this particr morning was remarkably different.

    The stone corridors echoed with the sound of hurried footsteps as young wizards and witches, descended the staircases earlier than usual for a weekend morning. As they rushed through the gigantic wooden doors into the entrance hall, they collectively gasped in wonder at the sight that they saw: The Great Hall had undergone yet another magnificent transformation.

    The enchanted ceiling above, which perfectly mirrored the early morning sky, now had an enormous flock of live bats. Hundreds of carved jack-o''nterns peered down at the students with flickering, mysterious expressions from every corner.

    The stone walls were adorned with vibrant Halloween decorations - shimmering orange and ck ribbons that seemed to dance, floating candles that cast an eerie glow, and skeletons that did twirls in mid-air.

    The young wizards suddenly realized: <strong>Today was Halloween.</strong>

    In previous years, the Halloween feast had had always been a source of excitement and anticipation that students spoke about for months after that. This year, however, the traditional festivities had been overshadowed by something even more extraordinary - the legendary Triwizard Tournament.

    Near the enormous oak front doors, Hagrid''s masterpiece pumpkins stood like watchmen, each one magically erged through careful application of the Engorgement Charm until they matched small cottages in size. Their orange surfaces gleamed in the morning light, but few students lingered to admire them.

    Instead, the crowd gathering in the entrance hall buzzing with excitement, and all eyes were fixed upon the Weasley twins, Fred and George, who were about to attempt a great experiment.

    "Their foolhardiness truly knows no bounds," Hermione said with indignation as she watched the scene unfold. "What makes them think they can seed?" Her voice carried that familiar tone of intellectual superiority as she continued in a matter-of-fact tone, "An Aging Potion, of all things! Do they honestly believe Professor Dumbledore would be deceived by such a simple potion!"

    Harry, also anticipating the oue, heard Hermione''s criticism and said fairly, "You can''t really me them, though," he said thoughtfully, running a hand through his messy ck hair. "And I bet they aren''t the only ones trying this. The promise of bing a champion, instantly achieving fame throughout the wizarding world, not to mention winning arge sum of Galleons - it''s the kind of temptation that would make anyone at least consider bending the rules."

    "Yeah, Dumbledore''s brilliant, no question about that-" Ron interjected, his freckled face vibrant with excitement as he watched his older brothers'' preparations. His bright blue eyes sparkled with barely contained enthusiasm, clearly disagreeing with Hermione''s assessment.

    While Hermione shot Harry a disapproving re, Ron pressed on with his theory, "But that''s exactly why this might work! A wizard of his caliber would be focused on detecting powerful magical tampering, not simple potions. He''d probably be looking for someone trying to break his age line with advanced spells, not thinking about basic tricks like this-"

    "Oh, your logic is absolutely fascinating, Ron-" Hermione''s voice dripped with sarcasm as she rolled her eyes dramatically. "But have you considered the bigger implications if such ''simple tricks'' actually seeded? Imagine the diplomatic nightmare if Hogwarts'' champion turned out to be an underage student!

    How would Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson exin such a breach to Beauxbatons and Durmstrang? Remember, Hogwarts wasn''t automatically chosen to host this tournament - they must have worked tremendously hard to secure this honor."

    Her wordsnded like a bucket of cold water on both Harry and Ron. The truth was, they hadn''t considered theserger consequences, and Harry was certain that Fred and George, in their enthusiasm, hadn''t either.

    "Perhaps we should stop them?" Harry suggested hesitantly, watching as the twins continued their preparations, their matching grins growing wider by the moment as they joked with their admirers.

    Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson were two wizards Harry respected the most. While the prospect of bing Hogwarts'' champion had undoubtedly crossed his mind more than once, he would much rather remain a spectator than risk causing difficulties for two wizards he deeply respected.

    Ron''s previous enthusiasm was notably diminished as he shifted ufortably, his gaze toward his brothers now was tinged with concern rather than excitement. He had secretly harbored hopes of trying the same method if Fred and George''s method was sessful.

    Now, after Hermione''s reminder of the potential consequences and considering Professor Watson'' kindness to their family, Ron realized that if bing a champion would cause trouble for Professor Watson, his mother would likely tear him apart before he could even participate in the first task.

    "Oh, I don''t think we need to-" Hermione said confidently, crossing her arms as she watched the twins'' preparations with disapproval. "They''ll soon learn their lesson. They''vepletely forgotten Professor Watson''s explicit warning about age restriction attempts."

    Meanwhile, at another corner of the castle grounds, a different scene was unfolding in the crisp morning air.

    "Before you stretches one of Hogwarts'' most famous naturalndmarks, renowned throughout magical Britain - the magnificent ck Lake!" Bryan''s voice carried across the misty shore with infectious enthusiasm.

    The early morning sun struggled to pierce through the autumn mist that clung to theke''s surface like a protective nket. As the season marched steadily toward winter, a line of ancient paddles along the shoreline swayed their deep bright green branches in a hypnotic dance, their leaves asionally catching the weak sunlight and throwing off golden sparkles.

    Bryan was speaking enthusiastically¡ªat least, his expression said so. He was introducing the ck Lake to a group of visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang with passionate fervor. And he seemedpletely oblivious to their mixed reactions - some still fighting off sleep, others looking bewildered at his early morning energy.

    Earlier this morning, Mr. Bryan Watson had eagerly appeared at the quarters of both visiting schools, extending an invitation for aprehensive tour of Hogwarts.

    Naturally, no one had declined the opportunity to spend time with the famous Bryan Watson, especially when he offered to introduce the historical and magical wonders of Hogwarts, an institution that had significant importance in the world of magical education.

    To everyone''s surprise, however, their first destination had been the chillykeshore, where Bryan hadunched into an extended essay about the vast body of water before them.

    Among the visitors, Fleur stood out, her silvery-blonde hair catching the morning light as she silently fumed. Her facial features were set in barely concealed irritation as she red angrily at Bryan Watson gritting her teeth.

    The previous night, when she had left Bryan''s office, she had felt secretly triumphant. After all, Dumbledore had agreed on Bryan''s behalf to have him give her a tour of Hogwarts, and she thought it would be a good opportunity to spend time alone with Bryan. But to her immense disappointment, the man had transformed what she had hoped would be an intimate tour into a ''group expedition''!

    "The ck Lake is home to an extraordinary variety of magical aquatic beings," Bryan continued, his voice filled with intellectual enthusiasm. "Its depths harbormunities of merpeople, colonies of grindylows, and most notably, a remarkable giant squid. ording to Hogwarts'' historical records, this magnificent creature has dwelled in these waters since the school''s founding - it may well have witnessed the four great founders themselves walking these shores!"

    This captured the attention of many previously disinterested students, who suddenly perked up and began scanning theke''s surface eagerly, hoping to catch a glimpse of such legendary creature.

    "Now then,dies and gentlemen, please follow me closely. We''re now going to visit another noteworthyndmark on the Hogwarts grounds!"

    Bryan pped his hands forcefully, deliberately pushing past a cluster of shivering Beauxbatons students who huddled together against the biting wind. He pretended not to notice Fleur''s increasingly hostile re as she protectively held onto an elegantly dressed adorable little girl.

    "The Whomping Willow!"

    Leading his group across the frost-coveredwn to the opposite side of the grounds, Bryan gestured dramatically toward an enormous tree that was already showing signs of agitation, its massive branches swaying threateningly at the approach of so many potential targets.

    "This remarkable specimen is an extraordinarily rare magical nt with highly specific growing requirements," Bryan exined. "It can only thrive in locations with exceptionally high concentrations of magical energy. To my knowledge, this is the only one of its kind in all of Britain. However--"

    With a subtle gesture of his finger, Bryan levitated a substantial clump of moss from near his feet, guiding it slowly through the air toward the agitated tree.

    <strong>CRACK!</strong>

    The sound of the Whomping Willow''s strike cut through the morning air like a whip, followed by an explosive impact as the moss disintegrated under the tree''s powerful blow. Fragments of debris rained down upon the watching guests like raindrops.

    "As this demonstration clearly exins, it is an extremely dangerous nt-" Bryan''s voice took on a more serious edge as he addressed the guests, who were still letting out surprised yelps and brushing debris from their clothes and hair.

    "Since you''ll be living at Hogwarts for the entire academic year, I must emphasize this warning: never approach this tree out of curiosity during your free time. Every year, we have several overconfident first-year students who try to prove their agility by challenging it. As for the eventual fate of these unfortunate students - well, you''re wee to inquire with Madam Pomfrey, our exceptional school nurse, for the rather painful details-"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0514 Bad Luck

    0514 Bad Luck

    The peaceful morning air was suddenly shattered by a bone-chilling shriek that echoed across the grounds. The demolished moss, now transformed into a thousand tiny projectiles, pelted the faces of the front-row students with surprising force, each impact creating a sharp, crackling sound like miniature firecrackers.

    The unexpected assault sent the young wizards stumbling backward in pain and surprise, creating a domino effect as they collided with those behind them. The once-orderly gathering dissolved into chaos, with students shouting in variousnguages and trying to shield their faces from the organic shrapnel.

    As the initial pandemonium subsided and thest pieces of moss settled on the frost-covered ground, Bryan made an interesting observation.

    Rather than instilling the intended caution, his demonstration and exnation had sparked fascination among the visitors. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students, far from being properly intimidated, were studying the Whomping Willow with undisguised interest. Their eyes tracked the movement of its powerful branches as they sliced lethally through the air,pletely disregarding Bryan''s earnest warnings about the tree''s dangerous nature.

    A worried crease appeared on Bryan''s forehead as he contemted the situation. Perhaps, he pondered, it would be wise to suggest to Hagrid to erect some protective barriers around the Whomping Willow. After all, these Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students were guests from foreign magical schools. Any injury outside of the official tournament events could potentially spark an international diplomatic incident, something that could jeopardize not only the current tournament but future inter-school rtions as well.

    "Professor Watson," A young Beauxbatons witch called out eagerly, her ent giving her words a melodious tone, "What fascinating sight will you show us next?"

    "Well, for our next destination¡ª" Bryan began, but before he couldplete his thought, another voice cut through the crisp morning air.

    "Professor Watson!"

    Bryan felt his eye twitch involuntarily as he recognized the source of the interruption. Among the clustered Beauxbatons students, a familiar figure had raised her hand.

    "Might it be possible," The voice continued with carefully crafted innocence, "for us to visit that particr chamber within Hogwarts?"

    Fleur Dcour stood out among her peers like a ray of moonlight in darkness. She had little interest in Hogwarts'' grounds, which to her appeared crude and unkemptpared to the artistic magnificence of Beauxbatons.

    Where her own school had perfectly manicured gardens and elegantly designed architecture, Hogwarts seemed to her like little more than an ancient, weathered fortress. Nevertheless, certain aspects of the castle had captured her attention. She looked at Bryan, whose forehead was now creased with visible irritation, and a mischievous smile appeared across her face, and her eyes were sparkling with barely concealed amusement.

    "I''m referring, of course, to the legendary Chamber of Secrets," She borated, her voice taking on an almost theatrical tone of admiration. "The ce where you confronted and defeated that fearsome basilisk, finally lifting the thousand-year shadow that had haunted Hogwarts'' Muggle-born students for generations!"

    Fleur tossed her silvery hair, and gazed at Bryan with exaggerated adoration (feigned, of course).

    "If possible, I''d love to see the secret chamber left behind by the legendary wizard Szar Slytherin!"

    Fleur''s tone was like that of a teenage witch meeting her idol. This caused a problem, as the object of affection for virtually every male student at Beauxbatons, her suddenly apparent fascination with Bryan Watson caused an instant shift in the atmosphere. The Beauxbatons boys, who had moments ago looked at Bryan with admiration and respect, now directed barely concealed hostility towards him.

    Bryan didn''t care about those hostile nces, but Fleur''s request did trouble him. Before he could voice a tactful response, another voice joined the conversation.

    "Surely, Professor Watson, you wouldn''t deny such a modest request?" Karkaroff''s voice oozed false sweetness, his smile as thin and sharp as a de, never reaching his cold, calcting eyes.

    Earlier this morning, When Bryan had arrived at the ghostly Durmstrang ship to invite the students for a tour of Hogwarts, Karkaroff immediately insisted on joining the group, iming he''d long admired Hogwarts. But Bryan knew better¡ªthis man was probably worried he might try something underhanded with his students.

    The Chamber of Secrets, of course, was strictly off-limits. Visiting it was impossible. Even with the basilisk gone, the chamber held Hogwarts'' most closely guarded secrets, and was not something to be disyed like a tourist attraction.

    "I deeply regret, Miss Dcour," Bryan began, his voice carrying carefully cultivated regret, "that I cannot fulfill your request. You see, during my confrontation with the basilisk, the battle that ensued was particrly fierce. The chamber, already deteriorating from centuries of neglect, suffered significant structural damage. For everyone''s safety, we''ve had topletely seal off that area. Entering it is now impossible for anyone¡ª"

    Bryan noticed Karkaroff preparing to interject and quickly shot him a meaningful look, one that carried clear warning beneath its professional courtesy. Karkaroff, reading the message in Bryan''s eyes, thought better of whatever he had been about to say.

    "Besides," Bryan continued smoothly, turning back to address the whole group with a charming smile, "I assure you there''s nothing particrly interesting to see there now. The chamber is little more than a collection of fallen stones and dposing creature remains half-buried in putrid mud. Hardly worth your time or attention."

    "How horrible¡ª"

    The mention of dposing creature remains had an instant effect on young Gabrielle, who clutched her sister''s hand more tightly. "Please, sister, I don''t want to go there," she pleaded, her voice trembling slightly.

    Fleur, usually presenting a haughty demeanor, was surprisingly affectionate towards her sister. She immediately softened, and bent down slightly tofort Gabrielle with gentle words. Even in this moment of sisterly affection, however, she managed to shoot Bryan a ''resentful'' look; clearly aware that his exnation was just an excuse.

    "Professor Watson," Gabrielle''s voice, still holding a trace of uncertainty but brightening with curiosity, broke through the tension. "Could we perhaps visit that ce instead?"

    The young girl, still holding tightly to her sister''s hand, pointed toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Her voice, clear and sweet as a bell, carried the innocent enthusiasm that only a child could maintain after such a gruesome discussion.

    Perhaps due to her Ve heritage, Fleur''s sister Gabrielle appeared even younger than her actual age, giving her the appearance of a delicate porcin doll.

    "Ah, over there¡ª" Bryan''s entire demeanor changed as he looked at her. Even he wasn''t immune to the request of such an adorable little girl.

    "Of course, we can visit there! In fact," he continued, his smile growing warmer, "that was already on our itinerary for today¡ª"

    Bryan''s expression softened further as he spoke to Gabrielle.

    "That house belongs to Rubeus Hagrid, who is both Hogwarts'' gamekeeper and our Professor of Care of Magical Creatures. For nearly fifty years, Hagrid has dedicated himself to this school, personally guiding countless young witches and wizards who arrived knowing nothing of magic. He''s watched over them, supported them, and helped shape them into the outstanding witches and wizards they would be. It can be said that at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, apart from our Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, he is the most respectable wizard."

    "That''s amazing¡ª" Gabrielle eximed, her eyes wide with wonder.

    Fleur, who had spent considerable time with Bryan Watson in Paris, found herself taken aback by his tone. She had been present at the gathering where Bryan had met with many notable figures in the European magical world¨C distinguished Academicians, powerful political figures, and wealthy Businessmen. Throughout all these encounters, he had maintained an air of professional courtesy and respect.

    But never, in all their interactions, had she witnessed him speak to someone with such genuine warmth as he did now when describing Hagrid.

    Fleur''s eyshes fluttered as she nced at Gabrielle beside her, then looked back at Bryan with a somewhat gritted teeth expression.

    "Well then, shall we proceed?" Bryan gestured toward Hagrid''s hut. "During your stay at Hogwarts, Hagrid will be teaching all of you Care of Magical Creatures. He''s one of the most weing souls you''ll ever meet ¨C don''t be surprised if you find yourself invited in for a cup of tea and some of his... unique baking."

    Fleur was about to follow the group when she realized Gabrielle''s hand was no longer in hers. To her astonishment, she watched as her typically shy sister darted to the front of the gathering, falling into step beside Bryan with obvious delight.

    "Well, this is unexpected¡ª" A Beauxbatons studentmented with poorly concealed amusement, noting Fleur''s shocked expression. "Gabrielle usually shies away from strangers, but she seems quite taken with Professor Watson!"

    For some reason, Fleur felt an inexplicable pang in her chest at these words.

    While most of the visitors weren''t interested in Hagrid''s modest hut and its apanying vegetable garden, Gabrielle showed genuine fascination with every detail. Coming from Beauxbatons, where every nt was carefully selected and maintained for its aesthetic value, Hagrid''s practical garden represented something entirely new and intriguing to her young eyes.

    "Professor Watson," She asked, leaning against the rough wooden fence and peering into the garden with undisguised curiosity, "Did Mr. Hagrid grow all those big pumpkins we saw in the Great Hall?"

    The garden before them showed signs of recent harvest ¨C thergest pumpkins had already been transformed into the impressive jack-o''nterns now adorning the Great Hall, while the medium-sized ones had made their way to the kitchen. What remained were the smaller varieties, some still clinging to their vines, norger than a baby''s fist, looking quite adorable.

    "Indeed, he did," Bryan replied, his voice gentle as he patted her head kindly. "Would you like me to select one for you to take as a memento?"

    Just as Gabrielle''s face lit up with joy at the offer, Fleur pushed her way through the crowd. Perhaps due to their previous acquaintance in Paris, before Bryan had achieved such fame, the Bryan Watson that others feared wasn''t so intimidating to her. She gave him a stern look and said,

    "There''s no need to trouble someone we barely know, Gabrielle. I can help you myself¡ª"

    "Miss Dcour, Wait! The pumpkin patch has¡ª" Bryan''s warning came toote, as Fleur, determined to prove herpetence as a sister, had already darted around the fence and into Hagrid''s garden¡ª

    <strong>BANG!</strong>

    The explosion came with a brilliant sh of light and a thunderous boom that echoed across the grounds. Fleur was thrown backward, her face ckened with soot, crying out in pain as shended unceremoniously in the muddy ground between the pumpkin vines.

    The force of her fall had torn her uniform, revealing a glimpse of her pale, smooth calf ¨C a sight that caused every male student from both visiting schools to gawk shamelessly.

    "¡ªst-Ended Skrewts,"

    Bryan finished with a mixture of sympathy and resignation, watching as the proud Fleur Dcour discovered firsthand why Hagrid''s garden wasn''t as ordinary as it appeared.

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0515 The Incident

    0515 The Incident

    The enraged st-Ended Skrewt emitted a thunderous, ear-splitting roar that reverberated across the Hogwarts grounds, causing nearly half of the people present to jolt in surprise. The few Hogwarts students who had been leisurely strolling around the grounds on this crisp autumn day suddenly froze in their tracks, their faces etched with concern as they turned their worried gazes towards Hagrid''s rustic wooden hut. Some of the more curious and brave students were already breaking into a jog, as they rushed over to investigate the source of themotion.

    To be perfectly honest, even Bryan was startled by the unexpectedmotion. Beside him, Gabrielle was panicked. Her sky-blue eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she called out to her sister in a voice that quavered with fear and concern.

    The little girl''s silvery-blonde hair whipped around her face as she frantically attempted to dash into the tangled mess of vines and leaves of the pumpkin patch.

    However, just as Gabrielle was about to plunge recklessly into the chaotic tangle of vines, Fleur''s voice rang out tinged with a mix of pain and protective instinct. "N''approche pas, Gabrielle! Ce n''est pas s?r ici!"

    Her French words, tranting to <strong><em>"Don''te any closer, Gabrielle! It''s not safe here!"</em></strong>

    Gabrielle slipped to an abrupt halt at her sister''s words, her momentum causing her to stumble slightly. She stood there, frozen in ce, her small body trembling with a mixture of fear and helplessness as she was unsure of what to do.

    Karkaroff was also visibly startled by the sudden explosion. However, he quickly regained hisposure, smoothing out his facial features into a mask of indifference. His cold eyes flickered towards Fleur Dcour, who had fallen among the sprawling vines of pumpkins.

    A hint of amusement, perhaps even satisfaction, glimmered in his gaze as he struggled to keep a straight face. Turning to Watson, he said in his thickly ented English, a note of false concern barely concealing his underlying schadenfreude, "Beauxbatons'' potential champion is injured, Professor Watson. I think we should inform Madame Maxime. Do you want me to go?"

    Bryan''s piercing eyes flicked briefly towards Karkaroff, taking in the man''s poorly concealed glee. However, he chose not to respond to this thinly veiled attempt at shirking responsibility. Instead, Bryan nimbly leapt over the old wooden fence that enclosed Hagrid''s vegetable garden. His long strides carried him swiftly to Fleur''s side, where he crouched down to carefully examine her injuries.

    The peaceful autumn afternoon was further disrupted by Hagrid''s booming voice as he came lumbering around from behind his house.

    "What''s goin'' on? What happened?" he called out, his beetle-ck eyes wide with concern. Hagrid''s massive body casted a long shadow as he approached. His moleskin overcoat was sttered with mud, and his enormous dragon-hide boots were caked with it, suggesting he had just returned from one of his frequent excursions into the depths of the Forbidden Forest.

    As Hagrid drew closer, his puzzled expression deepened at the sight of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students gathered around his beloved vegetable garden. However, when his gaze fell upon Professor Watson crouched among the lush vines, examining a lying female student, his bushy eyebrows knitted together in concern. Without hesitation, he quickened his pace, his heavy steps causing small tremors in the ground as he hurried towards the garden.

    "Oh, it''s Professor Watson an'' that Beauxbatons girl--" Hagrid began, but his words were cut short by the arrival of three more figures sprinting towards the scene.

    Harry, Hermione, and Ron had evidently been on their way to visit Hagrid when they heard themotion. Now they came running across the grounds, their robes pping wildly behind them, and faces flushed with exertion and curiosity. They weren''t the only Hogwarts students who had gathered, drawn by the unusual noise and the growing crowd, but they were the only ones brave <em>(or perhaps reckless)</em> enough to follow Hagrid into the pumpkin patch itself.

    Harry, his messy ck hair even more disheveled than usual from the run, was the first to speak as his eyes quickly scanned the scene before him.

    "It''s the st-Ended Skrewts!" He eximed, immediately grasping the situation with only a nce. After all, they had been dealing with Hagrid''s new favorite pets for some time now.

    Karkaroff, who had been observing the unfolding drama with a mix of disdain and amusement, nced carelessly at Harry. He was about to turn his gaze back to Fleur, no doubt to further relish in her misfortune, but before he could do so, his body suddenly went stiff.

    His eyes, usually cold and calcting, widened in shock as they fixed upon Harry''s forehead. During the boy''s sprint across the grounds, his unruly hair had parted, revealing the lightning-shaped scar that had made him famous throughout the wizarding world. Karkaroff stared, transfixed, as if unable to believe what he was seeing.

    Meanwhile, Hagrid''s initial concern had converted into full-blown panic as he realized the implications of his cultivated pets injuring a Beauxbatons champion candidate. The incident with Buckbeak injuring Draco Malfoy the previous year was still fresh in his mind, a painful reminder of how quickly things could go wrong. With a trembling voice, he said, "I''ll go fetch Professor Dumbledore." His words carried a note of desperation, as if hoping that the headmaster could somehow make this all go away.

    However, before Hagrid could take more than a step, Bryan''s calm voice came through the air, stopping him in his tracks. "That won''t be necessary, Hagrid," he said, his tone calm and reassuring. "Let''s assess the situation first."

    Bryan turned his attention back to Fleur, who was still lying among the pumpkin vines. Her school uniform was now in disarray. The hem of her powder-blue skirt was torn, likely caught and ripped by the agitated st-Ended Skrewt during its explosive outburst.

    The tear exposed her calf, which, upon closer inspection, showed no obvious injuries. This was to be expected; if the Skrewts'' explosions were truly that damaging, Hagrid wouldn''t have dared bring them to ss, regardless of his penchant for dangerous creatures.

    Nevertheless, Fleur''s exposed skin was an unnatural shade of red, as if she had been briefly exposed to intense heat. It appeared that while the Skrewt''s st hadn''t caused any serious harm, it had managed to scorch her with its fiery expulsion.

    "How do you feel?" Bryan looked up at Fleur, his eyes meeting hers and asked calmly.

    When the incident first urred, Fleur had indeed been shocked, embarrassed, and more than a little angry. The indignity of being knocked off her feet by a magical creature in front of her peers and potential rivals was not lost on her.

    However, now that the initial surprise had worn off, she seemed moreposed. In fact, there was even a hint of secret delight dancing in her blue eyes as she met Bryan''s concerned gaze. Facing his inquiry, she wrinkled her pert nose slightly.

    "It hurts a bit--" Fleur said in a weak voice. She bit her lower lip, as if trying to suppress a wince, though whether from genuine pain or for dramatic effect was hard to discern.

    Bryan nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered the situation.

    "It seems we need to visit the hospital wing--" He said, his tone matter-of-fact but not unkind. "Don''t worry, Madam Pomfrey is very professional in healing. She''ll give you a thorough examination and have you right as rain in no time."

    With a subtle movement of his long fingers, Bryan performed a wordless spell. An unripe pumpkin nearby detached from its vine, rising into the air as if plucked by an invisible hand. As it levitated, the gourd began to transform, its shape twisting and elongating in aplex series of transfigurations. Within moments, what had once been a simple pumpkin had be an elegant stretcher for Fleur.

    With a flick of his wand, Bryan gently levitated Fleur from the ground onto the conjured stretcher. The magic was so smooth and controlled that Fleur barely felt the movement, settling onto the surprisinglyfortable surface with a small gasp of appreciation.

    As Bryan prepared to guide the stretcher towards the castle, his eyes noticed the mud staining the hem of Fleur''s skirt. He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of indecision crossing his face. Then, he shrugged off his own robe and carefully draped it over Fleur''s body.

    "Professor Karkaroff?" Bryan turned his head towards Karkaroff who was still almost mesmerized by Harry''s scar.

    "What?" Karkaroff was startled out of his trance-like state, his gaze reluctantly tearing away from Harry''s forehead. He blinked rapidly, as ifing back to reality, and focused on Bryan with a slightly dazed expression.

    "I need to take Miss Dcour to Hogwarts'' hospital wing to treat her injuries--" Bryan said calmly. "Would you mind informing Madame Maxime?"

    Karkaroff''s face twisted into a grimace. It was clear he didn''t want to leave, especially now that he had spotted Harry Potter. His eyes kept darting back to the famous scar, as if charmed.

    However, he had no suitable reason to stay, especially since he had just volunteered to notify Madame Maxime himself. Trapped by his own words, Karkaroff gave a curt nod and turned on his heel, his silver furs swirling around him as he strode away, casting onest longing look at Harry over his shoulder.

    "Well then--" Bryan turned to the still-shocked Hagrid, who looked as if he might faint at any moment. "I was just giving these visitors from afar a tour of Hogwarts grounds. Hagrid, if possible, could you continue the tour for me? It would be impolite to leave it unfinished--"

    Hagrid moved his lips, forming words that didn''t quite make it past his throat. His face had turned a shade of pale, the color standing out starkly against his wild ck beard. He knew it wasn''t quite appropriate for him to stay out of this situation, given that it was his creatures that had caused the problem. However, Professor Watson was already guiding the floating stretcher towards the castle, with the little Dcour girl trotting anxiously at his side.

    "Oh, and--" Bryan suddenly stopped about sixty feet away and called back to Hagrid, his voice carrying clearly across the distance. "Don''t take these children into the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid."

    With that final caution, he set off again, the stretcher floating beside him as they made their way towards the Hogwarts castle.

    As the small group disappeared into the distance, Harry turned to ask Hermione, his face etched with worry. "There won''t be any problems, will there, Hermione?"

    Hermione had an equally troubled expression. She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully before responding.

    "If you''re asking about the injuries that Miss Dcour received, Harry--" She began, choosing her words carefully, "I don''t think there will be any serious physical problems. st-Ended Skrewts, while certainly unpleasant, don''t cause particrly severe harm. I''m sure Madam Pomfrey can heal her in the blink of an eye."

    She paused, her brow furrowing. "But if you''re asking about the seriousness of this incident in terms of inter-school rtions or the uing tournament--"

    Hermione let out a deep sigh. "That depends entirely on Beauxbatons'' attitude. If they choose to make an issue of it, this could possibly cause quite a stir."

    As the golden afternoon light began to fade into the softer hues of early evening, the Hogwarts hospital wing was just beginning its normal operations after the quiet period following the start of term.

    From now until the end of the academic year, Madam Pomfrey would find herself with hardly a moment''s rest. After all, nothing in the world could stop imaginative young wizards from getting into mischief, concocting ill-advised potions, or mishandling spells in ways that often resulted in visits to her ce.

    As Bryan guided the floating stretcher through the heavy oak doors of the hospital wing, with Gabrielle trotting anxiously at his side, he was somewhat surprised to see a familiar face among the upied beds. Neville was perched on the edge of one of the white beds, looking rather sheepish.

    At first nce, he didn''t appear to have any visible injuries, but upon closer inspection, there was one ring issue: his left ear had somehow migrated to the center of his forehead, sitting there like a fleshy, misced third eye.

    "I was practicing the Switching Spell that Professor McGonagall assigned--" Neville exined in response to Professor Watson''s raised eyebrow, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson.

    Despite the seriousness of their own situation, both Fleur and Gabrielle couldn''t help but giggle at the sight.

    "What''s the matter, Bryan?" Madam Pomfrey''s voice came first before her as she walked out from one of the private wards.

    Upon seeing Bryan, her face initially darkened, no doubt remembering past incidents where he had brought in queues of injured students after particrly eventful Defense Against the Dark Arts and P.E lessons. However, when she realized he wasn''t followed by a parade of wailing students, she seemed to breathe a visible sigh of relief. Her stern facial features softened slightly as she quickly walked over to assess the situation.

    "This youngdy from Beauxbatons--" Bryan indicated Fleur on the stretcher with a gesture of his hand. "Her leg was slightly injured while visiting Hagrid''s vegetable garden."

    "Oh--" Madam Pomfrey''s eyebrows rose slightly as she lifted the robe covering Fleur. Her experienced eyes took in the situation at a nce. Students injured by Hagrid''stest batch of ''interesting'' creatures were neither the first nor would they be thest to grace her hospital wing.

    "Don''t worry, child--" Madam Pomfrey''s attitude was noticeably much gentler towards guests. Her voice took on a soothing, almost maternal tone as she spoke to Fleur, "A dab of essence of dittany will heal it right up. Of course, considering you might have been a bit shocked by the incident; I think you should have a cup of hot chocte with a Calming Draught. It''ll soothe your nerves and help you rx."

    Fleur''s face lit up with a dazzling smile, her natural Ve charm seeming to make the entire room a bit brighter. "Thank you, Madam,"

    In fact, Fleur was well aware that her injuries were far from serious. Even if left untreated, they would have healed on their own in a matter of days. But she was clearly delighted by this unexpected turn of events. The prospect of spending time alone with Bryan, away from the prying eyes of her ssmates was an opportunity too good to pass up.

    "As the culprit--" Fleur tossed her silvery-blonde hair over her shoulder. She focused her gaze on Bryan, her smile brightening even further and said eagerly. "You''ll stay here, won''t you?"

    Bryan, of course, couldn''t possibly leave. If Madame Maxime were to arriveter only to find that he had left Fleur here unattended, she would undoubtedly be displeased. The fact that this was actually a result of Fleur''s own mischief didn''t change the social obligations at y. He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Of course, Miss Dcour. I''ll stay until Madame Maxime arrives."

    Madam Pomfrey, sensed something unusual but chose not toment, and gently guided the floating stretcher carrying Fleur into a private room to treat her injuries. The crisp white curtains swished closed behind them, leaving Bryan and Gabrielle in the main area of the hospital wing.

    As soon as her sister was out of range, Gabrielle turned to Bryan, her big blue eyes - simr to Fleur''s - widened with an almost conspiratorial gleam. She beckoned Bryan to lean down, as if she had a great secret to tell. When he did crouched down to her level, she whispered, "Sister likes you--"

    Bryan''s eyebrows rose. "Oh, does she?" he replied, his tone gentle and amused. He reached out to adjust a stray lock of Gabrielle''s silvery hair that had fallen across her forehead. "Did she tell you that?"

    Gabrielle''s response was a curious mix of honesty and childish determination. She shook her head slightly, but then nodded insistently. Her small face scrunched up in concentration as she searched for the right words in English. "Sister talked about you all summer," She told, her voice still a whisper as if she was sharing a great secret. "She said you''re more special than any boy she''s ever met--"

    Then, with the solemn air of someone reporting a crucial piece of evidence, Gabrielle pointed at the robe draped over Bryan''s arm - the one he had covered with Fleur earlier. Her blue eyes were serious, as she continued, "And besides Papa, she never lets any other boy''s touch her, not even their clothes."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0516 Future

    0516 Future

    The light drizzle that had begun to fall over Hogwarts grounds seemed to mirror Fleur''s dampened spirits as her n to spend time alone with Bryan at the hospital wing ultimately fell through.

    The soft pitter-patter of raindrops against the castle''s ancient stone walls created a mncholic backdrop to the events unfolding inside it.

    Madame Maxime arrived at the hospital wing very quickly. Upon learning about the incident, she looked quite displeased, but couldn''t express her anger openly. After all, Fleur''s injury was partly due to her own recklessness, a fact that didn''t escape her notice.

    Moreover, the actual harm suffered by her student was minimal - at most, Fleur had lost a few leg hairs in the encounter with the st-Ended Skrewt. Madame Maxime couldn''t help but think that a simple fall on the marble stairs of Beauxbatons might have caused more damage!

    Still, the incident left an uneasy feeling in the pit of Madame Maxime''s stomach. Her eyes now held a hint of worry as they darted between Fleur and the Hogwarts staff present. Beauxbatons'' prime candidate encountering a problem before the Triwizard Tournament had even officially begun was undoubtedly a bad omen.

    To prevent any further such idents from happening again, Madame Maxime took up a vignt position by Fleur''s bedside.

    Bryan also wanted to demonstrate Hogwarts'' sense of responsibility, and didn''t leave either. As the afternoon wore on, the light drizzle outside intensified, casting a gloomy shroud over the grounds. The pitter-patter of rain against the hospital wing''s windows created a soothing yet somewhat mncholic ambiance. The oppressive atmosphere seemed to seep into the stones of the castle, making the air in the hospital wing feel heavy and muggy.

    Gabrielle, who had risen early that morning in excitement for the day''s adventures, found herself sumbing to the dreary atmosphere. Sitting by Fleur''s bed, she gradually began to droop, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute. Before long, she had fallen into a deep slumber, her head resting gently on her sister''s leg.

    Being a caring older sister, Fleur couldn''t help but worry about Gabrielle''s well-being. Her eyes darted between her sleeping sister and the less-than-warm environment of the hospital wing. The stone walls, while providing excellent instion during the scorching summer months, now seemed to radiate a chill. Concerned that Gabrielle might catch a cold in these unfamiliar surroundings, Fleur made the decision to return to their carriage.

    "Perhaps it would be best if we returned to our quarters," Fleur suggested, her melodious voice tinged with a hint of reluctance.

    Madame Maxime understanding Fleur''s suggestion nodded in agreement. She gently picked up the sleeping Gabrielle into her arms. The young girl didn''t wake up and remained peacefully oblivious as they made their way back to the Beauxbatons carriage.

    The journey across the Hogwarts grounds was dull. The misty rain cloaked thendscape in an ethereal haze, blurring the lines between earth and sky. Madame Maxime''s giant body led the way, Gabrielle held protectively against her chest, while Fleur walked alongside, her usual grace somewhat dampened by the day''s events.

    Upon reaching the powder-blue carriage that was their temporary home, Fleur heaved a sigh of relief as Gabrielle was safely rested within its warm interior. She smoothed her repaired skirt before turning her attention to the figure standing a short distance away.

    Bryan Watson stood about ten feet from the carriage, the misty rain creating a halo effect around his tall, lean body. Fleur''s heart skipped a beat as she looked at him, taking in every detail of his appearance.

    To Fleur, Bryan Watson was something entirely different from the young men she was ustomed to. At Beauxbatons, Fleur had nevercked admirers. Her Ve heritage ensured a constant stream of suitors, and she had experience in conversation and interaction with handsome boys.

    But Bryan Watson was different. His physical appearance, while undeniably attractive, was perhaps the least remarkable of his qualities. It was his air of mystery, the intense sense of power that seemed to radiate from him, that truly set him apart.

    Fleur''s intuition from her Ve heritage or perhaps intuition honed over years of dealing with fanatical admirers, gave her a unique insight. She could sense, with a certainty that both intrigued and frustrated her, that Bryan had never harbored any romantic thoughts towards her. This realization was as shocking as it was stimting to Fleur.

    Never before had she encountered someone immune to her charms at least not those of her age. It even sparked apetitive fire within her.

    "Would you like toe in for a bit, Mr. Watson?" Fleur asked, her voice carrying a hint of hope despite her try at casual indifference.

    Bryan''s response was as polite as it was disappointing. "Thank you for the kind invitation, Miss Dcour¡ª" He said, his smile gracious but distant. "But entering the living quarters of so many youngdies wouldn''t be a gentlemanly behavior¡ª"

    This rejection, while not unexpected, still stung. Fleur had observed Bryan''s careful maintenance of boundaries with everyone, which she had also noticed even during their encounters in Paris.

    Determined not to let her disappointment show, Fleur gave a sweet smile. "Then, I''ll see you tonight¡ª"

    "See you tonight, Miss Dcour¡ª" Bryan replied with a slight nod. "I hope you seed in bing the Beauxbatons champion¡ª"

    As soon as the carriage door closed behind Fleur, the friendly smile on Bryan''s face vanished, reced by a furrowed brow and a hint of worry in his eyes.

    If he wasn''t blind, he should have noticed the trace of affection in Fleur''s gaze every time she looked at him.

    And Fleur was different from the young witches in the upper years at Hogwarts. Those girls'' attitudes towards him were more akin to hero-worship, their attempts to pass him love letters more of a yful game than a genuine expression of feeling.

    But Fleur... Fleur was different. This girl seemed to genuinely hope for something to blossom between them, and she wasn''t shy about showing her feelings.

    Bryan could have ignored it, written it off as a passing fancy of a young girl away from home for the first time. But he felt that such a passive approach wasn''t quite right.

    The truth was, there was nothing inherently wrong with Fleur. The problemy with Bryan himself. His identity as a time traveler, the weight of knowledge about a future that might nevere to pass, and his long-term self-imposed istion had created barriers around his heart. He found himself instinctively rejecting anyone or anything that threatened to breach those walls, to touch upon the secrets he held so closely.

    Moreover - and this thought caused Bryan''s expression to cool further - the Wizarding world was in a state of barely contained turmoil. Signs were everywhere, for those who knew how to read them, that the existing structure and system could no longer quell the growing discontent among the different sses and Beings of the magicalmunity.

    Muggle technology had surged forward, its advances moving at a relentless pace, posing an undeniable threat to the magical world''s long-held secrecy. The future development of surveince, digital information, and globalworks would make it harder to maintain the delicate illusion that magic was mere fantasy. With every new device and breakthrough, wizards would face increased risk of exposure¡ªand, with it, the terrifying prospect of renewed persecution from Muggle societies that could now more easily detect and track magical activity.

    And then there was Voldemort on the brink of return. Add to this the ancient, thousand-year-long struggle between the legendary wizard Merlin, the four Hogwarts founders, and the dark wizard Herpo - a conflict that was now beginning to resurface after centuries of dormancy - and the future looked more unstable than ever.

    In such tumultuous times, Bryan couldn''t afford to have any "weaknesses."

    After taking a moment to steady himself, to confirm his resolve, Bryan cast his gaze around the mist-shrouded grounds. There was no sign of Hagrid in the gloomyndscape. It seemed that after the shock of the day''s events, het wasn''t in the mood to continue showing the guests around. Bryan couldn''t me him.

    With a sigh, Bryan turned his steps back towards the castle. Before the evening feast, he had nned to rest in his office. The previous night had been nearly sleepless, and he had risen early this morning to prepare the tour for the foreign delegations. He knew that after tonight''s feast, he could anticipate a heated argument - likely involving Karkaroff and Madame Maxime over the Skrewt incident - so he needed to reserve enough energy to handle the situation.

    But as is often the case in the unpredictable world of Hogwarts, things didn''t go as nned. Bryan had barely managed to get a little over an hour of irregr rest before being jolted awake by urgent knocking on his office door.

    Groggily, he made his way to the door, his mind still foggy with sleep. As he opened it, he found himself face to face with a rather flustered-looking Professor McGonagall.

    "Oh, I''m sorry, Bryan. I didn''t know you were resting!" McGonagall eximed, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of Bryan in his pajamas, rubbing his sleepy eyes. However, her surprise quickly gave way to a cooler expression, her lips pressing into a thin line that showed disapproval. It was clear she viewed napping in one''s office during the day as a form ofziness.

    "What brings you here?" Bryan asked, unable to suppress a yawn. He blinked rapidly, trying to chase away thest remnants of sleep. "How can I be of service, Professor?"

    Professor McGonagall''s posture straightened, her voice taking on a more formal tone. "Someone from the Ministry has arrived, Bryan. Specifically, Barty Crouch from the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He''s here for tonight''s feast¡ª" She pressed her lips together, her expression conveying the urgency of the situation. "You''ve worked with him before, so Albus hopes you can help entertain him."

    Bryan''s mind quickly shifted into gear, the mention of Barty Crouch dispelling thest of his drowsiness. "Where are they?" he asked, already moving to change out of his pajamas.

    "Just downstairs¡ª" Professor McGonagall replied briskly, her foot tapping on the stone floor. "In the small room behind the Great Hall."

    With Professor McGonagall constantly urging him to hurry, Bryan didn''t have much time to make himself presentable. He hastily changed his clothes, his fingers fumbling slightly with the buttons of his robes in his rush. As they made their way downstairs, Bryan attempted to tame his unruly hair, all while exining to McGonagall how the rumors about Hagrid attacking the Beauxbatons girl - which were now spreading like wildfire through the school - had started.

    This mishap,ing on the heels of the st-Ended Skrewt incident, undoubtedly angered McGonagall, who cared deeply about the school''s reputation. Her face grew increasingly pinched as Bryan recounted the events, and even he didn''t escape her sharp reproach.

    "You knew Hagrid always likes to keep strange creatures, but you still took them there, Bryan!" McGonagall eximed; her face ashen with anger. Her Scottish ent became more distinct, as it often did when she was upset.

    "Do you not realize how many eyes are on Hogwarts at this moment? If this gets out ¨C oh, I can just imagine the Daily Prophet''s headlines now: ''Hogwarts Employs Underhanded Tactics to Sabotage Beauxbatons'' Leading Candidate!''"

    By the time they reached the small room behind the Great Hall, Bryan was almost eager to face Barty Crouch. In the entire Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even in the entire wizarding world, only Professor McGonagall dared to scold him like an underage wizard, disregarding his status and power.

    As they entered the room, Bryan noticed that Ludo Bagman hadn''t traveled with Barty Crouch. Instead, Dumbledore and Crouch were talking by the firece, their backs to the door. From behind, Crouch''s posture looked unusually hunched, looking tired to the point where he wasn''t maintaining his usually rigid posture.

    "Ah, you''re here, Bryan¡ª" Dumbledore turned around, his blue eyes twinkling as he smiled calmly at the new arrivals.

    Bryan''s gaze focused on Crouch, who had also turned to face them. He was about to greet him with a smile, his hand already outstretched in greeting. After all, he had worked closely with Crouch in Paris for over two months, and while they weren''t in the same faction, Bryan admired certain qualities of him.

    But as Barty Crouch''s gaze met his, Bryan''s outstretched hand paused mid-air for a moment, and he almost couldn''t maintain his smile.

    Fortunately, He recovered quickly, not showing any outward signs of his internal surprise. Instead, he forced a jovial tone into his voice as he said, "How have you beentely, Barty? I heard you personally inspected those Dragon reserves?"

    Bryan''sughter sounded somewhat forced to his own ears, and was deeper than usual.

    "I was just listening to Barty''s stories about his inspection¡ª" Dumbledore interjected smoothly, but there was a flicker in his bright blue eyes. He looked at Bryan, still smiling calmly, "You should hear them too, Bryan. Thanks to Barty''s efforts, our first task can proceed as scheduled¡ª"

    *******************************

    For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy

    Sorry for the missing update, i was travelling and had the chapters on schedule update but it didn''t got updated somehow.

 0517 Barty Crouch

    0517 Barty Crouch

    Barty Crouch Sr. looked haggard, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness and his eyes, once sharp and alert, now darted about the room with an unsettling nervousness.

    Crouch seemed unusually sensitive to the cold, despite the warmth emanating from the roaring fire. He huddled closer to the hearth, his shoulders hunched and trembling slightly, as if trying to absorb every ounce of heat. After casting an impatient nce at Bryan, he quickly averted his gaze, fixing his eyes intently on the dancing mes. It was as if he yearned to melt into the fire itself, to escape the prating gazes of those around him.

    Bryan casually moved to Crouch''s other side, standing beside him with Dumbledore on the opposite nk.

    "What''s wrong?" Bryan asked, his tone carefully controlled to sound casual. His eyes, however, missed nothing as they scanned Crouch''s face. "Did something happen?"

    "Nothing whatsoever!" Barty snapped, his tone matching the impatient expression that shed across his face. He shrugged his shoulders dismissively, inching even closer to the firece. The mes cast an orange glow on his sallow skin, creating an almost ghoulish effect.

    Despite his rough denial, Crouch seemedpelled to offer an exnation. His words tumbled out in a rush, "I''ve been traversing half of Europe these days - first Norway, then Wales and Romania. Everything progressed smoothly enough at first; the dragon reserves in those locations had already carefully selected their most suitable specimens for the champions to face. But when we reached the Hungarian Horntail, things went awry. The staff there wanted the big fe to get used to its cage early, but they forgot it''s the time when it least wants anyone near!"

    With obvious reluctance, as if the very movement caused him pain, Barty pulled back his sleeve to reveal an angry red burn that sprawled across his forearm like a gruesome tattoo.

    "The timing couldn''t have been worse," he continued, his words tumbling out in an almost agitated rush. "We nearly lost the entire handling team. The healers at St. Mungo''s kept me confined to a bed for two endless days, and even then, the head Healer insisted I needed at least another week of recovery.

    Absolutely impossible, of course. Young Weasley in the office means well ¨C perhaps too well, his enthusiasm practically bubbles over ¨C but he''s too young,cks the experience. And with the champion selection looming..." His voice trailed off abruptly, as if he''d suddenly remembered he was saying too much. He stood there, breathing heavily, as if the exnation had drained him of hisst reserves of energy.

    Dumbledore, his blue eyes twinkling with concern behind his half-moon spectacles, spoke up. "Barty, you truly look like you need proper rest¡ª"

    To both Bryan and Dumbledore''s surprise, Barty strongly agreed. "Oh, yes, yes Indeed!" he eximed, his gaze once again fixed on the dancing mes. The fire reflected in his eyes, giving them an almost feverish gleam.

    "If you wouldn''t mind, Dumbledore, and you too, Bryan, I desperately need a moment of privacy before tonight''s feast begins. The champion selection is only the beginning ¨C I have to rush back to the Ministryter. So many matters requiring my personal attention..."

    He released a weary sigh that seemed to dete his entire being, his eyes drifting closed as exhaustion etched deeper lines into his face. His arm rested heavily on the mantelpiece, his body swaying slightly as if he might sumb to sleep at any moment.

    Bryan, sensing the need to give Crouch some space, turned to Dumbledore and said. "Let''s give Barty some space, Headmaster Dumbledore¡ª".

    "Much appreciated, Bryan¡ª" Barty mumbled, his eyes still firmly shut. His voice was dry, almost raspy, as he added, "Solitude is exactly what I require right now. I must admit, that St. Mungo''s Healer may have had a point after all. This cursed arm is absolutely screaming!"

    The walls of the small room were adorned with numerous portraits, their upants watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of interest. Some of the figures gazed at Barty Crouch with admiring eyes, clearly impressed by his dedication to duty even in the face of physical difort.

    As Dumbledore and Bryan made their way to the door, Dumbledore turned back, addressing Crouch''s hunched form. "If you need any help, Barty¡ª" he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine concern, " Don''t hesitate to send word through any of the portraits. They can locate me wherever I might be within these walls."

    With that, they left Crouch alone in the room, with the crackling fire as his onlypanion.

    The spacious Great Hall, usually bustling with activity, was rtively quiet. However, arge crowd of young wizards had gathered in the entrance hall, their excited chatter filling the air as they pointed at the Goblet of Fire.

    The ancient artifact stood proudly in the center of the hall, erupting with mesmerizing blue-white mes that cast an otherworldly glow on the eager faces surrounding it. The students were so engrossed in the spectacle that they failed to notice Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson quietly exiting from the front of the hall.

    Outside, the drizzling rain had prematurely darkened the sky, casting a gloomy shroud over the Hogwarts grounds. Considering the limited time remaining before the evening feast, Dumbledore and Bryan opted not to return upstairs. Instead, they left the Great Hall through a discreet side door, their footsteps echoing softly as they made their way to a small, secluded courtyard nestled between several of the castle''s imposing towers.

    The dark greenwn, freshly washed by the gentle rain, had taken on an eerie, almost ck hue. Raindrops glistened on each de of grass, creating a gleaming carpet that seemed to absorb what little light remained in the gloomy evening.

    At the heart of this lush area stood an ancient spruce tree, its knotted branches reaching towards sky like grasping fingers. Surrounding the tree was a circr flowerbed, meticulously constructed from warm goose-gray stones. The leaves of the old spruce rustled ominously as they were struck by the falling rain, creating a dark, almost terrifying symphony that perfectly matched the foreboding atmosphere.

    This secluded courtyard, rarely visited even on the brightest of days, now had only Dumbledore and Bryan. The two wizards stood in contemtive silence, the weight of their recent discovery hanging heavily in the air between them.

    Bryan''s gaze swept across the courtyard once, taking in every detail, before settling on Hogwarts'' highest and most imposing structure - the Astronomy Tower. Its silhouette loomed against the darkening sky overlooking their meeting.

    "Was it Voldemort''s doing?" Though he was asking a question, Bryan''s tone was very calm.

    Dumbledore, his long silver beard glistening with tiny droplets of rain, stroked his chin. His deep gaze seemed to pierce the dark clouds above, as if searching for answers in the turbulent skies and replied thoughtfully. "I believe so,"

    A long silence enveloped the two. Neither spoke, both lost in quiet contemtion of the problem at hand. The only sounds were the soft patter of rain on leaves and the distant, muffled excitement emanating from the castle.

    Bryan''s mind raced with questions and theories. If Voldemort already had an agent working for him inside Hogwarts, why would he also seek to control Barty Crouch?

    After all, Crouch wasn''t just any Ministry official - he was effectively the second-inmand at the British Ministry of Magic. His position was incredibly sensitive; if someone were to identally discover he was under the Imperius Curse, it would certainly not bode well for Voldemort in his current vulnerable state.

    Logically, Voldemort should take extraordinary cautions to remain hidden in the shadows, avoiding any action that might reveal his presence to the wizarding world atrge. Yet here he was, not only taking this enormous risk but doing so directly under the watchful eyes of both Dumbledore and Bryan. It was indeed a puzzling matter. Bryan had some vague theories forming in his mind, but nothing concrete enough to voice aloud.

    When it came to understanding Voldemort''s twisted psyche, Dumbledore certainly had an edge over Bryan. After all, he had been the one to first introduce young Tom Riddle to the magical world, personally extending his Hogwarts eptance letter to that peculiar, overbearing boy in the London orphanage. He had watched firsthand as that brilliant but troubled child transformed himself into the most feared dark wizard of the age, whose very name most people feared to speak.

    Sensing the shift in Bryan''s demeanor, Dumbledore broke the silence.

    "I don''t think Tom chose to act on Barty to control the Ministry through him. Oh, I have no doubt that''s part of his long-term strategy, but certainly not his immediate concern¡ª"

    He paused, his blue eyes twinkling with a mix of concern and deep thought.

    "My assessment is¡ª and I guess you''ve reached a simr conclusion, Bryan, is that something unexpected will unfold during tonight''s Halloween feast, barely an hour from now. This is certainly no spontaneous scheme ¨C it will be the result of Tom''s meticulous nning. However, it''s reasonable to anticipate that both Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will react rather... unfavorably... to the prospect of Hogwarts having two champions in the Tournament.

    Ah, of course, if Hogwarts had only one champion, and he was an underage wizard under seventeen, Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff might not raise such strong objections¡ª"

    Bryan nodded, his quick mind immediately grasping the implications of Dumbledore''s words. "I see what you mean¡ª" he said, his brow furrowing slightly. "You think Voldemort is worried these two schools might firmly resist the champion selection results, so he needs a wizard with authority to speak up."

    A small frown creased Bryan''s forehead as he continued, "It''s surprising he''s so cautious and can consider problems at this level. I thought after losing most of his soul, his mind wouldn''t be so sharp anymore."

    Though his words were clearly meant in jest, there was an undercurrent of genuine surprise in his tone. If Dumbledore''s guess was correct, Voldemort had indeed demonstrated a level of foresight and strategic thinking that was somewhat unexpected.

    Whether the truth aligned with Dumbledore''s theory didn''t require much spection - Barty''s behavior at the evening''s feast would undoubtedly reveal his true purpose. He had obviouslye to Hogwarts with a specific goal in mind; otherwise, he could have easily feigned continued illness at St. Mungo''s.

    The real cause for concern, however,y beyond this immediate situation.

    If Voldemort had indeed controlled Barty Crouch solely to ensure the addition of an extra participant in the Triwizard Tournament, what would be his next move after achieving this goal?

    Would he cruelly discard Barty as a sacrificial pawn after his usefulness was exhausted? Or would he seek to use him as a strategic foothold within the Ministry of Magic?

    Whichever path Voldemort chose, it was clear that Dumbledore and Bryan couldn''t simply stand idly by and watch events unfold. Yet intervening now would be unwise. Voldemort had finally extended a tentacle from the darkness; this was his most vulnerable moment. Any hint that he might have been exposed would likely drive him back into hiding, potentially setting back their efforts to control his ns by months or even years.

    Bryan''s thoughts turned to another puzzling aspect of the situation. Had Voldemort been lurking in Barty Crouch''s home ever since leaving Little Hangleton?

    But upon further reflection, he dismissed this idea as unlikely. As a well-known high-ranking official in the British Ministry of Magic, Barty Crouch''s residence would undoubtedly have a constant stream of visitors, both expected and unexpected. Such an environment would be far too ufortable and risky for Voldemort in his current weakened state.

    After long moments of contemtion, Bryan finally spoke. "I''ll have Sirius pay more attention to Barty''s recent condition," he said, his voice low and determined. "Of course, I''ll tell Sirius to keep his distance from Barty Crouch."

    Dumbledore pondered this suggestion for a moment before nodding, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

    In the void above them, the wild wind roared furiously like an ancient war horn calling warriors to battle. Standing in the darkened courtyard, Dumbledore and Bryan faced the rolling darkness, their figures silhouetted against the encroaching night. They seemed like a living barrier, separating the gloomy, ominous courtyard from the brightly lit Great Hall outside, where hundreds of students eagerly awaited the evening''s event, blissfully unaware of the dark clouds gathering on the horizon of their world.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0518 Feast

    0518 Feast

    The Halloween feast had always been a highlight at Hogwarts. The ancient stone walls of the castle had witnessed countless such celebrations, but none quite as anticipated as this particr evening. You''d be hard-pressed to find any feast morevish or grand than the Halloween banquet during your entire magical education at Hogwarts, and this year, the impending announcement of the Triwizard Tournament Champions added an electric undercurrent of excitement to the already spectacr event.

    The feast was officially scheduled tomence at six o''clock, but the enthusiasm of the young witches and wizards couldn''t be contained. Students began trickling down to the Great Hall as early as four in the afternoon. Some particrly eager ones had even stationed themselves in the entrance hall since dawn, their eyes never leaving the Goblet of Fire''s mesmerizing blue mes, hoping to catch a glimpse of those who might have submitted their names.

    As the clock struck half-past five, the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall perfectly mirrored the outside sky as it transformed into an inky expanse of darkness, scattered with twinkling stars. It was at this moment that Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way into the Great Hall together, their school robes slightly disheveled from what had proven to be an extraordinarily eventful day.

    The trio had originally nned to spend their entire Saturday at Hagrid''s cozy hut, secretly hoping to coax out some information about the uing Triwizard Tournament tasks from him. However, their ns had been dramatically derailed by the morning''s unfortunate incident involving the Beauxbatons girl, which had set in motion a chain of unexpected events that kept them upied throughout the day.

    They were thrust into the role of impromptu tour guides, apanying a flustered Hagrid as he attempted to show the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students around the Hogwarts castle.

    Hagrid was visibly distracted and anxious about Fleur''s injury, leaving the three of them to essentially conduct the tour themselves. Without Professor Watson''s natural charm and eloquence, they had desperately wracked their brains to showcase the castle''s most impressive features. In a stroke of inspiration, they had even managed to convince the usually protective Professor Sprout to unlock the greenhouses where countless magical nts were cultivated under her careful supervision.

    Despite their enthusiastic efforts, the visiting students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons remainedrgely unimpressed by the Hogwarts'' Tour. Throughout the tour, a steady stream ofints and barely concealed mockery continued, with many of the foreign students abandoning the tour halfway through.

    The constant criticism had grated on Hermione''s nerves in particr, leading to several heated exchanges with a group of particrly critical Beauxbatons witches.

    Viktor Krum, however, had been a surprising bright spot in their challenging day. Despite his visible illness, he preserved until the very end of the tour. Ron even managed to get his long-desired autograph, though he''d nearly fainted from excitement in the process.

    In the afternoon, Hagrid had tried to thank them for their help with an enormous pot of beef stew. However, Hagrid''s distracted state had led to some rather unfortunate culinary mishaps.

    The moment of truth came when Hermione, spooning through her portion, discovered arge w lurking beneath the surface of her stew. The discovery effectively destroyed the appetite of all three of them, though they made valiant attempts to appear grateful, pushing the mysterious meat around each others bowls while exchanging worried nces, trying to avoid Hagrid''s questioning look.

    In the afternoon, Hermione decided to teach Fr¨¦odom wizard chess to broaden its horizon beyond just housework. Her intention was also to help the house-elf develop some recreational skills. However, the attempt was more traumatic than therapeutic.

    Each time Fr¨¦odom lost a game ¨C which happened with rming regrity ¨C she would leap up from her tiny stool as if struck by lightning, her tennis ball-sized eyes filling with tears. These episodes would consistently end with the distressed house-elf wailing apologies to Hermione before attempting to punish herself by ramming her head into Hagrid''s roaring firece, sending clouds of soot and sparks flying across the room.

    After the third such incident, which had required both Harry and Ron to physically restrain the distressed elf, Ron had thrown up his hands in exasperation. "If you ask me, Hermione, it''s just not cut out for this. Even Neville''s better at it¡ª" he had said with a resigned shrug after another inevitable victory, his words earning him a withering re from Hermione.

    Meanwhile, Harry had tried in consoling Hagrid, who sat in his massive armchair looking utterly dejected. Harry tried repeatedly to convince him that Professor Watson would handle the morning''s incident, and that the Ministry wouldn''t seriously consider executing the st-Ended Skrewts over this unfortunate event <em>(though Harry privately thought that wouldn''t be such a bad thing)</em>. But his words offort seemed to bounce off Hagrid like spells off a dragon''s hide. Hagrid was still gloomy and Finally, even Harry''s patience began to wear thin.

    "Then go apologize, Hagrid!" Harry eximed with an exasperated sigh. "I think if the Beauxbatons Headmistress forgives you, the Ministry won''t have any reason to be overzealous and kill the Skrewts¡ª"

    To Harry''s surprise and relief, this suggestion was like a jolt of electricity on Hagrid.

    "Oh, that''s a brilliant idea!" Hagrid who had been dejected all day immediately perked up. His entire massive body seemed to inte with renewed hope. What followed was a whirlwind of activity that left the trio slightly dazed. They watched in amazement as Hagrid transformed himself, washing his wild hair with a peculiar perfume that smelled more like industrial-strength insect repellent than anything remotely sweet-smelling.

    The giant man then eagerly departed for the Beauxbatons carriage, leaving the three teenagers alone in his hut, surrounded by the overwhelming scent of his cologne.

    Few minutester, as they finally made their way toward the Great Hall for the feast, Ron''s nose was still wrinkled from the lingering memory of that smell.

    "Is Hagrid hoping to knock out the Beauxbatons Headmistress with that odor and then get her forgiveness?" He said, his freckled face contorted in a grimace as they reached thest step of the entrance hall.

    "If you ask me, he shouldn''t worry about the Ministry killing those Skrewts at all. I bet they couldn''t find a way to crack their shells if they tried. Of course, if the Beauxbatons Headmistress decided to do it herself, that''d be a different story. She''d just need to take a stroll through Hagrid''s pumpkin patch, and not a single Skrewt would survive. You know what I mean?"

    "Don''t be silly, Ron¡ª" Hermione giggled, her mood lightening slightly at Ron''s joke after what had been an overwhelmingly frustrating day. Her brown eyes sparkled with knowing amusement as she added, "Hagrid didn''t go to see Madame Maxime to apologize. Didn''t you notice his suit and hairstyle? He''s been nning to ask her out¡ª"

    As they entered the entrance hall, the sight before them momentarily stopped their conversation. The Goblet of Fire, which had stood in the hall for the past day, had been relocated to a position directly in front of Professor Dumbledore''s chair.

    The Great Hall itself was a breathtaking sight, illuminated by thousands of floating candles that cast a warm, golden glow over everything below. The enchanted ceiling perfectly mirrored the night sky outside, scattered with twinkling stars that seemed to dance among the floating candles.

    The usual house banners had been supplemented with additional decorations for the asion - intricate jack-o''nterns grinned from every corner, their carved faces flickering with light, while enchanted bats fluttered silently near the ceiling, adding a touch of spooky ambiance to the surroundings.

    The hall was already packed to bursting with students from all three schools, their excited chatter creating a constant buzz of anticipation that filled the vast space. Hermione, disying her usual quick thinking, grabbed both Harry and Ron by their sleeves and deftly maneuvered them through the crowd to find seats.

    Upon settling at the Gryffindor table, they noticed that Fred and George Weasley''s chins were now perfectly smooth, having finally recovered from their failed attempt to fool the Age Line. Hermione couldn''t resist raising an eyebrow and saying with a knowing smirk, "I suppose you''ve learned your lesson now, haven''t you?"

    "Oh! I believe true champions are those who challenge the rules, Miss Nosy Know-It-All!" Fred replied, his tone resentful but his eyes twinkling with their usual mischief.

    Harry''s attention was drawn to the staff table, where he noticed an additional figure among the usual faces. Besides Ludo Bagman, whose enthusiasm seemed unchanged from yesterday''s opening ceremony, there sat Barty Crouch, whom they hadst seen during the chaotic aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup final that summer.

    However, Crouch looked noticeably different now ¨C his face was haggard and sickly, and he looked particrly listless.

    "I think he should realize that without Winky''s help, he can''t manage life on his own," Hermione said with unusual harshness, her eyes fixed on Crouch''s hunched body. "He should feel remorse for his actions and ask for Winky''s forgiveness!"

    Harry and Ron exchanged a knowing nce, both recognizing that Hermione''s view was entirely wishful thinking. The reality was that Barty Crouch, as the prestigious Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, would never lower himself to apologize to a house-elf. If he wanted, he could easily buy a hundred house-elves to manage his daily affairs.

    "Wonder who''ll be the Hogwarts champion¡ª" Harry skillfully redirected the conversation, knowing from experience that any discussion involving house-elves with Hermione was bound to be a passionate crusade for elf rights.

    Fred, ever ready to join a conversation, especially one that steered away from their failed attempt to enter the tournament, jumped in immediately. "Hope it''s Angelina,"

    Angelina Johnson was the only Gryffindor upperssman they knew for certain had submitted her name to the Goblet of Fire, though others should also have entered their names privately.

    "Me too!" Hermione, sessfully distracted from her house-elf advocacy, waved enthusiastically at Angelina who was sitting a few seats away, with her fists clenched and her dark skin looking pale with nervousness. "Good luck, Angelina! Hope you be the Hogwarts champion!"

    The friendship between Hermione and Angelina had blossomed ever since their discussion about ''love'' with Professor Watson in the library.

    "Oh, thanks!" Angelina turned to Hermione, shing a nervous smile.

    The Halloween feast seemed to stretch on endlessly, each minute feeling longer than thest. Perhaps because it was their sumptuous feast in two consecutive days, the students appeared less impressed by the usual array of magnificent dishes that appeared before them.

    Throughout the vast hall, students constantly craned their necks, looking around impatiently. Every face showed signs of rising anxiety, from the first-years who wouldn''t be affected by the selection to the potential champions who sat rigid with anticipation.

    "Who do you think wille to announce the results?" Neville suddenly asked this question, his round face flushed with excitement. His words sparked an immediate and intense discussion among those within the hearing range.

    Ron, never one to miss an opportunity to voice his opinion, jumped in immediately. "Professor Dumbledore or Professor Watson, it''s got to be one of them¡ª" he said, his words slightly muffled as he simultaneously attempted to stuff an entire treacle tart into his mouth. Hermione shot him a disapproving look, but Ron seemed oblivious, too focused on his dessert and the conversation at hand.

    The discussion about this question helped to pass some of the unbearable waiting time. Theories flew back and forth - some suggested it might be Ludo Bagman, given his position in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, while others argued that as the host school, it should be a Hogwarts professor. A few even jokingly suggested that the Goblet itself might sprout a mouth and announce the champions.

    Finally, after what felt like ages, the golden tes magically returned to their original spotless state, gleaming in the candlelight as if they had never been used. The noise in the Great Hall suddenly swelled with anticipation, then just as quickly died down as Professor Watson rose to his feet.

    "Oh," Hermione sighed, unable topletely hide her disappointment. In the earlier discussion prompted by Neville''s question, she had firmly supported Professor Dumbledore, believing that as Hogwarts'' Headmaster, he should be the one to preside over such a momentous asion.

    The Great Hall fell into an immediate andplete silence. Hundreds of eyes from the lower part of the hall focused intently on Professor Watson''s tall figure, while at the staff table, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime appeared just as tense and expectant as everyone else.

    Ludo Bagman, in stark contrast, wore his characteristic broad smile, periodically winking at students from various schools as if they were all sharing some wonderful joke while Crouch looked utterly bored, as if he couldn''t wait to leave.

    "Ladies and gentlemen¡ª" Bryan''s voice carried clearly through the hushed hall as he elegantly walked around Professor Snape''s chair to position himself in the space between the staff table and the student tables,ing to stop beside the small table where the Goblet of Fire continued its dance of blue-white mes. He smiled at everyone and continued, "The agonizing, evesting feast hase to an end. Now, it''s time to reveal the answers for you, and for myself as well!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0519 Champions

    0519 Champions

    The Great Hall, already thrumming with anticipation, fell into an expectant hush as Bryan stood before the assembled students. His eyes swept across the sea of faces before him, taking in the barely contained excitement that seemed to radiate from every corner of the room.

    Bryan smiled gently and said, "I stand before you at this historic moment to offer my heartfelt congrattions in advance to the three young wizards who will shortly be chosen by the Goblet of Fire as champions."

    He paused, letting his words settle in the hushed atmosphere. "This Triwizard Tournament, the first to grace these halls in centuries, marks a momentous asion. Whether or not future generations continue this tradition, your names will be etched into the annals of magical history, and tales of your courage and achievements during these trials will echo through these corridors for generations toe."

    The allure of being remembered through history was tangible. Throughout the hall, students shifted in their seats, their breathing quickening as they imagined their names engraved into the annals of wizarding lore.

    Bryan''s expression then became more solemn, his brow furrowing slightly as he continued. "However, I also want to say something to those brave young wizards who despite submitting their names, may not be chosen by the Goblet of Fire¡ª"

    He paused, his eyes sweeping across the gathered students with concern. "In our lives, which feel both eternally long and impossibly brief, we encounter trials that test our spirit at every turn.

    The glory of oveing these daily challenges often surpasses any acim one might find in formalpetition. So, I hope each of you, chosen or not, will maintain your spirit of optimism and face whateveres in life with unwavering determination. Never allow yourselves to feel inferior or defeated by this single moment in time."

    As Bryan''s words echoed through the hall, their impact was immediately evident.

    At the staff table, Dumbledore''s eyes twinkled with approval as he led the apuse. Beside him, Professor McGonagall''s usual stern demeanor softened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she pped vigorously.

    The response from the students was initially scattered, like the first drops of rain before a downpour. But as the meaning of Bryan''s words sank in, the apuse swelled, growing in volume and intensity until it became a thunderous roar.

    "Such wise words¡ª" Dumbledore''s voice was thick with emotion as he turned to Professor Snape on his right, sniffing slightly as if holding back tears. Unsurprisingly, Snape''s sallow face darkened at this disy of sentiment, his lips curling into a barely perceptible sneer.

    The effect of Bryan''s speech was undeniable. Many of the young wizards who had been visibly anxious moments before now appeared noticeably calmer.

    As the apuse began to die down, Bryan raised his hands, gently silencing the roaring apuse.

    "Well, the Goblet of Fire is about to make its decision¡ª" He paused, allowing the tension to build. "I estimate it will take about another minute. When I call each champion''s name, they will proceed to the top of the Hall, walking along the staff table to enter the next chamber¡ª"

    Bryan gestured towards the room where Barty Crouch had been resting earlier, his movement drawing all eyes to the small door behind the staff table. "The champions will receive their initial instructions for the trials there¡ª"

    With a flourish, Bryan drew his wand and waved it in a dramatic arc, and instantly, all the candles except those within the carved pumpkinnterns were extinguished.

    The Great Hall was plunged into a state of semi-darkness, the sudden dimming eliciting a collective gasp from the students. In this new, shadowy environment, the Goblet of Fire stood out even more starkly, its blue-white mes casting an otherworldly glow over the scene.

    Every eye in the hall was now fixed upon the Goblet, watching for the slightest change in its ethereal fire. Students leaned forward in their seats, some gripping the edges of the tables so tightly their knuckles turned white. Even the usuallyposed staff members seemed to be holding their breath in anticipation.

    Bryan took up his position beside the Goblet of Fire, his tall figure casting a long shadow in its flickering light. His eyes swept over the sea of faces before him, taking in the numerous expressions of hope, fear, and excitement.

    He noted how even the most talkative students had fallen silent, their usual chatter reced by the barest whisper of anxious breathing. Even Fleur Dcour, who had exuded confidence while talking about bing the champion in his office, now sat with her back straight, and her facial features tight with nervous anticipation.

    The silence in the hall was so clear that when a voice suddenly called out, "It''sing!", the words seemed to explode in the air, causing several students to jump in their seats.

    Bryan, who had already sensed the change in the Goblet''s energy, smoothly shifted his gaze to the mes, which were now turning a deep, pulsing red. With ease, he reached out his hand, the gesture drawing everyone''s attention away from the crackling sparks that had begun to fly from the Goblet''s rim.

    "The Durmstrang champion is¡ª" Bryan''s voice rang out clear and strong, building the suspense for one final moment before he unfolded the parchment that had materialized in his hand. A slight smile appeared across his lips as he read the name, and then, in a voice that seemed to fill every corner of the vast hall, he announced, <strong>"Viktor Krum!"</strong>

    The tension that had been building all evening was released in a single, explosive moment of jubtion. Every voice in the hall seemed to rise in unison, creating a wall of sound that was almost physical in its intensity.

    Except for the few Durmstrang boys who weren''t chosen, every young wizard was shouting with all their might, even though they might not have known exactly what they were so happy about!

    At the Gryffindor table, Ron''s voice could be heard above the noise, his face flushed with excitement as he shouted in approval, "Not at all surprising!"

    Beside him, Hermione, following Harry''s lead, had risen to her feet, adding her own cheers to the noise. While she didn''t share Ron and Harry''s fanatical admiration for Krum, she couldn''t help but feel a surge of approval.

    On the night of the Quidditch World Cup final, before Professor Watson arrived, it was Krum who had epted her request and brought Mr. Weasley to the box to help. In that perilous situation, Krum''s willingness to risk himself for a group of strangers was enough to prove his kindness and courage.

    From the staff table, Professor Karkaroff''s voice boomed out like a bell, easily audible even over the thunderous apuse. "Bravo, Viktor!" he roared, his face split by a triumphant grin. "I knew you were destined to be the champion!"

    In stark contrast to the excitement around him, Viktor Krum himself seemed almost unaffected by his selection. He rose from his seat beside Draco with a kind of lethargic grace, as he made his way towards the chamber Bryan had indicated. Only when passing by Bryan did he respectfully nod his head, which Bryan returned with a smile.

    This young man was much more likable than Karkaroff.

    As Krum disappeared into the side chamber, the apuse gradually began to subside. Like a tide receding from the shore, the excitement in the hall receded, reced once more by that electric anticipation as all eyes returned to the Goblet of Fire.

    Bryan deftly caught the second piece of parchment as it was ejected from the once again reddening mes.

    Even before he unfolded the slip, Bryan knew whose name would be written upon it because this particr piece of parchment had been torn from his own notebook.

    "The Beauxbatons champion,"

    In the instant their eyes met, Fleur confirmed whose name was about to resound through the Hall.

    "is Fleur Dcour!"

    And sure enough, her name was uttered from the lips of the man she admired.

    Once again, the hall erupted in apuse, though this time there was a noticeable difference in its tone.

    Just like before, except for the Beauxbatons students who weren''t chosen, many Hogwarts students once again apuded enthusiastically for Fleur, while many of the male students cheered with perhaps more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, the apuse from the female poption was noticeably more subdued, tinged with a hint of jealousy and resentment.

    Fleur rose from her seat with, her silvery hair catching the light as she tossed it over her shoulder. As she glided past Bryan, she slowed her pace slightly, her radiant smile directed solely at him. "Thank you--"

    "I wish you the very best of luck, Miss Dcour¡ª" Bryan nodded, smiling gentlemanly.

    As Fleur followed in Krum''s footsteps towards the side chamber, the hall once again fell into an anticipatory hush.

    The atmosphere in the Great Hall reached new heights of tension as the moment approached for the selection of Hogwarts'' champion. Even the usuallyposed heads of houses were unable to maintain their typical air of detached observation. Their eyes, like everyone else''s, were fixed on the third piece of parchment now resting in Bryan''s hand.

    Among the students, the atmosphere was even more charged. Many sat with their fists clenched so tightly that their knuckles had turned white, and their bodies were stiff with tension. They resembled gamblers waiting for the final card to be revealed after betting their entire fortune on a single hand.

    Bryan was well aware of the swelling tension, and knew that to prolong this moment of suspense would be to invite the resentment of everyone present.

    He smoothly unfolded the parchment. As the name written there came into view, a genuine smile spread across his face, reaching all the way to his eyes.

    "Well then--" Bryan''s gaze swept across the hall,ing to rest on the Hufflepuff table, where a slender, upright young man sat, his handsome face showing hopeful anticipation. "You can cheer for Mr. Cedric Diggory!"

    At the Gryffindor table, Angelina Johnson''s disappointed sigh waspletely drowned out by Ron''s protests, which in turn were rendered inaudible by the explosive celebration erupting from the Hufflepuff table. Every single Hufflepuff student seemed to have leapt to their feet as one, theirbined voices creating a wall of joyous noise.

    Harry watched as his ssmates from Professor Watson''s Physical Education ss - Hannah, Ernie, Justin, Susan, Megan, and others - abandoned all pretense of decorum and rushed to surround Cedric. Their faces were lit with pride and excitement as they cheered for their housemate.

    Honestly, for a moment, Harry felt a twinge of envy. He had experienced such adoration only once before, when he had led Gryffindor to win championship in the previous year''s Quidditch final against Malfoy and the Slytherin team.

    Almost instinctively, Harry''s gaze drifted towards the Slytherin table, seeking out Malfoy and his cronies. As expected, their faces were twisted with disdain, eyeing Cedric as if he were nothing more than a lucky fool who had stumbled into undeserved glory.

    The sight of their bitter jealousy lifted Harry''s spirits considerably. A smile spread across his face as he joined in the apuse with renewed vigor. After all, Cedric would soon be representing not just Hufflepuff, but all of Hogwarts in the tournament. Moreover, he was a fellow student in Professor Watson''s Physical Education ss.

    At the center of this storm of celebration, Cedric appeared somewhat dazed. Despite having dreamed of this moment for so long, now that it had finally arrived, he seemed at a loss.

    His eyes, wide with disbelief and joy, darted over the sea of faces before him, eventuallynding on the Ravenw table. There, he locked gazes with a beautiful girl whose cheeks were flushed pink with excitement, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him with undisguised admiration. The sight caused Cedric''s heart to skip a beat, and his handsome face flushed an even deeper shade of red.

    At the staff table, the reactions were equally varied. Professor McGonagall''s initial sh of disappointmentsted barely a second before she turned to congratte the overjoyed Professor Sprout. "Oh, congrattions, Pomona!"

    The other staff members quickly followed suit, offering their own congrattions to the beaming Head of Hufflepuff.

    In the midst of this jubnt chaos, only two figures managed to maintain theirposure: Albus Dumbledore and Bryan Watson. Their calm demeanors stood out in stark contrast to the excitement swirling around them, like the eye of a storm.

    "Excellent¡ª" Bryan''s voice, magically amplified, cut through the noise of the hall. He cast a discreet nce towards Harry, noting with approval his enthusiastic apuse for Cedric.

    Turning back to address the entire hall, Bryan continued, his tone pleasant but authoritative. "Now that we have our three champions, I know each of you will offer your unwavering support to your school''s representative, and I have every confidence that these three exceptional young people will bring honor to their¡ª"

    But his words were suddenly cut short by a sound that seemed to freeze the very air in the hall.

    <strong>Crack¡ª</strong>

    It was as if someone had cast a powerful Silencing Charm over the entire gathering. The abrupt quiet was almost painful in its intensity as every eye in the room turned once more to the Goblet of Fire. To everyone''s astonishment, the magical artifact had once again erupted into mes.

    A long tongue of me shot into the air, bearing another piece of parchment. The sight elicited a collective gasp from the gathered students and staff.

    Harry observed with growing unease that the expression of surprise on Professor Watson''s face mirrored that of everyone else in the hall. His hand shot out, catching the parchment before it could flutter to the ground.

    As Bryan raised the slip of parchment, his brow furrowed in concentration, the entire hall seemed to hold its breath. The silence was so clear that the rustle of the parchment as he unfolded it sounded unnaturally loud.

    But when Professor Watson''s eyes fell upon the name written there, all of his surprise vanished in an instant. Instead of immediately announcing the name, Bryan turned towards the staff table causing the young wizards to lose the chance to observe his expression.

    Bryan looked directly into Dumbledore''s piercing blue eyes. In the prolonged silence, the gazes of these two men, the focus of everyone''s attention, met in mid-air.

    More than one person found themselves thinking that this silence felt incredibly, unbearably long.

    Finally, Professor Dumbledore seemed to receive the message Professor Watson was conveying. He blinked his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles, as he leaned back in his chair, his posture rxing from its previously tense state.

    Professor Watson turned his head back. In the blue-white firelight, his face was pale yet calm.

    Professor Watson once again raised the fourth piece of parchment he had retrieved from the Goblet of Fire, and in the next second, a name resounded through the Hall.

    "Hermione Granger."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0520 Not Me

    0520 Not Me

    Hermione sat there, realizing that everyone in the Great Hall had turned to look at her. Of course, this wasn''t entirely urate; she wasn''t unanimously known throughout the school, and there were quite a few students, particrly in other years, who had no idea who Hermione Granger was. But after a bout of whispered inquiries and pointed fingers, their gazes quickly found her by anchoring on the unmistakable figure of the famous Harry Potter seated beside her.

    Hermione sat there, stunned into immobility. Her mouth hung slightly open, brown eyes now clouded with confusion and fear. Her thin frame trembled under the gaze of countless people, as if just waking from a deep sleep, when consciousness couldn''t fully control the body yet.

    The usual eruption of apuse that had followed the announcement of the other champions was conspicuously absent. Instead, a low, growing buzzing began to spread through the hall, simr to a swarm of angry bees.

    Some students, driven by curiosity or disbelief, even stood up from their seats, craning their necks to get a better look at the girl who had inexplicably be the fourth Triwizard champion. Through it all, Hermione remained frozen in her seat, as if she had been hit by a Petrificus Totalus charm.

    At the high table, the staff''s reactions were equally dramatic.

    Professor McGonagall stood up from the high table and quickly walked to Professor Dumbledore''s side. Her face had turned ashen, the color draining from her cheeks as she leaned in close, whispering urgently into the Headmaster''s ear. Dumbledore listened intently, his long fingers steepled before him, his brow furrowing slightly as he processed this unexpected turn of events.

    Ludo Bagman and Karkaroff, reacting with confusion and indignation respectively, also rose from their seats. They seemed to think that Professor Watson had made some sort of an ill-timed joke. They hurried around the table, and rushed to his side. Upon reaching him, they craned their necks left and right, to stare at the slip of paper he still held in his hand.

    Time seemed to slow to an excruciating crawl, each second stretching out like hours in the atmosphere of mounting despair. Hermione''s trembling intensified, Yet, paradoxically, this physical manifestation of her distress seemed to allow her to regain some semnce of control over her movements.

    With agonizing slowness, she turned her head to look at Harry and Ron, her closest friends. Their reactions, she knew instinctively, would be the most important. Then, gathering her courage, she let her gaze sweep across every face at the Gryffindor table that was turned towards her. Suddenly, her eyes were filled with tears, turning the familiar faces of her housemates into watery, indistinct blurs.

    Harry''s face showed only bewilderment and confusion, his eyes wide behind his round sses, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as he struggled to process what had just happened. In a way, his obvious shock was afort for her- at least he didn''t seem angry or usatory.

    Ron''s reaction, however, was far more difficult to bear. Hermione had never seen him look so unfamiliar. His face was contorted into fury, every freckle standing out bluntly against his reddening skin. He now red at her with an intensity that made her flinch.

    And the others - Fred and George Weasley, their usual mischievous grins were reced by looks of utter disbelief; Ginny, her eyes were widened with shock - they were all looking at her as if they were seeing her for the first time, as if the Hermione they thought they knew had been reced by a stranger.

    Neville''s round face was pale with surprise; Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas both exchanged bewildered nces before turning back to stare at her; Alicia Spi and Katie Bell, their mouths were hanging open in identical expressions of shock - all of their eyes were full of confusion and disbelief.

    But what Hermione found most unbearable were the looks from Parvati, Lavender, and Angelina. Hermione''s gaze only lingered on their eyes for a moment before she had to look away, unable to bear the meaning in their stares.

    In those brief seconds, she saw resentment, disbelief, and worst of all, the clear conviction that she was nothing more than a lucky fool who had somehow cheated her way into glory.

    The weight of their judgment, the intense sense of betrayal emanating from her housemates, was too much to bear.

    "I didn''t¡ª" Hermione''s voice broke, a sob catching in her throat. The situation felt utterly desperate, spiraling out of control in a way she had never experienced before.

    In that moment of crushing despair, Hermione''s mind raced back to her first days at Hogwarts. She remembered vividly how she had maintained a facade of humility, studying to the point of exhaustion in an attempt to hide the deep-seated insecurity stemming from her Muggle background.

    Those early efforts had indeed earned her the favor of many professors and the unwilling respect of some ssmates, but the harsh truth was that most of her peers had either ignored her or even found her relentless pursuit of knowledge annoying. It had been Harry and Ron''s friendship, their eptance of her ways and their willingness to stand by her, that had rescued her from that initial state of bewildered helplessness.

    And now, in this moment of crisis, it seemed they were all she could rely on. The thought bothforted and terrified her - what if they, too, turned away?

    "I didn''t¡ª" Hermione repeated, her thin shoulders shaking violently with suppressed sobs. If they hadn''t been in the Great Hall, if she hadn''t been enduring the stares of so many people, Hermione might have broken downpletely, dissolving into a flood of tears.

    Just as she felt she might shatter under the pressure, a small miracle urred.

    Harry, his initial shock giving way to concern for Hermione, took a deep breath. His mind was still foggy with confusion, but his gaze towards her became firm and resolute. It was a look that said, without words, that he believed her, and that he would stand by her no matter what.

    And Ron, despite his initial anger, seemed to be wrestling with his emotions. His mouth twitched slightly, the angry lines between his brows softening, though his eyes still flickered with uncertainty.

    At the front of the hall, Karkaroff''s eyes bored into the slip of paper in Bryan''s hand, as if he could change its contents through sheer force of will.

    Bryan, maintaining hisposure in the face of the chaos around him, casually tossed the paper to Karkaroff. Then, he calmly stepped forward, his gaze sweeping across the sea of faces before settling on the back half of the Gryffindor table. His voice, magically amplified, cut through the low buzz as he repeated,

    "Hermione Granger,e. Go through that door."

    But, Hermione remained frozen, unable to make her body obey the instruction.

    "Go on¡ª" Harry''s voice was heavy with concern, tinged with a hint of annoyance - not at Hermione, but at the situation they found were in. He gently patted Hermione''s arm, the contact seeming to jolt her back to reality. Her body gave a violent shudder, as if Harry''s touch had been electrically charged.

    "Go quickly, Hermione¡ª" This urging came from Neville. The shock in his round eyes from earlier had disappeared, reced by genuine concern for her. This silent support from some people finally gave Hermione a bit of courage.

    With great effort, Hermione stood up, her movements shaky and uncertain. In her distress, she stepped on the hem of her robe, stumbling slightly. The small mishap seemed to symbolize her current state - off-bnce, vulnerable, struggling to maintain herposure.

    As she began her long walk to the front of the hall, Hermione still couldn''t bring herself to look at the people at the nearby Hufflepuff table. She could feel their resentment radiating towards her in waves. Although most of the Gryffindors were looking at her with shock,pared to the Hufflepuffs, their gazes could almost be considered gentle.

    Hermione knew why the Hufflepuffs were so hostile; their moment of sess, their rare chance to shine, had been snatched away in an instant. It wasn''t something that required much thought to understand their bitterness.

    Hermione walked along the aisle between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, feeling as if this path was exceptionally long, the high table seeming eternally out of reach. Each step felt like a massive effort, her legs heavy as if she were wading through thick mud. She could feel hundreds, if not thousands, of eyes fixed upon her, each gaze like a spotlight, hot and taxing.

    The buzzing of discussions grew louder, voices rising and falling in a cacophony of spection and disbelief. It seemed like a full hour had passed, though in reality it was only a minute or two, before she finally reached Professor Watson''s side.

    Gathering what little courage she had left, Hermione forced herself to look up at Professor Watson. He was the only one she felt she could bear to observe at this moment.

    To her immense relief, she found that he was indeed looking at her, but unlike her ssmates, there was no shock in his expression. This wasn''t entirely surprising; it seemed that nothing could ever truly catch Professor Watson off guard.

    Whatforted Hermione most was that he didn''t seem to view her as a deceitful young witch trying to cheat her way to glory. He looked at her just as he always did, his gaze was calm and reassuring. More than that, his eyes even held a hint of concern. At this moment, Hermione was particrly sensitive to catching such emotions.

    Perhaps it was this glimmer of concern that finally broke through Hermione''s fragileposure. Her wobbly steps suddenly halted, and she cried out, her voice dense with unshed tears, "It wasn''t me, Professor!"

    "It''s alright, Miss Granger¡ª" Bryan said softly, patting Hermione''s shoulder in a gesture of reassurance. Then, turning his head towards Professor McGonagall, who was standing beside Dumbledore with her hand over her mouth, looking utterly distressed, he spoke in a steady voice that showed none of the tension of the moment,

    "Professor McGonagall, I think Miss Granger needs some assistance. Would you mind apanying her to the small room first?"

    Professor McGonagall didn''t hesitate for a moment. She immediately left Dumbledore''s side, as she walked around the table and strode towards Hermione. For her part, Hermione had been bracing herself for a scolding. She knew how much Professor McGonagall cared about Gryffindor''s reputation, and the moment the Goblet of Fire had spit out her name, both Gryffindor and Hogwarts had been ced in an awkward and potentially embarrassing position.

    But when Professor McGonagall reached her, her words were unexpected in their gentleness. "Come along, Miss Granger," she said, putting an arm around Hermione''s shoulders. Her voice was softer and kinder than Hermione had ever heard it.

    With Professor McGonagall''s guidance, Hermione quickly disappeared from everyone''s sight, vanishing into the side room where the other champions waited. Bryan watched this young witch, who seemed destined to face trials beyond her years, walk away. Then, with a subtle shift in his demeanor, he turned to look at the staff table.

    Dumbledore had risen to his feet, his bright blue eyes meeting Bryan''s gaze. For a moment, a hint of coldness flickered in those usually twinkling orbs.

    Most of the staff at the table still couldn''t shake off their shock, though Professor Snape looked somewhat gleeful. Barty Crouch Sr., in stark contrast to the emotional turmoil around him, maintained his stern expression, as if what had just happened was of no concern to him whatsoever.

    A soft "crack", audible only to those near the staff table, drew Bryan''s attention to Madame Maxime. She was visibly struggling to contain her anger, her massive body was trembling with suppressed rage. The source of the sound became apparent as Bryan noticed the tabletop under her palm had cracked under the pressure of her grip.

    Turning back to face the sea of young, confused faces before him, Bryan gestured towards the Goblet of Fire. Its blue-white mes were gradually extinguishing, fading away as if the task had drained its magical energy.

    "As you have seen¡ª" Bryan''s voice carried easily across the hall, "The selection of champions hase to an end. Now, the Head Boy and Girl, and the prefects of each house, please lead your fellow students back to your dormitories promptly. I do not wish to see anyone wandering around the castle tonight, breaking school rules¡ª"

    His words were met with a surge of dissatisfied murmurs from the students. Many voices called out, demanding exnations, seeking answers to the unprecedented turn of events they had just witnessed but Bryan''s figure, standing before the staff table, seemed to suddenly grow taller, bing more imposing.

    A heavy pressure, apanied by a faint rolling thunder that seemed toe from everywhere and nowhere at once, swept out from him in all directions. The young witches and wizards fell silent one by one, their protests dying in their throats. Almost against their will, they began to rise from their seats, moving towards the entrance hall with an obedience that seemed born more of instinct than conscious decision.

    Even those closest to Bryan, Karkaroff, his face contorted in fury, and Bagman, who had been practically bouncing with bizarre excitement, both felt the full force of the pressure emanating from Bryan''s body. They shivered involuntarily, as if hit head-on by a particrly potent freezing charm.

    As thest of the students marched out of the Great Hall, Bryan turned his attention to the remaining staff members.

    "Come¡ª" Bryan beckoned to Professor Karkaroff and the relevant staff at the high table, saying calmly. "Let''s get this sorted out¡ª"

    With those words, Bryan turned and strode towards the side chamber where Hermione and the other champions waited.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0521 Debate

    0521 Debate

    The side chamber crackled with tension as Dumbledore and Bryan strode in, followed closely by a parade of agitated wizards and witches. Madame Maxime''s imposing figure ducked through the doorway. Karkaroff, his face a mask of barely contained fury, stalked in behind her, his cold eyes darting suspiciously around the room.

    The two high-ranking Ministry of Magic officials, Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman, entered next, with their contrasting demeanors - Crouch''s looked stern and rigid while Bagman was barely suppressing excitement.

    Snape glided in silently and Moody was thest to enter, his magical eye humming ceaselessly as it swept across the now-empty Great Hall before he closed the heavy oak door with a resounding thud.

    The portraits on the walls, which had been humming with whispered conversations and excited movements just moments ago, fell into an expectant silence as the group entered. Their upants leaned forward in their frames, eyes wide and ears straining, eager to witness how this bizarre situation would unfold. Each of the portrait upants silently hoped to be the first to spread the news to their other portrait friends throughout the castle.

    Bryan''s eyes immediately sought out Hermione, finding her still enveloped in Professor McGonagall''s embrace. Despite the roaring fire that dominated one wall of the chamber, its mes casting a warm, flickering light across the room, Hermione''s thin shoulders continued to tremble slightly.

    Fleur, Krum, and Cedric, the three champions, stood in a loose cluster near the firece. Their expressions showed that they had already been informed of the situation by Professor McGonagall.

    Bryan could detect the anger simmering beneath Fleur''s carefully controlled expression.

    The room was thick with tension, each person lost in their own thoughts and reactions to the unprecedented fourth champion. Yet, amidst this sea of concern and confusion, one face stood out starkly.

    Ludo Bagman, his face burning with intrigue, surveyed Hermione with an expression that bordered on excitement. His eyes gleamed with a calcting light that set him apart from the others. Bryan''s gaze flickered to Bagman, instantly recognizing the man''s ulterior motives.

    The tense silence was shattered by Fleur''s voice, high and clear, tinged with barely suppressed anger.

    "Madame Maxime!" She called out; her French ent bing more distinct in her agitation. She had expected an exnation from Bryan upon his entry, but he had just given her a cursory nce, which clearly stoked the mes of her indignation.

    With a dramatic toss of her silvery hair, Fleur strode towards her headmistress, her movements graceful even in her anger.

    "This professor told us that this little girl has somehow been chosen as a champion!"

    Professor McGonagall''s lips thinned to a barely visible line, her silence speaking volumes about her disapproval of Fleur''s tone and choice of words. Her arms tightened subtly around Hermione''s shoulders.

    Madame Maxime, responding to her student''s call, stretched herself up to her full, impressive height. Her massive form seemed to fill the room, her headdress brushing against the candle-filled chandelier that hung from the ceiling. When she spoke, her voice wasden with indignation and confusion. "What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbledore?"

    Madame Maxime''s piercing gaze flickered between Dumbledore and Watson before settling on the former, clearly identifying him as the ultimate authority in this situation. Karkaroff, however, made the opposite choice. With a cold smile that didn''t reach his eyes, he turned to Bryan. Yet, even as he addressed Bryan, Karkaroff carefully avoided direct eye contact, still unnerved by their earlier encounter outside at Great Hall.

    "I, too, would like an exnation, Watson," Karkaroff said, his voice dripping with false politeness as he moved towards a confused-looking Krum. "Since when has Hogwarts been allowed two champions? I must have missed that particr announcement ¨C unless, of course, this is yet another unteral decision of yours, Watson, just as you decided to Live broadcast the Triwizard Tournament to the public?"

    "It''s impossible¡ª" Bagman said with an inappropriately cheerful smile that seemed bizarrely out of ce in the tense atmosphere. "There has never been such a tradition, but I must say, in all fairness, that Bryan''s decision to broadcast the tournament live was a stroke of genius, wouldn''t you agree, Barty?"

    Barty Crouch, who had headed straight for the firece upon entering, stood with his back to the room, warming himself by the mes. The firelight cast deep shadows across his face, obscuring his expression. He responded to Ludo''s question with only a nomittal grunt.

    Madame Maxime, clearly frustrated by the curve the conversation had taken, interjected forcefully. "That is not the issue we are discussing!" Her voice boomed through the chamber, causing several portrait upants to flinch in their frames. "It ispletely uneptable for Hogwarts to have two champions. This is an insult to the principles of fairpetition!" Her massive hand gestured emphatically as she spoke. "Unless, of course, you withdraw this girl from the tournament immediately!"

    At these words, Hermione, still curled in Professor McGonagall''s protective embrace, bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. Her eyes, wide and pleading, sought out Professors Dumbledore and Watson.

    Bryan caught Hermione''s pleading gaze and understood immediately that she wasn''t asking for help to maintain her champion status, but rather the opposite.

    However, Bryan knew that he couldn''t give Hermione the response she desired.

    "I''m afraid that''s simply not possible, Madame¡ª" Bryan addressed Madame Maxime, though his words were clearly for everyone in the room.

    As he spoke, a subtle change came over him. Those closest to Bryan noticed that the pale purple of his eyes seemed to shift, as if two golden mes had reced his pupils. Simultaneously, the temperature in the room spiked dramatically, a suffocating heat that the firece alone couldn''t possibly ount for.

    Moody, standing vignt by the door, and Barty Crouch, still facing the firece, both unconsciously shifted their shoulders, as if trying to shrug off the oppressive warmth that had suddenly enveloped them.

    Bryan continued, "The magical bacsh from attempting to break the Goblet of Fire''s binding contract would enough to strip Miss Hermione Granger of her magical abilities entirely. I don''t believe anyone in this room has the right or authority to impose such a devastating punishment on an innocent student."

    At the mention of losing her magical abilities ¨C essentially being reduced to a Squib ¨C Hermione''s already pale face turned ashen. Her cheeks and lips, still bearing the traces of her earlier tears, now seemed empty of all color. She looked as if she might faint any moment.

    Karkaroff, his eyes growing colder with each passing moment, paid no heed to Hermione''s distress. "This is not our fault, Watson!"

    He turned deliberately to address Dumbledore instead, his voice dripping with usation. "As we understood it, Dumbledore, your Age Line was supposed to keep out underagepetitors. Had we known otherwise; we would certainly have brought more candidates from our own schools."

    Since entering the room, Dumbledore''s piercing blue gaze hadn''t left Hermione''s eyes. His look was intense, prating, as if he were examining her very soul through her tear-filled brown eyes. Karkaroff''s usation didn''t seem to faze him as he calmly asked, "You can be absolutely certain you did not put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Hermione?"

    Hermione, her voice trembling with emotion, responded immediately. "I didn''t, Professor Dumbledore!"

    She rarely had the opportunity to interact directly with Dumbledore, and thest time she had been in such close proximity to him was when he had hinted at her using the Time-Turner to go back and capture Peter Pettigrew.

    Even now, with her mind spinning from the events of the evening, Hermione didn''t understand why this had happened to her. But as her rationality slowly reasserted itself, she knew that only Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson could help clear her of suspicion. Her voice was still dense with emotion as she said, "I''ve been with Harry and Ron all day, Professor. I didn''t do it."

    Dumbledore pressed gently, his eyes never leaving hers. "Did you ask an older student to submit your name into the Goblet of Fire for you?"

    Hermione froze for a moment, her eyes widening as she realized for the first time that there could have been such a simple way to bypass Professor Dumbledore''s Age Line. The thought had never urred to her before this moment. But she quickly came to her senses, shaking her head vigorously at everyone in the room.

    Karkaroff, watching this exchange with growing impatience, sneered openly. "She''s obviously lying¡ª" he said, looking at Hermione with undisguised contempt.

    "If you knew Miss Granger well enough!" Professor McGonagall''s chest swelled with righteous indignation. In that moment, she no longer cared about maintaining the image of Hogwarts or Gryffindor. Her sole focus was on defending her student. Her fierce re was fixed on Professor Karkaroff as she continued, her voice trembling with controlled fury,

    "You would know that Miss Granger is the most exceptional young witch Gryffindor has seen in many years. She is intelligent, hardworking, and modest. Her grades are the best in her year. Every professor at Hogwarts who has taught her can vouch for her character, Professor Watson, and I personally have absolute confidence that Miss Granger is not lying!"

    Madame Maxime, who had been listening to this exchange with growing impatience, interjected. "That is entirely irrelevant¡ª" she said, her brow furrowed in frustration. Despite her words, however, she couldn''t help but nce at Hermione with a hint of surprise, clearly impressed by Professor McGonagall''s emotional defense.

    "Indeed" Karkaroff, seizing on Madame Maxime''s words, nodded curtly in her direction before turning back to Professor McGonagall. The cold smile he had been maintaining throughout the conversation had vanished, reced by open hostility.

    "Academic achievements prove nothing," He sneered. "Perhaps she obtained her impressive grades through the same means she used to be a champion ¨C through deception and trickery!"

    "Do you truly believe we are all such ipetent fools, Karkaroff?" To Bryan''s surprise, it was Snape who broke the tense silence. Leaning against the wall, his voice dripped withzy disdain, as he came to Hermione''s defense.

    Sensing that the situation was spiraling out of control, Bryan stepped forward once more.

    "I think we need to reach a consensus before we can discuss what happens next¡ª" He began, his gaze sweeping across the room. "The Goblet of Fire is an artifact of immense magical power, possessing sophisticated abilities of discernment and judgment. If Miss Granger had simply convinced an older student to submit her name, the Goblet would not have made such a fundamental error as to select four champions instead of three. Unless someone tampered with it.

    And I must point out, with all due respect, that at present within Hogwarts, only those of us gathered in this room would possess the magical knowledge and ability to interfere with the Goblet of Fire''s magic."

    Bryan''s gaze swept the room as he delivered the coup de grace: "Madame Maxime, Professor Karkaroff, surely you must agree that Hermione Granger, a fourth-year student, regardless of her academic achievements, doesn''t have the ability convince any of us to assist her in such a deception?"

    A heavy silence fell over the room as Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, and the three legitimate champions observed the Hogwarts staff members. Bryan''s argument was convincing, presenting a logical case that seemed to prove the innocence of the young witch who had been unexpectedly drawn into this situation.

    Hermione''s face finally regained some color, the faintest hint of pink returning to her cheeks. Her emotions had been on a rollercoaster ride since Karkaroff''s earlier assessment of her, but now she realized that she had finally been cleared of the shameful suspicion that had been hanging over her.

    The room''s upants seemed to be processing Bryan''s words, eaching to their own conclusions.

    It was clear that using Severus Snape of helping this "irritating little witch" cheat would be not only inappropriate but potentially dangerous. Moody, with his reputation and magical eye, was clearly not someone to be trifled with. And suggesting that Watson, Dumbledore, or the equally renowned Minerva McGonagall would help a student cheat in such a manner would make one seem not just usatory, but utterly insane.

    Karkaroff''s yellowish eyes darted around his sockets almost as quickly as Moody''s magical eye, his mind clearly racing as he sought a way out of the logical trap Bryan had set.

    After a moment of reluctant consideration, he turned to the two high-ranking officials from the British Ministry of Magic. His voice, which had been harsh and cold throughout the confrontation, suddenly shifted to an oily, fawning tone.

    "Mr. Crouch, Mr. Bagman," he began, his eyes narrowing as he addressed the two men. "You two are our... impartial judges. Surely you agree that this situation is extremely inappropriate, don''t you?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0522 Conclusion

    0522 Conclusion

    The tension in the room reached a fever pitch as Karkaroff threw his question to the two high-ranking officials from the British Ministry of Magic. Ludo Bagman, his face alight with barely contained excitement, seemed ready to burst with his eagerness to express his views. However, upon catching sight of Watson''s expressionless face, Bagman suddenly fell silent. He then cautiously looked towards Barty Crouch.

    Hermione immediately turned her gaze to Crouch, not expecting her fate to lie in the hands of this Ministry official she disliked.

    Barty Crouch stood just outside the circle of warm firelight with half his face hidden in shadow. He looked somewhat strange, the shadowed half making him appear much older, almost skeletal. Yet when he spoke, it was still as stiff as always.

    "Bryan is correct, Hermione Granger has no other choice, and we are bound by the ancient rules that govern this tournament. The stiptions regarding the Goblet of Fire are explicitly clear - any individual whose name emerges from its mes is magically bound topete, regardless of the circumstances."

    "Well, that settles it then!" Bagman eximed, his face splitting into a relieved smile as he turned eagerly toward Karkaroff and Madame Maxime. His expression showed that he believed the matter had been resolved as neatly as a well-executed Quidditch y, though the tension in the room said otherwise.

    Karkaroff seemed to have absorbed the essence of Crouch''s tone, but twisted it to suit his own purposes. His voice was no longer smooth and ingratiating, but became harsh and sharp. The smile that had been stered on his face throughout the confrontation vanished, reced by barely contained fury. Veins bulged on the back of his tightly clenched fist, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

    "If it must be so!" Karkaroff spat, his words dripping with venom. His cold and calcting eyes swept across the room before settling on Bryan. "Then we must proceed with the only logical solution! Bring forth the Goblet of Fire once more! We will continue adding names until each school has two championspeting. That is the only impartial resolution, Watson!"

    "I''m terribly sorry, Karkaroff," Bagman, caught off guard by this sudden shift in the conversation, looked distinctly ufortable. His eyes darted between Bryan and Dumbledore, seeking some indication of how to respond. When neither wizard immediately spoke, Bagman cleared his throat nervously and his words tumbled out awkwardly, like a student unsure of their answer. "But I''m afraid that''s simply not possible. The Goblet has already extinguished itself - it won''t reignite until the next tournament cycle begins..."

    A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire. Fleur, her silvery hair gleaming in the firelight, turned her piercing gaze towards Bryan. Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and frustration, clearly wanting to gauge his reaction to thistest development.

    Viktor Krum, his heavy brows furrowed in concentration, looked towards Hermione. He had formed a good impression of this witch from Hogwarts during their brief encounter on the night of the World Cup final. On the night of the World Cup final, she had dared to stand against dark wizards who were much more powerful than her in the box, which was enough to prove her bravery.

    Cedric as Hogwarts'' official champion, seemed somewhat lost in the chaos that had erupted around him. He stood slightly apart from the others, his expression showing a mixture of confusion and concern. It was clear that in the heat of the argument over Hermione''s unexpected selection, Cedric''s own position as champion had been nearly forgotten.

    Karkaroff, his face flushed with anger, broke the silence with a furious outburst. "Then mark my words - Durmstrang will withdraw from all future tournaments!!" he roared, his voice rising to a near-shout. "We''ve had so many meetings, Watson, after all those negotiation andpromises, I never expected something like this to happen! I''m half inclined to leave right this instant!"

    "The gates of Hogwarts are always open, Karkaroff. You''re wee to leave at any time, but your champion must stay¡ª" Bryan said coldly, "Just as I cannot stand idly by while Miss Granger risks being reduced to a Squib by the Goblet''s contract bacsh, the same protection extends to Mr. Krum."

    Karkaroff''s face, already flushed with anger, turned an even deeper shade of red. He stared hard at Bryan; his yellowed teeth bared in a snarl of frustration. When he spoke, his words came out in a hiss, dripping with barely contained rage. "You''re threatening me, Watson! I swear by all that''s magical, I will file a formalint with the Confederation. Don''t think your position as Vice President will shield you from the consequences of your professional failures!"

    The tension in the room reached a breaking point, only to be shattered by a new voice that roared from the doorway, apanied by the distinctive sound of a wooden leg striking the stone.

    "Empty threats, Karkaroff!" Moody''s gruff voice cut through the tension. He limped towards Karkaroff, his magical eye whirling in its socket as he fixed both of his eyes on him. "You won''t abandon this tournament, and we all know it! I''ve been listening to you whine as if you''re the biggest victim in this affair, while the true victim hasn''t uttered a single word in her own defense!"

    Moody''s wooden leg made a loud, rhythmic thunking noise with each step as he approached. Karkaroff, faced with Moody''s intimidating approach, instinctively took a step back. Then, realizing that all eyes were upon him, he forced himself to step forward again, his face showing anger.

    "I''m afraid I can''t understand what you mean¡ª" Karkaroff said, trying to muster his dignity. "Aren''t Durmstrang and Beauxbatons victims? And who is this ''true victim'' you speak of?"

    "Oh, I know precisely what thoughts lurk in that head of yours!" Moody''s voice boomed through the chamber. "You still cling to the suspicion that someone from Hogwarts deliberately nted Hermione Granger''s name in the Goblet of Fire, hoping to double their chances of victory!"

    Madame Maxime, who had been watching the exchange with growing impatience, finally interjected. "Isn''t that the case?" she said irritably, tilting her massive chin up.

    Moody showed unexpected restraint in addressing Madame Maxime''s interruption, though his contempt for the argument was palpable in his voice.

    "Everyone in this room knows full well that Miss Hermione Granger is just an underage witch. If someone truly intended to give Hogwarts an additional advantage, why would they choose someone who appears to have such slim chances of victory?"

    Moody''s mismatched eyes both normal and magical, were fixed on Karkaroff with intensity. His scarred face twisted into a terrible smile that made several people in the room shift ufortably. When Moody spoke again, his voice had taken on a dangerous edge.

    "In my view, there are only two possibilities. Either the perpetrator who did this has a deep grudge against Miss Granger and wants her to die in these tasks, or..." He paused, letting the tension build before continuing, "Miss Granger is just an innocent person caught up in this. The true target is Hogwarts itself¡ª someone wants to see us embroiled in scandal and controversy. After all, what could be more damaging to Hogwarts'' reputation than having two champions, only to see one perish in the tournament?"

    The blunt assessment sent a chill through the room. Hermione felt her scalp tingle with fear, and she was aware of Professor McGonagall''s grip on her arm tightening protectively. McGonagall''s face, illuminated by the flickering firelight, was etched with worry as she turned towards Dumbledore and Bryan.

    "Albus, Bryan, should we¡ª" McGonagall began, her voice tight with concern. "Think of alternative methods to safely remove Hermione from the champion''s position?"

    Karkaroff had clearly understood what Moody was implying. He was prepared to refute loudly, but McGonagall''s words made him quiet for a moment. If there really was a way to get this annoying girl who was obviously a Mudblood out of the tournament, that would be best.

    "There might be a way¡ª" It was Dumbledore who broke this tense silence, his words sending a shock through the group.

    Was there really a method to release Granger from her champion status without destroying her magical abilities? If so, what had they been arguing about all this time? Had Dumbledore simply been observing their arguments with silent amusement?

    Even Bryan''s brow moved imperceptibly.

    "If we can reach unanimous agreement to destroy the Goblet of Fire," Dumbledore continued calmly, "then the magical contract''s bacsh would cease to exist. Miss Granger could safely withdraw from the tournament tasks, while we can recognize the legitimacy of the other three champions."

    Dumbledore''s eyes settled calmly on Bryan as he finished speaking.

    Bryan''s eyelid twitched and he understood Dumbledore''s meaning.

    Destroy the Goblet of Fire- one of the most ancient and powerful magical artifacts in existence?

    The very idea seemed outrageous. Karkaroff, who had been the most vocal throughout the evening, fell into a stunned silence. In his mind, he thought Dumbledore must surely be joking. The Goblet of Fire was not just an extremely valuable magical artifact, but a historical relic of immense significance. Neither the Ministry of Magic nor the International Confederation of Wizards would ever agree to its destruction. And yet, if Dumbledore were to insist...

    Moody''s magical eye, which had been whirling ceaselessly throughout the confrontation, seemed to freeze in its socket at Dumbledore''s unexpected proposal. He had never imagined that his spection would lead to such a drastic suggestion.

    The tense silence was broken by Barty Crouch, who straightened his hunched body for the first time that evening. His voice, when he spoke, was sharp and authoritative. "I absolutely forbid it¡ª" He didn''t look at Dumbledore, but instead stepped out of the firelight and stared at Karkaroff with a frightening gaze.

    "The Goblet of Fire is a precious artifact that has been passed down for many centuries. I will not permit its destruction the first time it has fulfilled its purpose in generations. The Ministry of Magic absolutely and explicitly rejects this proposal!"

    Karkaroff was frightened by Crouch''s gaze. He was full of grievances, his lips quivering a few times, seemingly trying to exin that he wasn''t the one who proposed the idea.

    Crouch, his voice brooking no argument, continued. "If you think it''s unfair, Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, then we''ll all agree that Hogwarts'' final score in thepetition will be the average of Cedric Diggory and Hermione Granger''s individual scores. That''s the final solution, and everyone must participate in thepetition!"

    "Following your own logic, Karkaroff," Moody interjected with a wickedly triumphant smile, "it''s actually Dumbledore who should be raising objections now, isn''t it? No one would reasonably expect an underage witch to excel in thispetition. Hogwarts now bears the burden of apetitor who will be dragging them down in the overall standing!"

    <em>''Dragging them down''</em>... Even though Hermione''s heart was filled with so many worries right now, she still found a moment to be angry at Professor Moody''s words.

    After Crouch''s deration and Moody''s pointed observation, Dumbledore and Bryan''s gazes met briefly, before they looked away.

    Bryan, his voice calm and measured, broke the tense silence. "Hogwarts has no objections¡ª"

    "Excellent!" Bagman eximed; his cheerfulness seemingly immune to the room''s tense atmosphere. "Now, how shall we exin this situation to the public?"

    Bryan''s response was swift and decisive. "New rules for the Triwizard Tournament¡ª" he said, casting a brief nce at Bagman. "The host school can have two champions."

    His gaze then shifted to Karkaroff, whose face was once again flushing with anger.

    "This condition can be retained as a precedent, Professor Karkaroff," Bryan added with just a hint of sarcastic humor. "I hope this will keep your fighting spirit high when its time to determine the host of the next Triwizard Tournament¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0523 Clues

    0523 Clues

    The tension in the room seemed to crystallize around Barty Crouch as he delivered the necessary warnings ording to the tournament rules.

    "The first task is designed to test your courage," Crouch began, his eyes sweeping across the faces of the champions, lingering for a moment on Hermione''s pale face, "so we won''t tell you what it is. Facing the unknown is perhaps the most fundamental quality essential for a true wizard. In this challenge, you must rely solely upon yourselves¡ªno guidance, no assistance, no support from your teachers will be permitted. Your wand will be your onlypanion and weapon in what lies ahead.

    And you''ll only learn about the second task after the first one ispleted."

    Crouch concluded, his stern demeanor brooking no argument and with these ominous warnings delivered ording to the ancient tournament protocols, the evening''s turmoil seemed to havee to an end.

    Many of those present felt there was no need to linger any longer. Barty Crouch wasted no time in making his exit. With a curt nod to Dumbledore and ast, inscrutable nce at Hermione, he strode to the room''s firece. In a sh of green mes, he was gone, leaving behind only the faintest scent of ash and magic.

    Ludo Bagman, in contrast to Crouch''s hasty departure, chose to remain at Hogwarts and his face was lit with barely contained excitement for some reason. Dumbledore asked Snape to show Bagman to his quarters. Snape''s face twisted into a barely concealed grimace at the task, but he obeyed with a stiff nod.

    Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, their faces still etched with lingering frustration, had already departed with their respective champions, Viktor and Fleur in tow. The two young champions, however, seemed reluctant to leave without a final word. Their eyes darted between Hermione and Bryan, clearly brimming with unspoken questions and concerns. But their headmasters, perhaps fearing furtherplications, hurried them along, effectively shepherding the students out of the room.

    In stark contrast to the swift departure of the other schools'' representatives, Hogwarts'' two champions found themselves left behind, caught in the trail of the evening''s tumultuous events.

    Professor McGonagall, her face lined with concern, turned to Dumbledore and Bryan and said,

    "If there''s nothing else, I''ll escort Miss Granger back to her dormitory, after everything that''s happened tonight, she needs rest." Thest part was said with a pointed look at Hermione, who seemed to be swaying slightly on her feet.

    Just as McGonagall was about to usher Hermione out, Bryan''s voice cut through the air.

    "Wait¡ª" he said, his brow furrowing in thought. After a moment of contemtion, he looked up at Professor McGonagall. "If it''s convenient, Professor McGonagall, after you''ve escorted Miss Granger back to hermon room, please disclose some of the conclusions we''ve reached tonight to the students who are undoubtedly waiting for the news. Though, I would suggest limiting the information to only the most essential details."

    McGonagall raised an eyebrow, her stern facial features softening slightly at Bryan''s thoughtfulness. She understood the delicate bnce they were trying to maintain - providing enough information to quell rumors while not revealing too much. Hermione, catching on to Professor Watson''s intention, pressed her lips together gratefully.

    As McGonagall and Hermione left, the room''s upants dwindled to Dumbledore, Bryan, Professor Moody, and Cedric Diggory - if he hadn''t already slipped away unnoticed in themotion.

    In truth, Cedric might have been the most frustrated person of the evening. While everyone''s focus had been on thepromised rights of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions or the mystery surrounding Hermione Granger''s unexpected selection, Cedric had beenpletely sidelined. He stood awkwardly to one side, his face showing a mixture of confusion and disappointment.

    Dumbledore noticed Cedric''s difort. With a gentle smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes, he addressed the young man.

    "Cedric, I suggest you go and rest as well¡ª" he said, his voice warm and encouraging. "I believe Professor Sprout and your Hufflepuff ssmates are waiting to celebrate with you. It would be rather unfortunate to deprive them of this rare opportunity for celebration."

    Bryan, catching Dumbledore''s cue, also turned to Cedric with an approving smile. Their acknowledgment seemed to breathe new life into Cedric, finally making him feel a bit more like the champion he was meant to be. With a respectful nod to the assembled professors, Cedric straightened his shoulders and left the room, his steps lighter than they had been all evening.

    As soon as the door closed behind Cedric, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically. Moody, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during thetter part of the evening, suddenly exploded into action. His magical eye whirled in its socket, he mmed his gnarled staff against the floor with the sound echoing like a gunshot in the now-quiet room.

    "Karkaroff, that spineless coward!" Moody roared, his scarred face twisting with fury. "I''d bet my other leg he''s behind this whole mess¡ª he''s always resented Bryan for winning the right to host the Tournament. He''s been plotting revenge, trying to cause trouble for Hogwarts."

    Moody''s normal eye narrowed as he continued, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. "I can see right through him. Surely you haven''t forgotten how he escaped punishment back then, framing others for his misdeeds."

    "stor¡ª" Dumbledore calmly called out, with no sign of anything unusual on his face.

    However, Moody was not to be so easily silenced. His magical eye fixed on Dumbledore as he continued his tirade. "If you''d let me search that ship, Albus, just wait, I guarantee we''d find something!"

    Bryan, who had settled himself onto one of the room''sfortable sofas; with a barely audible sigh, gave Moody a meaningful look. "I understand your determination to clear Hogwarts'' name, Professor Moody, But Karkaroff is the headmaster of Durmstrang, not a young wizard like Draco Malfoy. Without concrete evidence, we cannot justify taking such extreme measures against him¡ª"

    Moody''s response was a sarcasticugh that echoed off the stone walls of the chamber. It was clear he found Bryan''s argumentcking.

    "I''ll keep watch on him, mark my words!" Moody growled, punctuating his words with another loud bang of his staff against the floor. With that final deration, he turned and limped out of the room, his wooden leg creating a rhythmic thudding that faded as he moved down the corridor.

    He knew that Dumbledore and Bryan would want to summarize the night''s events, and since Dumbledore hadn''t invited him to stay, it meant he didn''t want him there. As for Watson, he certainly wouldn''t be willing to be honest with him.

    As the sound of Moody''s departure died away, a heavy silence fell over the room. Bryan''s gaze remained fixed on the door long after it had closed, his expression iprehensible. Dumbledore, too, maintained his silence, gazing at the firece through which Barty Crouch had departed, allowing the flickering mes to tint his bright blue eyes golden.

    The two wizards remained as still as statues, each lost in their own thoughts, until the sound of approaching footsteps broke the spell. The door creaked open, revealing the sallow face of Professor Snape. He peered into the room cautiously, only fully entering after confirming that Dumbledore and Bryan were still present.

    "I''ve shown Bagman to his quarters," Snape reported, his voice as silky and cold as ever. He remained standing in the doorway, his ck robes blending with the shadows as if he were a part of them.

    Dumbledore''s face brightened at Snape''s words.

    "Ah, excellent¡ª" he said, nodding appreciatively at him. Then, turning to Bryan, he added with a hint of amusement, "We really must thank Ludo for his support this evening. Did you notice, Bryan, that he was the only one who refrained from criticizing our handling of tonight''s... unexpected developments¡ª"

    "That man''s gambling addiction has thoroughly corrupted his sense of propriety¡ª" Bryan interjected casually, clearly catching Dumbledore''s subtle implications. "Naturally, he''s delighted by any unexpected turns of events. Suchplications only create more opportunities for him to profit from those questionable betting operations he patronizes¡ª"

    Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully at Bryan''s assessment, thenpsed into silence once more. Snape, still lurking in the doorway, fixed Dumbledore with a look of barely concealed sarcasm. After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke again with azy drawl.

    "I have a question, Dumbledore," Snape began, his dark eyes glittering in the firelight. "Would your Age Line be able to stop a wizard who''s taken Polyjuice Potion?"

    Bryan''s wandering gaze suddenly sharpened. He stared at Snape''s nonchnt face, noting that Dumbledore, too, had turned his full attention towards him. "Polyjuice Potion..." Bryan pondered aloud, his voice tinged with curiosity. "Why do you bring this up, Professor? Do you have any leads regarding tonight''s incident?"

    "You seem to ce an extraordinary amount of faith in that Granger girl from Minerva''s house¡ª" Snape''s voice remained soft but carried an edge of usation. "However, I''ve recently discovered evidence of an intruder in my officest night. Certain items from my private stores were taken¡ªspecifically, powdered Bicorn horn and shredded Boomng skin. The thief showed remarkable restraint, he wasn''t too greedy and stole only small quantities. But since thest time these particr ingredients went missing, I''ve been meticulously monitoring their quantities."

    "Are you suggesting, Severus, that Miss Granger might have used Polyjuice Potion again?" Dumbledore''s question came with his characteristic calm, though there was a slight emphasis on the word ''again'' that didn''t go unnoticed.

    Bryan''s initial confusion cleared as the implications of Snape''s words sank in. Like Dumbledore, he had initially thought Snape had uncovered some new clue about the night''s events. The mention of Polyjuice Potion, however, brought back a vivid memory¡ª Indeed, on the night he first returned to Hogwarts after graduation, he had seen Hermione in the hospital wing, suffering from the effects of incorrectly brewed Polyjuice Potion.

    Snape''s next words wereced with biting sarcasm. "If you''re determined to believe Granger is innocent, Dumbledore¡ª" he said, his lip curling slightly, "I suppose I could turn a blind eye to the matter, just as I did previously."

    Bryan couldn''t suppress his amusement at Snape''s thinly veiled usation. "By all means, Professor Snape, maintain that blind eye. And might I suggest relocating those particr ingredients to a more essible location? It would save any future visitors the trouble of having to demolish your office to get them¡ª"

    Dumbledore''s lips twitched at Bryan''s words, though he refrained frommenting. However, their collective reactions clearly revealed something.

    Snape''s eyes suddenly sharpened, his gaze boring into Bryan with renewed intensity. Recognizing that he would get nothing from Dumbledore, Snape focused his attention on his student. "You know who tampered with it," he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "You knew this would happen, didn''t you, Bryan? Tell me, who''s trying to harm that insufferably presumptuous girl?"

    Bryan met Snape''s probing gaze with a calm smile. "Are you attempting to test the effectiveness of your lumency teachings, Professor?

    I hope you''ll forgive my immodesty, but in this particr field, I believe I''ve not only mastered your teachings but perhaps even managed to advance beyond it¡ª"

    The conversation, filled withyers of meaning and unspoken usations, seemed to push Snape to his limit. Dealing with two individuals so adept at schemes and tricks was clearly exhausting, especially the smiling Bryan who was his own student. With a final, furious re, Snape turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, his ck robes billowing behind him like the wings of an angry bat.

    As the echo of Snape''s departing footsteps faded, Bryan''s amused grin also slowly faded. The events of the past twenty-four hours - the sleepless night, the constant vignce, and the emotional rollercoaster of the champion selection - had finally begun to take their toll. A hint of fatigue crept into his voice as he turned to address Dumbledore.

    "Share your thoughts, Headmaster Dumbledore¡ª" Bryan said, his tone now serious and direct. The yful banter of moments ago had vanished, reced by a focused intensity that spoke of the severity of their situation.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0524 Discussion

    0524 Discussion

    <strong>Crack! Pop!</strong>

    The crackling sound of magical energy filled the air as Dumbledore raised his wand, pointing it towards the firece. With a swift, fluid motion and a softly murmured incantation, the mes roared to life, casting a warm, golden glow across the room.

    As the fire settled into a steady ze, Dumbledore turned his attention to the portraits that lined the walls. With a gentle smile despite the seriousness of the situation, Dumbledore addressed them.

    "My dear friends, I must ask you to leave us for a moment. We have some matters to discuss in private." Despite the fact that the portraits were contractually bound to obey the current headmaster, Dumbledore still requested to them courteously.

    The portraits stirred, some grumbling good-naturedly while others nodded in understanding. One by one, they vacated their frames, leaving behind empty canvases that seemed to absorb the firelight, creating an illusion that made the room feelrger and more isted.

    With the room now truly private, Dumbledore settled himself into a plush armchair, his long silver beard gleaming in the firelight. His bright blue eyes, usually twinkling, now held a somber, thoughtful look as he gazed into the dancing mes.

    "In my opinion," Dumbledore began, his voice calm, as if the earlier shocking events had ceased to trouble him, "this wasn''t Tom''s idea."

    Bryan, who had been pacing near the window, paused at Dumbledore''s words. He turned to face him, his brow furrowed in thought.

    "You mean," he said, rubbing his temples, "like the unauthorized action at the Quidditch Cup, this wasn''t ordered by Voldemort, but rather another genius scheme conceived by Professor Moody?"

    His voice carried a hint of bitter sarcasm at the mention of ''genius.''

    Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his fingers intecing on his knee as he considered his response. His gaze drifted upwards, focusing on the borate chandelier that hung from the ceiling, its crystals catching and refracting the firelight in a mesmerizing disy.

    "I can''t give you a definitive answer, Bryan," Dumbledore said after a long moment of contemtion. His voice was tinged with a mixture of uncertainty and concern. "What I can tell you is that unless Tom has had aplete change of heart during his years of suffering, he wouldn''t have chosen Miss Granger.

    Hecks your keen and wise eye that can recognize Miss Granger''s extraordinary qualities. We all expected him to target Harry, which would align perfectly with Tom''s past behavior, unless¡ª"

    Here, Dumbledore paused, and turned to face Bryan directly. His blue eyes seemed to pierce through him, as if trying to convey a deeper meaning. "Something happened that made Tom feel he needed to alter his ns to avoid my discovering of his strategy to use Harry for his resurrection. Perhaps that''s why he was willing to listen to someone else''s suggestion."

    Bryan nodded slightly, his mind racing to process this new perspective. There weren''t many people in Voldemort''s inner circle now who could offer him advice, except for that foolish woman outside masquerading as stor Moody.

    "A reasonable deduction, Headmaster," Bryan said thoughtfully. "At the Quidditch World Cup, Cliodna wanted to deliver Harry to Voldemort before he returned to school, and caused quite amotion. This failed attempt might have made Voldemort think you would be more vignt, so he decided to conceal his true intentions more carefully." He paused, his brow furrowing deeper as he considered the next logical question. "The only question now is, why did Cliodna set her sights on Hermione Granger?"

    "I rather doubt it was Miss Granger''s outstanding academic performance that caught your friend''s attention," Dumbledore said with a gentle smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes. His long fingers absently stroked his silver beard as he spoke. "If Tom were making this decision himself, young Ron Weasley would have been the more obvious choice, given the long-standing connection between his family and Harry."

    "Which means," Bryan ignored Dumbledore''s jest, and said thoughtfully, "Cliodna must have seen something that made her believe Harry and Hermione''s rtionship was particrly close. Through Hermione, she could manipte events to ensure Harry would be entangled in the tournament, creating opportunities to take him away from under our very noses. And somehow, this reasoning was persuasive enough to convince Voldemort to alter his usual methods."

    As he spoke, Bryan''s brow furrowed even deeper, his mind delving into the possibilities. Before the school year began, Cliodna and Hermione''s only possible encounter should have been at the World Cup¡ªor had the woman used her old tricks and conducted a thorough investigation at Hermione''s home?

    Dumbledore, noticing Bryan''s intense concentration, gently intervened. "We can never uncover all truths through spection alone, Bryan," he said, his voice carrying a note of caution. Then, his expression grew more serious, a hint of worry creeping into his eyes. "What troubles me more deeply now is Miss Granger''s position in all this, Bryan. Do you think we should maintain our original stance?"

    Bryan raised an eyebrow at Dumbledore''s question. The hesitation in Dumbledore''s voice surprised him¡ªit was rare to see the headmaster disy such uncertainty. Yet as he pondered the situation more deeply, he found himself understanding the source of Dumbledore''s uncharacteristic uncertainty.

    When it came to facing Voldemort, Harry and Hermione were vastly different. Hermione''s blood didn''t carry the protection Lily Evans had built with her life, her soul didn''t harbor a fragment of Voldemort''s soul, and shecked the ancient magic Dumbledore had ced on Harry as a precaution years ago.

    She was brilliant and strong-willed, but she wasn''t ''special'' like Harry in the ways that mattered.

    Dumbledore and Bryan could let Harry face Voldemort with rtive peace of mind, knowing Voldemort couldn''t kill him now. But Hermione... Without any protection, Hermione couldn''t possibly survive an encounter with Voldemort.

    They had tacitly allowed Voldemort''s resurrection seeing it as a necessary evil to ensure his final andplete destruction, but to let Hermione be the first casualty in the brutal war that would follow Voldemort''s return¡ªneither Dumbledore nor Bryan could ept that. Even if war demanded sacrifices, they couldn''t ept deliberately sending an underage witch to her death.

    The current difficulty was that, with their tacit approval, Hermione had already entered into a contract with the Goblet of Fire. And this was now a real mess.

    Suddenly, Bryan''s eyelids flickered as a memory he had kept buried surfaced in his mind. This recollection not only provided a new perspective on their current dilemma but also confirmed some of his suspicions.

    With newborn conviction, Bryan stated, "I believe Miss Granger won''t face mortal danger in the uing series of events. I think the risks are still controble."

    A strange light flickered in Dumbledore''s eyes as he looked at Bryan with slight surprise. He could sense that the hesitation that had surrounded Bryan moments ago had vanished, reced by a calm certainty that was both reassuring and intriguing.

    "What makes you so certain, Bryan?" Dumbledore asked, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and concern. "I''m sure you understand we''re discussing a student''s life here."

    Bryan met Dumbledore''s gaze steadily.

    "I''m confident, Headmaster," he said, his voice calm and resolute. The subtle ripples in his eyes sparked many thoughts in Dumbledore''s mind. "I will ensure that Hermione Granger, and all the champions, will not face mortal danger."

    With these words, Bryan stood up, signaling his readiness to end the discussion.

    Dumbledore, however, wasn''t quite ready to let the matter rest. As Bryan turned to leave, he asked onest question, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity. "You still won''t tell me about how you came to know that remarkabledy, Bryan?"

    Bryan paused mid-step, but didn''t turn around. For a moment, he was transported back to July of the previous year.

    What surfaced in his mind wasn''t his first encounter with Cliodna at the orphanage, but rather their journey to Stonehenge. He recalled vividly what he had seen in the Mirror of Erised¡ªthe gateway to Stonehenge¡ªa little girl standing in the rain amidst the ruins of past happiness, crying.

    Shaking off the recollection, Bryan responded without turning around. "It''s not a particrly fascinating story worth sharing, Headmaster," But before Dumbledore could show his disappointment, he added, "When the time is right, I''ll share some of it with you."

    With those words, Bryan left the room, leaving Dumbledore alone in the office.

    <strong>In the Student Safety Office.</strong>

    The room was bathed in a reddish glow, cast by the smoldering pine wood in the firece. Outside, the winter wind howled relentlessly, its fury echoing through the ancient stones of the castle. In the Forbidden Forest, countless trees swayed their branches wildly, moving like surging waves in a storm-tossed sea.

    Bryany on his bed, arms folded behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and concerns. The events of the day yed out before his mind''s eye in a ceaseless loop: Hermione Granger bing an unexpected champion, the controlled Barty Crouch acting out his part, Cliodna scurrying around under Moody''s identity.

    He thought of Remus''s progress in his secret mission, of Sirius''s delicate situation at the Ministry, of Voldemort''s approaching footsteps growing ever louder. And looming over it all, the inevitable sh of approaches between himself and Dumbledore once the war began in earnest.

    And there was something he still couldn''t understand¡ªwhy had Herpo''s Staff, which he had narrowly missed obtaining on Avalon Ind, led Cliodna to join Voldemort?

    As these thoughts swirled in his mind, Bryan felt an almost overwhelming impulse rise within him. He imagined rushing to Moody''s office right now, subduing Cliodna, and forcing her to answer his myriad questions. The urge was so strong, so instinctual, that when Bryan came to his senses, he found he had unconsciously gripped his wand turning his knuckles white with tension.

    Logic and reason ultimately prevailed over emotional impulse. He knew all too well how cautious that woman was¡ªher disguises and defenses extended to the very level of her soul. The idea of forcibly controlling and interrogating her, then erasing her memory, was likely impossible.

    As this realization settled over him, Bryan felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders like a physical burden. And with it came a profound sense of loneliness, the kind thates from being at the top, from knowing things others couldn''tprehend.

    He thought back to his time as a student at Hogwarts, when Professor Snape''s protection, both obvious and subtle, had been one of his sources of confidence and security. Now, the tables had turned. He was the one providing shelter to others, with no one truly qualified to shelter him¡ªnot even Dumbledore.

    "Sleep," Bryan murmured to himself, his voice barely audible above the howling wind outside. With a soft sigh, he turned over to face the boundless darkness beyond the window. As he closed his eyes, allowing the exhaustion of the day to finally im him, Bryan drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0525 Concerns & Joy

    0525 Concerns & Joy

    As the Triwizard Champions were finally determined, the much-anticipatedpetition was about to officially begin. Under normal circumstances, Hogwarts Castle should have been brimming with an atmosphere of unbridled jubtion. However, the recent unexpected turn of events had cast a cloud of uncertainty over the proceedings, making everything unpredictable.

    Apanied by Professor McGonagall, Hermione ascended the stone staircase that led to Gryffindor Tower. Each step felt heavier than thest, as if the weight of her newfound status as an unexpected champion was physically dragging at her feet.

    As they climbed, Hermione could feel the weight of countless eyes upon her. The portraits on the walls, normally content to doze or chat quietly amongst themselves, were now very lively. They pointed and whispered as she passed, their hushed conversations creating a soft buzz that seemed to follow in her trail.

    Hermione tried to reassure herself that their discussions weren''t malicious; these portraits simply treated her situation as a noteworthy juicy piece of gossip and an excellent excuse for them to gather in each other''s frames. Still, the constant murmuring and furtive nces did little to ease the knot of anxiety in her stomach.

    As they approached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, Hermione''s steps became increasingly hesitant. It was only now, standing on the threshold of her house''s entrance, that she realized the true extent of whaty ahead.

    She had thought facing the questioning gazes of so many Wizarding world''s dignitaries in that room behind the Great Hall was frightening enough. But now, Hermione came to the scary realization that what she was about to face ¨C the reactions and judgments of her peers, her friends, her housemates ¨C was even more terrifying.

    Perhaps sensing her growing unease, Hermione felt Professor McGonagall''s hand on her shoulder give a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

    Finally, they arrived at the entrance to the Gryffindormon room, marked by the portrait of the Fat Lady. Professor McGonagall held Hermione back at a subtle distance from the portrait.

    Hermione immediately looked up at her Head of House, her brown eyes wide with a mixture of nervousness and curiosity. She noticed that Professor McGonagall was smiling, but it was a tight smile, one that didn''t quite reach her eyes. It was clear that she was trying to conceal her own worry behind that facade of reassurance.

    "I must admit, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall began, her Scottish ent slightly more distinct with emotion, "this situation is very strange, even for someone who has seen as much as I have at Hogwarts¡ª"

    The professor''s shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly, but after drawing in a deep, steadying breath, she continued in an uncharacteristically gentle tone that Hermione had rarely heard her use:

    "At this juncture, whatever nefarious ns the person who ced your name in the Goblet of Fire might be orchestrating, Miss Granger, the fact remains that you are now, officially, a Triwizard champion. So, I sincerely hope you can embody the true Gryffindor spirit that I know resides within you and face this extraordinary challenge to the absolute best of your considerable abilities, alright?"

    Hermione''s eyes welled up again, a mix of emotions ¨C gratitude, fear, determination ¨C swirling within her. She found herself at a loss for words, unsure how to respond to Professor McGonagall''s expectations. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on her shoulders, and for a moment, she felt overwhelmed by it all.

    Seeing Hermione''s struggle, Professor McGonagall pressed on, her voice taking on a note of encouragement. "There has always been persistent chatter among certain students that you''re nothing more than a simple bookworm,"

    Professor McGonagall continued, her nostrils ring slightly with disapproval. "Oh, what utter nonsense! The professors have always dismissed such short-sighted talk. But surely you understand, Miss Granger, this tournament presents an unprecedented opportunity to silence those foolish rumors once and for all!"

    "But¡ª" Hermione''s mind was racing with a thousand concerns and uncertainties, but she forced herself to push aside the chaos of her thoughts and focus on Professor McGonagall''s encouraging words.

    "Beauxbatons and Durmstrang have specifically chosen their most capable students, and Cedric is certainly among Hogwarts'' best. Professor Watson has also made it clear that the Triwizard Tournament tasks are extremely dangerous. I simply don''t know enough advanced magic yet, Professor McGonagall, I''m not certain if I can possibly¡ª"

    "Oh, Miss Granger¡ª" Professor McGonagall interrupted her student''s spiral of self-doubt, her voice carrying a rare note of fierce pride,

    "While I don''t precisely know about the teaching standards at Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, I can say with absolute certainty that regarding Cedric Diggory¡ªyes, that boy is undoubtedly excellent, but I firmly believe you are even more exceptional, Miss Granger. If he possesses the capabilities to handle thosepetition tasks, there is absolutely no logical reason why you cannot do the same, if not better!"

    In the bright firelight that flickered from nearby brackets, Hermione stared at Professor McGonagall with wide, disbelieving eyes. She could hardly believe that her stern Head of House had given her such high praise. It was well known throughout Hogwarts that Professor McGonagall was always ''reserved'' when it came to givingpliments to students.

    Seeing Hermione''s shock, a hint of mischief crept into Professor McGonagall''s expression. "Ah, naturally, I trust my rather enthusiastic assessment of your abilities won''t reach Madam Pomfrey''s ears, you understand my meaning perfectly well, Miss Granger?"

    To Hermione''s utter amazement, Professor McGonagall winked yfully. It was an incredibly rare sight, one that Hermione would have thought impossible from someone who always prioritized maintaining her image and authority in front of students. This small gesture, more than anything else, helped to ease some of the tension that had been building in Hermione''s chest.

    As they approached the Fat Lady''s portrait, the sound of voices from within themon room grew louder. Just as the portrait began to swing open, Harry''s impatient voice cut through the noise:

    "I''ve already told you!" he eximed; his frustration evident even through the thick oak of the portrait. "Hermione spent the entire day with me, Ron, Hagrid, and arge group of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students. They can all testify that Hermione couldn''t possibly have had time to put her name in the Goblet of Fire!"

    As the portrait fully opened, revealing the Gryffindormon room, Hermione was struck by the sheer number of people crammed into the space. It seemed that almost every student from first to seventh year had gathered there, creating a sea of red and gold. At the center of the crowd, standing on a table to be seen and heard above the noise, were the few people who had always been close to Hermione.

    "Potter!" Professor McGonagall called out, her face instantly transforming back into the stern expression that Hermione was so familiar with. She stood at the entrance, but her voice easily drowned out by the noisy crowd. Everyone''s attention was focused on Harry,pletely unaware of Professor McGonagall and Hermione''s arrival.

    "Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall raised her voice and called out sternly again. "Would you kindly remove yourself from that table this instant?"

    Harry, looking exhausted from repeatedly answering the crowd''s questions about how Hermione had managed to put her name in the Goblet of Fire, seemed to have reached the end of his patience. Despite his insistence that Hermione didn''t have the time and wouldn''t have done such a thing behind their backs, his ssmates seemed to have filters on their ears, blocking out his words. Meanwhile, Ron, who had been testifying alongside him earlier, now remained stubbornly silent.

    At the sound of Professor McGonagall''s voice, Harry''s head snapped up, his eyes scanning the room until theynded on the entrance. He saw Professor McGonagall looking at him sternly, and beside her, Hermione, who managed to give him a small, tired smile.

    "Oh, bloody hell¡ªsorry, Professor McGonagall!" Harry eximed, his face flushing with embarrassment as he scrambled to jump down from his impromptu podium. However, the density of the crowd surrounding the table made his hasty exit rather problematic.

    In his rush toply with Professor McGonagall''s order, he identally fixed his foot directly on Ginny''s toes, causing her to let out a cat-like yelp of pain that echoed through themon room. Harry barely had time to toss a hurried apology over his shoulder before pushing his way through the sea of bodies, not even waiting to hear Ginny''s response, as he rushed to reach Professor McGonagall and Hermione.

    "How did everything go?" Harry asked breathlessly, his green eyes wide with genuine concern behind his sses as he stared intently at his best friend, searching her face for clues about her fate.

    Hermione, clearly aware of why Harry''s voice was so hoarse, pressed her lips together in a thin line and blinked at him. Their years of close friendship allowed Harry to immediately understand that things weren''t too bad; at least Hermione hadn''t been expelled over this, otherwise, she wouldn''t have been able to muster even the faintest smile.

    Slightly relieved, Harry finally started to worry about his own predicament. He stole a quick nce at Professor McGonagall, expecting to see her trademark stern expression. To his surprise, he found that her face wasn''t as stern as he had anticipated. Behind Harry, the Gryffindor students stood in unusual silence, well aware that their Head of House was a professor who greatly valued rules. So many people crowding themon room when they should be in bed clearly wouldn''t please her under normal circumstances.

    But these were far from normal circumstances, and to everyone''s surprise, Professor McGonagall didn''t fly into a rage.

    "The school believes¡ª" she began, her gaze sweeping across the sea of confused and nervous young faces before her, "Regarding the extraordinary events of tonight¡ª specifically concerning Hermione Granger''s selection as a champion ¡ªyou should know some truths."

    The young witches and wizards leaned forward eagerly, their eyes wide with anticipation as they looked between Professor McGonagall and the silent Hermione.

    "At present, after extensive discussion, the Ministry of Magic, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, and the Durmstrang Institute have reached a unanimous consensus that Miss Granger''s name appearing in the Goblet of Fire was definitely not of her own doing¡ª"

    <em><strong>Whoosh!</strong></em>

    The moment the words left Professor McGonagall''s lips, the previously quiet crowd erupted into a cacophony of excited chatter. Despite Harry''s tireless efforts to convince everyone of this very fact throughout the evening, no one had taken his words seriously. After all, who would be magnanimous enough to secretly enter someone else''s name into the Goblet of Fire, essentially gifting them the opportunity to be a champion and potentially win eternal glory?

    "Who did it then, Professor?" Fred raised his hand high and asked, "Have you found out?"

    "I''m afraid not, Mr. Weasley, not yet!" Professor McGonagall''s voice became slightly colder, "But I believe the truth wille out sooner orter!"

    Angelina Johnson, her brow furrowed in thought, couldn''t help but voice the questions that were on everyone''s minds. "Then how did you determine it wasn''t Hermione herself who put her name in, and why would someone do this?"

    These two questions were equally worth addressing, but unfortunately, Professor McGonagall didn''t provide an exnation. Her silence on the matter was telling ¨C it was a clear indication that this conclusion had been reached through discussion and consensus among the authorities, and no one should doubt it.

    With that, Professor McGonagall seemed to have finished what she wanted to say. She gently pushed Hermione towards the crowd, then, with a nod to the room atrge, she turned to leave. But with one foot already in the doorway, Professor McGonagall paused, as if suddenly remembering something important. She turned back to look at the young Gryffindor witches and wizards, and this time, her expression wasn''t as serious. In fact, there was a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth.

    "Oh, and one final matter¡ª" Professor McGonagall shrugged and said to everyone in a casual tone, "After extensive discussion and deliberation among all concerned parties, Hermione Granger''s status as a Triwizard champion has been officially confirmed and deemed absolutely valid."

    With that bombshell dropped, Professor McGonagall swept out of themon room, the portrait swinging shut behind her. Shepletely disregarded the floor-shaking cheers that erupted the moment the Fat Lady''s portrait closed, and the sound of jubtion following her down the corridor.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0526 Attitude

    0526 Attitude

    Hermione''s voice trembled slightly as she recounted to Harry every detail of what had transpired in that cramped, tension-filled room after they''d left the magnificently decorated Great Hall. The flickering torches casted dancing shadows across her pale face as she spoke, but what sent genuine shivers down Harry''s spine wasn''t her behavior¡ªit was Professor Moody''s deeply troubling spection that she shared.

    Moody had shared two equally disturbing possibilities: Either someone harbored such deep-seated, venomous hatred towards Hermione that they were willing to orchestrate her death through the tournament''s dangerous tasks, or¡ªperhaps even more sinister¡ªsomeone was orchestrating a calcted plot to bring catastrophic misfortune to Hogwarts itself.

    Their method was cunningly simple yet devastatingly effective: force the school to have two champions, thereby making Hogwarts a target of widespread hostility and istion throughout the magicalmunity. Given the tournament''s historically lethal nature, they might not even need to implement any additional schemes to achieve their nefarious goals.

    In short, they wanted Hermione dead.

    "You absolutely cannot participate in this tournament!" Harry''s emerald eyes zed with an intensity that matched the surrounding torchlight, his voice echoed off the ancient stone walls as he shouted, barely containing his rage. "How dare they¡ªHOW DARE THEY¡ªallow you to participate when they know full well what the consequences could be!"

    Hermione stood pressed against the frost-kissed castle wall, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if seekingfort, her usual confident demeanor was reced by an unsettling silence.

    "I''ll go to anyone¡ªEVERYONE!" Harry continued, his voice rising with each word. "Professor McGonagall, Professor Watson, Dumbledore¡ªthey have to find some way to extract you from this nightmare. They can''t simply stand idle and watch you march towards potential death!"

    Perhaps it was the raw emotion in Hermione''s retelling, or the unbridled fury in Harry''s outburst, but Ron''s face had turned ashen¡ªclearly, he hadn''t fully grasped the serious implications lurking beneath the surface of this seemingly prestigious event.

    Ginny looked at Hermione with a gaze full of concern, though she feltpelled to challenge Harry''s desperate statements.

    "Harry, you have to understand¡ªthis isn''t something you can simply change through sheer force of will, The professors have already discussed possible solution¡ªnothing works¡ª"

    "THEN¡ª!" Harry''s eyes widened, his voice cracking as it rose even higher, but the words died in his throat as the crushing weight of helplessness descended upon him.

    <em>''What options remained? What could anyone possibly do?''</em>

    As Dumbledore had exined as per Hermione''s retelling, destroying the Goblet of Fire would not only devastate the ancient tradition of the Triwizard Tournament but would also shatter the dreams of the other three innocent champions.

    While Harry himself, wouldn''t hesitate to reduce the Goblet to ashes, he knew with bitter certainty that he couldn''t convince any of the professors to take such drastic action. Even his adventure-seeking ssmates, who viewed the tournament through rose-tinted sses, would recoil at such a suggestion.

    "Perhaps¡ªperhaps it won''t be as dangerous as we fear," Ginny said, her voice wavering with worried optimism as she tried to soothe Harry''s obvious distress. "After this shocking development, I''m certain Professor Watson will scrutinize every aspect of the tournament tasks with unprecedented rigor. He won''t permit any further maniption. Looking at it that way, it could be fair, couldn''t it? We''ve all seen Hermione in Physical Education ss¡ªshe''s every bit as capable as Diggory. If he can handle whatever tasksy ahead, surely Hermione can too¡ª"

    "But Professor Watson specifically emphasized¡ª" Harry''s frown deepened as he spoke, his mind racing. While Ginny''s logic wasn''t entirely wed, an unshakeable sense of foreboding continued to gnaw at his heart. "The Triwizard Tournament isn''t just about dueling skills and prowess¡ªit tests every aspect of Champions'' ability. Diggory and the other champions... they''re the cream of the crop among the senior students. They must have mastered countless spells and techniques that we haven''t even encountered in our studies yet."

    The sheer thoughtfulness of Harry''s analysis took Hermione by surprise¡ªshe found herself watching Harry feeling indescribably touched as his usually impulsive nature seemed to be reced by careful consideration for her.

    "But Hermione''s alreadypleted all the coursework, hasn''t she?" Ginny interjected, lifting her chin with characteristic Weasley determination. The firelight caught her red hair, creating a halo effect as she spoke. "I definitely remember seeing you over the summer holiday, poring over Percy''s abandoned sixth-year textbooks with that look of absolute concentration you get."

    "Oh¡ª" Hermione''s response came out barely above a whisper, her usual confidence now conspicuously absent. "I''ve only memorized them¡ªit''s not the same as practical experience¡ª" Her fingers nervously traced patterns on her robes as she spoke downying her achievements.

    The more they analyzed the situation, the less insurmountable Hermione''s disadvantage seemed, despite being a full two years younger than the tournament''s intended minimum and legal age.

    "What exactly are they nning for the first task?" Harry''s question cut through the momentary silence, his voice tight with concern.

    Nobody knew better than Harry and Ron how truly exceptional Hermione was among their generation of witches and wizards. In Harry''s mind, if any of them from their trio could possibly qualify as a champion, it would undoubtedly be Hermione. Yet the dark circumstances surrounding her selection casted a heavy shadow over what should have been a moment of triumph, making it impossible for anyone to truly celebrate this recognition of her abilities.

    Though she had exined it earlier, Hermione obediently recited Barty Crouch''s instructions to the champions once more.

    "That''s all they said? Nothing else?" Harry''s voice rose with indignation. "They should give you special consideration, Hermione. You''re the youngest champion in history, for Merlin''s sake! These tasks will obviously be more challenging for you... None of this is your fault¡ªyou were deliberately targeted!"

    Harry''s words hung in the air, bringing them all back to the crucial question that had been haunting them since the announcement¡ªwho had orchestrated this situation? Who had manipted events to force Hermione into this dangerous position?

    "SNAPE, It must be Snape!" Harry''s eyes suddenly zed with conviction, his voice dropping to an intense whisper as the pieces seemed to fall into ce in his mind. "Remember what Professor Watson said¡ª everyone who could influence the Goblet''s judgment was in that small room. Think about it logically¡ªwho has the motive? Let''s look at who was there: Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, Professor Watson, Professor Dumbledore, and... Snape!"

    Harry''s frustration grew more intense with each word, his theory gaining momentum in his mind as he continued to build his case. The torchlight casted shadows across his face as he paced, his footsteps echoing in the corridor.

    "He''s the most suspicious by far! Professor Watson trusts him because of their rtionship, so he wouldn''t think to suspect him. And Dumbledore¡ªDumbledore''s always trusted him, hasn''t he? But Snape''s always despised the way you outshine everyone in his ss, Hermione. And we all know how he feels about Dumbledore¡ªif Dumbledore loses face over this, Snape would definitely be ecstatic!"

    His words were met with skeptical silence¡ªnot even Hermione, who usually spoke for his most theories, seemed convinced. Theck of support only seemed to fuel Harry''s determination as he continued with increasing passion.

    "I''m going to write to Sirius about this immediately," he continued heatedly, his green eyes glinting with determination. "He''s an Auror now¡ªhe might have ways to investigate Snape that we haven''t thought of."

    The heavy silence that followed suggested there was little else to discuss. The harsh reality remained unchanged¡ªHermione would have to face whatever dangerous tasks awaited her in the tournament.

    "What''s your take on this, Ron?" Harry turned to his best friend, frustration evident in his voice at theck of support for his theory. Under normal circumstances, Ron would be the first to join him in criticizing Snape, their shared distrust of Snape was also a cornerstone of their friendship.

    "Oh, congrattions¡ª" Ron''s uncharacteristic silence throughout the evening had created an unsettling atmosphere, and perhaps it was this difort that prompted Harry to draw him into the conversation. However, Ron''s response came as aplete surprise to everyone present.

    "What?" Harry''s confusion was mirrored in Ginny''s face as they both stared at Ron, trying to understand this unexpected reaction.

    Hermione, still hugging herself protectively, visibly shuddered at Ron''s words. Her head remained bowed, her eyes fixed on their elongated shadows dancing on the stone floor, distorted by the flickering torchlight.

    Ron stood facing Harry, though his words seemed directed at no one in particr. His attempt at a smile came across as forced and ufortable, creating an unsettling disconnect between his expression and his words. Confronted by the bewildered looks from Harry and Ginny, he shrugged with an air of forced casualness, as if stating something obvious.

    "Everyone heard what Professor Watson announced earlier," he said, his voice carrying an unfamiliar edge. "The Triwizard Tournament will be broadcasted live across multiple magical societies throughout Europe, using the same monitoring method he used in the school before. This means that when the tournament begins, tens of thousands of wizards will witness your every move, Hermione. You might even surpass Lockhart in fame. And let''s not forget the substantial prize money awaiting you after the tournament concludes. Professor Watson certainly won''t resort to tricks with fake leprechaun gold like Ludo Bagman did."

    The firelight casted deep shadows across Hermione''s face, concealing the sh of hurt that crossed her facial features at Ron''s words. The warmth of the mes did nothing to dispel the chill that had settled in her heart.

    "What in Merlin''s name are you on about?" Harry snapped, his irritation reaching a breaking point. "We''re discussing the very real dangers Hermione''s about to face, and trying to determine if Snape''s behind this whole mess!"

    Ron repeated his newly adopted shrugging gesture, the movement stiff and unnatural. "It''ll work out fine, won''t it? I mean, regarding the tournament tasks¡ªnobody''s going to die with Professor Watson and Dumbledore overseeing everything. If they decided to reinstate the tournament, they must be confident about safety measures. Maybe everyone''s just trying to create dramatic tension, like in second year when Professor Watson made such a big show before having us deal with that Inferi¡ª"

    "I''m going to bed¡ª" Hermione suddenly announced and pushed herself away from the wall with determined force, drew in a shaky breath, and fled before anyone could respond. By the time Harry and the others reacted, they only caught a glimpse of her bushy hair disappearing through the portrait hole into themon room.

    The Gryffindor dormitory was still alive with celebration when they returned, the air was still thick with excitement over Hermione''s selection as a champion. Neville sat perched on the edge of his bed, a half-empty bottle of butterbeer clutched in his hand, wearing a dopey grin that suggested he''d had several more before this one.

    Harry isted himself from the partying, throwing himself into the task of writing to Sirius with such intensity that his quill nearly tore through the parchment which also stirred up someplicated emotions¡ªthey hadn''t seen each other since their heated argument during the summer holidays, though their subsequent letters had carefully danced around the conflict.

    Determined to exin every detail of the situation, Harry wrote a letter that surpassed the length of any essay he''d ever written for his sses at Hogwarts.

    After carefully folding the lengthy letter, Harry decided to visit the owlery at first light to find Hedwig. He sat at his desk, staring into the dense darkness beyond the window, listening to the distant roar of waves from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. His thoughts continually circled back to Hermione, worry gnawing at his heart.

    The situation stirred strange emotions within Harry. Throughout their years at Hogwarts, he had arguably found himself in more dangerous situations than any other student. Usually, it was Hermione who provided level-headed advice and clever solutions. But now, the roles were reversed¡ªHermione was the one in danger. He had to find a way to help her, to be useful, to repay all the times she''d saved him with her quick thinking and vast knowledge.

    <em>''But how?''</em>

    Harry found himself wishing, not for the first time, that he possessed even a fraction of Hermione''s brilliant intellect.

    After tucking the letter in his robe pocket, Harry stood up with a lengthy yawn. The dormitory was still buzzing with energy¡ªSeamus and Dean continued their enthusiastic celebration, while Neville had copsed to sleep in his bed, the half-empty bottle of butterbeer having spilled all over his bedding without his knowledge.

    The scene was quite amusing and Harry instinctively turned to share the moment with Ron.

    But Rony motionless in his bed, facing the wall, his entire body hidden beneath his nket.

    "Well..." Harry muttered under his breath, mimicking Ron''s earlier shrug as he started toward the washroom. After just two steps, however, he found himself turning back to look at Ron''s bed. Something about the sight¡ªhis best friend''s turned back and the weird silence¡ªsent a wave of sadness washing over Harry''s heart.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0527 Vigilance

    0527 Vignce

    On that crisp Sunday morning, Hermione gradually stirred from her restless sleep, her bleary eyes slowly focusing on the sparkling autumn sky visible through the windows of Gryffindor Tower.

    The morning light filtered through in gentle golden streams, but it did little to lift the crushing weight of exhaustion and mncholy that seemed to press down upon her chest. The events of the previous night had haunted her relentlessly, ying through her mind like a twisted magical projection, causing her to toss and turn beneath her bedsheets until the early hours of dawn.

    Even in her brief moments of sleep, her dreams had been gued by vivid, unsettling scenes that she desperately wished to forget but couldn''t seem to shake from her consciousness.

    The girls'' dormitory was wrapped in an almost ghostly silence with the usual morning chatter and rustling of her roommates notably absent. The beds belonging to Lavender and Parvati were empty, their covers already neatly made.

    With tremendous effort, as if fighting against an Impediment Jinx, Hermione forced herself to sit upright. Her trembling fingers found the thick velvet curtains of her four-poster bed, drawing them back with a soft swish to reveal what she had fondlye to think of as her ''book wall''.

    Unlike the blunt regrity of the boys'' dormitory, which Harry had once described to her as practically monastic in its grim simplicity, the girls'' living space reflected the unique personalities of its inhabitants.

    While Hermione maintained the traditional Hogwarts-issued bedding in its original deep crimson and gold, Lavender and Parvati had transformed their spaces into vibrant colors. Lavender''s bed curtains sparkled with delicate lights and hanging crystals that caught the morning sun, while Parvati''s space was decorated with intricate Indian fabrics and moving photographs of her family.

    Hermione''s corner, in contrast, spoke about her academic nature ¨C towering stacks of books created a fortress around her bed, some wobbling so unsteadily that only magic could be keeping them upright.

    If she had her way, Hermione would have dly remained hidden in this peaceful bubble until the first task of the Triwizard Tournament began. The quiet privacy of her dormitory offered a natural preserve from the chaos that surely awaited her below, but she knew with crushing certainty that such an escape was impossible. The rational part of her mind, always dominant despite her emotional turmoil, reminded her that hiding would only make things worse in the long run.

    With resigned determination, she slipped her feet into her worn slippers and padded across the cool stone floor to the dormitory bathroom. The mirror, its frame decorated with carved vines that seemed to shift and grow in the early morning light, reflected back an image that made her wince.

    Dark circles shadowed her eyes like bruises, due to her sleepless night. Her usually untamable hair had outdone itself, resembling something closer to a bird''s nest than actual human hair. Her cotton nightgown, typically pristine despite her restless sleeping habits, hade undone at the top, the first button having worked itself free during the night. The cor hung awry, leaving one shoulder exposed, giving her the appearance of someone who had just emerged from a particrly vigorous duel.

    Drawing upon years of experience managing her unruly hair, Hermione knew that a thorough washing would be the quickest route to achieving some semnce of presentability. The thought of facing her housemates looking anything like this was unthinkable ¨C she refused to give them any additional ammunition for their inevitable whispers and stares.

    Leaning against the stone wall for support to prevent herself from falling due tock of sleep, Hermione began the arduous task of unbuttoning her nightgown. Her movements were very slow and clumsy, as if this could reasonably buy her more time to stay in the room.

    <strong>Hiss¡ª</strong>

    When she undid the third button, the nightgown slid down her skin on its own, and the November air rushed to meet her exposed flesh with an almost predatory eagerness. The cold was shocking, drawing a sharp intake of breath through her teeth and causing a ripple of goosebumps to race across her arms and torso. The mirror captured the involuntary shiver that passed through her body.

    In an instinctive response to the chill, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, her hands moving rapidly up and down her arms in an attempt to generate warmth. The practical part of her mind urged her to hurry into the shower''s waiting warmth, but something made her pause at the edge of the mirror''s view. Almost against her will, she stepped back into full view of her reflection, straightening her posture despite the chill.

    For a moment, Hermione observed her reflection with an analytical eye that was usually reserved forplex arithmancy problems. The thought that crossed her mind ¨C an assessment of her body that was surprisingly positive ¨C caught herpletely off guard.

    The sudden self-awareness sent a flush of color racing across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the room''s temperature, and she practically dived into the waiting shower stand, eager to escape from her own unexpected vanity.

    Under the chute of hot water, surrounded by billowing steam that transformed the bathroom into something simr to a potions ssroom, Hermione tried to rationalize her moment of self-observation.

    <em>''After all,''</em> she thought defensively, <em>''Parvati and Lavender have beenparing since second year. There''s nothing inappropriate about being aware of one''s own physical development!''</em>

    The steam seemed to absorb her silent justifications, offering neither judgment nor forgiveness.

    Today being Sunday, students could wear their own clothes instead of wizard robes.

    She chose a pair of jeans and a light blue sweatshirt that seemed to soften her appearance, making her look more like the teenage girl she was rather than the unwilling champion she had be.

    Standing before the mirror once more, she conducted a thorough inspection of her appearance, noting with relief that aside from the stubborn dark circles beneath her eyes ¨C which no amount of cold water had managed to diminish ¨C she looked remarkably normal which made her breathe a sigh of relief.

    Her book bag hung loosely at her side, unusually light without its normal burden of textbooks and scrolls. The emptiness should have bothered her ¨C Hermione Granger was never without reading material ¨C but today, she barely noticed.

    She stood frozen behind the dormitory door, her hand resting on the handle, gathering her courage like a shield around her. The minutes ticked by as she rehearsed possible responses to the worst scenarios she might face, until finally, with a deep breath that seemed to fill her entire being, she pushed the door open and stepped out to face whatever awaited her.

    The descent down the spiral staircase to the Gryffindormon room felt like walking to her own execution. Each step brought her closer to the murmur of voices below, each turn revealing more of the familiar circr room that suddenly seemed as intimidating as the Forbidden Forest.

    The moment she emerged into view, the atmosphere shifted palpably. ssmates who had already returned from breakfast greeted her with an enthusiasm that somehow felt forced and ufortable, their eyes seemed to hold a mixture of curiosity, concern, and in some cases, barely concealed skepticism.

    Colin Creevey, the enthusiastic third-year who was usually Harry''s personal paparazzi, practically bounced across the room toward her, his ever-present camera was swinging wildly around his neck. This unprecedented attention made Hermione understand, with startling rity, why Harry always seemed so ufortable with Colin''s persistent photography. This boy''s eager face and ready camera made her want to retreat back up the stairs.

    "I''m sorry, Colin," she managed, trying to inject warmth into her voice despite her difort, "but I''m running ratherte for breakfast, and then I need to get to the library--"

    The words tumbled out in a rush as she deftly maneuvered between Colin and his equally enthusiastic brother Dennis, making a beeline for the portrait hole with the precision of someone who had spent years dodging unwanted attention in the library.

    The Fat Lady''s portrait had barely swung open when Hermione collided with Harry, who appeared to be returning from some early morning errand. His presence was both a surprise and an immediatefort, though she tried not to let thetter show too obviously on her face.

    "You''re up?" Harry''s voice carried genuine surprise, and he shifted awkwardly before presenting her with a stack of bread carefully wrapped in napkins. "I went up to the Owlery to send a letter to Sirius, then waited for you in the Great Hall. When you didn''t show up, I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some--"

    "Oh, thank you--" Hermione''s gratitude was genuine, touched by his thoughtfulness.

    "Are you heading to the library?" Harry asked again, and after getting Hermione''s affirmative response, Harry mumbled ''wait'' and rushed into themon room.

    Harry''s question about her destination seemed casual enough, but when he disappeared into themon room only to return momentster, slightly out of breath and clutching his book bag, his true intentions became transparent.

    "I''m going too--"

    Thest time they had gone to the library together was probablyst year when they were trying to help Hagrid find some favorable legal materials for Buckbeak''s hearing. So, Harry could understand why Hermione looked surprised.

    "To find some information rted to Professor Sinistra''s essay," Harry said awkwardly, turning his gaze away. "You should be focusing on preparing for your own tournament task, there''s no need for you to worry about homework right now, especially not mine or Ron''s."

    Hermione pressed her lips together and smiled, "No one''s going to attack me in broad daylight inside the castle," she continued, trying to inject lightness into her voice. "Though I suppose I should brace myself for plenty of unpleasantments¡ª"

    "Oh, you worked it out then." Harry''s surprise was quickly reced by sheepish recognition that trying to hide his motivations from Hermione had been futile from the start. She hadn''t earned her reputation as the brightest witch of their age by being dull-witted. Given how well she knew him, it would have been odd if she hadn''t seen through his intentions.

    As they began their descent from Gryffindor Tower, Hermione forced herself to ask the question that had been burning in her mind. "What about Ron?" She tried to make her voice sound casual, indifferent even, but the slight tremor in her words gave her up.

    Harry''s response came with an undercurrent of frustration. "Still in the Great Hall eating breakfast¡ª" he exined, his tone carrying a note ofint. "I tried to get him toe along, told him that whoever put your name in the Goblet might try something else, but he just said there were plenty of people fighting over the chance to protect you, so there wasn''t any point in worrying about it."

    Harry grumbled.

    The words hit Hermione, and she felt her face freeze into an expression of careful neutrality. She didn''t know whether to be touched by Harry''s obvious but determined action or hurt by Ron''s pettiness.

    "That''s not the same thing at all!" she managed to say as her voice tightened with conflicting emotions.

    The journey to the library wasn''t pleasant.

    Before leaving the dormitory, Hermione knew that even though Professor McGonagall had told everyone that the school had determined based on certain deductions that she hadn''t put her name in the Goblet herself, she couldn''t expect understanding from everyone. So, she thought she had mentally prepared herself for others'' strange looks.

    But the actual situation was worse than she had imagined. Along the way, the Hufflepuff students they encountered made no effort to hide their looks of disgust at her. They didn''t care how her name had ended up in the Goblet of Fire; the indisputable fact was that she had ''stolen'' the glory that should have belonged solely to Cedric, should have belonged solely to Hufflepuff.

    The Slytherins, predictably, treated the whole situation as some sort of cosmic joke. Their sneers and knowing looks suggested they were already taking bets on how quickly she would fail, or worse, meet some gruesome end in the tournament.

    Perhaps most disappointing was the reaction from Ravenw house. Hermione had hoped that those who prided themselves on their intelligence and rationality would show more understanding, but she was sadly mistaken. As she and Harry passed through a particrly crowded corridor, the whispered conversations of a group of Ravenw girls reached their ears with crystal rity ¨C "Who knows what''s really going on, maybe this is just a cover story they made up to hide the scandal."

    Harry angrily rushed forward to argue with them, but Hermione held him back, walking on without a word.

    The library, usually her sanctuary, offered little relief from the morning''s trials. Madam Pince stood at her desk, her hawkish facial features arranged in a familiar scowl as she watched a group of young witches who were failing miserably at being subtle about their attention to Viktor Krum.

    Whether it was the book in front of him or the harassing nces, Krum looked gloomy and slightly unhappy. He shook his head absently, then noticed two of the Hogwarts students he was more familiar with appearing in the library.

    Krum''s demeanor shifted notably when he spotted Hermione and Harry entering the library. He rose from his chair with surprising grace for someone of his build, clearly intending to approach them. "It''s you, Her-my-own-ninny" he began, his ent mangling her name in what would have been an endearing way under different circumstances.

    However, to his surprise just before he could take more than a step in their direction, Harry suddenly stepped forward positioning himself between him and Hermione, and stared at him with vignt eyes.

    "Don''te closer¡ª"

    Harry''s hand rested on his pocket, making a motion as if ready to draw his wand at any moment, speaking in a threatening tone.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0528 Friendship (2-in-1 Chapter)

    0528 Friendship (2-in-1 Chapter)

    The tension in the library was palpable as Harry''s unexpectedly aggressive reaction sent ripples of shock through the hushed atmosphere. The sudden change in his demeanor caught everyone off guard, including Viktor Krum, who was also genuinely surprised.

    Even the always stern Madam Pince, her thin lips typically pursed in disapproval, momentarily forgot her customary irritation at the cluster of giggling witches who had been trailing Krum throughout the library. She had only permitted their presence¡ªdespite their incessant whispering and dreamy sighs¡ªout of diplomatic courtesy to their distinguished Durmstrang guest.

    <em>''But what was Harry Potter doing?''</em>

    Krum''s thick eyebrows, which had just begun to rx furrowed once again as he looked at the boy before him, who was half a head shorter, with confusion in his gaze.

    He knew this green-eyed boy was Harry Potter, someone who was, in some ways, even more famous than himself. They had met face-to-face twice before¡ªfirst at the Quidditch World Cup, and then just yesterday during when Harry and his two friends had shown them around Hogwarts grounds.

    During both meetings, Harry Potter had been nothing but friendly, and especially his red-headed friend¡ª Krum remembered¡ªhad been particrly enthusiastic, barely containing his fan-boy excitement.

    <em>''But what was happening now?''</em>

    Harry wouldn''t let him approach them closely and seemed ready to attack. Though Krum had to admit, Harry''s stance and expression were quite intimidating - he appeared to have had some training.

    "Oh, please don''t do this, Harry!" Hermione finally came to her senses and called out anxiously. Her brown eyes darted anxiously between her friend and the international Quidditch star, her fingers nervously twisting a strand of her bushy hair.

    She was probably the only one who understood why Harry was reacting so extremely - he likely viewed all unfamiliar people as potential threats towards her. The warmth of being protected spread through her chest, but it was immediately tempered by practical concern.

    Any conflict with Durmstrang''s champion could have serious diplomatic consequences, not to mention the potential impact on the tournament itself. Her mind raced through possible solutions as she watched Harry''s tense posture, his hand hovering near where she knew his wand was concealed.

    "Let''s talk outside," Hermione said decisively, grasping Harry''s sleeve and pulling him towards the library entrance. She opened her mouth to offer an exnation to Krum, but Madam Pince''s withering re made her shiver and reconsider. Instead, she leaned closer to Krum and whispered her exnations, careful to keep her voice below the library''s strict noise threshold.

    The trio made their way out of the library, passing through its wooden doors into the castle. The library entrance, bustling with students moving between sses, was too public for their needed conversation.

    Almost instinctively, Hermione guided them toward a familiar corridor¡ªthe same one where Professor Watson had previously assisted the house-elf in birth. As they walked, she noticed Krum''s dark eyes taking in every detail of their surroundings, studying the row of sealed ssrooms with genuine interest.

    A sudden movement over their head caught their attention¡ªa spider, its body roughly the size of a baby''s clenched fist, scurried across a web that stretched between ancient stone arches.

    Hermione unconsciously brushed her thick hair away from her face, her cheeks coloring slightly as she feltpelled to exin, "We don''t use all these ssrooms for regr lessons anymore. Some of these spaces haven''t been used in centuries... so they''re not exactly maintained to the usual Hogwarts standards¡ª"

    Harry grimaced; this wasn''t another formal tour like yesterdays. There was no need to provide Krum with such detailed exnations of every corner of the castle.

    "I think it is.... interestin''¡ª" Surprisingly, Krum showed no concern about the poor conditions nor did he dwell on Harry''s earlier aggressive reaction. He enthusiastically stared at a broken-armed statue at the corridor''s end and said, "Durmstrang''s castle is not so... grand as Hogwarts¡ªonly four floors high. And it is not so.....fortable or interesting..... like here¡ª"

    As Krum spoke, Harry began to realize something that shifted his perception of himpletely. Viktor Krum as an international Quidditch star didn''t carry himself with the expected arrogance of a celebrity athlete.

    His usual quietness, Harry now understood, likely stemmed from self-consciousness about his imperfect English rather than any sense of superiority. Even now, as he attempted to describe Durmstrang, his speech was sprinkled with asional phrases of Bulgarian that neither Harry nor Hermione could decipher, his thick ent was also struggling with certain English words.

    The conversation took an unexpected turn when Krum, looking somewhat sheepish, asked, "Could you.... perhaps help me get an autograph?"

    The request hung in the air, notable for its novelty¡ªusually, it was Krum being mobbed by admirers seeking his signature. Just yesterday, during their tour of the grounds with the visiting students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, Harry had witnessed countless Hogwarts girls practically tripping over themselves to get Krum''s autograph.

    Harry and Hermione exchanged nces, surprise giving way to understanding as they processed the request. "Whose autograph are you hoping to get?" Hermione asked carefully, though she suspected she already knew the answer.

    "Mr. Watson¡ª" Krum admitted, his expression unusually weak. "I don''t know many people here, and I''m not certain if Mr. Watson would consider it, ah..." he trailed off, searching for the right word.

    "Presumptuous!" Harry supplied helpfully, watching as relief crossed Krum''s facial features at being provided the exact term he''d been struggling to find.

    To Harry''s growing surprise, he found Krum remarkably easy to talk to, nothing like the stern, unapproachable figure he''d imagined. Most importantly, there wasn''t a hint of hostility toward Hermione despite their status aspeting champions. His congrattions to her seemed genuine, and his tone was also far more sincere andfortable than Ron''s had been duringst night''s interaction.

    Curiosity prompted Harry to ask why Krum hadn''t sought help from Malfoy¡ªafter all, during the past two evening feasts, Krum had been seated beside the Slytherin, and both Harry and Ron had observed Malfoy''s constant attempts to curry favor with him.

    Krum''s response, though partially lost in his thick ent and mumbled delivery, seemed to suggest he didn''t find Malfoy very reliable. This assessment immediately elevated Krum further in Harry''s estimation, and he felt a twinge of guilt about his earlier hostile behavior.

    "Alright, I''ll see what I can do about that autograph¡ª" Harry offered, his words serving as both eptance and apology. The tension from earlier hadpletely dissipated, reced by an unexpected sense of friendship.

    As they made their way back through the corridors, Krum exined the reason behind his presence in the library to Hermione, "I''ve been doing research to prepare for the first task¡ª"

    At the mention of the tournament task, Hermione''s expression grew anxious. She clearly wanted to inquire about the direction of his research, but caught herself before speaking. The tournament rules were explicit about champions relying solely on their own abilities, and asking about another champion''s preparation methods would undoubtedly constitute cheating.

    "Prepare?" Harry''s confusion was evident in his voice. From what Hermione had shared, Barty Crouch had provided the champions with nothing more than vague instructions to prepare mentally for the challenges, without any concrete information about their nature. "But the Ministry hasn''t revealed anything, have they? What could you possibly find in books?"

    Unlike Hermione, Harry had no such scruples about rules and asked directly. Krum, disying unexpected generosity, also shared his reasoning, "Yes, they''ve revealed nothing specific, but... there are always clues¡ª"

    He raised his thick eyebrows meaningfully, ncing at Hermione''s profile as she pretended not to be intensely interested. A hint of pride crept into his expression, momentarily transforming him from the intimidating celebrity to an eager student trying to show off, "Even though the tasks are kept secret, they usually fall into certain¡­. categories. By looking at records of past Triwizard Tournaments, you can usually guess the kinds of challenges the champions might face¡­"

    "Oh!" The revtion lit up Hermione''s eyes instantly. The approach was so obvious that she felt slightly embarrassed for not thinking of it herself. If she hadn''t been so preupied with the irregr circumstances of her championship and Ron''s concerns, it should probably have been her first course of action.

    "¡ªI''m not very familiar with theyout of Hogwarts'' library..." Krum continued in his usual clipped tone, "I haven''t been able to locate these historical records, and your librarian seems... she doesn''t seem to like people asking questions¡ª"

    "I can help with that! I know this library like the back of my hand!" Hermione''s enthusiasm was infectious, her earlier reservations about rule-breaking apparently forgotten.

    Harry, standing like a bodyguard, could only shrug resignedly upon hearing Hermione''s eager offer. He had already predicted that their afternoon ns would likely revolve around the library''s dusty shelves.

    His prediction was indeed absolutely correct. With remarkable efficiency, Hermione gathered every tome that could possibly contain information about the Triwizard Tournament, creating what appeared to be a small fortress of books around their table. The three of them spent hours poring over the texts, breaking only when Harry made quick dashes to the Great Hall to fetch food during lunch and dinner times.

    During one of these food runs, Harry encountered Ron in the Great Hall. When he extended an invitation for Ron to join them in their research efforts with Hermione and Krum, Ron''s response was evasive, mumbling something about pre-arranged ns to y Gobstones with Seamus that afternoon.

    The response both annoyed and puzzled Harry. He could sense that since the previous evening, Ron seemed to be deliberately avoiding Hermione, though he couldn''t quite understand why. However, this concerning observation was quickly pushed aside by more immediate concerns¡ªhelping Hermione uncover any possible hints about the tournament''s challenges was the first priority.

    "This is absolutely insane!" Hermione''s exmation came only after Madam Pince had practically shooed them from the library, her repeated insistence finally forcing them to leave.

    Both she and Harry emerged clutching stacks of parchment covered in notes about historical Triwizard Tournament conditions, their findings spanning centuries. Krum had left earlier, exining that Professor Karkaroff had strict rules about students remaining in the castle after hours.

    "They actually made champions face Dementors, werewolves, inferi, basilisks¡ª" Hermione''s voice rose with increasing dismay as they crossed the corridor bridge.

    She suddenly halted, turning to face the ckke that stretched out below them, its surface shimmering like polished obsidian in the evening light. Her expression was a mix of horror and indignation as she cried out, "But this is allpletely illegal!"

    <strong>...</strong>

    <strong>..</strong>

    <strong>.</strong>

    <strong><<<<****SCENEBREAK****>>>></strong>

    Hermione had spent countless hours trying to calcte and prepare herself mentally for the inevitable bacsh she would face after bing the unexpected Triwizard champion, but as the harsh reality of the new week unfolded and sses resumed their normal schedule, she discovered that the situation had spiraled far beyond her worst predictions. Her initial assumption that she alone would bear the brunt of the hostility proved painfully naive - the entire Gryffindor House had be entangled in this increasinglyplex web of tension and animosity.

    The confrontation she dreaded most was with the Hufflepuffs, whose sense of betrayal ran particrly deep. But as fate would have it, their very first ss that crisp Monday morning was Herbology, shared with the very house that felt most wronged by recent events.

    The greenhouse''s usually pleasant atmosphere was transformed into something almost tangible in its awkwardness. The normallybined ss had fractured into two distinct camps. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs now stood rigid and separate, refusing to even acknowledge each other''s existence.

    The breaking point came when Justin Finch-Fletchley, his face twisted in poorly concealed malice, deliberately "lost control" of his Bouncing Bulb, sending it bowling directly into Hermione''s nose. The resulting explosion ofughter from the Hufflepuff section echoed off the greenhouse ss, making the sound seem even more mocking than intended.

    Professor Sprout''s subsequent reprimand of Finch-Fletchley was notably half-hearted, delivered in such a lukewarm tone that it might as well have been amendation of his behavior. Even more telling was how the usually fair-minded professor seemed to develop a sudden reluctance to call upon either Neville or Hermione during ss discussions, despite their historically excellent participation.

    Tuesday brought Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins, and while Hagrid''s imposing presence kept outright hostility at bay, the undercurrent of antagonism was impossible to miss. The Slytherin girls, led by Pansy Parkinson, formed tight clusters throughout the lesson, pointing and whispering. Each time Draco leaned in to whisper something in Pansy''s ear, her shrillughter would pierce the air like a knife, her eyes never leaving Hermione''s ce.

    The ripple effects of this controversy extended far beyond Hogwarts, with both visiting schools making their displeasure known through increasingly dramatic gestures.

    The students of Beauxbatons, led by their stunningly beautiful group of girls, had expressed their displeasure by boycotting the Great Hall entirely. After sses, they would hurry across the grounds like scattered birds, disappearing to their powder-blue carriage as if the very air of Hogwarts had be toxic.

    Fred had discovered through his kitchen connections that the Beauxbatons students had arranged for house-elves to deliver their meals directly to their carriage, effectively creating their own private dining room away from the supposed treachery of Hogwarts.

    The Durmstrang students were equally protective of their champion, Viktor Krum. Whenever Krum appeared in the Great Hall, he was surrounded by a phnx of his fellow students, their dark expressions and rigid postures making it clear they expected trouble. Just as Harry''s protective instincts had kicked in regarding Hermione''s safety within the castle, Karkaroff''s paranoia about potential plots against Viktor had reached new heights.

    "If they''re so bloody terrified, why don''t they just pack up their things and go home!" Harry burst out angrily on Wednesday morning, his voice carrying more than intended across the breakfast table as he gestured angrily toward the conspicuously empty Ravenw table where the Beauxbatons students usually sat.

    "Please, Harry--" Hermione interjected, fighting to keep her voice steady and reasonable despite her own inner turmoil. "Their concerns aren''t entirely unreasonable. After all, whoever ced my name in the Goblet of Fire hasn''t been found. If their true intention was to bring shame upon Hogwarts, attacking their champions would be the best way."

    Harry''s forehead creased in that familiar way it did when he wanted to argue but couldn''t find the logical grounds to do so. His shoulders slumped in reluctant acknowledgment of Hermione''s point, the fight seeming to drain out of him. Across the table, Ron nced up briefly, but upon catching Hermione''s observant gaze, he quickly returned his attention to his barely-touched breakfast.

    The tense moment was broken by the familiar sound of beating wings as the morning mail arrived, hundreds of owls plunged from the enchanted ceiling in a graceful aerial ballet. A single envelope drifted down like an autumn leaf,nding precisely in front of Harry immediately lifting his dejected expression.

    "It''s from Sirius!" Harry eximed, his entire demeanor brightening as he recognized the handwriting. He tore into the envelope with barely contained excitement, his eyes racing across the parchment. "Sirius wants to discuss the champion situation with us in person!"

    Both Hermione and Ron leaned forward with interest as Harryid the letter t on the table, continuing his exnation with growing enthusiasm. "He says he can''t put everything in writing. He wants to meet face-to-face - it must be urgent because he''s asking us toe to Hogsmeade this Saturday. He''ll be waiting for us at the Three Broomsticks!"

    "But this isn''t an official Hogsmeade weekend, is it?" Hermione pointed out, her practical nature asserting itself even as she carefully examined Sirius''s letter, her eyes scanning each word as if searching for hidden meanings.

    Harry''s face lit up with a mischievous gleam. "Surely Professor Watson hasn''t managed to seal all the secret passages to Hogsmeade, has he?" His voice carried a note of barely contained excitement.

    The prospect of seeing his godfather had injected new life into him; since the term''s beginning, their contact had been limited to brief letters. The fact that Sirius suggested meeting them in Hogsmeade on a non-designated weekend seemed to carry an implicit approval of their asional rule-bending, something that clearly delighted Harry.

    The arrival of Sirius''s letter had provided Harry with something he desperately needed - a sense of purpose and direction. The dark cloud that had been hovering over him for days seemed to lift, reced by an almost palpable anticipation for the uing meeting.

    Hermione couldn''t quite match Harry''s optimism. While she doubted Sirius could offer any immediate solutions to their current predicament, she recognized that at this point, even the smallest gesture of support felt like a precious gift. She was particrly touched by Sirius''s involvement, knowing full well how demanding his new position as an Auror at the Ministry had be and she was very grateful that he was willing to make a special trip for this matter.

    Sirius''s supportive intervention had an almost magical effect on both Harry and Hermione''s spirits throughout the day. Even the sideways nces and whisperedments from other houses during their sses seemed to lose some of their sting, as if Sirius''s invisible presence served as a protective shield around them.

    The afternoon brought a temporary separation as Hermione''s schedule diverged from theirs. While she headed off to her additional sses, Harry and Ron made their way down to the Great Hall together, though the familiar journey felt somehow different,den with unspoken tension. Before dinner could properly begin, Harry excused himself for his daily training session on the grounds, a routine he had maintained with admirable discipline despite recent events.

    When Harry returned half an hourter, apanied by an equally exhausted Hermione, both of them glistening with sweat from their training, Ron''s absence from the Great Hall was immediately noticeable. The empty space where he usually sat seemed to draw Harry''s attention like a missing tooth.

    "Have you noticed something''s not quite right with Rontely?" Harry asked, his voice low and concerned as he dabbed at his forehead with a napkin, loosening his cor to cool off.

    Hermione''s hand froze mid-motion as she was wiping her own face, her bodynguage suddenly tense. Deliberately avoiding Harry''s searching gaze, she attempted to maintain a casual tone that wasn''t quite casual. "What exactly do you mean?"

    Harry fell silent, clearly struggling to exin the subtle changes he''d observed in Ron''s behavior. His time had been overwhelmingly upied with Hermione''s champion situation, but even through that fog of concern, he''d noticed something was amiss. His brow furrowed deeply as he mentally reviewed Ron''s recent behavior in the dormitory and during sses, trying to pin down exactly what felt wrong.

    "He seems... different," Harry finally managed, choosing his words carefully. "Like something''s eating at him. He barely talks anymore, at least not like he used to."

    Hermione''s response was to quickly shovel food into her mouth, hoping her obvious avoidance technique might discourage Harry''s line of questioning. But Harry''s steady gaze remained fixed on her, making it clear he wasn''t going to let this go without some kind of answer.

    "He''s probably... just worried about everything too," Hermione said vaguely, seizing her ss of pumpkin juice and taking an unnecessarily long drink, ignoring Harry who seemed unsatisfied with her response.

    The evening''s routine continued as dinner concluded, but neither Harry nor Hermione made their way back to the Gryffindormon room, knowing they still had Professor Watson''s ss to attend. The practical consideration of avoiding unnecessary trips up and down the castle''s numerous staircases kept them in the Great Hall, where they were joined by Neville and several girls from the Quidditch team, all of them rushing topletest-minute homework assignments before ss.

    As the Great Hall gradually emptied, this small group of Gryffindors gathered their belongings and hurried upstairs together, their footsteps echoing through the corridors as they made their way to the Physical Education ssroom.

    The route was familiar by now, but tonight something was different. Even from a considerable distance, they could hear the sound ofughter floating down the corridor - not the usual kind of pre-ss chatter, but something weirdly different, with Malfoy''s distinctive drawl clearly audible among the voices.

    Harry''s expression darkened immediately, his good mood from Sirius''s letter instantly vanishing. His instinctive nce toward Hermione confirmed that she had reached the same conclusion he had - whatever awaited them in that ssroom wasn''t going to be pleasant.

    The moment the Gryffindors crossed the threshold, theughter ceased as if cut off by a knife, reced by a heavy silence that seemed to press against their ears. The Slytherins stood in their usual clusters, but their expressions held something new - a collective look of malicious anticipation that made Harry''s stomach turn.

    Pansy Parkinson, her pug-like face twisted into an expression of cruel delight, stepped forward from the group. "Hey!" she called out, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she deliberately thrust her chest forward, drawing attention to something pinned there. "What do you think of this, Granger?"

    Hermione''s lips pressed into a thin line, while Harry''s face drained of color as he finally saw what was disyed on the badges the Slytherins wore so proudly. In that moment, something inside him snapped. He stepped forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper that carried more menace than any shout could have managed. "Take that stupid thing off, Parkinson, or I swear you''ll regret it!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0529 Tense

    0529 Tense

    Pansy Parkinson stood at the front of a sea of Slytherin students, each proudly disying identical silver and green badges that gleamed in the castle''s torchlight. nking her like personal guards, Draco and the hulking figure of Millicent Bulstrode stood with identical sneers stered across their faces. The badges, meticulously crafted to cause maximum humiliation, had an intricately designed beaver pattern that seemed innocent enough at first nce.

    However, when Pansy''s fingers pressed against the cold metal surface, the badge underwent a transformation that sent ripples of cruelughter through the Slytherin crowd.

    The beaver''s head began to sprout long, flowing brown hair that fell down in an unmistakable resemnce to Hermione''s signature bushy locks. The facial features twisted and morphed with magical precision until they formed an exaggerated caricature of Hermione''s face, though the transformation deliberately left the beaver''s buck teeth and fat body intact.

    Like a choreographed performance of cruelty, every Slytherin student simultaneously activated their badges, creating a sea of beaver-bodied creatures bearing Hermione''s distorted face.

    The corridor became a carnival of mockery, with Harry finding himself surrounded by these animated badges of ridicule.

    The response from the other houses only amplified the humiliation. The Hufflepuffs, typically known for their fairness and loyalty, betrayed those virtues as waves ofughter erupted from their groups.

    Even Ernie Macmin and Justin Finch-Fletchley, who had previously been on good terms with Harry and stood firmly by his side during various ordeals, now joined in the chorus of mockery. The Slytherins, encouraged by this unexpected support, doubled over with unrestrainedughter that bordered on maniacal, theirughter echoing off the stone walls with a haunting resonance.

    The Ravenw girls maintained their reputation for aloofness, standing like silent statues observing the unfolding drama with detachment.

    Yet within this sea of cruelty, there were small inds of decency.

    Cho Chang, whose opinion meant more to Harry than he cared to admit, distanced herself from the spectacle. She seemed to find the behavior inappropriate and was looking at Harry with concern.

    Luna, in her characteristic fashion, seemed to exist in a different reality altogether, her dreamy gaze was fixed upon the domed ceiling as if searching for invisible creatures only she could perceive. Additionally, Cedric, also as a champion, looked embarrassed and ufortable, unsure whether he should intervene and stop the Slytherins'' and his house''s behavior.

    A storm of emotions raged within Harry ¨C disbelief, fury, and a crushing sense of betrayal swirled together into a toxic mixture that was about to explode.

    <em>''These despicable Slytherin snakes hadn''t caused any trouble during Hagrid''s ss, yet they dared to collectively mock Hermione during Professor Watson''s physical education ss. Didn''t they understand the consequences of angering Professor Watson?!''</em>

    But the situation demanded immediate action ¨C Harry couldn''t stand by and watch Hermione''s dignity being trampled under foot. His voice, dense with barely contained rage, cut through the raucousughter like a sword through silk: "Take that stupid thing off, Parkinson, or I swear you''ll regret it!"

    "Don''t, Harry--"

    Before Harry''s threat could fully resound through the corridor, Hermione unexpectedly and swiftly intervened. She thrust her arm out in front of him, and despite facing the cruel mockery disyed on those badges, her voice remained calm and steady.

    "It''s not worth it. I know they''ll always find ways to prove their own shallowness and stupidity."

    "What''s the matter, Granger?"

    Pansy Parkinson''s response dripped with calcted malice as she thrust her chest forward. Her pug-like features contorted into an expression of false concern that made her underlying cruelty all the more apparent. She cooed with exaggerated sweetness.

    "Surely someone as brilliant as you can most certainly appreciate our creative support? Don''t you just adore how we''ve captured your most... distinctive features? These charming beaver teeth could be quite useful, you know - perhaps they''ll serve as an extra shield when you''re facing whatever dangers await in the tournament!"

    The sheer viciousness of the taunt achieved what the badges alone could not.

    Hermione''s carefully maintainedposure cracked slightly, her fingers curling into tight fists as tears began to gather in her eyes, catching the light like tiny crystals.

    The sight of this pushed Harry dangerously close to his breaking point. Only the fact that Parkinson was a girl prevented him from transforming his swelling fury into physical action. His fingers itched to introduce his fist to her ugly smug face, an urge he struggled mightily to suppress.

    When Harry spoke again, his voice had transformed into something barely recognizable ¨C low, dangerous, and trembling with barely contained rage.

    "I''ll say this onest time--" He paused, the weight of his anger making each word slow and heavy. If they had directed their cruelty at him, perhaps he could have weathered it better; years at Hogwarts had hardened him to Slytherin''s particr brand of malice. But watching Hermione endure such calcted humiliation sparked something far darker within him. "Take off that ridiculous badge."

    Draco chose this moment to step forward, his facial features were arranged in an expression of practiced amusement. His movement was deliberately casual, yet suggested he had been waiting for precisely this moment.

    "And what if we don''t feel like it, Potter?" His lips curved into that familiar slight disdainful smile. "What do you n to do about it?"

    The air crackled with tension as Harry''s wand appeared in his hand with lightning speed, but he wasn''t alone in his reaction. Behind him, the Weasley twins, Fred and George, moved in perfect synchronization, their wands emerging as if choreographed. Angelina and Ginny followed suit, creating a wall of raised wands all targeting the Slytherin students.

    The Hufflepuff students collectively inhaled sharply, their earlier amusement evaporating in the face of potential violence. Rather than intervene, however, they began backing away with practiced efficiency, clearing what they clearly expected to be a battlefield. Their movement created a semicircle of empty space, like an arena prepared for a foreseeable sh.

    Seeing this, Malfoy, Parkinson, and their group didn''t appear irritated by the provocation. Instead of backing down, Malfoy''s group appeared almost pleased by the esction. Millicent Bulstrode went so far as to remove her badge and ce it atop her head with exaggerated gestures, positioning it like a crown where it would be even more visible to the enraged Gryffindors.

    "Don''t!" Hermione''s shriek pierced through the tension. She burst forward from the group with surprising speed, positioning herself between the two hostile parties with her arms spread wide, her back to the Slytherins. "Put your wands down, Harry! Don''t do anything!"

    "Not until they remove those badges that insult you!"

    Harry''s green eyes shed with fire as he red at Malfoy.

    "Don''t fall for it, Harry, and all of you - can''t you see? This is a trap!" Hermione''s words tumbled out with urgency, her chest heaving with the effort of her emotional plea. "They''re waiting for you to use your wands!"

    Her breathing became more rapid as she continued, "Professor Watson told us that students in physical education ss are absolutely forbidden from using wands during conflicts in the castle. Otherwise, he''ll give extremely severe punishment to anyone involved in the conflict. Trust me, it won''t be just detention or losing points - he might even expel you from this ss!"

    Hermione''s words crashed over the Gryffindors like a bucket of ice water, instantly dousing their heated emotions with cold reality. They all remembered - Professor Watson had indeed said that!

    Harry, still trembling with barely contained fury caught a fleeting look of disappointment on Malfoy''s face, seemingly confirming Hermione''s theory.

    The calcted nature of the Slytherins'' trap became embarrassingly clear: they had orchestrated this entire confrontation knowing exactly how it would escte, counting on the Gryffindors'' notorious tendency to act first and thinkter.

    The price of being excluded from Professor Watson''s ss was far more than anyone could bear. Harry''s jaw clenched so tight he could hear his teeth grinding, the realization of just how expertly Malfoy and his cronies had manipted the situation making his blood boil even hotter.

    "What''s wrong, Potter?" Draco''s voice carried the silky smoothness of someone who knew they held the upper hand. His pale eyes glittered with malice and seeing their carefully nned scheme about to fail, Draco, harboring frustration, continued to mock sarcastically, "Starting to like our creativity, are you?"

    Pansy Parkinson eager to twist the knife deeper, seized the moment with predatory instinct. She stepped forward with exaggerated elegance, pulling out a velvet bag that jingled musically with the sound of more badges within. "I have plenty more here. Would you like one?"

    While Hermione continued her desperate campaign to convince her housemates to lower their wands, Cedric finally seemed unable to watch any longer. He pushed through the crowd and said to the Slytherins with furrowed brows, "This isn''t necessary, is it? We''re all part of Hogwarts, and we''re all in this ss together. Professor Watson certainly wouldn''t want to see us fighting among ourselves."

    "But we''re supporting you, Diggory!" Malfoy''s response came with a smile that bore an unsettling resemnce to Igor Karkaroff''s calcting expressions. Theparison became even more distinct as he smoothly relieved Pansy of her velvet bag.

    With the grace like that of a practiced politician, he glided past Cedric toward the gathered Hufflepuff and Ravenw students, shaking the bag enticingly. "Anyone wants to show more support for Diggory?"

    Truthfully, no one was foolish enough to miss that Malfoy and his Slytherins had specifically targeted Granger and Potter, using Cedric''s name as a convenient shield for their malice.

    Yet this transparent maniption didn''t prevent several Hufflepuff students from showing interest in the badges. Their eagerness spoke volumes about the underlying tensions between the houses, especially since they''d heard that Hogwarts'' victory would be determined by thebined scores of Cedric and Granger in thepetition. The thought that she might drag down Hogwarts'' overall standing had clearly taken root among the Hufflepuffs, providing room for Malfoy''s conspiracies.

    "Ferret Face!" The voice of either Fred or George Weasley cut through the tension from behind Harry. The sound of sleeves being roughly pushed up followed, a clear indicator that wands weren''t the only means of settling scores. The twins'' readiness to resort to physical confrontation reminded Harry that magical dueling wasn''t the only way to teach Malfoy a lesson, especially given his tendency to provoke conflict at every opportunity.

    Just as Harry and the twins were rolling up their sleeves, preparing to rush forward and teach Malfoy a proper lesson but before anyone could act on these rising tensions, the situation took an unexpected turn that would leave all present speechless. A sharp, resounding metallic ng shattered the atmosphere, its echo bouncing off the stone walls with startling rity!

    <strong>CLANG!</strong>

    The sound caused Harry to turn his head around, seeking its source, but before he couldplete the motion, a dark blur apanied by a menacing metallic gleam streaked past him with an audible whoosh. His eyes struggled to track the movement, barely registering a figure charging toward Malfoy with surprising speed, wielding something that caught the light.

    Time seemed topress into a single moment as the figure covered the distance to Malfoy in what felt like the blink of an eye. When everyone realized who it was, their collective shock manifested in dropped jaws and widened eyes. Standing before them was perhaps thest person anyone would have expected to take such dramatic action - Neville, wielding one of the ceremonial swords on the suits of armor lining the ssroom walls.

    "Hand over those badges this instant, Malfoy!" Neville''s voice, usually timid and uncertain, now carried a fierce roar that matched the de trembling few feet from Malfoy''s suddenly pale forehead. "Or we''ll find out if your father''s influence extends to protecting you from cold steel!"

    His face had flushed a deep crimson, and his words emerged through clenched teeth in a tone that no one had ever heard from him before. The alteration was so unexpected, that it left even the Slytherins momentarily speechless.

    Meanwhile, just outside the ssroom door, Bryan, who had witnessed this scene, raised an eyebrow.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0530 Next Stage

    0530 Next Stage

    At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, conflicts between young wizards were asmon as floating candles in the Great Hall. In these halls, where teenage emotions ran as wild as pixies in Cornish gardens, it wasn''t unusual to witness students drawing their wands in heated moments.

    The impulsive nature of teenage years,bined with the potent mix of magical ability and house rivalries, often led to confrontations that sparked and crackled with tension. When multiple students were embroiled in disputes and there wasn''t time for the formal drawing of wands, even throwing punches wasn''t considered particrly shocking ¨C though it was certainly frowned upon by the Slytherins and their more proper pure-blood families.

    However, in their four eventful years at Hogwarts, neither Harry nor Hermione had ever witnessed anything quite as extraordinary as seeing Neville¨C the usually timid fe who could barely handle a wand without causing catastrophe ¨C wielding a gleaming sword and pointing it directly at another student''s forehead.

    Even the mocking Slytherins were struck dumb by Neville''s disy of courage ¨C or perhaps madness. They stood there staring nkly at the panting, red-eyed Longbottom, collectively frozen in astonishment. The silence that fell over the room was brief, and itsted only moments before an explosion ofughter shattered it like broken ss.

    "What in Merlin''s name do you think you''re doing, Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson''s shrill voice cut through the air as she doubled over. Her pug-like features contorted with cruel humor as she gasped between fits ofughter. "You actually think you can defeat Draco with some ancient piece of rusty metal? Oh, look at yourself ¨C you look more ridiculous than a troll in dress robes!"

    The Slytherin students, normally quick to rally around their unofficial prince, Draco Malfoy, were too consumed by their own hysteria to even considering to his defense. Tears ofughter streamed down their faces, some clutching their sides as though their ribs might crack from the force of theirughter.

    The Gryffindors, usually quick to jump to the defense of one of their own, maintained an eerie silence. Only Hermione''s voice tinged with sadness broke through the noise, her words carrying deep concern. "Please don''t do this, Neville!" she called out, her voice trembling with emotion. "He''s not worth it!"

    Among all those present in the tension-filled ssroom, it was perhaps Draco who best understood the true seriousness of the situation unfolding before him.

    While Longbottom''s stance might have appearedical to his housemates there was something in those red-rimmed eyes that made Draco uncertain. The cold glint of the de,bined with the abnormal fury radiating from the usually timid Longbottom, made Draco purse his pale lips, his normally confident expression wavering with growing uncertainty.

    "What exactly is going on here?"

    The scene came to an abrupt halt as Bryan''s voice cut through the chaos.

    The young wizards had been so fixated by Longbottom''s dramatic disy that no one had noticed Professor Watson standing at the doorway for a while.

    The moment his voice reached their ears, the atmosphere in the room transformed instantly. The Slytherin students, looking suddenly nervous, hastily tapped their badges, their movements almost hriously synchronized. The Hufflepuff and Ravenw students, who had been watching from the sidelines with varying degrees of interest, sobered immediately, their expressions bing carefully neutral. Neville, his moment of unprecedented bravery apparently punctured, lowered the sword with trembling hands, his face flushing an even deeper shade of red.

    Harry''s group, seizing the opportunity presented by the Professor''s arrival, turned eagerly to Bryan. Their voices ovepped in usations about Slytherin''stest ''misdeeds''.

    "We didn''t do anything wrong!" Draco''s voice rose above the noise, his tone dripping with carefully crafted innocence. He managed to sound simultaneously offended and just as he shouted, "We were just showing our support for Granger in our own unique way!"

    "You''re talking absolute nonsense, Malfoy!" Harry exploded, his green eyes shing with anger behind his sses. He pointed an usatory finger at the badge on Malfoy''s chest, suddenly realizing something that made his blood boil even hotter.

    Not only was Malfoy not attempting to hide the badge but he was actually puffing out his chest proudly, as if inviting Professor Watson to take a closer look. This unusual behavior set off warning bells in Harry''s mind, and narrowing his eyes, he noticed that the Slytherins'' badges had undergone yet another transformation.

    Now they looked likepletely innocent badges ¨C their badges were disying a proper normal photo of Hermione, surrounded by glittering text that read: "Hermione Granger - Hogwarts'' True Champion!"

    "Professor Watson, it wasn''t like this just moments ago!" Harry stood speechless for a heartbeat before finding his voice again, his words tumbling out in a rush of frustration.

    The other Gryffindor students crowded around Professor Watson like moths to a me. Their voices ovepped as they vividly described the badge''s three malicious transformations, painting a picture of the Slytherins'' cruel mockery with their words.

    Bryan''s eyes flicked toward Draco''s carefully constructed mask of innocence, and he couldn''t help but mentally recognize the boy''s growing wit ¨C Draco''s skill at crafting intricate traps for others had clearly reached new heights. He had managed to create a situation where any usation against him would seem like petty house rivalry to an outsider.

    Of course, as a professor at Hogwarts, Bryan knew he had to maintain both his authority and the appearance of impartiality, even when faced with such obvious maniption.

    Under the eager and expectant observation of Harry and his fellow Gryffindors, Bryan expressionlessly moved through the ssroom. As he passed by Longbottom, who was still gripping the sword with white-knuckled hands, he took a moment to examine the usually timid boy''s stance. Something in what he saw caused a small smile to appear across his face.

    "Not bad, quite convincing--" Hemented, his voice carrying a tinge of genuine appreciation that most of the students missed entirely.

    Draco, misinterpreting Bryan''s words as mockery, burst out with a sharpugh. However, his amusement died a swift death when Bryan''s sharp gaze settled on him. Draco immediately straightened his posture, his spine stiffening as though hit with a Petrification Charm, as he sensed an unusual and unsettling pressure emanating from the professor.

    The air in the ssroom seemed to thicken as Bryan made a simple gesture with his finger.

    <strong>Whoosh--</strong> The bag in Draco''s hand suddenly flew across the space between them, sailing through the air with absolute uracy into Bryan''s waiting grasp. Bryan took out a badge from the bag, cing it in his palm as though it were a particrly interesting specimen in Herbology ss.

    He examined it with careful attention, turning it this way and that in the flickering torchlight before speaking in a cold voice that could have frozen the ck Lake.

    "Who is responsible for creating this?"

    Draco lowered his head, his facial features showing the internal struggle as clearly as the words on a parchment. His eyes were now filled with uncertainty as he weighed the consequences of truth versus deception. However, before he could reach a decision, a small, pale hand rose from among the cluster of green robes.

    "It was me, Professor Watson--" The voice belonged to Astoria Greengrass, the youngest member among the gathered Slytherin group. Despite her youth, she still tried to maintain herposure under Professor Watson''s sharp gaze.

    "The transfiguration work is quite impressive--" Bryan said with a slight nod that sent ripples of disbelief through the watching Gryffindors. They stared at their professor''s back as though he had suddenly started speaking Mermish, unable to process that he seemed to beplimenting such malicious behavior.

    However, before Draco could show even a flicker of triumph across his face, Professor Watson''s next words deted any budding celebration like a punctured balloon.

    "I remember instructing all of you to support and believe in all school champions without reservation. Even if you can''t manage that basic level of school unity, you should, at the very least, refrain from actively hindering them."

    His words fell into the silence like stones into a still pond. "I want to be perfectly clear ¨C if I see anyone wearing these items within the castle walls again, I will ensure that whatever challenges await our champions in the first task, you will face them as well."

    The threat, delivered with such casual certainty, sent visible shivers through the gathered students. However, the tension was briefly broken by an unexpected voice.

    "What exactly are the champions going to face in the first task, Professor?"

    The Weasley twins were good at seizing opportunities, and George immediately raised his hand to ask.

    "Oh?" Bryan turned around, his face expressionless but eyes twinkling, "If I were to tell you, would you be able to keep it a secret?"

    George''s excitement momentarily wavered as he considered the question, but it quickly resurged as he eximed with enthusiasm, "I swear on my honor as a Weasley, Professor, I''ll keep it secret!"

    Not just George, but every student in the ssroom was excited temporarily forgetting the earlier conflicts and eagerly watched Professor Watson, hoping to learn some ssified information in advance.

    "I made the very same oath, Mr. Weasley--" Bryan''s cheerfulughter echoed through the room, triggering a wave of disappointed sighs that seemed to dete the entire ss.

    "Very well, the time for jokes has passed--" Bryan pped his hands, gathering all the students before him. Looking at their faces flushed red in the firelight, he calmly said,

    "Over these past two months, you have all practiced protective spells crucial in Wizard duels, and from my observations, the majority of you have met or exceeded the basic requirements--" His words were interrupted by a metallic protest from the corner of the room.

    ng, ng-- The suit of armor lined against the ssroom wall seemed to voice its disapproval at the students.

    "Ah, yes--" Bryan tapped his forehead in a gesture of sudden memory. "Mr. Longbottom, please return the sword to its ce ¨C it is not yours--"

    Amid a fresh wave of snickers and barely suppressed giggles, Neville, his face now resembling a ripe tomato, hurried back to the suit of armor. His nervousness was obvious as he struggled multiple times to return the sword to its scabbard, each failed attempt adding to his embarrassment.

    In his flustered state, he managed to catch his robe on the armor''s gauntlet, creating a noticeable tear. The snickers grew louder, but when he finally managed to rejoin his fellow Gryffindors, Hermione quietly raised her wand and repaired his robe.

    "As I was saying," Bryan continued, drawing attention back to himself, "we need to implement some adjustments to our curriculum moving forward. Starting next week, Friday morning''s final period will be dedicated to practicing dodging exercises against dungbombs and reinforcing and reviewing the magical techniques you''ve already mastered. Wednesday''s ss, however, will take on a new focus ¨C practicalbat training."

    "Practicalbat?!" The words burst from Hannah''s lips before she could stop them. When she noticed Professor Watson''s attention turning to her, her cheeks turned red and she stumbled over her next words, "I mean... practicalbat... but who would be my partner?"

    Professor Watson''s announcement sent a surge of excitement through the ssroom.

    The majority of students, rather than showing fear, showed varying degrees of eagerness. Those who had been participating in the physical education sses carried themselves with a barely contained sense of superiority. They all more or less wanted to prove they were much better than others, but since Professor Watson strictly prohibited them from using wands when fighting against others, they could only enjoy others'' envious nces when demonstrating their newly mastered spells. They had been waiting for a chance to actually duel with others to know just how powerful they were!

    "Before I address that particr question--" Bryan''s serious tone cut through the excited murmuring. "There is an important matter we must address. You will need to form teams, but not based on houses. Instead, you will create small groups of three members each. These teams can include members from different houses."

    His eyes swept across the room, taking in the mixture of surprised and thoughtful expressions. "I emphasize that these groups will not be temporary arrangements. They will remain constant throughout our uing lessons and potentially elsewhere, in situations where you might face real challenges together. Therefore, I strongly urge you to choose your teammates with careful consideration of both their abilities and yourpatibility with them."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0531 Lessons (Large-Chapter)

    0531 Lessons (Large-Chapter)

    Bryan''s gaze swept across the small cluster of Ravenw students. After several thoughtful moments, during which he seemed to be weighing his words carefully, he cleared his throat and spoke again.

    "I should rify something important, While I initially mentioned three people per group, we can be flexible on that point. Four members would work equally well for what we''re nning¡ª"

    No one moved. The young wizards and witches hesitated, their eyes darting between their ssmates as they processed this new information. The careful, almost cautionary note in Professor Watson''s voice hadn''t gone unnoticed, and it made them all the more hesitant to make any rushed decisions.

    Among them, Parvati Patil''s face fell noticeably as she watched her twin sister Padma, who seemed unwilling to push the issue of forming a group together.

    In the midst of this hesitation, Harry immediately stood with Hermione; they would undoubtedly form a team together. However, their group stillcked one person. If Ron were here, they would be perfect. Harry and Hermione exchanged nces, both feeling somewhat dejected.

    The Weasley twins, Fred and George, showed none of their ssmates'' hesitation. With their characteristic enthusiasm and mischievous grins, they quickly pulled Lee Jordan into their group and after doing so, they eagerly watched Professor Watson, waiting for his further instructions.

    Across the room, a different kind of drama was unfolding among the Slytherin students. Draco turned hesitantly, immediately catching Pansy''s eager, almost desperate gaze fixed upon him. Her hopeful expression made him ufortable, and he deliberately chose not to recognize it immediately.

    At this moment, he somewhat missed Crabbe and Goyle, though these two were among the first to drop out of Physical Education and even if he had them in his group, they might just be a burden.

    The political dynamics of Slytherin house was ying out in silent exchanges: Zabini and Nott tactically avoided making eye contact with Draco, while Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode had already formed their group. Draco''s frustration with this was shown in a resigned grumble.

    "Very well¡ª" he drawled, his voice carrying a note of barely concealed irritation as he finally turned towards Pansy. "We can work together, Pansy, but I''m warning you now ¨C if you repeat your performance fromst year''s Defense Against the Dark Arts ss..."

    He left the threat hanging, but Pansy''s response came quick and emotionally keen. "Oh, I swear I won''t!" she eximed, her voice dense with promise before quickly shifting to a more practical concern. "But Draco, who should we choose as our third member? With Crabbe and Goyle not here¡ª"

    "I was just considering our options!" Draco said impatiently. Despite the theoretical possibility of choosing teammates from other houses, his pride and family traditions needed to select from within Slytherin. His gaze swept across the ssroom, observing his whispering ssmates before finally settling on Astoria Greengrass. His brow furrowed slightly as he pondered this choice.

    Astoria was the youngest member of the Slytherin group in this ss, and no one would choose someone who might appear vulnerable when facing unknown challenges. However, Draco hadn''t forgotten how quickly and skillfully she had produced those badges meant to humiliate Granger ¨C badges that had unexpectedly earned Professor Watson''s praise.

    Additionally, the Greengrass and Malfoy families had been friends for generations, and his father had also instructed him to look after the Greengrass sisters.

    "Astoria," he called out, his tone brooking no argument, "you''ll be joining our team." Draco gave the order, dismissing Pansy''s immediate sounds of protest and disbelief with cold indifference.

    As the next ten minutes stretched, the remaining students gradually sorted themselves into groups. After some discussion, Harry and Hermione finally decided to include Ginny, who had been hopefully watching them for a while. However, as the situation became clear their attention was soon drawn to a lonely figure ¨C Neville standing alone and isted from the others.

    This sight was both unexpected yet understandable.

    Neville''s struggles with practical magic had be increasingly apparent since they began practicing spells in the PE ss. His performance in Charms and Transfiguration also remained consistently poor, and even Professor Watson''s innovative teaching methods hadn''t managed to break through whatever barrier held Neville back from reaching his possible potential.

    The weight of being a burden to others had clearly settled heavily on Neville''s shoulders. He stood alone, his head bowed in resignation and embarrassment. When Hermione noticed this sight, it was too much for her, and she called out without hesitation, "Neville,e join us! We''re still short of one person!!"

    The invitation caught Nevillepletely off guard. He looked up at Hermione with wide, disbelieving eyes that shimmered with barely contained tears. He had thought he was destined to be alone. His voice, when he found it, was dense with emotion and self-doubt. "But I''ll only hold you all back..."

    "Don''t be ridiculous, Neville!" Harry interrupted firmly, taking the initiative to physically guide Neville into their group. His smile was genuine and encouraging as he added, "That sword move you pulled off earlier was brilliant. Though honestly, you should have aimed it right at Malfoy''s neck¡ª"

    The joke seeded in making an uncertain smile on Neville''s face, lifting some of the weight from his shoulders.

    With their team finallyplete, Harry turned his attention back to Professor Watson, eager to begin. However, his enthusiasm suffered an immediate blow when he noticed Cedric had managed to convince Cho Chang to join his team. Harry''s excited expression froze instantly, reced by a sinking feeling in his stomach that felt like his internal organs were being twisted into knots.

    <em>''This is embarrassing!''</em> Harry thought bitterly, shooting resentful nces at Cedric while trying to maintain hisposure.

    "As I mentioned before¡ª" Professor Watson''s gentle voice cut through the chatter, drawing everyone''s attention. His smile was warm but carried a hint of seriousness as he addressed the gathered students, "It''s crucial that you developplete trust in your teammates. You need to believe, without doubt, that they can protect you even when your life hangs in the bnce¡ª"

    A hushed silence fell over the young wizards and witches. They couldn''t quite understand what Professor Watson meant, but they sensed the special meaning in his tone.

    "Now then¡ª" Bryan pped his hands again, "Everyone should return to their positions. We''ll be conducting ourbat training within my Spiritual world. After all," he added with a touch of humor, "if I were to send a group of injured young wizards to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey would eithermit suicide or kill me first and thenmit suicide¡ª"

    The tension broke asughter rippled through the group. Even Hermione, who had been dwelling on her concerns about the Tournament''s dangerous tasks, found herself briefly distracted by the joke.

    The transition into the familiar pure white expanse of the Spiritual world came with its usual momentary disorientation. As the brief dizziness passed, the young wizards quickly gathered with their respective teams, anticipation building for whatever challengesy ahead.

    "We''ll need one team to demonstrate for the others," Bryan announced as he walked slowly to face the assembled students, his smile encouraging but somehow mysterious. "Any volunteers?"

    Experience had taught the students to be wary of Professor Watson''s seemingly innocent requests, and most held back. However, the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, their enthusiasm undiminished, raised their hands high without hesitation.

    "Excellent," Bryan nodded, his smile widening slightly. "Step forward, please. You''ll be facing me as your opponent¡ª"

    The announcement came as no real surprise to anyone present. The students had suspected as much when they entered the Spiritual world, knowing that no small group of young wizards, no matter how talented, could truly pose a challenge to Professor Watson. Yet the rare opportunity to test themselves against one of the most powerful wizard in the Wizarding world had Fred and George practically bouncing with excitement.

    "Time to settle that old score, brother!" Fred whispered eagerly.

    "Absolutely! Let''s show him how much stronger we''ve be!" George replied, both of them referring to their memorable encounter with Professor Watson in the Great Hall, where he had thoroughly humbled them in front of everyone.

    "Before we begin¡ª" Bryan''s voice remained gentle, though his smile now carried a hint of warning, "I need to make something clear. While dueling typically carries risks of injury or death, and while actual death isn''t possible within my Spiritual world, I believe in maintaining authenticity in our Duel practice. Therefore, you will experience a degree of pain feedback from any injuries you sustain. I suggest you prepare yourselves mentally for this reality."

    The anticipation was charged as the young wizards formed a tight circle around Professor Watson, their faces showing a mix of excitement and nervousness. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan, practically bouncing on their toes with barely contained enthusiasm, positioned themselves at the forefront, eager to participate in the duel immediately. However, Professor Watson continued his careful exnation, his voice carrying clearly through the expectant silence.

    "In the interest of fairness, I''ll be constraining my magical abilities to a reasonable level and won''t use any magic beyond what you might usibly encounter. However," his eyes gleamed with a hint of something that made several students shift ufortably, "I will also be removing certain restrictive parameters. For example, while Apparition is forbidden within Hogwarts'' boundaries, I''ll be using it freely during our duel. So, you need to be mentally prepared--"

    Harry''s tongue clicked against his teeth as vivid memories flooded his mind¡ªrecollections of his summer experience with Professor Watson''s Apparition. His stomach churned slightly at the memory of that distinctly ufortable sensation of beingpressed through what felt like an impossibly narrow rubber tube.

    Both Hermione and Cedric maintained unwavering focus on Professor Watson, their eyes tracking his every movement within the circle. For them, this demonstration held particr significance - both were at a crucial juncture, desperately seeking any knowledge or insight that might help them ovee the formidable challenges thaty ahead in the Tournament.

    After a brief period of rification for those unfamiliar with Apparition, during which the concept of instantaneous magical transportation was exined in detail, the atmosphere grew thick with anticipation. The prospect of witnessing such advanced magics only increased the excitement surrounding the impending duel.

    Observing the three still-giggling students before him, Bryan pressed his lips together, his patience evident but tinged with resignation. "I must emphasize," he said, his voice carrying a weight that should have given them a wake-up call, "that you need to prepare yourselves mentally. This will not be a friendly demonstration or practice session. This will be a true duel, and once we begin, I will not show the same consideration you''re ustomed to. What happens may well exceed your current expectations¡ª"

    "Bring it on, Professor!" Fred eximed with a confident grin that spoke of youth''s eternal optimism. "We''re more than ready for whatever you''ve got!"

    "Very well¡ª" Bryan sighed resignedly. He knew well that no amount of verbal warning could match the harsh lesson reality was about to deliver. After instructing the spectating students to maintain a safe distance, maintain absolute silence, and not interfere with the duel, he calmly announced, "You may begin¡ª"

    To Bryan''s mild surprise, the twins'' team didn''tunch an immediate assault as might have been expected. Instead, the three young wizards lined up shoulder to shoulder, wands raised in ssic dueling positions as they sized up their opponent with what they clearly thought was tactical consideration.

    "Where do you reckon we should start?" Lee Jordan''s eager voice carried to George, his wand twirling between fingers.

    "Let me think¡ª" George rolled his neck with theatrical casualness,pletely unfazed by Professor Watson''s expressionless face. "Which spell would give us the best show?"

    The gathered crowd expected the duel to conclude swiftly, even with Professor Watson''s self-imposed limitations. However, not a single soul could have predicted the shocking manner in which it would unfold!

    <strong>CRACK!</strong>

    The sharp sound of Apparition split the air like a thunderp, causing the three young wizards to flinch. In that instant, Professor Watson, who had been standing several dozen feet before them, simply vanished into thin air. The sudden disappearance left them momentarily confused, their confident expressions faltering. But before their minds could process this development, a chilling whistle of iing magic from behind made their hair stand on end!

    Their months of rigorous training hadn''t been entirely in vain - in that fraction of a second, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan recognized the imminent attack from behind. They attempted evasive maneuvers, but that crucial moment of initial hesitation had already cost them their best chance at avoiding the iing spell.

    <em><strong>Whoosh!</strong></em>

    Fred and Lee Jordan threw themselves forward in desperate dives. Their fortune held only in that Professor Watson''s initial assault wasn''t aimed at them - instead, it targeted George with lethal precision.

    A piercing scream of agony ripped through the silence of Bryan''s Spiritual space!

    Fred and Lee Jordan, havingpleted their forward rolls, turned back to witness a sight that would haunt their nightmares for years toe.

    A massive stone spike, nearly two feet in length, had brutally impaled George''s thigh, pinning him to the ground like a butterfly in a collection. George thrashed in absolute agony, his blood painting dreadful crimson streaks across the pure white ground!

    In that instant, all the watching students felt as though they''d been doused with arctic water in the depths of winter. Bone-chilling terror seized them all, sending violent tremors through their bodies. Many opened their mouths to scream, but terror had wrapped ironed fingers around their throats, strangling any sound before it could escape!

    "What in Merlin''s name are you doing?!" Fred''s furious roar shattered the horrified silence. He and Lee unconsciously moved to rush to George''s aid, whose face had gone chalk-white from pain. George might have fainted if the pain hadn''t been significantly weakened but Professor Watson raised his wand again. A gray beam erupted from its tip, transforming in air into a viciously sharp crescent that spun toward Fred and Lee with lethal intent!

    <strong>Bang!</strong>

    Raw survival instinct forced both Fred and Lee to dodge, but theirck of coordination made it disastrous - standing together, they chose to dodge in opposite directions, one diving left while the other went right. As a result, their heads collided violently!

    The impact was so severe that neither of them even had time to cry out before they lost consciousness. Their bodies flickered like faulty television screens before vanishingpletely from Professor Watson''s Spiritual world, leaving behind only the echoing silence of their defeat!

    Bryan''s lips curled into a cold smile. With a casual wave of his hand, he disced the stone spike from George''s leg, and thest remaining member of the trio followed his teammates into oblivion.

    "These three have died by my hand¡ª" Bryan''s words fell like lead weights into the silence as he turned in a slow circle, his cold gaze boring into each terrified student in turn. Not one dared to meet his eyes, their heads bowing in instinctive submission.

    "I trust," he continued, his voice as sharp as a de, "that none of you still have the delusion that dueling is simply an entertaining skill to boast about over butterbeers?"

    Professor Watson''s sses had never been known for their ease. Every student who had persevered to this point had endured significant hardships, pushing through physical and magical challenges that had wrecked many of their peers.

    After surviving those initial trials, most had developed a certain pride in their resilience, especially with the recent changes to Physical Education in the new academic year. But tonight, watching their ssmates fall so easily, thoughts of abandoning the course resurfaced again!

    Real dueling wasn''t about spectacr disys - it was about genuine brutality! And they have learnt it the harsh way.

    Though George''s body had vanished with the others, perhaps to make an example Professor Watson had deliberately left the pool of blood staining the pure white ground, a sight that pierced everyone''s eyes.

    "When facing danger, when locked in a life-or-death struggle, pain bes the least of your concerns¡ª" Professor Watson''s voice seemed to rise from the depths of some frozen hell, each word carrying enough chill to freeze the marrow in their bones.

    "You will face the possibility of watching your loved ones and friends fall at any moment. You will face despair. You will face death. Don''t expect miracles to happen in such situations!"

    Professor Watson''s voice thundered, each word like hardened steel.

    "Caution, courage, determination to survive, teamwork, and well-honed skills ¡ª these are the only things that can help you defeat your enemies and win a chance at survival!"

    The oppressive silence was suddenly broken by a stifled sob. Though his mind was swimming in a fog of shock, Harry''s head turned automatically toward the sound - it was Cho Chang, her hand was pressed desperately against her mouth as tears of terror traced silent paths down her cheeks. Harry opened his mouth but closed it again after seeing that even Cedric, who stood right next to Cho, remained silent.

    No one had the luxury of giving up. They had to see it through to the end.

    Hermione finally raised her head, staring nkly at Professor Watson. Never in all their time at Hogwarts had she found him so utterly terrifying as she did in this moment!

    While this method of teaching clearly vited numerous school regtions, possibly even magicalws, Hermione couldn''t bring herself to voice any objection. She understood with crystal rity that Professor Watson was teaching them something beyond just spells and techniques - he was preparing them for the brutal reality to survive future dangers.

    Caution, courage, determination to survive, teamwork, skills.

    As Hermione silently repeated Professor Watson''s ''key points'', she felt something shift within her heart. A strange new strength began welling up from deep inside her, and the paralyzing fear of the Triwizard Tournament''s challenges ahead seemed to rapidly disappear.

    Bryan observed the gathered students intently, his spiritual space allowing him to sense the subtle changes in their projected consciousnesses. He noted Hermione''s transformation with particr interest, and stopped before her but his expression still remained cold.

    "Tonight, every team must face their trial, Now, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley - step forward. Your moment has arrived¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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 Trekking Trip

    Trekking Trip

    Hello everyone,

    I wanted to give you all a heads-up: I''ll be away on a trekking trip from Monday to Friday. I will prepare and schedule chapters for Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. However, there will be no new chapter updates on Thursday and Friday.

    Thank you for your understanding, and updates will be regr when i return.

 0532 Talents

    0532 Talents

    Under ordinary circumstances, Draco would have been practically vibrating with malicious delight at the prospect of watching Potter suffer. Simrly, the Hufflepuffs, still basking in Cedric''s selection as champion, would have cast schadenfreudeden nces at Hermione Granger, the know-it-all who shared their house''s moment of glory.

    However, the shocking brutality of Professor Watson''s demonstration¡ªthe sight of George''s leg being viciously impaled, the crimson pool of blood still staining the white ground surface¡ªhad effectively stripped away such petty thoughts. The memory of that ferocity,bined with the knowledge that any of them could be next, had a sobering effect on even the most spiteful among them.

    The circle of young wizards instinctively widened further, their robes rustling against the ground as they shambled backward. None wanted to risk being sttered with blood if Potter or his teammates meet a fate simr to George''s.

    Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Neville stepped forward; their faces drained of all color. They stood beneath Professor Watson''s prating gaze, a gaze that seemed to pierce through flesh and bone to examine their very souls. Try as they might, they couldn''t fully understand the murderous intent lurking behind those nk eyes.

    Even Hermione and Harry, usually so confident in their abilities, harbored no illusions about performing brilliantly in this trial. Before being summoned by Professor Watson, Hermione had felt a surge of determination, a familiar confidence in her intellectual abilities. But now, standing before him in this makeshift battleground, she found her usually razor-sharp mind failing her spectacrly.

    She desperately searched through her mental catalogue of spells and defensive techniques, frantically trying to recall every lesson from his course, only to realize with growing horror how little would their training help for this level ofbat.

    "What should we do?" Harry''s whispered question came through gritted teeth, his voice tight with barely controlled fear. His fingers gripped his wand so tightly his knuckles had turned white, and a thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead beneath his ck hair.

    Hermione''s throat constricted, unable to form a response. Into this moment of paralyzing uncertainty, Professor Watson''s soft voice sliced through the air like a silk-wrapped de: "Well, are you ready?"

    Streams of sweat poured down Neville''s temples, his round face flushed with anxiety as he clutched his wand in a tight grip. In a disy that might have beenical under different circumstances, his nervousness had led him to grasp the wand''s handle with both hands, wielding it like some medieval sword.

    The sight would have normally drawn snickers from their ssmates, but no one dared tough now. Hermione, Harry, and Ginny maintained their rigid silence, their jaws clenched so tightly it seemed their teeth might crack, their eyes were fixed unwaveringly on Professor Watson''s hands, their muscles were coiled and ready to dodge at the slightest twitch of his movement.

    Bryan surveyed the four small figures standing before him in their rigid line, and released a slight sigh. His expression held a mixture of disappointment and something almost like pity.

    "What''s this?" he questioned, his voice carrying a note of weary resignation. "Have you learned nothing from witnessing the fate of your predecessors?"

    <em>''What?''</em>

    Hermione''s eyes widened with confusion, her mind struggling to process his meaning. But Harry, standing beside her, suddenly burst out with desperate inspiration, his voice cracking slightly: "Wait, Professor! We... we need time to prepare properly!"

    "Two minutes¡ªthat''s all you get¡ª"

    Bryan''s lips curved into a slight smile as he deliberately ced his hands behind his back and turned away in their opposite direction, apparently giving them privacy to discuss their strategy.

    "Listen carefully¡ª" Harry urgently gathered his teammates into a tight huddle. Under the watchful eyes of the other surrounding students, his face had taken on an almost ghostly paleness, and his breathing had be rapid and shallow.

    "Standing there like statues, the way thest group did¡ªthe way we just did¡ªthat''s suicide! We saw what happened to George!" His voice trembled slightly at the memory of George''s agonized screams.

    "Then what should we do?" Neville asked swallowing hard, his voice trembled with barely contained panic.

    Harry''s brow furrowed in concentration as he casted furtive nces at Professor Watson''s back. His mind raced with fragments of strange ideas and strategic possibilities, much like those moments of pure instinct he experienced during his first Quidditch practices. The familiar sensation of adrenaline-fueled rity began to sharpen his thoughts.

    "We... we can''t possibly match Professor Watson in raw power or skill, even with his self-imposed limitations. That means we''re forced into a defensive position¡ª" Harry''s eyes suddenly zed with inspiration as he looked at each of his friends in turn.

    "Professor Watson can Apparate at will¡ªappear from literally any direction without warning. We need to be prepared for attacks from every angle, every moment." Harry''s gaze locked onto Hermione''s, conveying the urgency of his n. "You and I will face Professor Watson directly, while Ginny and Neville maintain constant vignce of our rear nk."

    The strategy, though simple, carried proper logic that none could deny. After a moment''s contemtion, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville nodded in agreement, their faces showing the first glimmers of hope since being called forward.

    Usually, Hermione was the one who came up with strategies for their group, but now Harry had naturally taken on that role and made arrangements.

    "Remember what Professor Watson taught us about attack rhythm¡ª" Harry continued, his mind racing through remembered lessons. "We can''t all cast simultaneously; it would waste our magical energy and leave us vulnerable. When Iunch my attack, Professor Watson will certainly dodge¡ªthat''s when you, Hermione, must be ready to strike at his most likely evasion point!"

    This level of coordination would require the urate teamwork that Professor Watson had mentioned earlier. While Hermione and Ginny''s eyes showed understanding and determination, Neville''s gaze flickered with uncertainty¡ªnot from failing to grasp the strategy, but from deep-seated doubts about his magical capabilities.

    Natural talent, Harry realized, could never fullypensate for dedicated training and experience. He had wracked his brain to provide what basic tactical guidance he could, but the harsh reality was that they would have to learn the rest through the pot of actualbat.

    The allocated two minutes seemed to pass in an instant. Professor Watson turned back around, and when he saw the four students positioned in a square formation¡ªHarry and Hermione watching him tensely while Neville and Ginny faced the opposite direction¡ªhis eyes shed with approval, though his lips quickly curved into a sarcastic sneer.

    "Prepared to begin?"

    "Yes, Professor!" Harry''s voice came unnaturally high-pitched, showing his tension.

    The watching students collectively took another step back, while Draco observed Harry''s tactical arrangement on the field with a gloomy look through his eyes. Though the strategy was obvious as it could be seen through at a nce, he hadn''t thought of it himself. It seemed that, just like in Quidditch, Potter''s dueling talent was exceptional.

    <strong>WHOOSH!</strong>

    Professor Watsonunched his attack with frightening suddenness. This time, he sacrificed the psychological advantage of Apparition. Instead, after narrowing eyes, he raised his hand and conjured a familiar dark shadow¡ªthe same type of stone spike that had so brutally impaled George''s thigh earlier.

    The nonverbal spell,bined with his fluid movement, made Professor Watson''s casting speed terrifying. The absence of an incantation eliminated any warning, any chance to anticipate the specific nature of the attack.

    In a heartbeat, the stone spike whistled through the air like a deadly arrow, its trajectory aimed with precision at Hermione''s exposed shoulder de!

    Their months of rigorous training proved their worth in that crucial moment. Hermione''s eyes tracked the terribly fast projectile, and in that crucial fraction of a second between choosing to dodge or defend, her mind made the tactical decision.

    Rather than attempting to dodge, she raised her wand arm in a practiced motion, her voice ringing out clear and strong as she cast a Shield Charm. The magical barrier materialized just in time, intercepting the deadly spike while it was still twenty feet from its target!

    <strong>BANG!</strong>

    The collision of offensive and defensive magic produced a thunderous sound that echoed across the training ground. The violent surge of magical energy sent Hermione staggering backward, her vision blurring momentarily from the intense magical feedback. Yet through the disorientation, a slight smile of triumph appeared on her face as the scattered stone fragments proved she had sessfully blocked Professor Watson''s attack!

    A wave of hope swept through the watching students¡ªGranger''s sessful defense proved they weren''t entirely helpless against their professor''s attack. However, what happened next made them realize what it meant to be overwhelmed with overwhelming force!

    <strong>WHOOSH! WHOOSH! WHOOSH!</strong>

    Professor Watson deftly flicked his wrist, and the scattered stone fragments hanging in the air underwent a terrifying transformation. They multiplied and elongated, bing numerous razor-sharp stone needles that suddenly reversed direction mid-flight. With a sound like angry wasps, they all rushed towards Potter''s position.

    The attack was masterfully executed, covering every possible escape route with a deadly web of projectiles. Harry had no choice but to stand his ground and defend!

    In that critical moment, Harry''s shield charm erupted before him, creating a barrier against the storm of stone needles. But Professor Watson hadn''tmitted the amateur''s mistake of remaining still¡ªhaving sessfully forced Harry into a defensive position, he vanished from sight with that same magic as before.

    Neville and Ginny heard the movements behind them but they did not dare to turn around. They remembered Harry''s instructions, and strictly followed it and defended the rear. Neville, in particr, fought against every instinct screaming at him to turn around, and forced himself to stare ahead with wide eyes. Suddenly, a cold face appeared right in front of him, almost touching his body!

    "Ah!" Neville''s terror-filled scream pierced the air as he desperately tried to take his wand out, but Professor Watson''s movements were very fast. In one fluid motion, he seized Neville''s wand while simultaneously conjuring thick ropes that wrapped around the Neville''s body like constricting serpents, sending him crashing to the ground.

    Ginny''s reaction speed was impressive. Upon realizing Neville was under attack, she casted her spell almost instantly, with a torrent of bats pouring from her wand tip.

    However, Professor Watson had anticipated this response perfectly¡ªhe remained in front of Neville for barely half a heartbeat before dodging sideways, allowing the bat-bogey hex to pass harmlessly by. Taking advantage of the brief moment of post-casting rigidity that followed Ginny''s spell, he struck like a cobra, his hand closing around her throat from the side!

    The pressure on her neck caused Ginny''s eyes to roll back in their sockets, her body began to tremble as she fought for air.

    By this point, Harry and Hermione had finally shaken off their defensive stances and spun around, abandoning their forward defense at the sound of Neville''s agonized cry. The sight that greeted them froze the blood in their veins.

    "Stop!" Harry''s voice cracked with desperate fury as he witnessed Ginny''s suffering, but Professor Watson maintained his grip. Instead of showing mercy, he raised his wand directly at Ginny''s terrified eyes while giving them a cruel, cold smile.

    "Drop your wands, now!" Bryanmanded coldly as he deliberately tightened his grip on Ginny''s throat.

    Seeing Ginny twitching like a fish that was suffocating after being out of water, Harry and Hermione trembled and dropped their wands almost without thinking.

    But surrendering their defense meant death rather than salvation.

    Two swift red beams shot out like cold lightning, causing Harry and Hermione to roll their eyes and copse helplessly to the ground. By this point, less than ten seconds had passed since Professor Watson''s initial attack.

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 0533 Duels

    0533 Duels

    <strong>Whoosh, whoosh!</strong>

    The echoes of spells reverberated through Professor Watson''s spiritual space as two brilliant shes of red light - Stunning Spells streaked through the air like crimson lightning. With merciless efficiency, Neville and Ginny crumpled and vanished from the ground, following Harry and Hermione''s fate.

    The way Professor Watson had dealt with Ginny was particrly shocking to the onlooking students - he had executed the Stunning Spell with his wand pressed so close to her face that several students gasped audibly. This cold, almost cruel action left everyone terrified.

    Professor Watson''s overwhelming magical prowess needed no borate demonstration or exnation and few at Hogwarts dared to challenge his authority. But the young wizards had never witnessed such a frightening side of him!

    Now they realized thatpared to Professor Watson, the cold and stern expressions of Professors Snape and McGonagall in ss seemed almost gentle. No one was questioning anymore whether it was appropriate and legal for a professor to treat young wizards this way - they were all worried about their own fate, trapped within Professor Watson''s spiritual world with no other choice!

    "Now," Professor Watson''s voice cut through the tension like a knife, "I''ll give you two minutes to consider why that group failed." His tone carried no mockery or criticism, just cool expectation.

    Bryan didn''t immediately summon the next group but gave them a moment to collect their scattered thoughts and racing hearts.

    <em>''Reasons for failure? What could there possibly be to consider?''</em> Several young wizards thought to themselves, their internal voices tinged with both fear and sarcasm. <em>''Potter''s group stood about as much chance against you as a flobberworm against a dragon.''</em>

    But no one dared voice these thoughts as Professor Watson''s prating gaze swept over them, clearly waiting for someone brave enough to offer an answer.

    Finally, Millicent Bulstrode from Slytherin raised a trembling hand. Her normally imposing voice had shrunk to barely more than a whisper as she feebly, "It was Longbottom''s fault. He was dead weight - didn''t even manage to cast a single spell¡ª" Her voice trailed off under Professor Watson''s unflinching stare.

    "Are there any other perspectives to consider?" Bryan asked, his face expressionless revealing nothing of his thoughts.

    The silence that followed was suffocating, thick with tension and unspoken fears. Atst, Draco his pale face even whiter than usual, gathered what remained of his courage.

    "They..." Speaking through clenched teeth, he said, "They should have shown more tactical flexibility. Standing there like statues, they made themselves easy targets. They should have..." His brow furrowed in concentration as he grappled with concepts, he could sense but couldn''t quite express.

    Cedric Diggory''s voice rang out next, carrying some confidence. "After you attacked Granger, Potter wasted a crucial opportunity for counterattack by hesitating. Instead of seizing that moment, he waited for your second strike. Their excessive focus on defensive positioning came at the cost of reaction speed and offensive capability."

    As if Cedric''s analysis had broken a dam, students from all houses began offering their observations, their voices growing stronger as they built upon each other''s understandings. Somements showed genuine tactical understanding, while others exposed fundamental misunderstandings of magicalbat. Throughout it all, Professor Watson maintained his silence, neither confirming nor dismissing any of their interpretations. He simply listened; without changing his expression.

    When the discussions naturally subsided and the spiritual space grew quiet once more, Professor Watson spoke slowly. "You must learn to think independently," he emphasized, his voice low but carrying to every corner of the spiritual space. "You are not just machines following predetermined patterns. Each of you possesses unique thoughts, instincts, and fighting styles that will ultimately lead you to develop your own distinctive approach to magicalbat. Don''t expect me to simply hand you a predetermined form for sess."

    The next group to face this challenge consisted of three Gryffindor Girls: Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spi, and Katie Bell - the legendary Gryffindor Chaser trio.

    To be honest, they gave Bryan some pleasant surprises.

    Years of coordination on the Quidditch pitch had clearly fostered an exceptional understanding of tactical positioning and formation dynamics among the trio. Their teamwork also had a particrly sophisticated level of coordination.

    Having witnessed the disastrous failures of both the Weasley twins and Granger''s groups, they had at least grasped a fundamental principle of magical dueling: attack and defense were distinct formations requiring fluid transitions rather than rigid, stationary positions that left them vulnerable like practice targets in the training grounds.

    However, the gap between theoretical understanding and practical execution was their copse. Their movements, while coordinated,cked the split-second timing necessary for effectivebat transitions and Bryan expertly exploited this weakness with devastating results.

    With a casual flick of his wand, he conjured a magical swamp beneath Angelina''s feet, suddenly immobilizing her. The unexpected development caused Katie and Alicia to freeze momentarily ¨C surely a fatal mistake in magicalbat.

    Then, they both simultaneously tried to rescue Angelina - undoubtedly a terrible choice,pletely failing to realize they needed to leave someone to handle Professor Watson''s next attack. In truth, tactically speaking, they would have fared better abandoning Angelina to focus on countering Bryan''s follow-up attack.

    Their fate was sealed when a massive wave of purple magical me rushed toward them, its heat intense enough to distort the air itself. Three piercing screams echoed through the spiritual space before the Gryffindor trio vanished as one.

    The Hufflepuff team''s turn came next, and they demonstrated the house''s reputation for being slower to adapt to changing circumstances. Most of their performance was a near carbon copy of previous groups'' mistakes, with one notable exception: Cedric Diggory. He distinguished himself as the first student brave enough to seize the initiative,unching an opening attack the moment the duel began.

    His Reducto Curse, executed with impressive speed and precision, forced Bryan to make his first evasive movement of the evening. Disying remarkable tactical awareness, Cedric had already anticipated his dodge andunched a follow-up Disarming Charm that actuallypelled Bryan to actively defend himself, dispersing the spell with a wave of his wand ¨C also a first in the evening''s battles.

    Yet Cedric''s moment of brilliance was followed by an equally dramatic failure. When Bryan suddenly materialized near Cho Chang, Cedric''s tactical judgement vanished instantly, reced by raw panic. Convinced his ''girl'' ''friend'' was going to suffer like Ginny did, he abandoned all of his strategies and threw himself on top of her, trying to shield her from harm.

    This foolish action left their teammate Roger Daviespletely dumbfounded and he was also exposed and tactically paralyzed. He could only watch in horror as a conjured stone spear impaled both Cedric and Cho, their bodies vanishing together, before an explosion sent Roger himself flying from the spiritual space.

    The Ravenw team of girls wasn''t particrly noteworthy, performing neither impressively nor poorly, though Luna''s continuously dreamy demeanor during even such an intense duel made Bryan purse his lips. The young witch''s extraordinary magical sensitivity was both a blessing and a curse.

    Draco''s team was the first Slytherin group to enter the arena, and they were also thest team of the evening to surprise Bryan.

    After watching so many teams fail, Draco had at least learned one principle ¨C it was better to strike first!

    <strong>Hiss, hiss¡ª</strong>

    The moment Professor Watson signaled the start of the duel, Draco unleashed his signature spell with impressive speed. Two massive ck pythons, each as thick as a man''s wrist and nearly two meters in length, erupted from his wand tip.

    One coiled protectively near him like a living shield, while its twinunched forward with shocking swiftness, its movements unpredictable and deadly. In the span of a heartbeat, the attacking serpent had closed the distance to Professor Watson, andunched upward with explosive force.

    The ck python sprung from its belly like a fullypressed spring, opening its fierce mouth in mid-air to reveal sharp fangs, striking directly at Professor Watson''s face.

    Such a vicious and unrestrained attack brought a slight smile to Bryan''s face. He raised his wand to disperse the ck python into wisps of smoke, countering Draco''s attack with a Corrosion Curse.

    As the blue spell light filled with deadly energy was about to hit Draco, the defensive ck python he had left in front leaped up, and swallowed Professor Watson''s curse whole before falling back to the ground. The python writhed in apparent agony as the corrosive energy consumed it, but it had served its purpose.

    In that same instant, Astoria Greengrass, the younger of the Greengrass sisters,pleted her own offensive spell. Her clear voice rang out with the incantation "Avis!" and suddenly the air was filled with the beating of wings as a dozen conjured birds materialized.

    These were no ordinary birds as their beaks gleamed with metallic sharpness. Before Professor Watson couldplete his counter to Draco''s attack, the birds had executed a perfect surrounding maneuver, creating a sphere of potential attack routes.

    The timing and execution of thisbination attack would have spelled doom for most adult wizards, and even Bryan''s eyes showed a glimmer of genuine approval. However, expecting such tactics to ovee someone who maintainedbat abilities on par with elite Aurors was perhaps overly optimistic.

    Faced with the multi-directional threat, Bryan''s falling arm reversed direction with lightning speed. In less time than it takes to blink, he executed a precise magical strike that sent visible ripples through the space. Astoria''s conjured birds dropped from the air like stones, crushed by an overwhelming gravitational force that none could resist.

    "Charge!"

    Draco''smand rang out before Professor Watson had even finished dealing with the air threats. His team had already anticipated that their opening strategy wouldn''t be enough to secure victory. Moving with nned coordination, they formed a perfect triangle formation and rushed forward with remarkable courage. When Bryan finally turned back after finishing off the birds, he found himself being rapidly encircled by the young Slytherins.

    Their positioning was tactically half-good enough so Bryan abandoned his initial n to approach them via Apparition. Instead, he remained still, curious to see how the students would get the most out of their advantageous position. He allowed them toplete their encirclement, watching with interest as they reached their desired attack positions.

    What followed was a storm of attacks. Perhaps driven by a desire to prove themselves, theyunched spell after spell in a continuous barrage. Their attack rhythm, while impressive in its intensity,cked the perfect coordination of their openingbination. Bryan, more out of instructive interest than necessity, remained defensive, using minimal movement and magical barriers to defend their assaults while allowing them to exhaust their offensive options.

    This fierce exchange continued for nearly a minute before the inevitable happened. Astoria''s face suddenly drained of color; the Disarming Charm she had begun to cast dissipated into harmless sparkles before it could fully form. An overwhelming wave of dizziness crashed over her, and her legs gave out beneath her, sending her crumpling to the ground.

    The sudden copse of their teammate caused Draco and Pansy to hesitate in their attack - another crucial mistake. Before they could adjust their strategy, the same draining dizziness came over them as well. Both students clutched their heads as they struggled to maintain their footing, their offensive formation crumbling.

    As Professor Watson approached them with the first genuine smile, they''d seen all evening, Draco fought against his body''s overwhelming urge to flee. Instead, he forced himself to meet his professor''s gaze and asked, his voice trembling with abination of fear and exhaustion, "When... when did you manage to poison us?"

    "Oh, I didn''t poison you at all," Bryan replied with a smile, "You simply failed to fully consider the limitations of your own magical reserves. Maintaining such an intense offensive pressure demands an enormous expenditure of both magical power and physical energy, Mr. Malfoy."

    Three pained cries echoed through the spiritual space, and then Draco''s team joined their predecessors in defeat, vanishing from Bryan''s Spiritual World.

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 0534 Review

    0534 Review

    The tension in the ssroom was palpable as the final trio of Slytherin students leaped from their wooden benches with startled cries. Professor Watson, the source of their terror, slowly opened his eyes before them.

    George sat stiffly in his seat; hands sped tightly around his physically unharmed but psychologically traumatized leg. His typically sparkling eyes, were now clouded with a mix of fear and indignation, fixed upon Professor Watson with an unmistakable look of resentment. The famous Weasley twin humor seemed to have been thoroughly extinguished by the evening''s brutal demonstrations.

    Across the ssroom, Neville''s shoulders were drooped with the weight of apparent failure, his chin tucked against his chest in absolute dejection. Beside him, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny worked together to give quiet words of constion, their voices were barely above whispers as they tried to rebuild Neville''s shattered confidence.

    Meanwhile, Draco was vigorous with excitement as he smugly narrated his fellow Slytherins with an increasingly embellished ount of their duel against Professor Watson.

    The majority of the young wizards wore expressions of stunned disbelief mixed with deep disappointment. Professor Watson''s ruthless demonstration had shattered theirfortable illusions about their own abilities.

    The bitter pill of reality was particrly hard to swallow - after months of dedicated training and practice, they had believed themselves to have significantly improved, yet they were still effortlessly defeated by Professor Watson who had been restraining most of his power. This sense of disappointment was indescribable.

    Looking at the dejected young wizards, Bryan wasn''t particrly disappointed ¨C the result was exactly as he had expected.

    "Cheer up," Professor Watson''s calm voice cut through the heavy silence. As the students'' attention shifted to him, their eyes widening with renewed interest, he raised his wand to his temple. With smooth, practiced movements, he began extracting several gleaming strands of silver threads.

    "Now," he continued, his wand moving through the air in intricate patterns that left traces of silvery light in its trail, "let''s review our practice session from beginning to end¡ª"

    The silver threads expanded and merged into a shimmering surface that resembled a mirror made of flowing water, showing a perspective from Professor Watson''s own point of view throughout the duels.

    Fred, George, and Lee, who had been the first victims of the evening''s demonstrations, leaned forward with particr interest, eager to witness how their ssmates had fared after their own swift defeat. Simrly, Hermione''s group and the others who followed were equally curious about the subsequent encounters.

    The room fell into an attentive silence as students who had been eliminated early finally got to see the full scope of the evening''s trials. The fact that Professor Watson could project memories with such rity no longer sparked amazement among the students - they had grown ustomed to his extraordinary magical capabilities. Each student focused intently on the projected memories, analyzing their own performance with critical eyes.

    The remaining ss time was transformed into an intensive review session, and in the final minutes before the ss''s conclusion, they had witnessed the entire evening''s duel from its beginning to its conclusion. The memory projection showed every misstep, every moment of hesitation, and every group''s failed strategy in clear detail, with their shorings.

    "You''ve all fallen into amon misconception that I must address¡ª" Bryan said to the contemtive young wizards. "You treated these duels with the same mindset you have in a standard ssroom exercises, rather than treating them with the importance they deserve. This is a potentially fatal error ¨C When this mindset bes habitual, you may find yourself on a real battlefield one day, suddenly realizing there are no second chances, no opportunities to start over. By then, such a realization wille far toote--"

    The evening''s duels had revealed numerous issues beyond this fundamental mindset problem. Setting aside the individual magical capabilities of the young wizards, which varied considerably, their attempted teamwork had been, from Bryan''s perspective, disastrous.

    Even Draco''s group, who had shown the most promise in teamwork, had only managed to synchronize their attack timing while they failed to achieve any meaningful synergy between their individual spells. Their attacks, while coordinated in timing, were essentially independent actions rather than truly corresponding magicalbinations.

    However, Bryan did not voice his criticism as he understood that this had been their first genuine experience with both teambat and real-world dueling conditions. Under such circumstances, their mistakes, while numerous, were not entirely inexcusable given their inexperience. They were natural stepping stones in the learning process rather than insurmountable failures.

    "--Regarding the specific reasons behind each group''s defeat, I won''t spell them out for you. This is something you must analyze and understand for yourselves. Each group will submit an essay examining their failures by next Wednesday, with a minimum length of fifteen inches¡ª"

    The assignment announcement drew various reactions from the gathered students. Harry''s eye twitched noticeably at the prospect of such a lengthy analysis, but his expression quickly shifted as he realized the task was assigned per group rather than individually.

    A sideways nce at Hermione told him what he already suspected - knowing her academic enthusiasm and perfectionist tendencies, she would likely take it upon herself to write the entire essay without asking.

    The typically energetic atmosphere that followed Physical Education ss was notably absent as students marched out of the ssroom. George''s continued limping was particrly conspicuous - while his leg had no physical injury, the psychological impact of the evening''s events had manifested in a very real physical response, creating a psychological limp he couldn''t seem to shake.

    "Oh, right--" Harry deliberately ignored Malfoy''s continuing smug nces and barely concealed bragging. He understood all too well that the Slytherin''s little sess owed more to the advantage of goingst than any superior ability. Had they faced Professor Watson first, without the benefit of learning from others'' mistakes, their fate might well have been worse than George''s!

    Just as he was about to exit the ssroom, Harry muttered something under his breath and abruptly turned back. He jogged quickly to Professor Watson, who was orchestrating an impressive show of magical housekeeping as numerous chairs obediently hopped back to their ces against the wall.

    Several minutester, under Professor Watson''s knowing and slightly amused gaze, Harry darted out of the ssroom clutching a newly signed piece of parchment.

    "You went to¡ª" Hermione''s voice caught Harry by surprise as she emerged from the shadows of the corridor where she had been waiting patiently outside the ssroom door. Her eyes needed only a momentary nce at the parchment in his hand to understand what was going on. "He actually signed it?"

    "Professor Watson has always been approachable, hasn''t he?" Harry questioned, genuine confusion coloring his tone.

    "Yes--" Hermione''s lips pressed into a thin line as a visible shudder ran through her body, horror flickering across her facial features as she recalled the evening''s events. "But when he casted that spell on Ginny in the Spiritual space just now, oh..." She paused, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "Ginny will definitely have nightmares tonight."

    "Ginny won''t be the only one having nightmares--" Harry responded with deep empathy as they began their journey back to themon room, their footsteps echoing in the stone corridors.

    The unusual atmosphere following this particr Physical Education ss did not go unnoticed by their fellow students. Typically, the post-ss period buzzed with excitement and lively discussions, especially when Professor Watson hadn''t explicitly forbidden them from sharing the ss content. But tonight, an unnatural silence hung over the returning students, their passive demeanor raising eyebrows throughout the castle.

    "What happened?" Ron''s worried voice caught them off guard as they approached the corridor leading to the Fat Lady''s portrait. He had been anxiously waiting at the entrance, and upon spotting them, he rushed forward with obvious concern. "Weren''t you all in ss together? Why does George look like he''s been injured, and I''ve never seen Ginny in such a state before? What exactly happened in there? Why is everyone so quiet?"

    Ron''s gaze settled on Hermione initially, but upon noting theplex mixture of emotions swirling in her brown eyes, he physically recoiled as if struck by an invisible force. His attention shifted swiftly to Harry instead, seeking answers from him.

    "Oh, nothing--" Harry said tiredly, "Nothing unexpected happened, Ron. We just... got taught a lesson by Professor Watson."

    He gestured toward the portrait hole, telling they continue this conversation in private. "Let''s talk inside. Hermione and I both took a Stunning Spell in Professor Watson''s Spiritual space, but it felt so real."

    With those words, Harry moved past Ron toward the Fat Lady''s portrait, with Hermione following silently in his trail. Ron remained rooted to the spot, watching their retreating backs with growing concern. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no words emerged, his face appeared particrly ghostly in the flickering firelight of the corridor''s torches.

    <strong>*SCENEBREAK*</strong>

    Outside the castle walls, nature painted its own dramatic scene. The setting sun casted its final rays across the Scottish Hignds, transforming the sky into a canvas of deep crimson and gold.

    The ck Lake''s surface rippled with these blood-red reflections, its waters moving in gentle ripple beneath the dying light. Perched majestically on its cliff, the ck silhouette of Hogwarts castle stood in silent witness to the day''s end, its ancient stones seeming to embody a profound sense of tragic heroism in their eternal vignce.

    This particr scene made Fleur ufortable, and she deliberately turned away from the mncholic scene. Her attention drifted instead to the nearby Quidditch pitch, where she observed Hermione Granger, the young girl who, like herself was also a champion. She was runningps around the Quidditch pitch, along with about a dozen other students.

    ''Completely pointless and utterly stupid¡ª'' she thought to herself, her facial features arranging themselves into an expression of elegant disdain. This peculiar routine had caught her attention from her very first day at Hogwarts.

    Without fail, every evening, this determined group of Hogwarts students would circle their pitch repeatedly, maintaining this bizarre routine with religious devotion. This very concept puzzled her- what possible benefit could wizards hope to gain by exercising their bodies? The behavior struck her as so absurd that she couldn''t even muster enough interest to inquire about its purpose.

    Within her private room in the Beauxbatons carriage, decorated with elegant sky-blue silk curtains, an enchanting aromatic fragrance permeated the air. Though these were temporary amodations, every detail of the room''s d¨¦cor had been meticulously chosen and arranged with exquisite taste, creating an atmosphere of refined artistic sensibility.

    Fleur lounged casually on her bed with, wearing a flowing nightgown of finest blue silk. One shoulder strap had slipped down, leaving half her upper body exposed, but she made no move to adjust it. Rolling onto her side, she conducted azy survey of her room.

    Her gaze settled on the radio on her dressing table with a casing made from some magical creature''s horn and was ying the Weird Sisters'' music¡ªharsh and unpleasant, in Fleur''s opinion.

    "Crude,pletely tasteless English people," she murmured in irritation.

    Nothing at Hogwarts had aligned with her expectations. She had anticipated a warm wee but instead encountered a peculiar indifference. The unexpected developments with the Triwizard Tournament had only added to her growing list of disappointments.

    "Sister--" The door to her room opened without knocking, and Gabrielle walked in- the only person allowed to enter Fleur''s room without permission.

    "Oh, Gabrielle¡ª" Fleur finally adjusted her fallen shoulder strap, shifting to a more proper sitting position. "Please, rid me of that dreadful radio. I simply cannot endure another moment of this awful music¡ª"

    "I find it quite interesting¡ª" Gabrielle''s response came with a yful giggle, though she still turned off the music. She had originallye to escort her sister to dinner, but couldn''t resist teasing her first. "The castle''s supervisor just had a conversation with Madame Maxime. He''s requested that we take our meals in the Great Hall rather than remaining in the carriage--"

    "The castle''s supervisor?" Fleur''s heart performed an unexpected flutter. "Who was it?"

    In the presence of her beloved sister, Gabrielle shed her public personality, bing the mischievous little girl she truly was. Recognizing the barely concealed interest in her sister''s voice, she deliberately withheld the answer, maintaining a knowing smile until Fleur was forced to resort to yful tickling as persuasion. Only then, between fits of giggles and breathlessughter, did she reveal,

    "It was Mr. Watson. He exined to Madame Maxime that the Triwizard Tournament''s true purpose is to foster interaction between all participating schools. He pointed out that if we and the Durmstrang students remain isted in our own spaces, the event loses will lose all its meaning. Madame found his argument quite persuasive--"

    "Did he mention anything else?" Fleur tried to maintain her air of casual indifference as she tossed her silvery hair, but her eager tone betrayed her.

    "No--" Gabrielle responded with apparent honesty. She waited until she observed her sister''s excitement fade slightly before adding with a proud expression, "But I took the initiative to tell Mr. Watson that I wanted to visit Britain''s only all-wizard vige¡ªHogsmeade, and then Mr. Watson immediately agreed--"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0535 Meeting

    0535 Meeting

    Sirius had arranged to meet them at the Three Broomsticks pub at noon on Saturday. Harry spent most of the crisp morning alone in the Gryffindormon room, surrounded by the familiarfort of squashy armchairs and the crackling firece, working halfheartedly on his Potions essay. The parchment in front of him remained stubbornly scarce with words, his mind wandering far from the properties of Strengthening Solutions that Snape had demanded they analyze.

    Hermione hadn''t emerged from her dormitory yet. Ever since Krum had warned her about the historically lethal nature of previous Triwizard Tournament tasks, she had transformed into something beyond her usual studious self and be absolutely obsessed.

    She had practically ransacked the library¡ªborrowing tome after ancient tome, theirbined weight sufficient to make even Hagrid''s massive body buckle under the strain. The books were stacked unsteadily around her bed like the walls of a literary fortress. She was frantically studying the behaviors of dangerous magical creatures and their countermeasures with her quill scratching frantically across parchment as she made detailed notes.

    Day and night blurred together as she memorized incantations, defensive spells, and obscure magical theories, her eyes growing increasingly bloodshot. Anyone brave enough to attempt interrupting her obsessive studying was met with a sharp tongue and an even sharper re that would have made Professor McGonagall proud.

    Ron, perhaps seeking escape from the tension that had settled over their usual trio, had borrowed Harry''s Firebolt early in the morning. The racing broom, still gleaming despite its frequent use, had been whipped away to the grounds where Ron joined Dean and Seamus for some fun flying.

    When Harry had reminded him about their nned trip to Hogsmeade through the secret passage¡ªdelivered with hopeful emphasis¡ªRon had hesitated, his freckled face showed a sh of something unreadable before declining the invitation yet again.

    The prospect of meeting Sirius had been the bright spot in Harry''s thoughts ever since receiving his godfather''s reply, but Ron''s continued absence casted a shadow over his anticipation.

    Even without Hermione''s usually shrewd insights, after years of close friendship Harry was beginning to sense subtle signs that something was amiss. He was starting to suspect that Ron''s strange behavior might not be solely due to concern for Hermione, as she had suggested, but something deeper¡ª though he couldn''t quite figure out what.

    Themon room, normally bustling with activity, was conspicuously without any female students whom Harry could ask to send up to the girls'' dormitory to remind Hermione of the time. The enchanted stairs, which would transform into a smooth stone slide at any male attempt to climb them, meant Harry could only wait anxiously by himself, watching the clock on the wall tick closer to their meeting time.

    "Sorry, am Ite?" The words echoed in the unusually emptymon room.

    When there were only ten minutes remaining until eleven, Hermione burst through the archway from the girls'' dormitory stairs, her usually bushy hair even more disheveled than normal, resembling a brown thundercloud around her face. As she approached, Harry''s eyes widened in shock at her appearance.

    "What happened to your face, Hermione!" Harry eximed, pointing at the red scratch marks on both of her cheeks. "Did you throw another one of Crookshanks'' caught mice out the window again?"

    He remembered thest time her cat had expressed displeasure at having his hunting trophies disposed of.

    "I''ll exin while we walk, Harry!" Hermione gasped out between heavy breaths, her chest heaving as though she''d run a marathon.

    They hastily left the Gryffindor Tower, the Fat Lady calling out something indignant about their rush as they hurried past her portrait. Upon reaching a particrly deserted corner of the castle, Harry pulled out his Invisibility Cloak from his bag, and threw it over himself and Hermione.

    Though Harry had used the magical cloak countless times since receiving it that memorable Christmas morning in his first year, wearing it during daylight hours in the castle was an entirely new set of challenges.

    The corridors were swarming with students, far more numerous than during their nighttime adventures, forcing Harry and Hermione to move with care. One wrong move, one idental bump or misced step, and ghost stories would be circting through the castle faster than owl post by the time they returned from Hogsmeade.

    They navigated carefully to the third floor''s Gunhilda corridor. The corridor was thankfully empty, with barely a soul in sight. Harry lifted the Invisibility Cloak briefly, the cool castle air rushing to meet their warm faces, and they sprinted toward the one-eyed witch statue that guarded their secret passage.

    The statue''s hump opened with a whispered "Dissendium," and they scrambled inside the narrow opening, their movements skillful from previous adventures.

    "I was practicing how to fight Dementors in the dormitory!" Hermione exined, her voice climbing to an almost hysterical pitch as they raced through the secret passage with their wands lit to guide them.

    "I just can''t seem to produce the Patronus Charm! It''s absolutely maddening¡ªno matter how many times I attempt the spell, nothing happens at all. Not even a wisp of silver smoke! This has never happened before with any spell I''ve tried. How do you manage it, Harry? What exactly did Professor Lupin teach you that made it work?"

    "There''s actually a trick to it!" Harry replied, unable to keep a note of pride from his voice¡ªit was a novel and rather satisfying experience to know a spell that Hermione couldn''t master. "You really need a Boggart to practice properly. Having that semi-real experience of facing what feels like an actual Dementor makes an enormous difference in learning this particr spell!"

    "Harry¡ª" Hermione''s voice carried a hint of exasperation, tinged with what might have been frustration, "I''m not like you. A Boggart won''t transform into a Dementor when it confronts me¡ªmy fears are... different. Besides," she added practically, "Boggarts aren''t exactly like sweets at Honeydukes that you can simply purchase with a handful of Galleons."

    "Oh, right¡ªI hadn''t thought of that¡ª" Harry said awkwardly, feeling rather foolish. "Well... the key is really concentrating on happy memories. The more powerful and meaningful the memory, the better your chances of sessfully casting the spell."

    "Yeah¡ª" Hermione''s voice became distressed once more, her words tumbling out in a rush, "As you can probably tell from my current state, all I can see when I close my eyes are lovely, happy memories, not Dementors, werewolves, vampires, and other such delightful creatures that might try to kill us all!"

    Harry, recognizing the sarcasm in her tone, wisely chose to remain silent on that particr point.

    The secret passage between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, while safer than traveling above ground, was not a short journey.

    Harry recalled from their previous year''s adventures that the underground route was typically long and ufortably dark, but this time, despite maintaining a running pace throughout, they weren''t particrly exhausted. He realized that maintaining good physical condition was bing increasingly valuable for him even as a wizard, something he hadn''t previously considered important.

    When they had first entered the passage, weak autumn sunlight had been filtering through thin clouds above the castle grounds, casting pale shadows across the grass. However, upon emerging from the sweet-scented cer of Honeydukes, they were startled to find the sky had transformed dramatically.

    Dark clouds had gathered ominously above, and a fine, misty rain had begun to fall, creating a silvery haze that softened the edges of the vige''s thatched roofs and cobblestone streets.

    "Quick, Harry, we must avoid those girls¡ªthey''re from Beauxbatons¡ª" Hermione whispered urgently, tugging at his sleeve.

    During normal times, Honeydukes typically only had local vige children as customers. But now Hermione had spotted several tall young women in powder-blue uniforms examining the shelves of sweet with far more enthusiasm than they''d shown during their initial tour of Hogwarts castle.

    "How did they manage to get out here?" Harry wondered aloud, crouching low and following Hermione''s lead as they made their stealthy exit from the sweet shop.

    Outside on the rain-dampened street, they noticed more foreign students who stood out clearly from the local vigers with their distinctive uniforms.

    "They''re guests of the school, aren''t they?" Hermione responded matter-of-factly, showing no surprise at their presence. "It''s only natural they''d be granted certain privileges. Harry, we need the Invisibility Cloak again¡ªI strongly suspect we''ll encounter some of them at the Three Broomsticks as well. I''ve already spotted several Durmstrang students heading in that direction."

    Hermione''s prediction proved remarkably urate. Upon reaching the Three Broomsticks, they discovered not just a few, but a substantial group of Durmstrang students.

    Unlike Beauxbatons students'' interest in sweets, the Durmstrang students appeared far more attracted to the pub''s alcoholic drinks. They crowded around the bar, demanding Madam Rosmerta bring out the strongest drinks in the house, much to her evident eye-rolling displeasure.

    Harry''s eyes quickly scanned the rowdy group, but Krum was nowhere to be seen. He wondered if he had chosen to remain at the castle to avoid creating yet anothermotion with his presence.

    Still concealed beneath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry and Hermione carefully maneuvered through the crowded pub, dodging elbows and avoiding collisions as they searched the room.

    After several tense moments of careful observation, they finally located Sirius. Despite upying a perfectly visible position, Sirius had managed to make himself remarkably inconspicuous, a skill likely honed during his years as a fugitive. He was casually holding a ss of beer, which was barely touched, while watching the rowdy Durmstrang students with an expression that could only be described as wary less than friendly gaze.

    "Sirius¡ª"

    The moment Harry caught sight of his godfather, joy erupted in his chest like a warm explosion, trying to overflow. He instinctively reached to pull off the Invisibility Cloak, eager to properly greet him, but Hermione''s quick reflexes prevented the impulsive gesture.

    "We can''t reveal ourselves, Harry¡ª" Hermione hissed nervously, her fingers gripping his arm with surprising strength. "Don''t forget we''re not supposed to be here at all!"

    Sirius was far more perceptive than either of them had anticipated. He immediately detected the presence of two invisible visitors approaching his table, his facial features momentarily sharpened into an alert expression. However, within a few seconds, his face transformed into a warm, knowing smile.

    "Ah, Harry and Hermione, I see you''ve brought James''s Invisibility Cloak with you. A very prudent decision indeed!"

    "How did you manage to identify us so quickly, Sirius?" Hermione asked, her voice filled with both amazement and curiosity as Harry guided her into one of the two chairs Sirius had thoughtfully positioned close to himself.

    "You both still have much to learn about the art of stealth!" Sirius chuckled softly, gesturing toward the floor with a subtle movement of his hand.

    Harry and Hermione looked down to discover a telling trail of wet footprints leading from the pub''s entrance directly to their current position¡ªthe distinct patterns clearly belonging to one teenage boy and one teenage girl.

    "Oh, that''s rather clever¡ª" Hermione admitted, her tone carrying both admiration and a hint of embarrassment at overlooking such an obvious detail.

    "How have you been, Sirius!" Harry asked eagerly, leaning forward across the wooden table. Sirius looked much as he had when he''d arrived to get Harry from the Dursleys during the summer¡ªhis skin weathered and tanned by wind and sun, perhaps slightly thinner than before, but his eyes still sparkled with the same resilient good spirits.

    Though Sirius couldn''t see Harry''s expression through the magical cloak, the obvious joy in his godson''s voice told him that Harry must be grinning at him. He carefully weakened his responses, mindful that to any casual observer, he would appear to be sitting alone at his table, and too much sound might draw unwanted attention.

    "Apart from being exceptionally busy, I''m finding it difficult to describe my current situation any other way, Harry¡ª" Sirius replied, using his beer mug to hide a small smile. "But what about you, Harry? Is everything going smoothly at school?"

    "Everything''s fine," Harry responded quietly, his voice barely carrying above the noise of the pub.

    Two months into the school year, and he hadn''t encountered any life-threatening situations or mysterious dangers yet¡ªpossibly a first in several years.

    "Well then, Hermione¡ª" Sirius stared at the swirling depths of his beer contemtively, maintaining the appearance of someone lost in thought. "I suspect your recent experiences haven''t been quite so uneventfultely, have they?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong><strong>

    <strong>AUTHOR''S NOTE:</strong>

    Hey everyone, Iam back. Updates will be regr from now on.</strong>

 0536 Suspicions

    0536 Suspicions

    Unlike Harry''s deep and almost familial bond with Sirius, Hermione''s rtionship with Sirius had initially been more distant and cautious. However, the weeks they had spent together at the Burrow during the summer, coupled with their shared connection through Harry, had gradually transformed Sirius into a trusted friend.

    Moreover, as a Muggle-born witch, Hermione hade to view Sirius as something of a worldly mentor figure in the often-bewildering Wizarding world, despite¡ªor perhaps because of¡ªhis ownplicated rtionship with it.

    Hermione began to open up about the increasing pressure that had been crushing down on her like an invisible weight. Her voice, barely above a whisper, trembled as she described the suspicious nces and whispered conversations that seemed to follow her through the castle corridors. Her began to quiver beneath the silvery fabric of the Invisibility Cloak, revealing the emotional toll of recent events.

    Beside her, Harry listened in tense silence to his friend''s troubles, his hands unconsciously clenching into tight fists beneath the cloak. A familiar surge of protective anger zed through his chest, hot and fierce.

    The situation was painfully familiar¡ªhe knew all too well the bitter taste of being ostracized and doubted, having endured simr treatment during his second year when half the school had suspected him of being the Heir of Slytherin.

    "I understand¡ª" Sirius''s voice was gentle, carrying the weight of personal experience. His grey eyes, which had seen both the depths of despair and the heights of redemption, held a deep empathy.

    "More than most, I truly understand what it means to be misunderstood, Hermione. That feeling of istion, of being judged and condemned without justice¡ªit''s absolutely unbearable. But remember this: if you stay true to yourself and persevere, hope will eventually break through even the darkest clouds. You mustn''t let those who persecute you achieve their goal¡ªtheir power lies in breaking your spirit."

    Hermione raised a trembling hand to wipe away the tears that had gathered at the corners of her eyes, and gazed at Sirius with a mixture of surprise and realization. Then she realized her own troubles suddenly seemed to shrink in perspective as she considered the magnitude of what Sirius had endured.

    He had spent twelve years in Azkaban, wrongly imprisoned for betraying his best friends, surrounded by soul-sucking Dementors that forced him to relive his worst memories day after day. Even after his escape, he had lived as a fugitive, surviving on rats and sleeping in caves, all while pursuing the true traitor who had destroyed his life.

    Yet here he sat, offeringfort and wisdom born from his trials, living proof that eptance and vindication were possible even in the darkest circumstances.

    "Thank you, Sirius¡ª" Hermione''s voice was dense with gratitude as she pressed her lips together, fighting to maintain herposure.

    "Do you have any leads, Sirius?" Harry asked eagerly, leaning forward with such enthusiasm that the cloak shifted, momentarily revealing a glimpse of his trainers.

    "I''m not entirely certain¡ª" Sirius released a weary sigh. "I have some theories forming, but since both Bryan and Dumbledore have chosen to maintain their silence on certain matters¡ª"

    His voice trailed off suggestively, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like an unfinished spell.

    Sirius''s cryptic exnation hung in the air like an unsolved riddle; neither Harry nor Hermione could quite decipher the hidden meaning behind his words.

    Catching himself, and apparently deciding he shouldn''t burden the young ones with too much anxiety, Sirius straightened in his chair and adopted a more businesslike demeanor.

    "Hermione," he said solemnly, his voice dropping even lower, "I need you to recount everything that happened after your selection as champion. Every detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem, could help me form a more urate assessment of the situation."

    Hermione had previously shared the details of that argument in the antechamber behind the Great Hall with Harry, Ron, and Ginny. Now, revisiting those moments made her heart race as though she were experiencing it all again. Though the raw desperation of that night had somewhat faded, her pulse still quickened noticeably as she began her exnation.

    "--After what seemed like an endless debate, Barty Crouch finally confirmed my position as champion," she whispered, constantly scanning the crowded pub for any sign they''d been noticed. "He told the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons headmasters that if they considered it unfair, Hogwarts'' overall score would be calcted as an average of mine and Cedric Diggory''s performances. That essentially ended the immediate argument¡ª"

    The busy atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks forced Hermione to frequently pause her narrative. The constant flow of patrons, the clinking of sses, and the rowdyughter of the Durmstrang students made it necessary to time her words carefully.

    What might have been a straightforward retelling stretched into a fifteen-minute exercise in patience and vignce as she carefully reconstructed the events of that evening in the Great Hall.

    "Well?" Harry''s voice vibrated with barely contained anticipation. "Have you managed to piece anything together, Sirius?"

    "Obviously¡ª" Sirius''s face took on the intense focus of deep contemtion. While thinking, his grey eyes asionally shed with sharp, rational brilliance. It seemed that his career as an Auror had made him more perceptive.

    After two minutes of concentrated silence, during which Harry and Hermione barely dared to breathe, Sirius spoke with grave certainty: "The person who submitted your name to the Goblet of Fire, Hermione, was present in that room that night."

    Hermione''s hands instantly clenched into tight fists, her knuckles whitening beneath the cloak. Beside her, Harry nearlyunched himself off his stool in a surge of protective anger. Only Hermione''s quick reflexes, grabbing his arm with pressure, prevented their cover from being blownpletely.

    "How did you arrive at that conclusion, Sirius?" Hermione''s voice was breathless with tension, her body rigid with anticipation.

    "Does it really require such intensive deduction?" Sirius''s smile carried a hint of grimness. "Bryan already provided us with the key to this puzzle, didn''t he? Under normal circumstances, the Goblet of Fire would select only one champion per school¡ªthat''s been its purpose for centuries.

    Yet both you and Amos''s son were chosen to represent Hogwarts. This wasn''t some magical mishap or coincidence¡ªit could only have happened through deliberate interference with the Goblet''s ancient magic, and anyone capable of such powerful maniption was undoubtedly present in that room that night¡ª"

    Hermione''s mind raced through a mental catalog of everyone who had been present: the headmasters of the three schools, Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, Igor Karkaroff, Professor Watson, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Professor Moody, Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman from the Ministry, and of course, the four champions themselves¡ªCedric looking confused, Fleur indignant, Krum stoic, and herself, overwhelmed by it all.

    "I thought Professor Watson made that statement just to help me¡ª" Hermione''s voice trailed off uncertainly.

    "Clear your name?" Sirius finished her thought with a knowing smile. "You''ll find, young ones, that adults rarely speak with such simple intentions, especially in situations as unsimple as that one. Every word uttered in that room carried multipleyers of meaning.

    Of course, Bryan was partially attempting to defend your reputation, but I strongly suspect he was also sending a clear message to the hidden perpetrator¡ªessentially announcing that he had identified their method and warning them against any further rash actions¡ª"

    "But who could possibly be behind this?" Hermione''s question carried an urgent edge of desperation.

    Harry remained conspicuously silent, though Sirius''s knowing nce toward his position under the cloak showed he understood exactly where his godson''s suspicionsy.

    "I know precisely who you suspect, Harry, but I must disappoint you¡ªI don''t believe Snape is responsible for this particr plot."

    Anticipating Harry''s inevitable protest, Sirius quickly continued, his voice carrying a mix of old hatred and current rationality, "Believe me, we all share your distaste for Snivellus, Harry, but this situation requires objective analysis.

    I know him¡ªperhaps better than I''d like to¡ªand this isn''t his style at all. If he wanted to cause trouble for Hermione, he''d be more likely to tamper with potion ingredients during ss and then publicly berate her for alleged carelessness or ipetence or something."

    Harrypsed into a sulky silence, though the slight rustling of the Invisibility Cloak said he was still fidgeting with suppressed arguments.

    "That night¡ª" After effectively silencing Harry''s suspicions, Sirius fell into another contemtive pause, and his words began emerging slowly and deliberately. "Moody made a rather sharp observation¡ªthat whoever ced your name in the Goblet either harbored murderous intentions toward you or aimed to create chaos for Hogwarts."

    Sirius''s voice took on a thoughtful tone as he continued, "Hermione, did you happen to notice who caught Moody''s attention¡ªspecifically, who he was watching¡ªwhen he made that statement?"

    "The Durmstrang headmaster, Professor Karkaroff¡ª" Hermione''s response came quickly, her sharp memory instantly reconstructing the scene. Then her brow furrowed in confusion, her expression beneath the cloak shifting from realization to bewilderment. "Are you suggesting that the headmaster of Durmstrang Institute deliberately entered my name into the Goblet of Fire? But what possible motivation could he have?!"

    "Ah¡ª" Sirius took a slow sip of his drink, his casual shrug contradicting the seriousness of his words. "I''m not alone in this suspicion¡ªMoody clearly shares simr thoughts. Don''t underestimate stor Moody''s instincts. Though he''s officially retired now, he was absolutely legendary in the Auror department.

    His intuition for detecting dark magic and those who use it is practically supernatural. The mere mention of his name used to send hardened criminals into panic¡ªfar more effective than our current Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour, could ever hope to be."

    "But that night, Karkaroff was absolutely adamant in trying to invalidate my position as champion. He didn''t seem¡ª" Hermione''s voice trailed off as she struggled to reconcile this theory with her memories. If the Durmstrang headmaster truly was the culprit, his performance that night would have required extraordinary acting abilities.

    And why would he want to kill her? Hermione knew with certainty that she''d never had any prior interaction with him. Even if his goal was to embarrass Hogwarts, why would he specifically choose her from among all the potential targets?

    "Seem?" Sirius''s mouth twisted into a contemptuous sneer. "If I were orchestrating such a plot, I would also do everything in my power to appearpletely uninvolved. Hermione, those who harbor truly dark intentions are far more cunning than you might imagine, particrly someone of Igor Karkaroff''s... background."

    "You know him personally?" Even Harry caught the loaded implications in Sirius''s tone, and his voice rose with surprise.

    "Oh, Harry¡ª" Sirius''s contempt deepened visibly, his facial features darkening. "It would be nearly impossible not to know of him. Igor Karkaroff''s notoriety extends far beyond his current position as a headmaster¡ªI''m referring specifically to his time in Azkaban¡ª"

    Sirius cast a meaningful nce toward the rowdy group of Durmstrang students still crowding the bar, his expression growing even more somber. "I''ll be direct with you both: Igor Karkaroff was once in Voldemort''s inner circle. He was a Death Eater¡ªand don''t harbor any doubts about this fact. There''s concrete evidence, and he freely admitted it himself during his trial before the Wizengamot."

    His voice dropped even lower as he continued, "The only reason he avoided a fate simr to mine in Azkaban was his willingness to strike a deal. He convinced the Ministry of his supposed reformation, and to secure his freedom, he provided names¡ªmany names¡ªof his former ''colleagues.'' His testimony led directly to numerous arrests and subsequent imprisonments in Azkaban¡ª"

    Sensing the waves of shock emanating from the two invisible teenagers beside him, Sirius took a long drink from his ss and released a cold, humorlessugh. "Oh, and I nearly forgot one crucial detail... it was Moody himself who originally captured Karkaroff and brought him in for questioning!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0537 Confused

    0537 Confused

    "The headmaster of Durmstrang was a Death Eater?" Hermione''s voice cracked with disbelief. Her jaw dropped, causing her thick bushy hair to shift slightly around her shoulders as she leaned forward in her worn wooden chair.

    Harry, his eyes widening behind his round sses, slowly turned his head to study the rowdy group of Durmstrang students gathered at the bar. Their thick fur-lined cloaks stood out starkly against the Inn''s warm, firelit interior as they eagerly called out to Madam Rosmerta to keep serving drinks.

    Thinking of Krum''s surprisingly approachable demeanor and helpful nature, Harry said with obvious difficulty, "How is that possible? How could the school possibly allow--"

    "Hmph--" The sound was caught in his throat as Sirius cut him off with a cold, bitter snort. His tired face twisted into a grimace as he spoke.

    "There are plenty of strange and dark things in this world, far more than you might imagine," Sirius said absently tracing a deep groove in the ancient wooden table with one finger as he continued. "Honestly, Karkaroff isn''t exactly what you''d call a brave fellow - quite the opposite, in fact. I thought he''d never dare set foot in Britain again, not after everything that happened.

    Surprisingly, he somehow scraped together enough courage to bring his students here for the Triwizard Tournament, even knowing he''d have to face both Moody and Crouch. But that''s about the extent of his backbone, mark my words."

    Sirius''s eyes darkened as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "I''d bet myst Galleon that if there''s even the faintest whisper of his old master returning, he''ll run faster than a startled Hippogriff. He''s not foolish enough to think his past actions would ever be forgiven--"

    Sirius paused, taking a contemtive sip from his mug. When he continued, his voice carried a note of contempt. "This fellow isn''t exactly known for his magnanimity either, mind you. So, it wouldn''t surprise me if he harbors some festering resentment toward Dumbledore for stopping Voldemort back then. Or perhaps he''s seeking some petty revenge because Bryan managed to outmaneuver him, securing Hogwarts as the host of the Triwizard Tournament. Neither would shock me in the least."

    Hermione sat back in her chair, her fingers nervously twisting a strand of her bushy hair as she struggled to reconcile this new information with her experiences.

    The idea that Krum''s headmaster had once served Voldemort seemed utterly at odds with recent events - after all, hadn''t he helped them in a way during the chaos at the World Cup? And just days ago, Krum had gone out of his way to offer her valuable advice about handling the tournament tasks.

    "But--" Hermione began, biting her lower lip in that characteristic way she did when struggling with a particrly puzzling problem.

    Her brow furrowed in concentration as she leaned forward, lowering her voice even further. "I don''t understand. Even if Karkaroff is indeed a Death Eater, why would he specifically target me? It doesn''t make any logical sense, does it? I''d never crossed paths with him before he arrived at Hogwarts. Surely he wouldn''t just choose someone at random?"

    Faced with this pointed question, Sirius''s confident demeanor faltered slightly. The shadows under his eyes seemed to deepen as he shifted in his chair, showing that this particr puzzle had been keeping him awake at nights.

    "Yes," he admitted slowly, "if he had targeted Harry, that would be much easier to understand--"

    Harry''s face darkened noticeably at these words. It seemed that any conversation involving Voldemort inevitably circled back to him, like a curse he couldn''t escape.

    Unable to unravel this particr mystery, Sirius''s expression grew somewhat mncholic. He leaned back in his creaking wooden chair, staring up at the Inn''s exposed wooden beams with troubled eyes that seemed to see far beyond the ceiling.

    "What if--" Harry began tentatively, his forehead creasing with effort as he followed this line of thought to its logical conclusion. "What if Karkaroff had somehow heard of Hermione''s name before?"

    Noticing Hermione''s startled expression, Harry quickly exined, his wordsing faster as he worked through the theory. "Think about the World Cup incident - Krum must have mentioned it to his headmaster after returning to school. He might have told Karkaroff about helping you in the VIP box, and Karkaroff made particr note of it."

    While this exnation wasn''t impossible, it seemed rather far-fetched. Neither Hermione nor Siriusmented, though their silence spoke volumes.

    The crackling firece filled the thoughtful pause with its warm,forting sounds.

    "Karkaroff being the culprit is just Moody''s and my opinion," Sirius finally said, his fingers drumming absently on the scarred wooden table. "The truth might paint a different picture entirely--"

    He paused, his dark eyes flicking briefly to Harry and Hermione''s chairs. His expression shifted, bing guarded, almost hesitant, as if struggling with a particrly difficult decision. "Actually, there''s something you don''t know about. I''ve been debating whether to share this with you, as I gave my word to keep it absolutely confidential."

    "Oh, please tell us, Sirius!" The words burst from Harry and Hermione simultaneously. They exchanged quick nces through the shimmering fabric of the Invisibility Cloak. Harry leaned forward; his eyes bright with interest behind his sses.

    "Very well," Sirius conceded, his voice dropping even lower. He leaned forward, his long dark hair falling forward to partially shield his face from the casual observers. "But remember - this information doesn''t leave this table."

    His expression grew serious, almost mysterious in the tavern''s twirling shadows. " It''s like this: The day after you were chosen as champion, Hermione, I received an owl from Bryan. He requested a rather unusual favor. He wanted me to keep tabs on Barty Crouch, to monitor his movements within the Ministry without drawing attention to myself."

    "B-Barty Crouch?" Hermione stammered, her eyes growing as wide as Galleons.

    "Professor Watson asked you to--" Harry''s sharp intake of breath cut through his own words.

    The revtionnded between them like a thunderbolt,pletely toppling their previous theories.

    Neither of them had imagined that Professor Watson would suspect Barty Crouch.

    If forced to choose, both Hermione and Harry would undoubtedly ce their trust in Professor Watson''s judgment over almost anyone else''s. His track record spoke for itself, and his intuitions had been proven correct.

    But this particr suspicion seemed almost too fantastic to believe. Why would a highly-respected Ministry official, someone who had apparently dedicated his life to upholding magicalw, suddenly turn his attention to plotting against an unknown underage witch?

    The gears in Hermione and Harry''s minds were practically visible as they worked through this puzzle.

    Suddenly, their eyes met across the table, twin expressions of realization appearing on their faces as a memory struck.

    Their previous encounter with Barty Crouch came flooding back with crystal rity - that night at the Quidditch World Cup final, while searching for Harry''s missing wand. They had secretly entered the destroyed Quidditch pitch, only to witness another horrifying incident.

    Hermione had even directly confronted Crouch that night, her righteous anger overwhelming her usual caution. She had condemned him in front of everyone about his heartless treatment of his house-elf Winky, even after everyone had basically agreed that Winky couldn''t have been the one who conjured the Dark Mark.

    Harry, his mind racing with possibilities, eagerly shared his theory about this connection, then waited anxiously for Sirius''s assessment.

    "Don''t read too much into it, Harry--" Sirius''s response came with a gentle shake of his head, causing Harry''s enthusiasm to dete like a punctured balloon.

    A knowing chuckle escaped Sirius''s lips as he continued, "If Barty Crouch were the type to hold such a petty grudge over that kind of confrontation, he''d never have risen to his current position in the Ministry. I''m sharing this information because it might - or might not - be connected to Hermione''s selection as champion. The rtionship between Bryan and Barty Crouch is far moreplicated than you realize - it''s entangled in the web of Ministry politics. Anyway, this isn''t something you should be concerned about."

    "So what you''re saying is--" Hermione''s mind cut straight to the heart of the matter, "You called us here today to warn us about both the Durmstrang headmaster and Barty Crouch?"

    "And you need to keep a particrly watchful eye on that Durmstrang champion, Hermione--" Sirius''s voice took on a serious tone, "Yes, I know he assisted us during the World Cup chaos, but circumstances have changed. He wasn''tpeting against you then. You might have read about it in books - Durmstrang is quite different from Hogwarts. Their teaching methods..."

    He paused, choosing his words carefully. "Let''s say they''re considerably more aggressive in their approach. You understand my meaning, don''t you? If presented with an opportunity to eliminatepetition, I doubt he''d hesitate to seize it."

    His voice dropped even lower, barely audible above the growing noise of the pub. "Teaching Dark Arts is deeply woven into their school''s traditions. It shouldn''te as a surprise that they''d choose someone like Karkaroff - a Death Eater with a notorious reputation - as their headmaster."

    Beneath the protective cover of the Invisibility Cloak, Hermione and Harry exchanged meaningful nces. While neither voiced their disagreement with Sirius''s assessment of Krum, their silence spoke volumes about their skepticism.

    As the hands of the clock above the bar crept toward noon, the Three Broomsticks began filling with its usual diverse crowd - local vigers in their thick wool cloaks, elegant Beauxbatons students who seemed to float rather than walk, and the fur-d Durmstrang group.

    A hopeful customer eyed the seemingly empty chairs at their table, but Sirius smoothly deflected the inquiry, iming he was expecting additionalpany.

    Despite the valuable intelligence Sirius had shared during their covert meeting, Harry couldn''t quite shake a feeling of disappointment. He had harbored hope that Sirius would definitively identify the mastermind behind Hermione''s mysterious selection and exin their motivations. Instead, they had more questions than answers.

    Outside the frosted windows, a fine misty rain had begun to fall, shrouding Hogsmeade in an ethereal veil. In the distance, perched atop its lonely hill like a brooding watchman, the Shrieking Shack loomed through the haze, its battered walls and boarded windows keeping watch over the peaceful vige below.

    Through the flimsy curtain of rain, Hogsmeade seemed transformed into something out of a fairy tale - a vige that time had forgotten, where every cobblestone and timber beam held centuries of magical secrets.

    "There''s one more thing I need to warn you about, Harry--" After a moment of silence, Sirius spoke again, his voice carrying an edge of carefully controlled concern that immediately captured both of their attention. Though he spoke softly, the seriousness in his tone made his words cut through the growing tavern noise like a knife.

    "What is it?" Harry straightened in his chair, instantly alert. He realized that Sirius had saved this matter forst and Something in his manner said that this - this was what had truly prompted him to risk meeting them in person.

    "I''ve been in regr correspondence with Remus," Sirius began, his fingers absently tracing the rim of his mug. "We''ve been discussing recent events. The World Cup incident needs no exnation - you lived through that nightmare.

    But there''s more. The Ministry''s investigation into those masked wizards from the World Cup has turned up some... disturbing possibilities. Word is that those so-called Death Eaters were actually hired hands, and pulling their strings was someone far more dangerous - a genuine Death Eater."

    This ount stood in stark contrast to the Ministry''s official stance, as published in the Daily Prophet''s reassuring articles. But neither Harry nor Hermione needed to think hard about which version carried more weight - Sirius''s words and his connections had been proven reliable before.

    Harry''s brow furrowed deeply as he absorbed this information, his mind already racing ahead to its implications.

    "There are many signs indicating," Sirius continued, "that the Death Eaters are stirring, bing bolder again. And you have to ask yourself - what would give these cunning rats, who''ve spent over a decade skulking in the shadows of the gutters, the courage to show themselves now? The wizarding world isn''t just protected by Dumbledore anymore - we have Bryan as well. Unless--"

    <em>''Unless what?''</em>

    The unfinished sentence hung in the air like a curse.

    There was only one possibility - Only one thing could encourage Voldemort''s old followers - the sense that their master was regaining his strength.

    "Many eyes are fixed on Hogwarts right now, watching both Dumbledore and Bryan. And in the midst of all this scrutiny, we have this suspicious incident with the Triwizard Tournament - it''s impossible not to see potential connections. So please, Harry,"

    Sirius''s eyes bore into his godson''s with fierce intensity, "Stay alert at school. If anything seems out of ce, don''t try to handle it yourself. Dumbledore, Bryan, or Moody are all trustworthy people - let them handle the problems."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0538 Talks

    0538 Talks

    Harry pressed his lips together until they formed a thin, bloodless line, blinking rapidly as the harsh reality of the situation finally formed in his mind.

    He finally understood why Sirius looked so defensive¨C he believed that Voldemort was stirring from the shadows, gradually regaining his power, and would certainly make a move inevitably setting his sights on Harry as his primary target.

    The timing couldn''t have been worse, with the mysterious circumstances surrounding the Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts now directly involving Hermione, his closest and most trusted friend.

    Harry could see it written inly across Sirius''s face - he was terrified that Harry, true to his impulsive Gryffindor nature, might throw caution to the winds and do something catastrophically reckless that would put him directly in harm''s way.

    A wave of irritation washed over Harry. He had foolishly hoped that Sirius would finally stop treating him like some naive child who needed constant protection, who couldn''t possibly understand the seriousness of the situation. But here they were again, with his godfather''s protective instincts clearly unchanged despite everything they''d been through together.

    Hermione, noticing the subtle shifts in Harry''s mood, gently nudged his arm with her elbow. Her touch was light but insistent as she gestured for him to truly look at Sirius - not just see him, but really observe the man sitting before them.

    What Harry saw made his heart constrict painfully in his chest.

    Sirius sat there, his dark eyes fixed on where he knew Harry to be beneath the Invisibility Cloak, though they held none of the mischievous sparkle Harry remembered from those photographs. Instead, they were filled with a deep, almost overwhelming mncholy, his entire demeanor radiating a cautious concern.

    The sight triggered a memory that made Harry''s eyes burn with sudden emotion - the wedding photograph in the album Hagrid had given him, where a young handsome Sirius had stood proudly as his father''s best man.

    The obvious contrast to the man before him now was heart-wrenching. That youthful vigor had been stripped away by years in Azkaban, reced by premature aging and an ever-present wariness that seemed to weigh down his very soul. Where once stood a man, whoughed in the face of danger, now sat someone who had learned the true cost of recklessness through bitter experience.

    "Fine..." Harry finally grumbled, the wording out rough with suppressed emotion. His annoyance warred with his affection for Sirius as he added, "I''ll try not to be reckless, okay?"

    The promise felt like pulling teeth, but he couldn''t bear to see that worried look in Sirius''s eyes any longer.

    Hermione''s sudden burst ofughter broke the tension¡ª she, better than anyone, knew what a massive concession this was for Harry, who seemed to attract danger like a ma attracts iron filings.

    "Well, some reasonable adventures are still eptable¡ª" Sirius''s whole demeanor transformed as he let out a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders straightening as though a great weight had been lifted from them. A bright smile spread across his face, erasing years of worry lines in an instant. "I''m guessing you haven''t had lunch, have you?"

    Without waiting for an answer, Sirius raised his hand high in the air, calling out to Madam Rosmerta who was bustling behind the bar counter. "Excuse me¡ª Could we get some food? I''m starving¡ªand plenty of it, please!"

    His voice carried the warmth of genuine enthusiasm now that the heavier part of their conversation had passed.

    When Madam Rosmerta arrived with a tter of chicken sandwiches, the aroma wafting from them was heavenly.

    Both Harry and Hermione realized just how famished they were - their magical education wasn''t just mentally demanding, but physically as well. Their bodies were going through rapid growth, both physically and magically, requiring enormous amounts of energy to sustain. After a careful nce around the crowded pub, they eagerly reached out from beneath the Invisibility Cloak.

    Sirius watched with undisguised amusement as the sandwiches seemed to disappear into thin air, apanied by the sounds of eager chewing. His eyes crinkled with warmth as he casually asked, "By the way, I forgot to ask, why didn''t Rone with you? Is James''s Invisibility Cloak too small for all three of you now?"

    The questionnded like a stone in still water. Hermione''s posture suddenly stiffened, radiating difort. Though she knew Sirius couldn''t possibly see her eyes beneath the cloak, she found herself avoiding his general direction nheless, as if his gaze could pierce through the fabric of Invisibility cloak.

    "Well¡ª" Harry forced down his mouthful of food, his voice tinged with unmistakable displeasure, "I invited him, but he didn''t want toe. He borrowed the Firebolt, said he wanted to y some Quidditch¡ª"

    "Oh." The simple word carried volumes of understanding as Sirius''s smile dimmed slightly. He raised an eyebrow, his voice dropping to a gentle probe, "Has Ron been unhappytely?"

    The timing of the question couldn''t have been worse - Harry had just taken anotherrge bite of his sandwich. His violent coughing fit as he choked on his food was mercifully masked by the general noise of the busy pub.

    He grabbed desperately for the butterbeer Sirius had secretly slipped under the cloak, taking severalrge gulps while Hermione patted his back with increasing concern. Finally with his face flushed crimson from the ordeal, he managed to recover hisposure.

    "How did you know?!" The words burst from Harry in a gasp, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at Sirius.

    "Isn''t it obvious?" Rather than showing satisfaction at his insight, Sirius''s expression deepened with genuine concern. "Harry, Hermione, and Ron, you three have always been inseparable, the closest of friends. Harry, your fame has always been a given - everyone knows the Boy Who Lived. And now Hermione has be a Triwizard Champion, in what I''m hearing will be the most significant Tournament in history."

    Sirius leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to ensure privacy. "Bryan has apparently negotiated an agreement with the goblins to broadcast thepetition throughout other European countries. The only reason the Daily Prophet hasn''t been hounding you for interviews, Hermione, is because they''re pouring all their resources into promoting this historic event. Once thepetition begins, Hermione will be an international celebrity in her own right. That leaves only Ron..." He trailed off meaningfully.

    After a moment''s silence, Sirius''s brows furrowed deeply and he continued, "From what I understand of Ron''s personality, he''s not particrly emotionally mature or capable of handling pressure. It''s natural for him to feel alone and unhappy, but surely, you''ve all sat down and had a proper discussion about this? Haven''t you?"

    Harry turned to look at Hermione, only to find her shrinking away, deliberately avoiding his gaze. With increasing confusion, he slowly turned back to Sirius, his mouth slightly wide open as he began to realize the implications.

    "What are you talking about, Sirius?"

    Sirius caught his breath, taking a few moments to choose his words carefully before responding with gentle resignation, "Haven''t you realized, Harry, that Ron might be jealous of you and Hermione?"

    <em>''Ron? Jealous?''</em>

    The concept seemed so far-off that his mind initially rejected it outright. But, Harry''s eyes widened as the bustling pub around him seemed to fade into a blur, the chattering patrons, even Hermione and Sirius beside him, bing distant and indistinct, as though they existed in another dimension entirely.

    As if a dam had broken in Harry''s mind, memories began flooding back with crystal rity. His thoughts raced backward through time, reviewing Ron''s behavior with new understanding - from the moment Hermione''s name had echoed through the stunned silence of the Great Hall just a week ago, to their departure from Hogwarts few hours ago. Every sullen look, every muttered excuse, every moment Ron had withdrawn from theirpany - it all took on a new, painful significance.

    "Jealous."

    The word felt like acid on Harry''s tongue, igniting a fire in his chest that tried to consume him from within. The heat of it was suffocating, pressing against his lungs with each breath.

    "Jealous of what?" Harry''s voice emerged barely above a whisper, butden with building fury. "Jealous of my ugly scar that makes people stare and whisper wherever I go? Or maybe he''s jealous that someone''s targeting Hermione, plotting to use this Tournament to finish her off¡ª"

    A heavy silence fell between them as Harry continued his bitter monologue, his voice growing more strained with each word. "This is ridiculous. All this time, I thought he was worried about Hermione... maybe even scared for her safety, but to be jealous? To actually withdraw from us because of petty jealousy? It''s beyond stupid."

    Harry''s fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the tendons creaking audibly under the strain. The fire that had been building in his chest now zed in his eyes as he slowly turned to look at Hermione. The expression of distress on her face told him everything he needed to know even before he asked the question.

    "You realized it already, didn''t you?" His voice was deadly quiet now. "When was it?"

    Hermione remained silent for a moment.

    Finally, she responded in a small voice, "That night when I returned to Gryffindor Tower."

    Harry''s breathing suddenly became erratic. The friendship he had thought was unshakeable- it had developed deep, dangerous cracks, and both Hermione and Ron had been aware of it while he had wandered about in blissful ignorance like aplete fool!

    "Why," Harry ground out through clenched teeth, each word feeling like it might shatter his jaw, "why didn''t you tell me¡ª"

    The sight of tears welling up in Hermione''s eyes gave him pause, but she seemed unable to form an answer to his question. What could she possibly say?

    From his position across the table, Sirius could hear the heavy, agitated breathinging from beneath the Invisibility Cloak and could well imagine Harry''s current state of mind. After a moment''s hesitation, he spoke softly.

    "Perhaps you all need some honestmunication. Harry, I think you two need to talk to Ron. You can''t simply ignore your friend''s feelings."

    Sirius''s expression grew distant, haunted by memories. "You know about what happened between me, Remus, your father James, and Peter... Lately, I''ve found myself thinking, Harry, if we had paid more attention to Peter back at Hogwarts... if we had noticed his struggles, his insecurities... maybe, just maybe, he might have stayed on the right path¡ª"

    Harry stared at Sirius in utter disbelief. The betrayal of Peter Pettigrew had directly led to his parents'' deaths at Voldemort''s hands, and Sirius had spent twelve years in the living hell of Azkaban because of it. Harry knew, perhaps better than anyone, the depth of hatred Sirius harbored for his former friend. To hear such words of reflection and regret from him was nothing short of shocking.

    "I''ll talk to Ron!"

    The words exploded from Harry as he shot to his feet, the sudden movement causing the Invisibility Cloak to slide off, exposing both him and Hermione to the startled gazes of nearby patrons.

    The pub''s other customers stared in shock at their sudden appearance, but Harry was beyond caring about such trivial matters. His chest heaved with each breath as he continued through gritted teeth,

    "But before that, I''m going to punch him in the nose! Maybe that''ll knock some sense into his thick head!"

    "Harry!"

    Without another word, Harry snatched up his Invisibility Cloak and bolted toward the door. Hermione lunged after him, her fingers managing to brush the hem of his robes before they slipped away like water through her grasp.

    Harry rushed forward, ignoring the curious stares following his progress through the pub. The fire of betrayal burning inside him threatened to consume all rational thought. He couldn''t believe Ron could have such foolish thoughts, and especially, his behavior of hiding these thoughts seemed more like betrayal in Harry''s eyes!

    Just as he was about to push open the door, someone outside pulled it open first, intending to enter the Three Broomsticks. Harry''s momentum was too great to stop - he crashed headlong into the entering customer. The collision was violent, and the person on the other side clearly wasn''t prepared for such an impact. A pained cry pierced the air as she was thrown backward, directly into the arms of the man standing behind her!

    Bryan steadied Fleur, who had suddenly fallen into his arms, looked at her tear-filled eyes and bleeding nose, then nced at Harry who was holding his forehead against the bar counter, and was rendered speechless.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0539 Hogsmeade

    0539 Hogsmeade

    The cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade, usually echoing with nothing more than the soft whispers of winter wind, had taken on a different character in recent days.

    The magical vige''s shops, their wooden signs creaking gently in the breeze, primarily catered to the young witches and wizards of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On days when Hogwarts wasn''t hosting student visits, most shopkeepers could be found loungingzily in their doorways, basking in the weak Scottish sunlight that filtered through the perpetually misty air.

    Their lively conversations inevitably turned to the uing Triwizard Tournament, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they discussed about it.

    The arrival of the visiting students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, though rtively few in number, had transformed the vige''s usually subdued atmosphere. Their presence brought an unexpected vitality to the otherwise tranquil streets, their foreign ents and colorful uniforms adding sshes of life to the vige''s traditionally somber Scottish character.

    The initiative to introduce these international students to Hogsmeade had originated from young Gabrielle Dcour''s innocent request, and both Bryan and Dumbledore had recognized it as an excellent opportunity to ease the subtle tensions simmering between the three school.

    Fleur''s enthusiastic response to the vige had caught Bryanpletely off guard. Having observed her proud demeanor and generally dismissive attitude toward all things Hogwarts-rted, he hadn''t expected her sudden and intense fascination with Hogsmeade.

    In the span of three painstakingly long hours, their group had barely managed to traverse a quarter mile of the main street, as both Dcour sisters were entranced by every shop window, magical disy, and curious object they encountered.

    Bryan was painfully reminded of how exhausting it was to shop with women - thest time he''d experienced such torture was literally in his previous life. He couldn''t very well let two delicatedies carry their packages, especially when one was even younger than magical education age. Out of politeness and chivalry, he offered to carry their bags, and afterward, the two girls wentpletely wild with shopping.

    The sisters'' wealthy background became increasingly apparent with each purchase, their golden Galleons flowing freely as they acquired one exotic magical item after another. Their shopping spree showed no signs of fiscal restraint, each whimsical desire immediately transformed into a new purchase.

    The rising collection of packages soon began to overwhelm Bryan entirely, forcing him to resort to levitation charms just to manage their extensive purchases - that included everything from mountains of Honeydukes'' finest sweets to an rming quantity of Filibuster''s Fireworks (Gabrielle had bought many, perhaps finding Hogwarts nights too dull).

    Walking down the street, Bryan felt like a walking spectacle, he drew amused nces and poorly concealed snickers from passing vigers. Some even went so far as to pulling out the magical cameras. More concerning were the increasingly suggestive looks and whispered conversations that seemed to focus on him and Fleur, creating an air of juicy gossip.

    The situation reached new heights of absurdity when the sisters emerged triumphantly from Scrivenshaft''s Quill Shop, adding yet more packages to the orbital dance of shopping bags floating around Bryan like peculiar satellites.

    Fleur finally noticed Bryan''s increasingly darkening expression, but rather than showing any sign of remorse, she simply tossed her silvery hair with elegant defiance and shed him a dazzling smile - an action that only worsened matters.

    The vigers, with their rtively weak resistance to magical influence, were particrly vulnerable to the Ve''s natural charm, even more so than the young wizards at Hogwarts.

    Bryan realized with growing unease that his presence was likely the only thing preventing an avnche of admirers from approaching Fleur. The vigers'' increasingly pointed looks sent a chill down his spine - thest thing he needed was to be the subject of scandalous rumors in the magicalmunity.

    With sharp determination, he called out "Reega!"

    His voice cut through the murmur of the street, and with a distinctive pop, the house-elf he had previously assisted materialized before them.

    Reega, now fully recovered from her earlier period of weakness, executed a deep bow that brought her long nose nearly to the cobblestones.

    "Great Professor Watson, how may Reega serve you!" her squeaky voice rang with earnest devotion.

    Though Beauxbatons employed house-elves in their own right, making the sight not entirely foreign to Fleur, she couldn''t help but watch with curious interest as Bryan interacted with the creature.

    "If you please¡ª" Bryan''s voice softened considerably as he addressed the eager house-elf, "I''d appreciate it if you could deliver thesedies'' purchases to their quarters."

    "It would be Reega''s highest honor¡ª" The house-elf''s bow deepened even further before she disappeared with a crisp snap of her fingers, taking the impressive collection of packages with her.

    "Miss Dcour¡ª" Bryan began tactfully, pressing his lips together as he chose his words carefully, "I''ve just recalled some rather urgent matters requiring my attention, if you wouldn''t mind¡ª"

    "Oh!" Fleur''s sudden exmation of delight cut through his attempted escape. She pointed eagerly toward a shop in the distance, her blue eyes sparkling with renewed excitement. "That''s drags Wizardwear! It''s quite famous, with a branch in Paris. The weather here is so much colder than I anticipated - I simply must get some new clothing!"

    Bryan couldn''t help but note how women always "needed" new clothes, regardless of whether the weather had any actual bearing on the matter.

    Fleur''s swift departure toward the shop rendered Bryan''s carefully nned excuse utterly useless, leaving him standing alongside young Gabrielle.

    The younger Dcour sister turned to him with an expression of practiced innocence, batting her long eyshes and offering a sweet smile. Her entire demeanor showedplete confidence that Bryan wouldn''t abandon them here.

    This is all for the harmony and stability of European magical education¡ªBryan told himself internally, then after releasing a deeply resigned sigh that seemed toe from his very soul, he conceded, "Very well, let''s proceed - but after this shop, I sincerely hope we might find somewhere to rest. I''d rather duel with Dumbledore himself than continue shopping¡ª"

    "My sister always loses track of time when buying clothes- we''ll likely miss the evening feast¡ª" Gabrielle''s melodious giggle carried a hint of mischief as she spoke. The young girl, disying an almost rming level of trust in Bryan, wrapped her small fingers around his sleeve and practically dragged him toward drags Wizardwear.

    By the time Gabrielle had sessfully maneuvered Bryan through the shop''s doorway, Fleur had already found her target. She stood with perfect posture; her head tilted back elegantly as she gazed up at a magnificent dress suspended high on the wall.

    The shop''s proprietor, a witch with an expertly cultivated air of sophisticated helpfulness, was already engaged in what appeared to be an enthusiastic description of the garment''s many qualities.

    The dress in question was extraordinary - a masterpiece of magical tailoring that seemed to capture and hold light within its pristine white silk fabric. The cut was perfect, creating flowing lines that suggested both grace and dignity.

    Along the hem, enchanted crystals caught and reflected light like captured stars, creating an effect that somehow managed to convey both noble elegance and untouched purity. The overall effect was breathtaking, though Bryan couldn''t help but think it entirely impractical for daily wear at a wizarding school.

    "What are your thoughts?" Fleur''s voice carried a note of genuine pleasure as she turned to face Bryan, her eyes sparkling with an enthusiasm that matched the dress''s crystalline embellishments.

    Bryan chose his words with polite care, "While the dress is undeniably beautiful, I must point out that it seems rather impractical for attending sses or traversing the castle grounds. Furthermore, I doubt it would provide much protection against the Scottish Hignds'' notorious chill."

    Gabrielle covered her mouth to suppress a giggle, while Fleur''s response was to wrinkle her nose and huff in obvious disapproval of his practical considerations. Without further discussion, she instructed the eagerly hovering shopkeeper to retrieve the dress and prepare it for fitting.

    Bryan observed with growing resignation how the peculiar female obsession with clothing transcended age barriers. Gabrielle was just like her older sister, bingpletely absorbed in examining the rainbow of magical garments hanging throughout the shop.

    Seizing his opportunity, Bryan quickly imed the shop''s sole chair, a rather worn piece of furniture that nheless felt like a sanctuary after their lengthy shopping spree.

    To be honest, this was Bryan''s first time entering this shop. During his early years at Hogwarts, financial constraints had limited his options - his schrship fund barely covered essential educational expenses, forcing him to purchase his school robes from the more economical Madam Malkin''s shop.

    Even after he began earning some extra galleons in hister years, he had chosen to invest his modest wealth in magical research rather than frivolous clothing expenses, though he well remembered how some of his wealthier Slytherin housemates had regrly boasted about their purchases from this very shop.

    As his gaze wandered listlessly around the shop''s interior, Bryan found himself somewhat underwhelmed. To his practical eye, many of the disyed garments seemed to differ only in minor decorative details - a sash here, a pendant there, various embellishments that seemed to serve no purpose beyond inting the price.

    However, something unexpected caught his attention, causing him to abandon his hard-won seat. In an easily overlooked corner of the shop, far from the borate gowns and refined robes that dominated the space, hung several unremarkable garments crafted from doubleyered fabric. Their design was surprisingly practical, bearing a striking resemnce to Muggle athletic wear.

    Approaching the disy, Bryan reached out to examine the fabric, nodding unconsciously as his fingers assessed its quality. The material impressed him - smooth to the touch yet clearly durable, with properties that suggested bothfort and functionality.

    Taking a few steps backward, he studied the grayish-blue garment with growing interest. His expression shifted from casual observation to intense concentration as various possibilities began forming in his mind.

    "Has that particr outfit caught your fancy?" Fleur''s voice, tinged with surprise, suddenly broke through his contemtion. "It seems rather... ordinary, doesn''t it?"

    "Oh, not exactly¡ª" Bryan replied, running his fingers over the practical garment once more. "Actually, I believe this would serve excellently aspetition wear¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0540 Shopping

    0540 Shopping

    Bryan slowly turned his head to look at Fleur. She had transformed herself by changing into the white silk formal dress from earlier.

    The dress wasn''t just tailor-made for Fleur ¨C it was as if it had been conjured from pure moonlight specifically for her body.

    The exquisite craftsmanship was evident in every stitch and seam, the fabric flowing like liquid silver as it traced the elegant curves of her figure with an artist''s precision. Her exposed corbones caught the light like fine porcin.

    The diamonds meticulously embedded along the dress''s hem weren''t merely sewn on; they seemed to capture and release light in a mesmerizing dance, creating a constetion of sparkles that followed her every movement. The fringe that cascaded from the half-sleeves swayed with ethereal grace, each strand emitting a pure white luminescence that seemed to create a subtle halo around her arms.

    The true genius of the designy in its restraint. A few precious inches of delicate white gauze joined above the strapless bodice, creating an artful veil across what would otherwise have been a revealing neckline. This ingenious addition, rather than diminishing the dress''s allure, elevated it to something approaching haute couture.

    Fleur stood there in the shop''s warm lighting, bing the gravitational center of the room, drawing all eyes inevitably toward her radiance.

    Gabrielle, who lived with her sister''s beauty as a daily reality, was also momentarily stunned by this particr manifestation of it.

    The shop owner, a woman whose forty-plus years in the fashion industry had surely immunized her against most disys of beauty, couldn''t help but stare at Fleur with unconcealed admiration.

    The spell was broken, however, when Fleur''s perfectly shaped brows drew together in a frown, her eyes fixed with obvious distaste on the particrly utilitarian sportswear disyed behind Bryan.

    "You seriously expect us to appear before the entire European magicalmunity wearing those... those ugly clothes?" Her French ent became more distinct with her distress, adding musical notes of indignation to her words.

    Bryan''s response came with the calm detachment of someone examining a mildly interesting academic problem. He spoke as if he werepletely immune to the vision before him, his voice maintaining the same measured tone he might use to discuss the weather.

    "I think they''re quite nice, actually," he replied, continuing with official precision, "To better present the tournament to the audience, and for your own safety, champions must wear uniform attire during the tasks. Didn''t you know? It''s specified in the tournament regtions¡ª"

    "Impossible!" Fleur dered with absolute certainty. Her voice rang through the shop. "I know every single regtion by heart, down to thestma and period, and there has never been any rule about champions'' attire. Not one word!"

    Bryan''s response came with a casual dismissiveness. "That was before,"

    Noting the gathering storm in Fleur''s expression, he smoothly added, "It starts this year."

    Before she could voice her arguments, he continued, "I''ll add this use to the champions'' safety protocol regtions when I return. Champions who don''tply will lose points even if they execute their tasks with absolute perfection."

    Fleur''s chest rose and fell with barely contained fury, the diamonds on her dress catching the light with each indignant breath. She''d never seen anyone be so brazenly arbitrary while maintaining such a righteous air.

    Bryan, seemingly oblivious to the storm he had stirred, turned to the shop owner.

    "I''d like to order four sets of these outfits for the tournament champions," he stated, his tone shifting to business-like care. "Hmm..." He paused thoughtfully, "I''ll notify you when toe to Hogwarts to measure the champions. How long will it take, and what would be the cost?"

    The shop owner''s hands trembled with barely contained excitement, her eyes lighting up at the marketing possibilities in Mr. Watson''s order.

    "Only two days, Mr. Watson!" she eximed, her voice quivering with enthusiasm. "As for the cost..." her voice dropped to an eager whisper, "not a single Knut, Mr. Watson, if you''d permit me to¡ª"

    "Ah," Bryan cut in smoothly, having anticipated this exact proposal, "I''m afraid I must decline your request." He shook his head with skillful regret. "I cannot allow advertising on thepetition uniforms. If you wish to pursue promotional opportunities, you''ll need to negotiate directly with the goblins."

    "I''ve already inquired!" The shop owner''s excitement deted slightly, reced by a frustrated grumble.

    "Those ck-hearted goblins charge enough to buy an entire full-grown Hungarian Horntail! But Mr. Watson," she continued, her business acumen shining through, "I can offer you a very reasonable discount. Considering each champion needs to participate in three tasks, twelve sets would be sensible. Including the service fee, you''d only need to pay one hundred and fifty Galleons¡ª"

    Bryan''s eyebrow arched appreciatively at the owner''s meticulous nning. "Very well," he conceded, "we''ll proceed as you suggest. When youe to Hogwarts to measure the champions, I''ll have Argus handle the payment¡ª"

    "You truly intend to make us wear those hideous clothes in thepetition!" Fleur''s voice cut through their business discussion like a de of pure ice. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, "No, you absolutely cannot do this!"

    "Of course, I can, Miss Dcour¡ª" Bryan''s reply was apanied by a series of sharp neck cracks as he twisted his head, the sound echoing in the quiet shop. He rubbed his brow with weariness and said. "Are we finished here? Have you decided whether to purchase this dress?"

    The sudden shift in topic caught Fleur off-guard, momentarily derailing her building tirade. His reminder brought her back to her original purpose in trying on the dress.

    "What... Oh, the dress!"

    Taking several deep breaths topose herself, Fleur made a conscious decision to temporarily set aside the uniform debate, unwilling to let itpletely spoil what should have been a perfect moment. Her natural grace reasserted itself as she pushed aside her irritation.

    "What do you think?"

    The pretty smile that was her birthright returned to her face as she executed a perfect twirl, her arms spread wide in an elegant gesture that showed off the dress to its full advantage.

    "I already have a dress prepared for the Yule Ball," she said, her voice carrying a hint of coquettishness, "but I believe this one is even more beautiful. What do you think? If you like it..."

    "It''s fine," Bryan said with devastating briefness.

    Fleur waited expectantly, sure that morementary would follow such an inadequate response. But Bryan had apparently exhausted his capacity for fashion criticism with those two words.

    Instead, he turned carelessly toward the shop window, his attention caught by the first drops of rain beginning to fall outside. He muttered something under his breath about the weather, his tone carrying clear disapproval.

    Fleur stood frozen in ce as if struck by a particrly powerful Petrificus Totalus, her cheeks gradually flooding with color until they matched the pink roses in the shop''s window disy. Her breathing became rapid and shallow, while beside her, Gabrielle pressed her small hands against her mouth to contain her growing amusement at her sister''s predicament.

    "Never mind!" The word exploded from Fleur with all the force of a sting curse. She whirled around and stormed back to the changing room, the dress swirling around her like angry storm clouds.

    The aftermath of the drags Wizardwear incident left a visible mark on Fleur''s typically boundless shopping enthusiasm. She moved through the vige streets at a pace that said she was trying to outrun her own embarrassment.

    Even Gabrielle''s gentle attempts at constion fell on deaf ears, causing her to miss entirely theplex look Bryan casted after her retreating figure.

    "Achoo!"

    The sharp sound of Gabrielle''s sneeze cut through the steadily intensifying patter of rain. Fleur had been intent on returning directly to the school carriage, but the weather had other ns.

    The wind was picking up force now, driving the rain at an angle that seemed designed to find every gap in their clothing. Only then did Fleur notice her sister''s condition ¨C Gabrielle''s silvery bangs were stered to her forehead, her thin body trembling against the cold, damp wind that cut through the vige streets.

    When Gabrielle turned herrge eyes toward her sister, they held such a pitiful expression that Fleur''s protective instincts immediately overwhelmed her personal distress.

    "Alright¡ª"

    Fleur wrapped a protective arm around Gabrielle''s shoulders, her eyes scanning the row of shops on either side of the rain-slicked street with new purpose. The earlier irritation in her voice had transformed into sisterly concern.

    "We can find somewhere to shelter from the rain and get something to eat¡ª"

    The realization that it was already lunchtime coincided with her spotting the Three Broomsticks through its fog-misted windows. The warm glow from within revealed theforting sight of numerous patrons moving about.

    With careful steps, Fleur guided Gabrielle across the treacherously slippery cobblestones toward the pub''s entrance. Behind them, Bryan''s gaze also turned toward the shop, but his brief assessment of the scene within caused his brow to furrow with concern, and his pace quickened.

    Focused on Gabrielle''sfort, feeling the rming chill of her sister''s arm through her sleeve, Fleur''s protective instincts urged her forward. She reached for the mist-covered door handle, eager to get her sister into the warmth.

    But as she pulled the heavy door open and stepped across the threshold, a dark figure suddenly burst forth from within, moving at reckless speed. Before Fleur could process what was happening, before she could utter a warning cry, she felt something solid collide with her nose, and then¡ª

    "Oh!"

    The pain that exploded through her face was extraordinary, the kind that made sparks dance behind her eyelids and threatened to send her consciousness fleeing.

    The force of the impact destroyed her bnce, sending her stumbling backward. In that moment of weightless terror, she was certain she would end up face down across the wet cobblestones ¨C until she found herself caught against something solid and warm!

    Bryan had moved with unexpected speed, catching Fleur''s falling form while simultaneously reaching out to steady Gabrielle, who had also been caught in the chaos. After ensuring both sisters were stable, he shifted slightly to examine Fleur''s nose, which was already showing signs of swelling. A heavy sigh escaped him as he recognized the culprits of this collision.

    "Potter, and Granger," he called, his voice carrying a mixture of resignation and exasperation.

    His gaze moved between Harry, who stood near the bar holding his forehead with an expression of shocked panic, and Hermione, who was hurrying over with equal parts concern and guilt written across her face.

    "Is today a Hogsmeade visiting day?" Bryan''s question carried the weight of someone who already knew the answer but feltpelled to ask anyway. "How exactly did you end up here?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0541 Unlucky

    0541 Unlucky

    <em>''Is there anyone more unfortunate than me?''</em> Harry thought desperately, his heart pounding frantically against his ribs as Professor Watson''s tall, imposing figure materialized through the misty Scottish afternoon. He had sneaked out to Hogsmeade with Hermione, but ended up running into Professor Watson, and on top of that, he had injured the Beauxbatons champion.

    The incident brought back vivid memories of the previous ident in Hagrid''s pumpkin patch, it was said that the girl, who seemed to have Ve blood, had been injured therest time, which greatly angered the headmaster of Beauxbatons and even rmed Dumbledore!

    Harry''s eyes fixed on Fleur''s face, where blood flowed freely from her nose, staining her Beauxbatons uniform and no matter how he looked at it, her injury didn''t seem any lighter than thest time.

    Hermione ran to Harry''s side; her bushy brown hair wild from their hasty exit from the Three Broomsticks. Her face drained of color as she recognized the injured party - her fellow Triwizard champion, the part-Ve who had already suffered once before at Hogwarts. The sight of Fleur''s blood-soaked cor and pained expression caused Hermione to gasp audibly as her hands flew to cover her mouth in horror.

    Bryan certainly knew how Harry and Hermione had managed toe here, as Sirius was pushing his way through the crowd like a determined battering ram, towards the inner circle!

    "Let me take a look¡ª" Fleur''s condition made Bryan sigh with frustration; this girl seemed to be having a bit of bad lucktely. He didn''t interrogate Harry and Hermione further, but squatted down and said softly. The cobblestones beneath his knees were damp from the continuous Scottish mist, but he paid no mind to the difort.

    Fleur let out a painful whimper, unwilling and embarrassed to let everyone see her in such a state. Her blue eyes were filled with tears as she looked at Bryan with a touch of grievance.

    Non-magical injuries were not that troublesome to deal with. Bryan moved his wand gently to target the injury. The flow of blood ceased instantly, and Fleur''s nose returned to its original alignment. However, even as he performed the healing magic, his mind was already racing ahead to the diplomatic nightmare this would undoubtedly cause.

    Madame Maxime, already on edge from the previous incident, would likely view this second injury as proof of Hogwarts'' inability to ensure her students'' safety.

    Gabrielle, Fleur''s younger sister, showed her protective fury after she helped Fleur to her feet. Her small body seemed to grow with indignation as she turned her zing eyes toward Harry.

    "Why did you hurt my sister!" She demanded, in her thick French ent.

    Fleur''s reaction was more restrained, though no less intense. Her recognition of Harry and Hermione was evident in her eyes - after all, who wouldn''t recognize the famous Harry Potter, with his characteristic lightning bolt scar and he was also the one who guided her to Bryan Watson''s office on the night she arrived at Hogwarts, or the other girl who was somehow the fourth champion like her.

    But rather than immediately express anger, she watched Bryan with keen interest, clearly waiting to see how he would handle this delicate situation.

    Sirius finally broke through thest ring of spectators who were the strong Durmstrang students and his dark robes were slightly disheveled from the effort.

    His face showed aplex mixture of emotions as he nced between his godson, Hermione, and then at the calm-faced Bryan, before settling on the injured Fleur. He was feeling somewhat embarrassed - after all, it was his letter that had brought the children to Hogsmeade in the first ce.

    "Oh, I am very sorry¡ª" Sirius stepped forward, naturally positioning himself between the children and any potential consequences. His voice carried the smooth, aristocratic tones of his upbringing as he attempted to diffuse the situation. "The child who just bumped into you is my godson. We had a bit of a disagreement just now, and he was a bit emotional which led to this unfortunate incident. We are, of course, willing topensate in any way¡ª"

    Bryan''s intervention came swiftly, his voice carrying a tone of regret. "I''m sorry¡ª" he said, meeting Fleur''s gaze directly. "This falls under my responsibility as a professor. I should have maintained better oversight."

    Fleur nced at Bryan and felt a strange sense of disappointment. She realized that Bryan''s apology was not because he was on her side, but rather, he was trying to take responsibility for the two young wizards from Hogwarts.

    "No!" Harry''s voice cracked with emotion as he pushed past Sirius''s protective posture. His face was as pale as Nearly Headless Nick, but his green eyes zed with determination. "It has nothing to do with Professor Watson. This is my fault. I am very sorry." Then he added emotionally, "If you wish, you can take a swing at my nose."

    The offer drew surprised murmurs from the growing crowd of onlookers who had gathered to witness the drama unfolding in the middle of Hogsmeade''s main street.

    The misty rain continued to fall, creating a somber backdrop to the scene.

    But Fleur''s response was unexpectedly calm.

    "There''s no need to feel guilty; it was just an ident¡ª" She shook her head listlessly, causing droplets of water to fall from her silvery hair. "Let''s go, Gabrielle. I have no interest in this ce anymore. Let''s go back to the carriage."

    With that, she took the hand of the indignant Gabrielle, who was still ring at Harry, and without saying goodbye to Bryan, she turned around and left quickly.

    Their swift departure with Fleur''s indifferent attitude intensified Harry''s guilt. His shoulders slumped visibly, and his earlier boldness crumbled into genuine remorse. Yet beneath that guilt, a deeper anger toward Ron simmered - after all, this whole mess could be traced back to that idiot.

    But that was a problem for another time; right now, he had to face Professor Watson, whose calm demeanor somehow made the situation even more intimidating.

    Undoubtedly, he had caused trouble for Professor Watson. If the girl went back and told her headmaster, then Professor Watson would have to go to great lengths to appease Beauxbatons.

    "I''m sorry, Professor Watson, we I¡ª" Harry''s attempt at an exnation faltered and died in his throat. Behind him, Sirius maintained his encouraging smile, smiling at Bryan, as if certain he would not punish Harry and Hermione too harshly.

    "Come to my office after dinner to receive your punishment for sneaking out of school, Potter and Granger¡ª" Bryan red at Sirius, sessfully making him look embarrassed, then said to Harry and Hermione, "Now, go back to the school immediately and stop wandering around, or I will inform Professor McGonagall¡ª"

    The threat of McGonagall''s involvement hung in the air like a sword of Damocles. Sirius, recognizing the need for a swift exit, gave Harry''s shoulder a reassuring pat.

    "Go ahead¡ª" he urged them. "Don''t go out of the castle after dark, and then have a good talk with Ron¡ª"

    Harry and Hermione exchanged a nce filled with mutual understanding and a shared sense of relief; they had been granted a reprieve, albeit a temporary one.

    With a final, apologetic look at Professor Watson, they turned and began to make their way back towards Hogwarts. The misty rain continued to fall, casting a gloomy shroud over the vige, as if the very weather echoed their somber mood.

    As they walked, the usually bustling atmosphere of Hogsmeade seemed quiet, or perhaps it was just their own moods coloring their perceptions. The brightly colored signs of the various shops¡ªHoneydukes, Zonko''s Joke Shop, Scrivenshaft''s Quill Shop¡ªall seemed dulled and less inviting than usual. The delicious scents wafting from the Three Broomsticks and Madam Puddifoot''s Tea Shop, normally so enticing, now seemed sickly and overly sweet.

    Meanwhile, Sirius and Bryan watched as the two young Gryffindors disappeared into the mist. Sirius turned to Bryan, as a wry smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. "Would you like a drink, Bryan? My treat, of course."

    "I had nned to¡ª" Bryan said with a dark expression, "but now I''m not in the mood."

    Sirius nodded understandingly, his smile fading.

    Bryan''s gaze shifted to the alley opposite the Madam Puddifoot''s Tea Shop, his mind already moving on to the next issue that required his attention. "Clearly, this ce is no longer suitable for conversation," he said, his voice barely audible over the murmur of the crowd. "Would you mind if we stepped somewhere more private?"

    Sirius agreed, and the two men turned into the secluded alley. The alley was narrow, the buildings on either side leaning in as if sharing secrets. The scent of damp stone and old magic hung heavily in the air, providing a stark contrast to the busier streets they had left behind.

    "What happened with Harry and Ron?" The two stood under the eaves, and Bryan asked casually, "Did the two boys have a fight?"

    "It''s about Hermione''s champion status¡ª" Sirius shrugged, "You know, that kid Ron has always felt pressured among his siblings, longing to stand out, but he never gets much attention next to Harry."

    Bryan nodded in understanding.

    Harry, Ron, and Hermione¡ªin this small group, Harry was undoubtedly the center of attention wherever he went, and Hermione, due to her outstanding grades, also had some fame, not to mention that she was now the fourth champion of Hogwarts. Being friends with these two outstanding young wizards, it was easy to imagine the pressure and strange looks Ron would face.

    However, Bryan had no intention of intervening; this was their own business, or one could say, an inevitable pain in the process of growing up.

    "Tell me about Barty Crouch¡ª" Bryan said, "Has he been up to anythingtely?"

    Sirius leaned against the damp wall; his arms crossed over his chest. "You know, Bryan, I can''t always stay at the department, but when I do return to report, I can probe around a bit from others," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "So far, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Crouch is still doing his usual routine, workingte into the night as he always does. He''s almost always thest one to leave the office."

    He paused, his gaze shifting to the misty street beyond the alley. "Well, If I had to mention, something, it would be about Percy¡ª"

    "Percy?" Bryan''s interest was piqued, and he leaned in slightly, encouraging Sirius to continue.

    "Yes" Sirius said, rubbing his chin as he recalled the details. "I overheard Arthur boasting about it. Crouch seems to highly value Percy. Now, he lets Percy make decisions on some less important or urgent matters, while he spends most of his time in the office."

    Bryan''s eyes narrowed, his mind racing as he processed this information.

    Sirius continued, "But this actually isn''t anything unusual. It''s said that he was injured during a visit to Hungary and should have gone to St. Mungo''s for a period of recovery, but we all know he wouldn''t waste his precious time there. He must be feeling exhausted, so handing some unimportant work to Percy isn''t surprising¡ª"

    Sirius looked at Bryan and his brow furrowed tightly after sensing Bryan''s concern. "What''s going on, Bryan? Why do you want me to keep an eye on Crouch? Do you think what''s happening at Hogwarts is rted to him?"

    Bryan''s eyes flickered briefly, his expression carefully neutral. He met Sirius''s gaze steadily, but offered no immediate response. Seeing his expression, Sirius immediately understood that he wouldn''t get any answers from Bryan. Not yet, at least.

    "Alright¡ª" Sirius sighed, resignation evident in his voice. "I know you have many important things to think about, but I hope you can help keep an eye on Harry, oh, and Hermione and Ron too. They are already overwhelmed by the champion matters¡ª"

    Bryan and Sirius didn''t talk for long; after all, they had already exchanged information through letters. As for Sirius''s final request, He understood Sirius''s concern, but he also knew the delicate bnce he had to maintain. Before Voldemort''s wish was fulfilled, he had to ensure a certain distance from these three youngsters, no matter how much he might wish to intervene more directly.

    The rain was misty, and only the green mountains could be seen.

    Bryan turned out of the alley, hoping to return to Hogwarts immediately, but there were still many Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students in Hogsmeade. He had to wait until dinner time to gather these students and return to Hogwarts together.

    After thinking for a moment, he decided to go to the Hog''s Head Inn to pass the time; at least during the day, it was quite peaceful there. But after turning around, Bryan hesitated and looked back towards the drags Wizardwear store they had just left.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

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    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 0542 Fool

    0542 Fool

    "Harry! Harry!"

    Hermione''s desperate cries echoed through the ancient, crumbling secret passage, her voice bouncing off the stone walls that had witnessed centuries of Hogwarts secrets.

    The musty air filled her lungs as she pushed herself harder, her feet pounding against the uneven ground. Despite all the physical training she''d done since joining the Bryan''s PE ss, the difference in their athletic abilities was apparent.

    Harry''s longer legs and years of Quidditch training gave him an advantage ¨C with each passing second, the distance between them grew like an ever-widening chasm.

    "Stop, Harry!" she called out, her voice cracking with desperation.

    As the passage began to curve in a familiar arc, Hermione''s heart raced faster. Her mind, always quick to analyze, recognized they were approaching the castle. And regret crashed over her in waves, about to drown her resolve.

    Two distinct realizations tormented her racing thoughts.

    First, she cursed herself for mentioning that Professor Watson wouldn''t hold him ountable for injuring Fleur, since the professor''s evening office detention was just for sneaking out of school. That single piece of information had effectively removed thest thread of hesitation holding Harry back, like removing the final barrier before a flood.

    But even more devastating was her second regret ¨C the crushing weight of having kept Ron''s conflicted feelings hidden all this time. She now understood this was the true reason for Harry''s explosive anger.

    The betrayal he felt cut twice as deep ¨C not just from Ron''s jealousy and little thoughts, but also from Hermione''s silence in all these happenings. She had observed everything yet chose to remain quiet in a misguided attempt to maintain their friendship, which made things even worse.

    "Please listen to me, Harry!" Hermione''s voice shattered the darkness, dense with emotion and wobbling on the edge of tears. Her chest burned with each breath, and her hair had be a wild storm of curls, dampened with sweat and the tunnel''s moisture.

    Harry could hear every desperate call, every pleading note in Hermione''s voice that seemed to break into sobs. But the fire raging in his chest consumed all reason. The fire of betrayal spread through his veins like molten metal, setting every nerve ending burning. Running was his only release, the physical exertion the only thing that could possibly match the intensity of his emotional turmoil.

    As he sprinted through the oppressive darkness, memories flooded his mind with cruel rity. Every moment shared with Ron and Hermione over their years at Hogwarts yed like a bitter slideshow ¨C from that first meeting on the Hogwarts Express, where everything seemed so simple and full of wonder, to this very day.

    The images came rapid-fire: the three of them navigating the challenges protecting the Philosopher''s Stone, their hearts pounding as they pieced together the mystery of the basilisk, and the wild night they chased what they thought was a murderous Sirius ck through the forbidden forest, only to discover a truth far moreplex.

    More memories surged forward: the exhrating and terrifying flight in Mr. Weasley''s enchanted Ford Anglia, the mind-bending experience of using the Time-Turner with Hermione to save multiple lives and capture peter.

    Each recollection felt like a knife twisting in his gut, made sharper by the realization that what he had thought was an unshakeable friendship ¨C one he hadpared to the bond between Sirius, Remus, and his parents ¨C now seemed to be crumbling like the very walls of this secret passage.

    And now Sirius using Peter''s example as a hint of warning rang in his ears with new implication. At least, Harry believed it as a warning from Sirius''s words.

    The simrity was almost impossible to ignore ¨C as it was a tale of friendship corroded by jealousy and doubt.

    In Harry''s current state, anger and fear had be indistinguishable, melding into a singr burning need to confront Ron and make him feel even a fraction of the pain he was experiencing. The image of his fist connecting with Ron''s freckled nose became an obsessive focus, a goal that drove him forward through the darkness.

    <strong>Whoosh--</strong>

    The sudden explosion of brilliant white light assaulted Harry''s dark-adjusted eyes as they emerged from the passage. Having been running full-tilt in nearplete darkness, the transition left him stumbling and disoriented.

    This momentary weakness gave Hermione her chance ¨C she finally closed the gap, practically falling through the opening behind the humpbacked witch statue. Her usual appearance was reced by windswept hair and obvious tear tracks down her flushed cheeks.

    Harry pressed himself against the corridor''s frost-touched window, squinting through the ss at the grounds below as he waited for his vision to clear.

    Hermione, still gasping for breath, lunged forward and seized his robes in a desperate grip. But Harry had already spotted his target through the window ¨C three distant figures soaring through the air over the grounds.

    With a violent twist, he wrenched his robes free from Hermione''s grasp, his movements driven by single-minded purpose as he prepared to race downstairs.

    "What are you trying to do, Harry!" Hermione threw herself between Harry and his path to the stairs, with her arms spread wide like a human barrier.

    When Harry spoke, his voice came out in a tone he had never used with Hermione before ¨C harsh, cold, and brittle as winter ice.

    "Move aside, Hermione. I''m going to find Ron Weasley and rearrange his face. And if I''m lucky, maybe I''ll crack open that thick skull of his and see just how many ridiculous ideas are floating around in that empty head!"

    "Don''t do this, Harry!" Hermione pleaded in desperation. "Sirius only wanted you to talk to him properly--"

    "Oh, I''ll talk to him alright!" Harry''s voice rose to a shout that echoed off the stone walls. "But only after his nose matches Fleur Dcour''s. Maybe then his head will be clear enough for a proper conversation!"

    When Harry was truly determined, there was no force at Hogwarts that could hold him back ¨C not even Hermione''s pleadings.

    What followed was a chaotic chase through the castle''s corridors, past startled portraits and shocked students. Harry moved like a man possessed, taking the marble staircase two and three steps at a time before he burst through the heavy oak doors onto the misty grounds.

    There, on the Quidditch pitch, Ron was soaring through the air with Seamus and Dean, he was riding Harry''s Firebolt, while Seamus and Dean struggled to keep up on their considerably slower Cleansweep brooms. Despite the dreary weather and fine mist that hung in the air like a silver veil, all three seemed to be having the time of their lives as theirughter was carrying across the grounds like a personal insult to Harry''s pain.

    "GET DOWN!" Harry''s furious voice tore through the peaceful scene like lightning. He drew his wand with speed, sending a brilliant red spark screaming into the sky. "GET DOWN, WEASLEY!"

    The sudden explosion of noise and light shattered the trio''s in-flight rhythm, nearly causing a mid-air collision as they turned sharply in surprise. Upon spotting Harry on the ground below, they exchanged concerned nces before Ron reluctantly guided the Firebolt down.

    "What''s wrong?" Ron''s voice carried a forced casualness as he nced between Seamus and Dean, who werending behind him, and then to Harry and the clearly distressed Hermione, who had finally caught up, bent over and was gasping for breath.

    Harry remained silent, his eyes zing as they fixed on Seamus and Dean. The two boys didn''t need legilimency to read the situation ¨C Harry''s fury was palpable, and Hermione''s frantic gestures behind his back made it clear they needed to leave.

    "We forgot about lunch--" Dean said with obviously manufactured surprise, pping his forehead in an exaggerated gesture. He shot Seamus a meaningful look, and both boys quickly left.

    "What''s this all about?" Ron''s attempt at confusion couldn''t mask the underlying anxiety in his voice. His eyes kept darting to Hermione, who stood with her head bowed, unable or unwilling to meet his gaze. And something about Harry''s stance made it impossible for Ron to maintain eye contact with him.

    Now that the moment of confrontation had arrived, Harry found his rage momentarily tempered by the reality of facing his friend. The desire to physicallysh out still burned beneath his skin, but the words he had rehearsed in his mind seemed to evaporate like the mist surrounding them.

    "Didn''t you go to see Sirius?" Ron finally forced himself to look at Harry directly, though a sh of unease crossed his face before he quickly looked away again.

    "Yeah!" Harry''s response came out in sharp, clipped bursts between heavy breaths. "Thanks to him, I finally understood some things... like how you''ve always wanted an ugly scar on your forehead too!"

    "Harry, please don''t--" Hermione''s voice was barely a whisper as she poked his side, her lower lip trembled as fresh tears began to spill from her eyes.

    The color drained from Ron''s face as though he''d seen a ghost, his pupils contracted as fear began to conceal the defensive light in his eyes.

    His reaction sent conflicting emotions coursing through Harry ¨C a twist of guilt quickly followed by a surge of vindictive satisfaction.

    Truth be told, he hadn''t been having an easy timetely. Hermione had been chosen as the Triwizard champion, and many theories suggested this wasn''t just a prank but a carefully nned conspiracy. He''d been worried about this constantly, and Ron... he had thought Ron would be just as concerned, perhaps even more so than himself, but the reality turned out to bepletely different!

    "Don''t understand, do you?" Harry''s fists were clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white, and his eyes bored into Ron''s pale face. "What were you really thinking about Hermione bing champion!"

    Hermione''s lower lip was bleeding slightly from biting it. She hugged herself and turned away, not wanting Harry and Ron to see her tears.

    Ron''s face had moved beyond pale to ashen, looking as though all the blood had beenpletely drained from his body. His eyes fixed on the Firebolt in his hands with such intensity it seemed he was considering making a desperate aerial escape from this confrontation.

    "What''s wrong, got nothing to say?" Harry''s words came out between heavy breaths, dripping with bitter satisfaction. "Perhaps you''ve finally realized what a fool and idiot you''ve been!"

    "I''m not a fool!" Ron''s head snapped up suddenly, his eyes meeting Harry''s with unexpected ferocity. Gone was the evasion, reced by raw anger as he roared, "And I''m not an idiot!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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 0543 Rage

    0543 Rage

    In a sudden explosion of rage that seemed to burst forth from the depths of his soul, Ron violently threw Harry''s Firebolt to the wet ground. The broomsticknded with a sickening thud at Harry''s feet with mud spattering across its surface. His sudden outburst caught both Harry and Hermione off guard, making them flinch visibly.

    "Is that so?" Harry''s voice cut through the tense air like a de of ice after a moment of charged silence. His eyes had turned hard as stone behind his rain-speckled sses. "Well, from where I''m standing, you''re nothing but a pathetic fool!"

    As if nature itself sought to heighten the drama of the moment, a fierce gust of wind howled through the grounds from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. The trees swayed ominously in the distance as the weather shifted dramatically. The gentle misty drizzle transformed into sheets of steadily falling rain, each drop feeling like a tiny needle against their skin.

    Hermione shivered violently, though the physical cold paled inparison to the freezing atmosphere that had fallen between her two best friends. The chill that gripped her heart felt far more brutal than any weather Scond could conjure.

    "Can''t we stop this?" Hermione''s voice cracked with desperation as she pleaded with her confronting friends. The grounds had emptiedpletely now, leaving the three of them isted in their private storm. The rain-soaked grass stretched out around them like a deste battlefield, as not another soul was visible through the curtain of rainfall.

    But her desperate plea had no positive effect. If anything, it seemed to have the opposite effect as it only fueled the anger between Harry and Ron, who at this moment couldn''t stand the sight of each other.

    "You have no right to talk to me like that!" Ron''s words came through clenched teeth.

    Unlike Hermione, Harry had surrenderedpletely to his rage now, letting it consume him like Fiendfyre. He red at Ron with unprecedented loathing, finding every detail of his former best friend''s appearance suddenly intolerable ¨C from his sopping ginger hair to his hand-me-down robes that exposed his ankles. The wind and rain drenching him barely registered in his consciousness, as all his senses were focused solely on his target.

    "You know being a champion isn''t what Hermione wanted!"

    Harry''s shout tore through the rain-filled air, his vision swimming either from the rain-water or pure fury. Each word he hurled at Ron felt like a release valve for his anger.

    "You know she''s going to face ridicule and mockery! You know the dangers she will face might go far beyond just the tournament tasks! But you ignore all that, obsessing over those stupid Galleons and fame, and you still don''t think you''re being an absolute fool!"

    "Don''t you dare act like you''re the only noble one here, Potter!"

    Ron''s answering roar was raw in his rage, drowning out even the thunderous crashes of waves against the distant cliffs.

    For one terrible moment, his hands twitched with the overwhelming urge to smash Harry''s sses into his face. Only ast thread of restraint held him back. Seeing how his words had stunned Harry, it gave him a rush of savage satisfaction, but he also couldn''t bear to remain there any longer.

    His eyes flickered briefly to Hermione, who stood helpless and shivering in the downpour. His lips parted slightly, conflict and hesitation twirling in his eyes, but whatever words might havee died unspoken. Instead, he turned sharply toward the castle, his movement sending water flying from his sopping robes.

    "Don''t you dare walk away, you COWARD!"

    The usation of cowardice was the final spark needed to ignite the powder keg.

    Harry totally enraged by Ron''s attitude lunged forward with a furious cry just as Ron spun back around,pletely losing control. Meanwhile, his use of the word ''coward'' also made Ron lose his mind. In the crescendo of falling rain, the two boys who had once been closer than brothers raised their fists against each other.

    Their bodies collided with brutal force as they crashed onto the muddywn, rolling and grappling like wild animals. Guttural sounds of rage and pain came from them as they fought with desperate fury. The howling wind and stinging rain seemed to mock their struggle, as if nature itself wasughing at these young boys experiencing their first real taste of friendship''s bitter ending.

    Hermione threw herself into the fight with desperate courage, trying to wedge herself between the fighting boys. But she was no match for two adolescent boys consumed by blind rage. In the chaotic tangle of limbs, someone''s elbow connected sharply with her front teeth. She let out a painful cry and stumbled backward, nearly losing consciousness from the sudden explosion of pain.

    "Oh, dear!"

    The wet ground trembled beneath massive footsteps as Hagrid''s enormous figure came charging across thewn with his moleskin overcoat pping like giant wings. His beetle-ck eyes widened with disbelief at the scene before him.

    Moving with surprising speed for someone his size, Hagrid reached the wrestling boys and, with the casual ease of someone plucking daisies, grabbed each of them by an arm and hoisted them clear off the ground.

    Even when suspended in mid-air, Harry and Ron continued their assault, swinging wildly with their free limbs and hurling curses at each other. The sight might have beenical if not for the raw hatred evident in their faces beneath the coating of mud.

    "Merlin''s beard!" Hagrid''s eyes darted between the two mud-covered figures dangling from his massive hands, as if struggling to recognize the boys he''d known for years. "Seamus an'' Dean came runnin'' ter tell me yeh might be fightin''. Thought they were havin'' me on! I was busy teachin'' Fr¨¦odom how ter handle the st-Ended Skrewts an'' got dyed... But what''s this all about? Can someone exin why yeh two are tryin'' ter kill each other? Oh, and Hermione, yer teeth look real nasty!"

    "Let me go, Hagrid!" Harry''s demand came out as a strangled roar. Despite his best efforts to break free, his struggles were as effective as a flobberworm trying to wrestle a dragon. Hagrid''s grip remained steady as a stone pir.

    "I''m going to tten this idiot''s face!" Harry continued to rage, his sses misaligned and sttered with mud.

    "Try it then!" Ron shot back with savage defiance; his face nearly as red as his hair. "Let''s see whose face gets ttened first!"

    "Not bloody likely!" Hagrid''s voice boomed with unprecedented sternness. "Neither of yeh''s touching ground till yeh shake hands and make peace!"

    "Hey!"

    The boys'' continued stubbornness finally ignited Hagrid''s temper. He shook his massive arms, causing Harry and Ron to swing like ragdolls in the wind. The world spun dizzyingly around them, and both felt as though their bodies might fly apart at any moment.

    "Why don''t yeh take a good look at Hermione first? She''s worse off than both of yehbined!"

    Harry barely managed to suppress the urge to vomit as the world stopped spinning. When his vision cleared, he finally noticed Hermione''s condition properly. She was clutching her mouth with both hands, but crimson streams of blood still seeped between her trembling fingers. Her robes were stered to her body by the rain, and she was shivering from the cold. Ron had roughly the same reaction, finally realizing that in their conflict, Hermione had ended up being the most seriously injured.

    "Seems yeh''ve finallye to yer senses, eh?" Hagrid''s anger was evident in his gruff voice as he carefully lowered the now-subdued boys to the ground.

    "Right then, all three of yeh, to my cabin. We''ll sort this mess out proper-like. Come on now, I''ve got plenty of experience with magical creature injuries, so I know a thing or two about healing. I can help with some of those wounds, Hermione¡ª"

    Saying this, Hagrid gently wrapped one massive arm around Hermione''s shoulders, nearly engulfing her small body as he guided her toward his cabin. Harry, consumed with worry for Hermione, followed immediately in their trail. They had nearly reached Hagrid''s door before they realized Ron had vanished from the grounds, leaving only muddy footprints that were quickly being erased by the rain.

    "Bettere in then¡ª" Hagrid sighed heavily, noting Ron''s absence as he pushed open his thick wooden door.

    The interior of Hagrid''s cabin was transformed into a haven of warmth and light by the cheerfully burning oilmps. The usually messy floor had been swept to spotless condition, and the various animal parts that typically decorated the ceiling beams had been properly cleaned and stored beneath Hagrid''s enormous bed, eliminating the cabin''s usual musty odor.

    As Harry stepped anxiously through the doorway, the cozy warmth actually intensified his awareness of his physical state. His mud-caked robes clung to his skin like a cold, wet second skin, making him shiver violently.

    Arge pot of stew simmered invitingly on the iron stove, its rich aroma clearly indicating it wasn''t one of Hagrid''s usual culinary experiments <strong>*ahem*</strong> Hagrid''s cooking. The smell suddenly reminded Harry that his lunch had been interrupted by this whole disaster.

    "Mistress Granger!"

    A small ck figure burst from behind a stack of wooden crates in the corner, rushing to Hermione''s feet as Hagrid carefully settled her on the edge of his massive bed.

    It was Fr¨¦odom with his snow-white fur gleaming in themplight and his enormous eyes ¨C the exact shade as Hermione''s but now swimming with tears and nearly the size of tennis balls ¨C fixed on her with devastating concern.

    "Mistress Granger is hurt!" the house-elf wailed, her high-pitched voice trembling with distress. "Fr¨¦odom failed to protect Mistress Granger! Fr¨¦odom is an unworthy house-elf!"

    With a heart-wrenching sob, Fr¨¦odom made a desperate dash toward the hot stove. Based on Hagrid''s rmed reaction, the house-elf intended to punish herself by sticking her head into the mes.

    Hermione''s severely swollen lips prevented her from properly protesting, but fortunately, Hagrid''s quick reflexes saved the day. He snatched Fr¨¦odom up by herrge ears and tossed her safely aside with surprising gentleness.

    "Don''t go makin'' things worse now, will yeh?" Hagrid grumbled irritably, then hurried to retrieve a jar of ointment from the shelf above his bed.

    "Blimey, yeh really went at it, didn''t yeh!" Hagrid shot an using re at Harry, who stood guilt-ridden by the stove, before carefully applying the pungent-smelling ointment to Hermione''s injured lips.

    As Hagrid had said, he did have some skill in healing¨C after all, dealing with potentially dangerous magical creatures meant frequent injuries, and running to Madam Pomfrey for every scratch and bite wasn''t practical. Years of experience had taught him to handle most wounds himself.

    The effect of the ointment was immediate ¨C the burning pain in Hermione''s lips transformed into a soothing coolness, and the tension in her face visibly decreased.

    "Yer front teeth look a bit loose, Hermione¡ª" Hagrid produced an enormous handkerchief from one of his many pockets and offered it to her to wipe away the excess ointment, but Hermione made no move to take it.

    "Best let Poppy have a look at thatter¡ª"

    "Thank you, Hagrid, I will¡ª" Hermione''s gratitude was slightly muffled but sincere as she epted a cup of warm water from Fr¨¦odom to rinse the metallic taste of blood from her mouth. With a snap of her fingers, Fr¨¦odom then dried their wet clothes instantly, her house-elf magic making quick work of the task.

    The beef stew continued to bubble enticingly on the stove, its appetizing aroma causing both Hermione and Harry to swallow reflexively. Their mad dash between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade through the secret passage, followed by the soaking in the rain and, in Harry''s case, the physical exertion of the fight, had left them famished. Harry''s stomach betrayed him with two loud growls, as his body was demanding fuel after such an intense expenditure of energy.

    Fr¨¦odom immediately sprang into action, presenting them with gleaming bowls of stew and an enormous rock cake, her eagerness to serve was evident in her every movement.

    "Thank you, Fr¨¦odom¡ª" Hermione''s gesture of thanks was apanied by a dejected expression. "I don''t think I can manage to eat this right now."

    "The cake''s different now, Fr¨¦odom''s improved it¡ª" Hagrid attempted to lighten the mood. "Just not as... er... challenging to chew anymore... Well, never mind about the cake."

    Hagrid''s expression turned serious as he stared at Hermione and Harry with stern disappointment. "Now then, can either o'' yeh exin what happened out there? Harry, how''d yeh end up fightin'' with Ron? Thought yeh only saved that kind o'' energy for Malfoy!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong><em>

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 0544 Hagridâ€™s Wisdom

    0544 Hagrid¡¯s Wisdom

    The ancient wooden beams of Hagrid''s cozy hut creaked softly as Harry settled into the oversized chair. Hagrid had always been among one of their most trusted friends and Harry, feeling the weight of recent events pressing heavily upon his shoulders, found himself unable to keep his thoughts contained any longer.

    After Hagrid asked the question, Harry''s words came tumbling out like a rushing stream, his voice rising and falling with emotion as he recounted everything that had happened over the past week.

    He described in raw detail about how Ron''s behavior had shifted dramatically since Hermione''s unexpected selection as Triwizard champion - the cold shoulders, the bitter nces, the weird silences that had reced their usual friendship. His voice grew more intense as he reached the part about Sirius''s recent revtion which finally revealed the dark corners of Ron''s peculiar behavior for him.

    The firelight caught the glint of frustration in Harry''s eyes as he expressed his rising indignation towards Hermione, his words were sharp in disappointment that she had chosen to remain silent about Ron''s behavior when she had clearly noticed something was amiss.

    Hermione who would usually be quick to defend herself with logical arguments and well-reasoned exnations, now sat in an uncharacteristic silence, her bushy hair fell forward to shield her face as she hung her head in evident distress. Beside her, Fr¨¦odom, however, was looking at Harry strangely, as if contemting about throwing him out of the hut.

    "Now, don''t you go stirring up trouble, little one," Hagrid warned Fr¨¦odom in his gruff voice while his beetle-ck eyes were glinting with concern. He heaved a weary sigh and his massive frame shifted as he leaned forward in his chair.

    "Harry, I want you to really think about what you''re suggesting here. What exactly do you reckon Hermione should''ve done differently? This whole mess started the moment her name came out of that Goblet, didn''t it? She knew full well there was nothing she could do or say that would make Ron happy about it, and just look at what happened when you finally discovered what Ron''s been thinking all this time.

    Did you stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, Hermione was trying to protect you both? Do you honestly think she wanted to watch her two best friends tear each other apart? Of all people, she''s the one who''s been hurting the most through all of this¡ª"

    As he spoke, Hagrid''s enormous hand came to rest gently on Hermione''s trembling shoulder with gentle touch despite his incredible strength.

    Fresh tears were streaming down Hermione''s cheeks as she fumbled with a handkerchief, the scene was simr to that of the previous year when Ron had mistakenly thought Crookshanks had killed Scabbers, she woulde here to confide in him, often crying.

    The sight of Hermione''s obvious distress triggered an ufortable tightness in Harry''s chest. His mouth opened and closed several times, and the harsh words of me he had been ready to release died on his tongue. Instead, he redirected his anger, and spitted out with renewed venom, "This is all Ron''s fault - he''s being nothing but aplete idiot!"

    "That''s enough of that, Harry¡ª" Hagrid''s response was sharp despite his obvious reluctance to scold him, his massive beard was stiffening as he spoke. "Anyone who raises their fists against their friends is acting the fool, make no mistake. But don''t go thinking you''re innocent in all this - both you and Ron have made your share of mistakes here."

    Hagrid''s words triggered an immediate shback to Ron''s heated usations on the castle grounds earlier. Harry practically leaped from his seat, eager to exin his side, but Hagrid''s enormous hand waved away his protests before they could begin.

    "I know exactly what you''re about to say, Harry," Hagrid continued, his dark eyes reflecting weariness. "From where you''re standing, Ron''s jealousy of your fame and Hermione''s status as a champion seemspletely ridiculous. You''re friends, after all, and neither you nor Hermione asked for any of this attention. But have you stopped to consider that Ron''s been shouldering burdens he could have chosen to walk away from?"

    "What exactly do you mean by that?" Harry''s brow furrowed deeply, while Hermione remained motionless beside him, her silence telling she had already anticipated the direction of Hagrid''s thoughts.

    "Think about it, you two little ones," Hagrid continued, his voice rumbling as he settled morefortably in his enormous chair. "Since the very first day you both stepped through those castle gates, Ron''s been right there beside you. One of you is the ''Boy Who Lived¡ª''"

    Hagrid''s eyes flickered meaningfully toward Harry. " ¡ªwhile the other''s brilliance has earned the admiration of every professor in the school. And there''s Ron, standing in the shadows cast by both of you, watching as everyone''s eyes simply pass over him. Has he ever onceined about it? Has he ever made you feel guilty about it?"

    The fire crackled in the hearth, casting twirling shadows across the rough wooden walls as Hagrid''s words hung heavy in the air.

    "Harry, have you ever considered that Ron''s life might be simpler if he chose to spend his time with Seamus and Dean instead? You know the Weasleys'' situation better than most." Hagrid''s voice softened withpassion. "After spending his entire life being overlooked at home, why should Ron be expected to silently ept the same fate at school? And let me tell you something - that boy''s got real talent of his own. Remember that chess game in your first year? The one you told me about? Not many fully grown wizards could have managed that, let alone a first-year student!"

    Throughout Hagrid''s emotional speech, Harry''s mind hadtched onto one particrly troubling detail - the possibility of Ron abandoning their friendship in favor of Dean and Seamus. His stomach churned at the thought, and when he spoke, his voice came out heated and raw with emotion. "Well, it certainly looks like that''s exactly what he''s trying to do!" The words tasted bitter on his tongue, and his heart twisted painfully in his chest.

    Hagrid spread his massive hands in a gesture of frustration, nearly knocking over a copper kettle in the process.

    "Don''t you see what I''m getting at here? You share some responsibility for how Ron''s feeling. You''ve never properly acknowledged his struggles - worse, you''ve never even noticed them. But did Ron ever throw that in your face? No, he kept it all bottled up inside, bearing it quietly. And now, with Hermione being chosen as champion..." Hagrid shook his head sadly, his wild hair catching the firelight. "It was the final straw, wasn''t it? Both his best friends achieving fame, while he remains in the background, forgotten."

    "But that''s not our fault!" Harry exploded, jumping to his feet with such force that his chair scraped loudly against the floor. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he continued, "Oh, sure, if he''d like to be an orphan or have a dark wizard conspiring to kill him every year, maybe he could be famous too!"

    "How are you still not seeing the point?" Hagrid''s patience was wearing thin now, his voice growing as rough as his appearance. "Now you know Ron''s pressure is real - not just some dramatic act he''s putting on. So I''ll ask you again: why should he have to bear the weight of being your friend? He could have walked away the moment he realized what it would mean, but he didn''t. Isn''t it obvious that Ron values the friendship more than his ownfort?"

    Hagrid''s words cut through the air like a knife, each one striking home with ufortable precision.

    "Ron never breathed a word about his struggles because he wanted to preserve your friendship. Yes, he''s having some issuestely, but isn''t that normal? You can''t expect someone - especially an underage wizard - to always maintain such noble principles. He was bound to need to release that pressure eventually¡ª"

    The hut fell into a suffocating silence, broken only by the asional popping sounds from the st-Ended Skrewts in their boxes against the wall.

    Harry stood rigidly, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles had turned white. The anger still coursed through him, but it had nowhere to go now, deted by the weight of Hagrid''s words.

    For the first time, he was forced to confront an ufortable truth - he had never once considered that being friends with him and Hermione might have ced an additional burden on Ron''s shoulders.

    When Harry finally spoke, each word seemed to cost him great effort and his voice became tight with suppressed emotion. "So, what you''re saying is that this is actually Hermione''s and my fault then?"

    "Now, I never said that¡ª" Hagrid''s voice had returned to its usual gentle rumble as he visibly worked to calm his own agitated emotions. "Ron''s behavior isn''t right - pushing you both away because of Hermione''s selection as champion isn''t the answer. But what I''m trying to help you understand, Harry, is that this didn''te out of nowhere. Ron needs time to sort through his feelings. Once he does, I believe you''ll all find your way back to each other. That''s far better than what you''re doing now - demanding to know why he''s not living up to some impossible standard of nobility¡ª"

    The echo of Ron''s earlier words suddenly rang in Harry''s ears with rity: <em>''Don''t you dare act like you''re the only noble one here, Potter!''</em>

    Harry''s face grew stiff with the realization, and suddenly the air in the hut felt suffocating. His eyes sought out Hermione, guilt clouding his expression as another revtion struck him.

    Earlier, when she had desperately tried to catch up with him in the secret passage, was this what she had been trying to tell him? Had she been holding back, trying to give Ron the space and time he needed to work through his feelings?

    <em>''So, had he, in his ''righteous'' anger, actually been the one to make everything worse?''</em>

    "What do you think we should do now, Hagrid?" Hermione''s voice, though quiet, seemed to fill the entire hut. When she finally raised her head, her eyes were still glistening with tears, causing Fr¨¦odom to let out a sympathetic whimper behind her.

    "I can''t give you a perfect answer to that¡ª" Hagrid heaved another mighty sigh as he made his way to the old cast-iron stove, his massive figure blocking most of the light as he carefully adjusted the damper valve with his thick finger.

    "But if you''re asking my advice, I''d say don''t go rushing off to find Ron just yet. You all need time to think about what friendship truly means. Once everyone''s had a chance to calm down properly, maybe then you can have the kind of conversation Sirius suggested--"

    Harry shifted ufortably in his chair, anxiety and insecurity gnawing at his insides. A new fear had taken root in his mind - what if Ron actually decided their friendship wasn''t worth the trouble anymore?

    ording to Hagrid''s logic, walking away might actually make Ron''s life easier. Yet Harry''s anger hadn''tpletely subsided - couldn''t Ron have chosen a better time for this crisis? Surely, he must realize how crucial this period was for Hermione!

    "Oh yes, speaking of which, Hermione¡ª" Hagrid''s tone shifted to one of grandfatherly concern as he turned his attention to her, clearly deciding they''d discussed the friendship drama enough for one evening. "How are your tournament preparationsing along?"

    Hermione sniffed several times, trying topose herself before responding. "I''ve been researching previous Triwizard Tournaments from centuries ago," she exined, her voice still slightly wobbly but gaining strength as she focused on the academic aspects. "I''ve found some information about past tasks, though I''m not sure how helpful it will be. They probably won''t repeat the same challenges."

    "This little one''s been worried sick about you!" Hagrid gave Fr¨¦odom''s head a gentle poke. "It''s a shame they don''t allow helpers in the tournament - you could have taken it with you as your partner--"

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    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0545 Possibility

    0545 Possibility

    Hagrid''s casual remark sent an electric current of inspiration through Harry''s mind. He whirled toward Hermione so quickly that his chair creaked in protest.

    "Is it possible?" The words tumbled out of his mouth with barely contained excitement.

    "What?" Hermione''s brow furrowed in confusion, her tear-stained cheeks still glistening in the flickering firelight as she tried to interpret Harry''s sudden enthusiasm.

    Harry''s mind raced with memories of house-elf magic which was powerful but often underestimated by most in the wizarding world. The prejudice that dismissed these creatures as simple servants had never taken root in Harry''s mind, certainly not after his experiences with their extraordinary abilities.

    His thoughts flickered back to that day at the start of second year, when Dobby had used his magic to seal tform Nine and Three-Quarters, leaving him and Ron stranded and helpless. The image of Dobby effortlessly knocking Lucius Malfoy off his feet in Dumbledore''s office also floated to the surface of his mind. If Hermione could bring her loyal house-elf into the tournament, their odds of sess would increase exponentially!

    "I mean," Harry leaned forward eagerly, his sses catching the orange glow of the fire, "do the tournament rules specifically prohibit Fr¨¦odom or house-elves from participating in the tasks with you?"

    "Bring Fr¨¦odom to thepetition? That''s Impossible, Harry. Crouch clearly said that we can''t ept help from anyone. During the tasks, we can only rely on our own wands," Hermione''s eyes widened with shock, her voice rising slightly as she stared at the small house-elf beside her.

    Her initial instinct was to refuse outright, but Harry watched as something shifted in her expression - her eyebrows arched upward in that familiar way that told him she was beginning to analyze the possibilities. This subtle change in her demeanor caused Harry''s face to light up with renewed hope.

    "That means it''s not explicitly forbidden, right?" Harry pressed his advantage, speaking more quickly now in excitement. "Fr¨¦odom is a house-elf, not a wizard or witch, and she belongs to you, doesn''t she?"

    "Can Fr¨¦odom help, Mistress Granger?" The little house-elf drew herself up to her full height, which barely reached Hermione''s hip, trying to appear as capable as possible. Her high-pitched voice trembled with enthusiasm as she repeated, "Fr¨¦odom wants to help Mistress Granger in the tournament! Fr¨¦odom wants to help!"

    Fr¨¦odom tilted her head pleadingly with her enormous eyes each the size of a tennis ball gleaming intensely in the firelight.

    Hagrid shifted ufortably in his massive chair, clearly taken aback by how seriously Harry had interpreted his offhandment. His dark eyes, barely visible through his wild tangle of hair, flickered uncertainly between Fr¨¦odom and Hermione as he wrestled with the implications of what he''d inadvertently suggested.

    "No--" Hermione''s voice cut through the silence. Harry''s suggestion was undeniably tempting - having an assistant during the tournament would certainly ease the burden of whatever challengesy ahead.

    But as she gazed down at Fr¨¦odom, noting how the house-elf''s head barely reached her thigh and how delicate her stick-like limbs appeared, Hermione drew in a deep, steadying breath. Her voice, when it came again, carried the unmistakable weight of conviction. "I can''t do this, Harry. It''s simply too underhanded!"

    Seeing Harry''s mouth open to argue further, Hermione quickly pressed on, her voice growing stronger with each word. "You''ve seen the records of past Triwizard Tournament tasks, Harry. They''re absolutely horrific! Fr¨¦odom is still practically a baby, not even a year old. I cannot - I will not - knowingly put her in harm''s way." Her fingers twisted anxiously in her robes as she continued, "Besides, Fr¨¦odom isn''t my property - she''s free. She shouldn''t have to risk her life for me!"

    "Fr¨¦odom belongs to Mistress Granger! Mistress Granger gave Fr¨¦odom clothes!" The house-elf''s high-pitched voice cracked with emotion as she clutched the carefully modified vest - once part of Hermione''s school robes - that hung from her tiny body. "Fr¨¦odom wants to help Mistress Granger win the tournament!"

    "Please, don''t say anymore, Fr¨¦odom--" Hermione''s hand flew to her mouth, her front teeth throbbing slightly at the movement. Her eyes glistened with fresh tears as she spoke more gently, "If you truly want to support me, then just cheer for me during the tournament!"

    <em>''Could "cheering" be interpreted as being allowed to help?''</em>

    A calcting look flickered across Fr¨¦odom''s face as she blinked her enormous eyes, clearly analyzing the exact meaning of ''cheering'' and whether it might possibly be interpreted as permission to help. But she remained tactfully silent with her tennis ball-sized eyes fixed thoughtfully on the floor.

    Hagrid released a heavy sigh of relief - partly for Hermione''s integrity, but also for more selfish reasons. He had spent some time with Fr¨¦odom and had to admit that house-elves were indeed excellent helpers. Plus, He''d grown quite fond of Fr¨¦odom''spany during his nightly patrols and fireside conversations - something Fang could never quite provide.

    "Don''t worry yourself too much, Hermione--" Hagrid''s eyes darted shrewdly toward the window, his voice dropping to a whisper that somehow still managed to rumble like distant thunder. "Professor Watson''s kept everything under wraps. Apart from him and Dumbledore, no one knows what''sing in the first task. But you know me..."

    A knowing smile crept through his tangled beard. "If they''re bringing anything interesting onto the grounds, I''m usually the first to know about it."

    Harry and Hermione gaped at Hagrid''s sheepish smile and surprisingly unsubtle hint, momentarily struck speechless by his tant offer of assistance.

    The possibility of advance information about the tasks visibly lifted Harry''s spirits. If they could discover what challenges awaited, they could devise strategies to ovee them.

    However, he noticed Hermione''s obvious hesitation - her mind seemed to be struggling with the ethical implications. To her, the tournament represented more than just apetition; it was an academic challenge, as sacred as any examination and cheating in an exam was unthinkable to her.

    Despite their best efforts, neither Harry nor Hagrid couldpletely sway Hermione from her ethical stance. However, by the time they prepared to leave Hagrid''s cozy hut, her firm opposition had softened somewhat.

    Although Hagrid''s persuasion had helped temper Harry''s anger toward Ron, neither he nor Hermione felt ready to face him just yet. They chose to stay at Hagrid''s for dinner, staying until darkness hadpletely enveloped the grounds and when the Great Hall would likely be deserted of students.

    The hospital wing''s in white walls seemed to amplify Madam Pomfrey''s concerned voice as she examined Hermione''s teeth with professional scrutiny. "How in Merlin''s name did you manage to get your teeth in such a state?"

    "I was preupied with tournament preparations, Madam," Hermione''s voice wavered convincingly as she spoke around her probing fingers. "I wasn''t paying attention and stepped into one of those tricky stairs - you know, the vanishing ones?" She said making a pitiful expression. "My teeth can be fixed, can''t they? My father''s a dentist, and if he notices they''re crooked during Christmas break, he''ll definitely make me wear braces."

    Harry hovered nearby, shifting anxiously from foot to foot as he watched Madam Pomfrey work. Guilt gnawed at his insides like a living thing - regardless of who had thrown the first punch, Hermione had been caught in the crossfire of his conflict with Ron.

    Madam Pomfrey was experienced and could tell that Hermione''s teeth had been injured for a while and wasn''t as recent as she imed, but as a professional healer, she rarely questioned how students managed to get themselves into various predicaments.

    "Who do you think you''re underestimating, Miss Granger?" she clicked her tongue disapprovingly, though there was a hint of amusement in her tone. "I can have your teeth perfect in the time it takes to enjoy a cup of hot chocte." Her sharp eyes turned to Harry. "Potter, wait outside the curtain - you should know better by now--"

    <em>''Just fixing teeth, what''s there to hide?''</em> Harry thought irritably, his mind conjuring increasingly absurd scenarios of what could possibly require such privacy.

    Nevertheless, he dutifully retreated to wait by the door, listening to the indistinct murmur of voices from behind the curtain. Whatever they were discussing seemed to require enough time to drink not just a cup, but an entire bucket of hot chocte.

    When Hermione finally emerged from behind the curtain after what felt like an eternity, her lips were pressed together so tightly they nearly disappeared, clearly trying to hide whatever changes had been made to her teeth.

    "Let''s head back, Harry--" she mumbled, carefully voicing each word.

    Harry''s restraint in not asking about the procedure visibly relieved Hermione. In truth, she had seized the opportunity to have Madam Pomfrey make some additional improvements to her front teeth, motivatedrgely by those cruel badges Malfoy and Parkinson had created during Physical Education ss.

    Moreover, the knowledge that the tournament would be broadcasted live in many ces like a Muggle sporting event had only strengthened her resolve to manage this longstanding insecurity.

    As they began their journey back to the dormitory, Harry''s thoughts turned increasingly dark because returning meant inevitably confronting Ron after their fight. Although Hagrid had advised them to stay calm, it wasn''t an easy task at all!

    "Haven''t we forgotten something?" Hermione''s voice cut through Harry''s brooding as they absently climbed the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. The Fat Lady''s portrait waited expectantly for the password when Hermione''s face was suddenly drained of all color.

    "What?" Harry''s responded automatically, but even as the word left his mouth, an icy realization shot through him like a bolt of lightning, raising goosebumps along his arms.

    "Oh, Professor Watson!" Their horrified voices echoed off the stone walls in perfect, terrified unison.

    "What time is it, Harry?" They spun around so quickly they nearly lost their bnce, but fortunately their Physical Education training kicked in and they sprinted down the corridor. While running down the stairs, Hermione disyed previously unknown athletic prowess as she vaulted clear over a banister like a seasoned gymnast.

    "Nine o''clock!" Harry''s panic-stricken voice bounced off the castle walls as he checked the watch Professor Watson had given him. His words came out in desperate gasps between breaths, "It''s over, Hermione! Will Professor Watson think we''re deliberately defying his punishment? What''s he going to do to us? Will we get the same treatment he gave George in Physical Education?"

    "Don''t ask me!" Hermione''s voice was shrill with terror as she performed another impressive leap over a section of railing, as her words echoed through the empty corridors, "I don''t know anything!"

    Five agonizing minutester, they finally reached Professor Watson''s office, with their robes disheveled and their lungs burning. They knocked on the heavy wooden door with trembling hands and their hearts were threatening to burst from their chests.

    Inside, they found Bryan seated at his desk, staring thoughtfully at arge gift box before him.

    "If you two hadn''te--"

    As Harry and Hermione burst through the door, looking like they''d just escaped a dragon''s den, his lips curled into an unsettling smile.

    "I was just about to collect you from Gryffindor Tower myself."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0546 Apology

    0546 Apology

    The flickering candlelight casted twirling shadows across Professor Watson''s normally warm office. Harry and Hermione stood awkwardly before his massive oak desk and their hearts were pounding in their chests.

    The atmosphere was thick with tension, making even the gentle crackling of the firece seem somehow ominous. Harry could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead despite the evening chill that permeated the castle. Beside him, Hermione fidgeted nervously with the hem of her school robes.

    Harry and Hermione were probably the only students who interacted most privately with Professor Watson. They were both well aware that, in private, he was not the type of wizard who liked to unt his authority. Every time they came to his office, he would kindly ask them to sit down before formally discussing matters.

    However, this time, Professor Watson merely had them stand there, looking at them with an unfriendly stern gaze. This subtle change made Harry and Hermione feel a sense of unease.

    It seemed that the trouble they caused today really annoyed Professor Watson.

    And this was hardly surprising¨C sneaking out of school grounds was one thing, but causing harm to a visiting champion from Beauxbatons was an entirely different matter. The political implications alone were enough to cause serious concern, and both of them were well aware of it.

    The Triwizard Tournament was meant to foster international magical cooperation, not create diplomatic incidents again and again.

    Harry''s mind raced with possibilities, each more worrying than thest. <em>''Had Madame Maxime, Beauxbatons'' headmistress, already stormed the castle demanding exnation?''</em>

    Thinking about this, Harry mustered his courage and stole a nce at Professor Watson behind the desk, seeing a face that revealed no emotion in the flickering candlelight, which only made him even more nervous.

    "Sorry, Professor--"

    Hermione was the first to break the suffocating silence and her voice was trembling like a leaf in autumn wind. "We... we ran into some trouble--"

    Bryan''s stern expression softened almost imperceptibly. He knew that after returning to Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione had probably gone to find Ron, and he could foresee that they might have had some conflict.

    Bryan shook his head nomittally. "So, Hermione, are you prepared for the Triwizard Tournament tasks?"

    Hermione''s body trembled violently, and her heart raced in her chest. Hagrid had previously told her and Harry that Professor Watson was keeping thepetition tasks tightly under wraps, though Hagrid still nned to help her obtain some insider information.

    "I-I''m reviewing previouspetition records--" She managed to stammer out, her fingers unconsciously twisting the fabric of her robes. "I thought it might be helpful."

    "Hmm--" Bryan''s thoughtful hum resonated in the quiet office. His gaze was fixed on Hermione, who stood as rigid as the suit of armor in the corridor outside.

    Normally, providing Hermione with a bit of extra help would be understandable. After all, she was the youngest among the champions and hadn''t intended to be one. However, upon further reflection, Bryan dismissed the idea. Regarding the champions''petition process, neither he nor Dumbledore should interfere too much, and besides, she might already have some assistance.

    Bryan''s voice took on a formal tone as he delivered his verdict. "For sneaking out of the school, Gryffindor will lose twenty points."

    The magical hourss containing Gryffindor''s rubies would soon reflect this loss, though the punishment seemed remarkably lenient.

    "Of course, detention would have been inevitable, but considering the pressure you''re under from the Tournament tasks, I''ll refrain from imposing any additional punishment--"

    "What!" The simultaneous exmation from both students echoed off the office walls, startling several of the dozing portraits. Harry''s emerald eyes widened with disbelief, while Hermione''s mouth fell open in shock.

    "Is that all, Professor?" Harry''s voice cracked slightly with surprise.

    "Of course not. Have you forgotten about Miss Dcour, whom you injured?" Bryan''s reminder brought an immediate change to Harry''s expression, his face falling faster than a dropped Remembrall.

    Bryan''s subsequent chuckle, however, seemed to ease some of the tension in the room.

    The night had grownte; through the office windows, the darkness pressed against the ss like a living thing, broken only by the asional glimmer of stars.

    Bryan, aware of thete hour, decided to cut to the chase. "Harry, I know you didn''t intentionally injure Miss Dcour. Normally, I wouldn''t punish you for this, but you should understand that she is a Beauxbatons champion with a sensitive status. If we casually treat this as a minor incident, it would be inappropriate. Therefore, Hogwarts should express an apology to her--"

    Even without Professor Watson saying so, Harry and Hermione understood the matter. They could easily imagine the diplomatic headache this situation might cause. Putting themselves in her shoes, Fleur was indeed unfortunate. She had been at Hogwarts for only a week and had already been injured twice, though both were idents. It was understandable for Beauxbatons to have concerns about their champion''s safety.

    "What do you need us to do, Professor?" Harry''s asked, his voice steady despite his nervousness.

    Bryan''s hand moved to a beautifully wrapped package on his desk ¨C an elegant box tied with silver ribbon that seemed to shimmer in the candlelight.

    "I''ve prepared a gift for Miss Dcour¡ª a dress--" His fingers drummed lightly on the box as he gave Harry a meaningful look. "I hope you''ll personally deliver it to her, as a token of apology. Of course, it will be in your name, Harry--"

    Harry and Hermione''s attention were immediately drawn to the gift box. Harry thought that the box was given to Professor Watson by someone else. After all, with Professor Watson''s current fame, it was not strange to receive gifts from fans. However, He never expected that this was a gift Professor Watson had purchased to apologize on his behalf.

    Harry''s mouth opened slightly, feeling a mix of nervousness and touched emotion.

    "¡ªIf Miss Dcour asks why you bought this, you can tell her you sought my advice on how to apologize to her, and this was my suggestion. Now go, it''s already quitete. Use the invisibility cloak, and if other professors or prefects catch you, I won''t cover for you¡ª"

    The journey from Professor Watson''s office to the entrance hall passed in a blur of confusion and gratitude. It wasn''t until the bitter night air struck their faces that Harry found his voice again. "Do you think I should pay Professor Watson back for the gift, Hermione?"

    Hermione''s brow furrowed in thought, her breath visible in the cold air.

    Harry had indeed raised a good question, and she couldn''t immediately provide a definitive answer.

    Logically, he shouldn''t let Professor Watson pay for his mistake. But Hermione believed that Professor Watson probably felt he bore some responsibility in their incident, which was why he had taken the initiative to buy the gift.

    The grounds of Hogwarts stretched before them like a vast ck sea. Only faint rectangles of light from the castle windows provided any illumination, creating isted pools of dim yellow light on the wet grass. The wind howled like a banshee, whipping their robes around their legs as they stumbled toward the Beauxbatons carriage.

    The invisibility cloak offered protection from prying eyes but did nothing to shield them from the treacherous terrain. The day''s rain had left the ground treacherous ¨C a slick mixture of mud and wet grass that seemed determined to topple them. They slipped and fell several times and their robes became increasingly caked with mud but the gift box was held protectively above the dirt.

    The Beauxbatons carriage loomed ahead of them with its powder-blue surface gleaming faintly in the darkness.

    Since Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had arrived at Hogwarts, no one had entered their quarters. The Beauxbatons carriage seemed to be protected by some kind of warning magic. As they approached the door, marked with its distinctive crossed golden wands, they could feel the subtle buzz of protective magic in the air. The door swung open as if sensing their presence, revealing a boy in pale blue robes who peered out cautiously.

    "Hogwarts students, ah! I remember you - you''re Hogwarts'' second champion!"

    The boy spotted Hermione and Harry standing at the bottom of the golden stairs and easily recognized Hermione, which made him even more alert.

    "What do you want?" He asked sharply and defensively.

    Harry drew in a deep breath of the cold night air, and his words came out stiff and formal. "We''d like to see Miss Dcour, um, about what happened earlier today--"

    "Earlier today?" The Beauxbatons boy was puzzled. "Did something happen?"

    His question, in turn, made Harry and Hermione confused. Could it be that Fleur hadn''t mentioned being injured again? But many people had witnessed the scene that day... though thinking about it, most of the people in the Three Broomsticks that time had been from Durmstrang.

    Hermione''s quick mind sprang into action, and she nudged Harry''s ribs cunningly. "We''vee to bring something to Miss Dcour... something she bought in Hogsmeade today but forgot to take with her, we happened to find it--"

    "Oh, didn''t the house-elf deliver everything already--" The boy muttered, looking somewhat annoyed. However, he didn''t question Hermione''s exnation, and after telling them to wait, he shut the door with a snap.

    The light inside the carriage clearly illuminated the white breathing from their noses and mouths. The weather was truly cold. Harry could even hear the ice fragments on the ck Lake''s surface pushing and colliding against each other.

    Before the two of them werepletely frozen into popsicles, Fleur finally appeared. She pushed open the carriage door, wrapped in a thick cloak, but the cold wind that rushed in still made her shiver.

    The cold climate clearly didn''t improve her mood. She wrapped the cloak tightly around herself, carefully descending the stairs, then suspiciously eyed the box in Harry''s hands.

    "Matthieu said you brought something I left in Hogsmeade?" Her voice, slightly nasal from her recent injury, carried both skepticism and interest.

    "Ahem--" Harry''s face was flushed with difort. "Actually... we bought you a gift, um, to apologize for what happened today."

    "A gift?" Fleur''s surprise was evident in her slightly hoarse voice. Her eyes traveled over their mud-covered forms, and her expression softened noticeably. "Oh, that''s not necessary, it was just an ident--"

    But then she quickly asked with interest, "What did you bring me?"

    "A dress!" Harry blurted out, thrusting the box forward eagerly. Professor Watson had already gone to great lengths, and if they failed to deliver a gift, that would be terrible.

    Perhaps touched by Harry''s sincere attitude, Fleur, who had not intended to ept it, extended her hand from the cloak''s opening, showing a light blue fitted shirt. She gently pulled the box''s ribbon and lifted one side of the lid.

    "Oh, this is¡ª" Her exmation was cut off abruptly as suspicion returned to her facial features. With just one nce, Fleur confirmed it was the dress she had liked in the drags Wizardwear store during the day. So, she instantly realized something was amiss.

    "How did you know I liked this dress?"

    Harry hastily repeated what Professor Watson had instructed, but unexpectedly, Fleur didn''t let the matter drop. She looked at him, her suspicious look not entirely dissipating.

    "Is that so¡ª" Fleur muttered, "This dress isn''t cheap, it''s too expensive for an apology gift... how much did you spend?"

    <strong>Uh¡ª</strong>

    Harry was tongue-tied. Professor Watson hadn''t covered this scenario, so not knowing how to answer, he looked at Hermione.

    "We''re quite familiar with the store owner. She gave us a discount. it only cost us a few dozen Galleons--" At the critical moment, Hermione spoke without batting an eye, having anticipated the dress wasn''t that cheap.

    In Harry''s view, Hermione''s answer was near perfect. But for some reason, when Fleur heard this response, she suddenly burst intoughter. The suspicion on her beautiful face disappeared, and she even seemed delighted. She reached for the gift and her cloak slipped to the ground in the process.

    One nce was enough to make Harry''s face turn red. He quickly averted his eyes, but Fleur herself moved closer, giving him a light kiss on the cheek. Harry immediately felt the spot where Fleur had kissed him burning! Then, Fleur tried to kiss Hermione too.

    "Oh, don''t!"

    Hermione jumped back in shock, staring at Fleur in horror.

    "Okay¡ª" Fleur''s graceful shrug was apanied by a knowing smile as she retrieved her cloak. "Thank you. I ept your apology¡ª"

    She ascended the golden stairs with evident pleasure, holding the gift box close, but before entering the carriage, she suddenly turned back to the still-stunned Harry with a mischievous smile and said,

    "And please thank Mr. Watson for me¡ª"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0547 Secrets

    0547 Secrets

    Fleur delicately closed the carriage door with a soft click, leaving Harry frozen in ce and his fingers lingered on the spot where her soft lips had brushed his cheek. His eyes remained fixed on the golden design on the door with two wands crossed in a perfect X catching thest rays of the setting sun. The warmth of the kiss seemed to linger on his skin, making time stand still in that moment.

    "Hmph!" The sharp sound woke him from his reverie.

    "What''s wrong?" Harry asked in confusion, though the moment the words left his mouth, he knew exactly what had triggered the reaction.

    Hermione''s angry snort had shattered the silence, and as Harry turned to face her, he was met with an expression of barely contained fury. Her brown eyes were zing, her bushy hair seeming to crackle with indignation while her hands were clenched at her sides.

    "Savoring the moment, are you?" Hermione''s voice dripped with sarcasm. Her eyes darted between Harry and the carriage, her face flushed with what appeared to be more than just the evening chill. "If you''re missing it already, you could always knock on the door and ask if she''d like to kiss your other cheek too!"

    "Oh¡ª" Harry felt heat rush to his face, a deep crimson blush spreading across his cheeks. He felt thoroughly wronged by the usation - after all, Fleur''s kiss camepletely unexpected. Who could possibly have prepared themselves for such a sudden gesture?

    The heat of embarrassment spread down his neck as he struggled to find the right words to defend himself.

    "Shouldn''t we go see Professor Watson again?" Harry said carefully, desperately trying to change the subject as his mind whirled with confusion at Hermione''s reaction.

    Girls'' thoughts were truly a mystery, he reflected ruefully. But he wisely chose not to pursue that topic. Now that his rtionship with Ron had hit a rough patch, he treasured his friendship with Hermione even more. So, he clumsily changed the subject.

    "Why?" Hermione''s eyebrows shot up questioningly, her voice still carrying a sharp edge.

    "To tell Professor Watson wepleted the task," Harry exined, trying to keep his voice steady and matter-of-fact. "Besides, Fleur asked us to convey her thanks to Professor Watson¡ª"

    The words had barely left his mouth when he realized his grave error. Mentally kicking himself for mentioning Fleur again, he watched helplessly as Hermione''s expression darkened further. He still couldn''t fathom what exactly Fleur had done to provoke such a weird strong reaction from her.

    "Hopeless," Hermione muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible. She turned on her heel and stormed off toward the castle, her footsteps heavy with anger against the damp grass.

    The journey back became an exercise in awkward coordination. The Invisibility Cloak, usually a relief, now felt like a burden as Harry struggled to keep it covering both of them while maintaining a distance from Hermione as she angrily refused to walk beside him.

    Hermione''s determined stride forced Harry to shuffle along behind her, stretching out ufortably to hold the Invisibility cloak for both of them and stumble forward as they sprinted.

    As they approached the warm glow emanating from the castle windows, disaster struck. Harry identally stepped in a deep puddle and suddenly lost his bnce. Time seemed to slow as he pitched forward, arms windmilling helplessly. With a muffled yelp, he crashed into Hermione, sending them both tumbling onto the wet grass.

    "Who''s there!" A sharp, imposing voice sliced through the night air.

    The voice came from behind an extending corner of the castle, near the grand marble staircase.

    Pure instinct took over as Harry and Hermione immediately curled into tight balls, pressing themselves against the cold ground. They pulled the Invisibility Cloak tighter around themselves, each pping a hand over their mouth to stifle their heavy breathing and painful cry due to the fall.

    Professor Watson''s warning echoed in their minds¡ª they were on their own: if they were caught by other staff members or prefects, he wouldn''t cover for them!

    "Who''s eavesdropping there!" The voice demanded again.

    A dazzling milky-white light suddenly burst forth from behind the corner, illuminating the darkness and casting long, menacing shadows across the grounds.

    The light revealed a face that made Harry''s blood run cold - a face he knew all too well, with its sallow skin, hooked nose, and curtains of greasy ck hair. Even before the figure fully emerged, Harry and Hermione had recognized the owner of that cold, sharp voice - Severus Snape, the very embodiment of their worst fears at this moment.

    Harry and Hermione exchanged terrified nces in the harsh wandlight, their hearts pounded so loudly they were almost certain Snape would hear them.

    The wet grass beneath them seeped through their robes, the mud and moisture creating an ufortably cold sensation against their skin, but they didn''t dare move a muscle. Instead, they tried to make themselves even smaller, pressing closer to the ground despite the difort.

    "Don''t try to fool me, I''ve seen you!" Snape''s voice carried its typical sneer as he advanced slowly with his wand sweeping back and forth like a searchlight. His ck robes curled ominously in the night breeze, making him appear even more bat-like than usual.

    Harry saw through Snape''s bluff immediately. While the Invisibility Cloak wasn''t perfect¡ª Harry had encountered a few people, who could see through it its disguise but he knew Snape wasn''t among them. Still, Snape''s closeness made their every breath feel dangerous.

    "Stop searching, Severus--"

    A new voice came from the darkness, causing Harry and Hermione to nearly jump out of their skin. The voice belonged to Igor Karkaroff, the Durmstrang headmaster, who emerged from the shadows like a ghost. His silver fur robes caught the light from the entrance hall, creating an almost ethereal glow around his tall figure. His face, however, showed clear signs of impatience and agitation.

    "Perhaps it was just a fox from the forest that happened to break its leg--" Karkaroff suggested dismissively as he approached Snape from behind, his boots making soft crunching sounds on the frozen grass.

    Harry observed as Snape''s thin lip twitched visibly in annoyance. It seemed he wasn''t ready to give up so easily, his dark eyes narrowed as he continued to pace around thewn methodically, searching for any sign of the intruder who made the noise.

    By some miracle - or perhaps the first stroke of luck Harry had experienced in weeks - Snape never came close enough to where theyy to discover their fresh footprints in the dew-covered grass.

    "Stop wasting time, Severus. Why did you call me here?" Karkaroff''s impatience was bing more obvious with each passing moment.

    Hermione''s mind was already working through the implications of Karkaroff''s words.

    The meeting wasn''t chance encounter¡ª Snape had arranged it for the two of them to meet here. But how did these two know each other well enough for Karkaroff to address Snape so familiarly?

    As the questions arose in her mind, Hermione''s expression changed. She suddenly realized a possibility - Sirius had told her today that Durmstrang''s headmaster was a Death Eater, and there had always been dubious rumors about Snape himself.

    Finally epting that his search was futile, Snape extinguished his wand with a quick motion and drew himself up to his full height, turning to face Karkaroff. His voice, when he spoke, was soft but carried an unmistakable edge of threat.

    "I have something to ask you, Igor. For the sake of our past association, I hope you''ll tell me the truth. You know lies don''t stand up well before me."

    "What do you want to know?" Karkaroff''s response came with a hint of wariness.

    Harry strained his ears against the whistling wind that swept across the grounds, his heart thundered so loudly in his chest he feared it might give them away. But when Snape''s question finally came, it was like a bolt of lightning striking them both where theyy and his heart nearly stopped from shock.

    "Hermione Granger, that foolish girl who was chosen as Hogwarts'' second champion - Igor, did you have a hand in this?"

    Harry felt Hermione stiffen beside him, and he desperately wanted to see her reaction, but didn''t dare move. Instead, he carefully raised his head just enough to study Karkaroff''s face in the dim light filtering from the castle windows.

    Karkaroff''s facial features had contorted into an expression of absolute disbelief, his thick eyebrows were shooting upward while his goatee seemed to bristle with indignation.

    "Is this a joke, Severus?" Karkaroff''s voice rose slightly, a note of hysteria creeping in. He threw his arms wide in an exaggerated gesture of innocence. "You''re suspecting me? That''s ridiculous. You think I put that little girl''s name in the Goblet of Fire? Why would I do such a thing - to create morepetition for myself?"

    Snape remained unmoved, his ck eyes were glittering like cold obsidian in the darkness. "Don''t you find it interesting what Watson and Moody suggested when we discussed this matter that night?"

    It was clear from Karkaroff''s reaction that Watson and Moody''s deductions had struck a nerve. His pacing became more agitated, boots crushing the frost-covered grass beneath them. Though he didn''t seem surprised by the question, his defense came with renewed vigor, "This is absurd, Severus. Absolutely absurd!"

    Karkaroff''s movements became increasingly erratic as he stalked back and forth in front of Snape. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, whirling to face the Snape with fury etched across his facial features.

    "You actually think I would¡ª" Perhaps realizing his reputation might not be the best, Karkaroff interrupted his original exnation and quickly changed it. "I was with my students the entire evening, Severus, they can vouch for me!"

    "You surely slipped away for a while, didn''t you?" Snape''s voice was cold, cutting through Karkaroff''s protests like a frozen de. "And took a little stroll around the castle?"

    Harry had never witnessed Snape quite like this before. Though he could only see his back, the sheer intensity radiating from him was tangible.

    His usual ssroom intimidation tactics paled inparison to this methodical interrogation. Each question seemed designed to chip away at Karkaroff''s defenses, like a master duelist probing for weaknesses. Yet even as Harry watched this fascinating conversation, questions multiplied in his mind like rabbits.

    From these questions, it seemed Snape wasn''t the one targeting Hermione, but why was he so invested in investigating this matter? Was it on Professor Watson''s or Dumbledore''s orders? Did they task him with this inquiry because they knew both Snape and the Durmstrang headmaster had once served Voldemort and had an unusual connection?

    Karkaroff''s face contorted into an almost manic grin, hisughter was tinged with barely suppressed rage.

    "Has thefortable life at Hogwarts dulled your once-sharp mind, Severus?" Karkaroff''s words dripped with contempt. His silver robes shimmered as he gestured wildly, "What was I supposed to do - just walk brazenly into the entrance hall and submit the name of a little girl I''d never even met? Do you take me for such a fool?"

    "You wouldn''t have used your own face, of course, Igor--" Snape''s voice was deadly quiet as he advanced towards Karkaroff with his ck robes merging with the shadows. The movement was so smooth that even Harry, safely hidden under the cloak, felt a chill run down his spine.

    Snape''s eyes seemed to bore into Karkaroff''s very soul, glinting with an intensity that made Karkaroff involuntarily step backward. The sharp light in Snape''s gaze was so prating that Karkaroff couldn''t maintain eye contact, and his own eyes darted away like frightened birds.

    "There''s an interesting coincidence." Snape''s words echoed in the cold night air. "The very night you and the Beauxbatons delegation arrived at Hogwarts, certain items went missing from my stores - Bicorn powder, Boomng skin." He paused deliberately, "You know what these are used for, don''t you, Igor?"

    Harry felt Hermione''s sharp intake of breath beside him - clearly, these ingredients held some significance that he didn''t understand. But Snape wasn''t finished.

    "True, the brewing time would have been tight, but with advance nning, there are ways to speed up the process..."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0548 Conversation (Bonus Chapter)

    0548 Conversation (Bonus Chapter)

    In the shadows of the castle, Karkaroff''s face transformed into a mask of pure shock. His mouth gaped open and he was speechless for a moment.

    Bicorn horn powder, Boomng skin... Harry blinked, easily recognizing these as potion ingredients. Moreover, the names seemed familiar, as if he''d heard them somewhere before. So, he lowered his head slightly and looked at Hermione in confusion.

    "Polyjuice Potion¡ª"

    Hermione''s face, illuminated dimly by the castle''s distant lights, mirrored Harry''s shock. Her eyes widened with recognition, and seeing Harry''s confused expression, she mouthed the words without sound.

    They exchanged wordless nces, both noting the surprise in each other''s eyes. This was a possibility they hadn''t considered before ¨C Polyjuice Potion. It was certainly a clever way to conceal one''s identity, and not particrly difficult to execute. All they would need was to secretly collect a hair from a Hogwarts upper-year student during mealtime in the Great Hall, and then they could legitimately approach the Goblet of Fire to submit Hermione''s name!

    The question that now burned in their minds were two: <em>''Was Karkaroff truly the mastermind behind this scheme? And if so, what possible motivation could he have for targeting Hermione so specifically?''</em>

    Both of them instinctively held their breath, their bodies pressing closer to the ground as they strained to hear every word of the confrontation unfolding before them.

    "I understand now." Karkaroff''s voice had transformed from shocked silence to barely contained fury. He snapped his mouth shut with an audible click, his eyes zing with anger as he looked at Snape with an usatory re.

    His next words came out in a rush, each one dripping with paranoid suspicion.

    "You''re here to test me, aren''t you, Severus?" The words emerged as a harsh whisper, tinged with desperation. "Who put you up to this ¨C Dumbledore or Watson? You''ve already shared your suspicions with them, haven''t you? They''re investigating this matter¡ª"

    He caught himself here, his thoughts visibly redirecting. "No, no, that''s not important. Severus, have youpletely pledged yourself to their service now?"

    The darkness seemed to deepen around Snape''s tall, imposing figure as he remained unmoved by Karkaroff''s outburst.

    "Answer my question first!"

    His obsidian eyes bore into Karkaroff''s with unwavering intensity, his wand gripped so tightly that his knuckles showed white against the dim light.

    "This has nothing to do with me, Severus!" Karkaroff''s voice trembled with stress. "Durmstrang is also a victim in this matter!" His face contorted with desperation as he added, his each word carefully uttered through clenched teeth, "Do you need me to swear by the Dark Lord''s name?"

    The mere mention of that title sent an invisible ripple through the night air.

    Snape''s eyebrow twitched violently, though his rigid posture noticeably rxed. The weight of such an oath wasn''t lost on him - he knew all too well the gravity that such words carried for someone like Igor Karkaroff.

    "How amusing¡ª" In an instant, Snape''s hostile, cold smile melted away into an expression ofzy contempt as he smoothly tucked his wand back into the folds of his ck robes and sneered at Karkaroff. "You dare mention the Dark Lord? Let me be frank, Igor - given your past actions, if the Dark Lord returns, death would be the least of your concerns."

    Clearly finished with the conversation, Snape turned on his back, his ck robes billowing behind him as he made to return to the warmth of the castle.

    However, Karkaroff, his face now ashen at Snape''s casual reminder of his probable fate, lunged forward with unexpected speed. His fingers clutched desperately at Snape''s robes as he snarled, his voice dense with both fear and anger.

    "Go back and tell those despicable men, Watson and Dumbledore, make it perfectly clear to them ¨C they aren''t the only ones who can harbor suspicions. I''ll be conducting my own investigation into their activities!"

    "I''ll pass that along¡ª" Snape extracted his arm from Karkaroff''s grip with fluid grace, his lips curling into a mockery of a smile. "Anything else you''d like to add, Igor? If not, I strongly suggest you return to your ship before long. These grounds are positively crawling with Dumbledore''s loyal observers."

    Just when Harry and Hermione thought this secret conversation had reached its conclusion, they witnessed an extraordinary transformation in the Durmstrang headmaster.

    Like a skilled actor changing masks, Karkaroff''s entire demeanor shifted. The righteous indignation and wronged expression vanished, reced by an almost sickening disy of forced camaraderie, as if the heated usations of moments ago had been nothing but a passing dream.

    "Don''t be so hasty to leave, my dear old friend!" Karkaroff''s voice now dripped with honey, his smile broad and ingratiating as he draped an arm around Snape''s shoulders in a gesture of false friendship.

    Snape''s face twisted with barely concealed disgust, though he didn''t immediately shrug off the unwanted contact.

    "There''s a small matter where you might be of assistance..." Karkaroff''s voice dropped to a whisper. "I''ve heard, Severus, that Bryan Watson was once a proud member of your house, and word has it you''ve maintained quite an amicable rtionship?"

    Snape''s response was nothing more than a sidelong nce, his silence speaking volumes.

    "You see," Karkaroff pressed on, his voice bing even more ingratiating, "perhaps you could, as a favor to an old friend, while clearing my name with Watson regarding that foolish girl''s name in the Goblet, make some discrete inquiries about the nature of the first task? It would only be right, wouldn''t it? After all, you suspected me, doubted an old friend of many years¡ªit wounded me deeply, it broke my heart. Surely you owe me some smallpensation, you need to make some amends¡ª"

    <em>Despicable!</em>

    <em>Shameless!</em>

    The sheer audacity of his request made Harry and Hermione''s blood boil. They almost jumped up in anger. This was the same man who, few minutes ago, had been hurling threats about investigating Professor Watson, and now he had the gall to seek inside information through such calcting means!

    Hermione''s cheeks flushed red with anger. Earlier during the day, when Sirius told them that Igor Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, they were more surprised than anything else, but now, witnessing this scene firsthand, she truly understood just how low this man''s character was.

    Harry and Hermione were thinking along simr lines, but Harry gave Hermione a meaningful look. The irony wasn''t lost on either of them - if Durmstrang''s own headmaster was willing to stoop to cheating to aid his champion, perhaps epting Hagrid''s offered assistance wasn''t such a big moralpromise after all.

    They strained forward, eager to hear Snape''s response to this brazen request, but fate had other ns.

    A thunderous roar from the marble staircase in the entrance hall shattered the tension like ss, causing both of them to jump in their skins.

    "CAUGHT IN THE ACT, EH?"

    The familiar voice bellowed across the grounds, followed by the distinctive thump-clunk of wooden leg against stone as its owner descended the stairs.

    The scene that unfolded before them was almost theatrical in its timing - even Hermione, despite her usual seriousness, couldn''t help but appreciate the dramatic irony, while Harry''s lips curled into a satisfied smirk of schadenfreude.

    Despite Moody''s distinctive limp, there was nothing diminished about his intimidating presence. If anything, the irregr rhythm of his steps added to the rising tension, like the drumbeat before an execution.

    His magical eye whirling frantically in its socket fixed itself upon Snape and Karkaroff with unsettling intensity. The scar that marked his face seemed toe alive in the shadows, writhing like a restless centipede across his facial features.

    <em>''You should have been more cautious¡ª''</em> Harry thought with a mixture of satisfaction and slight malice as he observed the two men''s reactions.

    Moody''s appearance was hardly surprising to those who knew his habits. Even in retirement, the legendary Auror maintained his famous constant vignce, routinely patrolling the castle grounds after nightfall. He was also known to often assist Hagrid in monitoring the Forbidden Forest.

    The effect of Moody''s arrival on Karkaroff was visible. His bodynguage transformed in an instant, his previous fa?ade of friendly confidence crumbling like a sandcastle before the tide.

    Karkaroff''s initial impulse to flee wasn''t just a momentary reaction - it was deep-seated, perhaps a remnant of old guilt. He had already taken a backward step, his body half-turned toward escape, and if not for Snape''s quick reaction in grabbing his arm, he might have already vanished into the darkness.

    Snape, while maintaining betterposure than hispanion, couldn''t entirely hide his difort. The usual sallowplexion of his face took on an even more ashen hue as he faced Moody, though his voice remained steady as he attempted to defuse the situation.

    "What do you mean, Moody? We were merely having a conversation¡ª"

    Something peculiar urred then - Moody''s step faltered unexpectedly, giving a brief break in his intimidating approach. But he recovered with remarkable speed, his scarred face splitting into a fierce grin that held no warmth as he advanced on the pair.

    "Just talking, you say? LIES, Snape!" Moody mercilessly exposed this obvious excuse. "Two former Death Eaters who narrowly escaped Azkaban''s embrace, skulking about in the darkness and bitter cold, avoiding the popted courtyards¡ªall for a friendly chat about old times? What''s really on the agenda tonight, gentlemen? Sharing tips about dodging justice... or perhaps hatching new schemes!"

    Despite being outnumbered, Moody''s presence seemed to fill the space around them, as if he had somehow managed to surround both men through sheer force of personality. The intimidation radiating from him was almost palpable.

    "TELL ME!" The roar that erupted from Moody''s throat echoed across the grounds. "Confess everything now, or I''ll have you both in Dumbledore''s office before you can draw your next breath!"

    "You''re mad¡ª" Karkaroff''s voice came out in desperate pants as he stumbled backward, hisposurepletely shattered. "What we discuss is our business, Moody, it has nothing to do with you. The Ministry has cleared my name¡ªyou have no right to question me¡ª"

    "Oh, is that so!" Moody''sughter was cold enough to freeze the marrow in one''s bones. "Perhaps you think betraying your former ''associates'' has washed your hands clean, but I remember the filth you''ve wallowed in, Karkaroff.

    Shall we review some of your greatest hits? Show me if you''ve learned any new tricks. For instance, your method of slipping Hermione Granger''s name into the Goblet of Fire was quite ingenious. I must admit¡ªyour magical abilities have improved considerably since ourst encounter fifteen years ago if you managed to fool an artifact as ancient and powerful as the Goblet!"

    "You''repletely deranged!"

    These were thest words Karkaroff managed to force out. His eyes, wide with undisguised terror, remained fixed on Moody as he stumbled backward, his feet tangling in his expensive furs before he finally turned and fled headlong into the epassing darkness of the grounds!

    What happened next left Harry and Hermione more puzzled than anything that hade before. Professor Moody, contrary to his reputation for relentless pursuit, made no move to chase after the fleeing Karkaroff. He simply stood there, allowing Karkaroff to escape into the night.

    "COWARD!"

    The word was spat out with pure contempt, echoing across the grounds before Moody turned his attention to Snape, whose face had taken on an interesting bluish tinge in the dim light.

    "You seem to possess more spine than your friend, Snape. Perhaps you''d care to share something of interest!"

    "I have nothing to say to you¡ª" Snape''s words came out in rapid bursts, his breathing clearly affected by Moody''s oppressive presence. His thin lips pressed together so tightly they almost disappeared. "If you have questions about me, take them to Dumbledore!"

    With those words, Snape wrapped his ck cloak tightly around himself, the movement simr that of a bat folding its wings before flight. He strode past Moody with as much dignity as he could muster, his footsteps echoing in the entrance hall before fading into silence.

    The grounds fell into an eerie quiet, broken only by the whistle of the bitter wind.

    Harry''s eyes remained fixed on Professor Moody, who stood approximately fifteen meters away, watching Snape''s retreat with his magical eye. While Harry couldn''t help but admire how effectively Moody had scattered both Karkaroff and Snape, something about the situation nagged at his mind.

    <em>''Why had he let them off so easily? Shouldn''t he have pressed harder for answers?''</em>

    As Harry pondered this inconsistency, he noticed that Hermione too seemed troubled by the unusual turn of events. Given Moody''s earlier disy of intimidation, his sudden passivity felt out of character. But before either of them could fully process these thoughts, Professor Moody''s next words froze them both in ce, their hearts seeming to stop mid-beat.

    "My word, it''s getting rather frigid out here, and that muddy ground can''t be particrlyfortable. Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, why don''t you both stand up so we can have a proper conversation?"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0549 Disbelief

    0549 Disbelief

    Harry''s mind reeled in utter disbelief as the reality of the situation sank in. The shock of being discovered by Professor Moody left him paralyzed, his body refusing to move from where hey sprawled on the cold, damp ground.

    Beside him, Hermione was no less terrified than him, perhaps even more so, because she realized that Professor Moody might not be as lenient as Professor Watson in letting them off the hook, especially since Moody seemed to be in a foul mood at the moment.

    As Moody limped closer, his wooden leg thumping rhythmically against the earth, Harry''s heart sank with the grim realization that there would be no escaping punishment this time. Moody came to a halt mere inches from where theyy, his imposing figure casting long shadows across their mud-streaked faces.

    "Professor Moody--" Harry and Hermione stammered in unison as they scrambled to their feet, their voices trembling with barely contained panic.

    Stripped of the protective embrace of the Invisibility Cloak, their mud-caked robes pped in the biting wind, sending icy shivers down their spines.

    If they continued to freeze like this, they would likely have to spend the night in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey. But then, to their immense relief, Professor Moody withdrew his wand from within his robes and aimed it at their shivering forms. A surge of blessed warmth washed over them, drying their soaked garments and chasing away the biting chill.

    "Thank you--" Hermione managed to say, the tension draining from her shoulders as the weing heat worked its magic. Moody''s unexpected act ofpassion helped to soothe her frayed nerves.

    "Not bad, Potter. That''s quite an impressive Invisibility Cloak you''ve got there," Moody said with a rasping chuckle. "I reckon you''ve put it to good use, pulling off your fair share of mischief." His magical blue eye whirled with keen interest as it fixed on the silvery fabric of the cloak.

    For a fleeting moment, Harry considered offering to lend the Invisibility Cloak to Professor Moody, thinking it might curry favor and potentially aid in unraveling the mystery surrounding Hermione''s selection as a Triwizard champion. Of course, such generosity depended upon the crucial precondition that Moody wouldn''t give him and Hermione detention tonight.

    "Um, it was left to me by my father--" But Harry blurted out unconsciously with a slight tremor, showing his nervousness.

    He wouldter adamantly deny to Hermione that his hesitation had nothing to do with concerns about Moody confiscating the cloak, though the thought had certainly crossed his mind more than once during those tense moments.

    "Very interesting, very interesting indeed--" Moody muttered, his gaze never drifting from the Invisibility Cloak. "This is far from your ordinary Invisibility Cloak. I can sense the extraordinary magical aura it conceals. You see, I''ve always possessed a particr sensitivity to such things. It was through this gift,bined with my magical eye, that I managed to spot you two mischief-makers--"

    Harry couldn''t help but stare in undisguised wonder at Moody''s vivid blue magical eye, amazed by its weird abilities. Throughout his time at Hogwarts, he had encountered only two individuals capable of prating the cloak''s supposedly imprable protection - Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Watson. Now, standing before him in the cold night air, he had discovered a third.

    Appearing to realize that his exnation might be difficult for the young students to fully grasp, Professor Moody quickly snapped back to the matter at hand. His scarred face broke into a wry grin as he addressed Harry and Hermione.

    "No sense in us standing out here in the cold, now is there? Come on, you brave little adventurers, let''s head inside."

    <em>''Brave?''</em> Hermione and Harry exchanged incredulous looks, hardly believing their ears. Of all the ways they had expected Moody to describe theirte-night adventures and eavesdropping on the professors, ''brave'' was certainly not among them.

    But Moody paid no heed to their bewilderment, beckoning for them to follow as he led the way up the marble staircase. Once inside the entrance hall, he turned left, guiding them down a seldom-used corridor.

    Though the wailing wind still found its way into the castle through ssless windows, the guttering torches lining the walls provided a bit of warmth, a wee relief from the bone-chilling cold of the grounds.

    Professor Moody scanned their surroundings with a wary eye, his magical orb whirling at a dizzying pace within its socket. The erratic movement left Hermione feeling vaguely nauseous.

    "Wouldn''t want to make the same mistake as Snape and Karkaroff, now would I?" Moody said with a knowing smirk, taking note of Hermione''s ufortable expression. But hearing this, both Hermione and Harry felt a pang of unease. After all, they had indeed been caught eavesdropping on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation between professors.

    "Like I said--" Moody''sugh came out as a dry, rasping sound that seemed to scrape against the stone walls, making the torches flutter. "I''ve got to hand it to you two for your sheer guts. The truth, though Dumbledore might not want me saying it, is that you just faced off against a pair of right dangerous schemers. You held your own, and that''s no small feat. Looks like my constant preaching about vignce hasn''t been aplete waste after all!"

    Harry, while unsure of the reasoning behind Moody''s unique perspective, found himself inplete agreement with Moody''s scathing assessment of Snape. He couldn''t help but sh a sheepish grin in response.

    Giving their shoulders a gruff pat, Moody pressed on, "Right then, enough chit-chat. I''d wager you got an earful of their little plot, am I right? Out with it, tell me everything you heard. Who wants to start?

    Miss Granger, perhaps you should take the lead. Minerva hasn''t stopped singing praises about that brilliant mind of yours. I doubt a single word escaped your notice, did it?"

    "What?" Hermione blurted out, taken aback by Professor Moody''s brazen request to recount the overheard conversation.

    While it was hardly surprising that Moody would be keen to learn the details of Snape and Karkaroff''s conversation, something about his approach felt vaguely...unsettling to Hermione.

    "You''re a sharp one, Miss Granger. Why do you think I let those two slippery eels off the hook just now?" Moody said gruffly. "Snape and Karkaroff, they''re masters of twisting the truth, weaving lies so convincing you''d swear they were gospel. But Dumbledore, he''s always trying to see the best in folks. Without hard evidence to back us up, they''d just spin more tales and pull the wool over our eyes!"

    Understanding dawned in Harry''s eyes as the pieces fell into ce, his earlier confusion melting away in the face of Moody''s exnation.

    Hermione found herself caught in an internal struggle, her mind racing as the torchlight cast flickering shadows across her face.

    If it had been Professor Watson making this request, she would have shared the information without a moment''s hesitation. But Professor Moody... The situation felt different, charged with an underlying tension she couldn''t quite exin.

    Yes, he had proven himself to be an exceptional Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, currently taking the bold step of teaching them to resist the Unforgivable Curses despite the risk of prosecution. His dedication and willingness to take such risks had earned him the admiration of many young wizards. Yet their personal interactions with him had been limited at best, limited to ssroom encounters where his intensity often left students both impressed and slightly scared.

    As Hermione wavered, uncertain of how to proceed, she caught sight of Harry''s urgent gaze boring into her from the corner of her eye.

    "Sirius thinks Moody is trustworthy--" The unspoken message in Harry''s eyes was clear, and Hermione understood.

    "Actually--" Hermione began, taking a steadying breath as she made her decision. Looking directly at Moody, she continued, "We didn''t overhear Professor Snape and the Durmstrang Headmaster hatching any wicked plots. You see, it''s like this-- Professor Snape mentioned that his office, or rather, his storeroom--"

    A faint blush crept into Hermione''s cheeks as memories of her own secret visit to Snape''s store cupboard rose to the forefront of her mind.

    "--was broken into on the very night that the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations arrived at Hogwarts. He discovered that powdered bicorn horn and Boomng skin had gone missing. Considering yours and Professor Watson''s Halloween night spections in the room behind the Great Hall, Professor Snape seems to suspect that Karkaroff might be the culprit--"

    True to Moody''s earlier statement, Hermione recounted the conversation verbatim, her extraordinary memory allowing her to ry the dialogue with near perfect uracy.

    She quickly summarized the key points of their exchange, right up until the moment when Karkaroff attempted to coax Snape into helping him contact Professor Watson to find information about the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, only for Snape to be cut off before he could voice a response.

    Having finished her ount, both Hermione and Harry focused Professor Moody with expectant stares, eager to hear the insights of such an experienced Auror.

    If Hermione was being entirely honest, she hadn''t detected any ring ws in Snape''s demeanor throughout the night. Perhaps the most significant point of debatey in the fact that he had agreed to meet with the Durmstrang headmaster in the first ce.

    However, Professor Moody seemed to have a different perspective on the situation. His expression turned serious, his vibrant blue magical eye frozen in ce, as though seized by some unseen force.

    "Let me get this straight. Snape reckons someone''s been brewing Polyjuice Potion, and he''s already brought this to the attention of Dumbledore and Watson?"

    Hermione initially nodded in affirmation, only to quickly shake her head a momentter. "Karkaroff leveled that usation against him, but... Professor Snape never actually confirmed or denied it¡­he¡­he didn''t give any answer."

    She spoke tentatively, her gaze fixed upon Professor Moody with an inexplicable sense of unease taking root within her. For the briefest of moments, she could have sworn she detected a flicker of fear in Moody''s face, but no sooner had the thought crossed her mind than she dismissed it as a trick of the light.

    <em>''What could possibly strike fear into the heart of a person like him? it must surely have been a illusion of her overactive imagination.''</em>

    Harry, meanwhile, watched Moody with bated breath, silently hoping that he would unearth some damning evidence that wouldnd Snape in hot water.

    "Karkaroff believes that Dumbledore or Watson put Snape up to this, that they sent him to investigate. Ha! What a load of codswallop... If they genuinely suspected Karkaroff of using Polyjuice Potion, they wouldn''t be sending Snape as a messenger."

    <em>''Did Snape actually tell Dumbledore and Watson that someone in the castle was secretly brewing Polyjuice Potion? And if so, why had they seemingly failed to take any decisive action?''</em>

    Moody fell into a prolonged silence, his brow furrowed in deep contemtion, leaving Harry and Hermione to fidget ufortably in the face of his pensive demeanor. It was only when they finally mustered the courage to speak up to remind him, that he seemed to return to the present moment.

    "No need to fret, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter. I''m quite alright, and you have my thanks," Moody assured them, his spirits appearing to have lifted.

    "The intelligence you''ve provided is precious, absolutely crucial-- Now, I want you two to hurry back to your dormitories. Leave Snape and Karkaroff to me. I''ll be keeping a very close eye on their every move--"

    His piece said, Moody sent Harry and Hermione on their way with a gruff nod of dismissal, his magical eye whirled with renewed purpose as he watched their retreating forms disappear down the torch-lit corridor.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0550 Fantasies

    0550 Fantasies

    Themon room was dim and empty, the only light flickering from the dying embers in the firece. The smoldering pine logs gave off ast bit of warmth, but it was fading fast. Despite the tense events of the day, as Harry and Hermione returned to the familiar space, they felt their spirits finally rx.

    Exhaustion weighed heavily on them both, draining away any desire to rehash or analyze what had transpired. They exchanged brief goodnights before Hermione hurried up the spiral staircase to the girls'' dormitory, her footsteps echoing softly off the stone. Harry lingered a moment longer, then slowly trudged towards the staircase leading to his own bed.

    He grasped the cold iron doorknob and eased the door open, wincing as a sliver of candlelight sliced through the darkness within. The light cut a vague wedge-shaped shadow across the dormitory floor, and Harry found himself transfixed by it. Never before had the simple act of returning to his bed for the night felt so burdensome, so emotionally tense.

    He inhaled a steadying breath, steeling himself, then slipped through the door on silent feet. Relief flooded him as he registered Ron''s figure already in bed - he was deeply grateful to be spared the awkwardness of facing him so soon after their fight. Hogwarts had never seen dorm matese to blows before, and the shameful knowledge that he and Ron probably had been the first sat uneasily in Harry''s gut.

    Seamus was the only one still awake, propped up against his pillows reading a book that was clearly not a serious textbook, if his poorly muffled snorts ofughter were any indication. He nced up as Harry entered, his expression going slightly fixed and cool, but he still nodded in greeting before pointedly setting his book aside and burrowing under his covers.

    Harry stood there woodenly. Truthfully, he had wanted to quietly thank Seamus. If Seamus and Dean hadn''t called Hagrid over today, who knows how things would have ended up! But the words got stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard, hoping he''d have a chance to express his gratitude tomorrow.

    Harry''s gaze shifted to Ron, who was facing the wall not knowing if he was asleep or not. In the heat of the fight, Harry couldn''t remember exactly where his fists hadnded on Ron. But in any case, he did feel some regret. He hoped he had at least avoided striking Ron''s face. Waking up to a ck eye or split lip would only make the tension in the dormitory even more awkward and unbearable.

    A sudden thought crept into Harry''s mind as he extinguished thest candle - ''<em>what would Ron''s reaction be if he knew what just happened?''</em>

    The weight of it settled like a stone in his stomach as he climbed into bed, too emotionally spent to even wash up. He closed his eyes and surrendered gratefully to the dark oblivion of sleep, desperately eager for this wretched day to be over.

    The next few days passed uneventfully, much to Harry''s surprise and relief. The scenes of him and Ron arguing the moment they met, which Harry had anticipated, did note to pass. The two didn''t speak to each other at all. In ss, they sat far apart. In the dormitory, they pretended not to see each other when crossing paths.

    This atmosphere affected their dorm mates too. Laughter, oncemonce in their cozy tower room, was now all but extinct as Seamus, Dean and Neville walked on eggshells, clearly trying not to take sides in the simmering conflict.

    Harry had another reason to feel unhappy and unsettled as the days crept by - Snape strolled into the Great Hall for meals right on time each day, his demeanor as greasily arrogant as ever. After Hermione had informed Moody of Snape and Karkaroff''s suspicious conversation, Harry had expected Snape to be dragged in for questioning by Dumbledore and Watson at the very least.

    Surely, they would demand an exnation for Snape''s inappropriate contact with Karkaroff. Perhaps they would even lock Snape in the dungeons to prevent him from funneling tournament secrets to Karkaroff.

    In Harry''s most vindictive daydreams, Dumbledore and Watson wised up to Karkaroff and Snape''s true Death Eater natures and summoned the Dementors to drag them both off to Azkaban.

    But apparently those scenarios would remain firmly in the realm of Harry''s imagination, given Dumbledore''s and Watson''s continued friendly chats and easyughter with Snape in the Great Hall.

    In Potions ss, Harry sat there ring at Snape as he scratched out instructions on the ckboard, fantasizing about nasty hexes and all sorts of misfortunes befalling him. With Ron''s friendship lost to him, stewing in hatred for Snape seemed to be his emotional crutch.

    He imagined the ssroom door sting open, Professor Moody''s face appearing in the entry way as his magical blue eye fixed on the now cowering Snape.

    "The jig is up, Snape!" Harry envisioned Moody growling as he drew his wand with backup Aurors spilling into the ssroom behind him. "The Ministry has issued a warrant for your arrest. Come quietly if you know what''s good for you. Enjoy rotting in Azkaban for the rest of your miserable life!"

    The vindictive fantasy created a smile on Harry''s face, momentarily covering the dread and frustration churning in his gut.

    A sharp kick to his ankle jerked him out of the daydream. He turned to see Hermione diligently scribbling notes beside him, one hand still over the parchment while the other retreated from his leg back to the tabletop. Her eyes never left Snape, but her brow was creased with concern.

    "Stop smiling like that, it''s scary," Hermione murmured. She was still scribbling notes, but out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Harry''s abnormal expression. It made her worried. In her view, Harry shouldn''t be able tough right now.

    "You''re ruining my good mood, Hermione-" Harry muttered sadly and asked. "Why do you reckon Snape''s still here, anyway? After everything we told Moody, how is he still allowed to teach?"

    Hermione''s response was soft, almost inaudible, her gaze never wavering from her notes. "I''ve told you a thousand times, Harry. It''s highly likely that Snape was acting on orders from Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor Watson when he met with Karkaroff. If that''s the case, they can''t really punish him for following their instructions, now can they?"

    Harry sighed heavily and tore his eyes away from her, not wanting to snap when he knew she was just trying to help.

    "I''ve heard your theories already. But even if Snape is spying on Karkaroff for Dumbledore, they should still be keeping a closer eye on him, finding out what he''s up to. Aren''t they worried he''ll turn double agent and start funneling secrets to Durmstrang?"

    Beside him, Hermione had gone stiff with the quill slipping from her suddenly nerveless fingers. Her face drained of color and her breath seemed to stick in her throat.

    Harry had a split second of confusion - surely his theory wasn''t that shocking? - before realization hit him like a Bludger to the gut.

    "Mr. Potter."

    Snape''s silky, menacing drawl slithered through the suddenly tomblike dungeon ssroom. Harry spun slowly on his stool to face Snape''s desk, a heavy weight already settling in his stomach.

    Snape''s ck eyes glittered with malice from behind his greasy curtains of hair as he fixed Harry with a chilly re. His thin lips curled at the corners, a sarcastic sneer twisting his sallow face into a mask of vindictive glee. He was clearly savoring this moment.

    Harry''s heart sank, already sensing that Gryffindor''s point hourss would likely lose a few more gemstones.

    But Harry, miserable as he was, had still underestimated the depths Snape was willing to sink. Snape stalked toward Harry''s desk, his steps slow, his ck robes pping behind him like the wings of some gigantic predatory bat. He leaned over Harry''s cauldron, blowing the fumes toward his nose, his sneer never wavering.

    "Perhaps, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled, each word dripping with disdain, "you would be so kind as to enlighten us as to the contents of your cauldron?"

    Every eye in the ssroom was fixed on Harry now. He drew himself up straight, summoning every ounce of dignity he possessed, and met Snape''s merciless gaze head on. "It''s the antidote," he bit out through gritted teeth, his knuckles white around hisdle. "I followed the instructions precisely."

    This lesson: they were to work in pairs with one student brewing a poison, and the other an antidote. Hermione, of course, had taken on the poison, leaving Harry to sweat over the corresponding antidote.

    "Oh really?" Snape''s mocking smile grew. He didn''t deduct points for Harry''s disrespectful attitude. Instead, he looked at the nervous Hermione and said in azy tone: "Very well then. Let us put your skills to the test before your peers, Shall we? Miss Granger, if you would be so kind as to sample your own concoction."

    His voice was like silk sliding over steel, soft and enticing yetced with irrefutablemand. "Let us see if Mr. Potter''s antidote is up to snuff, hm?"

    The Slytherins erupted in viciousughter, Pansy Parkinson even leaped up onto her stool in her excitement, craning her neck for a better view. She looked ready to conjure a bucket of popcorn and settle in for the show.

    But the Gryffindors, Ron included, sat in stony, horrified silence, faces pale and set. Even Ron, his body vibrating with fury, made no move to interfere, likely realizing any protest would only make things worse for Harry and Hermione.

    Hermione was chalk white, trembling from head to toe, her eyes turning huge and ssy in her bloodless face. For the first time in all the years Harry had known her, she seemed ready to openly defy a professor''s direct order. Her hands remained clenched in herp, making no move toward the softly simmering cauldron before her.

    Bright spots of color red in Harry''s vision, a red haze of rage descending over his mind. He lunged to his feet, sending his stool skidding away with a harsh scrape of the stones.

    "You can''t do this!" he snarled, the uncontroble fury in his voice rendering it nearly unrecognizable. His wand hand twitched toward his robes pocket, itching with the near overpowering urge to draw on Snape, professor or not.

    "Oh, I assure you, I can," Snape breathed coldly. "And that will be ten points from Gryffindor for your insolence¡­and¡­ not following proper teaching procedures, Mr. Potter."

    His merciless gaze cut back to Hermione, and a vicious smile appeared on his thin lips. "Now, Miss Granger, if you please..."

    Just then, a timid knock sounded at the dungeon door, interrupting Harry''s intention to force-feed Hermione''s brewed poison to Snape.

    The door creaked open to reveal Colin Creevey''s small, terrified face, his eyes darted between Harry, Snape''s poisonous re, and Hermione''s ashen, terrified form.

    "I - I''m meant to fetch Hermione Granger, sir," Colin stammered, his voice shaking slightly. "Mr. Bagman wants her, sir. All the champions have to go, I think they want to take photographs..."

    Snape stood frozen, the grin of his smirk still etched upon his face, but his eyes had gone t and stony. For a long moment, the only sound was Hermione''s hitched, uneven breathing and the muted bubbling of the cauldrons.

    Finally, moving as if every word cost him a great effort, Snape ground out, "Very well. Miss Granger is excused." He sounded as if the sybles were being ripped out of him with rusty pliers. "Get out."

    Hermione bolted out of her seat, snatched up her bag, and practically sprinted for the door. She was chalk white and visibly shaking, but as she brushed past Harry, she shot him a look so drenched with relief and gratitude that he felt a tiny bit of the tension in his neck ease.

    Harry didn''t allow himself to sag though. That would be seen as a weakness.

    He watched Hermione disappear through the door, tracking her progress as Colin swung it shut behind them. He was already running through exnations in his head, bracing himself for the inevitable point loss and detentionsing his way for his outburst.

    But apparently Snape wasn''t done with him yet. As the door thudded closed, the he turned back to Harry with something even uglier than his usual malice sparking in the depths of his eyes.

    "How... disappointing," Snape murmured, his voice like the whisper of a de sliding against a whetstone. "It seems Miss Granger will be spared from sampling your handiwork after all, Mr. Potter."

    Harry stiffened, the dread that had momentarily subsided mming back into him with the force of a stampeding hippogriff. Surely even Snape wouldn''t...

    "I suppose that just leaves you to test your own mettle." There was no mistaking the sadistic relish in Snape''s silky purr. "Drink up, Potter. Let us hope you are as...petent as you seem to believe."

    <strong>...</strong>

    In the Student Safety Office, Bryan and Dumbledore stood by the open window, surveying the Quidditch pitch below where some first years were staggering around under Madam Hooch''s instruction.

    The open window sent inte autumn windced with an icy breath. It seemed the footsteps of this year''s first snowfall were approaching.

    Without looking away from the tiny figures below, Dumbledore said with a hesitant note in his voice, "So you''ve decided to do this, Bryan?"

    "Do I have any choice?" Bryan asked, his tone wry but calm. "If I don''t personally intervene in the Tournament, who else will ensure the children''s safety? I have to go in and bring them back."

    "I had originally nned for Severus¡­" Dumbledore ventured carefully, but a darting nce at Bryan''s suddenly cold expression appropriately halted his original words.

    He allowed the silence to stretch for a long moment, as if carefully selecting his next words. When he did finally speak, his voice was serious.

    "Then you realize this will lead to a direct, personal confrontation with Tom." It wasn''t a question. "And I''m afraid his then form will be quite unlike the diluted shadow you faced at the Quidditch World Cup."

    "Heh." Bryan chuckled. He rolled his shoulders in azy shrug, easing the tension that had settled there. "Funny, I thought if anyone should have faith in my capabilities, it would be you, Headmaster."

    He pushed away from the window and stretched, catlike, before turning and throwing Dumbledore a cheerful wink. "Well then. The Wand Weighing awaits. Shall we?"

    And with a fluid motion, he strode from the office, humming an off-key tune.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0551 Wandlore

    0551 Wandlore

    "It feels as if it were only yesterday when you first stepped into my humble wand shop apanied by Professor Snape," Ollivander began, his misty silver eyes twinkling with nostalgia as his mind drifted back to that day.

    Bryan''s office had unexpectedly weed yet another visitor, none other than Garrick Ollivander, the famous wandmaker in the British wizarding world.

    Ollivander continued his recollection. "From the very moment Iid eyes upon you, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had been graced with the presence of an extraordinary customer."

    Ollivander''s fingers gestured energetically as he spoke, painting an vivid picture of the scene that had unfolded all those years ago.

    "It was immediately apparent to me that you were Muggle-born. However, unlike the vast majority of children raised in the non-magical world, when you crossed the threshold into my shop, your eyes conveyed a depth of caution that far outweighed any sense of curiosity or fear.

    In general, this is a highly unusual trait to find in one so young; precious few children possess the emotional maturity and self-control to maintain suchposure in the face of the unknown. In that instant, I realized that you must have had truly remarkable life experiences up to that point."

    As the elderly Ollivander chattered on incessantly, his voice filled with barely contained excitement, Bryan maintained a polite smile and listened quietly.

    Even Dumbledore himself seemed thoroughly engrossed in the tale, his normally twinkling blue eyes serious and focused as he listened intently to the recollections.

    "Ebony, twelve inches in length, slightly rigid, with a dragon heartstring core. Am I correct in my assessment, Mr. Watson?" Ollivander asked, his bushy white eyebrows raised expectantly.

    "Your memory is as sharp as ever, Mr. Ollivander," Bryan replied with a nod and a slight smile. "The price, if I recall correctly, was six Galleons and ten Sickles. And if memory serves, you even granted me a rather generous discount, citing my ''handsome appearance'' as justification."

    At this, the corners of Dumbledore''s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, as if suppressing a smile, but he remained silent.

    Ollivander, for his part, seemed not to have heard Bryan''s yful remark at all, so deeply immersed was he in his own memories of that day.

    "I have a vivid recollection of the many attempts we made before finally selecting the wand for you, Mr. Watson. A truly remarkable wand, indeed. You see, I remember every single wand I''ve ever sold, every match I''ve ever made between wizard and wand.

    The materials that went into crafting your wand were, on the surface, quite ordinary¡ªa malnourished ebony tree that had the misfortune of growing in a magically and mundanely barren area, and a dragon that had been raised in captivity rather than roaming free in its natural habitat.

    Yes, nothing particrly exceptional about either of those elements taken in istion. At the time, I confess I thought the resulting wand would be a rather unremarkable one. But oh, how wrong I was!

    When those seemingly ordinaryponents werebined, the result was nothing short of astonishing; an exquisitely crafted wand imbued with immense magical power¡ªpower just waiting to be unlocked by the right wizard."

    Bryan leaned forward slightly in his chair, his curiosity piqued by Ollivander''s words.

    The ancient andplex art of wandmaking, a highly specialized branch of alchemy, had always been shrouded in mystery, its most secrets guarded by the Ollivander family for generations. For an outsider to attempt to study wandlore independently would be futile; one might read for a lifetime and still fail to grasp even the most basic underlying principles.

    "Why do you believe that was the case, Mr. Ollivander? What is it about that particrbination of materials that resulted in such a uniquely powerful wand?" Bryan asked, his voice low and intent.

    Ollivander paused for a long moment, his silver eyes distant as he pondered the question.

    "In truth, Mr. Watson, it is difficult to say with any degree of certainty," He replied slowly, his each word carefully measured.

    "The inner workings of wandlore areplex and often inscrutable, even to those of us who have dedicated our lives to unraveling its mysteries. No one, not even the most skilled and knowledgeable of wandmakers, can fully exin why certainbinations of wood, core, and craftsmanship produce the results they do.

    But if you insist on an answer, the best I can offer is this:

    Perhaps that malnourished ebony tree and that captive dragon, for all their apparent ordinariness, both possessed at their core a fierce and unyielding will to excel, to transcend the limitations imposed upon them by circumstance.

    Perhaps, in some inexplicable way, they imbued the wand crafted from their essence with that same indomitable spirit, that same yearning to break free from the confines of the mundane and achieve true greatness. And when atst that wand chose its way into your hand, Mr. Watson, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the young boy who stood before me was destined to go on to aplish extraordinary things¡ª"

    As he spoke, Ollivander''s pale eyes seemed to ze with an otherworldly intensity boring into Bryan as if seeking to pierce the very depths of his soul.

    "But I must confess," And he continued, his voice tinged with something akin to awe, "that even I, with all my decades of experience, failed to anticipate the true scope of your potential, Mr. Watson. Your achievements have surpassed even my wildest expectations.

    I confess that, at that time, I harbored a nagging suspicion that you were destined to walk the path of the dark arts, to be perhaps one of the most feared and renowned dark wizards the world had ever known.

    No offense meant, of course, Mr. Watson. It was simply that I sensed in that wand a profound longing to serve a master who would be relentless in his pursuit of power, someone who would never rest in his quest to transcend all limitations and gain greater power¡ª"

    "Hehe¡ª" Bryanughed without any misgivings. "It would seem, then, that I was fortunate enough to receive the proper guidance and support along the way, to steer me away from that darker path?"

    "Not entirely, Mr. Watson," Ollivander replied, shaking his head slowly. "While it is true that the influence of those around you no doubt yed a role in shaping your destiny, in the end, it was your own fundamental nature that was decisive.

    The purity of your spirit, the innate kindness andpassion that reside at your core¡ªthese are the qualities that allowed you to resist the siren song of power for its own sake. In choosing the path of light over the path of darkness, you demonstrated a strength of character that is all too rare in this world. And it was that strength, I believe, that ultimately earned you the true allegiance of your wand."

    "I must admit, Bryan," Dumbledore interjected with a wry smile, "I doubt you ever imagined that a wandmaker you met only once, however briefly, would be able to see through you simply by virtue of the wand he crafted."

    Seeing Ollivander now looking at him resentfully, Dumbledore nced over at him and continued. "And as for you, Garrick, as I recall, you''ve made a point of expressing your regret over a certain matter during ourst several meetings. I hardly think there''s a need to dredge up the subject yet again¡ª"

    "Oh, but why ever not?" Bryan asked, his curiosity inly piqued as he looked back and forth between the two. "What is this matter you speak of? If it''s not too much trouble, Mr. Ollivander, I would be most interested in hearing more."

    Dumbledore''s expression immediately shifted to one of resignation, as if he knew that his own small secret was about to beid bare.

    "It pains me to say it, but Albus made the decision to give up the wand he originally obtained from my father," Ollivander said with a note of old resentment coloring his voice. "I feel I must tell you, Albus, that even on his deathbed, my father was still muttering about your decision¡ª"

    "Is that so?" Bryan said, unable to conceal his surprise at this revtion. "That is indeed a most unusual thing for a wizard to do. Under normal circumstances, one would never even consider such a thing."

    "And I assure you, Bryan, it was not a decision I made lightly," Dumbledore replied, his voice calm and even. "Unfortunately, due to my own carelessness and misuse in my youth, my original wand sustained significant damage in those years. In the end, I was left with no choice but to seek out a recement¡ª"

    "As I recall, it was in the aftermath of that world-shaking duel¡ª" Ollivander interjected, a sly note entering his voice. At his words, the corners of Dumbledore''s mouth twitched once more, as if he were physically restraining himself from responding.

    "Ah, I see," Bryan murmured, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. In the past, he had seen Dumbledore wield his current wand on numerous asions, it was a peculiar elder wand.

    It was also a peculiar choice of material for wands, one seldom seen in the hands of modern wizards. At the time, Bryan had thought little of it. However, after Ollivander''s reminder and Dumbledore''s reluctance to discuss it further, he vaguely sensed that the matter was not simple.

    "This wand is¡ª" Bryan stared thoughtfully at Dumbledore''s sleeve, where he usually kept his wand.

    "I''m afraid we have little time for further discussion on the matter, Bryan," Dumbledore interrupted, "The Triwizard champions will be arriving in the ssroom downstairs at any moment, and it is necessary for us to be there to greet them."

    He nced over at Ollivander, a hint of regret entering his eyes. "Garrick, the reason I asked you here today was to consult with you regarding the two wands crafted from Fawkes'' tail feathers. I trust you remember the ones to which I refer¡ª"

    "Ah yes, the wands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Harry Potter," Ollivander replied, his eyes gleaming with sudden intensity. "The only two wands in existence to share a core taken from the same phoenix. It''s the stuff of wandlore legend, Albus. To think, the most terrible dark wizard our world has ever known, and the boy who against all odds managed to defeat him, both linked by amon thread. If that''s not a clear sign that their fates are inextricably intertwined, I don''t know what is!"

    "Forgive me, Mr. Ollivander," Bryan interjected, "but would you mind rifying your meaning a bit? If the two wands share cores taken from the same magical creature, what precisely would happen if they were ever toe into contact with one another?"

    "Ah, Mr. Watson, that is the question, isn''t it?" Ollivander replied, a cryptic smile appearing across his aged face. "You see, contrary to popr belief, it is the wand that chooses the wizard, and not the other way around. I''ve made a point of sharing that bit of wisdom with every young witch and wizard who''s ever stepped through my door, but s, precious few seem to grasp the true significance of it.

    The fact of the matter is that wands are not mere tools to be wielded; they are living things in their own right, imbued with a form of sentience that cannot be easily exined. They have their own thoughts. Therefore, wands do not necessarily have to obey themands of the wizard they belong to.

    However, from the moment a wand first bonds with a witch or wizard, it bes an inextricable part of them¡ªan extension not just of their magic, but of their very being."

    Bryan''s thoughts flickered rapidly. He immediately understood the meaning of the first half of Ollivander''s exnation. "So, what you''re saying is that if two wizards whose wands share amon origin were ever to face one another in battle¡ª"

    "The wands themselves would loath to act against each other," Dumbledore finished. "And yet, if their masters were to try and force them to do so regardless, the result would be...unpredictable, to say the least. Based on my own research and consultations with Garrick, it seems likely that one of the wands wouldpel the other to spew up the spells it had most recently cast, but in reverse order. A phenomenon known as Priori Incantatem, the Reverse Spell effect."

    "And I suppose simply switching to a different wand wouldn''t be enough to circumvent plication?" Bryan asked, his eyes narrowed in thought.

    "Hehe, oh no, Mr. Watson," Ollivander replied, shaking his head with a mysterious smile. "As I said, once a wand has chosen its master, the two be bound together on a fundamental level. It is a bond that transcends simple ownership; a wand is not a hat or a cloak to be discarded and reced on a whim.

    No, the only way to truly sever the connection between the wizard and his wand is for the two to develop a mutual loathing for one another so intense, that they both voluntarily choose to relinquish their allegiance."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0552 Wand-weighing Ceremony

    0552 Wand-weighing Ceremony

    Bryan lowered his gaze, his mind racing as he quietly pondered the implications of Ollivander''s words. He could roughly understand what Ollivander meant.

    The more Bryan considered it, the more he came to realize that Harry was, in every sense, the perfect opponent chosen by fate for Voldemort. Their souls were intertwined, bound together by the twin wands they wielded, each housing at its core a feather from the tail of Fawkes.

    And if Voldemort did indeed choose to use Harry''s blood in the dark ritual that would restore him to physical form, it would forge yet another link between them, anotheryer of connection to add to those that already existed.

    These three ties¡ªthe link between their souls, the bond of their wands, the mingling of their blood¡ªeach represented a form of powerful magical protection in its own right. Bryan tried to imagine himself in Voldemort''s position, and he couldn''t help but shudder at the thought of trying to ovee such defenses.

    Bryan nced sneakily at Dumbledore, trying to gauge his reaction to Ollivander''s words, but his expression remained inscrutable, revealing not even a hint of his inner thoughts.

    Bryan felt a sudden surge of admiration for the man.

    To an outside observer, the situation might have appeared dire, with the Dark Lord biding his time in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to plot his return. But Dumbledore had already mapped out the path to Voldemort''s ultimate defeat. Perhaps the only remaining obstacle in Voldemort''s demise were his Horcruxes.

    In theory, Dumbledore''s n wasprehensive, perhaps a masterstroke that would checkmate the Dark Lord and put an end to his reign of terror once and for all.

    And indeed, in theory, that''s how it was, but unexpected events always urred, right? Just like this time, he and Dumbledore had already gained the upper hand, but the result was still an unexpected situation.

    Because of his appearance, the originally predetermined ''destiny'' of this world had diverged. It seemed that he had perfectly dealt with most of the crises, but in reality, those invisible dangers were lurking in the dark. Bryan had a feeling... no, it could almost be determined that on a certain day in the future, these umted crises wouldpletely explode. At that time, the situation would likely be uncontroble!

    Dumbledore, for his part, seemed content to take a back seat for the time being, to let others handle the day-to-day affairs of the school and the tournament. He had already delegated most of his responsibilities to Professor McGonagall, entrusting her with the smooth operation of Hogwarts itself, while Bryan had to serve as the school''s public face, its representative in all dealings with the outside world.

    "Shall we, Mr. Ollivander?" Bryan said atst, rising from his seat and gesturing for him to follow. "I believe it''s time we met our champions and got this wand inspection underway."

    The room set aside for the ceremonial examination of the champions'' wands was located on the second floor of the castle, a spacious ssroom that had been specially prepared for the asion. It would serve not only as the site of the inspection itself, but also as a venue for the champions to make their first official appearance Infront of the gathered representatives of the wizarding press.

    Bryan had been flooded with requests for interviews and exclusive ess to the tournament participants, but he had thus far managed to keep the media at bay, determined to shield the young champions from the spotlight for as long as possible. He knew all too well the kind of pressure that came with being thrust into the public eye, and he had no desire to subject the champions to that particr ordeal any sooner than absolutely necessary.

    But now, with the first task looming on the horizon, the time hade to give the champions a small taste of the scrutiny that awaited them. It was crucial that they begin to develop a sense of the stakes involved, to understand the weight of the expectations that had been ced upon their young shoulders.

    A long corridor on the second floor resounded with a buzzing roar, as if thousands of bees were pping their wings. When descending the stairs, Bryan found that Filch, who was ordered by him to maintain order, had been squeezed out of the ssroom door arranged for reception. He was struggling to squeeze into the ssroom while letting out desperate shouts.

    "Well, well," Ollivander chuckled, seeming not the least bit disturbed by the chaotic scene that awaited them. "It seems we have quite the lively gathering on our hands. I must say, it''s been manyyears since I''ve seen such enthusiasm for a simple wand inspection."

    "Let me handle it¡ª" Bryan arrived behind Filch, patted his shoulder, and took out his wand. Standing in the corridor, he pointed it at the ssroom. After a series ofplex spells, the space suddenly became hazy for a moment. Then, the reporters in the ssroom felt a dizzying sensation. When they came back to their senses, they were amazed to find that the space in the ssroom had changed greatly, bing asrge as the Great Hall below.

    "Well, that''s more like it!" one of the photographers grumbled, rubbing at a foot that had been trampled on in the earlier crush. "Wish someone had thought to do that from the start!"

    But then, as if by some unspoken signal, all eyes turned to the doorway, where Bryan now stood against the light spilling in from the corridor beyond. For a moment, a hush fell over the room as every gaze locked onto him.

    And then, just as quickly as it had descended, that silence was shattered by an eruption of noise that seemed to shake the walls of the castle, a roar of sound that was somehow even more deafening than the mor that hade before it.

    "You promised me an exclusive interview, Watson!" Rita Skeeter was the first to shout. She stood on tiptoe among arge group of colleagues, screaming shrilly. Her oddly stiff wavy hair had already be a mess, and her bejeweled eyes had many fingerprints on them for some reason.

    "You''re the only one the Daily Prophet sent, aren''t you?" Even though the ssroom was noisy, Bryan still managed to make his voice reach Rita''s ears precisely.

    Dozens of camera shes went off simultaneously in front of Bryan, and many people were talking to him.

    "Mr. Watson!" one of them yelled, a wizard with a distinct American ent. "The tournamentmittee just announced that Hogwarts as the host school is going to be allowed two champions this go around! Any truth to the rumors that you pulled some strings to give your school a little home field advantage?"

    "Talk about your views on the four champions, Mr. Watson!" A goblin jumped onto the top of a pile of desks on one side of the ssroom, frantically waving his arms at Bryan. "Who do you think is most likely to win?"

    "WWN announced that they would use special means to broadcast the Triwizard Tournament events simultaneously in multiple countries all across Europe. Goblins have been renting multiple Muggle sports venues and selling tickets, and preliminary investigations involve a huge amount of money. They all imed to have permission from the tournament organizers, but there''s been some nasty rumors floating around about kickbacks and backroom deals! Care toment, Professor Watson?"

    Each of the more than 100 reporters in the ssroom were asking questions, some of them were quite sharp. But Bryan seemed to take no notice of the barrage of questions, his smile never wavering as he made his way across the room towards the small group of champions and their respective headmasters. On his way forward, the excited reporters parted like butter cut by a hot knife. No one dared to block his path.

    Finally, Bryan saw the champions surrounded by people. Judging from their expressions, they seemed to be quite frightened by the scene.

    Viktor and Fleur had both dealt with the public before, but they looked helpless at the moment, not knowing how to face the excited interviewers. Fortunately, Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff were here, so they were not too nervous.

    But it was the Hogwarts champions who truly looked out of their depth, their faces were pale and strained as they stared out at the sea of eager faces that surrounded them. Cedric and Hermione looked for all the world like a pair of frightened rabbits caught in the jaws of a pack of hungry wolves.

    "You''ve arrived not a moment too soon, Monsieur Watson," Madame Maxime said stiffly, her voice tight with barely suppressed anger.

    "Indeed," Karkaroff added acidly, plucking at arge hole in the sleeve of his silver furred robe. "We are truly fortunate to have such a shining example of Hogwarts'' organizational prowess on disy for all the world to see."

    "My deepest apologies," Bryan replied, his smile taking on a faintly rueful tone. "Indeed, someone suggested to me to arrange this meeting on a day off, so the professors would have time to help maintain order. But I thought if we arranged it that way, it might cause even more chaos. You know, the young wizards in this school have a strong curiosity."

    Bryan looked at Cedric and Hermione, giving them a reassuring look, which finally allowed the two terrified young wizards to rx their shoulders that had been tense for a long time.

    "Well then!" Ludo Bagman squeezed out from somewhere, panting and dizzy, looking like he had just been bombarded by reporters. "What''s next on the agenda, Bryan?"

    Bryan looked around and didn''t see Barty Crouch, which was expected.

    "Before we introduce our champions to the world," he said, pitching his voice to carry throughout the room, "we have a bit of traditional ceremony to attend to. It''s time to inspect the tools these brave young souls will be relying on as they face the challenges ahead¡ªthe wands that will be their constantpanions throughout theing trials."

    Hermione noticed that Professor Watson didn''t do anything special, but after he started speaking, the ce suddenly became orderly,pletely unlike the previous chaos. She didn''t even remember how she entered this ssroom. It seemed that as soon as she appeared at the door, she was carried in by countless hands.

    The wand-weighing itself was an almost perfunctory affair, a bit of empty ceremony that seemed more for the benefit of the gathered media than anything else. One by one, the champions stepped forward to present their wands for inspection, Ollivander examined each in turn.

    A few muttered incantations, a shower of sparks here and there, and it was done. As rituals went, it was hardly the most thrilling thing Hermione had ever witnessed.

    Slightly more interesting was the next order of business¡ªthe taking of the champions'' measurements by the proprietor of drags Wizardwear, who had been contracted to provide their official tournament robes. He took the champions'' measurements in a small room conjured out of thin air by Bryan Watson.

    Fleur gave Bryan a resentful re but ultimately didn''t raise any objections under the watchful eyes of everyone.

    In all, the whole process took perhaps half an hour, with the champions standing stiffly as they were poked and prodded and measured. At longst, Bryan called an end to the spectacle, inviting the champions and their respective headmasters to take their seats at a long table that had been set up at the front of the room.

    "And now," Bryan said with a smile, "I believe we''re ready to field a few of the questions that have been burning in the minds of witches and wizards across the globe. But do be mindful of the time,dies and gentlemen. We wouldn''t want to keep our champions away from their studies for too long, now would we?"

    "Mr. Watson!" As if time had resumed, the erged ssroom immediately became noisy. The pressure brought by the eager reporters made even the headmasters of the other two schools feel suffocated, let alone the immature champions.

    Many people were asking questions, but Bryan still picked out Rita Skeeter. After all, they had some history, although it was hard to say whether it was good or bad.

    "Ms. Skeeter," he said, nodding to Rita whose hand had shot up like a student eager to impress a favorite teacher. "I believe you had a question for us?"

    "Rumor has it that among the two Hogwarts champions this time, one was selected through means that did notply with the rules!" Rita looked sharply at Hermione, and her sharp question made Hermione''s face turn pale, her body stiff as if she had been hit by a Petrification Curse. "To cover up the scandal, the tournament organizers temporarily modified the rules, allowing Hogwarts to have two champions. Would you care toment on these allegations, Professor Watson?"

    This question, which made Hermione''s heart tremble, did not shake the gentle smile on Bryan''s face.

    "I''m afraid Ms. Skeeter has been misinformed," Bryan said smoothly, his voice carrying across the room with rity. "The truth of the matter is far less sensational than the striking imaginings of the rumor mill."

    He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, and then continued. "As many of you may recall, this is the first Triwizard Tournament to include an age restriction for potential champions. In years past, any student was eligible topete, regardless of their age. But out of caution, and a desire to ensure the safety of all participants, the organizers of this year''s tournament found it appropriate to limit the champions to only those students who are of age."

    After another pause, Bryan continued. "Needless to say, this decision was not universally popr among the students of the three schools. Many underage students felt that they were being unfairly excluded, that their skills and abilities were being overlooked simply because of an arbitrary age limit. And so, in the spirit of fairness and inclusivity, the Hogwarts administration decided to conduct a bit of an experiment."

    He gestured to Hermione then, and she felt the weight of every eye in the room settle upon her. "Miss Granger here was one of a select group of outstanding students chosen to participate in this trial run. Their names were submitted to the Goblet of Fire alongside those of their older peers, as a way of testing the feasibility of expanding the champions in future tournaments.

    And as you can see, the Goblet found Miss Granger worthy of representing her school on the grandest stage our world has to offer. She willpete on behalf of not just Hogwarts, but of every underage witch and wizard who has ever dreamed of testing their mettle in thispetition."

    <em>''It was a lie. Aplete and utter fabrication, spun out of whole cloth with nary a shred of truth to it.''</em>

    Hermione could hardly believe the ease with which the words flowed from Professor Watson''s lips, the sheer audacity of the tale he had concocted on the spot. How could he stand there, bold as brass, and spout such tant lies in front of so many witnesses?

    If Bryan knew Hermione''s thoughts, he might smile and say to her, "You''re too naive¡ª"

    The truth always spreads only in a very small circle. Even if all Hogwarts students could tell that something was wrong, it was still a minority. For the tens of thousands of magical folks in the vast European Wizarding world, they just wanted to watch the excitement. They would even hope that the Triwizard Tournament would produce as many champions as possible. As for the reason behind this incident, a logically sound exnation was enough for them.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 0553 Guests

    0553 Guests

    As the long-awaited Triwizard Tournament drew ever nearer, Bryan found himself increasingly besieged with a flood of responsibilities and tasks that demanded his time and attention. In an effort to maintain order and safety on the day of thepetition, Hogwarts had made the decision to release only a limited number of spectator seats to the eager public.

    For the European magicalmunity, which had been blessed with an extended period of tranquility and peace, the chance to witness in person the opening task of the first Triwizard Tournament in centuries was an opportunity that countless socialites and dignitaries were desperate not to miss.

    Applications to secure a spot to watch the tournament poured into Hogwarts like snowkes nketing the grounds in winter. It was not only Bryan and Dumbledore who were besieged with requests, but all the teaching staff and faculty members of Hogwarts, each of whom had their ownwork of friends, rtives, and acquaintances.

    Many of the countless letters that flooded into the school in recent days contained subtly expressed requests, hoping to be allowed into Hogwarts on the day of the task. Even Professor Snape requested a spot for a friend who was well-versed in potions.

    This delicate matter of sorting through the overwhelming influx of requests and determining who would be granted entry fell directly on Bryan''s already overly burdened shoulders.

    It was impossible to amodate everyone who wished to attend, and so difficult choices had to be made, with only a select fortunate few being given the green light to watch the tournament in person.

    For those whose applications were not approved, Bryan sent letters expressing his sincere apologies and conveying his regret.

    Based on his usual style, this was not a task that Bryan liked or was particrly keen on undertaking. But he was aware that he no longer represented only himself; he had be a living symbol of Hogwarts.

    In theplex and interconnected web of rtions that epassed the Wizarding world under the sun, it was a blunt reality that it was simply not feasible to always act solely ording to one''s own whims and desires.

    In addition to the task of coordinating the spectators, theplex logistics of broadcasting the tournament to the wider wizarding world also consumed an immense deal of Bryan''s time and energy.

    The goblins of Gringotts and the Wizarding Wireless Network (WWN) had already sessfully reached a cooperation agreement, and the process of securing and setting up the necessary venue rentals was also proceeding at a fast pace.

    WWN had generously sent over several pieces of their test'' equipment previously used for transmitting radio signals to assist with the broadcast. However, only Bryan possessed the knowledge and technical expertise to convert the visual images into magical field signals and then restore them for transmission - this was a closely guarded core technology that Bryan simply couldn''t entrust to anyone else, so he had to personally handle this critical work himself.

    <strong>Bang!</strong> A mesmerizing swirl of vibrant, colorful mes suddenly materialized in the midst of Bryan''s messy student safety office, which was currently swarming with a chaotic jumble of mechanical parts andponents. As the shimmering fire dissipated, an utterly exhausted-looking Bryan emerged from the dancing mes, apanied by Fawkes.

    Early this morning, Bryan had left Hogwarts to the St Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries to engage in discussions regarding a potential cooperation. The purpose of this meeting was to secure an agreement that when the tournament day finally arrived, St Mungo''s would dispatch an elite team of their most skilled and experienced healers to be stationed on stand-by at Hogwarts.

    Although Bryan was confident that with both Dumbledore and himself present, the chances of any kind of major mass-injury incident urring were slim to none, one could never be too careful. In the unlikely event that something catastrophic did ur, he knew all too well that Madam Pomfrey, as capable as she was, would simply not be able to handle such a crisis alone.

    "Go on now," Bryan said softly to Fawkes, who was hovering in midair. After seeing Fawkes off to return to his true master, Bryan turned his weary gaze to the mess of parts andponents littering everywhere, a small tinge of mncholy welled up inside him and he let out a long, heavy sigh.

    Half of November had already passed. At this time of year, starry moonlit nights were a rare sight at Hogwarts. Tonight was no exception. Outside the window, the sky was overcast with gloomy clouds. The moonlight illuminating the earth was obscured byyers of clouds, forming only an irregr patch of light high in the sky.

    Suddenly, without warning, a flickering sh of ethereal silver light prated effortlessly through the stone wall and came to an abrupt halt directly in front of Bryan. The silver phoenix spread its wings, scattering dreamlike specks of light. Its azure eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement.

    "I trust things went smoothly today, Bryan?"

    "Let''s dispense with the pleasantries and cut straight to the heart of the matter, Headmaster Dumbledore," Bryan replied concisely, his face darkening into a scowl of impatience and annoyance. "Why have you seen fit to disturb me at thiste hour? Kindly enlighten me as to what could be so direly important."

    "Ah, I do apologize for the abruptness of this intrusion" The ethereal phoenix said, blinking slowly at Bryan with an air of mischief. "You see, just half an hour ago, the organizers of our uing tournament had the rather unexpected pleasure of delivering the chosen opponents for our champions to the gates of Hogwarts. As we speak, these visitors are being escorted to a temporary ce of lodging within the depths of the Forbidden Forest.

    It urred to me that, considering the, shall we say, unique nature of these special ''guests'', they may not necessarily find the environment of the forest to be to their liking. As such, I felt it would be better for you to go and assess the situation, Bryan."

    "And why, pray tell, are you not attending to this matter yourself, Headmaster?" Bryan said bluntly.

    "s, I would not dream of imposing upon you in this way under normal circumstances!" The phoenix eximed, blinking at Bryan with an exaggerated air of innocence. "But surely you would not have the heart to force a poor, frail centenarian such as myself to endure the biting cold wind and nighttime dew to go and face a fearsome group of dragons in the dark of the forest at thiste hour?

    My old bones simply couldn''t bear it! Besides, I thought you might be happy to catch-up with young Charlie Weasley, who has been tasked with apanying these ''guests'' on their journey to Hogwarts."

    "You''re more ck-hearted than those alchemy workshop owners, Headmaster Dumbledore."

    Ignoring the phoenix Patronus''s chuckling, Bryan walked straight out of the office.

    It was eight o''clock in the evening now, and there weren''t many young wizards and witches in the castle. However, almost every young wizard he met had a face full of anticipation and eagerness, and the air in the castle was tinged with a sense of anxiety.

    These young wizards were all looking forward to next Wednesday''s arrival, so they could watch the spectacle to their hearts'' content. They must have noticed that for the sake of this event, Professor Watson, who passed by them, had been working day and night for many days.

    The location where the dragons were to be temporarily stationed had been meticulously selected well in advance, and therefore Bryan required no guidance to navigate the grounds - he knew exactly where he needed to go.

    Bryan wondered why the team escorting the dragons had arrived a day earlier than originally scheduled. And with this question in mind, he quickly made his way along thekeshore.

    About twenty minutester, Bryan turned into the Forbidden Forest along a small path. At this point, recognizing the direction was no longer particrly difficult, because through the dense trees, the dark depths of the forest asionally erupted with intense mes and angry roars.

    Bryan swiftly circled around a small grove of ancient oaks and found himself standing at the edge of a massive enclosure, its high walls constructed of thick, sturdy wooden boards.

    The sight was familiar to him - after all, he himself had been responsible for a great deal of the intricate spellwork that had gone into reinforcing and warding the structure to ensure it would serve as a suitable ce of confinement for its intended inhabitants.

    However, much to Bryan''s surprise and consternation, it appeared that the "guests from afar" had not yet taken up residence in their designated new amodations. Instead, four enormous carriages were parked haphazardly in the clearing beside the empty enclosure, each onerger than the Beauxbatons carriage.

    The wooden boardsprising all four sides of each carriage had clearly been hastily dismantled, revealing the iron-wrought cages contained within and the agitated, writhing forms of the dragons imprisoned inside them.

    "I''ve had enough!" A voice suddenly cried out in pure exasperation from amidst the group of wizards who were cautiously gathered around the four cages at a safe distance. "For the love of Merlin, let''s just stun the bloody things and get them into the sted enclosure so we can be done with this!"

    As he spoke, the clearly frustrated wizard raised his wand, his stance indicating his firm intention to cast a spell at the unruly dragons. But before he could utter so much as a single incantation, a short, sturdy figure hastily interrupted him with hands raised in a pacifying gesture.

    "Hold on there, Lovek!" the red-haired neer called out urgently. "Don''t do anything rash, now! Firing off stunners will only enrage them further - they''re bound to be a bit wary and on edge in a strange new ce after such a long journey. We have to be patient and handle them carefully."

    "Patient?!" the first wizard sputtered incredulously, his face flushing a shade of red as he red at hispanion. "You must be joking, Charlie! We''ve been trekking non-stop for over half a ruddy MONTH to bring these scaly monstrosities here, in case you''ve forgotten!

    At this point all I want in this life is to down a bottle of Ogden''s finest in one gulp and then copse onto the nearest avable bed and sleep for a week! So, forgive me if I''m not overflowing with patience at the moment!"

    In their cages, the four massive dragons shifted and snorted, smoke curling from their nostrils. Each beast wore a sturdy iron chain as thick as a man''s arm around its neck, and though they weren''t precisely making an excessive amount of fuss, they were clearly on high alert, their eyes scanning their new surroundings with open suspicion and hostility.

    Whenever one of the dragon handlers attempted to approach the iron cages to examine the locks, the dragons would immediately let loose with ear-splitting screeches of warning and send blistering gouts of white-hot me shooting toward the witches and wizards.

    <em>''Tsk, tsk, how much would this be worth?''</em> Bryan thought to himself, observing the chaotic scene with an air of keen interest tinged with amusement.

    To be honest, half a month of travel had exhausted Charlie as well. Before this, he had never escorted dragons on such a long-distance relocation. So even though he was reluctant to use magic to quiet the dragons, he had to seriously consider Lovek''s suggestion.

    Bryan stepped forward out of the concealing darkness of the trees and into the brightness of the re-lit clearing.

    "Having a spot of trouble, are we Charlie?"

    Just as Charlie was determined to call hispanions to cast spells on the dragons, the sudden voice behind him startled him. Then, his face lit up with pleasant surprise.

    "It''s you, Bryan!"

    As soon as the words left Charlie''s mouth, however, an astonishing change came over the four dragons, who had up until that moment been crouched warily within their cages, growling out with displeasure at the dragon-keepers'' continued efforts to cage them into their new enclosure.

    The dragons fell into a collective stupor upon seeing Bryan approach. Then, in the blink of an eye, the four pairs of fierce pupils were filled with towering fury!

    <strong>Roar! Boom!</strong>

    For half a month, these dragons had tried countless times to break free from the iron cages. They knew they couldn''t seed, but after the gray-haired, purple-eyed wizard approached, the dragons let out a unanimous roar. They struck the cages as if their lives depended on it, opening their bloody mouths full of fangs. The next moment, mes as intense as the zing sun filled the vision of all the dragon handlers!

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 0554 Supression

    0554 Supression

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    The sudden eruption of the dragon''s fiery breath was a sight to behold. A vortex of swirling, searing mes roared forth, bathing the entire area in a blinding, scorching light. To the panicking dragon handlers, it was as if the gates of hell itself had opened up before them, unleashing an unstoppable avnche of primal, draconic rage.

    The rising mes surged forward with the unstoppable force of magma bursting from the broken earth. In an instant, the cool night air transformed into a raging inferno.

    An oppressive, sizzling heat radiated out in pulsing waves, distorting the air into shimmering scarlet mirages. The dragon''s breath extended like molten tentacles, hungrilyshing out to sear and consume everything in their path.

    Under the shrill, ear-piercing wails of the dragons were the handlers'' terrified screams.

    Though the direct reach of the mes stretched around forty feet, the blistering heat permeated out to a hundred feet in all directions, turning the entire zone into a boiling cauldron where no one dared to remain.

    The trees nearest to the assault stood no chance. Before they could even catch me, they instantly evaporated into wisps of charcoal-ck smoke, swept away by the scorching, howling winds. As the topyer of dead leaves and bushes was stripped away by the ze, the exposed dark, damp soil of the forest floor was almost immediately baked into a cracked yellow crust.

    "Charlie, what in Merlin''s name is happening?" Lovek cried out, his voice cracking with dismay and disbelief.

    The instant the captive dragons first showed signs of growing distress and agitation, the experienced handlers had already begun backing away to a cautious distance. Charlie, without a word, firmly grasped the arm of Bryan and hastily pulled him back as well, retreating from the rampaging beasts.

    Lovek stared ck-jawed at the apocalyptic scene unfolding before them.

    "I''ve worked with dragons most of my life," he said in numb shock, "and I''ve never seen anything like this--"

    Charlie also gawked at the frenzied dragons, his eyes wide with bewilderment. His rough hand still clutched Bryan''s arm in a tight grip as various thoughts and realizations whirled through his mind. Then suddenly, he whipped his head around to stare at Bryan with teeth gritted and eyes shing with anger.

    "Bryan, you''ve killed dragons before, haven''t you?" Charlie snarled usingly over the roaring firestorm. "Killed them in the wild!"

    On Charlie''s normally friendly face, an expression of fury grew, making him nearly unrecognizable. He red at Bryan with zing intensity, not bothering to control his booming voice despite being so close.

    The zing heat caused exposed boulders to glow with hellish glow before finally surrendering to the thermal assault and violently breaking into superheated debris.

    Covered in showers of fire, these zing rocks arced through the air, burning like falling stars torn from the space before crashing back to the charred ground dozens of feet away.

    Yet for all the scale of devastation unleashed by the dragons, their outburst was not quite enough to rm Bryan. He still let Charlie to maintain his grip on his arm, continuing to observe the unfolding chaos with an air of interest.

    "Uh¡ª"

    He had originally thought the dragons'' strange behavior was because they sensed his presence as a threat, causing them to go berserk. However, Charlie''s usatory words surprised him.

    "Why would you think that, Charlie?" Bryan asked, his eyes wide with mild puzzlement.

    "Dragons raised in captivity arepletely different from their wild kin, Bryan," Charlie growled through clenched teeth. "They''re much more perceptive than you think. Somehow, they can tell you''ve spilled the blood of wild dragons before!"

    "Is that so?" Bryan replied, continuing to blink with an air of innocent bewilderment. "Is it not possible that the long, arduous journey here simply left them disoriented and hypersensitive? Couldn''t their tense senses be mistakenly perceiving a threat where none exists?"

    "Not a chance!" Under the zing mes'' illumination, Charlie''s face still looked dark as he red at Bryan. "A dragon''s senses are infinitely keener than a wizard''s. Under normal circumstances, they would never lose control to this degree. At most, they might grow a bit agitated, perhaps try to break free and escape. But these dragons are all brooding mothers. In their current state, trapped and hysterical, they''re convinced someone is trying to murder their precious eggs!"

    "Ah, well, erm, you see--" Now that things hade to this, Bryan could only continue making excuses. "I just remembered..." he said with feigned annoyance. "few years ago, while I was traveling around the world, I was attacked by a wild dragon. At the time, my magical abilities were not yet at their current level, you understand. To save my life, I had no choice but to go all out...."

    He shed a strained grin, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Ancient history, all water under the bridge now. The question is, do you need my help in pacifying this situation?"

    "Absolutely not!" Charlie snapped, still eyeing Bryan with deep suspicion, unable to determine if his story held even a shred of truth. "You''ve done quite enough already. Just hurry up and leave from their presence. I''m sure they''ll settle down quickly enough once you''re gone."

    <strong>CLANG!</strong>

    Just as Charlie was attempting to expel the instigator of the dragon''s agitation, a piercing, metallic ring suddenly cut through the thunderous noise of shrieking roars and howling gales.

    Though nearly drowned out by the overwhelming noise, that single clear note of sound still managed to strike a bolt of terror through the hearts of Charlie and the other handlers.

    "Charlie, we''re finished!" Lovek cried out in despair, his face turning ashen. "That sound, it can only mean one thing - the dragon burned through its cage! I bet it''s that Hungarian Horntail. Of all the dragons, it alone possesses the power to melt steel with its breath. What do we do? It might fly to the castle and massacre the children!"

    "No...no, it will note to that," Charlie murmured, his voice suddenly drained of all emotion. Slowly, mechanically, he rotated to face Bryan once more with a corner of his eye twitching.

    "Bryan...I beg of you...show mercy to these poor creatures. They are not in their right minds, consumed by fear for their offspring. They know not what they do. So please...no matter what happens...don''t go all out again¡ª"

    "Of course¡ª" The corner of Bryan''s mouth twitched. "If I knock the dragons out, I can''t very well enter the arena and fight the champions myself."

    The moment he finished speaking, a ripple of purple shed in Bryan''s eyes, and his wand had already appeared in his palm.

    Realizing Bryan was about to take action, the handlers showed awe on their faces, Charlie included. After all, on the night of the Quidditch final, he had been present on the scene with Sirius and the others.

    Bryan gave his wand a single, almostzy flick, and a whispering wind raced out from him in all directions, invisible but palpably powerful. To the amazed eyes of the onlookers, it was as if an immense ethereal eraser had suddenly materialized in the ravaged air, attacking the raging inferno at its outermost edges.

    Starting from the farthest reaches where the dragon fire was already losing potency, the intangible force swept inwards, extinguishing the mes as easily as wiping a simple scribble from a ssroom chalkboard.

    In the time of a few heartbeats, the hellish orange and crimson hues that had engulfed the night receded into oblivion, reced once more by deep cks and blues.

    The zing waves of searing heat dissipated into the suddenly crisp and cool air. And the four rampaging dragons, found themselves abruptly robbed of their voices and their fire and could only crouch mutely on the crumpled remains of their transport cages, craning their long necks to the sky as they howled soundlessly in confusion and despair.

    The Hungarian Horntail, however, was not intimidated so easily. Driven to reckless fury by the primal need to safeguard its unborn child, it ripped itself free of the final shreds of its half-melted prison.

    Spreading its vast wings, which extended thirty feet or more from tip to tip, the beast released onest defiant roar. The spines and bony protrusions on its hide shed like polished bronze in the starlight and flexing the ws of its hind legs, the Horntail snatched its sole remaining egg and flew into the sky with the egg clutched tightly to its chest.

    The dragon handlers cried out in horror and panic as they watched it flying into the darkness, knowing its escape could well mark the end of the Triwizard Tournament - and dozens of innocent lives.

    In unison, they drew their wands and sent torrents of suppressive spellsncing after it...but to no avail. The Hungarian Horntail was simply too far away and too fast and its magic-resistant hide was also too thick. Not a single spell found its mark, just flickered out of existence as they failed to connect with their target.

    In that dark moment, as all hope seemed lost, a deep rumbling began to build beneath the handlers'' feet. Cracks opened out through the scorched earth with the ground churning like a storm-tossed sea.

    And then, as if thend itself had finally been drained by the attacks inflicted upon it, the broken soil and shattered rock flowed together like water, merging into a mighty humanoid form.

    In the blink of an eye, a massive earthen golem over sixty to seventy feet tall, reaching to the sky appeared. The handlers gaped at this stone giant¡ªits outline was rough, and even the most unskilled sculptor could carve a more beautiful statue. But no one would doubt the power of this giant. As they looked at it, a primal fear gushed from the depths of their hearts.

    <strong>Whoosh¡ª</strong>The godlike giant stirred up gusts of wind with its movements.

    Extending one boulder-like hand towards the fleeing Hungarian Horntail, the golem wrapped its thick fingers around the dragon''s neck. With no more care than a farmer tossing a misbehaving chicken back into its coop, the giant tossed the thrashing, screeching dragon to the ground. The impact shook the forest for miles around, toppling many of the ancient trees that were near the clearing.

    Many towering ancient trees nearby that had escaped the ze painstakingly pulled out their roots from the ground. At some unspokenmand, they quickly walked over and surrounded the Hungarian Horntail. After a series ofplex transformations, a new rough enclosure appeared.

    The giant golem repeated the process, throwing the remaining three dragons inside as well. Then, like snow meeting sunlight, it melted away, returning its body to the earth.

    In the suddenly still and silent air, the only movement came from Bryan himself. He strolled around the edge of the living cage, asionally pausing to curl his wand as he muttered a list of protective spells and wards. "Protego Maxima. Silencio. Salvio Hexia. Repello Inimicum. Fianto Duri..."

    Fireproofing Wards, Anti-Flight Wards, Shield Charm, Silencing Charms.

    Charlie and the others watched woodenly as, within moments, Bryan single-handedly transfigured the crude wooden structure into an imprable, magic-warded vault.

    Having done all this, Bryan turned back to the others with a warm smile, casually brushing a few flecks of dirt from the sleeve of his robes.

    "Well!" he said brightly, as if discussing nothing more remarkable than the evening''s dinner menu. "That was a bit of wee exercise. Nothing like some vigorous spellcasting to make one feel properly awake and restored after a long journey."

    He stretchedzily, breathing deep of the crisp night air as if savoring the bouquet of a fine wine. Then, staring distractedly in the direction of the distant Hogwarts castle, he gave a small nod of satisfaction.

    "Oh, at this distance¡­it probably won''t draw much attention¡ª" He muttered smiling calmly at Charlie. "Probably won''t attract a crowd of teachers like back then."

    Looking at Bryan stretching his shoulders, Charlie clenched his fists,pletely speechless.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0555 Meetings

    0555 Meetings

    Four massive, fierce-looking adult dragons were abruptly thrown into the sturdy wooden enclosure by Bryan. These magnificent beasts were notoriously difficult to tame, especially during their unique and sensitive eggying period when their powerful maternal instincts caused them to almostpletely lose their natural aversion to danger.

    Despite having just witnessed a humbling demonstration of their own rtive powerlessness against Bryan, the dragons still boldly threw wild tantrums inside the confines of the enclosure, thrashing about with reckless abandon.

    Bryan''s unwee presence seemed to prevent the dragons from calming down, and the potent wards and enchantments woven into the boards of the enclosure rendered the dragons unable to unleash their trademark fire breath or take flight to escape.

    However, the ill-tempered Hungarian Horntail,rgest and most aggressive of the four, refused to stop seeking even the tiniest chance at breaking free from captivity. It repeatedly rammed its hide against the magically reinforced boards with thunderous force, only to be repelled each time by the faint but solid magical glow emanating from the wood. But the Horntail did not give up, and continued its futile assault, sending tremors through the ground with each ferocious impact.

    The smaller but more agile Welsh Green dragon took a different approach, flexibly climbing the vertical boards of the enclosure, but to no avail - its razor-sharp ws, capable of tearing flesh from bone, could not hook in the unnaturally smooth and magically hardened wood.

    The crafty Swedish Short-Snout, demonstrating the keen intellect representative of its species, instinctively sought to burrow deep into the earth and tunnel its way to freedom far beneath the walls that imprisoned it.

    This clever tactic did not go unnoticed by Bryan, who quickly cast an additional strengthening enchantment upon the ground itself, rendering it as imprable as the boards above.

    Only the Chinese Fireball, smallest of the four dragons, was calm. It protectively hid its egg beneath the crimson scales of its belly and simply observed the desperate escape attempts of its enragedpanions with fiery eyes.

    When the Fireball saw that no method was effective against their magical prison, it reluctantlyy down on the crammed earth, keeping its fierce, eyes pointed directly at Bryan with equal parts caution and resentment.

    Though the immediate danger posed by the dragons'' wrath had been temporarily quelled, the dragon handlers dared not let their guard down for even a moment. They focused their efforts on trying to pacify and soothe the three noisier dragons into a more subdued state.

    "I strongly suggest you keep your distance from these dragons for the duration of the tournament, Bryan," Charlie warned between deep breaths as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He stared at Bryan with a look of deep displeasure - and for good reason.

    Charlie''s sincere love and respect for dragons was the driving force behind his decision to decline an offer to join a somewhat famous professional Quidditch team upon graduating Hogwarts. To Charlie, the thought of harming, let alone killing, an innocent wild dragon was utterly unthinkable and hateful.

    "If you don''t heed my advice, those poor Triwizard Champions are going to be in for a world of pain and misery when they face these mother dragons," Charlie said gravely.

    "Doesn''t that just make the First Task that much more exciting and challenging?" Bryan replied with a smile.

    Charlie slowly shook his head in exasperation and disbelief. " I really don''t understand what you''re thinking. If your goal was simply to have the Champions tangle with some dragons, there was absolutely no need to deliberately seek out nesting mothers, of all things!"

    Charlie''s expression darkened as a new worry entered his mind. "I daren''t even tell my mother what you have in store for the Champions, Bryan. Mum hasn''t exactly been your biggest fan as ofte, and if I were to let slip that you''ve brought up savage mother dragons for the First Task, she would definitely have even stronger opinions about you."

    "By ''your mother,'' I take it you mean Mrs. Weasley?" Bryan inquired, his piercing gaze shifting away from the dragon enclosure to focus on Charlie''s freckled face as he processed this unexpected revtion. He felt a little strange about what Charlie said. "That''s rather odd... what could I have possibly done to offend her to such a degree?"

    Charlie gave Bryan a rueful smile tinged with a touch of sympathy. "Mum is outraged that you and Professor Dumbledore thought it was even remotely eptable to allow Hermione to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. After she read Rita Skeeter''s report in the Daily Prophet¡ª!"

    Charlie shifted his posture and voice, imitating his mother''s indignant tone: "Oh for Merlin''s sake, what in the world were Albus and Bryan thinking, letting poor Hermione represent the underage students? This isn''t something that can be done just by having good grades!"

    At this, Bryan couldn''t help but let out a heartyugh in spite of the direness of the situation.

    After a few more minutes of conversation, Charlie told that in order to keep the dragons sufficiently calm during the long journey to Hogwarts, he and his fellow handlers were forced to feed them withrge amounts of sleeping potion on a daily basis.

    Unfortunately, they had underestimated how much potion would be required, and as a result, they had no choice but to make the dragons travel day and night without rest to avoid the risk of the dragons awakening in a crowded area. This necessary rush was the reason they arrived at the school earlier than Bryan had anticipated.

    Despite the dragon handlers'' heroic efforts and years of experience, they simply could not calm the agitated dragons. Abandoning their ultimately futile attempts, the handlers settled for ring resentfully at Bryan, silently ming him for their distress - not that any of them had the nerve to tell the renowned Bryan Watson to leave.

    Thankfully, Bryan was sensible enough to realize that his presence was less than wee, by human and dragon both.

    "I think it''s safe to say these magnificent beasts won''t be going anywhere, Charlie," Bryan said with an easy smile. "What do you say to joining me for a drink back at the castle? Think of it as an official ''wee to Hogwarts'' from yours truly!"

    "I appreciate the offer, Bryan, I really do," Charlie began, clearly tempted by the thought of a drink, "but I''m afraid I have to decline. My team and I need to do everything we can to help the dragons adapt to their new environment as quickly as possible. I''m afraid it''s going to be a long camping trip for us out here in the forest until the First Task officially begins."

    Charlie thought for a moment, then added, "I actually sent an owl to Hagrid a while back about our arrival. We''re counting on him to keep us well supplied while we''re out here. Although,e to think of it..."

    Charlie warily scanned the shadowy tree line that marked the boundary of the Forbidden Forest before continuing in a hushed tone, "I was so certain that Hagrid would have been the first friendly face to greet us when we got here. You know as well as I do how much Hagrid adores dragons - the man even entrusted me with caring for an infant dragon he''d been secretly raising before sending it off to the preserve!"

    "Oh, you don''t need to worry about Hagrid," Bryan said with a knowing grin, turning to face a particrly dense patch of bushes. "He''s been here for quite some time, actually."

    <strong>Rustle¡ª</strong>

    As if on cue, the lush bush behind Bryan rustled and shifted as something truly enormous forced its way into the clearing.

    "Yeh always were a sharp one, Professor Watson," chuckled the unmistakable voice of Hagrid as he emerged from the bushes with Fang trotting along beside him.

    "Hagrid, it''s great to see you!" Charlie eximed, his eyes wide with pleased surprise. His brows then furrowed as he took in the sight of the frightened house elf apanying Hagrid, trembling like a leaf before the dragons.

    "Hang on a second... Hagrid, you brought a Hogwarts house elf out here with you? You know full well we''re under strict orders to keep the Tournament taskspletely under wraps," Charlie said, his voice colored with disapproval as he shot a meaningful nce at Bryan.

    "Aw c''mon Charlie, wha''s the harm? The little fe''s been a huge help ter me, and it ain''t like I could jus'' refuse when he asked ter tag along! B''sides, who wouldn''t want ter get a look at these beauties?" Hagrid said dismissively, walking over to the sturdy fence of the enclosure and gazing lovingly at the four captive dragons.

    "Magnificent creatures," Hagrid murmured, "simply magnificent..."

    Charlie shook his head, equal parts amused and exasperated by Hagrid''s attitude and characteristic dragon obsession. Changing tactics, Charlie fixed Hagrid with a serious stare and asked, "At the very least, please tell me no one else followed you here?"

    Hagrid abruptly tore his captivated gaze away from the dragons and began to fidget, his massive frame shifting guiltily. With eyes fixed upon the dragons, Hagrid mumbled, "O'' course not Charlie, I was real careful the whole way ''ere, yeh got my word on that."

    "Yes, I''m sure you were as stealthy as a half-giant could possibly be," Bryan murmured wryly, the corner of his mouth twitching as he resisted the urge tough.

    Bryan knew full well that there were two other trespassers lurking behind the very bushes Hagrid had just bumbled through. He couldn''t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Madame Maxime, Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy and Hagrid''s not-so-secretpanion.

    She was currently twisted into what appeared to be a very ufortable position as she attempted to conceal her towering body behind the inadequate cover of the waist-high bushes.

    Of course, Hermione wasn''t faring much better in her own hiding spot. Though she had the foresight to don the invisibility cloak before sneaking out to the forbidden forest, her nerves were threatening to give her away. Even at a distance of thirty feet, Bryan swore he could hear the poor girl''s heart beating like a frightened rabbit''s. She was probably on the verge of a breakdown from anxiety.

    Needless to say, Karkaroff, who was farther away and had even climbed a tree to get a clear view of what was happening inside, was no better.

    As he took in theughable sight of supposedly respected academic authority figures lurking like naughty schoolchildren, Bryan had to admit that the Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang certainly couldn''t be used of not doing everything in their power to give their respective Champions an edge in the Triwizard Tournament. And of course, Hagrid''s contribution was indispensable.

    Coming back to the moment at hand, Bryan heard Charlie repeat to Hagrid the vital importance of having enough meat on hand to keep the irritable dragons well fed before sunrise, since they had spent the majority of their journey in a charmed sleep and would surely be hungry upon waking.

    Bryan, keenly aware that his continued presence would only make an already absurd situation even more awkward for certain parties, made his own polite excuses and turned to leave. As he did, Bryan just managed to glimpse Hermione, still concealed beneath her invisibility cloak, carefully removing herself from her hiding ce as quiet as a mouse.

    From what little Bryan knew of Hermione''s character, and given her close friendship with Hagrid, Bryan guessed that Hermione had also assumed - quite correctly - that Hagrid would likely be spending the night with his beloved dragons.

    But Hermione still remembered that Harry was waiting for her in themon room. And so, after desperately taking onest look at the behemoths in the enclosure, Hermione didn''t disturb the focused Madame Maxime and quietly retreated¡ª

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0556 Strategies

    0556 Strategies

    Ever since that Halloween night when Hermione''s name had emerged from the Goblet of Fire, dering her as Hogwarts'' unprecedented second Triwizard Champion, a suffocating sense of panic, unease, and anxiety had been steadily building within her like a toxic miasma.

    Now, crouched behind a tangle of bushes deep in the heart of the Forbidden Forest and face to face with the terrifying reality of her daunting First Task, those dark emotions finally reached a crescendo, crashing over Hermione like a tidal wave as she stared in horror at the restless "behemoths." If it weren''t for Madame Maxime crouching just a few steps away, she might have screamed until she fainted.

    After Professor Watson left, Hermione quickly departed as well. With Harry anxiously awaiting her return in the Gryffindormon room and the possibility of an awkward encounter with Professor Watson in the Entrance Hall urging her on, Hermione bolted through the path Hagrid had led her at a frantic pace.

    In this mad dash, Hermione was immensely grateful for the countless grueling hours she''d spent training in Professor Watson''s physical education sses as they allowed her to ovee the vines and potholes along the way.

    As she emerged from the Forbidden Forest at the edge of the school grounds, Hermione donned the invisibility cloak once more. It was then that she realized her robes had been drenched by the dew during her trek through the forest. Outside the woods, the wind felt more real, and Hermione felt as if countless small knives were slicing through her body, cold and painful.

    It would have been the simplest thing for her to cast a quick Hot-Air Charm and dry herself off, a feat she could have aplished with ease as early as her second year. However, Hermione chose to keep her clothes damp, allowing herself to suffer a little. She didn''t know why she did this; perhaps the pain made her feel real.

    With every step that brought her closer to the weing torchlight spilling from the castle''s many windows, the fog of terror and adrenaline that had enveloped Hermione''s mind began to dissipate.

    The world came into sharper focus, no longer the hazy, unreal dreamscape it had been when she firstid eyes on the nightmarish dragons and subsequently fled through the forest. It was only then, as she climbed the staircases leading up from the Entrance Hall, that Hermione''s thoughts drifted back to Hagrid for some reason.

    After her close encounter with fully grown, nesting dragons, Hermione found herself marveling again at Hagrid''s seemingly insane desire to raise one of those deadly creatures as a pet. But even as she inwardly questioned his sanity and survival instincts, Hermione couldn''t help the swell of gratitude she felt toward Hagrid for the immense personal risk he''d taken in smuggling her and Madame Maxime out to the enclosure.

    She shuddered to think what might have happened if she''d been forced to confront the dragons for the first time on the day of the First Task, with no prior warning or mind makeup. Hermione was almost certain she would have fainted on the spot.

    Heart still pounding from her dash through the forest and subsequent crisis of emotion, Hermione found herself standing before the portrait of the Fat Lady far sooner than she''d anticipated. Taking a steadying breath, she tugged the invisibility cloak from her head and whispered the password.

    "Balderdash!"

    Even to her own ears, Hermione''s voice sounded choked, tight with barely suppressed nerves and exhaustion.

    For her part, the Fat Lady didn''t even bother to open her eyes, inly used to being woken up at odd hours by unruly Gryffindors.

    "If you say so..." she mumbled drowsily. With those words, the portrait swung open, revealing the entrance to the Gryffindormon room.

    Hermione climbed in, looking around, and then¡ª

    "Over here¡ª" Harry leaped up from the sofa in front of the firece, waving at her.

    The saying that pain makes one feel real was quite urate. As she neared the firece with its small mes, Hermione realized just how frozen she had been. She touched her face, feeling as though she could no longer control her expressions, and her longshes were covered in frost.

    Upon reaching the fireside and seeing the worrying state of Hermione, Harry wasted no time in grabbing the nearest bit of firewood - a bundle of dry pine branches stacked against the stone hearth - and tossing it into the mes. The wood immediately sent a riot of orange sparks gushing up the chimney, but the sudden influx of fuel also assisted to temporarily oppress the pre-existing fire.

    Clearly impatient for the ze to build back up to a proper heat, Harry drew his wand and conjured a dancing ball of blue-bell mes. These he directed into the firece with a flick of his wrist. By the time the firece was burning vigorously, Harry turned around to find that Hermione had already used her wand to dry herself.

    "Hermione," Harry began, fighting to keep the nervous tremor from his voice. "Tell me, what did you see out there? What are they going to make you face?"

    Harry barely restrained himself from physically grabbing Hermione''s shoulders and giving her a shake. After all, Hagrid hade to them only yesterday, secretly informing them that he would be taking them to see ''something'' tonight, and asked them to bring the invisibility cloak. However, considering that it would be more convenient for one person to move around while wearing the cloak, Harry had voluntarily given up the chance.

    Judging from Hermione''s expression, he could guess that what they would face in the first task definitely wouldn''t be something simply disgusting like Hagrid''s st-Ended Skrewts. He asked urgently.

    So, Hermione recounted everything she had seen tonight. She told Harry that Hagrid had not only taken her but also brought Madame Maxime. They had traversed the Forbidden Forest together, reaching a ce far from the castle. There, she saw Professor Watson, Charlie, and¡ª

    "Dragons." Hermione shivered slightly. Even though the firece was releasing waves of warmth, her fingertips remained pale and trembling.

    "There were four of them: A Welsh Green, a Swedish Short-Snout, a Chinese Fireball, and a Hungarian Horntail. I heard Charlie say their names when Hagrid asked."

    Harry was stunned as a suffocating silence suddenly descended.

    Ever since Krum had reminded them in the library that they could find inspiration from the tasks of past Triwizard Tournaments, Harry had apanied Hermione in sifting through numerous materials in the library. Privately, they had also discussed the possible dangerous magical creatures and dark creatures that might appear.

    Hermione, in particr, had suspended all her advanced studies during this period, focusing all her energy on searching for information.

    Harry particrly recalled Hermione mentioning dragons in passing several times over the course of their long hours of research. As she had pointed out, Dragons were far from the most mysterious of magical creatures, frequently cropping up in texts on everything from dragonhide gloves to the founding of Gringotts.

    At the time, Harry had mentally dismissed the possibility of dragons appearing in the tournament, unable to consider that any responsible adult would willingly put schoolchildren against these notoriously deadly creatures.

    But now, Harry and Hermione sat on the sofa by the firece, staring at each other in a heavy atmosphere.

    "They..." Harry''s throat tightened, and he felt his head buzzing. Thus, it wasn''t difficult for him to imagine Hermione''s current state of mind.

    "What do they expect you to do?" He spitted out. "What do they n to make the champions do? Fight the dragons and then either dismember the dragons or be dismembered by them?"

    Harry wanted to make a joke to help Hermione rx, but his joke was undoubtedly terrible because Hermione was one of the few people about to be dismembered.

    "Hagrid...he asked Charlie the same thing," Hermione wasn''t sure if she had caught a cold from being so chilled, but her head was starting to throb painfully, making her mind less sharp than usual.

    "Charlie doesn''t know either. The Ministry of Magic might not announce it until the start of thepetition. But Charlie said all the dragons brought in are nesting mothers¡ª"

    Harry pressed his lips tightly together, his face flushed and looking as if he were suffocating.

    <em>''Was there even a need to guess? Stealing the dragon eggs from these mother dragons was most likely what the champions would have to do!''</em>

    Harry had never seen what a nesting dragon would be like, but dragons themselves were already enough to make one feel despair.

    For a moment, Harry was forcibly reminded of the summer before his first year at Hogwarts. He had been present when his cousin Dudley''s best friend Piers brought over his new pet dog, a yappy little terrier that had recently given birth to a litter of pups.

    Dudley, in his typical pigheaded fashion, had ignored all warnings opposing and tried to take one of the puppies from its mother, resulting in him being bitten hard by the usually docile dog. Dudley had to get several stitches because of it.

    If that was how a thoroughly domesticated dog reacted to a seeming threat to its child, Harry shuddered to imagine the sheer murderous rage of a provoked mother dragon.

    Harry pulled his spiraling thoughts back to the present. Wallowing in dread would do nothing to help Hermione, he told himself firmly. The only way out was through, and the best thing he could do was buckle down and support her in any way he could.

    And so, over the next several days, Harry and Hermione practically took up residence in the library, leaving it only to attend sses and snatch a few precious hours of restless sleep. They dragged stacks of obscure tomes and books back to themon room, working by the light of the fire long into the night as they searched for any scrap of information that might give Hermione an edge against the dragon she would soon face.

    Late Wednesday evening found them once again fixed in their favorite overstuffed armchairs by the hearth, a disorganized pile of discarded books littering the rug at their feet.

    "How to Clip a Dragon''s ws," Harry read the discarded book''s title with a sarcastic snort. "Yeah, because clearly your biggest problem is going to be overgrown toenails. Merlin''s pants, who writes this stuff?"

    "Listen to this," He said frustrated, exhaustion tinging his tone as he read another from the chipped leather cover. "''Dragon Keeping: A Guide for the Dedicated Enthusiast.'' It''s got loads of details also on trimming their ws, treating scale rot, all sorts of mad rubbish. Brilliant if you''re Hagrid and trying to keep your pet dragon fit and healthy enough to bite your head off, but not exactly useful for staying alive against one."

    Harry tossed aside the book "''Dragon Keeping" he was holding, stuck his fingers under his eyes, and rubbed hard. Then, he picked up another book from the sofa, "One Hundred Spells for Facing Crises."

    "I''ve read that one. It''s useless, Harry¡ª" Hermione flipped through the pages with a rustling sound. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the book Harry was picking up andmented. Then, she muttered anxiously, "Right, there''s also the Switching Spell... But what use is switching? Unless you can turn its fangs into wine gums or something to make it less dangerous... The problem is, as the book says, few things can prate a dragon''s hide... Or should we transfigure it?

    But you definitely won''t seed in transfiguring such a huge creature. I doubt even Professor McGonagall could... Of course, if we had Professor Watson or Professor Dumbledore''s magical power... Oh, don''t dream about it, Hermione. You can''t do it!"

    Tonight, was even more exhausting than the previous nights, not only because of the umted fatigue but also because Professor Watson had put them through the training as usual during tonight''s physical education ss.

    Moreover, perhaps because they had made progress recently, Professor Watson''s methods had be increasingly brutal. He was simply merciless. Tonight, Harry had been impaled through the shoulder de by a stone spear conjured by Professor Watson. Perhaps he had developed a greater tolerance for pain, so he didn''t pass out from it, but Professor Watson immediately followed up with a Stunning Spell.

    Harry wondered if Professor Watson''s spear could pierce a dragon''s hide. He sat on the floor, looking up at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and this absurd thought popped into his mind. Then¡ª

    "Ah!" Harry leaped up from the floor, panting heavily, his green eyes shing with excitement as he stared intently at Hermione, who was stunned by his bizarre behavior.

    "Remember, Hermione, what Professor Watson told us!" Harry said, trying to contain his excitement.

    "What?" Hermione was still confused.

    "Dragons!" Harry grinned. "Professor Watson taught us how to deal with dragons in physical education ss. What did he say back then? I can''t remember clearly, but you definitely remember, right?"

    Gradually, the bewildered and resigned look in Hermione''s eyes brightened.

    <em>''Dealing with dragons.''</em>

    The boy hiding behind the wall on the boys'' spiral staircase heard these words, and the gloomy face in the shadows finally showed a hint of terror.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0557 Relief

    0557 Relief

    <em>"Auxiliary spells cannot be used to directly attack, but they can create obstacles for opponents and help oneself get out of trouble during a duel, producing unexpected effects. For example, if you are facing a vicious and fierce dragon, you certainly can''t defeat it.</em>

    <em>But you could use io charm to call nearby objects that might aid in escape or defense. Use Disillusionment charm to hide in the surroundings, A well-cast Fire-Extinguishing Charm could neutralize Dragon''s me-breath. Finally, a targeted Conjunctivitis Curse could temporarily blind it, drastically reducing its ability to locate and attack you."</em>

    Remembering Professor Watson''s words, Hermione, like Harry, jumped up with excitement, her body trembling with exhration. Just as Harry had imagined, Hermione had written down everything Professor Watson said in ss, also memorizing it word for word!

    "This," Hermione eximed breathlessly, her voice quivering with emotion, "This is Professor Watson''s reminder to all the champions. He told us long ago that the chosen champions would likely emerge from among the students of his physical education ss!"

    Harry hadn''t felt such a surge of excitement and anticipation since the moment Hermione''s name had been pulled from the Goblet of Fire.

    "The Disillusionment Charm, Fire Extinguishing Charms, spells to blind the dragon''s vision..." He turned to Hermione, his eyes burning with eager curiosity. "How do we do that, Hermione?"

    "There''s a spell called the Conjunctivitis Curse," Hermione''s cheeks were flushed red by the firelight, and there were also tears shining in her eyes. It was as if a prisoner sentenced to death had received salvation before their execution.

    "I know all these spells!" Hermione was so moved that her eyes turned red. "Professor Watson is such a good person!"

    "I thought he would choose to stand by and watch. I didn''t expect this!"

    Harry shook his head in wonder.

    They shared a moment of gleefulughter, the tension and fear of the past weeks momentarily forgotten in their newfound optimism.

    "Well then," Harry said, pping his hands together. "Sounds like you just need to review more before the tournament starts and make sure you don''t forget any of the spells, right?"

    Hermione nodded, a flicker of doubt still lingering in the depths of her mind. But in this instant, she was like a drowning sailor clinging to a lifeline, desperate to hold tight to this glimmer of salvation. She refused to give up her grip on this fragile hope, and forcibly pushed aside any doubts that threatened to take root.

    As the initial wave of euphoria began to recede, an all-consuming exhaustion settled upon them.

    The unrelenting stress and pressure of the past days had taken their toll, yet they had no chance to rest their weary minds and bodies as they scoured every book for some way to keep Hermione safe from the dragon''s fangs. But now, with this small beacon of hope illuminating their path forward, the adrenaline that had sustained them drained away, leaving only bone-deep fatigue in its trail.

    Drowsily, they gathered up the scattered notes scattered randomly around themon room. In a daze, they shoved the papers into their bookbags, reason winning out over the temptation to simply kick the whole lot into the cheery ze crackling in the firece. Feet dragging and limbs heavy, they bid each other a mumbled goodnight and stumbled off to their respective dormitories, desperate for the sweet sleep.

    Harry ascended the stone steps to his dormitory, but found himself hesitating outside the closed door, one hand resting on the brass knob.

    The dormitory was pitch dark, and Harry could hear Neville''s snoring from outside the door. During this period of physical education sses, Neville had been very unhappy in their team. He seemed to havepletely lost his previous agility when practicing with Dungbombs and became as clumsy as in other sses.

    Where the problem lied was not difficult to guess. Neville''s talent in spells was reallycking, which also affected his original advantages. But this was not the problem Harry was considering.

    The door of the dormitory was open, and the wind in the corridor was blowing into the dormitory, continuously bringing in the cold.

    Did they forget to close the door, or... was someone just like him, not in their four-poster bed?

    With doubts in his mind, Harry quietly walked in.

    Everyone was in their own bed, including the person in the dormitory who wasn''t talking to him now. Harry sighed but didn''t know why he felt disappointed.

    With a mix of relief and regret churning in his gut, Harry copsed onto his bed fully clothed, not even bothering to take off his trainers.

    As his eyelids drooped closed, one final thought chased itself round and round his exhausted brain: If Ron knew about these things in the Tournament, knew that Hermione and the other three champions werepeting to see who could survive longer under the dragon''s mouth, what would he say? would he, could he still be so concerned with petty things like pride and glory?

    Morning came all too soon, watery November sunlight stealing through a gap in the curtains to stab at Harry''s gritty, aching eyes.

    Thursday - double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs was first thing, Harry reminded himself blearily as he dragged his sluggish, protesting body out of bed. Perhaps some fresh air would shake the cobwebs from his brain.

    As he swayed into Greenhouse Three, it seemed that, at longst, the ''Puffs hade to terms with the inevitable truth - that Hermione would be representing Hogwarts in the Tournament, chosen as she had been by the Goblet.

    The open hostility of weeks past had faded, reced by a sort of grudging eptance. This change in perception also made them no longer keen on making faces in ss. Among them, those who participated in Professor Watson''s dueling ss, such as Hannah, Finch-Fletchley, and Macmin, unexpectedly found some sense of honor in Hermione.

    Feeling this change, the burden on Hermione''s mind was finally lifted a bit more. But what she didn''t understand was that when she was squeezing pus for Professor Sprout''s newly grown batch of bubotuber, she could always feel Ron, who was separated from her by a few people, peeping at her.

    After that conflict, Harry and Hermione listened to Hagrid''s advice and decided to calm down for the time being and not touch each other''s sensitive rtionships. Ron maintained a high degree of tacit understanding with the two of them and generally wouldn''t take the initiative to make eye contact with them. Could it be...

    Hermione stopped her hand movements and looked at Ron, her eyes faintly revealing expectation. She hoped that Ron could take the initiative to say something to Harry or herself.

    However, Ron also seemed to notice that Hermione was observing him. He never looked up again and focused on dealing with the not-so-small tuber with Seamus.

    "Hiss¡ª"

    Hermione felt a sense of loss in her heart and didn''t notice a drop of high-concentration yellowish-green pus sliding into her wrist along the protective glove. The corrosiveness of the pus immediately made Hermione''s face turn pale.

    "Did you hurt yourself, dear?"

    Professor Sprout maintained a high level of vignce. She immediately ran over to check the situation, and Harry also nervously brought his head over.

    "Sorry, Professor, I just..." Hermione gasped, "was careless¡ª"

    Up to now, the number of students who had tasted the fierceness of bubotuber pus had reached double digits, but Professor Sprout still showed unusual concern for her.

    Hermione spected that this might be because Professor Sprout was well aware of Hufflepuff''s unfriendly attitude when she had just be a champion, including herself. In the first few days, her attitude was also slightly cold. She might have felt a bit of remorse, so she proposed to personally help her treat the injury.

    After the ss ended, the students left one after another. In the greenhouse, only Harry was waiting for Professor Sprout to use a kind of potion to treat the scorch marks on Hermione''s wrist.

    However, at this moment, Ron, who had already left, suddenly returned to the greenhouse again.

    It was Ron.

    "Ahem¡ª"

    Perhaps because Harry and Hermione''s surprised looks were too obvious, Ron looked a bit embarrassed. But in any case, he still walked over under the pressure in his heart. When he got close, he quickly nced at Hermione''s wrist, and moved his lips.

    "What?"

    Harry didn''t hear clearly what Ron was saying, and he asked in astonishment.

    "Krum¡ª"

    Ron took a deep breath and pointed to the door with his body.

    "Krum is outside. He wants to see you¡ª" Ron''s eyes pointed at Hermione, his expression a bit unnatural. "I asked him what was the matter, but he didn''t want to say. He said he just wanted to chat with you alone¡ª"

    Harry and Hermione looked at each other, both clearly understanding that what each of them was surprised about was definitely not just Krum alone.

    "Well, that''s it¡ª"

    Although he was also confused and uneasy about Krum approaching Hermione, it seemed that saying these words had used up all of Ron''s courage. He slowly retreated. When he reached a certain distance, he quickly turned around and elerated his pace, running out of the greenhouse.

    "Done¡ª"

    Professor Sprout spoke in a timely manner. She threw the cotton swab used to apply medicine to Hermione''s wound into the trash can, without any intention to inquire about what important matter the Durmstrang champion needed to discuss with one of the Hogwarts champions before the start of thepetition.

    When Harry and Hermione walked out of the greenhouse, they immediately saw Krum standing there alone waiting. Some Durmstrang students were waiting for Krum farther away. They should be taking Hagrid''s ss with Ravenw today.

    "Be careful, Hermione¡ª"

    After encountering Snape and Karkaroff''s secret meeting, Harry regained his vignce towards Krum. He lowered his voice and said,

    "Maybe Karkaroff didn''t get any useful information from Snape, so he sent Krum to try his luck with you."

    This kind of guess was not impossible. But in any case, Hermione had to go and see the situation.

    Harry originally thought they would chat for a long time, but just two minutester, Krum ran to find his ssmates, while Hermione walked back with a strange expression on her face.

    "What''s the matter?" Harry immediately stepped forward and asked nervously, "Did he want to pry task information from you? You didn''t tell him, right?"

    Hermione''s face was full of confusion. She responded to Harry''s gaze and was silent for a full half minute before speaking,

    "Quite the opposite, Harry¡ª"

    Hermione took a deep breath and looked at the group of Durmstrang people heading to the Great Hall.

    "He came to warn me that what we will face in the first task is dragons... But how did he know? That night, only Beauxbatons'' headmistress and I were with Hagrid, right?"

    "But why would he warn you!"

    After a moment of silence, Harry, who had his mouth wide open for a long time, pointed out another question worth pondering!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

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    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 0558 Extra Task

    0558 Extra Task

    In the end, despite their best efforts and hours of discussion, neither Harry nor Hermione could figure out why Krum had revealed the first task of the Triwizard Tournament to Hermione. This was no ordinary piece of information - it was a crucial advantage that whoever possessed would surely gain a significant edge in thepetition, potentially even securing the championship title for themselves.

    Even Hermione herself had never once considered divulging the fact that the champions would have to face dragons to any of the other threepetitors.

    That being said, one burning question remained unanswered - did Krum generously share this information with everyone, or just Hermione alone? And perhaps even more intriguingly, where and from whom did he manage to learn this top-secret in the first ce?

    That night in the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid had only brought her and Madame Maxime. Professor Karkaroff hadn''t tagged along. Harry and Hermione discussed this issue for a long time, and the only possibility they could think of was that Snape, by virtue of his rtionship with Professor Watson, had helped Karkaroff find out about this matter.

    This spective guess immediately caused Harry''s already low opinion of Snape to plummet to new deep depths. During the Potions ss on Friday morning, Harry found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Snape, his stare was filled with undisguised hatred and loathing.

    And Snape undoubtedly sensed the waves of disgust radiating off him.

    In the span of just one short, miserable hour, Gryffindor''s hourss, which recorded the House points, suffered a catastrophic blow.

    Snape, his face twisted in a vindictive sneer, racked his mind to find any excuse to viciously deduct points from Harry. By the end of the ss, Gryffindor had lost nearly forty precious points, causing the gryffindor students to groan in despair.

    Harry left, kicking over his stool as soon as the ss ended, before Snape could deduct more points.

    "I''m going to find Professor Moody!" When he met Hermione in the Entrance Hall, he said grumpily, "I''ll tell him everything - how the Durmstrang champion cheated and peeked at the tournament task. Moody will finally have the clear evidence he needs to kick that greasy git Snape out of this school for good!"

    "No, Harry, you can''t!" Hermione cried out nervously, her bushy hair flying as she shook her head fervently. "Think about it - if Snape is expelled from Hogwarts because of this, Hagrid will likely be punished severely as well for his role in showing us the dragons!"

    Harry froze, the realization hitting him like a bolt of lightning. He exhaled sharply, his breath catching in his throat, before hurrying up the staircase with his head bowed.

    The final ss of the morning was Professor Watson''s Physical Education ss. This ss time originally belonged to Snape, but Professor Watson had fought for it from him(<em>ording to the students</em>).

    However, due to theplex coordinating of schedules, the participating students did not always arrive in an orderly manner. By the time Harry and the others reached the ssroom, panting slightly from their rapid ascent, only about half of their ssmates had managed to trickle in.

    At this point in the term, the eager young wizards were well-versed in the unique routines of this particr ss. Before the lesson began, everyone hastily removed their cumbersome schoolbags and robes into a haphazard pile in the corner of the room. They then began to enthusiastically stretch out their stiff limbs, preparing their bodies for the inevitable dodging and quick movements toe.

    Harry and Hermione rapidly joined their ssmates, their worries temporarily forgotten as they focused on the task at hand.

    Meanwhile, Bryan was still busy writing back to those who had applied to watch thepetition. He had to finalize the spectators list today.

    Many people, caught up in the infectious excitement, may focus solely on the champions'' awe-inspiring performances in the tournament. However, for dedicated individuals like Bryan who worked tirelessly behind the scenes, the Triwizard Tournament is far moreplex than it may initially appear.

    It is a grand, glorious affair, like avish banquet, providing a rare and valuable tform for exchange andmunication among the members of the European wizarding world.

    About ten minutester, the students finally all arrived. Bryan stuffed the letter into an envelope and handed it to a school owl perched on the windowsill. Turning around, he found the students observing him with slightly awed eyes.

    "What''s the matter?" Bryan asked in surprise, raising his eyebrows and asking Astoria, who was closest to him.

    The girl hesitated for a brief moment, carefully considering her words before responding cautiously, "Forgive me for asking, Professor, but did you perhaps encounter some trouble earlier? It''s just that you seem to be in a rather serious mood today..."

    "Ah, I see," Bryan chuckled good-naturedly as the other students nodded in agreement, their curiosity piqued. "Well, if you must know, the Board of Governors rejected my perfectly reasonable request for a pay raise. I''m half-tempted to tell them to sod off so I can just pay myself what I''m worth!"

    A wave ofughter rippled through the ssroom. Even Harry, who had been trying to hold back his lingering anger towards Snape, couldn''t help but allow the corners of his mouth to twitch upwards in a small smile.

    Bryan, still grinning, circled out from behind his desk and perched himself casually on the polished edge of the sturdy table, and began to take attendance. After confirming everyone was present, he looked at them all with a smile.

    "Now then, before we begin today''s lesson, I have an important announcement to make. Due to the significant impact of the uing Triwizard Tournament, I must regrettably inform you that our Physical Education sses will be temporarily suspended next week. But we will resume our regr schedule the following week."

    The students were not particrly surprised by this. The first task of the tournament was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon, and P.E. ss was on Wednesday evening. As long as Professor Watson had a conscience, he shouldn''t make theme to ss at a time when they should be eagerly discussing or celebrating with their ssmates.

    "--Also, all P.E. students, except for Cedric Diggory and Hermione Granger, will have their Wednesday morning sses cancelled. I''ve already notified your respective Heads of Houses--"

    Bryan said with a grin, getting the surprised looks he wanted on the young wizards'' faces. "I have an extra task for you--"

    "What is it, Professor?" Ernie Macmin blurted out, his eyes shining with barely contained eagerness.

    "Well--" Bryan pped his hands, beckoning all the students to him. Facing the excited and curious faces, he said with a smile:

    "I think there''s hardly anyone who doesn''t know about the terrorist attack at the Quidditch World Cup this summer. That attack had far-reaching and devastating consequences, with countless innocent lives tragically lost in the chaos.

    Now, as I''m sure you''re all keenly aware, the Triwizard Tournament is another grand event that attracts immense attention from the wizarding world atrge. I''ve discussed with Headmaster Dumbledore before - if some daring dark wizards really try to attack the spectators whoe to watch--"

    The sharper students, their minds racing to connect the dots, had already begun to piece together where Professor Watson''s train of thought was leading. They leaned forward in their seats, hanging on his every word, their hearts pounding with anticipation.

    "Normally, we should request some support from the Ministry of Magic and have them send some Hit Wizards for guard duty, but I think this is a rare opportunity--"

    Bryan cleared his throat and finally stopped tantalizing them.

    "I need a dedicated and capable group of volunteers to arrive early at Hogsmeade Station next Wednesday morning. Your mission, should you choose to ept it, will be to warmly wee the distinguished guests arriving via the Hogwarts Express. You will then escort them to the castle grounds ording to your dueling practice teams. After everyone arrives, from the start of thepetition until the end, you''ll also need to perform the task of maintaining order on-site."

    The room was silent, with no students speaking. Bryan could only see pairs of eyes brewing with excitement.

    "What?" Bryan deliberately frowned. "And here I thought this would be a grand opportunity for you all to showcase your skills and represent Hogwarts on the international stage. But if you''re unwilling--"

    "No, Professor! We''re absolutely willing!" Fred and George chorused in unison.

    Carrying out a mission, my god, how cool that sounded!

    Angelina Johnson raised her hand tentatively, her voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as she asked, "Professor Watson, do you truly believe that we possess the necessary skills to handle a potential terrorist attack? I mean, are we really prepared for such a task?"

    "Oh, of course, I''ve seen your rapid progress with my own eyes--" Bryan said with a grin.

    "That being said," He continued, holding up a hand to stop any further questions, "I must stress that I personally believe the likelihood of an actual terrorist attack urring during the tournament is quite low. In all honesty, the most significant challenges you may face are likely to be the early morning wake-up call and the brisk autumn chill.

    However, this does not diminish the importance of your role in the slightest. By taking on this responsibility, you are demonstrating to the entire European wizardingmunity that Hogwarts stands united, that we are fullymitted to ensuring the sess and safety of this historic event."

    As Professor Watson''s words washed over them, the students began to sit up straighter in their seats, their chests swelling with pride at the thought of representing their school on such a grand stage.

    <em>''This sounded much more interesting than wrestling with dragons, and more meaningful too--''</em> Hermione pressed her lips together, looking resentful.

    "Now, I must warn you," Bryan continued, his tone growing more serious, "that this job will require a great deal of preparation and training. I mean, you can''t appear amateurish or undisciplined in the eyes of our guests. Loose postures, nervous giggles, and sloppy wandwork simply will not do.

    From this moment onward, including the uing weekend, we will be having an intensive emergency training sessions. You will learn about crowd control, basic security protocols, and how to maintain a vignt watch without appearing tantly aggressive. I trust that none of you have any objections to this additionalmitment?"

    <em>''How could anyone possibly object?''</em> The students'' eyes sparkled with unrestrained eagerness, their hearts racing at the thought of ying such a vital role in the tournament. Even those who had initially harbored doubts found themselves swept up in the infectious wave of enthusiasm that had gripped the ssroom.

    And this was such an interesting thing. Although they weren''t champions, maybe they could also make an appearance at the Triwizard Tournament!

    "Excellent!" Bryan pped his hands together. "Time is of the essence, so let us begin our training!"

    With a knowing smile, Bryan turned his attention to Cedric and Hermione, who stood somewhat awkwardly at the edge of the group, their expressions a mixture of disappointment and resignation.

    "As for you, Mr. Diggory and Miss Granger," Bryan said, his voice tinged with sympathy, "I''m afraid there is little for you to contribute. Your focus must remain solely on preparing for the challenges that await you in the tournament. You have my permission to take your leave and attend to your own affairs."

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0559 Anxiety

    0559 Anxiety

    "The first train to Hogwarts is scheduled to arrive at precisely 8:10 am next Wednesday morning. I need each and every one of you to gather at the school gate noter than 6:30 am sharp. From there, you will make your way to Hogsmeade Station, ensuring that you arrive before 7:30 am. Time is of the essence, and punctuality is very important."

    He paused for a moment, allowing his words to sink in as he surveyed the sea of eager faces before him.

    "The school has prepared twenty carriages to transport this initial batch of guests, it will be your duty to apany these carriages, ensuring the safety andfort of our visitors. Upon arrival at the castle grounds, half of you will immediately return to Hogsmeade Station to await the next influx of guests, while the remaining half will guide those who have already arrived, arranging their seating with the utmost care and attention to detail."

    He reached into his robes, showing a neatly folded piece of parchment. "I will provide you with aprehensive guest list in advance."

    <strong>Thud!</strong>

    The heavy wooden door to the physical education ssroom swung shut with a resounding thud, the sound reverberating through the empty corridor. Hermione and Cedric found themselves abruptly locked outside, their faces etched with a mixture of disappointment and resignation.

    However, rather than immediately taking their leave, the pair lingered by the door, their ears pressed against the door as they tried to catch the muffled remnants of Professor Watson''s voice drifting out sporadically from inside.

    Minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity as Hermione and Cedric stood in silence, their bodies tense with anticipation. Finally, after about ten minutes, the sound of scattered footsteps came from the ssroom, signaling the end of the meeting. Only then did the two of them reluctantly remove their ears from the door, stepping back and facing each other with an air of awkward uncertainty.

    "Ahem¡ª" Cedric cleared his throat, his gaze falling upon Hermione, who stood a full head shorter than him. His expression was slightly unnatural with a mix of nervousness and hesitation appearing across his facial features.

    In fact, when Cedric had first been chosen as a champion, his heart had soared with excitement, the prospect of glory and fame filled him with an intoxicating sense of purpose. However, as the date of thepetition drew nearer, that initial ecstasy had gradually faded, reced by a gnawing panic and an all-consuming anxiety.

    To the outside world, being a champion was an honor beyond measure, a title to be coveted and celebrated. But only the champions themselves truly understood the precarious nature of their position, the razor-thin line that separated fame from bing aughingstock in the eyes of the wizarding world.

    As his mentality shifted, Cedric''s slight dissatisfaction with Hermione''s unexpected selection as a fellow champion vanished, reced by a deep sense of empathy. He knew all too well the immense pressure that this young girl faced, a burden that far exceeded even his own.

    At least no one questioned his legitimacy as a champion, nor did they secretly harbor ulterior motives and tried to put his life at risk for the sake of some hidden agenda.

    "I was nning to head down to the Great Hall for dinner," Cedric said, his voice soft and friendly as he gave Hermione a warm smile. "What about you?"

    Hermione could easily see that Cedric wanted to talk to her, which surprised her a little.

    She and Cedric had never had any real connection beyond theirmon participation in the physical education ss. If not for that singlemonality, she doubted they would have ever exchanged more than a passing greeting in Hogwarts.

    Of course, Hermione was well aware of Cedric''s poprity among the girls at school Yet, despite his status as one of the most sought-after boys, Cedric''s private life was not chaotic. His single-minded pursuit of Ravenw''s Cho Chang wasmon knowledge among the girls.

    "I was nning to wait here for a bit," Hermione began, her voice trailing off after a sudden change of heart. "Actually, on second thought, I think I''ll head down too."

    And so, the two champions set off together, their footsteps echoing softly through the deserted corridors as they made their way towards the grand staircase that would lead them to the Great Hall.

    Out of some kind of tacit understanding, Hermione and Cedric didn''t walk quickly. They were almost strolling through the corridor.

    "How are you feeling?" Cedric asked abruptly, his voice cutting through the stillness as they passed beneath an archway. His footsteps paused, and he turned to face Hermione, "I mean, about next week''s task. Do you have any ideas? Any strategies in mind?"

    He paused, a sudden realization washing over him as he saw the flicker of surprise in Hermione''s eyes.

    "Oh, please don''t misunderstand me," He hastened to add, his hands raised in a pacifying gesture. "I''m not trying to pry into your ns. I was just...curious. Wondering if you were as nervous as I am."

    Hermione stared at Cedric thoughtfully. Just as he had sensed the immense pressure that weighed upon her shoulders, she too could see the toll that the tournament had taken on him. They were few days away from making their appearance on the international stage where their every move would be scrutinized by the entire European wizarding world. The slightest misstep, the smallest error in judgment, could spell disaster not only for themselves but for the reputation of Hogwarts as a whole.

    And then, like a bolt of lightning, a sudden realization struck Hermione. She and Cedric were not justpetitors but were also bound together in thepetition.

    The decision to bind their fates together had been made by Barty Crouch as a concession to appease Karkaroff and Durmstrang.

    Hermione had not forgotten this fact, but in the whirlwind of activity that had consumed her life since that moment, it had been pushed to the back of her mind.

    Lost in thought, Hermione remained silent, her eyes became distant as she pondered. Cedric, misinterpreting herck of response, let out a heavy sigh, and a hint of bitterness crept into his voice as he spoke.

    "You''re worried too, aren''t you?" He said, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his own doubts. "Worried that we might not be able to pass the first task, that we''ll let everyone down. My parents, they''ve been writing to me constantly, telling me how proud they are, how they''ve been boasting to all our rtives that their son is going to represent Hogwarts in the tournament.

    It feels amazing, knowing that they have so much faith in me. But at the same time, it''s terrifying. What if I''m not good enough? What if I fail? They''ll be so disappointed..."

    He trailed off, his eyes searching Hermione''s face for any sign of understanding, any indication that she shared his fears.

    "What about you? ¡­...What do your family think about all of this?"

    Hermione knew that Cedric wanted to say more than just his family''s opinion. The pressure they faced came from all sides.

    "My parents are Muggles," she said quietly, a pang of guilt twisting in her chest. "They don''t really understand what the Triwizard Tournament is, or what it means."

    Actually, Hermione had no intention of ever informing her parents of her participation in the tournament. That''s why she still hadn''t written to them about this matter. If they knew their beloved daughter was about to fight a dragon that only appeared in movies, they might rush to Hogwarts overnight to take her back home.

    "That must be nice," Cedric murmured with a pensive note in his voice as Cho Chang''s figure appeared in his mind.

    Embarrassing his parents in front of colleagues and rtives, and losing face in front of the girl he fancied¡ªneither was what he wanted.

    But he had no way to back out, right? His identity as a champion was the pride of so many people. Hufflepuff House practically regarded him as their banner.

    Hermione looked at Cedric''s mncholy face, a hint of doubt and hesitation shing in her eyes.

    "Cedric," she began, her voice soft and hesitant. "Have you given any thought to what the tasks might involve? What we might be facing in the tournament?"

    Cedric''s eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "I...I don''t know," he said, a frown creasing his brow. "Professor Sprout suggested that I look through some old materials, try to find any clues or hints about what might be in store for us. But honestly, I don''t¡­Oh."

    He paused, a sudden realization washing over him and smiled in embarrassment looking at Hermione. "I guess this doesn''t count as cheating, right?"

    Hermione shook her head reassuring him. "Of course not, it''s just being prepared, that''s all. There''s nothing wrong with trying to gather as much information as possible before we step into the ground."

    She hesitated for a moment, considering her next words carefully. "Have you...have you talked to any of the other champions? Krum or Dcour, I mean? About the tasks, or...or anything else?"

    Cedric''s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a look of confusion flickering across his face.

    "No, I haven''t really had the chance and I don''t really know them¡ª" He said frankly, shaking his head. "I mean, I know they''re both incredibly talented, and they''re going to be toughpetition. So, no matter which one of us it is, we have to put on an impressive performance, right? Otherwise, it would be too embarrassing for Hogwarts!"

    Hermione nodded, processing this information. She could basically confirm that Krum had not been kind enough to reveal the specific content of thepetition tasks to both of Hogwarts'' champions. He hade specifically for her.

    If she was being honest, Hermione was far less perplexed by Krum''s motivations than Harry had been.

    Girls possessed a keener emotional intuition than boys, and she had not failed to notice the glimmer of eagerness in Krum''s eyes whenever he looked at her during the days, they spent together looking for information in the library, but she was too embarrassed to tell anyone.

    She had already been criticized a lot for being a champion. If Krum''s huge fan club knew that their idol had feelings for her, she probably wouldn''t have any peace staying in the dormitory from then on.

    The atmosphere suddenly became a little ambiguous, mainly because Hermione was touched that Krum was willing to take the initiative to reveal this valuable information about thepetition content only to her.

    However, in Cedric''s eyes, it was apletely different story. He suddenly discovered that Hermione Granger beside him started to look at him with a wandering gaze, and then her cheeks flushed, just like those girls who gave him love letters!

    But wasn''t Hermione Granger close with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?!

    "Ahem, alright¡ª"

    Cedric''s eyes turned fearful. He subconsciously took a step back.

    "I think that covers it. I really should be getting to the Great Hall. I''ll just... go on ahead."

    With that, Cedric was about to sidestep Hermione. He didn''t want any unclear rumors to spread about him and Hermione Granger. The girl he liked was not her.

    "Wait, Cedric!"

    Hermione subconsciously called out.

    Hermione wasn''t exactly sure why she wanted to tell Cedric all this. If she had to find a reason, it would be¡ªfairness.

    Since Fleur, Krum and herself already knew, then letting Cedric also know this crucial piece of information adhered to the principle of fairness¡ªat least that''s how Hermione convinced herself.

    Hermione didn''t want to dwell on why Cedric seemed to want to escape from her at the moment. She looked around to make sure there were no younger students nearby, took a deep breath, lowered her voice and said quickly,

    "I''ll only say this once¡ª"

    "What?"

    Cedric''s voice began to tremble. He had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going.

    "Dragons," Hermione said, her eyes wide and serious. "That''s what we''re facing in the first task. Dragons. You need toe up with a strategy, and fast."

    After a moment''s hesitation, Hermione didn''t say the second reminder out loud.

    Cedric stood motionless, clearly still unable to snap out of the shock brought on by the information Hermione revealed. But Hermione didn''t n to wait for Cedric toe to his senses. She turned directly to leave. Otherwise, it would be too suspicious if someone else saw Hogwarts'' two champions talking secretively together¡ª

    However,

    "Miss Granger¡ª"

    Just as Hermione had only taken two steps, the door to a room opposite them suddenly creaked open. Professor Moody''s low, hoarse voice made both Hermione and Cedric''s hair stand on end.

    "A word in my office, if you please."

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 0560 Problems

    0560 Problems

    Moody''s expressionless, scarred face startled both Hermione and Cedric as they suddenly realized with a jolt of panic that they had been chatting right outside the open door of Professor Moody''s office.

    To make matters worse, as all the young witches and wizards at Hogwarts were well aware, a mere wall was no barrier whatsoever to Moody''s magical eye. He must have seen the two of them conversing in the hallway before pressing his ear against the door to eavesdrop on their hushed conversation for some time.

    "Professor, we can exin¡ª" Cedric started to say, eager to rify the situation, but Moody abruptly cut him off before he could get another word out.

    The scars twisting Moody''s cheeks contorted as he growled, "Mr. Diggory, I believe you were on your way to the Great Hall for supper. Off you go then. I need to have a private word with Miss Granger."

    Though extremely reluctant to leave Hermione alone to face Moody''s wrath, Cedric knew he had no choice but toply with a professor''s direct order. He took a hesitant step, nced back over his shoulder with a worried expression, wavered for a moment longer, and then finally disappeared around the corner and down the stairs.

    Hermione could feel the blood draining from her face, leaving her skin ashen. She had no idea how Professor Moody would choose to punish her for this, but it was clearly a serious vition of the tournament rules that constituted cheating.

    If the consequence was limited to stripping her of her champion status, she could happily ept that. But the terrifying possibility that she might be expelled for this loomed in her racing mind. And if Hagrid somehow got implicated in this as well...Hermione knew all too well how terrified Hagrid was of breaking thew and losing his position at Hogwarts.

    "Come in and sit down, Miss Granger," Professor Moodymanded gruffly, beckoning Hermione forward as he turned and limped back into his dimly lit office.

    Hermione had fully expected Professor Moody to waste no time in sternly rebuking her, immediatelyunching into a relentless interrogation simr to that of his days as an Auror passing judgement on wicked dark wizards. However, to her utter bewilderment, none of the harsh treatment she had steeled herself for came.

    "So, you''ve figured it out, have you?" Professor Moody said, his gruff tone oddly gentle, even bordering on pleased in a way Hermione couldn''t understand.

    "I...I don''t...I mean..." Hermione stammered helplessly, her mind racing as she tried to determine the wisest course of action.

    Should shee clean right away in a desperate bid for leniency or attempt to maintain a fa?ade of innocence as long as possible?

    Having nevernded herself in such dire straits before, Hermione felt unprepared to steer such an interrogation. A violent tremor tormented her from head to toe as her imagination uncontrobly conjured vivid images of herself and Hagrid hastily packing their bags and being driven out of Hogwarts in disgrace.

    "Now, now, no need to look so distraught, Miss Granger," Moody said with an abnormal chuckle, perhaps noticing the terror written inly across Hermione''s ashen facial features and taking pity on her.

    His face softened into an almost kindly expression that seemed extremely out of ce on his scarred face. "You know, a bit of strategic cheating has always been a time-honored tradition in the Triwizard Tournament."

    <em>''Huh?''</em> Hermione''s mind came to a screeching halt, certain she must have misheard or misunderstood the professor''s shocking words.

    Moody, however, seemed carelessly unaware that he had just dropped a bombshell, casually unscrewing the cap of his hip sk and taking a hearty swig of its contents.

    From Professor Moody''s undisguised twisted expression, the bottle probably didn''t contain a delicious beverage. Hermione wrinkled her nose, feeling the smell was a bit familiar, very familiar, but she had no time to dwell on this issue.

    "Ah, let me rify," Moody continued with a raspy chuckle, his piercing gaze taking in Hermione''s gobsmacked expression. "The Triwizard Tournament is designed to test the champions'' mettle in aprehensive manner.

    The truepetition extends far beyond the official tasks, Miss Granger. Gathering critical intelligence is a crucialponent of a champion''s overall performance. And in that respect, it seems you''ve passed with flying colors. Mr. Diggory owes you a debt of gratitude."

    Hermione kept blinking dazedly for long seconds, her mind struggling to process this revtion. Only when the breath she hadn''t realized she''d been holding burst from her lungs did she feel the lingering chill slowly melting away, color rushing back into her pale cheeks.

    <em>''So that''s how it was!''</em> Suddenly, the pieces all clicked into ce, and the fundamental structure of the Triwizard Tournament that had previously struck Hermione as tantly absurd began to make a bit of sense.

    Ever since she had first learned the shocking details of the extremely dangerous tasks featured in past tournaments, Hermione had always thought it was simply too absurd.

    Putting adolescent witches and wizards who should still be receiving education against the most fearsome dark creatures known to wizard kind - werewolves, Dementors, vampires, dragons! ¨C without any fair warning seemed like an act of utter madness. Even fully qualified adult witches and wizards would be struggling to survive such lethal trials without extensive preparation.

    But now Professor Moody''s straightforward words provided the missing context to resolve that fundamental disbnce in her mind. Although a part of her felt annoyed that she had required someone else to spell it out for her. With this realization, the cold dread that had held her paralyzed vanished in a rush, leaving Hermione flushed with embarrassment.

    "I...it was pure luck that I stumbled upon it," Hermione said very modestly, trying not to appear too smug.

    Moody let out a hoarse, dryugh, his magical eye spinning rapidly. "Since that''s the case, you must have already thought about how to deal with the dragon, eh?"

    <strong>Hmm¡ª</strong> Hermione subconsciously wanted to mention the spells she had been practicing these past few days. But before the words came out, she stopped herself, her expression bing tense again.

    If finding out about the tasks items or beings could be considered a hidden test in the tournament, then discussing how to deal with them with a professor was definitely not something that was allowed. After all, Barty Crouch had already made it clear that champions could not ept help from any professor.

    "Professor Moody¡ª" Hermione''s eyes flickered as she said with difficulty, "The rules state that discussing this is not allowed."

    "Oh, Miss Granger, you don''t think I''m going to give you ideas, do you?" Moody let out an exaggeratedugh. "Of course, I won''t do that. Even though your ssroom performance is excellent, I won''t give you special treatment because of it. But I must remind you, Miss Granger, you and Mr. Potter have seen how despicable Karkaroff is. You can take the high road, but I dare say Karkaroff won''t be satisfied with just finding out the tournament challenge from Snape. He might even hold a meeting, gather everyone from Durmstrang toe up with ideas for the Durmstrang champion... I''m just¡ª"

    Moody''s eyes suddenly stopped moving, both eyes quietly staying in their sockets. They began to emit an extremely faint but alluring green glow, a bit like the color of Harry''s eyes, Hermione thought nkly.

    She waspletely unaware of how unreasonable this phenomenon was. But she suddenly had an urge to confide, and then she spilled out her entire n.

    "Brilliantly reasoned, Miss Granger!" Moody said approvingly once Hermione had finished sharing her preparations. "Impably selected spells for the task at hand - the Conjunctivitis Curse to target the dragon''s eyes, the Impediment Jinx to slow its movements and reaction time, and the me-Freezing Charm and Extinguishing Spell to neutralize its most formidable weapon. How in the name of Merlin did you n such aprehensive strategy?"

    "It was Professor Watson!" Hermione blurted out without thinking. Toote, she realized her slip and shot to her feet in horror, nearly toppling the chair over backwards.

    <em>''How could this be? I shouldn''t have exposed Professor Watson!''</em>

    Moody also looked stunned. He had not expected Watson to be involved in this matter. He didn''t seem like someone who would pull strings for a young witch.

    "Professor Watson just¡­. He just gave our ss some general tactical advice in a purely academic sense, using the example of an overwhelmingly powerful opponent to illustrate his point!" Hermione scrambled to rify, desperate toe up with an excuse for Professor Watson. "He wasn''t speaking about the tournament at all, I just inferred from his lesson to a real-world situation."

    "Be that as it may..." Moody said slowly, his gaze still curiously unfocused. Seeing Hermione ready to bolt for the door, he gestured for her to retake her seat. "Please, sit back down, Miss Granger. We aren''t quite finished here."

    Though hesitant, Hermione sat back down. The conversation had already reached this point, and she also wanted to hear what Professor Moody would ultimately say.

    The cracked Foe-ss on the desk scattered the sunlight from the window, forming strange, disorienting shadows on the wall. Hermione suddenly realized there were quite a few odd objects in this office. She had seen most of them in books, but there were also some things she couldn''t make heads or tails of.

    "Professor Watson''s oversight is understandable," Moody finally said, his normal eye swiveling to refocus on Hermione while his magical one whizzed around seemingly on its own. "His mastery ofbative magic is unrivaled, so he can rely on his own exceptional power to carry the day. That luxury has perhaps blinded him to certain fundamental vulnerabilities in your strategy as it stands."

    "What?" Hermione had been feeling annoyed at herself for being so talkative just now. But hearing this, she asked in surprise.

    "Admiration can cloud one''s judgement, Miss Granger. I''d have thought a witch as brilliant as you would have spotted the problem," Moody said, his tone gently rebuking. "The Conjunctivitis Curse requires pinpoint precision tond cleanly. You know, you''re not targeting a block of wood. You''re very likely to hit the Dragon''s eyelid or even head. One twitch at the crucial moment, and you''ve just angered a dragon without nullifying its most lethal asset."

    Hermione flushed at this oversight, silently criticizing herself for not anticipating that ring w.

    Of course,nding such a challenging curse on a moving target at a distance under the intense pressure would be hard. How could she have staked her survival on such an obvious gamble?

    "The Impediment Jinx and me-Freezing Charm are sound in theory but still risky," Moody continued relentlessly. "I guess they''ll certainly have an effect, but it''s not guaranteed... You understand what I mean, Miss Granger. Against such arge magical creature, the intensity required to achieve the desired effect would be immense. If your magical power falls before the task isplete..."

    Seeing the dumbfounded Hermione, Moody grinned smugly. "Of course, as I said, these are all very useful little spells, just not very safe. I think you can give yourself a stronger trump card... An easily obtainable prop that will make you less conspicuous¡ª"

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 0561 Final Preparations

    0561 Final Preparations

    A thin, wispy fog shrouded the area like a filmy veil as the first morning light glimmered faintly on the horizon.

    High above in the dim, grey pre-dawn sky, a yellowish-brown owl returningte from its nightly hunt glided silently on the cool wind currents. It circled past the tallest astronomy tower of Hogwarts and tiredly towards the Owlery to rest its weary wings after a long night of hunting for prey in field and forest.

    However, just as it shed past the Ravenw Tower, the owl''s sharp gaze captured a wondrous sight - a majestic, circr structure that had appeared as if by magic overnight on the sturdy stone overpass set up across the deep ravine separating Hogwarts from the nearby mountains.

    The owl''s curiosity triumphed over its bone-deep fatigue. Intrigued, it tucked its wings and dived sharply crossing several miles in the blink of an eye.

    Then, riding a lucky oing gust of wind, the brown owl quickly soared again with powerful beats of its broad wings. Eventually, itnded on the edge of a huge, rectangr screen.

    This enormous screen, suspended on aplex bird''s nest-like steel frame structure, appeared ck overall, as if a starless night sky had been captured and pinned in ce.

    Up close, the owl could see it was pieced together by many square stone tablets fitted edge-to-edge. Each tablet was engraved with intricate magic runes. Tilting its head curiously, the owl lowered its hooked beak and pecked tentatively a few times at the strange surface with a hard-tapping sound, but this curious probing attempt was apparently defined by the enchantments as an attack.

    As a result, a gentle but firm wave of invisible force surged out of nowhere, catching under the owl''s wings and blowing the startled bird back up into the air.

    <strong>Hoo hoo--!</strong> The owl circled indignantly above the intriguing building, hooting its disgruntled protest after losing a few feathers to that sudden gust. Ruffling its remaining feathers with an almost offended air, the owl shifted its attention elsewhere, studying the transformed area spread out below.

    Relying on its exceptional dark vision, it immediately discovered that it was not the only one hovering in the air around the new structure.

    A number of strange little objects were also flying around, but these were quite odd to the owl''s eyes. They all had small white wings like moths orcewings that fluttered extremely fast as they flew around.

    The owl had indeed seen some people stick simr things to their eyes and look around intently while it had delivered letters to various wizards. Those odd things they wore had asionally emitted fierce, blinding white shes of light to illuminate a scene, but unlike the small winged objects currently before its eyes, they didn''t have wings.

    The owl did not choose to fly down lower for a closer look, despite its curiosity, because the early morning air down there contained a more concentrated amount of stirred up dust and debris at those lower positions, which made the owl''s sensitive eyes feel quite ufortable.

    However, this lingering dust did not significantly affect its vision. Hovering on an air current, it could still clearly see what the bustling wizards below were doing as they worked like busy ants.

    Arge number of wizards were waving their wands in unison as they stood around the stadium, and then the huge wooden boards and beams ced on the ground at their feet rose up and flew into the sky one by one as if pulled by invisible string. These boards inserted and fitted themselves into the load-bearing ports and sockets reserved in the steel frame''s framework with loud thunking sounds, steadily forming a sturdy circr floor as they locked into ce.

    <strong>Bang!</strong> A crisp, loud explosion nearby suddenly startled the owl, and it hurriedly pped its wings to make itself climb higher into the safety of open sky on instinct. Twisting its head around, it looked around for the source of the disturbance.

    "Bryan, I''ve got the carpets you wanted!"

    As the echoes of the noise faded, a wizard appeared seemingly out of thin air with a faint pop of disced air, carrying arge gray cloth bag. The man''s eyes wandered around the transformed area, clearly searching for someone.

    After looking about briefly and not immediately finding anyone, he pointed his wand at his own throat and called out in an amplified voice that boomed across the space,

    "Oy, where are you, Bryan?"

    "Ah, thank you, Ludo, you''ve helped me out a lot--"

    Before long, a tall figure emerged from a hidden small room behind the shielded referee''s seat at the top of the circr stadium in answer to the call. He stood on the high stand dozens of feet in the air, but still urately pinpointed the location of the person calling him far below.

    "How''s your wonderful new alchemy gadgeting along -- will there be any issues with it?"

    With another loud pop of Apparition, Ludo appeared right next to Bryan up in the stands with his bag still in tow. He nced curiously at the parts of unknown use that Bryan held in his hand and said enthusiastically.

    "I don''t exactly know just yet, Ludo, but I believe there won''t be any significant problems," Bryan replied thoughtfully, turning the delicate pieces over in his fingers. "I n to make an attempt at activating and testing the device at seven o''clock sharp--"

    As Bryan spoke, Ludo happened to notice that there was more than one person bustling about in the small studio behind Bryan - two goblins were also busy inside, fiddling with gears and lenses and crystals.

    Seeing the paranoid, secretive goblins, Ludo immediately scrunched up his shoulders, retracted his craning neck, and lowered his already-hushed voice quite a bit more as he leaned in closer to Bryan,

    "I managed to get these carpets from the Ministry''s warehouse stores. They were purchased brand new back when we were preparing for the Quidditch World Cup, but ended up going unused in storage. No need to spend yet more money, so ol'' Barty agreed readily to me when I exined what we needed!"

    Bryan expressed his sincere gratitude once again for Ludo''s efforts and assistance. He looked out around the stadium and saw with satisfaction that it had finally taken itspleted shape. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief, the tension easing from his shoulders a bit.

    There was still a hazy amount of lingering smoke and disturbed dust particles in the air, making everything in sight appear slightly blurry as if seen through a filtered lens.

    Not wanting to be clouded in dust, Bryan walked over to the sturdy safety railing at the edge of the high tform and casted a wide-area Scouring Charm with his wand in a clean arc from top to bottom of the stadium.

    The next second, a strange glittering ripple spread out rapidly in an expanding sphere, and the troublesome dust all seemed to suddenly bear a tremendous momentary gravity, instantly falling like heavy snow back to the ground far below, the pulse of magic even affected the curiously-observing owl still circling high above in the brightening sky.

    The new rity of sight satisfied Bryan, who gave a pleased nod at the much-improved view. He turned to therge bag Ludo had brought and pointed his wand at it.

    <strong>Whoosh--!</strong> Many neatly-bundled rolls of ck carpets suddenly shot out from the open mouth of the bag like a barrage of soft cannonballs. They evenly distributed themselves to nned points in various parts of the stadium, then unrolled and stretched out their bodies until they stuck firmly to the floors, making the recently-finished stadium look even more polished and grand.

    "Very nice indeed--" Ludo said happily, admiring the effect. He turned in a circle and found that the spectator seats behind them were not just simple chairs as he had first assumed. The smoothly-curved armrests had small rotating tabletops cleverly attached to them that could be used by the spectators to hold snacks and drinks.

    His tourplete, Ludo suddenly frowned and nced around in worry again, as if btedly realizing there was still one key element missing from the scene.

    "I say, where''s ol'' Dumbledore got off to?" he asked of no one in particr, hands on his hips. "Why isn''t he here yet overseeing things? Shouldn''t he be on site by now?"

    Bryan raised his eyes to the steadily-lightening sky in the east and pondered Ludo''s question for a long moment before giving a wry half-smile.

    "Well now, I can''t answer that particr question withplete uracy of course, Ludo, but ording to my guess he should have just gotten himself up at this time and is likely caressing his beard in the Headmaster''s private luxury bathroom--"

    Ludo immediately burst into a hearty, cheerfulugh at the amusing mental image, but then, when he turned to look at Bryan again, he found that he was already moving to return to the studio.

    Ludo''s face fell, then changed to a look of sudden nervous anxiety. He hurriedly reached out and grabbed at Bryan''s sleeve, stopping him. Bryan turned back with an inquiring raised eyebrow, and in the face of those unsettlingly-shrewd eyes, Ludo found himself hesitating once again, his previous boldness suddenly abandoning him.

    "Ahem, yes, well," Ludo coughed, clearing his throat ufortably. He lowered his voice and adopted a more coaxing, fawning tone.

    "I say, Bryan, you see... well, you should know, just between us, that this tournament is under an absolutely tremendous amount of attention and scrutiny, and I don''t just mean from the Ministry and the schools and all. I''m talking about attention from... ahem, shall we say interested outside parties, you understand?" Ludo tapped the side of his nose and attempted a sly expression.

    Bryan''s face turned nk, and he crossed his arms over his chest. When he spoke, his voice had gone cold and clipped. "Ludo... if you''re about to ask me -- as an official overseeing and organizing this tournament -- who I think will win the Triwizard Cup, hoping I''ll slip and tell you my predictions for the results so that you can turn around and win big on the gambling and bookmaking circuits..."

    Bryan gave a stern re that made Ludo wince and shrink in on himself, "Well, then, what I have to tell you is that any one of the champions has a chance to win, and I''ll not y favorites or predict. I''m warning you, Ludo -- don''t you dare bring those bad habits of yours anywhere near the Tournament. I won''t stand for any inappropriate scandals or rumors of rigged oues tarnishing the tournament''s reputation."

    "Aw,e off it, Bryan! I''m sure I don''t know what you mean about bad habits!" Ludo stuttered, looking offended, but there was an unmistakable glint of greed and calction in his small eyes that contradicted his words.

    "I was simply appreciating your past magnanimity, that''s all!" Ludo continued on eagerly, undeterred, "But this tournament is the opportunity of a lifetime! Just think, that''s a huge pot of gold to be had, and you clearly have the chance to get your hands on a cut of it nice and easy, no fuss, no muss! Why, with your information, it would be a piece of cake to--"

    Bryan''s eyes turned chilly and hard. He was just opening his mouth tosh on the shameless Ludo, but suddenly there was a newmotion and tter from outside the stadium. Bryan immediately knew that Charlie and the others had escorted a few dragons to the stadium.

    "Ludo, I''m not going to tell you again -- don''t do anything foolish or reckless," Bryan said sharply, the warning clear in his face and voice. He shook off Ludo''s grip on his sleeve and gave him a final re. "I have to go see to the new arrivals. Stay out of trouble, or there will be serious consequences."

    With that, Bryan turned on his back and strode away towards the hidden staircase, and his figure suddenly disappeared, leaving Ludo stamping his feet in frustration and reluctance.

    Down on the grassywn outside the stadium''s main gates, four huge carriages crashed heavily to the ground,nding hard from mid-air. The massive wooden hubs creaked and cracked, deforming to an almost exaggerated degree at the moment of impact before their heavy Cushioning Charms absorbed the worst of the shock.

    They expanded like squashed marshmallows, then bounced back into shape, sessfully bringing the four carriages -- and their critically-important living cargo -- to a safe, reasonably smooth stop on the spongy turf.

    Bryan popped back into existence a few yards away just as Charlie scrambled down from the lead carriage''s driver''s box, as he gripped the side rails.

    "Ho there, Charlie!" Bryan called out with a grin, striding over as Charlie jumped down thest few steps of the built-indder tond firmly on the grass. "How are our scaly ''protagonists of the hour'', eh? No issues, I trust?"

    "Sleeping soundly, Bryan!" Charlie also replied loudly, "I doubt they''ll wake up for a good few hours yet. Before we dosed them with the specially-brewed extra-strength Sleeping Draught, Hagrid and his helpful little elf friend... Freodom, I think he said its name was...? fed the beasties to the gills for us.

    After all, you know a hungry dragon is ten times more dangerous and feistier than a well-fed one, so we didn''t want to risk it, not with the champions going up against them!"

    A huge crack opened in the ground, revealing a ramp in everyone''s sight, and at the other end of the ramp, a faint glow of fire could be seen.

    Charlie instructed hispanions to slowly drive the carriages into this temporarily made dungeon, where the dragons would be housed before the start of the tournament.

    Another carriage moved up to the scene from the direction of the overpass, this one containing aplete temporary field kitchen staffed by a squad of Hogwarts house-elves. They would be responsible for providing delicious lunches to the early-arriving guests in the stadium, and during the spectating period, they could also enjoy delicious drinks.

    Although not quite as grand in size as the professional Quidditch World Cup stadium, which could seat a hundred thousand spectators, the newly-finished Triwizard Tournament arena was still more thanrge enough to amodate the sizable crowd that was expected to turn out for the event.

    Cleverly concealed in the misty valleys between the surrounding mountains, many massive magical broadcast antennas had been erected overnight by the crews, their rune-etched metal frames rising high into the fog.

    At the foot of each towering antenna, teams of goblins in Gringotts uniform and WWN staff technicians in burgundy robes hurried around theplicated-looking control panels, makingst-minute adjustments and tapping their wands in careful patterns to fine-tune the sensitive equipment.

    As the golden rays of the morning sun finally broke through thest bit of gloom lingering low between the mountains and valleys, Bryan stood in the center of the much-changed stadium and looked up at the enormous matte-ck screen hanging high above the pitch.

    He raised his wand and drew aplicated sharp-angled sigil in lines of glowing blue light, finishing it off with a twist and a decisive shot directly at the screen''s heart.

    All at once, the runes etched around the screen''s edges red with zing blue radiance, pulsing in perfect time with the dancing wand-light still flowing from the tip of Bryan''s outstretched wand. The strange radiance swiftly spread inside in forks of crackling lightning until it engulfed the entire screen in a rippling field of energy.

    The ck screen flickered, shimmered, then with a ze of silver sparks, a stable image finally set itself out.

    A bird''s eye view of the finished Triwizard stadium appeared as if seen from a great height, perfectly showcasing not just the stretch of the pitch itself, but also the grounds and theplex terrain of cliff, forest andkeshore surrounding it on all sides. It was a breathtaking sight, and Bryan felt his heart swelling with pride and satisfaction as he observed it.

    From half a year ago to this day, all the long days and nights of work had finally, finally borne fruit.

    Smiling, Bryan raised his wand high above and sent up an enormous fountain of red and gold sparks to sparkle in the brightening sky like celebratory fireworks. Far above in the dissipating mists, the tired owl saw the dazzling disy and, taking it as a sign, turned around and soared off for the Owlery with a final hoot.

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 0562 Wait

    0562 Wait

    At the darkest hour before dawn, the sky outside held an inky ckness blurry from the moments just before falling asleep.

    The clock struck six on this chilly winter morning, and though many would struggle to leave their warm, cozy beds at such an early time, Harry found it less painful thanks to the habituation from his morning exercises during the earliest physical education sses.

    It took him a few dozen seconds to recollect his motivation for setting the rm at this unusual hour. He quickly dressed himself, slid out from beneath the covers, and made his way to the bathroom to freshen up and prepare for the day ahead.

    Harry had meticulously prepared for today. His boots gleamed, spotless and polished to a high shine. The wizard robes were neat, without a single wrinkle or crease to be found. He had even asked Hermione the previous night, before returning to the dormitory, to ensure his sses were absolutely clean and clear with magic.

    The only aspect of his appearance that refused to cooperate was his unruly hair. No matter how much Harry wet it,bed it, or attempted to smooth it down, it continued to stick up messily all over his head. With a resigned sigh, he gave it up as a lost cause.

    Neville''s four-poster bed was empty with the covers pulled up and the pillows neatly arranged. The other three boys, however, were still sound asleep, snoring softly. This was hardly surprising, as they had all stayed up far toote the night before, pestering Harry and Neville with endless questions about the escort mission the two were tasked with carrying out today.

    Upon descending the stairs and entering themon room, Harry found it deserted. However, as he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast, he encountered Ginny seated at the Gryffindor table.

    "Good morning, Harry--"

    "Good morning, Ginny," He greeted her, his eyelids flickering in surprise as he took in her appearance. He could see that Ginny must have also spent time dressing herself up. She looked notably prettier than usual, though Harry couldn''t help but feel she still fell slightly short inparison to the beautifully smiling girl at the Ravenw table.

    "Are you here alone?" Harry inquired.

    "Hmm," Ginny responded, her cheeks flushing a shade of pink as her eyes darted nervously. "A group just left a moment ago, but I hadn''t finished eating yet, so I stayed behind."

    Harry nodded with a touch of awkwardness in his demeanor.

    "Well, it seems we should probably hurry and finish up too." He lowered his gaze and focused intently on finishing his breakfast at a rapid pace, sensing Ginny''s resentful eyes upon him as he ate.

    By this point, Harry had grown ustomed to facing Ginny''s obvious admiration with a rtively calm andposed attitude, helped in part by the fact that as she matured, Ginny had be more restraint in expressing her feelings.

    The majority of the students from the physical education ss had already gathered at the school gate by the time Harry and Ginny hurried to join them. Each student was dressed in what appeared to be brand new wizard robes, and an excited chatter filled the air as they stood waiting.

    "I want you lot to pay attention and remember the rules, you hear me?"

    For once, even Filch, had made an effort to dress for the special asion, though his moth-eaten, rotten tailcoat was still a far cry from stylish. His face was red from shouting at the top of his lungs in an attempt to capture the students'' wandering attention.

    "Remember, you lot, you''re representing Hogwarts today!" Filch roared, his face reddening with the effort. " Any behavior, and I mean ANY behavior, that damages the school''s reputation will be punished severely! Professor Watson himself gave me these orders!

    And mark my words, you mangy little troublemakers, I''ve already submitted an application to Professor Watson for permission to bring back some of the old ways of dealing with disobedient students like yourselves. If any of you are itching to test me, step forward and give it a go... I dare you!"

    Perched on Filch''s shoulder, Mrs. Norris, her coat even oilier than usual, let out a menacing growl right on cue.

    "Pfft, that old fool''s useless... the only thing he''s good for is writing with a quill plucked from a chicken''s back!" Fred muttered sarcastically under his breath. He had been in the midst of a conversation with Angelina, but he still managed to shoot a mocking look at Filch. Harry, who was close enough to overhear thement, had to choke back augh.

    It was well known that Filch harbored lofty dreams of one day shackling misbehaving students in the castle dungeons, but everyone understood such aspirations would nevere to fruition.

    As it became increasingly apparent that even Professor Watson''s order couldn''t establish any real sense of authority over the unruly group of students, Filch''s spirits visibly deted.

    Snorting angrily, he spun back, retrieved arge iron key from his pocket, and unlocked the heavy gate with a resounding clunk. Seeing this, the students surged forward eagerly.

    The path leading away from Hogwarts went through a dense forest with the ground covered in a thickyer of wet, decaying leaves. In the pre-dawn gloom, the towering trees created an oppressive darkness, and it wasn''t until the group emerged from the woods and began ascending a rocky hillside that the first hints of daylight became visible.

    As they climbed the hill, the students let out a collective gasp of surprise. There, standing tall on top of a neighboring peak, was an immense metal pole just like an antenna.

    "I overheard Professor Flitwick discussing it," Cho Chang said, her voice tinged with awe. "Apparently it''s some sort of alchemical device Professor Watson invented to transmit live footage of the match."

    "I-I think I see something moving near the base of it!" Neville stammered, squinting and raising a hand to shield his eyes from the re of the rising sun. "It sort of looks like a house-elf...?"

    "It''s a goblin, Neville--" Harry said with certainty.

    A passionate discussion immediately broke out regarding how exactly Professor Watson nned to broadcast what was happening on the Hogwarts grounds in real-time to the wizardingmunities scattered all across Europe. Those who were already privy to at least a superficial exnation of Professor Watson''s groundbreaking "television" project, were only the three Weasley siblings and Harry.

    "The magic and process involved are bloody mind-boggling," George muttered to Harry as they trekked along the path, his freckled face serious for once. "We''ve been trying to wrap our heads around it for ages. Fred and I have made attempt after attempt to recreate a prototype, but we just can''t seem to crack it. This is not something that can be done by knowing a little about Transfiguration and Alchemy!"

    Since sneaking into Professor Watson''s office earlyst year and seeing that set of magical equipment, Fred and George had been obsessed with it. Harry knew that they had been trying every means to produce it themselves but failed. This was not surprising, as this kind of wonderful alchemical tool was not the joke product that Fred and George were good at.

    "Speaking of your business... how are things going?" Harry asked casually through a wide, jaw-cracking yawn.

    Fred and George instantly perked up, their eyes gleaming with enthusiasm, and they opened their mouths to exin on their many schemes. Before they could utter a word, however, the rising sun, which had been steadily climbing higher as they made their way through the grounds, suddenly burst forth in full, glorious splendor.

    It jumped free of the horizon, loosing its bonds and setting the skyline zing. In an instant, thendscape was washed in dazzling, honeyed light, transforming the dull tones of the snoozing earth to a rich, vibrant palette.

    To the ck-jawed amazement of the students, the mysterious antenna they had spotted earlier was far from a single structure. As they gazed awestruck at the opennd dotted with hills as far as the eye could see, they realized nearly every summit was topped with an identical antenna.

    "Blimey, this is mad!" Justin Finch-Fletchley eximed in shock. "I can''t even begin to imagine the cost of setting all this up. The goblins must be swimming in gold Galleons!"

    Draco snorted derisively and shot Justin a sarcastic look, not bothering to hide his disdain. Though he had little interest in running his family''s business himself, his upbringing within the Malfoys as a prominent business family had filled him with a keen business acumen that far surpassed most of his peers.

    He understood that while the goblins'' newly constructed equipment undoubtedly carried a hefty price tag, the potential profits to be gained from broadcasting the match live to the entire wizarding world would more than justify the initial investment.

    Moreover, if the goblins could secure Professor Watson''s cooperation in sharing the underlying technology, the equipment''s value would extend far beyond this single event. By partnering with the Wizarding Wireless Network, they could introduce an entirely new form of entertainment to magical society¡ªa venture that promised untold riches for those with the foresight to seize the opportunity.

    As the students finally arrived at Hogsmeade Station, they were greeted by an unusual sight. The normally bustling tform, which typically only saw a relief from the constantings and goings of Hogwarts students during the brief calms of summer vacation, Christmas holiday, and the start of the school year, now stood nearly deserted, staffed only by a handful of Hogsmeade vigers.

    A neat row of gleaming carriages awaited the students, ready to transport them back to the castle grounds. The vehicles had been meticulously washed and polished until they shone, and a plush red carpet stretched from the station''s exit to the boarding area. Colorful flower baskets lined the walkway at regr intervals, adding a festive touch to the scene.

    Entering the station, Harry''s eyes were immediately drawn to the two massive steel columns that supported the main structure. On each column, a g bearing the Hogwarts crest had been erected, and between them, an enormous banner proimed: "Warm wee to people from all walks of life in the wizarding world to visit Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry".

    Millicent clicked her tongue approvingly as she surveyed the decoration. "Whose idea was all this?" she wondered aloud.

    "Definitely not Dumbledore''s doing," Draco replied with casual certainty, his own gaze roaming over the flower-adorned station with interest. "This has Professor Watson written all over it."

    As the first weak rays of sunlight finally broke through the clouds, casting a gentle glow over the ancientndscape, a distant whistle echoed through the mountains. The students, realizing the significance of the sound, quickly assembled themselves into the formation they had rehearsed, their chests swelling with pride as they stood tall and ready.

    Today, they knew, the castle beside theke would once more find itself at the center of attention, not only for the European magicalmunity, but for the entire wizarding world.

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 0563 Arrivals

    0563 Arrivals

    Lucius gazed out the window of the Hogwarts Expresspartment in a pensive frown as the train chugged through the lush Scottish countryside.

    Truthfully, Lucius had little desire to return to Hogwarts controlled by that the pretentious, twinkle-eyed old fool he despised most in the wizarding world. Each time he was forced to endure the sight of that infuriating smile on that old face, Lucius felt a deep, instinctual difort that manifested both physically and psychologically.

    In the past, duty and position hadpelled him to make an annual visit to the school. After all, he was a director on the Hogwarts Board of Governors and needed toe to exercise his authority.

    However, ever since that humiliating incident the previous year when Dumbledore had essentially kicked him off the board, Lucius had seriously avoided entertaining even the merest thought of setting foot at that unpleasant school, except for one desperate visit to seek help from Bryan Watson.

    And yet, in a surprising turn of events, here he was, within a privatepartment on the scarlet steam engine with his beloved wife Narcissa by his side.

    It was not any sudden, inexplicable interest in the Triwizard Tournament that had lured him back, nor a desire to check in on his son Draco''s academic progress. No, the sole motivating factor behind this unanticipated journey was a personal invitation from Bryan Watson.

    If there was one person among Hogwarts'' staff that he was willing to see, it would definitely be Watson.

    The moment he received the invitation letter from Bryan Watson, Lucius had been genuinely taken aback. He harbored no illusions that Watson would prostrate himself before the Malfoy family like so many other tterers and social climbers; if anything, Lucius was very aware that in this particr rtionship, he was far more likely to be the one currying favor.

    Mutual Use- this was something Lucius Malfoy had long figured out.

    The intersection of their goals was the Dark Lord. At this point, Lucius saw very clearly that the Dark Lord''s true purpose was not at all to lead them in restoring the glory of pureblood families. He was a thorough tyrant who only wanted domination and for everyone to be his ve.

    Lucius yearned to break free from the suffocating grip of his envement, but he was aware of his own limitations andcked the courage to take that step. No one knew better than he the gruesome fate that awaited those who dared betray the Dark Lord; on far too many asions, Lucius himself had been the one that carried out those merciless retribution.

    Watson''s intention to oppose the Dark Lord was also not deliberately hidden. He was apparently aware of the difficulty, so he hoped...no, perhaps he saw some value remaining in the Malfoy family and thus granted an opportunity to be exploited.

    Lucius could not refuse either side, so he could only hedge his bets on both.

    This behavior was dangerous, but fortunately, this was precisely what the Malfoy family excelled at.

    "Dear?" The sweet tones of his wife''s voice pulled Lucius from his brooding contemtion.

    Narcissa slid open thepartment door with a soft whoosh and walked inside. She observed her husband with a questioning tilt of her head, noting his distant expression as he gazed out the window.

    "Hmm?" Lucius responded distractedly, the nomittal noise emanating from deep within his throat. He tore his eyes away from the ruralndscape and focused on his wife as she settled into the plush seat across from him. "What is it? Who did you encounter?"

    "I just ran into Mrs. Fudge in the corridor," Narcissa replied, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her spotlessly tailored robes. "The Minister himself didn''t apany her, but he secured her an invitation. We made ns to go shopping together in Paris next Monday."

    Lucius muttered something indecipherable under his breath, his brow furrowing slightly at the mention of the Minister''s wife. After a moment''s hesitation, Narcissa raised a subject that had been weighing on her mind.

    "There are quite a few notable individuals aboard the train, Lucius," She said carefully. "Perhaps we should to take advantage of the opportunity towork and strengthen our connections?"

    As a businessman, Lucius was keenly aware of the crucial role connections and rtionships yed in the pursuit of profit and power. Once, not so very long ago, he would have leaped at such an opportunity, working his calcted charm on all the right people, quietly building alliances and gathering potentially valuable tidbits of information.

    But today, faced with his wife''s suggestion, Lucius shook his head. He was in no mood, of course. Where once he would have walked into Hogwarts with all the casual arrogance of a king surveying hisnd, today he could onlye after receiving an invitation like an unwanted guest.

    Lucius''s bad mood lingered like a cloud over him as the train atst shuddered to a halt and he stepped onto the tform, only to stop short in surprise at the sight that greeted him. Hogsmeade Station had been transformed, the quaint but rather dpidated building of his memory had been renovated and expanded.

    Cheerful wee banners fluttered in the crisp Hignd breeze. Artfully arranged flower baskets added a touch of warmth and whimsy to the station, their fragrant blooms perfuming the air with the sweet scent of spring.

    But it was not the beautifying enhancements that captured Lucius''s attention. As he surveyed the tform, his eyes quickly discerned the presence of a weingmittee dispatched by the school, a team of fresh-faced young wizards and witches.

    This soured Lucius'' mood a bit. In his view, this represented ack of importance. When he spotted his son Draco among the young wizards, his brows shot up.

    "Draco!" Narcissa called out, her voice filled with pride and affection as she and Lucius made their way towards their son.

    Draco, however, remained stoically at his post, his gaze fixed straight ahead as he seriously ignored his parents'' approach. When Narcissa reached his side, her face burning with pleasure at seeing him in such good spirits, he acknowledged her presence with a brief nod.

    "Why are you here--"

    "I''m here on official business, Mother," he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and clipped. "I have duties to attend to."

    Lucius, meanwhile, had turned his attention to the other young wizards and witches assembled on the tform, his eyes narrowed as they came to rest on a boy with a distinctive scar on his face. After a moment, he withdrew his prating gaze and focused once more on his son.

    "All of this was arranged by Watson?"

    Before Draco could voice a response, Lucius''s attention was diverted by the arrival of Mrs. Fudge and Madam Bones, who strolled past the Malfoys deep in conversation. Mrs. Fudge, her eyes wide with wonder, eximed over the changes that had taken ce since herst visit to Hogwarts.

    "Oh, it''s been ages since I wasst here!" She said, her voice trembling with emotion. "And to think, Professor Dumbledore even arranged for carriages to transport us to the castle. How marvelous! I remember in the old days, we had to walk the entire way. If we were lucky, a kind viger might offer us a ride part of the way."

    "Dumbledore has always been a thoughtful and considerate host," Madam Bones, her expression one of quiet amusement, shook her head slightly. "But I rather suspect that the bulk of the credit for today''s arrangements belongs to someone else."

    A carriage bearing the crest of St. Mungo''s Hospital for Magical Mdies and Injuries rattled past, its upants - a team of healers and mediwizards - settling in for the short journey to the castle. A trio of young wizards, their faces filled with expressions of grim determination, immediately followed alongside the carriage, their wands at the ready to provide an escort.

    After the carriage drove away, the goblin leader Barnah shifted his gaze from this scene to the antennas erected on the distant mountaintop and a glimmer of amusement shined through his cloudy eyes.

    Nearby, a middle-aged wizard and his daughter were engaged in a lively discussion as they prepared to board their own carriage. The young woman, a striking beauty with glossy dark hair and sparkling eyes, gazed up at her father with undisguised admiration.

    "Papa, how did you manage to secure us an invitation?" She asked, her voice breathless with excitement. "I had no idea you had connections at Hogwarts!"

    The wizard, puffing up his chest with pride, coughed lightly into his fist before responding.

    "Don''t forget, Beatrice," He said, his voice dripping with affected sternness, "we are still one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The Fawleys may not have the same influence they once did, but our name still carries weight in certain circles." He paused and a sly smile appeared on his lips. "Ahem, and of course, it doesn''t hurt that I have a long-standing friendship with Mr. Watson."

    As the Fawleys disappeared into their carriage, Harry stood watching from a inconspicuous distance, his brow furrowed in concentration. He always felt this man seemed a bit familiar.

    "Grandpa, will I get to see Mr. Watson soon?"

    A few feet away, a energetic young boy tugged at his grandfather''s sleeve, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Do you think he''ll still remember saving me before?"

    Vipor Dreghorn smiled gently down at his grandson, his old face softening with affection. "I''m sure he will, Ludwig,"

    But even as he spoke, his eyes were drawn irresistibly toward the looming silhouette of Hogwarts castle, and his expression turnedplex.

    One carriage after another slowly departed Hogsmeade station under the escort of young wizards. Narcissa lifted the curtain and watched her son following closely beside the carriage, eyes full of pity.

    "Draco" She called out, her voice soft and persuading, e inside and sit with us. There''s room for the Greengrass and Parkinson girls as well. There''s no need for you to walk all the way to the castle. It''s silly to expect such a thing of you!"

    "I''m carrying out an escort mission, Mother. You can''t let me be aughingstock--"

    Narcissa sat in her seat with a sigh, recognizing the futility of arguing with her son when he was in such a disobedient mood. Beside her, Lucius watched the exchange with an inscrutable expression, his pale eyes glittering in the dim light of the carriage.

    Suddenly, a movement in the bushes caught Draco''s attention, and before long his wand was in his hand. With a sharp, precise flick of his wrist, he sent a jet of ck energy streaking towards the source of the disturbance.

    A momentter, a massive viper emerged from the bushes with a twitching fox in its jaws.

    Draco let out a huff of disappointment as he lowered his wand, the rush of adrenaline fading as quickly as it hade.

    "False rm," He said aloud out to Astoria, who had taken up a defensive position on the other side of the carriage. "Just a bloody snake, not an actual threat."

    The Malfoys in the carriage witnessed this scene. They looked at each other and could see the surprise in the other''s eyes.

    The speed and precision with which Draco had acted was impressive, especiallying from a boy who had once been more concerned with his ownfort than with honing his magical skills. It was a telling indication of just how much their son had changed during his time at Hogwarts, and it left them both feeling strangely unsettled.

    Narcissa no longer tried to persuade Draco to board. She looked at the castle growing distinct amidst the towering woods and said in a toneced withplex emotions,

    "Hogwarts has finally be somewhat presentable, hasn''t it, dear?"

    <em>''What are you trying to do, Bryan Watson?''</em>

    Lucius was not as happy as he imagined he would be. Through the curtain, he watched his son with a solemn face and his heart was filled with worries.

    <em>''Will theree a day, Draco, when we must face off on the battlefield?''</em>

    <em><strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong></em>

 0564 Choices (Big Chapter)

    0564 Choices (Big Chapter)

    The stadium for the Triwizard Tournament, while impressive in its own right, paled inparison to the grandeur and magnificence of the Quidditch World Cup finals held earlier that summer.

    After all, thetter was organized and funded by the Ministry of Magic and had used nearly all the resources avable to British wizarding society to create a truly awe-inspiring spectacle. In contrast, the Triwizard Tournament stadium was the product of Bryan''s efforts alone, without the backing of any government institution.

    Despite this disparity in resources, the Triwizard Tournament stadium was by no meanscking. Bryan had put forth a tremendous effort to ensure that every aspect of the venue was of the highest quality.

    Moreover, what the Triwizard Tournament may havecked in scale, it more than made up for in the prestige of its attendees. While no Ministers of Magic from any country were present in person, the event still had an impressive guest list.

    The judges'' panel included Ludo Bagman and Barty Crouch from the Ministry, as well as Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Even Mrs. Fudge, wife of the Minister himself, was in attendance to show her support for Hogwarts.

    But perhaps the most remarkable presence was that of Gerson Barnah, the president of Gringotts World Bank and leader of the goblin nation. Barnah, who had not been seen in public for nearly half a century, also attended the event in person, perhaps both for the goblins'' business and to support his ''friend'', Bryan Watson.

    Not to mention, the event also gathered the chairman and vice-chairmen of the International Confederation of Wizards: Albus Dumbledore, Vipor Dreghorn, and Bryan, who also held the title of vice-chairman.

    Kakus Fawley, who could be considered a magnate in the underground world of Magical Britain and held a pivotal position in the shadowed world of the entire European magicalmunity, was also present at the scene.

    Sitting in the section filled with pure-blood wizard families, Lucius raised his head and watched Kakus Fawley chatting amicably with Bryan Watson. His face turned pale with hatred, and he clenched his jaw tightly. He finally figured out how Bryan had seen through the grand stunt he had created at the Quidditch World Cup to please the Dark Lord, whose return was possibly imminent.

    However, looking at the wizards who held pivotal positions in their respective fields, enjoying the best spectator seats near the judges'' area, Lucius was also secretly shocked. Objectively speaking, even Fudge did not have the power to bring so many people to Hogwarts simultaneously to watch the Triwizard Tournament. Bryan Watson''s secretly umted connections were astonishing.

    Of course, Lucius also understood that Dumbledore''s influence could not be ignored either. Staring at the old and young faces standing side by side, both with equally tall figures, Dumbledore and Watson, Lucius''s unwavering gaze became even more determined.

    Today, the sun was shining brightly, and not a single cloud could be seen. Otherwise, given Bryan''s sometimes stubborn personality, if the weather did not cooperate, he was very likely to fly up to the sky and use magic to shatter those rain clouds before he would give up.

    However, at the end of November, it was almost impossible to enjoy warm andfortable sunshine at Hogwarts. The cold wind wandering in the deste mountains was still biting. Fortunately, Bryan had also considered this in advance. To provide everyone with afortable environment, all the winds blowing into the stadium were gentle and warm.

    Thepetition was scheduled for the afternoon. The guests who came to watch obviously could not swarm into the Great Hall of Hogwarts to enjoy lunch. Although none of them came for food and drink, they couldn''t be left hungry while expressing their appreciation for Hogwarts.

    Therefore, when it was time for the meal, the young wizards running along the aisles separating the spectator areas told everyone in a vigorous tone that there was also a menu hidden in the armrest space of their seats. As long as they spoke the name of the food they wanted to eat from the menu, the Hogwarts kitchen would immediately send the food to them.

    "A very interesting idea, isn''t it, Barty?" Ludo seemed to have already forgotten about the failed negotiation with Bryan earlier in the morning. He said to Barty, who still looked unwell, with a smile, "The next time the Ministry of Magic holds a big event, we can also learn from this idea. Let me think¡ª"

    The judges'' seating area was muchrger than the spectators'' seats, allowing for several long tables to be ced in front of the seats. Ludo tentatively shouted, "How about a steak?"

    <strong>BANG!</strong>

    After a slight explosive sound, a sizzling, oily, fragrant pan-fried steak appeared on the table in front of him, served on an iron te!

    "Remember to control your appetite, Ludo¡ª" Bryan said with a smile, "I forgot to add a bathroom when designing this building, so if you feel ufortable, you''ll have to run outside and find a way to deal with it yourself¡ª"

    The people around them let out kindughter, while the goblin Barnahh looked at the embarrassed Ludo, and his eyes gleamed with amusement.

    At this moment, a goblin quickly ran out of the small room behind the judges'' seats. Its eyes hesitated for a second on the backs of Watson and Barnah, but it still ran to Barnah''s side and whispered for a while.

    "The viewing equipment we have installed in each section has been fully tested. Do you think it''s¡ª"

    "Oh, most certainly," Bryan stood up with a smile, and the people beside him, including Dumbledore, knew what he was going to do. So, one by one, they all looked at therge viewing screen with great interest.

    Bryan immediately left his seat and turned to walk into the broadcasting room. After a slight tremor, several brilliant blue lights suddenly shed across the ck screen that had been in a constant state of darkness. Then, under the curious gazes of hundreds of eyes, the frequency of the light on the screen flickered faster and faster. Finally, after a collective gasp, theplex terrain of thepetition field in the center of the stadium was finally projected onto the screen.

    "It''s amazing, Bryan--" Amelia, who had already learned about it in advance, eximed in admiration, "Your invention is very practical. If it can be widely--"

    Amelia stopped mid-sentence, obviously realizing that she should be careful not to say anything sensitive on such an asion.

    The sounds of admiration and amazement filled the entire stadium, especially in the area of the pure-blood wizard families. These family heads, who controlled key industries in all aspects of the wizarding world, without exception, realized the wide applicability of this invention. Even Lucius, who had ulterior motives, looked at the clear projected image on the opposite side, his eyes revealing a glimmer of excitement.

    Of course, not everyone expressed admiration for this technology that was being disyed to the world for the first time.

    At the bottom of the stadium, Moody, who was patrolling and inspecting the environment, uncontrobly revealed a hint of unease when he saw his own figure projected in a corner of the screen, as well as the omniocrs dancing nimbly in mid-air. He turned his head to look at Bryan Watson, who was chatting andughing with many dignitaries on the high tform. His intact blue eye showed a startled look!

    <strong>Buzz¡ª</strong>

    At this moment, the ground suddenly began to vibrate slightly. Amidst the gradually clear buzzing sound, the cheering voices of the young wizards became more and more evident.

    "Oh, my God, they''ve arrived¡ª"

    Bryan let out a small exmation of surprise.

    "Come on, Ludo, Barty, the champions are about to arrive. We still need to witness them choosing their opponents¡ª"

    Bryan, Ludo, and Barty lingered patiently on the bustling transfer tform, enveloped by the frenzied mor of the swarming young wizards who upied every passable space. The students from the physical education ss, tasked with maintaining order amidst the chaotic sea of spectators, strained their voices to the limit, their shouts were barely audible above the roaring crowd as they frantically attempted to herd the excited young wizards towards their designated seating areas.

    The palpable excitement emanating from the children was hardly surprising, given the breathtaking sight that greeted them upon entering the stadium - the intricately designedplex terrain of the central arena, with an enormous screen suspended high above capturing and magnifying every detail of the venue.

    In short, the already lively atmosphere in the stadium was pushed to another climax by these children. It seemed that with just a spark, the cheers could ignite the entire stadium.

    "I dare say, people will definitely remember this day, Bryan!" Ludo eximed, his voice trembling with barely contained excitement as his eyes took in the sea of eager, anticipation-filled faces.

    "We mustn''t dally, Bryan, keep a watchful eye on the time--" Barty Crouch interjected impatiently.

    The trio descended to the circr passage on the ground floor. As they approached, Bryan noticed the figure of Moody, as a security officer, standing guard before the railing. Moody''s gaze was fixed upon the flickering screen and the numerous omniocrs with wings hovering in mid-air, seemingly oblivious to the presence of the three men behind him.

    This was extremely unusual.

    "Is all well, stor? No cause for concern, I trust?" Bryan inquired, his voice calm as he stopped abruptly behind Moody, turning to face him with a searching gaze.

    "What?" Moody spun around, startled by the unexpected interruption. Upon recognizing Bryan, the magical eye within his socket automatically shifted to the side. For a few moments, Moody appeared stunned, his mind struggling to process the sudden intrusion, before finally regaining hisposure.

    "Ah, yes, all is well, Bryan. Just lost in thought, pondering your innovative setup. It''s nothing to worry about," Moody reassured, his gruff voice tinged with a hint of distraction. "If you''ll excuse me, I must check on Charlie Weasley. We can''t afford any mishaps, not now!"

    With that, Moody hastily fled into the passage leading to the temporary confinement of the dragons. Bryan watched him go as his purple eyes flickered with an inscrutable emotion.

    Barty''s insistent urging spurred Bryan into motion once more, and he led the small group towards a tent located just outside the main venue. This tent also connected the outside with the safety passages inside the arena. Bryan lifted the heavy curtain, and the three men stepped inside, one after the other.

    Within the tent, the air was filled with a soothing warmth, a stark contrast to the biting chill of the world outside and there were not many people here. A few officials from the Department of Magical Games and Sports were waiting here to guide the champions into the arena when the time came.

    In addition, the protagonists of this Triwizard Tournament, the three champions, were each resting on one side of the tent. Professor McGonagall was also there,forting Hermione.

    In thest few days, Bryan had to deal with countless things and had no time to pay attention to the mental state of these kids who were about to be famous.

    Bryan''s gaze first fell upon Fleur whose eyes had locked onto him the moment he entered. Yet, in this moment, the amorous glimmer that had once always twirled in her eyes was noticeably absent, reced by a ssy, shocked expression after being thoroughly frightened. Moreover, Bryan discovered that the hint of pink on Fleur''s originally snow-white skin was gone, vividly interpreting what it means to be as pale as snow.

    In contrast, Krum was much calmer. After ncing at Bryan, he lowered his head and stared gloomily at his open hands, his fingertips trembling slightly. Cedric seemed to want to stand up and greet Bryan, but when he propped his arms on the bench to forcefully lift himself up, he failed, which made him a little embarrassed, so he dared not move again.

    And the youngest champion in this tournament - Hermione.

    Hermione had her mouth slightly open, her eyes wide and ssy with a mix of confusion and helplessness. When she noticed Bryan walking in, the hollow look in her eyes revealed a pleading look. She tightly grasped Professor McGonagall''s hand with one of her own. Although Professor McGonagall had beenforting her, judging from the situation, she probably didn''t take in a single word.

    The air was filled with a sense of tension, especially when the champions discovered that Bryan and the two officials from the British Ministry of Magic had entered. This tension reached its peak, and Bryan was even worried that these champions would burst into tears at any moment.

    "Is it time, Bryan--" Professor McGonagall''s voice was shaky, and she looked a little more nervous than Hermione.

    Bryan''s gaze swept over the four champions. When he found that the champions had all put on thepetition uniforms he provided in ordance with the rules, he nodded with satisfaction. He heard Professor McGonagall''s question and said with a smile,

    "We still have to wait a little longer!"

    Then, Bryan turned around to face Ludo and Barty,

    "So, gentlemen, which of you will do the honors?"

    "Ah, this is your home turf, Bryan, you do it!" Ludo responded, his jovial tone at odds with the solemnity of the asion.

    Bryan''s gaze shifted to Barty Crouch, seeking his input, but the man simply nodded, his expression listless and detached.

    "Very well then," Bryan acquiesced, his voice attracting the attention of all present. "Gentlemen,dies, if you would be so kind as to gather before me."

    At his words, the champions began to move, their steps sluggish with anxiety as they approached the center of the tent. A member of the staff insightfully handed a purple small silk bag to Bryan.

    The kids all stared at the bag in Bryan''s hand at the same time. Their expressions were surprisingly consistent - panic, rejection, unwillingness to face it.

    "Rx everyone, feel free to show your courage, strength and wisdom. I can assure you that no one will die miserably here today--"

    Bryan said humorously. Ludo was amused andughed holding his belly, but none of the champions showed a trace of relief on their faces, and Professor McGonagall red at him fiercely.

    <strong><em>Ahem--</em></strong>

    Bryan coughed awkwardly a couple of times. Then, he flicked out his wand from his sleeve to unlock the magic on the silk bag, while gripping the mouth of the bag with the other hand,

    "It''s quite simple," The shouts from the arena outside were surging and Bryan knew he had to hurry. He smiled at the champions and said,

    "This bag contains models of a few things you''ll need to wrangle withter. You need to snatch a golden egg from them. That golden egg is put together with normal eggs, it''s very obvious, you''ll know it when you see it. So, any questions?"

    It''s indeed snatching eggs from dragons, this thought shed through Hermione''s muddled mind. Then, before her thoughts could be muddled again, Bryan had already handed that terrible purple bag to her.

    "I think there should be no objection to letting our youngest champion choose first. Come now, Miss Granger, your fate rests in your hands--"

    Hermione''s lips, chapped and raw from the constant worrying were pressed together in a thin line. Her mind was still repeatedly memorizing the few spells she had practiced these days, until Bryan urged her again. Only then did shee back to her senses.

    She found that everyone''s eyes were on her, and she also felt her heart beating wildly in her chest, so much so that her chest was aching with asional pain.

    Let fate decide, she thought, steeling herself as she plunged her hand into the depths of the bag.

    <strong>tter--</strong>

    A soft tter, barely audible over the howling wind that whipped around the tent, echoed from somewhere outside, the sound too faint to draw the attention of those gathered within. In that same instant, unseen by any eye, a tiny bolt of lightning arced through the inky depths of the bag, guiding one of the four miniature models into Hermione''s waiting palm with precision.

    Hermione subconsciously retracted her hand, and then her choice was revealed to everyone.

    "Ah, the Chinese Fireball" Ludo eximed, his initial excitement giving way to a flicker of suspicion as he turned to Bryan. "It seems you''ve drawn the fourth slot, my dear."

    <em>''To prevent from losing, changed the order¡ª''</em>

    Bryan''s expressionless gaze withdrew from the corner of the tent. Just now, a short, dark shadow shed by there.

    "Is that so--"

    Ludo mumbled something that only he could hear. Then, he seemed to understand something. The suspicion in his eyes vanished when he looked at Bryan. He looked at Hermione, and his cheeks were flushed due to excitement, and his eyes burst with a sharp glow!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 0565 Surprises

    0565 Surprises

    After Hermione, it was Fleur''s turn. With a trembling hand, she reached into the depths of the bag, feeling the miniature dragon figurines squirming in her fingers. Her heart pounded in her chest as she grasped one and carefully withdrew it. As she opened her palm, she saw the small green dragon perched there - the Welsh Green.

    An immense wave of relief crashed over Fleur and she let out the breath she had been holding in a huge sigh. Although facing a dragon was still frightening, at least she knew she wouldn''t have to be the first champion to enter the arena. That dubious honor went to one of her malepetitors.

    Unfortunately, neither Krum nor Cedric were as lucky in their draws. Krum pulled out the third slot, but found himself matched up against the most vicious and ferocious of the four dragons - the Hungarian Horntail.

    Cedric, on the other hand, would have to battle the Swedish Short-Snout right out of the gate as the first champion.

    No sooner had the champions seen their fate than two tournament staff members sprinted out of the tent, clutching the parchment recording the results of the draw. One dashed off to inform the dragon handlers of the order the beasts should be brought into the rocky arena. The other hurried over to the broadcast booth to deliver the news to thementators so they could share it with the eager crowd.

    "Alright, champions, you have just a few short minutes to collect yourselves and make any final adjustments to your strategy," Bryan said calmly. "When you hear the whistle, follow the directions of the tournament staff and make your way through the outside tunnel. Understood?"

    The four youngpetitors nodded stiffly, their faces etched with lines of tension and worry, indicating they understood.

    There was nothing more for Bryan to say. The rest depended on their own preparations. Giving them a brisk nod, he turned to exit the tent.

    But before he could take more than a step, Fleur suddenly broke away from the cluster of champions. She rushed toward him, her clear blue eyes flickering with a tempest of emotions - fear, doubt, determination. When she spoke, her voice quivered and her words tumbled out in a breathless gush.

    "What if... what if something goes wrong? What if the dragons break free of their restraints and rampage out of control?"

    Bryan met her anxious gaze, wanting to offer reassurance but knew he couldn''t indulge the champions or give them false confidence. After all they had to be prepared for the danger they faced.

    "Professor Dumbledore and I will do everything in our power to control the situation and prevent any tragedies, Miss Dcour," He said solemnly. "But you, and all of you-"

    He raised his voice slightly and looked around at the other three champions, "must understand and ept that the tasks of the Triwizard Tournament are inherently dangerous. I wish I could promise you''ll emergepletely unscathed, but that''s simply not realistic. Sustaining some injuries, even serious ones, may be unavoidable. In the end, once you step into that arena, you''ll have to rely on your own skills, instincts, and determination to ovee the obstacles in your path."

    He hadn''t wanted to dampen their spirits, but he felt it was necessary to give that sobering reminder of what they were up against.

    Fleur paled slightly and took a step back, but lifted her chin, and gave him a slight nod.

    Breathing a small sigh, Bryan exited the tent, with Ludo and Barty trailing behind him.

    The three men began ascending the stairs to the tall circr viewing tform that surrounded the arena below. But halfway up, Bryan halted abruptly.

    "Ludo, Barty - go on ahead and get settled. I''m going to check in with Charlie and the other dragon handlers one more time. I''m worried something unexpected might happen when the dragons enter the arena."

    Barty dipped his head in acknowledgment and continued climbing without pause. But Ludo lingered for a moment, watching Bryan''s tall figure striding back down the stairs and towards the tunnel leading outside. A pleasant smile appeared at one corner of his mouth, but after a moment he turned and rushed after Barty.

    Therge scoreboard screen at one end of the screen shimmered and dissolved into a new image. Four lines of brightly colored text appeared, one after the other:

    <strong>CEDRIC DIGGORY (<em>HOGWARTS</em>) vs SWEDISH SHORT-SNOUT</strong>

    <strong>FLEUR DELACOUR (<em>BEAUXBATONS</em>) vs WELSH GREEN</strong>

    <strong>VIKTOR KRUM (<em>DURMSTRANG</em>) vs HUNGARIAN HORNTAIL</strong>

    <strong>HERMIONE GRANGER (<em>HOGWARTS</em>) vs CHINESE FIREBALL</strong>

    The greatest of efforts had been made to keep the details of the tournament tasks a closely guarded secret from anyone not directly involved in the nning. Until this very moment, neither the eager students filling the stands nor the visiting bigwigs in the top box had the slightest hint of the nature of the challenge their champions would be facing.

    When the vibrant text materialized on the screen, a hush fell over the loud crowd, leaving the stadium eerily silent for a few long heartbeats. Then, all at once, a roar of noise erupted from the section at the base of the stands where the youngest students were gathered. Shouts, cheers, and apuse rippled through the assembled mass of spectators like a wave crashing onto a beach during a storm.

    "Dragons! It''s dragons! This is so cool. I can''t believe they dared to do this!" shouted one onlooker, leaping up in excitement.

    The youthful Gryffindors in particr were beside themselves. Seamus leapt up from his seat, identally toppling a full goblet of pumpkin juice in the process and sending a mini flood of orange liquid flowing across the tabletop. But he paid the spill no mind, cupping his hands around his mouth as he screamed himself hoarse, his face glowing red with exhration.

    All around him, his housemates reacted simrly, almostpeting to see who could cheer, whistle and stomp their feet the loudest to express their excitement and nervous anticipation for the spectacle about to unfold.

    Of course, there were a few exceptions to the celebrations.

    Neville, who hadn''t been lucky enough to witness the Quidditch World Cup in person over the summer and experience that unparalleled energy and enthusiasm, looked utterly overwhelmed by the near-pandemonium breaking out around him. But when he saw the eye-catching lines on the big screen, his whole body froze as if he had been hit by a Stunning Spell, and he remained frozen in ce, gripping the edge of the bench.

    Next to him, Ron hadn''t fared much better. Thoroughly drenched by the flood of pumpkin juice Seamus had released, Ron gaped open-mouthed at the giant scoreboard, apparently rendered temporarily mute with shock. But after a few seconds, he leapt up.

    He hadn''t misheard that night. The tournament organizers were really making the champions face dragons.

    "Gerroff, out of my way!" he roared, frantically shoving at a lump of younger students blocking the aisle. "I need to check on, make sure she''s alright! Bloody hell, I still can''t believe they''re making her battle a dragon, what are they thinking?!"

    But the others, all caught up in the jubnt emotions, paid no attention to him or made way for him. After a few futile attempts to force his way through the crowd, just as desperation rose inside him, Ron''s frantic gaze suddenly spotted Harry, who was also staring at the big screen with a grim expression, in the aisle separating the viewing areas.

    "HARRY!" Ron roared, waving his arms wildly to get his attention. "Did you hear that? How is Hermione now? Has the Ministry gone mad? They''re really making her fight dragons!"

    Professor Watson had instructed the physical education students to maintain order at the tournament venue. They had to stay vignt for any overexcited spectators acting out, as the arena was packed with students and important figures from the wizarding world. But when Hermione''s name appeared on the tournament screen, Harry couldn''t help his face darkening.

    Amidst the surging cheers, Harry vaguely heard someone calling his name, but his attention was suddenly captured by an unexpected flicker of movement below.

    Narrowing his eyes, he peered down intently at the tform at the base of the stands. To his astonishment, he spotted a furry ck shape crouched there - an enormous ck shadow was poking its head out to look right up at him, and its front paws were waving madly.

    Harry''s eyes twitched fiercely. He almost thought he was seeing things, but after rubbing his eyes, the shadow was still there, and was even clearer than before.

    Excitement and relief surged through Harry washing away the dread that had been squeezing his heart. Without a second thought about the earlier indistinct voice and the orders to remain at his post, Harry turned and sprinted down the aisle.

    The ck shadow, realizing it had sessfully caught Harry''s attention, opened its mouth in a grin, swished its tail, and withdrew its head out of sight.

    Arge dog scurried happily through the tunnel, running all the way outside the stadium. Seeing no one around, it stopped and turned to wait for the pursuing Harry.

    "Sirius!"

    Harry chased after him, panting. The huge temperature difference between inside and outside the stadium made him shiver, but he ignored it. Instead, he stared in surprise at the big ck dog in front of him, almost as tall as himself.

    "Sirius! I can''t believe it''s really you! What are you doing here? And why are you transformed where anyone could see you?"

    In a shimmer of magic, the shaggy ck fur seemed to melt away, and suddenly a beaming Sirius was standing before Harry in the flesh.

    "Why, I came to watch the tournament, of course!" Sirius said, reaching out to p a hand on Harry''s shoulder. He turned his head to peer cautiously back down the tunnel for a moment before continuing.

    "Fudge has been getting a lot of leave applicationstely. Everyone wants to go to Diagon Alley to watch the live broadcast. Oh, you probably don''t know yet. The goblins have set up a viewing area in Diagon Alley. For 20 Galleons, you can go in and watch the tournament live. Because of the flood of applications, I heard Fudge got so fed up he started chucking theters'' requests straight in the rubbish bin without even reading ''em!"

    Mischief sparkled in Sirius'' gray eyes as he tossed his long dark hair back from his face with a roar ofughter.

    "So, I figured, why settle for watching the action secondhand in Diagon Alley with everyone else when I coulde see it in person? I just fed ol'' Scrimgeour some poppycock about having an important mission, transformed, and secretly snuck out! Of course, I can''t show my face in front of Madam Bones, Barty, and Ludo, or my cover would be blown!"

    The excitement on Sirius'' face was just like a young wizard who had sessfully skipped ss and Harry grinned too.

    But the smile soon faded as Sirius leaned a shoulder against the red metal rod supporting the stands, his expression sobering. "But never mind my sneaking around - the Champions are really having to battle dragons, eh? Awfully big ask of a handful of teenagers, if you ask me. Is Hermione ready for this?"

    "I wish I knew," Harry admitted heavily, digging the toe of his trainer into the dirt. "I mean, we found out ahead of time thanks to Hagrid, so it''s not aplete shock. And we helped Hermione prepare as much as we could. But with something like this, there''s only so much you can do, y''know? And I don''t know if she''s had any time for extra practice this morning. Professor Watson sent us off to Hogsmeade Station first thing in the morning, so I didn''t even see her at breakfast... Did you spot her when you came in?"

    "Actually," Sirius said, his brow creasing thoughtfully, "when I was sneaking over here, I spotted a house-elf running over from that direction in a fluster. Maybe she''s over there. We can go take a look."

    Before Harry could reply, a thunderous roar suddenly exploded from inside the arena. A split secondter, Ludo Bagman''s magically amplified voice boomed out from inside the arena.

    "Ladies and gentlemen, the wait is over! The day you''ve all been anxiously awaiting has finally arrived! In mere moments, the first task of the Triwizard Tournament will begin! Now, put your hands together and show your support for our first brave champion... CEDRIC DIGGORY OF HOGWARTS!"

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

 0566 Cedricâ€™s Chance

    0566 Cedric¡¯s Chance

    As Charlie and his mates cautiously led the Swedish Short-Snout dragon onto the arena, the creature''s immense size became strikingly apparent. Standing several stories high, its magnificent silver-blue scales each one asrge as a dinner te glinted in the sunlight. The dragon''s powerful legs, thick as tree trunks, dug into the sandy ground with each step, leaving deep imprints.

    The moment the dragon came into view, the packed spectator stands erupted in a collective gasp of astonishment and fear. Thousands of widened eyes were fixed on the ferocious-looking beast. Murmurs rippled through the audience as they marveled at the dragon''s size and discussed the uing spectacle.

    "Look, it''s Charlie!"

    Amidst the excited buzzing of the crowd, Fred''s shout rang out in clear dissatisfaction. "I can''t believe it! He knew all along that the first task involved dragons, and he didn''t breathe a word to us!"

    "Ignore him, Fred. Let''s just hope Cedric manages tost more than ten minutes out there," George chimed in, craning his neck to get a better view of his brother, and a mischievous grin spread across his face despite his concern. "Although, I wouldn''t bet on that pretty face of hising out of this unscathed!"

    In the arena, Charlie and his team took advantage of the Swedish Short-Snout''s temporarily dazed state, a result of the potent Sleeping Draught they had fed earlier. With the utmost caution, Charlie meticulously rechecked the sturdy, magically-reinforced chains secured around the dragon''s neck, ensuring there would be no chance of the creature breaking free.

    Once satisfied that all was in order, he swiftly took the gleaming golden egg from hispanion''s hands and deftly ced it among the genuine, mottled dragon eggs nestled at the beast''s feet. Aware of the dragon''s imminent awakening, Charlie hastily signaled to his team, urging them to make a swift and stealthy escape.

    The tense scene was clearly projected on the magical screen, allowing the audience to witness the moment in vivid detail. Quite a few spectators found the dragon handlers'' hurried retreat ratherical, and they chuckled softly at their almostically exaggerated movements as they tiptoed away from the rousing Dragon.

    The arena itself was designed with the utmost concern for safety. Thick, teal stone bs, each one imbued with powerful protective charms, formed an imprable barrier around the perimeter. The spectator stands were high above the arena floor, providing a clear view of the action while keeping the audience at a safe distance.

    However, most found that observing the events through the screens was a far more convenient and detailed experience than attempting to follow the action directly.

    On the screen, the audience watched as the Swedish Short-Snout''s hazy, unfocused eyes gradually regained their rity. The dragon slowly rose to its full height, its massive wings unfurling to stretch out the hooks from its sleep.

    As it stood, it let out a bone-rattling snort, inadvertently releasing a jet of blindingly bright blue mes that engulfed a sizable rock some dozen foot away. The intense heat of the dragon''s fiery breath caused the solid stone to rapidly soften and melt, like wax exposed to a blowtorch. Streams of molten rock dripped down the boulder''s sides, pooling on the ground below in a mesmerizing disy of the dragon''s raw, unrestrained power.

    The magical screen gave a fascinating close-up of the smoldering remains of the rock, offering those in the audience who were less familiar with dragons a visceral, almost terrifyingly tangible understanding of the overwhelming might possessed by these legendary creatures.

    In the stands, Professor McGonagall noticed Professor Sprout''s shoulders trembling slightly, and her face was etched with lines of worry and anxiety.

    Reaching out aforting hand, McGonagall gently patted her back in an attempt to soothe her tense nerves. "Don''t worry, Pomona. I''m certain everything will be just fine. We all know how outstanding Cedric is!"

    Despite her reassuring words, there was an unmistakable quaver in McGonagall''s voice, revealing her own carefully hidden uneasiness.

    Down in the arena, the Swedish Short-Snout had finally be fully aware of its surroundings and its eyes wandered over the thousands of humans encircling it from above.

    In a spontaneous try for freedom, the dragon''s massive wings began to p with increasing speed and force, whipping up swirling clouds of dust and debris that momentarily obscured it from view. The dragon pressed against the chains binding it, desperately seeking to escape from the restrictions of the arena, but the magically-reinforced restraints held it back.

    As the realization that it was well and truly trapped sank in, the Swedish Short-Snout''s demeanor shifted from panicked to defensive. Thick, pungent smoke began to swirl from its ring nostrils as it assessed the situation, preparing to protect its eggs at any cost. It nimbly folded its wings around itself, forming a protective cocoon thatpletely enveloped its own body and the eggs at its feet, shielding them from any potential threats.

    The audience was so utterly captivated by the dragon''s every move that they almost failed to notice the arrival of the first champion on the scene, and would have missed it entirely if not for the timely interjection of Bagman''s magically amplified voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.

    "Ladies and gentlemen," Bagman boomed, his voice brimming with barely contained excitement, "let''s hear a rousing round of apuse for the firstpetitor, Hogwarts'' very own Cedric Diggory! Here''s hoping he''s able to wow us all with a truly spectacr performance!"

    Bagman''s words helped to firmly redirect the audience''s collective gaze from the dragon and back to the arena floor, where they scanned the boulder-scattered area for any sign of Cedric. However, inparison to the dragon''s imposing presence, Cedric was quite inconspicuous, and from their vantage point, the audience could only spot a figure that seemed norger than a matchstick, making it impossible to discern any meaningful details.

    Fortunately, several magical omniocrs swooped in, hovering around Cedric and projecting close-up images of his face onto therge screens, finally giving the audience a clear view of his facial expressions - a detail many found to be of particr interest.

    The dragon had been ced at the foot of a towering artificial mountain that was at the center of the arena. In contrast, Cedric stood at the base of aparatively small slope, his wand gripped tightly in his white-knuckled hand as he remained absolutely motionless, as if he''d been petrified on the spot.

    From his position, Cedric had a clear view of the dragon, sitting menacingly beneath the summit''s massive boulder. It was, without question, thergest and most terrifying creature he had everid eyes upon.

    Even from a distance of over a thousand feet, Cedric could feel the raw, overwhelming power emanating from the beast. A shudder ran down his spine as the grim realization hit him: one wrong move, one tiny mistake, and this dragon could easily rip him to shreds without a second thought.

    As the true start of thepetition was signaled, an eerie silence descended upon the stadium. Every single spectator was on the edge of their seat, eyes glued to Cedric''s motionless form, waiting to see what he would do to ovee the frightening obstacle before him.

    Yet Cedric himself was in no state to even begin contemting a n of action. His mind was reeling, and his thoughts were drowned out by a deafening buzzing that made it nigh impossible for him to think clearly.

    After all, he''d only learned the true nature of the first task a few days ago which had left him stuck in a constant state of overwhelming doubt and all-consuming fear, with little time toe to terms with the immense challenge he faced and formte a viable strategy.

    Up in the stands, Cho Chang, who had been tasked with maintaining order among the spectators, found herself unable to bear the sight of Cedric facing such danger. She covered her eyes with trembling hands, her heart pounding in her throat as she silently prayed for his safety.

    Meanwhile, in a small, hastily constructed building not far from Diagon Alley''s bustlingmercial district, Amos and his wife, sat huddled together with their hands sped tightly and faces etched with lines of worry.

    "Well, it appears our brave Mr. Diggory may need a moment to collect himself and adapt to the situation at hand," Bagman''s voice suddenly rang out across the arena once more, his tone one of barely contained amusement, as if he found Cedric''s obvious struggle to be a source of great entertainment.

    However, no sooner had the words left Bagman''s lips than Cedric, who had been standing stock-still for several minutes, finally moved into action.

    His movements were stiff and awkward, his limbs jerking like those of a poorly-controlled puppet as he began to climb the slope before him. Yet even in his fear-muddled state, Cedric had the presence of mind to make an effort to conceal himself, crouching low to the ground and using the path between the boulders that dotted the hillside as cover as he slowly made his way upward.

    The silence that nketed the stadium was so absolute, one could have heard a single pin drop onto the arena floor. Yet not a single soul dared tough or even crack a smile at Cedric''s clumsy, uncoordinated scrambling. After all, the fact that he had managed to ovee the paralyzing terror that had initially rooted him to the spot and was now actively trying to confront the challenge head-on was a testament to his courage and determination.

    "Well, would you look at that! It seems Mr. Diggory has managed to conquer his initial bout of nerves and is now making a valiant attempt to approach the dragon!" Bagman roared, sounding positively giddy with excitement. "Let''s all wait and see what strategy he''ll employ to emerge victorious!"

    For Cedric, the distance between his starting point and the waiting dragon seemed to stretch out into infinity - a huge chasm of roughly a quarter-mile, or around a thousand feet. It was, he realizedparable to the grueling length of the dung bomb dodging courses he''d been subjected to during his Physical Education sses.

    The difference was, while Cedric had eventually managed to master evading the dungbombs during those training exercises, the prospect of approaching the dragon made those challenges seem like child''s y inparison.

    By the time he was two hundred feet from the dragon, Cedric was drenched in sweat, his hair was stered to his forehead and his robes clinged ufortably to his sweat-slicked skin. He paused for a moment, pressing his back against the reassuringly solid surface of arge boulder and cautiously peeked around its edge to take note of his progress.

    His heart leapt into his throat as his gaze immediately fell upon the glint of the golden egg, nestled among the dragon''s own eggs. His eyes then flicked to the heavy chains encircling the Swedish Short-Snout''s neck, and he felt a brief flicker of relief at the knowledge that the dragon''s movements would be at least somewhat restricted.

    This was both good news and bad news for him.

    On one hand, the chains would ensure a bit of safety, providing him a buffer zone within which he could maneuver without fear of immediate retaliation from the dragon. However, this also meant that the Swedish Short-Snout would not stray too far from its eggs. He would also have no choice but to venture dangerously close if he hoped to have any chance of retrieving the golden egg.

    Steeling his nerves, Cedric pressed on, shuffling ever closer to the waiting dragon carefully. He took advantage of every gap in the Swedish Short-Snout''s vignt surveince of its surroundings, scurrying from one sheltering boulder to the next in a frantic attempt to close the gap between them.

    Two hundred feet... one hundred and fifty... one hundred...

    At this distance, Cedric could clearly feel the dragon''s majestic, powerful body. He could even see the ferocious fangs protruding from its mouth!

    "The time hase for Mr. Diggory to make his move!" Bagman, adept at capturing the moment, spoke up again. "Let''s see what he''s got up his sleeve!"

    Cedric ultimately stopped sixty feet from the Swedish Short-Snout. Everyone understood why he stopped there. Apart from the tower-like pir he was hiding on, there were no sufficientlyrge rocks nearby for him to hide.

    Up to now, the amount of activity wasn''t too great, but Cedric was already drenched in sweat and panting heavily. He leaned his back against the rock, and quietly turned his head to survey the surroundings.

    Unless you possess overwhelming power, never forget to familiarize yourself with the surrounding environment - this was Professor Watson''s teaching.

    The terrain at the hilltop was still rtively simple, a fact for which Cedric was immensely grateful. Apart from the huge artificial mountain protruding from the ground, the other three sides were dotted with small rocks on yellow soil. Perhaps to make it easier for champions to approach the dragon, the slope on his side was gentler, while the opposite side was much steeper.

    There is only one chance. As a champion, Cedric was keenly aware that if the dragon realized someone wanted to steal its egg, he would have no more opportunities!

    He was gauging the distance with intense focus, forgetting he was under the watchful eyes of thousands of wizards!

    Time seemed to freeze in the entire stadium. Everyone was waiting for Cedric to act. Perhaps influenced by this strange atmosphere, the Swedish Short-Snout''s rate of surveying its surroundings increased, and it started puffing out thick smoke full of sulfur from its nostrils!

    Under the gaze of the masses, Cedric finally took action. His wand poked out from behind the rock, pointing at a boulder a dozen foot away. Under the gust of wind that appeared out of thin air, the rock underwent aplex transformation. Finally, a Newfounnd dog appeared on thepetition screen!

    <strong>*******************************</strong>

    <strong>For More Chapters; /FicFrenzy</strong>

    The Novel will be updated first on this website. Come back and

    continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

 0567 Courage

    0567 Courage

    "Oh my!" Professor McGonagall trembled with excitement. "Cross-species transfiguration, a highly advanced and extraordinarily perfect form of transfiguration magic. If this were performed in my ssroom, I would not hesitate for a moment to award Cedric a well-deserved 20 points for his skill and ingenuity!"

    "Aha, what a delightfully clever little trick!" Bagmanmented happily, his jovial voice booming out over the arena as the tense atmosphere among the spectators eased slightly. "Our valiant first champion has finally taken decisive action. Oh, it''s not at all difficult to discern his cunning intention, now is it?"

    Just as Bagman had shrewdly observed, the massive Newfounnd dog that Cedric had transfigured from the boulder rushed out the very instant it gained mobility. However, rather than charging directly towards the Swedish Short-Snout dragon, the hound ran swiftly along a carefully considered arc, barking wildly as it headed towards the opposite side of the rocky slope.

    This clever Swedish Short-Snout had already set its keen sights on the newly transformed dog the moment the stone had shapeshifted. As the hound began its nned run, the dragon rose up from its crouching posture to stand at its full height.

    The Newfounnd dog was approximately the size of a young calf, but inparison to the towering, nearly three-story high Swedish Short-Snout, it appeared as nothing more than a tiny, insignificant dot against the dragon''s scaly body.

    The dragon refrained from immediately pouncing to tear the hound to shreds or annihting it with a scorching st of its dragon breath, and instead took a moment to shrewdly judge what exactly this audacious dog was trying to do.

    <strong>Woo! Woo!</strong>

    To be perfectly honest, the strange appearance of a dog''s high-pitched, insistent whimpering echoing through the stadium of the Triwizard Tournament was quite an amusing and interesting scene to witness.

    "Did you see that, everyone!" Bagman called happily, his amplified voice tinged with barely contained glee. "Cedric is having his hound provoke the ferocious dragon. He wants to lure the beast away, a very wise and calcted move on his part!"

    Just as Bagman had urately described, the hound came to an abrupt pause directly in front of Cedric. Boldly ignoring the huge size difference between its own body and the dragon, the dog decisively turned its head and barked wildly.

    The Short-Snout unfurled its massive, sail-sized wings with an audible snap. Already uneasy and highly irritable, the dragon was even further annoyed by the seemingly insignificant, yapping thing in front of him.

    A surging torrent of blue me gushed out of its ring nostrils on pure instinct, and the air in its vicinity was instantaneously scorched to an unbearable degree. Feeling the intense heat wave striking their faces, the audience eximed in unison, shock and awe mingling in their collective gasps!

    But much to everyone''s amazement, after the dazzling disy of blue mes - mes heavily imbued with the dragon''s deadly breath - dissipated into dissipating tendrils of smoke, the Newfounnd dog remained unscathed.

    The hound had deliberately put itself in a rtively safe location, cunningly out of reach of even the most intense st of the dragon''s fiery breath. And of course, since the dog was not a true animal of flesh-and-blood, but rather one transfigured from stone, it did not have to worry whatsoever about the devastating effects of the oppressive high temperature.

    The enraged Short-Snout angrily pawed at the rocky soil with its ws, creating deep furrows. Its pping wings stirred up a turbulent gust of wind that whipped across the arena. Its massive head swayed from side to side menacingly, as a low, thunder-like roar emerged from deep in its throat - a sound so spine-chilling that it caused everyone''s scalps to tingle with instinctual fear!

    But the core problem remained - this Swedish Short-Snout,ing from its native habitat in the remote mountains of northernmost Sweden, still stubbornly refused to abandon its eggs, despite the steadily increasing provocation.

    Although it was clearly attracted by Cedric''s barking hound, it simply would not leave the nest. This nned move of Cedric was obviously not proving as effective as he had hoped. So, the Newfounnd dog needed to resort to even more drastic measures.

    In a sudden, startling motion, the hound abruptly pounced forward several feet, then spun around to face the Short-Snout once again. Craning its neck, it cheekily turned its head to the side and boldly wiggled its buttocks at the irritated dragon in a universally recognized gesture of mockery.

    This daring, sassy trick worked like a charm, provoking an immediate response from the already enraged dragon. Dragons are universally renowned as highly intelligent magical creatures, immensely powerful and fiercely proud. How could such a majestic beast ever tolerate such a tant, taunting insult from what it perceived as a far inferior being?

    The amusedughter of the audience, entertained by the hound''s audacious antics, was swiftly drowned out by the earth-shattering roar that erupted from the dragon''s gaping jaws.

    Azure-hued mes surged outwards like in a flood again. The scorching mes were so unbelievably intense that even Cedric, at a rtively safe distance away on the opposite side of the arena, felt as though he had suddenly been thrust into the heart of a scorching furnace!

    But fortunately, Cedric''s reflexes helped him well in this precarious moment. As soon as he perceived that the situation was rapidly deteriorating, he immediately let the hound to swiftly run to safety. When the mes finally dissipated, the dog had miraculously avoided copsing into a pile of charred stone. Instead, it stood its ground near the edge of the now-melted pit, its white teeth bared in a snarl focused at the Swedish Short-Snout!

    <strong>ROAR!</strong>

    An overwhelmingly powerful sonic shockwave rippled through the arena, stirring up roiling clouds of smoke and choking dust. Suddenly, amidst the swirling haze, there was an ominous ng of strained metal as the iron chains holding the dragon in check stretched tense to their utmost limit.

    A massive frightening shadow burst through the obscuring veil of smoke and dust, apanied by a hair-raising, ear-splitting shriek of fury. In a terrifying disy of raw power and aggression, the Swedish Short-Snout pounced with astonishing speed, lunging straight at theparatively tiny Newfounnd dog.

    <em>Now! This was the moment!</em>

    Cedric''s agile mind went nk for a fraction of a second, then kicked into overdrive. He surrendered his bodypletely to pure, honed instinct.

    The instant the Short-Snout abandoned its guarded dragon nest, putting approximately forty feet of distance between itself and its eggs, Cedric seized his chance. Without a second''s hesitation, he leaped out from his hiding ce behind the massive boulder.

    "Merlin''s beard, everyone, look at Mr. Diggory go!" Bagman shouted, his voice cracking with excitement. "Can you believe the incredible speed he''s demonstrating? That young man is moving so fast, it''s simply astonishing - no, unbelievable!"

    Mere moments ago, Cedric had been about sixty feet away from the golden egg nested among the other dragon eggs. But in the four or five seconds it took for Ludo Bagman to exim in shock, he had crossed that distance so swiftly, he appeared to be flying across the rocky terrain rather than running.

    By the time Ludo''s amplified voice fell silent, Cedric had already appeared at the very edge of the dragon''s nest.

    <strong>ROAR!</strong>

    Another earth-shaking roar reverberated through the arena. The Swedish Short-Snout, momentarily distracted as it single-mindedly pounced on the infuriating hound, seemed to suddenly notice that something was amiss. Its head turned around abruptly, and its eyes widened as it saw a tiny, insignificant creature darting close to its cherished eggs.

    Before the dragon couldpletely turn its bulky body around to face this new threat, it instinctively brewed up a scorching stream of its signature blue dragon breath, ready to unleash hell upon the foolishly brave creature.

    Keen-eyed observers could clearly see that the Short-Snout''s gaping mouth and red nostrils were glowing an even more brilliant, pulsating blue - far brighter and more intense than ever before.

    However, Cedric, who had already swooped in with such astonishing speed, didn''t appear to have any possible escape route. He had been far too focused on reaching his goal to spare a thought for nning his retreat. At such a little distance from the enraged dragon and with his forward momentum propelling him ever closer to danger, he had virtually no chance of sessfully dodging the impending st!

    From their carefully concealed vantage points in the specially constructed tunnels surrounding the arena, the dragon handlers hired for the task raised their wands one after another, prepared to intervene at any moment. Even Dumbledore rose from his seat at that critical moment.

    Just when the breathless spectators were convinced that Cedric was going to tragically fail in his daring attempt - missing out on seizing the golden egg that was now so close - the Cedric did somethingpletely unexpected. In a desperate,st-ditch maneuver, he abruptly pounced forward and shouted an incantation in a strong, steady voice: "Glisseo!"

    He aimed his wand directly at the rocky boulder upon which the dragon was.

    <strong>BOOM!</strong>

    The sound of the mighty dragon''s massive body crashing to the ground was so thunderous, it was as though a massive bolt of lightning had unexpectedly struck the earth out of a clear blue sky.

    Despite the Short-Snout''s abrupt tumble, it still managed to release the scorching jet of fire that it had been brewing up. However, thanks to its sudden loss of bnce and stability, the scorching mes did not engulf Cedric as intended. Instead, the deadly stream of dragon fire rushed past Cedric, missing him by two or three feet before striking the rock wall with a bone-rattling crash.

    The entire arena trembled violently in the aftermath of that explosive impact, but not solely because of the dragon''s earthshaking roar or the force of its misdirected st. No, the primary reason for the stadium''s quaking was the deafening cheers that erupted from the spectators as they witnessed Cedric''s sess.

    "Did you see that? Did you all just witness that incredible feat?" Bagman shrieked tedly, bouncing up and down on hismentator''s podium as if the wooden nks were a trampoline. "Our first champion has done the unthinkable - he''s sessfully imed the golden egg for his own!"

    The dragon handlers rushed forward. And with their coordinated spellcasting, at least a dozen brilliant red beams of light shot out from their outstretched wands, enveloping the massive Swedish Short-Snout in a-like web of pulsating magical energy.

    But in that particr moment, no one in the crowd paid the slightest bit of attention to the impressive feat of the handlers subduing the rampaging dragon. Instead, every single spectator was utterly focused on loudly cheering for Cedric Diggory, the daring young champion who had just achieved the unthinkable.

    The young wizards of Hufflepuff House were simply crazy in joy. Each and every one of them leaped on the nearest bench or table, andughed with pure tion as they jumped up and down, pumping their fists in the air and screaming Cedric''s name over and over again until they went hoarse.

    Professor Sprout was so moved that she kept wiping her tears, and Cho Chang in the tunnel was also looking at Cedric with tears of relief and admiration gleaming in her dark eyes.

    "That''s my son!" In the viewing seat of Diagon Alley, Amos stood up and shouted loudly. "That''s my son out there!"

    "Oh, Amos, congrattions!" Arthur said sincerely, reaching out to firmly sp his shoulder. "That was a truly wonderful performance by your Cedric!"

    Yet even as he spoke those words of genuine praise, there was a hint of regret in Arthur''s eyes as his thoughts momentarily drifted to his own children. He found himself silently pondering that if only his elder sons - Bill, Charlie, or even Percy - had been fortunate enough to participate in the Triwizard Tournament during their own times at Hogwarts, they too might have be champions. If only...

    Down on the rocky floor of the area, an exhausted Cedricy t on his back in the dust, his chest heaving as he gulped in great lungful of air. His one arm was curled around the golden egg that he had sessfully seized from the dragon''s nest, clutching tight to his chest.

    Cedric was clearly aware that there had to be countless spectators cheering their hearts out for him at this moment, ¡­.and yet, he could not seem to muster up even the tiniest flicker of reciprocal happiness in his heart. The only emotion he could perceive was a deep, knee-weakening sense of all-consuming relief after his incredibly narrow escape from the dragon''s deadly mes.

    Following the heart-stopping conclusion of Cedric''s task, the hidden passageway leading into the arena abruptly opened, causing the disheveled Cedric to raise his head slightly off the ground to peer in that direction.

    In the wavering heat haze still emanating from the scorched and scarred stones, he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of Madam Pomfrey rushing towards him.

    Behind her, a horde of healers from St Mungo''s Hospital poured out of the passageway, and their faces were etched with undisguised horror - the kind of stark, bone-deep fear that only manifested when one had just witnessed something truly dreadful beyond the reach of the average imagination.

    "I''m fine!" Cedric called out, his voiceing out as little more than a dry, raspy croak. He drew in another deep, shuddering breath and made an effort to lever himself up into a sitting position, wanting to ease Madam Pomfrey''s concerns and convey to her that he had no need for such a massive assembly of medical personnel.

    However, the instant he shifted his body and attempted to rise - the entire left half of his body did not respond to his instinctual call at all, and was in factpletely numb. rmed by this disturbing discovery, Cedric looked down at himself in shock!

    "Don''t move a muscle, Mr. Diggory!" Madam Pomfrey cried out sharply as she stopped beside him. She had clearly seen the expression of distress twisting Cedric''s soot-streaked face, and her tone brooked no argument.

    Dropping to her knees in the dust, she quickly but carefully examined Cedric''s bloody left arm, whichy exposed to the smoky air. She couldn''t quite suppress the multiple gasps that escaped her as she took in the gruesome sight.

    "You should thank Bryan for providing you with specially enchantedpetition robes!" Madam Pomfrey said with a serious face, "Otherwise, you might not have been able to keep this arm!"

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    Ludo Bagman''s voice rang out across the arena, filled with genuine admiration.

    "Cedric Diggory disyed trulymendable courage and quick-thinking in the face of such a fearsome adversary. It''s clear to all who witnessed his performance that Mr. Diggory had formted a brilliant n for dealing with the dragon before ever setting foot in the arena.

    From the very start of the task to its thrilling finish, every action he took was carefully calcted and wlessly executed ording to his impressive strategy.

    I firmly believe that everyone here today will wholeheartedly agree that Mr. Diggory possesses an extraordinary level of wisdom andposure, especially for one so young. After all, before entering the arena, the champions were keptpletely in the dark about the nature of the challenge that awaited them, just like the rest of us spectators--"

    Suddenly, an Omni-ocr zoomed through the air and came to hover directly in front of Bagman''s broadly grinning face. As soon as he realized that his face was being projected in extreme close-up on the enormous magical screen, Bagman''s excitement seemed to notch up to entirely new heights.

    "As you all saw," Ludo continued, his words spilling out in a giddy rush, "we initially assumed that Mr. Diggory''s somewhat less than graceful entrance into the arena was due to understandable shock upon unexpectedlying face to fang with a fully grown dragon.

    However, the indisputable facts that rapidly unfolded before our very eyes serve as convincing proof that in the span of mere minutes, this talented young wizard created a nearly wless strategy to ovee the obstacle in his path. Cedric Diggory''s show here today is richly deserving of the most enthusiastic round of apuse we can muster!"

    As if on cue, a hurricane of cheers and apuse erupted from the spectators with the noise filling every inch of the spacious stone arena and lingering for an impressively long time before finally dying back down to a dull roar.

    All across the stands, Hogwarts Professors were congratting a beaming Professor Sprout. And indeed, it would have been nigh impossible to deny that Cedric''s spectacr performance - from his outstanding disy of advanced Transfiguration skills to that final, crucially timed charm - had earned him the near-universal admiration and respect...with one notable exception.

    Up at the judges'' table, Karkaroff''s demeanor could not have been colder. His posture was stiff and his thin lips werepressed into a tight, disapproving line as he scowled down at the arena, radiating an almost palpable disdain.

    Unfortunately, despite Cedric''s brave and unquestionably impressive efforts, he had not quite managed to emerge from his trial by firepletely unscathed. The scorching heat of the Swedish Short-Snout''s final, desperate st of mes had left his left hand and forearm badly burned - a serious injury that would undoubtedly have a negative impact on his overall score.

    And indeed, when the judges began to post their marks, this proved to be the case. Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, and Barty Crouch all awarded Cedric a solid 9 out of 10 possible points. More surprisingly, Ludo Bagman - despite his gushing earlier praise - chose to give him an 8. Still,pared to the measly 6 that a scowling Karkaroff unwillingly held up, Bagman''s score seemed quite generous.

    The Hogwarts students responded to Karkaroff''s tant bias with a storm of furious boos and catcalls. An enraged Ernie Macmin even went so far as to roll up his sleeves and start resolutely pushing his way towards the judges'' table, clearly intending to give Karkaroff a piece of his mind.

    Justin was forced to leap up and physically restrain the hotheaded Ernie, though he was simultaneously shaking his own fist and hurling some words in Karkaroff''s direction.

    "One champion down, three yet to face their dragons!" Bagman shouted, his magically amplified voice resounding through the noise.

    As Cedric was carried off the field to a chorus of cheers, the dragon handlers - who likely had the most strenuous job of all during the course of the tournament - swarmed into the rocky arena. Working together, they took aim at the panting Swedish Short-Snout and fired off a volley of Stunning Spells from every direction. The handlers immediately leaped forward to restrain the unconscious Short-Snout with heavy iron chains, and hauled it out to the enclosure.

    After the Swedish Short-Snout vanished into the tunnel the handlers struggled to maneuver a second dragon into the arena. This time, it was a Welsh Green - a species known for its rtive calmness inparison to most dragons.

    However, as the emerald-scaled beast came into view, it became swiftly apparent that this particr dragon was far more alert and energetic than its sleeping predecessor had been...which would likely make the handlers'' job more challenging.

    "Strange..." Ginny muttered, her brow furrowing as she scanned the chaos unfolding on the enormous screen. "Where''s Charlie? He''s supposed to be in charge of the handlers, isn''t he? You''d think he''d be down there, sorting that mess out."

    Fred leanedzily against the railing, his grin widening into something mischievous. "Oh, Charlie?" he said, drawing the name out as if he were conjuring a tragic headline. "Poor bloke probably went and got himself eaten by one of his scaly darlings. You know how he is¡ªalways giving his heart to the wrong kind of girl. Can''t say we didn''t see iting, really."

    Ginny red at him, though the corners of her mouth twitched. "Fred."

    "What?" Fred shrugged, his eyes twinkling. "At least he died doing what he loved. That''s every dragon-lover''s dream, isn''t it?"

    Just then, a piercing whistle shrilled across the stadium, attracting the crowd''s attention as Bagman roared with renewed delight, "And now, the time hase for our second champion to make her entrance! Miss Dcour, if you would be so kind as to join us in the arena!"

    Everyone''s eyes fell upon the big screen. Two minutester, Fleur, dressed in her tournament uniform, walked out of the tunnel and appeared in the arena.

    As the most dazzling among the many lovely girls of Beauxbatons, on normal days at Hogwarts, except when facing a certain professor, Fleur Dcour always had a proud temperament, as if nothing here was put in her heart. But perhaps precisely because of this demeanor, Fleur''s poprity has always been high. Privately, the number of boys expressing admiration for Fleur is no less than Krum''s huge group of female fans.

    But today''s Fleur did not have her usual proud expression.

    When Fleur first entered the arena with her hair in a high ponytail, her performance was the same as Cedric''s. She stood at the foot of the hill, gazing at the summit. Her pale cheeks were full of helplessness. But this soft demeanor exuded a unique allure. Many boys wished they could jump directly into the arena and duel the Welsh Green on Fleur''s behalf.

    Ludo Bagman, however, seemed far more interested in stirring the pot than talking about ying the chivalrous knight in shining armor.

    "As anyone who''s been following the media coverage leading up to the tournament is doubtlessly already aware," He announced with theatrical pleasure, "Miss Fleur Dcour of Beauxbatons has blood of the Ve running through her veins. And I think we''d all agree that it''s her unique heritage that''s bestowed upon her such truly iparable beauty - beauty that seems to literally radiate from her!

    Oh, Miss Fleur Dcour versus the Welsh Green, I cannot help but be put in mind of that ssic fairy tale so popr among Muggles...the story of Beauty and the Beast!" He paused to let out a heartyughter at his own witticism, then merrily continued, "Well, I think I speak for all of us here today when I say that I''m waiting with bated breath to see what sort of brilliant feat the breathtaking Miss Dcour has in store for us!"

    Up in the Judges section, Madame Maxime let out an audible huff of indignation at Bagman''s frivolous words. "Ahem!" she coughed pointedly, rotating to face the grinning man with a murderous re.

    After a few seconds of this heavy eye contact, Bagman seemed to abruptly recall that antagonizing a giantess was a foolish life choice, and swiftly adopted a more sober tone.

    Seeing that her reproachful intervention had served its purpose, Madame Maxime turned her attention to Fleur, and her face creased with worry as she stared at Fleur''s pale face disyed on the screen.

    "Zut alors, I pray zere will not be any unexpected incidents!" she murmured just loudly enough for those seated alongside her to overhear, her ented voice was filled with anxiety. "I have every faith in Fleur''s abilities, but still... O! Where is Bryan? Should he not be down below, guarding against just such idents? Dumbledore, I swear I don''t see him zere!"

    Dumbledore turned to Madame Maxime with a cating smile, deliberately ignoring Karkaroff''s derisive snort at the judges'' table. "There is no need to trouble yourself, Madame Maxime," He pacified her in his most calming tones. "I have every confidence that Miss Dcour will deliver a performance that will be a pleasant surprise for each and every one of us. As for Bryan..."

    Dumbledore paused briefly to scan the crowded stands, his blue eyes eventuallying to rest on a point outside the arena, upon which they seemed to briefly sharpen with recognition.

    "Bryan is probably patrolling outside. I guess he''s afraid of repeating the World Cup tragedy."

    After dealing with Madame Maxime''s question, a trace of contemtion shed in Dumbledore''s blue eyes. Without changing his expression, he withdrew his hand into his wide sleeve. A few secondster, a faint silver light swiftly shot out, attracting no one''s attention, and directly prated the floor and disappeared.

    "Look at that,dies and gentlemen - our second champion has clearly decided on her course of action!" Bagman eximed. "She appears to be...but surely not...Merlin''s beard, I thought for certain that she would have opted for a more subtle approach to bypass the--"

    People all knew the reason for Ludo''s surprise - everyone would assume Fleur would probably adopt the same strategy as Cedric: quietly approach, not let the dragon discover her, then seize an opportunity when the time was right.

    However, Fleur''s choice was beyond everyone''s expectations. She took staggering steps and directly chose the most convenient path to climb the hill. Her steps were unsteady, but it was not hard to see that Fleur had no intention of concealing herself at all.

    And with this posture, she was naturally discovered by the Welsh Green on the hill.

    Compared to the Swedish Short-Snout that Cedric just dealt with, the Welsh Green native to Wales in Britain obviously had a much gentler temperament. It watched the wizard approaching it on the ridge. There was not as much hostility in its beautiful green vertical pupils, but they were full of vignce.

    <strong>Woo--</strong>

    The Welsh Green let out an ethereal, long howl. Wizards unfamiliar with this dragon species were all surprised. They simply could not believe that such a fierce dragon could make such a melodious call.

    In fact, the Welsh Green is probably the gentlest of the dragon breeds. They like to eat sheep. Unless angered, they always actively avoid humans. Wizards established a protected area for this dragon species in the Welsh mountains. They like to roost on high cliffs, which also makes them especially good at rock climbing.

    However, a gentle temperament does not mean no temper, especially since this Welsh Green was at a critical moment.

    After the green dragon uttered a deterring howl, Fleur''s steps indeed paused for a few seconds. But then, she started walking again. Since there was no need to hide her tracks, Fleur reached the hilltop even faster than Cedric. After learning they had to face dragons, every champion investigated the range the dragon''s breath could cover. Fleur also stopped fifty or sixty feet away from the dragon''s nest.

    "What does she n to do?" Ludo asked the question in everyone''s mind. "Directly confront the dragon? Oh, forgive my bluntness, but that''s not a wise choice!"

    Everyone was looking forward to Fleur''s performance. But just then, something unexpected happened. That Welsh Green saw Fleur ignoring its threatening roar and raising her wand at it. A hint of fear actually shed through its beautiful green vertical pupils. This dragon remembered not long ago, a wizard fiercely abused it and several of its kin. Then--

    <strong>Whoosh!</strong>

    The Welsh Green suddenly spread its left wing and swept the ground. After a cloud of dust, the few eggs originally lying in the hay all vanished. The green dragon''s wings curled up. Then, the green dragon nced at Fleur with unease, immediately turned to face the cliff, and with a crunch, nimbly inserted its ws into the cliff face!

    <strong>Crunch, crunch, crunch--</strong>

    Dust filled the air, rocks flew everywhere. The sound of shattering stone finally ended with a heavy ng. Including Fleur, everyone stared dumbfounded at the Welsh Green hiding halfway up the rocky mountain.

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