Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 388 Grindelwald Arrives
Breakfast time, in the castle chapel.

The young wizards yawned as they went to get their breakfast. Some were still sleepy-eyed, while others had found topics to talk about early in the morning and chatted incessantly with their companions. The hall was filled with a vibrant and youthful atmosphere, and the professors coming and going all felt much younger.

Three weeks have passed since the start of the school year. The rainy season at the end of summer and the beginning of autumn is humid and long, and the sound of drizzling rain can be heard every day. The new school year is on track, and because of the news of the Flame Cup Championship, the students quickly refocused and showed a different learning attitude.

Mad-Eye Moody's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was the most talked-about course, even surpassing Melvin's Muggle Studies at one point. The Unforgivable Curse was like a red apple on the dark magic tree, filled with fear and dread, yet also with temptation and excitement.

Good morning, professor.

"Good morning... cough, I meant, what do you mean by being lazy and lethargic? Stay alert at all times!"

"Professor, could I hand in the assignment two days later?"

"Could you eat two days later?"

"It's not impossible..."

"Add two feet to your paper, I'll check it carefully."

"No, Professor..."

In the passageway leading from the marble staircase to the auditorium, the student's wails were drowned out by the laughter of his friends. The commotion awakened the damp, moldy castle, while Mad-Eye Moody, with his eerie blue eyes, limped toward the head table.

Given Mad-Eye Moody's character of being wary of outsiders' food, Peter could have avoided appearing in the Great Hall, but he always felt insecure if he didn't talk to Mr. Levent every day.

Besides, Peter always had a subtle, indescribable feeling when those students greeted him in their silly way, and he actually quite enjoyed it.

Melvin had classes in the morning and was woken up early by the cool scales of Yorm. He had already eaten breakfast and was flipping through the Daily Prophet's newspaper as usual.

"Dong dong..."

Hearing the dull thud of the wooden prosthetic leg and cane striking the floor, Melvin, without looking up, pointed to the newspaper on the table:
"After Mad-Eye joined the task force, the operation to capture the werewolves immediately accelerated, and their achievements have been reported in the newspapers. Did he say anything to you this morning?"

Because of the special properties of Polyjuice Potion, Mad-Eye Moody needed to contact Peter frequently, so Professor McGonagall unlocked the fireplace in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office to facilitate the two of them exchanging fresh hair regularly.

Peter sat down sideways beside him, like a real lame old wizard, put down his cane and began to read the newspaper. The first page featured a wanted poster for a werewolf.

Front-page headline: "Fenrir Graybuck escapes as crackdown on werewolf gang incomplete."

"At 3 a.m. yesterday, the Aurors and the Strikers formed a special operations team to capture the werewolf gang roaming the border. The plan was devised by Rufus Scrimgeour of the Auror Office, and the attack was launched on the second night after the full moon. Most of the werewolves were in a weakened state, and no wizards were injured in the operation."

"Fenrir Greyback, the leader of the werewolf gang, appears to have escaped his weakened state during his transformation. Upon receiving intelligence of the attack, he quickly abandoned his comrades and fled, using his keen senses and animalistic instincts to escape the encirclement. The Ministry of Magic has issued an arrest warrant for him and is seeking clues from the wizarding world..."

"Before launching the attack, the Executive Division had thoroughly investigated the gang members and obtained relevant evidence. Ms. Burns stated that no werewolf with blood on their hands would be let off the hook, but no kind patient forced to survive would be wrongly accused."

"The Ministry of Magic will subsequently implement appropriate resettlement measures, with the Magic Mirror Club and St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries collaborating, and Mr. Lucius Malfoy generously providing employment and discounts on wolfsbane potions for werewolf patients living in poverty."

"Our star reporter Rita Skeeter will continue to bring you the latest news."

Peter quickly skimmed through the feature article, closed the newspaper, and felt a slight sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a complex feeling of mixed emotions, often including nostalgia or reflection).

The Ministry of Magic is no longer the figurehead it once was. Fenrir Greyback was a notorious werewolf criminal before the Wizarding Wars. Voldemort's downfall did not implicate him, and he was able to run rampant in various places for decades without any consequences. His werewolf gang has always been a headache for many.

As a result, within two years of Ms. Burns taking office, the troublesome werewolf gang was brought to justice.

Furthermore, it fundamentally undermined the foundation of the werewolf gang, ensuring that even the poorest werewolf sufferers would have a safety net and wouldn't be driven to desperation to rely on that beast, Graybury.

The root of all these changes can be traced back to the Magic Mirror Club and to Mr. Levent in front of us.

"Mad-Eye didn't come to Hogwarts this morning; only half of his body was reflected in the fireplace flames, and he looked quite happy."

Peter touched the curved bottle clipped to his belt; it contained fresh polysaccharide, tasting only slightly better than fox-flavored freak candy.
"The operation plan was devised by Lyme Lupin. During his infiltration, he used wolfsbane to turn a group of werewolves against him, investigated the gang members' crimes, and then closed in after all the intelligence was ready. Mad-Eye Han didn't show his face much, but secretly directed the battle."

Speaking of these things, Peter felt uneasy and confused again.

Judging from the current situation, that former master has no chance of winning at all. The best outcome would be to be defeated again, leaving behind a wisp of his soul to burrow into some desolate, uninhabited mountain forest.

Albania is probably doomed; next time, they'll probably have to escape to the Amazon or the African jungle.

Werewolves who have nowhere else to turn can be properly cared for, but those who have actually committed crimes must be severely punished. They betrayed their friends and family, murdered Muggles, framed others, and escaped from prison...

Once everything settles down, even if someone has made a small contribution, the best outcome would be a life sentence in Azkaban, right?

Melvin could sense his turbulent emotions, but he made no promises. He had always believed in the power of reciprocal exchange of benefits, but not everything could be done as business.

Only the insect's tail knows what lies ahead.

"Professor Moody!"

A fourth-grade student, Ernie from Hufflepuff, came over and asked, "Justin told me that if I don't eat for a day, I can hand in my homework a day late. Is that true?"

Mad-Eyes looked up, his deep blue eyes remaining still, while a hidden emotion flickered in his dark pupils: "You want to delay for a few days?"

"Three days... no, two days, I didn't bring many snacks."

"Add three feet to your paper."

"Oh! No!"

……

Hangover Bar.

Little Hangerton is a remote village far from the city. As the elderly gradually pass away and the young people move away one after another, it has become increasingly deserted and quiet. There has been little news for more than a decade, and the Riddle family's old case is still a topic of conversation over drinks.

The bartender, whose decades-old murder case remains unsolved, has recently uttered a few fresh remarks. "You don't know yet, do you? The ghosts of the entire Riddle family are back. They were summoned back from the underworld. Gardener Frank left because he sensed this."

In the Hanged Man Bar, a bartender said to a pale-faced middle-aged man, "He's a complete stranger, but I feel a strange sense of familiarity about him, and I'm instinctively willing to open up and share things with him."

“Little Hangton hasn’t seen any new faces for years. Last summer, a young man stopped here and asked me about Riddle’s old house and Frank. He went out for a while to perform a ritual to summon the spirits.”

"Why do you say that?" [Little Barty] asked with a gentle smile.

The tavern waiter wasn't a highly trained special agent or soldier; his Muggle head was completely unprotected, opening itself wide when he met those eyes. Even with Melvin's Oblivion Charm concealing it, Dumbledore could easily peruse those images.

I made a brief stop in Little Hangleton a year ago, had a couple of drinks, and persuaded an old gardener to leave.

Dumbledore knew that Melvin's target at the time was the Resurrection Stone ring in Gaunt's old house, and he was very interested in his investigation process, but the bartender didn't know much.

“Starting a month ago, people have often seen the lights on at the Riddell House, and some have even tried to see if any homeless people have moved in, but nothing has come of it.”

The tavern waiter looked around for a moment, then said mysteriously, "I've been there a few times. That place is really eerie, you know? Every time I'm about to go over and knock on the door, I remember something important and rush back."

Dumbledore took a sip of his drink and smiled. Of course he knew that the Muggle expulsion spell in that place was something he had been maintaining all along.

After the start of the school year, Umbridge and Wormtail were both sent out on undercover missions, one to the Ministry of Magic and the other to Hogwarts. Voldemort was suspicious by nature and did not stay in one place for long, often moving between Riddle House and Crouch House.

The real Barty revealed that this was normal. Even when Voldemort's power was at its peak, he didn't trust the Death Eaters, rarely revealed his whereabouts, and always went alone. He also went to Godric's Hollow alone that night.

Dumbledore also took the opportunity of being out and about to revisit places important to Voldemort and investigate clues related to Horcruxes.

Why is it necessary to go there and see it?

“Curiosity, I’d like to know the outcome of the murder case too.” The tavern waiter raised an eyebrow. “If we run into the ghosts of the Riddle family, we might be able to find out who the killer is. The Riddle family is quite friendly.”

"If such eerie things happen, then we should stay away from those places."

After saying this, Dumbledore slammed his empty glass on the bar. The sound made the waiter momentarily distracted. When he came to his senses, he looked wistful, as if he had lost a piece of memory, but couldn't remember what it was.

In autumn, darkness falls early, and fog rolled in at dusk. The figure of a middle-aged wizard flickered in the hazy fog and silently arrived at Riddle House.

House-elves are busy in the kitchen, and Glitter has become Voldemort's personal nanny, mixing Nagini venom with unicorn silver blood to make the snake-faced baby's unique formula milk.

Voldemort stood guard in front of the fireplace. His body was still weak, and he spent long periods of time sleeping each day. When he was awake, he would read the news in the Prophet's newspaper, check the intelligence sent back by the two undercover agents, and listen to Barty the Younger's report on the progress of the resurrection ritual.

"Click..."

[Little Barty] pushed open the door and came to the back of the stroller: "It's different here than in Albania. The Ministry of Magic is very strict. Unicorn blood is quite rare, and it's hard to buy in Knockturn Alley... Some of the rare ingredients for the Resurrection Ritual are not available in Britain and need to be smuggled in from other places."

"If it's not enough, add more Nagini's venom. Unicorn silver blood isn't that important; the curse inside is also very troublesome. This body has stabilized and is enough to sustain us until our plan is implemented."

A hoarse, cold male voice echoed in the room, causing the flames in the fireplace to flicker even though there was no wind.
"We can wait for the materials for the resurrection ritual. We have plenty of time to polish every detail of the plan to perfection."

"..."

[Little Barty] nodded without saying a word, behaving in a manner befitting a male wizard who had been imprisoned for thirteen years and whose personality was withdrawn and twisted.

“Umbridge sent word back that her bloodline is tainted by too many Muggle impurities, making her a fool and incompetent person who has yet to infiltrate the Department of Mysteries.”

Voldemort spoke again, with a hint of smugness: "The plan with Wormtail is going smoothly. They have successfully integrated into Hogwarts and gotten close to Potter without arousing anyone's suspicion."

"..."

"My most loyal little Barty, I have something more important for you to do now." Voldemort spoke too much in a short time, and the temperature in the room dropped considerably, and the flames in the fireplace dimmed slightly.

"At your service."

"The newspapers say that Fenrir Greyback is on the run. Go and bring him back before the Aurors catch him."

"Greybuck?"

“I know those beasts are of low blood, but we are short-handed right now. Graybury’s wolf claws, fangs, and infectious diseases are enough to spread some fear.”

Voldemort hissed and stuck out his tongue. Greyback had once been a useful beast who followed him wholeheartedly, only to obtain a Dark Mark and hope to join the Death Eaters.

But even after Voldemort's downfall, Greyback remained nothing more than a beast, and most Death Eaters believed he was unworthy of the Dark Lord's mark.

“He once told me about a few hidden wolf dens. Little Barty, go to those places and bring him back.”

……

Night fell over Newcastle.

Inside the containers of the port warehouse, a beast-like sorcerer tore at frozen meat, indistinguishable between beef, mutton, or other types of meat, dripping with blood. Even the frozen kneecaps remained as tender as candy under his sharp teeth's chewing and tearing.

Fenrir was a burly sorcerer with matted gray hair and a thick beard, sharp teeth, mouth sores, and thick, yellowed nails on his dirty fingers, which were sharpened into claws. He looked like a wild beast.

Despite his advanced age, the werewolf disease did not make him look old and haggard. Unlike those wizards who rejected the werewolf disease, he felt it was a gift and accepted it from the bottom of his heart.

A wizard's emotions can affect the soul. Just like the Obscurus mutation, Fenrir's magic has changed since some time ago, causing his body to change as well. Even in human form, he has sharp teeth and claws, and he feels almost no discomfort when transforming on a full moon night.

For decades, he had been experimenting with biting and killing in normal human form, and those beast claws and teeth became more handy weapons than magic wands.

Taking a large bite of frozen meat, making a chilling crunch, Fenrir's eyes turned bloodshot with rage, as if he were devouring the flesh of his enemy.
"Damn Aurors, damn the Ministry of Magic... Wait until the next full moon, and turn your children into werewolves!"

Just then, another cargo ship docked, and a crane moved the container into the warehouse. After the workers locked the door, a soft cough was heard from inside the container:
"Ahem... Bruno, have we arrived?"

(End of this chapter)