Azkaban students at Hogwarts

"I don't really like humans, but I quite like him."

Martin, now 32, said so.

Dear readers, please forgive me for using such a pseudonym to call him, because his real name is difficult to write.

With the consent of Martin himself, he chose to use the name of the protagonist in his favorite comic "The Adventures of Mad Muggle Martin Miggs" as his pseudonym.

In some parts of Africa, werewolves are not as hidden in big cities as we imagine.

On the contrary, they gather in groups and form tribes, but unfortunately they are not willing to talk about their tribe to outsiders.

In my opinion this is a responsible attitude towards the tribe and should be respected.

It's a pity that the curiosity and uneasiness deep in my heart urged me to start this journey with my old bones.

So after three months of trekking and searching, I arrived here by luck.

After some unfriendly greetings, I finally met someone who was willing to communicate with me—Henry Nelson, a witch doctor from Norway.

As an outsider, he received surprising respect from this tribe, and it was his introduction that allowed me to meet Martin.

It was with the strong support of these two gentlemen that I was able to piece together the background of a past event in such a short period of time.

It spans such a short time span but involves so many characters.

Please forgive me for only introducing the verified parts and related knowledge.

Most of the content in this book comes from the notes provided by Roman Heller, and the author only investigated and supplemented some of the events.

——Newt Scamander

Since he started researching Wolfsbane potion, Damkos Belby has lost count of how many channels he has gone through and how many bounties he has issued.

He hoped that someone could bring him some news about werewolves, even if it was just some internal werewolf legends or even anecdotes, because he had very little information at hand.

The few werewolves who are willing to cooperate are what we call "unsociable ones", and it is difficult to provide him with drug responses under different conditions.

As time passed, drug development stalled.

Mr. Belby finally angrily raised the reward.

So he got what he wanted, a letter from the person in charge saying that his task had been taken over by a very reliable person.

Just three days later, Mrs. Bertin, who had just settled here with a young mother and son, found an unconscious young man with white hair in front of her door.

……

"So that's why you lost contact at that time?" Slughorn held the book, and the muscles on his face twitched, as if he was trying to suppress a smile. "Are you still in such a mess?"

Roman twitched his eyes and said with a dark face: "Whoever asks about this will die."

"Okay, okay, no more questions." Slughorn continued to read tremblingly.

……

But fortunately, after the kind-hearted Mrs. Bertin's treatment, the young man recovered quickly and his white hair miraculously returned to its original color.

But people were surprised by the color of his hair when he arrived, and he behaved no differently from other werewolves who were in trouble here, so they chose to call him the White Wolf.

But no one seems to have noticed that on every full-moon night when Aconitum is in full bloom, this young man is not among the companions howling at the moon.

……

Slughorn skipped through the article in large sections, only reading the general meaning and extracting some clues from it.

Because this book is more like a textbook about werewolves than a storybook.

He was not interested in these materials and only selected and read some of them about Roman.

……

"He quickly won everyone's favor with his potion skills," Henry Nelson recalled.

"Everyone is happy to chat with him. If you have read The Wizard and the Hopping Pot..."

"He's like the helpful old wizard?"

"No, he's like the jumping pot," said Henry Nelson.

……

But the peaceful life was soon broken.

The messenger from outside was like a boulder thrown into a pool, causing huge waves in the tribe.

The identity of the young mother and son adopted by Mrs. Bertin is not simple. They must choose between the revenge of another group of werewolves or the surrender of the mother and son.

The tribe was divided into two factions.

One party firmly stated that since the other party had become a member of their own tribe, they should not be so cowardly; the other party believed that the fight was meaningless and it was better to expel the two.

But with the persistence of Henry, White Wolf and Mrs. Bertin, they finally decided to keep the mother and son.

This proved to be a self-destructive endeavor.

At first, a pair of foreign werewolf brothers began to have frequent contact with the tribe.

They showed great interest in the white wolf.

But Bai Lang keenly realized that their target was actually the poor mother and son.

He chased the two off with little effort, but retaliation soon followed.

According to Henry's recollection, the other party's revenge was limited to the white wolf and did not affect other people in the tribe.

This made the White Wolf, who could not figure out the enemy's situation, feel a little helpless, and began to try to avoid some head-on conflicts.

But before his investigation could produce results, a devastating blow came.

On this land that originally belonged to French colonists, the French left too many traces - even French giants.

On a full moon night, when the werewolves in the tribe used some potions provided by Henry and the White Wolf to weaken their combat effectiveness in order to spend the night peacefully, a dozen guys as tall as mountains stepped into the tribe's station. .

The tribe was almost destroyed, and traces of the original battle can still be seen today.

The enemy took away the young mother and son and left with the giants.

And everyone who recovered from the werewolf state also discovered the fact that the white wolf was not a werewolf.

They didn't say much, but they clearly felt they'd been cheated.

White Wolf didn't explain or argue; he just silently brewed the healing potion and cleaned up the ruins.

The next morning, without saying goodbye to Mrs. Bertin, he left expressionlessly.

It is said that he also took away an exquisite box containing an eternal flame.

"That shouldn't be the Gubulai Immortal Fire, right?"

Slughorn turned the page and looked up when there was no follow-up and asked.Rolf also looked at Roman curiously.

"Don't ask, whoever asks will die." Roman looked calm this time, as if he wanted to eat egg tarts for breakfast.

Only this time it was Slughorn's turn to look bad.

He continued to flip through it, and perhaps seeing the part he cared about, Slughorn began to read in a low voice.

"We don't know the rest of the story because everyone is so secretive about it."

"We only know that a month later, the white wolf returned to the tribe and took away Mrs. Bertin."

"It was also that day that people discovered that White Wolf had three more scars on his eyes. And he himself said that whoever asked him this question would receive the strongest curse he cast."

"enough!"

Roman interrupted Slughorn's reading.

"How could they agree to publish this kind of book?"

Roman frowned. He never expected that Newt did not deduce anything from the notes, but conducted an on-the-spot investigation based on the scale armor records above.

"As far as I know, a large company like theirs is basically on the same page as the Ministry of Magic. How could it happen at this juncture..."

Slughorn looked at the words "Oscurus Books" thoughtfully.

"My grandfather has some friendship with Obscurus Book Company." Luofu said lightly, as if he didn't realize what such a book meant at this time.

"This is the company that published Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, right?"

Slughorn seemed to be trying to use a question to give Roman an answer.

But neither he nor Roman found this answer to be convincing at all.

Roman pulled "The White Wolf's Past" out of Slughorn's hands and stuffed it into the wizard's robe along with the bright red reagent bottle on the table.

"Why does your body look like a small warehouse?" Slughorn looked Roman up and down, "Where is your box?"

Roman spread his hands helplessly. After some idle modifications by Nico Flamel, the wizard robe he was wearing was now really a small warehouse.

And there are more bits and pieces, such as a dark magic detector like a Muggle stethoscope, and a demon mirror that takes up an amazing amount of space but can display enemies.

It’s just that the monocle left by his father is still being restored in the hands of the real Nico Flamel.

Flamel, the alchemical creature, wanted to prove that he was no longer Amon, but Flamel rejected him.

In the last journey of his life, he just wanted to be with his wife and didn't want to worry about new things.

So he chose to entrust the half-finished Nagini to Roman, and then took away the monocle. He said that repairing these small things took no effort and could be used as a pastime in his spare time.

"If this is true, you should contact Dumbledore." Slughorn looked at Roman doubtfully.

"In fact, I contacted the principal immediately, but after talking to Mr. Flamel, he decided to give me maximum freedom."

Roman dusted off the non-existent dust on his shoulders, "To be honest, it's really difficult to avoid the sight of Aurors and come to you in the Muggle way."

"Trace is hard to deal with, isn't it?" Slughorn said gloatingly.

"But it will be no problem if there are adult wizards to cover." Roman pointed to the roof, "Thank you for your enthusiastic help."

"But Dumbledore shouldn't be like this. What is going on?"

Based on Slughorn's understanding of Dumbledore, he was not such an irresponsible person.

It was not his style to let one of his students face these things on his own.

"You clearly know what's going on."

In the headmaster's room at Hogwarts, Armando's portrait is staring at Dumbledore.

As the previous headmaster, he had an extremely close relationship with Dumbledore, both in public and private matters.

That's why he felt the need to point out things that didn't matter in other portraits.

"Yes, yes. But - when and why?"

Dumbledore's eyes rarely revealed his confusion about the problem and his own doubts.

For a long time in the past, he often chose to replace this feeling with exploration and thinking.

Fox was combing bright feathers on the shelf, but at this moment he suddenly turned his head, stared at his old and sad face, and cried unhappily.

It flew up gently and landed on Dumbledore's shoulder.

Dumbledore subconsciously raised his hand and stroked its slender neck.

Fox, however, pecked his fingers dissatisfiedly, as if complaining about something.

Dumbledore suddenly realized and took off the gold chain wrapped around his finger. It had just hit Fawkes.

The end of this very long and fine gold chain is connected to a small, shiny gold timepiece.

Unlike this timepiece that cannot be screwed off, the clock at No. 129b on the south side of London's Diagon Alley is very hardworking.

It went around and around, not stopping until Editor Hard confirmed the time.

At this time, outside the company's main entrance, best-selling author Gilderoy Lockhart, accompanied by a young man, was preparing to talk about the publishing of his new book in the UK.

The editor, Mr. Harder, took it personally.

He saw the glamorous Lockhart and the gentle young man beside him, and he was a little unsure of this person's identity.

But seeing that Mr. Lockhart seemed to have no intention of introducing the young people around him, he had a countermeasure:

"Mr. Lockhart, readers are looking forward to your new book."

"Yes, I am also very confident about this book." Lockhart smiled, showing his shiny teeth.

“But readers don’t quite understand why you chose to launch your new book in France.”

Lockhart's smile froze, but he cleverly took the opportunity to raise his hand to straighten his hair without Mr. Harder noticing.

"Unexpectedly, I was so excited after finishing writing the book that I couldn't wait."

When Mr. Harder saw that Lockhart still kept his sunny smile after he put down his hand, he worked even harder:

"Of course, we are also very happy that you choose our company. I can guarantee that we will go all out to do the corresponding work."

Of course he dares to guarantee this without mentioning what the "Hard" in his name has to do with the "Hard" in the company's name.

Not to mention the name Gilderoy Lockhart, who is synonymous with bestsellers.

Just today when "The Hairy Nose, the Human Heart" is popular, this book must have good sales.

As a heartbreaking story about a man's struggle with the paranoia of transforming into an animal, "Hairy Nose, Human Heart" is already a bestseller, and it was even more out of stock due to the recent werewolf case that made a lot of noise.

God knows what kind of shock a book written by Lockhart about the life of wizards and werewolves would bring at this time.

And as far away as France.

A copy of "Wandering with Werewolves" published by Gilderoy Lockhart was spreading among the young people of Beauxbatons like an ordinary new bestseller.