Hogwarts: I graduated before the system came

Lorenzo Dino struggled to rise from his chair, nearly tripping over a pile of papers at his feet.

He fumbled with his hands to adjust his glasses and try to straighten his wrinkled robes, but with little success.

Douglas said with a joking smile:

"Lorenzo, my friend, you look so awful. What crossword puzzle has the Church given you that's keeping you awake all night?"

He came over and hugged Douglas, then spoke weakly:

"Don't mention it. They've recently started researching the cleansing effects of holy water on Transfiguration spells. You know, those reports would put even a Divination Bird to sleep."

He let go of Douglas and turned his gaze to Lupin and Isabella, trying to appear more cheerful:

"This must be Mr. Remus Lupin... You are amazing, the first person to be cured of wolfsbane."

Lupin nodded politely: "Director Dino is really dedicated..."

Lorenzo rubbed his temple and pointed to a small door nearby:

"Let's go to the conference room to talk. This place... looks a bit like a disaster scene."

He smiled self-deprecatingly and walked over first.

The small conference room is decorated simply and practically, with an oval obsidian table occupying most of the space.

Lorenzo walked to the end of the long table and tapped the surface with his wand.

A cup of strong coffee appeared in front of him, and three cups of black tea appeared in front of the other three.

Lorenzo took a long sip of the scalding liquid, and his spirits seemed to lift slightly.

Then he said to Douglas:

"It's the one you gave me last time. I didn't want to drink much."

Then he lightly tapped his wand in the air, and a huge map of Italy appeared on one wall of the office, with densely packed areas marked with dots of different colors.

Lorenzo cleared his throat.

"Okay, Douglas, let's get straight to the point. You're here mainly because of the werewolf issue. The situation... may be more complicated than what you heard in England."

He waved his wand, and the light spots on the map began to change, some areas were highlighted in red, while others dimmed.

Lorenzo explained:

“This is the current distribution of werewolf tribes known in Italy.

They are mainly concentrated in the Apennine Mountains and remote areas such as Sicily and Sardinia.

Ever since the damn Werewolf Quarantine Act was enacted in 1933, their living space has been extremely compressed.

The law stipulates that all registered werewolves must report their whereabouts to the Ministry of Magic every month, otherwise they will face imprisonment. You can think of it as Azkaban-style detention... "

As Lorenzo continued to speak, Lupin's expression, which had originally been one of polite listening, gradually turned pale.

His hands, placed on his knees, were unconsciously clenched into fists, and his knuckles turned slightly white due to the force.

When Lorenzo mentions certain tribes being scornfully called living curses;

Being used as a scapegoat to divert social contradictions;

Some rebels were even subjected to Azkaban-style detention.

Lupin's breathing became noticeably heavier.

There was a complex light flickering in his eyes, like a flame under a deep pool, pain, anger, and a hint of deeply stung humiliation.

Those words, like cold needles, pierced the most hidden scars in his heart.

He remembered the heart-wrenching pain of every full-moon night, the eyes filled with fear and disgust, and the days when he had to hide from place to place and remain anonymous.

He tried hard to restrain himself, but the slight trembling of his body and the sudden sharp look in his eyes still revealed the turmoil in his heart.

It felt like there was a ball of fire stuck in his throat, and he could hardly control the low roar he let out.

Douglas appeared unusually calm and did not interrupt Lorenzo's statement.

His eyes were deep as he slowly scanned every mark on the magic map, and he observed Lupin's reaction calmly.

It seems that the new wolfsbane potion can eliminate the toxins in the werewolf's body, but the long-standing social problems that have caused the werewolf's paranoid personality still need to be solved.

His slender fingers tapped lightly on the obsidian table, making a regular "thump thump" sound.

I don't know if he was thinking about Lorenzo's words or thinking about how to solve the subsequent problems of the wolfsbane potion.

He is not a saint.

But he has compassion for the weak.

Chapter 375: Official invitation? It’s just a cover!

Lorenzo sighed, his voice filled with fatigue:

“Even worse is the distribution of wolfsbane potion. Although the department can produce it, the output is limited and there is a serious differentiation among the grades.

A-grade potions, the kind Damocles Belby used, were ridiculously expensive, and only a very small number of model werewolves with close ties to the Ministry of Magic or werewolves of noble birth could afford them.

Most tribe members could only obtain inferior C-grade potions, which…had severe side effects and even contained hallucinogenic ingredients. Many werewolves became insane as a result, becoming living proof of the devil’s backlash, as the Church called it.

Lupin's face turned extremely ugly when he heard the words "C-grade potion" and "hallucinogenic ingredients".

His clenched fists were so tight that the knuckles turned white, and his nails dug deep into his palms as he tried to use the pain to suppress his surging emotions.

The images of the werewolves going insane due to inferior potions seemed to unfold vividly before his eyes, intertwined with the pain he had experienced himself, making him empathize with them and burn with anger.

After Lorenzo finished speaking, the conference room fell into a brief silence.

Only the sound of Lupin's suppressed breathing rose and fell faintly in the air.

and the sound of Douglas tapping on the table.

Douglas had been listening in silence. When Lorenzo mentioned the hallucinogenic component of the Class C drug, his fingers tapping on the table paused almost imperceptibly.

A cold, sharp gleam flashed in his eyes, as if he was quickly analyzing the composition and toxicity of this inferior potion, as well as the deeper, despicable intentions behind it.

Douglas paused tapping his fingers on the table.

He raised his eyes, his gaze calm but penetrating, looking directly into Lorenzo's tired blue eyes.

"Lorenzo, since the Ministry of Magic knows the dangers of C-grade potions, why doesn't it stop supplying them?"

“Or at least disclose the risks?”

"Allowing the Vatican to make a big fuss about this matter will not be good for the Ministry of Magic or for werewolves."

At this point, Douglas raised the corner of his mouth in a mocking arc.

"Or is this some kind of tacit understanding or deal between the Ministry of Magic and the Holy See?"

Lorenzo's shoulders slumped even more, and he scratched his already messy hair with a bitter smile.

He picked up his coffee cup, trying to hide a flash of embarrassment.

"trade?"

Lorenzo gave a wry smile and put down the cup with a slight clinking sound.

"Douglas, you always hit the nail on the head."

Lorenzo opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but it turned into an almost inaudible sigh, his eyes full of struggle and shame.

"This is all...ah, there are so many things involved, Douglas. There are some things we can't help..."

Before he finished speaking, Isabella, who had been silent all this time, suddenly raised her head, her beautiful face slightly distorted with anger:

"What else could it be? A necessary compromise!"

She almost squeezed out these words from between her teeth, her voice sounding a little hoarse due to suppression.

"Those old stubborn people in the Vatican have the doctrine that werewolves are soulless ingrained in their bones. And yet, our Ministry of Magic needs their tacit approval in certain international affairs."

Isabella curled her lips, a hint of unwillingness flashing in her hazel eyes.

"For example, something involving the recovery of ancient magical objects from the Muggle world, or preventing some fanatical religious group from attempting to 'cleanse' our Ministry of Magic archives."

"So, the C-grade potion became an unspoken victim of this tacit understanding."

She paused, her tone heavy.

"Personally, I'm sick of this kind of compromise."

Lorenzo gave a bitter laugh, lowering his voice to a deeper level, with a profound sense of powerlessness:

“As for the risks of disclosure… do you think we haven’t thought about it?

But how will those people in the Vatican interpret it?

They would say it was the Ministry of Magic's incompetence that couldn't even guarantee basic potion safety.

They would further preach that werewolves were cursed and were punished by God, and that any potion that attempted to interfere with divine punishment was evil.

By then, I'm afraid even the weak suppressive effect of the C-level potion will be completely negated by them."

After saying this, Lorenzo sighed deeply, as if he wanted to expel all the foul air from his lungs.

He picked up the coffee and took another gulp, as if only the scalding liquid could give him some support.

"That's pretty much what Isabella said."

Lupin's face turned even paler.

Their words were like a blunt knife, cutting into his heart again and again.

He could understand the complexity and helplessness of politics, but he could not accept a compromise that used the suffering of his compatriots as a bargaining chip.

His lips were tightly pursed and his Adam's apple rolled up and down, as if he was trying hard to suppress something.

He knew that any emotional speech would be useless at this moment, and he didn't know why Douglas came here.

It was originally thought that Fenrir Greyback was simply being lured away from the British border, or that he was invited to the British Ministry of Magic as a friendly gesture.

But since arriving in Rome, he found that his understanding of Douglas was too one-sided.

He no longer dares to speak casually.

The rage still boiled in his chest, threatening to burn through his sanity, but he forced himself to swallow back the questions and roars.

Douglas's calm yet all-seeing eyes gradually made him realize that this trip to Rome was far more dangerous and complicated than he had imagined.

Any impulsive words he said could disrupt the chess game that Douglas had already laid out.

He had to trust Douglas, just as he trusted his improved wolfsbane potion, and believe that he could find the key to breaking the deadlock.

All he needed to know was that since Douglas brought him here, he would definitely not harm him.

But deep down in his heart, he felt a chill at the systematic injustice and indifference of the Italian Ministry of Magic.

Lorenzo put down the cup and looked at Douglas with complicated eyes.

"Officially, there's a limit to what we can do. The werewolf problem in Italy has never been as simple as regulating magical creatures."

Looking at Lupin, a trace of pity flashed in his eyes, but was then replaced by professional fatigue.

He rubbed his brows, as if trying to dispel the irritability.

"Mr Lupin, I'm so sorry you had to hear this.

The situation in Italy...is indeed much more complicated than in Britain. The power of the Holy See is deeply entrenched here, and their influence permeates every aspect of life."

He paused, as if weighing his words, then glanced subtly at the closed door of the conference room to confirm that the soundproofing charm was still effective.

"In fact, Douglas, Mr. Lupin.

Lorenzo lowered his voice to almost a whisper.

"Your coming here this time is not entirely an official invitation from the Ministry of Magic. Or rather, the official invitation is just a cover."

Douglas raised his eyebrows slightly, seemingly not surprised, and a faint arc appeared at the corner of his mouth.

He picked up the black tea, took a sip, and without saying a word, motioned Lorenzo to continue.

Lorenzo's expression seemed a little uneasy, even a little desperate.

He cleared his throat and continued:

“The real request came from an unconventional channel.