Hogwarts: I graduated before the system came

Her gaze returned to the stone tablet, as if she wanted to burn a hole in it with her eyes.

Marco walked forward and placed his hand heavy on his sister's shoulder.

He didn't say anything extra, just listed what had happened in the past few days one by one.

From the fall of the Brotherhood of the Red Moon to the life-and-death battle between Lupin and Greyback.

From that light-forged monster to that little bouncy ball.

As Marco spoke, Isabella's face gradually lost color and finally became as stiff as a stone.

When Lorenzo's name was mentioned, her nails dug into her palms.

A cold, teased feeling shot up from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.

"Lorenzo... he took advantage of me."

This wasn't a question, it was a fact she had to accept, her voice trembling.

Douglas took a few steps from the shadow of the stone tablet. The sunlight shone on him, but it was not very warm.

"Look at it from a bright perspective. He does want to reunite you with your brother."

He stopped in front of Isabella and looked into her fiery eyes.

"By the way, lend me your hand and sweep up the garbage in his yard."

"Let's explore again and see how far those people behind him dare to stretch their legs."

Isabella's breath hitched.

"Go back and tell him."

Douglas's voice was not loud, but it drowned out the wind in the valley.

"Tell him that I have repaid the favor I owed him in Italy."

Isabella's pupils shrank like needles.

"Tell him also that the Vatican's Adam Project has been temporarily suspended. After all, I took away their experimental results, and they are also worried that the International Federation of Wizards will take action against them."

"besides."

Douglas's gaze passed over her and turned to the werewolf figures in the depths of the cave, who were either in awe or curious.

"The Ash Claw tribe is now in the care of Albus Dumbledore and I."

Dumbledore.

This name was like a stone thrown into a stagnant pond, causing violent ripples in Isabella's heart.

Dumbledore.

This name was like a ray of holy light, splitting the haze that had weighed on her heart for years.

Safe...Marco is safe!

A hot joy exploded from her chest and rushed to her eyes, and a broken but real smile bloomed uncontrollably at the corner of her mouth.

But the smile froze before it could warm her cold cheeks.

Because another voice, a voice belonging to an Auror from the Italian Ministry of Magic, screamed in her head - this is not asylum, this is occupation!

The smile froze on her face, turning it into an expression uglier than crying.

Dumbledore...

This name, for her, Marco's sister, is redemption.

But for her, an Auror from the Italian Ministry of Magic, it was a trial.

This is not a refuge, it is a declaration.

A blatant transgression and demonstration against the Italian Ministry of Magic by the highest power in the British wizarding world.

Douglas wasn't seeking collaboration; he was staking out territory.

And she, Isabella Rossi, an Auror loyal to the Italian Ministry of Magic, has now become the messenger delivering the enemy's declaration of war.

The joy that had just begun to emerge quickly turned into a biting chill that crawled up her spine and up the back of her neck.

When she looked at Douglas again, the man in front of her had changed.

Marco felt a little distressed when he saw his sister's appearance, but for the sake of his people behind him, he could not stand on the side of the Ministry of Magic this time.

He gently put his arm around his sister's shoulders.

Isabella forced a smile to show that she was fine.

"If the Italian Ministry of Magic, without considering the consequences, wants to continue to use them as pawns..."

Douglas finally curled up the corners of his mouth into a genuine smile with a hint of chilling emotion.

"...Dumbledore is not too old to lift his wand."

Every word was like an icicle, piercing Isabella's ears.

She knew it wasn't directed at her.

But she still couldn't speak.

It felt like what he was holding in his hand was not a message, but a boiling hot curse that could detonate the entire Italian wizarding world at any time.

"I……"

Isabella opened her mouth, but found her voice was very dry.

"I understand."

She could only utter these four words in the end, her voice so flat that no emotion could be heard, as if all her emotions were crushed by the huge contradictory pressure.

She put her hood back on and buried her face deeply in the shadows.

"Brother, take care of yourself."

She finished speaking to Marco, her voice trembling slightly, something she wasn't even aware of.

Then, she turned around almost as if escaping, and walked out of the valley at a speed almost as fast as running, as if there was an invisible beast chasing her.

She didn't want to stay in this place anymore, a place where her loyalty and family were torn apart.

Lupin walked over to Douglas and looked in the direction Isabella disappeared.

"She's in a difficult situation."

There was an indescribable complexity in his tone.

Douglas's gaze fell back to the tombstone.

"You should mind your own business."

"You've defeated Greyback. Now, you must choose a new banner to fly. A different one."

Lupin fell silent.

He looked down at his hands, where the marks of battle had not yet faded.

These hands have killed people and saved people.

Now, Douglas wants it to carry the flag.

He felt a sudden heaviness on his shoulders, so heavy that he could hardly breathe.

But it was this heaviness that completely filled the void in his heart caused by revenge.

Douglas said no more.

He took out the golden bouncy ball from his pocket.

In the valley where the setting sun was gradually setting, the ball was the only source of light, casting flickering shadows on their faces.

He nonchalantly fiddled with the ball with his fingertips, rolling it between his palm and knuckles.

In the center of the sphere, the light-forged monster's expression was forever frozen in that moment of astonishment.

"What if I put this thing in the newspaper as a lost and found?"

Douglas suddenly spoke, his tone filled with the mischief that only a child could have.

"Will they pretend they didn't see it, or will they send a cardinal to talk to me about lost and found?"

Lupin looked at the golden ball dancing on Douglas's fingertips, imagining the scene, and the corners of his mouth twitched uncontrollably.

A somewhat awkward smile that had not been seen for a long time finally appeared on his face.

"I guess they will hold a three-month meeting to discuss whether this thing is considered a holy artifact."

The wind in the valley took away the last bit of the smell of blood.

The cold stone tablet stands in silence, like the end of an era.

Chapter 433: Damn it, he’s back with shredded potatoes!

The pulling sensation of the door key was like an invisible hook yanking back from the belly button.

The vision was twisted into a colorful rag and then spread out in an instant.

A dry heat wave hit us, mixed with the smell of spices and dust, completely dispersing the cold stone smell of the Italian valley.

Douglas was standing on solid ground, and a piece of brass engraved with a scarab pattern was emitting the last bit of warmth.

He was in a spacious living room.

The thick crimson curtains blocked out the dazzling sunlight outside, leaving only a golden slit in the middle that cut through the darkness in the room like a knife.

An old-fashioned ceiling fan turned tirelessly on the ceiling, emitting a monotonous and hypnotic hum, stirring the stagnant air.

This was his home in Egypt.

Douglas looked around, his eyes sweeping over the several walnut picture frames hanging on the walls.

The most eye-catching one is a photo of him and Bill standing in front of the Pyramids of Giza.

In the photo, Bill's long fiery red hair was flying in the hot desert wind. He was grinning brightly and had one arm tightly around Douglas's shoulders, eager to show off his friend to the whole world.

Douglas was wearing a pair of Muggle sunglasses, with a faint smile on his lips, looking even calmer than the pyramid behind him.

The picture next to it was a photo of him, Bill and Charlie in front of Hogwarts Castle on the eve of graduation.

The three young men stood side by side, with the towering tower and the clear black lake behind them.

They all in the photo still have their youthfulness. Charlie's face is full of longing for the future, Bill has begun to show maturity, and Douglas stands in the middle as always, with eyes that hide something deeper than that of his peers.

Next to it, there's a picture of three people at the Three Broomsticks.

They gathered around a table piled high with butterbeer and food, laughing and falling over.

This photo was taken for them by the owner, Mrs. Rosemerta.

Finally, there is the famous Weasley family photo.

The photo showed a lively chaos, with Mr. Arthur curiously poking at a picture of a moving pyramid and Mrs. Weasley trying to hold the jumping twins in place.

Percy puffed out his chest with a serious expression, while Charlie and Bill, standing behind the crowd, tacitly made a secret gesture that only the three of them understood.

Douglas's gaze lingered on the photo for a few seconds, then he walked towards the study.

On the bookshelf against the wall, next to the Muggle novels and professional books that originally belonged to Douglas, there was a row of brand new books with a strong Egyptian Muggle style.

The spines of the books are printed with gold-plated ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs and modern Arabic - "Corrections to the Runes in the Nile Tombs", "A Map of the Lost Solar Boat's Route", "Secrets of the Wizards and Priests of the Fourth Dynasty", etc.

The edges of the pages of these books were slightly curled, obviously they had been frequently read, and there were still tiny grains of sand on them.

Douglas pulled out the book "Secrets of Wizards and Priests of the Fourth Dynasty", brushed his fingertips across the rough cover, and then gently put it back in its place.

He turned and walked towards the kitchen.

As expected, the refrigerator was filled with food, including bacon and eggs, which the British cannot live without, as well as fresh local vegetables and lamb. In a corner, Douglas even found a small bag of dried chilies and peppercorns from China.

It seems Bill still remembers his taste.

Douglas rolled up his sleeves.

It's time for this curse breaker, who has been dealing with sand and curses for years, to have a taste of real life.

The sizzling sound of butter melting as a frying pan heats over the flame is the beginning of a British morning, and the aroma of sausages and bacon soon fills the kitchen.