"Well... you could always try to be lazy. It's not like Hermione can watch you all the time," Harry suggested.
"And you can guarantee she won't find out?" Draco asked, his face a picture of despair. "I can't beat her, and she's the Vice Master. Do you remember what happened last time we had a duel in the Guild's combat training area?"
Harry and Ron both shook their heads, looking like curious children.
"She tied me up, then got a bag of Puffskein treats from Zoe and smeared them all over the bottom of my feet."
"Pffft!" Harry and Ron couldn't help but burst out laughing. It made sense now. There was a time they came back to the Guild and heard a pained laughter from the training area. So that's what happened to Draco after he lost a duel!
"Don't you two laugh at me. I heard the Guild Master is going to personally conduct a big inspection before the school year starts. He said he wants to see our progress with the magic circle training. If you fail, we'll see how the Guild Master and that brute of a girl deal with you!" Draco warned, pouting.
"So what if he inspects us? I haven't been slacking off on my training," Ron said with a shrug, looking nonchalant.
"Heh, heh..." Draco suddenly sneered. "Do you know who has the fastest training progress among all the people from our magic circle group?"
"Who?" Ron still didn't realize the seriousness of the situation. He remained unfazed.
"Luna..." Draco gave a mysterious smile. "You know how much the Guild Master spoils Luna. She's a year younger than us. The Guild Master will likely use her as the benchmark for passing. So, do you still think it's nothing to worry about?"
"..." At that moment, after hearing Draco's words, Harry and Ron suddenly felt a chill run up their backs.
In the Fairy Tail Guild, the youngest members were four girls: Luna, Zoe, Sonia, and Ginny. The four of them had joined the Fairy Tail Guild when they were first-year students at Hogwarts, so their fundamentals in both regular spells and magic circle training was practically zero.
If it was discovered that a girl with a zero fundamentals was training at a faster pace than her older peers, they couldn't even imagine what kind of punishment they would face, considering Victor's usual strictness.
A little over a month ago, during the Grand Wizarding Tournament, Ron had fainted from fear after a giant spider was transfigured by a young Gryffindor lion. So, shortly after the summer holiday began, Victor threw him into an Aragog's lair to live with the spiders for a week, which completely cured his arachnophobia.
Thinking about this, Ron's face immediately turned pale. "Oh my god... I need to go find a place to train right now!" he said, and he walked out the door. Harry, also realizing the severity of the situation, quickly followed behind him.
"Hmph!" Draco sneered as he watched the two disappear, then went back to his own training. He was practicing how to use his water magic to pour water from a kettle into cups of different sizes.
But could you imagine that the smallest cup in front of him was only the size of a pinky fingernail? This was a training method Victor had taught him earlier, one that was mentally and visually exhausting.
Just as the members of the Fairy Tail Guild started a month-long training frenzy, Dumbledore left Privet Drive and arrived at a wizarding village near Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Hogsmeade village.
According to legend, over a thousand years ago, shortly after Hogwarts was founded, the wizard Hengist built this village here to escape persecution from Muggles and to seek Hogwarts' protection.
At the moment, Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card without snow. Holly wreaths hung on the doors of the thatched-roofed cottages and shops, and strings of enchanted white candles hung on the trees.
In the center of the village, there was a small, old post office. If you took a turn from there, you'd find a narrow, dirty-looking pub at the end of a small path. A rusty bracket held a rickety wooden sign with a cut-off hog's head on it, and bloodstains seeped into the white cloth that was wrapped around it.
Inside, the ground floor was a pub, and the second floor was a guest house. The pub looked small, dark, and filthy. At first glance, many would think the floor was just packed dirt, but it was actually a stone floor covered in centuries of thick grime.
The windows on the walls were also dim, and even with the bright sunshine outside, the thick mixture of grime on them kept the light from coming in. The only light in the pub came from the white candles stuck on the rough wooden tables.
At the same time, the air always smelled of a disgusting, strong odor of goats.
That's right, this was the Hog's Head Inn. Compared to the Three Broomsticks, which Hogwarts students frequently visited, this was a place where only the shadiest characters came and went. This was where Hagrid had once met a disguised Quirrell and acquired the dragon egg for Norbert.
Pushing open the greasy swinging door, Dumbledore walked to the back of the pub. Behind the bar stood a strange-looking, tall, and thin old man with long grey hair and a white beard. He was wiping a glass with a dirty grey cloth that had been used for who-knows-how-long.
"A butterbeer, please," Dumbledore said, sitting on a high stool.
"What are you doing here? You're not welcome," the white-bearded old man said expressionlessly as he placed the glass back on the rack behind him.
"Aberforth, I'm here because I have some things I'd like to ask you," Dumbledore said, ignoring his brother's coldness. He had become accustomed to it over the years.
"If you're here to ask about him, I have nothing to say," Aberforth replied coldly. He was clearly impatient. "The biggest news lately is that the MacFusty clan has been struggling with their pets. Thanks to your student, those who were supposed to jump out have been caught by Fudge's men, and the smart ones have gone into deeper hiding. As for the Horcruxes..."
"He's a madman, but not so mad that he would reveal his biggest secret. It's a bit naive of you to think you could get information about the Horcruxes from me."
"I'm not here to ask about Tom," Dumbledore said. "I'm just here to get your opinion. Victor Dreyar wants to borrow some books from the Dumbledore family library."
"Heh, I see. You want to let an outsider into our family's castle?" Aberforth scoffed. "You didn't have to go to the trouble of asking me. There are only two of us left in the Dumbledore family. What's the point of hiding those old papers when our family is on the verge of dying out?"
"But you are still a member of the Dumbledore family..."
"Hmph. Do as you please," Aberforth said indifferently. "Letting the family's legacy be passed down in another way is a kind of salvation for us."
"Thank you," Dumbledore said slowly, the two words coming out at a steady pace. He then slowly stood up, ready to leave.
But just then, Aberforth, in a rare turn, stopped him. "Albus Dumbledore, I need you to do something for me." Aberforth suddenly took out a full cup of butterbeer. "Aurelius might be in Albania. Bring him back for me."
"How do you know that?" Dumbledore turned around, surprised.
"I found out a few days ago that a purple, fanged giant snake suddenly appeared in the Albanian jungle. I saw the picture, and it's Nagini," Aberforth replied. "Nagini is Aurelius's only friend. The last time I saw him, he said he was going to look for her."
"Alright, I understand." Dumbledore nodded. "If Aurelius is there, I'll bring him back." With that, he drank the butterbeer he hadn't had in over eighty years, then reluctantly turned and walked away.
The next day, Victor, after taking a bowl of medicine, received a notification from Dumbledore and went to the agreed-upon location: the large gate in front of Hogwarts Castle.
"Oh... you do realize you're smoking, don't you, Victor?" Dumbledore looked at the person in front of him with a look of surprise. He had only seen people who drank the wrong potion have a similar reaction, like smoke coming out of their ears and noses. But what was going on with Victor?
His whole body looked abnormally reddish. Even under the bright sun, Dumbledore could clearly see a wisp of green smoke constantly rising from the top of Victor's head, as if he had just come out of a sauna. But the strange thing was that there wasn't a single drop of sweat on his forehead.
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