Chapter 158 Snape: I am the prophet, Lupin the Iron Wolf, I'm issuing a warrant for your arrest.
Charlie was stunned by the sudden scene, even forgetting to look for Sirius.
Ron Weasley.
Peter Pettigrew.
The two names were stuck together, clearly on the same bed.
Charlie blinked, suspecting he had misread it, wondering if they were just close but actually in their own beds.
He brought the map closer, carefully confirming the two names. Indeed, they were in one sleeping bag, even huddled very close together.
The name Peter sounded distinctly male.
Charlie had been at Hogwarts for three years and had never heard of this person.
He basically knew all the third-year Gryffindor boys, and none were named Peter. Could it be from another year?
But Ron had never mentioned this person.
A strange man Ron had never spoken of was now sleeping in the same bed as him.
Charlie's expression became subtle.
Ron, oh Ron, you've been hiding it well.
Charlie thought back to Ron's usual behavior and suddenly felt some details clicked into place.
Ron was always inseparable from Harry, their relationship was unusually close, and then there was that time after the Quidditch match when Ron was jumping up and down, hugging Harry... What about Fred and George? They were Ron's biological brothers and had held the Marauder's Map for so long. Had they never noticed a strange man in their brother's bed?
Or did they already know and just not tell anyone?
Charlie felt the more he thought about it, the more absurd it became.
However, now was not the time to dwell on this. Charlie took a deep breath, forcing himself to refocus on the main task.
His gaze swept over the map again, searching for the name Sirius Black.
Charlie checked the names in the Great Hall one by one, but still couldn't find him.
Charlie frowned.
Had Sirius already escaped the school?
Finding nothing, Charlie could only put away the map and tap it with his wand.
"Mischief managed."
The lines on the map slowly disappeared, turning back into a plain piece of parchment.
Charlie stuffed the map into his pocket and turned to leave the dormitory.
Since he couldn't find Sirius, he would go back to the Great Hall. He had never tried sleeping on the floor in the Great Hall before, and it sounded quite novel.
As he reached the entrance of the Great Hall, he saw Percy standing in front of Dumbledore, his expression as serious as if he were about to pronounce a major crime.
"Principal, Charlie just left the Great Hall without permission!" Percy's voice was loud, as if afraid others wouldn't hear him.
"As Head Boy, I must report such serious misconduct to you!"
"Percy, you can speak a little softer at night, as other students still need to sleep."
Percy's face was a bit awkward.
Dumbledore turned around, his blue eyes looking at Charlie through his half-moon spectacles.
Charlie walked in without changing his expression.
"I went to pee, I couldn't very well do it in the Great Hall, could I?"
Percy couldn't help but retort.
"You clearly Apparated away!"
"That's right, I had to pee urgently." Charlie shrugged.
"You know how far the Castle toilets are, I was afraid I couldn't hold it."
Dumbledore shook his head helplessly.
"Charlie, next time if you need to leave, please inform a prefect first. Now, go back to your sleeping bag."
Percy opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but ultimately swallowed it back.
Charlie walked back to his sleeping bag.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione immediately gathered around.
"Well?" Harry asked in a low voice. "Did you find Sirius?"
Charlie shook his head.
"He should have already escaped the school."
Harry's face instantly darkened, and the light in his eyes also extinguished.
He bit his lip, clenching and unclenching his fists.
Ron patted Harry's shoulder.
"Don't be discouraged, he can run but he can't hide forever, they'll catch him eventually."
Charlie's gaze fell on Ron, and the scene from the Marauder's Map reappeared in his mind.
What about that Peter? Did he just finish and leave?
Charlie couldn't help but move away from the two of them, leaning closer to Hermione.
The candlelight in the Great Hall gradually dimmed, and the students' whispers slowly faded.
Every hour, a Professor would push open the door and patrol the Great Hall.
Around two or three in the morning, the Great Hall was already filled with the sound of snoring.
Charlie, however, was wide awake.
Years of nocturnal adventures made it impossible for him to sleep at this hour.
After the initial excitement of sleeping on the floor, he now felt a bit bored.
Percy was still playing the big shot, patrolling between the sleeping bags. Whenever he saw a student who wasn't asleep, he would walk over and reprimand them in a low voice.
But when he saw Charlie staring with wide eyes, he simply pretended not to see him.
He had also realized that this person was not to be trifled with.
At this moment, the door of the Great Hall was pushed open again.
Dumbledore walked in, his robes covered with a bit of dust, his silver beard swaying slightly in the candlelight.
Percy immediately went up to him, asking in a low voice, "Principal, any leads?"
Dumbledore shook his head.
"Unfortunately, no. But I have found a new guardian for the Gryffindor common room, you can move back tomorrow."
Percy's expression relaxed, but then he remembered something.
"What about the fat lady? Where did she go?"
"Hiding in the map of Argyllshire on the third floor." Dumbledore sighed.
"Her emotions are unstable, and she needs some time to recover."
Charlie listened to their conversation and saw the door of the Great Hall open again.
Snape walked in, his black robes trailing behind him like bat wings.
His gaze swept across the Great Hall, landing precisely on Charlie.
The two exchanged glances for a moment.
Snape saw that Charlie was still awake but said nothing, turning to walk towards Dumbledore.
Charlie was a bit surprised that Snape wasn't bothering him, which was rare.
"Principal." Snape's voice was low.
"The entire school has been searched, and no abnormalities have been found."
Dumbledore nodded.
"I also guessed he wouldn't stay in the school."
"I didn't expect him to be an Animagus." Snape's tone carried a hint of coldness.
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
It seemed the Professors also guessed that the big black dog was Sirius Black.
Snape paused, then continued:
"Have you considered how he got in, Professor?"
As he said this, he subtly glanced at Charlie again.
Charlie's heart skipped a beat.
What was this old bat implying now?
Dumbledore was silent for a moment.
"I have some thoughts, but no evidence."
"Is that so?" Snape's voice grew even colder.
"Do you remember what I said last time, Principal? He couldn't have gotten into the school without inside help."
Having said that, Snape gave Charlie another meaningful look.
Charlie rolled his eyes, you might as well write 'Lupin is the mole' on your face.
This old Snape was just fixated on him, wasn't he? Determined to drag him into his conflict with Professor Lupin?
Charlie had no interest in getting involved in their personal grievances.
Sorry, not very familiar, going to sleep now.
He simply closed his eyes, adjusted to a comfortable position, and promptly fell asleep.
Snape looked at Charlie's defiant attitude, his face as black as coal.
Chapter 159 Snape's Substitute Lesson
Dumbledore's expression turned serious, his blue eyes looking at Snape, deep and earnest.
"Severus, I don't believe anyone in the Castle would help Black break in."
His tone was calm, but brooks no argument.
"This topic is closed."
A flicker of unwillingness flashed in Snape's Black eyes. He seemed to want to say something more but ultimately remained silent.
"Of course, of course, you are the Principal, what you say goes."
"However, we haven't found any trace of Black, and the Dementors are probably getting restless again."
Dumbledore nodded.
"I will inform them once the search is complete."
Percy, listening to the two Professors' conversation, couldn't help but interject.
"Principal, why not let the Dementors help with the search? Aren't they specialized in catching fugitives?"
"Percy, Dementors might be good at finding people," Dumbledore said coldly.
"But as long as I am the Principal of Hogwarts, I will not allow those things inside the school gates."
Percy's face looked a bit awkward. Dumbledore and Snape turned and left.
In the following days, the entire school was discussing who that large Black dog was, and the theories about how it got into the school became increasingly bizarre.
During Herbology Class, Hannah confidently told her classmates around her:
"That dog is definitely a hellhound! It burrowed directly into the school from underground!"
Hermione felt that she had been corrupted by Professor Trelawney, and her opinion of Professor Trelawney worsened.
Gryffindor's common room also got a new guardian.
the fat lady's portrait was moved, replaced by Sir Cadogan.
Sir Cadogan wore rusty armor and rode a plump pony. His sword hung crookedly at his waist, and a broken feather was stuck in his helmet.
If Charlie saw him, he would surely recognize him as the portrait that gave him wrong directions during his first night stroll.
Harry was under close surveillance at school. Professors could always be seen in the corridors, finding various excuses to linger around Harry.
Percy, in particular, followed Harry like a police dog every day.
Charlie wondered if he should hit him with a Stupefy this weekend, otherwise, how would he go to Hogsmeade to fish for Sirius?
This week in Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, Charlie froze as soon as he walked into the classroom.
Standing at the podium was not Professor Lupin, but Snape.
Snape wore his iconic Black robes, arms crossed over his chest, greasy Black hair plastered to his cheeks, exuding an aura that kept people away.
However, Charlie felt that Snape seemed a bit happy?
What the hell, Professor Snape actually had moments of happiness.
"Professor Lupin is indisposed today," Snape's voice was low and slow.
"He entrusted me to substitute."
A collective groan echoed through the classroom.
Ron slumped on his desk, muttering softly:
"Seeing his sour face in Potion Class once a week is bad enough, now we have to see it again."
Hermione glared at him, signaling him to be quiet.
Charlie, however, didn't care; it was all the same no matter who taught.
Snape's gaze swept across the classroom, finally landing on Charlie. The two made eye contact for a few seconds.
Charlie looked at him expressionlessly.
Snape's mouth twitched slightly, as if suppressing some emotion. He turned around and wrote a few lines on the blackboard.
"Where is Professor Lupin's teaching progress?" Snape asked.
"What has he taught you?"
Hermione's hand shot up, her whole body almost standing.
But Snape completely ignored her, instead turning his gaze back to Charlie.
"Mr. White." Snape's voice grew several degrees colder.
"You seem very idle."
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"Why don't you answer my question?" Snape walked down from the podium.
"Do you understand what respect for teachers means? Hufflepuff loses 5 points."
Charlie: ?
Dude, did you even ask? Now you're just arbitrarily deducting points, not even pretending?
Snape looked at Charlie with satisfaction.
You little punk, letting you deliberately ignore my hints.
Charlie almost laughed out loud at Snape.
He's a Professor, after all, how can he be so petty?
But it's fine, deduct whatever you want, I'll have Cedric use your Slytherin as a kindergarten playground in Quidditch.
If I don't widen the score gap to 500 points, I'll write Harry's name backward.
Just then, the classroom door was pushed open.
Harry ran in, breathless, his robes still splattered with mud, his hair messy as if blown by the wind.
He looked like he had just finished Quidditch practice.
He was about to apologize for his lateness, but seeing Snape standing at the podium instead of Lupin, he froze at the doorway.
Snape turned around, his Black eyes fixed on Harry.
"Harry Potter." Snape's voice was slow, but every word carried a chill.
"Ten minutes late, Gryffindor loses ten points."
"Find a seat, no one here wants to waste time on you."
Harry walked with his head down and sat next to Ron.
Ron leaned over and whispered, "Professor Lupin is sick, Snape is substituting."
Snape looked around the classroom and said in a low voice.
"Back to the topic, regarding your learning progress, Professor Lupin left no records..."
Hermione's hand shot up even higher, her whole body almost springing from her seat.
"Excuse me, sir, we've learned about Boggart, Red Caps, Kappa, and Grindylow," Hermione said quickly, her words a rapid-fire succession.
"And we're about to start learning..."
"Quiet." Snape interrupted her coldly.
Hermione froze, her hand still raised in the air.
"I wasn't asking you." Snape's voice grew several degrees colder.
"I just think Professor Lupin's teaching progress is too slow."
Hermione was dumbfounded. Just now Charlie didn't answer and you wanted to deduct points, now I answer and you tell me to shut up.
If I answer your questions again, I'm a dog!
Charlie leaned back in his chair, watching Snape pace back and forth on the podium.
Did he eat something wrong today or what?
"It seems Professor Lupin hasn't burdened you much." Snape's tone was full of sarcasm.
"I believe first-year students should already be capable of dealing with Red Caps and Grindylow. Today we will discuss..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the classroom, finally stopping on Charlie.
"Werewolf."
As he said the word, Snape's eyes fixed on Charlie, a certain hidden meaning in his gaze.
Charlie rolled his eyes.
Big dummy Snape, what the hell do you want?
Just say it, no more riddles.
Hermione raised her hand again, this time her movement was more urgent.
"But, sir." Hermione's voice carried clear dissatisfaction.
"We shouldn't be learning about Werewolves yet, we should be starting with Hinkypunks..."
"Miss Granger." Snape turned around and said calmly.
The air in the classroom instantly solidified.
"I seem to recall that I am teaching this class, not you." Snape slowly walked to Hermione's desk, looking down at her.
"Or do you believe that you know better than I do what should be taught?"
Hermione's face grew redder, but she didn't lower her head.
"No, sir, I just—"
"Then please be quiet." Snape interrupted her, turned, and walked back to the podium.
"Now everyone turn to page 394."
Chapter 160 is truly a werewolf!
The students rolled their eyes indignantly, and the pages rustled.
"Can anyone tell me how to distinguish between a Werewolf and a true wolf?"
Snape's voice echoed in the classroom.
The students kept their heads down, some staring at their textbooks, others at their desks; no one dared to meet Snape's gaze.
It was well-known that once you made eye contact with the Professor, you'd become the lucky guest, rewarded with a question.
Only Hermione.
Once again, she raised her hand straight up, almost springing from her seat.
It was truly difficult to suppress the urge to answer the question!
Snape's gaze swept over her as if she were air.
"Who can answer?"
Snape continued to ask, a sneer on his face.
"Are you telling me Professor Lupin hasn't told you the fundamental difference between the two..."
"Please, Professor."
Hermione's voice interrupted him.
Her hand was still raised, and there was clear urgency in her tone.
She wanted to prove that Professor Lupin's teaching was excellent and speak up for Professor Lupin.
"There are several minor differences between a Werewolf and a true wolf.
A Werewolf's snout..."
"This is the second time you've spoken out of turn, Miss Granger."
Snape's voice grew colder.
He slowly walked to Hermione's desk, looking down at her.
"Gryffindor, five points deducted again, all thanks to an insufferable know-it-all."
Hermione's face instantly flushed red.
She lowered her hand, bowed her head, and tears welled in her eyes.
A suppressed grinding of teeth filled the classroom.
The students all glared at Snape, their eyes full of displeasure.
Although many people thought Hermione was a know-it-all, today's incident arose because Snapeslandered Lupin, and Professor Lupin had already earned everyone's respect through his performance during this time.
Harry's face was ashen, and Ron stood up directly.
"You asked a question, she knows the answer!"
"If you don't want an answer, why ask?"
Snape's gaze fell on Ron, his eyes as cold as a knife in an ice cellar.
"Mr. Weasley." Snape's voice was so soft that everyone in the classroom held their breath.
"Detention in my office tonight."
Ron's face turned crimson, even the tips of his ears were bright red.
Damn it, that was impulsive.
"If I hear you question my teaching methods again." Snape slowly walked to Ron's desk, leaned down, his black robes hanging down like bat wings.
"I guarantee you won't even have time to regret it."
He spoke softly, but everyone in the classroom heard him clearly.
Ron's Adam's apple bobbed, but he said nothing, finally sitting back in his chair.
Charlie leaned back in his chair, staring at Snape's back.
This guy was indeed acting strangely today.
Although Snape usually liked to deduct points, his aggression today was exceptionally strong.
And it was basically all directed at Professor Lupin; Hermione, who tried to defend Professor Lupin, merely suffered collateral damage.
What, did Snape get bitten by a Werewolf?
Snape returned to the podium, picked up a piece of chalk, and wrote a few lines on the blackboard.
"Werewolves lose their minds during the full moon." Snape turned around, his gaze sweeping over every student in the classroom.
"They will attack any creature that comes near, whether human or animal."
"Therefore, Werewolves among people will move away from crowds during the full moon.
This is one of the simplest ways to identify a Werewolf."
"At the same time, because Werewolves experience agonizing torment during transformation, they will also remain weak for a period after the transformation ends."
He paused, then continued:
"The danger of Werewolves is not only in their attack power."
"It's also in their stealth."
"They can disguise themselves as ordinary people and blend into crowds." Snape's tone carried a certain hidden meaning.
"Until the full moon arrives, they will reveal their true nature."
Snape stopped, his gaze falling on Charlie again.
"So I hope you can keep your eyes peeled and identify who the Werewolf is!"
Charlie raised an eyebrow; this was almost a direct hint.
Was Snape implying there was a Werewolf among them?
Was he trying to say Professor Lupin?
Professor Lupin had indeed been sickly.
And Professor Lupin had taken leave today; as for whether it was a full moon, Charlie wasn't sure.
The atmosphere in the classroom grew increasingly oppressive.
The students kept their heads down, not daring to make a sound.
The bell finally rang.
Snape put down the chalk and turned to face the students.
"Homework." His voice was icy.
"Write an essay on how to identify and kill a Werewolf.
Two rolls of parchment, due next Monday."
A chorus of groans filled the classroom.
"Weasley." Snape's gaze fell on Ron.
"Stay behind and hear what your detention is."
The other students filed out of the classroom, only daring to start criticizing Snape once they were far away.
"Snape has never targeted previous Defense Against the Dark Arts Professors like this.
Even when Lockhart often bothered him, Snape just told him to get lost." Harry said to Hermione with a frown.
Hermione said worriedly:
"Why is he so against Professor Lupin?
Could it be because the Boggart turned into him, making him feel humiliated?"
Harry nodded.
"Possibly.
I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon."
Charlie walked at the back, saying nothing.
His mind was already connecting Snape's unusual behavior today.
Deliberately talking about Werewolves, emphasizing that they lose their minds during the full moon, hinting that there's a Werewolf among the crowd—these explicit and implicit hints combined, the answer was already very clear.
Snape wanted the students to guess that Professor Lupin was a Werewolf...
But Charlie didn't plan to voice this speculation.
It wasn't to protect Professor Lupin, but because Snape, that old bat, had zero credibility with him.
What if this guy was purely acting out of personal grudges, deliberately framing him?
To find out if Professor Lupin was truly a Werewolf, all he needed to do was look at the moon tonight.
Time came to evening.
Charlie pulled back the curtains in the dormitory, and the night sky outside was clear.
A full moon hung in the center of the sky, large and round, emitting a silver-white glow.
Charlie stared at the full moon for a few seconds, his mouth twitching.
Well, Professor Lupin was probably a Werewolf.
He turned back to his bed, lay down, and clasped his hands behind his head.
Three years.
Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor had had problems for three consecutive years.
The first year was Quirrell, possessed by Lord Voldemort; the second year was Lockhart, a fraud who only boasted; and the third year brought a Werewolf.
Where did old Dumbledore find such 'talented' individuals?
But then again, even though Professor Lupin was a Werewolf, his teaching was actually quite good.
At least much better than the previous two.
Charlie closed his eyes, and another thought popped into his head—Snape knew Lupin was a Werewolf, but would Dumbledore not know?
He definitely knew.
So why did Dumbledore still hire Lupin as a Professor?
Chapter 161 Quidditch Match
Early in the morning, a quarrel broke out between Ron and Hermione at the Hufflepuff long table.
Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, crouched on the edge of the table, his yellow eyes fixed on Scabbers, the rat in Ron's arms.
Scabbers huddled in Ron's pocket, trembling.
Ron shielded Scabbers and glared at Hermione.
"Control your cat!" Ron yelled.
"He keeps staring at Scabbers, scaring him so much he won't even come out!"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Crookshanks is just curious, he doesn't catch rats."
"Then what's he doing staring at Scabbers, mouth open and drooling? Appreciating art?"
Hermione lifted Crookshanks' chin and pinched his muzzle.
"Crookshanks is a smart cat, he's just observing."
Ron glared fiercely at Crookshanks; Hermione's words annoyed him.
Scabbers was his only pet; he hadn't owned many things truly his since childhood, and Scabbers was one of them, so he didn't want anything to happen to Scabbers.
Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Harry, you be the judge!" Ron's tone carried obvious grievance.
Harry, caught between his two friends, looked a little troubled.
He looked at Ron, then at Hermione, and finally spoke.
"Hermione, to be honest, the way Crookshanks looks at Scabbers really isn't quite right," Harry said cautiously.
Upon hearing this, Hermione hugged Crookshanks even tighter, sat back in her chair huffily, and began vigorously poking the fried egg on her plate.
Ron smugly leaned against Harry, even raising an eyebrow at Hermione.
Charlie looked at Ron's hand on Harry's shoulder, his expression subtle.
Ever since he saw Pettigrew's name last time, Charlie had felt something was off with Ron.
Harry had faced life and death with him, but he didn't expect him to try to kill Harry.
Charlie quietly moved sideways, putting some distance between himself and the two.
Just then, Wood walked over from the Gryffindor long table.
He was wearing his Quidditch uniform, his face etched with seriousness.
Wood walked behind Harry and suddenly squeezed Harry's shoulder.
"Harry," Wood's voice was deep and earnest.
"Are you ready for today's Quidditch match?"
It turned out today was the first Quidditch match of the semester, Hufflepuff against Gryffindor.
Harry flinched from the squeeze and quickly sat up straight.
"I'm ready, Wood," Harry nodded solemnly.
"Yesterday, I practiced the tactics you designed for an extra hour."
A flicker of satisfaction passed through Wood's eyes.
"We will definitely win."
Cedric, who was drinking pumpkin juice nearby, put down his cup when he heard this and smiled gently.
"Wood, confidence is a good thing," Cedric's tone was relaxed, but his words carried an edge.
"But if you treat us as ordinary opponents, then you will definitely lose."
Wood suddenly turned his head, his eyes fixed on Cedric.
Their gazes clashed in the air, sparks almost flying.
"Is that so?" Wood's lips curved into a smile.
"Then let's wait and see."
Cedric also smiled, but that smile was full of fire... A heavy rainstorm fell on Hogwarts in autumn.
Large raindrops pelted the stands of the Quidditch Pitch, making a continuous pattering sound.
The sky was dark and oppressive, with rolling black clouds, as if they were about to swallow the entire Castle.
But this rain did not deter the students' enthusiasm.
The entire faculty and student body still filled the Quidditch Pitch, and the stands of each house were packed with people.
Some held umbrellas, some wore raincoats, and others simply got drenched, their faces flushed with excitement.
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sat in the Slytherin stands, sheltered by a huge black umbrella.
Malfoy sat with his legs crossed, holding a small notebook, occasionally writing something down.
"Diggory's flying speed is faster than last year," Malfoy squinted, staring at the pitch.
"But Potter, that scar-head, looks like he's not in good form; he almost got hit by a Bludger just now."
Crabbe grinned foolishly and nodded. "Boss, you're amazing."
"Stop flattering me," Malfoy glanced at him.
"We're here to gather intelligence; when Slytherin plays them, we'll surely win easily."
In the Hufflepuff stands, Hermione held a yellow umbrella, its surface pattering loudly from the rain.
She stood next to Charlie, looking annoyed.
"Why do I have to hold the umbrella for you?" Hermione's voice showed clear displeasure.
Charlie leaned back in his seat, hands in his pockets, looking as if it were only natural.
"Because you are kind, and can't stand to see someone get wet in the rain."
Several black lines immediately appeared on Hermione's forehead.
"You're so mean."
But one umbrella couldn't completely block the downpour.
When the wind blew, the rain slanted in, landing on Charlie's pant leg.
Charlie looked down at his soaked pant leg and made a 'tsk' sound.
He drew his wand and waved it casually.
A translucent light screen spread from the tip of his wand, quickly forming an arched barrier that encompassed Charlie, Hermione, Ron, Ernie, and Justin.
The rain hit the light screen with a fine pattering sound, but it could no longer seep through.
At the same time, his soaked pant leg dried.
Hermione was stunned.
"What Spell is that?"
Charlie put away his wand.
"It's not a Spell, just a little application of magic."
As almost all of Charlie's Spells reached level four, his understanding of magic gradually deepened.
Simple applications like this didn't require any Spells; what he thought, happened.
Ron looked impressed but didn't quite understand, but praising was enough.
"Awesome, Charlie."
Hermione bit her lip, looking at Charlie with complex eyes.
The gap seemed to be getting wider and wider.
On the pitch, Cedric's uniform was already soaked.
He squinted, circling in the air, his gaze constantly sweeping the pitch.
The golden wings of the golden snitch flashed in the rain.
Cedric sharply pulled his broom and dove in that direction.
The rain stung his face; he reached out, his fingertips almost touching the golden snitch.
But just then, a gust of wind blew, pushing the golden snitch off course, and it slipped from his fingertips.
Cedric gritted his teeth and pulled his broom up again.
A sigh of regret erupted from the Hufflepuff stands.
"Damn weather!" Ernie pounded the armrest of his seat.
Charlie's gaze fell on Harry on the other side of the pitch.
Harry looked to be in very bad shape.
His glasses were covered in rain, and he swayed precariously on his broom.
A Bludger flew towards him, and Harry reacted half a beat too late, almost getting hit in the head.
Hermione frowned.
"The rain is all over Harry's glasses; he can't see anything."
Wood on the field also noticed the problem and raised his hand to signal the referee to pause the game.
Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and the players descended to the ground.
Without a word, Hermione put away her wand and rushed into the rain, running to Harry's side, pointing her wand at his glasses.
"Impervious!"
A silvery-white light shot from the tip of her wand, enveloping Harry's glasses.
The rain hit the lenses and immediately slid off, no longer obscuring his vision.
Harry gave a grateful smile.
"Thank you, Hermione!"
Hermione nodded and turned to run back.
When she returned to the stands, she was drenched like a drowned rat, completely soaked, her hair plastered to her face.
Charlie waved his hand casually.
The water on Hermione's body instantly evaporated, and her hair returned to its fluffy state.
"Thanks."
Hermione smiled and sat back down in her seat.
Chapter 162 The Dementors Attack
The match resumed.
Harry mounted his broom and soared into the air.
This time, his vision was much clearer, and he moved faster across the Quidditch Pitch.
A cheer erupted from the Gryffindor stands.
Another bolt of lightning struck the sky, illuminating the entire Quidditch Pitch.
In that instant, Harry and Cedric spotted the golden snitch almost simultaneously.
The tiny golden sphere hovered above the Quidditch Pitch, its wings trembling slightly in the rain.
The two exchanged a glance, then simultaneously pulled up their brooms and charged towards the golden snitch.
"Quick!" Ernie stood up and shouted.
"Cedric, catch it!"
Everyone in the Hufflepuff stands rose to their feet, waving scarves and banners.
Gryffindor was not to be outdone, their cheers shaking the heavens.
Harry and Cedric flew higher and higher, their brooms tracing two arcs in the sky.
Rain lashed their faces, and the wind roared in their ears.
The golden snitch flew erratically, up and down, not far in front of them.
Cedric gritted his teeth, pressing his body against his broom, and increased his speed even further.
Harry was unwilling to fall behind, practically lying flat on his broom.
The distance between them grew shorter and shorter, almost to the point of collision.
The golden snitch suddenly made a sharp turn and flew higher.
Harry and Cedric simultaneously pulled up their brooms, continuing the chase.
They had already flown above the stands, getting further and further from the ground.
At this moment, the clouds in the sky grew even darker, so dark that no light could penetrate them.
Charlie suddenly felt a bone-chilling coldness wash over him.
He instinctively pulled his robes tighter and looked up at the sky.
Within the cloud layer, countless black figures were swirling.
Tattered cloaks fluttered in the wind, and decaying hands reached out from their sleeves.
Dementors.
A dense swarm of Dementors swooped down from the clouds, heading towards the Quidditch Pitch.
The cheers on the Quidditch Pitch abruptly ceased, replaced by screams of terror.
Charlie saw Harry's face instantly turn ashen, his entire body frozen on his broom.
His hands released the broom, and he plummeted straight down.
Cedric faced the Dementors head-on, but taking advantage of the remaining distance, he quickly reached out and caught the golden snitch, only to turn back and witness this scene.
He wanted to save Harry, but several Dementors were already following him, moving incredibly fast.
An angry roar came from the Professor's stands: "Arresto Momentum!"
A beam of light struck Harry, and his descent immediately slowed.
Dumbledore had intervened.
Charlie frowned.
The sudden appearance of the Dementors had completely ruined Charlie's mood for watching the match.
He drew his wand and stood up.
"Expecto Patronum."
Charlie's voice was soft, but a dazzling silver light erupted from the tip of his wand.
A silver dragon burst forth from the wand, circling as it flew into the sky.
The dragon grew rapidly against the wind, becoming colossal in the blink of an eye, its scales gleaming with a cold light in the rain.
As the Dementors reached the Quidditch Pitch, they saw the silver dragon open its massive mouth and pounce on them.
The leading Dementors immediately changed direction, attempting to flee.
But the dragon's speed was too great; it caught up to them instantly.
The silver dragon opened its maw and swallowed the three Dementors at the very front.
The other Dementors let out piercing shrieks, desperately trying to escape into the clouds.
But the dragon circled once in the air, flicked its tail, and swept up another seven or eight Dementors, swallowing them all.
However, the Dementors were numerous and scattered wildly in the air.
Other Professors in the Professor's stands also cast the Patronus Charm, and several silvery-white spectral figures soared into the sky, working with Charlie's silver dragon to completely drive the remaining Dementors away from the Quidditch Pitch.
Deafening thunder rumbled again, and the pouring rain continued.
The clamor on the Quidditch Pitch had long been replaced by bone-chilling cold and fear.
Harry's teammates were the first to react, rushing desperately towards where Harry had fallen.
Dumbledore was already standing there, waving his wand to remove the Cushioning Charm from Harry.
The Principal's face was terribly grim; his usually gentle and mischievous blue eyes now held only cold fury.
The aura he exuded seemed to solidify the air around him.
"How is he?" Angelina asked anxiously, her voice trembling.
"He just fainted, nothing serious," Dumbledore said after checking Harry's condition.
"Take him to Madam Pomfrey."
Fred and George fumbled with a stretcher, lifted Harry, and hurried away from the Quidditch Pitch.
Wood stood rooted to the spot, dazed, rain streaming down his cheeks, indistinguishable from tears.
"Hufflepuff wins!" Madam Hooch blew the final whistle.
Cedric walked quickly to Wood, his face devoid of any joy of victory. He held out his hand, offering the golden snitch.
"This doesn't count, Wood," Cedric's voice was sincere.
"Harry had an accident; we should have a rematch."
Wood's vacant eyes finally showed a flicker of emotion. He looked at Cedric, his lips moved, but no words came out.
"Diggory, rules are rules," Madam Hooch approached, her expression serious.
"No one called for a halt to the game before you caught the snitch. The score is valid, Hufflepuff won."
Wood took a deep breath, as if expending all his strength.
He pushed away Cedric's outstretched hand.
"No," his voice was hoarse, as if abraded by sandpaper.
"You won fair and square; there's no need for a rematch."
Hermione and Ron followed Fred and George's stretcher to the hospital wing.
Charlie planned to visit later; the hospital wing was surely crowded now.
Just then, Dumbledore's voice came from nearby.
"Charlie."
The Principal was looking at Charlie, his face unreadable.
"Would you please come with me?"
Charlie shrugged and followed him.
The enormous silver dragon circled once in the air, let out a clear, resonant roar, then rapidly shrunk, transforming into a small silver dragon the length of a forearm, landing lightly on Charlie's shoulder and rubbing its head against his cheek.
The dozen or so Dementors in its belly also shrunk with it; they seemed to have no volume or mass.
The two walked one after another, silently through the empty corridor, heading to the Principal's office.
"Earwax-flavored Every Flavor Beans."
Dumbledore spoke the password to the gargoyle.
Charlie looked disgusted; what kind of things were these to eat?
The gargoyle rotated aside, revealing the spiral staircase behind it, and the two entered the office.
"Your Patronus is truly a remarkable masterpiece."
Dumbledore walked behind his desk, took a shiny silver box from a drawer, and placed it on the table.
"Its form is more solid and refined than any Patronus I have ever seen."
"However, Dementors cannot be destroyed, so let's keep them contained in this box for now."
Charlie patted the small dragon on his shoulder.
The small dragon flew to the table, opened its mouth towards the silver box, and spat out a dozen black mists.
As soon as the black mists left the dragon's mouth, they began to twist and struggle, emitting sharp shrieks.
Dumbledore quickly closed the lid and locked the box.
"Remarkable control."
"Would you like some sweets? Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans? Or try this, Honeydukes' new Cockroach Clusters."
Charlie remembered the earwax flavor from the password and politely shook his head.
Not long after, there was a knock on the office door.
"Come in," Dumbledore said.
The door opened, and a short, stout man wearing a pinstriped cloak walked in.
He clutched a green bowler hat in his hand, his face showing a hint of anxiety and obsequiousness.
It was none other than the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.
Chapter 163 The Sucker, Fudge
Fudge's forehead was covered in sweat.
He wiped his face with a handkerchief, his gaze darting between Dumbledore and Charlie.
"Albus, this is truly a disaster," Fudge's voice was filled with anxiety.
"Dementors actually lost control. If this gets out, where will the Ministry of Magic put its face?"
Charlie glanced at him.
Good heavens, a student nearly got hurt, and his first reaction was the Ministry of Magic losing face? As expected, politicians' hearts are all dirty.
Professor Dumbledore's expression was calm, but there was no hint of a smile in his blue eyes.
"Cornelius, I think what you should be more concerned about is why the Dementors sent by the Ministry of Magic to guard the school would suddenly attack students."
"A third-year student fell from his broom and nearly died."
Fudge's face grew even uglier.
He crumpled his bowler hat and his lips moved a few times.
"This is just an accident, Albus," Fudge argued.
"The Dementors might have sensed something, which caused such a reaction. And ultimately, Hogwarts' protective measures were not perfect enough, failing to prepare in advance to defend against Dementors."
"Cornelius, it was the Ministry of Magic that insisted on deploying Dementors around Hogwarts. I clearly expressed my opposition at the time, but you believed it was a necessary security measure."
Professor Dumbledore's tone grew a few degrees colder.
New beads of sweat appeared on Fudge's forehead.
He wiped it with his handkerchief, attempting to change the subject.
"Albus, now is not the time to discuss responsibility."
"The key is how to handle the aftermath and how to explain this matter to the students' parents."
Professor Dumbledore looked deeply at Fudge.
"The Ministry of Magic must take responsibility for this. Dementors harmed my students; they lost control due to hunger, and the students' emotions on the Quidditch Pitch became a delicious meal in their eyes."
Fudge's face became even more awkward.
"Perhaps, Hogwarts needs more professional security forces," Fudge said cautiously.
"The Ministry of Magic can dispatch Aurors to assist..."
Hearing this, Charlie couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Fudge looked at Charlie with displeasure.
"Mr. White, is there something funny?"
"Sorry, Minister," Charlie's tone sounded not at all apologetic.
"I was just wondering, is the Ministry of Magic combined a match for Professor Dumbledore?"
Fudge's face instantly flushed red.
"Professor Dumbledore is indeed formidable, but our Aurors at the Ministry of Magic are all elites."
"They have received the most professional training, and their combat power is very strong."
Charlie made a gesture of recollection, tilting his head in thought.
"But the two times I fought them before, they felt pretty useless," Charlie's tone was very serious.
The office fell into a deathly silence.
A trace of a smile flashed in Professor Dumbledore's blue eyes, but it quickly vanished.
Fudge was so angry in that instant that his lips trembled.
His Aurors couldn't even defeat a student, which made his earlier statement about the Ministry of Magic being responsible for security sound like a joke.
"I won't engage in a war of words with you."
Fudge expressionlessly changed the subject.
"Albus, the leader of the Dementors said you captured their companions."
"Those Dementors are guards from Azkaban and are unofficial members of the Ministry of Magic."
"I hope you can release them."
Professor Dumbledore didn't answer immediately but turned to look at Charlie.
"Cornelius, I need to tell you that those Dementors were captured by Charlie."
"They are Charlie's spoils of war; you should ask Charlie."
Fudge, as a qualified politician, was able to speak to Charlie without changing his expression, even after losing face in front of him just now.
"Mr. White, about this matter..."
"I'll listen to the Principal."
A glimmer of hope flashed in Fudge's eyes, and he immediately turned to Professor Dumbledore.
"Albus, you see..."
"If Charlie thinks it's okay, then it's okay."
Fudge's recently adjusted mindset collapsed again. Are these two people walking a dog?
"Minister, according to the Ministry of Magic's laws, what crime should be punished for attacking students?"
Charlie asked indifferently.
"Naturally, imprisonment."
"Then, as a public servant who knowingly breaks the law, shouldn't the punishment be increased?"
Fudge vaguely sensed something bad, but still nodded.
"From a legal perspective, that should indeed be the case."
"Then these Dementors will just stay in the box."
Fudge's face instantly turned ashen.
If it were just Charlie, he naturally wouldn't have to care, but Professor Dumbledore's opinion was the most important.
If Professor Dumbledore supported Charlie, and given that his Dementors were in the wrong first, Fudge would not be able to release the Dementors.
He turned to Professor Dumbledore, his eyes pleading.
Professor Dumbledore spread his hands, a gentle smile appearing on his face.
"Cornelius, you heard him. I can't control him either."
Fudge took a deep breath. Professor Dumbledore was indeed on Charlie's side.
"Albus, what about the remaining Dementors?" Fudge tried to salvage the situation.
"They are still around Hogwarts; you can't possibly capture all of them, can you?"
"Cornelius, the remaining Dementors will also be withdrawn," Professor Dumbledore's tone was unequivocal.
"Continuing to stay at the school will only endanger student safety. Today's incident has already proven this point."
"But what about Sirius?" Fudge's voice rose a few pitches.
"Without Dementor guards, Sirius will sneak into the school!"
Charlie rolled his eyes inwardly; someone had already snuck into the school long ago.
"The Professors will be responsible for the school's safety," Professor Dumbledore stood up and walked to the window.
"As for the Dementors, they should return to Azkaban. The threat they pose here far outweighs the protection they provide."
Seeing that Professor Dumbledore had made up his mind, Fudge understood that he could not change Professor Dumbledore's will and could only say helplessly.
"Alright, I'll make the arrangements."
Fudge got up and left, filled with grievance and anger.
The moment the door closed, Charlie rubbed his hands.
"Principal, can I study those Dementors?"
Professor Dumbledore had just picked up his teacup; hearing this, his movements paused.
He put down the teacup and looked at Charlie.
"Why do you want to study Dementors?"
"I found that they have no mass, can be compressed at will, and are immortal. I want to study what exactly a Dementor is."
"Charlie," Professor Dumbledore's tone became serious.
"Dark Arts, or Dark Arts creatures, all have a special allure."
"They will make people indulge, make people lost."
"Many Wizards have gone down a path of no return precisely because they were too interested in Dark Arts."
Charlie waved his hand.
"Principal, I'm just curious," Charlie's tone was very relaxed.
"Just like some people are curious why Dragons can breathe fire, and some are curious why a Phoenixcan be reborn from the ashes."
"I won't indulge in Dark Arts."
Professor Dumbledore stared into Charlie's eyes for a long time.
Charlie didn't avoid his gaze, looking at him openly.
Professor Dumbledore sighed.
He understood that even if he didn't give it to him now, as long as Charlie wanted it, he would definitely get it.
With his ability, catching a few Dementors was not difficult.
Rather than letting Charlie secretly study them privately, it was better to give them to him directly, lest it deepen his rebellious psychology.
Professor Dumbledore picked up the silver square box on the table and handed it to Charlie.
"Remember what you said," Professor Dumbledore's tone was very calm.
"Don't let yourself get lost in the darkness."
Charlie took the square box and weighed it.
"Don't worry, Principal, I know what I'm doing."
Chapter 164 Justin is a man
"Don't touch Harry, please don't touch Harry!"
A woman's scream echoed deep within Harry's mind, shrill and desperate.
"Get out of the way, you stupid woman..."
A cold voice, filled with impatient malice, was followed by a piercing cackle.
No... don't... Harry felt himself falling, plunging into an endless, icy, bone-chilling mist.
He tried to reach out, to grab the screaming woman, but his limbs felt heavy as lead.
She was going to die... she was going to be killed... Why did his heart feel so sad?
"Please... have mercy... have mercy..."
The scream abruptly stopped.
The world fell silent.
"Luckily, Professor Dumbledore cast a spell."
"I thought he was certainly a goner."
"It's amazing, even his glasses didn't break."
Who was speaking?
The whispers were muffled, as if heard through thick cotton.
Harry didn't know where he was, or what had happened. He only felt every bone in his body screaming in pain, as if he had been thoroughly beaten by a Troll.
Then, dark, hooded figures appeared in his mind... cold... screaming... Dementors!
Harry abruptly opened his eyes.
The familiar ceiling of the Hospital Wing came into view.
The Gryffindor Quidditch team members were gathered around his bed, covered in mud from head to toe, looking disheveled.
Ron and Hermione were also there, both soaked through, their hair dripping, looking as if they had just been pulled from the Black Lake.
"Harry! You're awake!" Hermione excitedly leaned forward.
"How do you feel?" Ron's face was full of worry.
"I..." Harry started to speak, only to find his throat as dry as sandpaper.
"What happened? The match?"
The moment he asked, the surroundings instantly fell silent.
Captain Wood hung his head, mud and water dripping from his hair. He stood motionless, like a soulless statue.
Fred and George's freckles seemed dull.
"We lost." Fred's voice was very low.
"Cedric Diggory caught the Golden Snitch." George continued.
"Right after you... fell."
Harry propped himself up, trying to sit. The soreness throughout his body made him gasp.
He remembered what had happened.
He had fallen off his broom, in front of the entire school.
"It's not your fault, Harry." Angelina quickly said.
"It was those Dementors! Hundreds of them! They suddenly appeared from the dark clouds, it was terrifying!"
"Yeah, who could stand a sight like that." Ron patted his chest, still shaken.
"I feel like I'll never be happy again."
"But it's a good thing Charlie intervened in time and drove away the Dementors."
Harry said nothing, lying there quietly, not only because they lost the match, but also because of the screaming in his head; he probably guessed it was his mother.
"Are you alright, Harry?"
Harry looked up to see everyone's worried faces.
Not wanting them to worry, he tried to make his voice sound calm, wanting to change the subject.
"By the way, did anyone get my Nimbus?"
The previously noisy expressions of concern instantly vanished, replaced by an awkward silence.
Ron and Hermione quickly exchanged glances, then immediately looked away.
Harry's heart sank.
"What's wrong?" he pressed.
Hermione bit her lip, seemingly choosing her words carefully, before finally speaking with difficulty:
"Your broom... it was blown away by the wind."
"And then what?" Harry's voice was tight.
"Then," Hermione's voice was even lower.
"It crashed into... crashed into the Whomping Willow."
The Whomping Willow.
Harry's insides felt like they were being squeezed by an invisible hand.
That irritable old tree could tear even a car into scrap metal.
He looked at Hermione, awaiting the final verdict.
"Professor Flitwick just brought it back before you woke up."
Hermione bent down and picked up a cloth bag from the foot of the bed, pouring its contents onto Harry's bed with a clatter.
A dozen shattered wooden pieces and a pile of shapeless twigs scattered, the once smooth broom handle broken into several sections.
These were all the remnants of his Nimbus 2000.
Harry was ultimately emotional.
Madam Pomfrey happened to walk over with a potion, and seeing this, her face immediately hardened.
"Alright, alright, everyone out!" She waved her arms, like shooing a flock of chicks.
"The patient needs rest! The ward must be absolutely quiet!"
Everyone was forcefully pushed out of the ward by her.
Hermione and Ron, helpless, could only drag their soaking wet bodies back to the Castle.
When they returned to the Great Hall, there was hardly anyone left inside.
Charlie was sitting at the Hufflepuff long table, talking to Ernie and Justin.
After listening to Charlie, Ernie's eyes lit up, he nodded heavily, then excitedly ran out of the Great Hall.
Hermione and Ron walked to the Hufflepuff long table.
"Charlie." Hermione sat down and greeted Charlie.
"How is Harry?"
"He's fine, it's just that his broom is broken, and he's not in a good mood."
Charlie nodded.
Having a beloved item broken, that's indeed very sad.
"Let's go to Hogsmeade with him another day to buy a new one, I know the owner well."
"By the way, Hermione, I actually needed to talk to you about something."
Hermione paused.
"What is it?"
"Help me find information on Dementors."
Hermione blinked.
"What do you need Dementor information for?"
"I want to research Dementors, so I need some information, the more detailed the better."
Upon hearing this, Hermione's eyebrows drooped, thinking, 'He's using me as a tool again, you eight-deer!'
She reluctantly stood up and tugged at her robes.
"Alright, I'll go check the library."
"Thanks." Charlie waved at her.
Hermione turned and left the Great Hall.
Justin asked somewhat puzzled.
"Didn't you already have Ernie look up information?"
"Two people are more efficient."
Charlie sat back down in his chair, resting his legs on the adjacent seat, sinking into the back of the chair.
Justin pouted.
"You're quite leisurely yourself, like a wealthy landlord."
Charlie closed his eyes and tutted.
"Why are you so whiny."
Justin paused, then reached up and touched his own.
"It's not crooked."
Charlie: ????
Chapter 165 Dementor: Don't come any closer!
The next day, Hermione and Ernie brought the collected information to Charlie.
Both of them looked exhausted.
"This is all there is," Hermione said, placing a stack of parchment on the table.
"Information on Dementors is pitifully scarce; almost no one is willing to get close to them."
Ernie also nodded.
"I've searched through every book I could find, and this is all the information there is about Dementors."
Charlie took the documents and flipped through a few pages.
"You worked hard."
After they left, Charlie returned to his dormitory and locked the door.
He took out the silver square box from under his bed and placed it on the table.
A faint rustling sound came from inside the box, as if something was struggling.
Charlie didn't rush to open the box; instead, he first spread out the documents.
The handwriting on the parchment was neat, but the content was fragmented.
Dementors feed on human happiness. When people approach them, their worst memories resurface, gradually causing them to lose the ability to feel joy. In severe cases, even their thoughts begin to blur, eventually leading to complete madness.
They can communicate with humans, but they rarely do so.
Charlie paused when he read this.
This was easy to understand.
Humans are just food in the eyes of Dementors; who would bother chatting with a loaf of bread?
He continued reading.
The origin of Dementors can be traced back to the 15th century. They first appeared on a small island in the North Sea, which later became known as Azkaban.
The island was home to a Wizard obsessed with Dark Arts named Ekrizdis.
This madman lured passing sailors to the island, then used Dementors as weapons to torment those poor Muggles.
It is widely believed that he created these terrifying creatures.
Charlie frowned.
Dementors were actually man-made?
Charlie drew his wand and softly chanted, "Expecto Patronum."
A silver light surged from the tip of his wand, condensing into a small dragon that coiled on his shoulder.
Charlie reached out and opened the silver square box.
A cloud of black mist floated out of the box, slowly expanding in the air.
Tattered cloaks, decaying hands, and bottomless hoods—the Dementor reappeared in its complete form.
As soon as it formed, it instinctively recoiled, trying to distance itself from Charlie's Patronus.
Charlie patted the little dragon's head.
"Go."
The silver dragon soared into the air, opened its mouth, and pounced on the Dementor.
The Dementor let out a piercing shriek, trying to escape. But the dormitory space was too small; it had nowhere to hide.
The silver dragon bit into the Dementor's cloak and pulled hard.
The Dementor's body was instantly torn in half, and black mist splattered everywhere.
Charlie narrowed his eyes, observing carefully.
The black mist swirled in the air for a few seconds, then re-gathered, and the Dementor returned to its original state.
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"Again."
The silver dragon pounced again, this time tearing the Dementor directly into shreds.
The black mist swirled and reformed.
Once, twice, thrice... Charlie had the silver dragon repeatedly tear the Dementor apart, but each time, the Dementor would reassemble.
Undying and indestructible.
Charlie stopped and fell into thought.
He instinctively felt that this thing couldn't be man-made.
How powerful would a Wizard have to be to create something like this?
But that guy named Ekrizdis had no fame whatsoever. Aside from being mentioned in the Dementor's records, there was no trace of him anywhere else.
This was illogical.
Charlie waved his wand, and the silver dragon transformed into a silver mist, completely enveloping the Dementor.
The Dementor struggled to escape, but the silver mist tightened, eventually trapping it firmly in place.
It let out a low moan, its body constantly twitching.
Charlie stepped forward and extended his hand.
Magic surged from his fingertips, injecting into the Dementor's body.
The next second, a terrifying wave of negative emotions washed over him.
Darkness, cold, despair, fear, anger, sadness... countless emotions mixed together, like a dull knife stirring back and forth in Charlie's mind.
Charlie's face instantly turned pale, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
He gritted his teeth and forcefully cut off the magic.
The Dementor also slumped, as if Charlie had exhausted it.
Charlie gasped for air, propping himself up with his hand on the table.
That momentary contact felt like being forcibly shoved into a sewer full of garbage, making him nauseous.
But at the same time, he had successfully touched the essence of Dementors.
They are naturally generated from human negative emotions.
Every Dementor is an aggregation of countless dark emotions. They are inherently embodiments of negativity, feeding on human happiness and spreading despair and fear.
As long as humanity's dark side exists, they will never disappear.
The reason they are undying and indestructible is not because they are powerful, but because they are not living creatures at all.
They are the materialization of emotions.
Charlie's mind stirred.
The silver mist, carrying this Dementor, flew into the silver square box.
He closed the lid and locked it.
Dementors are undying and tireless; you just need to catch some people to feed them. Even if you're a bit black-hearted, you don't even need to feed them; they can still live indefinitely. What kind of chosen employee physique is this?
Charlie stroked his chin, his thoughts gradually expanding.
Could Dementors be utilized as an infinite energy source? Harry had also been staying in the Hospital Wing today, and many people visited him, all wanting to cheer him up.
However, no matter what they did, they couldn't make Harry feel better.
He hadn't told anyone that he had heard his mother's dying words.
She tried to protect him from Lord Voldemort, and Lord Voldemort's laughter before he killed her.
He even dreamed of this scene at night.
Even when Charlie came to visit him, Harry was still in a gloomy mood.
Charlie walked into the ward and glanced at Harry's expression.
"Still upset about the broom? We can just buy a new one next week when we go to Hogsmeade."
Harry looked up at Charlie.
For some reason, the moment he saw Charlie, his previously restless heart suddenly settled, and he felt a sense of security.
Harry thought, perhaps this was the sense of security Charlie brought.
He hesitated for a moment, then finally asked:
"Charlie, what should I do if I dream of my family being killed?"
Charlie raised an eyebrow.
"Why do you ask?"
"After I fainted from seeing the Dementor, I always dream of that scene."
Charlie nodded and said decisively.
"Of course, you fight him directly."
Harry was stunned.
"Can someone bully you even in your own dream?"
"What Dementors, Lord Voldemort, or a 36D pale-skinned long-legged female ghost—in your dreams, you fight them all."
What Charlie said was outlandish, but Harry suddenly felt that there really wasn't anything to be conflicted about.
Wouldn't it be better if he just found Sirius and that damned Lord Voldemort and got his revenge?
Chapter 166 Harry: Senior! Please teach me!
School life continued; the painful Monday would not disappear for anyone's will, and Harry also had to be discharged from the hospital to attend classes.
After Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff, Draco became overconfident and imitated Harry falling off his broomstick during Potion Class.
Professor Snape was always very tolerant of people from his own house, pretending not to see it.
It must be said, Draco had a talent for acting.
To praise his excellent acting talent, Ron enthusiastically threw a bloody crocodile heart onto his face.
Snape deducted fifty points from Gryffindor for this, making Hermione so angry she wanted to kill someone.
"If Professor Snape is still teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts Class this afternoon, I'm just skipping," Ron said angrily in the Great Hall, too upset to even eat his chicken leg.
Charlie glanced at him, then looked at Hermione next to him.
Hermione was staring intently at Ron, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"I advise you not to."
"Hermione will really kill you."
Ron followed Charlie's gaze, met Hermione's eyes, and immediately shrank his neck.
"I'm joking, just joking."
"You'd better be," Hermione said through gritted teeth.
When it was time for class, the group arrived in the classroom and found that Professor Lupin had returned.
However, he looked terrible.
His face was as pale as if he had just climbed out of a sickbed, with two circles of bluish-black shadows under his eyes, and even his robes seemed loose and baggy, as if he had lost a lot of weight.
Charlie scanned him, becoming even more certain that Professor Lupin was a Werewolf.
But that had nothing to do with him; Professor Lupin was very good to him. He could sleep during theoretical classes and play during practical classes. Charlie had no intention of reporting Professor Lupin.
As for Professor Snape's hints, Charlie was just a student, he didn't understand, he didn't understand.
Before class, the students were all complaining about Snape's bad behavior.
"He doesn't treat us like people; the homework he assigns is impossible to finish," a Gryffindor student said indignantly.
"Exactly, and we don't even know what a Werewolf is," another student echoed.
"Two rolls of parchment!"
Professor Lupin leaned against the podium and asked gently, "Did you tell Professor Snape that we haven't learned that yet?"
"We did, but he wouldn't listen."
"He said he has his own pace."
"Two rolls of parchment!"
Professor Lupin smiled, a tired but still warm smile.
"Don't worry, I'll talk to Professor Snape. You don't have to write that essay."
A cheer erupted in the classroom.
Ron jumped straight out of his seat, waving his fists.
"Great! Long live Professor Lupin!"
The other students also breathed a sigh of relief, the clouds of worry clearing from their faces.
Only Hermione sat in her seat, her face gradually falling. She had already finished it, having stayed up until midnight last night to complete it.
Although it was a theoretical class today, Professor Lupin still brought a Hinkypunk to introduce it on the spot, allowing students to gain a deeper understanding of this creature.
This creature looked like wisps of smoke, with only one leg and carrying a lantern in its hand, appearing harmless.
Professor Lupin pointed his wand at it, explaining its habits and weaknesses to the students.
After class, students left the classroom one after another.
Harry packed his things, not rushing to leave. He stood in place for a while, waiting until most of the other students had left before walking to the podium.
Lupin was organizing his lecture notes. He looked up, saw Harry, and gave a gentle smile.
When Harry was injured, he couldn't visit due to his own physical condition.
He had initially worried that Harry's mental state might be problematic, but now Harry seemed to be in very good condition.
"Harry, is something wrong?"
Harry took a deep breath, looking directly into Lupin's eyes.
"Professor, I want to learn the Patronus Charm."
Lupin's movements paused. He put down the parchment in his hand and looked at Harry seriously.
"Why do you suddenly want to learn this?"
"I don't want to faint anymore," Harry's voice was calm, but his tone carried a resolute determination.
"Every time I see a Dementor, I can't do anything, I just fall down. I've had enough."
"The Patronus Charm is very difficult, Harry," Lupin said slowly. "Even among adult Wizards, not everyone can master it."
"I know," Harry did not back down.
"But I still want to learn."
Lupin sighed.
He really wanted to agree, but his current condition was truly terrible.
The full moon had just passed, and his body hadn't fully recovered; even standing through one class felt strenuous.
His gaze inadvertently swept across the back of the classroom, landing on the figure slumped over a desk.
Lupin's eyes lit up, and he had an idea.
"Harry, my Patronus Charm isn't actually that powerful," Lupin turned back, signaling Harry with his eyes.
"You have a better choice than asking me."
Harry was taken aback, following Lupin's gaze.
Charlie had just woken up and stretched.
"Are you talking about Charlie?"
"You've seen his Patronus," Lupin smiled.
"That silver dragon, right?"
Harry remembered the scene on the Quidditch pitch that day. A silver giant dragon descended from the sky, opening its mouth to swallow one Dementor after another.
Such a level was more than enough to teach him. Harry hadn't thought of Charlie immediately, which was also due to habitual thinking, always feeling that to learn something, one should go to a teacher.
However, why should Charlie teach him?
...Charlie stretched, counting the tyrant points from this class.
"Your Majesty is neglecting court affairs, tyrant points +1+1+1..."
The system's voice rang in his mind, with its usual flattery.
Charlie let out a long breath.
Getting stronger every day relies on the system; life is just this simple, unadorned, and boring.
Just then, Harry walked to his desk, hesitated, and said, "Charlie, I want to learn the Patronus Charmfrom you."
Charlie looked up at Harry.
"I'm willing to pay tuition," Harry added.
Charlie raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair.
"Are you sure you want to learn from me?"
Harry nodded.
"My methods are very cruel, you know."
Harry still did not back down.
"I'm sure."
"Good! Very spirited! I'll teach you."
Charlie patted Harry's shoulder.
Ron and Hermione, hearing what Harry said, also had an idea.
After all, who wouldn't want a powerful summoned beast?
"I want to learn too," Ron said.
"Me too, I'll pay tuition," Hermione raised her hand.
For Charlie, teaching one was teaching, and teaching three was also teaching; there was no difference.
"Alright, let's learn together then."
"But there's no time during school, let's wait until the Christmas holiday."
"I guarantee you'll master the Patronus Charm in seven days."
As soon as he finished speaking, a curve appeared at the corner of Charlie's mouth, and a glint of excitement shone in his eyes.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione saw Charlie's twisted smile and felt a sudden unease.
"Why do I suddenly feel a bad premonition?"
"That was rash."
Chapter 167 Eavesdropping on the Professor's Conversation at the Three Broomsticks Bar
Every weekend, Charlie would take Harry to Hogsmeade, trying to catch the big black dog at the Shrieking Shack.
Charlie was certain that the big black dog was Sirius; he had secretly learned Animagus and never revealed it.
After Halloween, students above the third year could all go to Hogsmeade.
To avoid exposure, Harry would wear his invisibility cloak in crowded places.
He would only take it off in secluded areas in the wilderness, specifically lingering there to try and attract Sirius.
But Sirius seemed to have completely disappeared.
The last time he showed up at Hogwarts, he ripped the fat lady's portrait, causing a huge commotion.
Now, he was probably worried that Charlie would connect the Black dog to him, so he never appeared near the Shrieking Shack again.
Until close to Christmas, Charlie still hadn't found any trace of the big black dog.
On the last weekend before the holiday, Charlie realized that Sirius was very unlikely to return to the Shrieking Shack.
So, he decided not to wait there today, but to have a good look around Hogsmeade.
During breakfast that morning, Ron was feeding Scabbers dried meat.
Charlie glanced at the rat and paused.
Scabbers, who was originally quite plump, was now as thin as a stick, with several patches of fur missing, revealing pink skin.
His eyes bulged, and the entire rat looked like it was about to die.
"Is your rat dying?" Charlie asked, frowning.
Ron sighed and placed the dried meat at Scabbers' mouth.
Scabbers sniffed it, took a tiny, weak bite, and chewed slowly.
"It's all Hermione's cat's fault," Ron glared at Hermione.
"That monster stares at Scabbers every day, scaring him into this state."
Hearing this, Hermione immediately pulled her cat's head into her embrace and said, huffily,
"Crookshanks isn't a monster, and he wouldn't eat your rat."
"There's plenty for him to eat in the Castle; your rat isn't appealing at all."
"Regardless, Scabbers was still scared by him."
"That's because your rat is too timid!"
The two argued more and more fiercely, and the surrounding students began to look over.
Charlie silently moved aside, staying further away from these two powder kegs.
Harry sat next to Ron, trying to mediate.
"That's enough, stop arguing."
Ron huffily stuffed Scabbers into his pocket; Scabbers struggled for a moment, then slumped limply again.
"Poor Scabbers, you should rest well in the dormitory today; I won't take you out."
Charlie, Ron, and Hermione followed the crowd out of the Castle and headed towards Hogsmeade.
Ernie and Justin also walked beside Charlie.
Harry, wearing his invisibility cloak, took another secret passage alone.
Before leaving, he had agreed with Charlie to meet at Honeydukes.
The snow fell heavier and heavier, with goose-feather-like snowflakes falling everywhere. Not long after, Charlie's hair and shoulders were covered in a layer of white.
Ron hunched his neck, wrapping his scarf tighter.
"This weather is deadly."
Hermione breathed out, and her warm breath condensed into white mist in the air.
"Let's go quickly; it'll be warm inside the shop."
At the entrance of Hogsmeade village, several students gathered around a notice board, pointing and gesticulating.
Charlie walked over and glanced at it.
The notice board displayed an announcement from the Ministry of Magic, with golden edges on the parchment, making it look very official.
"Ministry of Magic Order: Dementors will patrol the streets of Hogsmeade after sunset. All patrons are requested to finish their shopping before sunset. Additionally, if a big black dog is seen, please inform the Ministry of Magic immediately."
Ernie whispered, "Charlie drove the Dementors out of the school, so they arranged for the Dementors to be in Hogsmeade. Honestly, if the Dementors could catch Black, he wouldn't have escaped from Azkaban."
The group of five walked into Hogsmeade; the houses on both sides of the street were covered in thick snow, and icicles hung from the eaves.
Warm light shone from the shop windows, and people came and went in the shops.
They waited for a while at Honeydukes, then heard Harry's voice from the air beside them.
"I'm here, where are we going?"
Ernie and Justin were a bit surprised; it was their first time seeing Harry's invisibility cloak.
Hermione rubbed her hands, shivering from the cold.
As a girl, she felt the cold more easily in such weather.
"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks pub and have something warm to drink."
Ron nodded vigorously.
"Good idea."
Pushing open the pub door, a wave of heat rushed out.
The pub was packed with people; the noisy chatter, laughter, and clinking of glasses blended together.
The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly, making the entire pub warm and cozy.
Charlie looked towards the bar.
Behind the bar stood a woman with long golden hair casually tied back, a graceful figure, pouring drinks for customers.
Ron said from the side,
"That's Madam Rosmerta, the landlady of the pub. You guys find a seat, I'll go order the drinks."
Charlie and the others found an empty table and sat down. Ron voluntarily went to the bar and ordered six warm butterbeers.
When he returned, Ron's face was a bit red, and his eyes kept darting towards the bar.
Charlie raised an eyebrow at him.
Doesn't this kid like men? Why is he blushing when he sees an older sister?
Could it be that this kid plays for both teams? Not simple.
Charlie picked up his glass and took a sip.
The warm butterbeer slid down his throat, warming him all over.
"Merry Christmas," Charlie raised his glass.
"Merry Christmas!" The others also raised their glasses.
Harry's voice came from the air, and his glass floated in mid-air, looking a bit eerie, but no one noticed this scene.
At this moment, the pub door suddenly pushed open, and a blast of cold wind rushed in.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick walked into the pub, followed by Hagrid.
Minister Fudge was also there, talking to several Professors.
Harry's glass trembled, almost spilling.
After all, he was restricted from leaving school, and it would be bad if a teacher found him.
He instinctively wanted to shrink back but quickly realized he was wearing an invisibility cloak.
Why panic?
Professor McGonagall walked to the bar and ordered some drinks.
Fudge and Hagrid also followed.
They said something to Madam Rosmerta, which made her cover her mouth and chuckle softly.
Then Madam Rosmerta, holding drinks with them, walked straight to the table next to Charlie and sat down.
Professor McGonagall saw Charlie and nodded.
"Oh, Charlie, good to see you."
"Professor McGonagall," Charlie responded politely.
Professor Flitwick also waved at Charlie, smiling.
When Hagrid sat down, the chair let out a groan.
After the Professors and Minister Fudge sat down, they began to converse in low voices.
Charlie held his glass, his peripheral vision scanning them.
Fudge was there; maybe he could hear some news about Black.
He put down his glass, pulled out his wand, and lightly tapped it under the table.
He cast a Spell on his ears, allowing himself to hear what they were saying.
[Your Majesty is eavesdropping on your officials, tyrant points +10]
The system's voice rang in his mind, and Charlie's lips curved slightly.
Hermione happened to see this scene. She first looked at Charlie, then at the Professors at the next table, and with her understanding of Charlie, she immediately understood.
She lowered her voice:
"Charlie, don't do that. Eavesdropping on Professors is going too far."
Ron's eyes lit up.
"Eavesdropping on Professors? That's so cool, Charlie, I want to listen too."