A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

"How did you know?" Harry asked Hermione this question, seeking clarification.

"Well—um," Ron hesitated, looking as if he'd been stung by a Billywig, "Colin mentioned it to me at the feast—"

"Mentioned?" Hermione and Harry exclaimed simultaneously.

"I—I didn't quite catch it then, it was too noisy," Ron said, shrugging, attempting to ease the tense atmosphere, "But when Hermione mentioned putting the shard into something, it just clicked."

Hermione seemed furious, while Harry couldn't help but sympathize with Ron. Luckily, at that moment, someone pushed open the door to the ward.

Neville stepped in. "Hey, Harry, Ron, uh, Hermione's here too... I overheard some gossip in the common room, it sounded particularly sinister... But when you didn't come back last night, I knew it had something to do with you guys, and I thought you might need this..."

He gestured with two bulging sets of clothes in his hands, walking closer, only to have his eyes widen as they landed on the heap of golden egg fragments. He was speechless.

"Perfect timing, you're just in time, we need something to wear," Harry exclaimed in relief, stepping forward to take the clothes, "Uh—have a seat, Neville, just be careful not to crush the pieces of the egg; we're not sure if we need to put it back together."

Hermione puffed her cheeks and snatched the only useful shard, "We'll meet in the library." She swiftly darted out of the ward.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron began changing out of their pajamas. Neville sat nervously on Ron's bed, eyes fixed on the broken pieces, looking like they'd been roughly handled. "So, is it true?"

"Oh, what?" Harry asked, pulling a sweater over his head.

"I heard Lee Jordan saying that Professor Moody was actually an imposter, a Dark wizard trying to steal your golden egg, and last night, you and Ron drove him away..."

Harry and Ron paused, exchanging glances. Harry's sleeve was still drooping as he decisively said, "The first part is true, the rest is nonsense."

Ron finished changing and patted Neville's shoulder, saying, "Mate, the real Professor Moody is just nearby in the hospital wing; maybe you can ask him. Who knows, maybe he has some idea!" Seeing Neville's intrigued expression, he quickly stammered, "I'm joking, don't actually ask..."

Neville shook his head, "I won't ask. But I'd like to visit him. He's been kind to me, remember? He gave me that book, 'Marvelous Aquatic Flora of the Mediterranean.'"

"What if it was sent by that Death Eater?" Ron speculated, "Listen, Neville. Moody got caught this time, set up by some mysterious person. He and that Death Eater took turns teaching us, so none of the professors noticed. Now nobody knows which classes were actually taught by the real Moody—"

As he spoke, he suddenly clapped his hands heavily, shouting, "Damn it! I knew which professor dared to teach us the Unforgivable Curses!"

Neville looked stunned, never expecting this matter to involve a mysterious person and a Death Eater.

After venting, Ron calmed down. With anticipation, he said, "I hope Professor Moody will be nicer to us next term, but who knows... he might not come back."

Inadvertently, Harry's heart skipped a beat. If Professor Moody couldn't teach them next term, the school would have to find them a new teacher, even if it was a temporary one, like Professor Binns in their second year.

As Harry pondered, he recalled Ron mentioning the curse issue. But Professor Binns seemed fine... he tried to convince himself. But what if? He couldn't bear the consequences if something happened to Sirius, even though for the first thirteen years of his life, he hadn't known he had a godfather, hadn't even heard of him, he found himself unable to do without him now.

Harry was undecided for a moment, unsure whether to tell Sirius. There was something he actually wanted to say, that his godfather was too focused, spending all his time practicing magic and playing chess with Muggle old men, having all his attention on him. Sirius should have his own life, like finding a job or starting a family...

"Harry, Harry!" Ron shouted loudly in his ear.

"Oh—what?" Harry lifted his head, finding Ron and Neville both looking at him.

Ron shrugged, "Help me convince Neville. He still wants to visit that powder keg... What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Harry quickly said, "I mean—of course, I agree."

"You agree?" Ron widened his eyes.

"Yeah, we should go visit Professor Moody; he seems to have no family." Harry said lightly, deciding to postpone this matter. If Sirius asked, he would make a decision then.

...

At the entrance to the castle hall, Draco Malfoy leaned against the oak doors, boredom etched on his face, holding a green gift ribbon in his hand. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy surrounded him.

"Weren't you applying for permission to stay over the holidays?"

Draco's nose twitched, "I don't know, it was my father's sudden demand, sorted it out with Professor Snape in advance." He occasionally glanced towards the hall, his father had come to pick him up this morning; on the way, they'd met Professor Snape, and then he was left aside.

He toyed with the ribbon—it was taken from a gift box. He felt his father's gaze earlier had been complex, carrying a hint of disappointment, but he hadn't done anything recently, so he must have misread it.

"...Yes, the traces that night were particularly strong... then it faded, much like fifteen years ago." Lucius Malfoy spoke softly, examining the surroundings discreetly with his gray eyes while exchanging wands.

"I understand. If there's any change, make sure to inform me promptly," Felix said cheerfully.

Lucius nodded slightly, stepped back two paces, and raised his voice a bit, "You should take care of your own affairs." He turned away, leaving with a cold smile on his face. As he reached Draco's side, his son looked at him with concern.

"Father, what's wrong, you—"

"Didn't I tell you not to meddle in things you shouldn't touch?" Lucius snatched the green ribbon from Draco's hand, tossing it aside. He was furious with his son, but there were things that couldn't be spoken directly, especially involving Voldemort's diary and the agreement with Snape. Hence, he had to find other excuses.

"Three champions of your age, why weren't you one of them?"

Draco felt unjustly treated, "Father, it's Potter and his lot using some kind of cheating!"

Lucius gave him a sideways glance, shifted the wands to his right side, and with his left hand, he pulled Draco away.

Left behind, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy looked at their departing figures. Pansy hesitated, "Uncle Malfoy seemed very angry, but Draco hasn't caused any trouble recently, has he?"

She eyed Crabbe and Go

yle suspiciously, "Did you two stir up trouble?"

Both of them shook their heads.

At that moment, Felix approached holding a newspaper. The three of them called out to the professor and hurried away. Felix walked out of the castle, standing on the marble steps. At the far end, he could still see the Malfoys—Lucius saying something to Draco, who appeared dissatisfied.

"Bollocks, Death Eaters still at large? Or is the mysterious figure making a comeback?" The headline in bold crimson letters on the newspaper featured a rolling Dark Mark. The headline below it read—

"Reportedly, Bartemius Crouch, the Director of the International Magical Cooperation Office, who was in charge of two major international events (the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament), was attacked by unknown individuals at his home last night. The scene was chaotic, Crouch is missing, and his old house has turned into ruins."

In a world where magical markings hung high in the air, a scene that struck fear into the hearts of all, the Dark Mark loomed ominously. Every Ministry official arriving at the scene fell silent. A brusque-looking female official, her face filled with sheer horror, collapsed to the ground. When reporters approached her for an interview, hoping for insights, all they received was unwarranted abuse. Later, it was revealed that this official had been demoted for incompetence and attempting to cover up a Ministry scandal involving a mysterious hero's brother, who silently resisted during the war. For further details, readers were referred to Rita Skeeter's new book "Defying the Dark Terror," specifically Chapter Seven.

No one who had lived through that terrifying war could forget what the Dark Mark symbolized. Yet, in the fourteenth year since the death of the Dark Lord and the end of the war, amidst our first Quidditch World Cup win in nearly thirty years and the rekindling of the Triwizard Tournament, which now held new significance, people had to question: had we truly emerged from the shadow of war? Or was this just the herald of another conflict?

Regrettably, the Ministry's response to this sudden event was less than satisfactory. If some among us still yearned for the reign of a certain unnamed dark wizard and our Ministry remained oblivious, focusing excessively on trivial potion collaborations, we might safely assume the Ministry was in for a rude awakening.

As of the time of printing, the latest information obtained by this newspaper revealed that Mr. Barty Crouch had not met an untimely end. He was undergoing secretive treatment. The young Ministry representative declined to disclose more, citing an overwhelming workload inherited from Mr. Crouch.

For Mr. Crouch's professional history, readers were directed to the fourth edition of this paper for comprehensive details. Lastly, for those eager to delve further into the enigmatic figure and his malevolent clique, watch out for Rita Skeeter's book signing of "Defying the Dark Terror" at Flourish and Blotts on January 1st, offering owl mail support for purchases. freeweɓnovel.cøm

"That's it. The rest is rubbish," Hermione exclaimed, lifting her head from the newspaper.

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, puzzled. Ron chuckled suddenly, gasping for breath. "She, she doesn't know he's still alive, does she? Otherwise, she wouldn't have the nerve to fabricate the mystery man..."

Harry and Hermione chuckled too, knowing exactly the kind of person Rita Skeeter was.

They sat by a window in the library, stacks of books on the table near the aisle, evading the sharp gaze of Madam Pince, the librarian. Harry had even cast a less familiar silencing charm to keep their voices from carrying.

Ron laughed so hard he slumped onto the table, pounding it with his fist. "Oh... 'Defying the Dark Terror'... I think she's just itching for controversy." After his laughter subsided, he said seriously, "Shouldn't we send her an anonymous letter, give her a heads-up?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "We can't reveal... you know, we've promised Professor Dumbledore."

"Alright," Ron said regretfully. "She probably wouldn't believe us anyway and might just think we're spreading rumors, tossing the letter into the trash... Maybe Dumbledore's already informed Fudge."

"That's a possibility," Hermione nodded, agreeing with him.

Harry picked up the newspaper and flipped to the fourth edition, finding detailed information about Mr. Barty Crouch, including his family, which proved helpful for Harry.

"Look here," he pointed to a line of text. "Barty Crouch had an incredibly promising future, close to becoming Minister for Magic. However, due to his Death Eater son's actions, his reputation plummeted. He was transferred to the Department of International Magical Cooperation as its head. Within a few years, not only did his son perish in Azkaban, but his ailing wife also passed away..."

Ron and Hermione looked at him in astonishment. "Yeah, we all know who Voldemort's spy was, but the issue is... he's officially recorded as deceased."

"This is, this is incredible. Could it be... Barty Crouch..." Ron looked significantly at the two.

"Are you suggesting he abused his power?" Hermione exclaimed.

After contemplating for a while, they couldn't come up with any other possibilities. Most crucially, Ron stated, "That was his son." Ultimately, they had to consider the possibility that Barty Crouch had manipulated something to deceive Azkaban and alter official records.

They felt a mix of emotions thinking about Barty Crouch lying in the hospital wing. On one hand, he was a victim, yet on the other, he might have secretly defied the law, releasing a heinous Death Eater. This Death Eater had found his greatest support and was devising strategies for his master's resurgence.

Seeing the serious atmosphere, Hermione pulled a parchment from "The Debate Over the Fifth Element" book and handed it to Harry and Ron.

Harry looked at the poetic-like text in his hand and read aloud the first line, "Seek us where our voices sound—what's this?"

"Information decoded from the golden egg," Hermione said shortly.

Harry and Ron widened their eyes, their heads coming together to read the contents:

"Seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing on the ground.

Remember the focus when you seek:

Purple signifies power;

Blue indicates wisdom;

Gold represents growth.

Time is of the essence, danger everywhere;

Careful consideration, choices unavoidable.

When gold overflows,

You shall see each other,

Returning with full loads."

Harry and Ron took a deep breath, stunned by the words.

"My intuition tells me the second task will be tough," Ron said gloomily.

Harry agreed. He tried to decipher the content, "Um—seek us where our voices sound, cannot sing on the ground. So, the second task takes place in the water? Black Lake?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "That's what I think too. Keep going, let's compare our ideas."

"Uh, then the next line obviously directs us to find something—three things, or three categories?" Harry hesitated, looking at Hermione, who only smiled, refusing to reveal any information.

"Alright, whatever they are, they're different, categorized as power, wisdom, and... growth? I think it's some kind of test. Then the following lines caution us to be careful, involving choices, strange... Lastly, when gold overflows, we'll see each other. Does it mean we have to separate? Only when this condition is met, we can reunite?"

As they traced this trail of clues, Harry's eyes widened, and three pairs of eyes met.

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Ron emitted a wail.

Just then, a silver, nimble swift flew in through the library window, landing delicately before them. The swift's Patronus opened its mouth, projecting Professor Lupin's voice:

"Harry, tonight at eight, in my office. Just you."

"That's all for today's update."

>

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