Hogwarts: Starting with full Unforgivable Curses

Chapter 276 The Committee for Handling Dangerous Organisms is full of cowardly old cowards!
Just then, Hermione, who was doing her arithmetic and divination homework not far away, looked up at him.

Seeing that he was still engrossed in his book, lost in thought, she shook her head and lowered her head again.

— Dylan has been like this lately; nobody knows what kind of fun he can find in this spellbook.

Dylan, however, paid no attention, his gaze already following the two people in the scene to the stream in the valley.

Young Dumbledore was bending over to scoop up water, sunlight filtering through his red hair and casting dappled golden spots on the surface.

Grindelwald stood behind him, suddenly reached out and brushed his hair aside, and whispered, "Once we overthrow those fools, the entire wizarding world will remember our names."

Dumbledore straightened up, water droplets trickling down his jawline and dripping onto his collar.

He didn't answer, but turned to look at Grindelwald, his eyes shining brighter than the stream.

"So, even in such a grand plan, there were so many hidden agendas."

Dylan covered his face with the book and chuckled softly.

Anyway, there's still a while until the Quidditch World Cup.

There's no use rushing things regarding those experimental subjects.

And it's not yet time to meet with O'Reilly.

Why not take this opportunity to enjoy this grand spectacle to the fullest?

Explore ancient history.

Dylan was quite interested.

This afternoon.

In the Gryffindor common room.

The fire in the fireplace was still burning slowly and steadily.

The pine firewood occasionally made a soft crackling sound.

The warm light made the tapestries on the stone wall shine brightly.

Dylan was still nestled in the deepest armchair in the corner, his posture even more languid than before.

He crossed his legs on the low stool, casually placing the book in his hands behind his back as a temporary cushion.

His divination perspective had not yet shifted from the imagery of Godric Valley.

At this moment, the scene before him was Old Deng and Grindelwald's graveside under the moonlight.

The two were discussing something in hushed tones, so close that they could even see the light in each other's eyes.

This interaction, imbued with a subtle tension, brought a faint smile to Dylan's lips as he watched, almost completely immersed in this private "viewing" experience.

at this time.

A suppressed sob broke the silence of the lounge.

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a fine needle, precisely piercing the immersive atmosphere surrounding Dylan.

He frowned slightly, snapping out of his reverie and looking in the direction of the sound.

—Hermione was sitting at a desk not far away, her shoulders shrugging slightly, clutching a handkerchief in her hand, constantly wiping her eyes.

A pile of homework was laid out in front of her, and even the ink was smudged by a small patch of teardrops.

Dylan paused, sighed helplessly, sat up straighter in his armchair, and asked in a raised voice, "What happened, Hermione?"

His gaze fell on her open assignment. "Did you encounter a problem with your assignment and get criticized by the professor?"

Hermione heard the sound, looked up, her eyes red-rimmed, tears still clinging to her eyelashes.

She quickly shook her head, vigorously wiped her face with a handkerchief, and choked out, "Oh...no...that's not it..."

She sniffed, her voice thick with nasal tone: "This has nothing to do with you... Just keep doing what you're doing, don't spoil your good mood..."

After speaking, she lowered her head again, trying to hide her emotions, but the trembling of her shoulders betrayed her.

The voice just fell.

The door to the common room was pushed open with a bang.

Harry and Ron walked in.

Both of them looked ugly.

Ron's brow furrowed into a knot.

Harry's lips were pressed tightly together, and his jawline was taut, as if he had just experienced something terrible.

As soon as they entered, they saw Hermione crying, and they stopped in their tracks.

They exchanged a glance and saw surprise in each other's eyes.

Hermione, why are you crying?

Harry walked over quickly, his voice filled with worry.

Ron followed behind, scratching his head and looking at her somewhat helplessly.

Hermione took a deep breath, rubbed her red eyes, stood up, and took a folded piece of paper out of her pocket.

The edges of the letter were worn, and there were a few dried tear stains on it.

She handed the letter to Harry and Ron, her voice still trembling with tears: "Hagrid lost the case... This is... He just had it delivered."

Dylan listened attentively, slowly recalling what had happened, and soon remembered what had occurred.

—It's Buckbeak's lawsuit.

Hermione had been busy with this matter and collected a lot of evidence. Hagrid won one of his own cases, but he ultimately lost the case against Buckbeak.

Dylan wasn't surprised by this.

Harry took the letter and carefully unfolded it, while Ron also leaned in.

The handwriting on the letter was blurred in some places because it had been soaked with tears, and it required careful reading to make it clear.

After reading the above content carefully.

Harry's eyes widened suddenly, and he raised his voice incredulously.

"They can't do that!"

His fingers crumpled the letter because of the force he was using.

"Buckbeak is clearly not in danger! Anyone with a brain can see that!"

"It was Malfoy's father who did it."

Hermione wiped her eyes again, her voice filled with anger and grievance.

“You all know what Lucius Malfoy is like. He must have coerced the Committee on the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures to do that.”

She paused, and her tone became somewhat downcast.

"The committee for handling dangerous organisms is full of cowardly old Bundes. They don't dare to offend the Malfoy family at all, but we can appeal—theoretically, we always can."

"But... but I really can't see any hope... it seems like we can't change anything."

"It can be changed!"

Ron snatched the letter from Harry's hand, crumpled it into a ball, and stuffed it into his pocket, as if that would erase the bad news on it.

He looked at Hermione and said firmly, "This time, you won't have to do it all by yourself. Hermione, I'll help too! Let's figure something out together!"

"Oh! Ron! Buckbeak is so cute!"

Upon hearing this, Hermione could no longer hold back, and her pent-up emotions suddenly erupted.

She took a step forward, threw herself into Ron's arms, and burst into tears.

Ron was clearly startled by this sudden action and froze on the spot.

His face flushed bright red instantly, like a boiled shrimp. His hand hung in mid-air, unsure of what to do.

After a long while, he tentatively and clumsily patted Hermione's head, his movements stiff as if he were a puppet being manipulated.

Dylan, sitting in the corner, saw the whole scene clearly, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up, revealing a pleased smile.

The interaction between these two was even more interesting than the plot he had just watched.

after awhile.

Hermione's crying gradually subsided.

She pulled away from Ron's embrace, sniffed, and said somewhat embarrassedly, "Ron... about Banban, I'm really, really sorry..."

She knew Crookshanks had always targeted Scabbers, and she also knew what cats would do to mice.

Although it is now known that Banban's disappearance has nothing to do with her or her cat.

But she had always thought that Scabbers was just Ron's beloved pet, and she disliked the ugly mouse, so she always felt a little guilty.

When it comes to freckles...

Ron's body stiffened instantly, the blush on his face had not yet faded, but a complex expression welled up again.

His face contorted involuntarily, as if he had remembered something embarrassing and difficult to talk about.

He scratched his head and stammered, "Uh... actually... about... him... we haven't had a chance to tell you yet..."

Actually, he had been too embarrassed to tell Hermione how Scabbers had run away, so he only vaguely told her that Scabbers wasn't eaten by Hermione's cat.

Now that Hermione has brought it up and apologized, he feels it's no longer appropriate to keep it a secret.

Harry nodded in agreement and added, "Actually, Scabbers isn't an ordinary mouse; it's... Peter Pettigrew."

Hear the name.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise.

The tears she had just shed were still clinging to her eyelashes, slowly sliding down her cheeks.

She paused for a few seconds, then remembered what they had overheard at the Pighead Bar.

Without Ron and Harry needing to explain further, she immediately understood the situation, her eyes filled with shock and sudden realization.

But after the initial shock, she quickly realized something else, and her tone instantly turned stern: "Why are you only telling me about something this important now?"

She immediately let go of Ron's arm and smacked him on the back of the head.

Then he suddenly turned his head and glared at Harry.

"what……"

Harry felt a little guilty under her gaze, and his eyes involuntarily darted to the side.

He couldn't very well say that Ron told him not to speak first because he was too proud, could he?
You can't just betray a good brother like this!
So, he could only awkwardly purse his lips, unable to say a word.

Seeing this, Ron quickly tried to smooth things over: "Alright, alright, let's get down to business! What are we investigating about Buckbeak's case? We have to think of a way; we can't just give up like this."

Hermione's anger subsided slightly after the topic was brought up, but she was still somewhat downcast.

She sat back down in her chair, picked up the files on the table, and flipped through them, her voice tinged with weariness.

"To be honest, I don't know."

She sighed. "According to the previous case files, the evidence and testimonies I've compiled should be enough... Hagrid has already won his own case, and now I really don't know how to get those old guys on the Committee to Dispose of Dangerous Creatures to change their minds."

The three of them sat around the desk and discussed things in hushed tones.

Although they didn't try to lower their voices, Dylan could hear them clearly from his corner.

But they never looked in Dylan's direction.

It's probably true, as Hermione said, that she felt this had nothing to do with Dylan and didn't want to involve him.

Dylan was quite pleased with this. He leaned back in his armchair, adjusted to a comfortable position, closed his eyes, and prepared to continue his "watching the show" which had been interrupted.

The flames in the fireplace still flickered, casting a long shadow over him.

The common lounge gradually returned to its previous quiet state, except for the three people's conversation.

After that day.

The Gryffindor common room was less noisy than usual.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione devoted almost all their free time to trying to exonerate Buckbeak.

The weekly magical creature protection class became their regular opportunity to comfort Hagrid.

The classroom is now located in an enclosure on the edge of the forbidden forest.

Hagrid was still wearing that worn-out mole-skin coat, but his once loud laughter had become rarer.

His voice was much lower when explaining the habits of the organisms, and his gaze would occasionally drift into the depths of the forbidden forest.

That was where Bakbik was temporarily staying.

Harry would always find an opportunity to get close to Hagrid, pretending to ask him about the care of some kind of creature.

In reality, he would quietly tell them about the new clues they had found.

Ron would deliberately bring up embarrassing stories from his own family in an attempt to make Hagrid laugh.

Hermione would carefully help Hagrid organize his scattered lesson plans, and when he wasn't looking, she would slip him a note filled with newly found legal statutes.

The three of them tacitly avoided discussing the outcome of the lawsuit directly, and instead used this clumsy yet sincere method to gradually alleviate Hagrid's frustration.

Since news spread that Sirius Black had once again attempted to break into Hogwarts, the school has increased its nighttime security.

Every night, the number of faculty members and portrait guards patrolling the castle corridors is several times greater than usual.

This meant that even when Hagrid came to pick them up, Harry and his friends were strictly forbidden from leaving the castle after dark.

This forced them to move the work of overturning the verdict to the daytime.

The long table near the restricted book section in the library practically became their private territory.

Hermione had borrowed a thick stack of files from the office, which were piled on the table, their edges curled up from being turned over.

Those yellowed pages record the judgments of previous committees on the disposal of hazardous organisms.

Hermione had already studied it three times, word for word.

But Harry and Ron were still not giving up, and started flipping through the book again from the beginning, their eyes scanning over the dense handwritten annotations, trying to find any overlooked loopholes between the lines.

Even a vague clause can catch their eye, only to be put down in disappointment after careful consideration.

Time flows slowly amidst these busy moments and brief pauses.

The hawthorn trees outside the castle sprouted new leaves, and the armor in the corridor occasionally clanged from the students' playful noise.

Everything seemed to be progressing smoothly.

Only the stack of files and the solemn expressions on the faces of the three young men reminded them that there was still an unresolved matter weighing on their minds.

—But it only suppressed the three of them.

Others might worry, but they don't take it seriously.

One day, during a morning spell class.

Sunlight streamed through the glass windows above the classroom, casting dappled patterns on the floor.

Professor Flitwick was standing on the podium, explaining the key points of the "Happiness Mantra" in his high-pitched voice.

"Remember, children, the key to the spell of joy lies in the caster's own emotional contagion. You must truly feel joy in order to immerse the other person in it as well..."

Dylan and Neville were put in the same practice group.

(End of this chapter)