Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 180 Peter: I have something on him!
The old wooden planks were magically transformed into a small boat, speeding across the sea. Oncoming waves crashed against the hull, turning into broken sprays of water.

"Professor, you've finally found me! You have no idea how I've been these past few days!"

Peter sat at the stern, stuffing a few biscuits into his mouth and swallowing them with juice with almost no chewing, while giving a rambling report: "The Dementors were restless for a while, so martial law was declared in Azkaban. We didn't want the Dementors to get close to the prisoners, and Bellatrix in her normal state couldn't get close, which is why it took so long."

"After receiving the intelligence, I wanted to deliver it to you as quickly as possible, but the fog around Azkaban was too thick and the eddies too turbulent... If it weren't for you, I would have been trapped on the sea!"

Melvin ignored his nonsense. There was a deceptive fog in the waters near Azkaban, and various protective spells covered the surrounding area for dozens or even hundreds of nautical miles, but they were all for dealing with Muggles. As a wizard with a wand, it was hard to say that Peter had almost been trapped on the sea.

"Let's get down to business. What's the key to Bellatrix's vault?"

“The vault key, yes, the vault key,” Peter quickly replied. “Bellatrix’s vault has two ways of opening: one is with the vault key, which she left at the Lestrange mansion, and the other is for her to personally go to Gringotts with her personal wand.”

"The key to the Lestrange mansion, Bellatrix's wand..."

The waves kept lapping against the hull, the sound of the splashing seawater somewhat melodious. Melvin was busy organizing his thoughts, and Peter didn't dare to disturb him, carefully stuffing a biscuit into his mouth, afraid of making any noise, occasionally glancing out of the corner of his eye at the slender white snake in the sea.

Yulm stretched out his body in the sea, swimming freely without restraint. His white scales blended with the white waves, and he would disappear and resurface like a fleeting ghost.

The Ministry of Magic confiscated the Death Eaters' wands, and although their whereabouts are unknown, with some careful planning, they could probably get their hands on them. He has a way to deal with the Thief Falls, and impersonating Bellatrix doesn't present any technical difficulties... it's just that dealing with the Gringotts goblins might be troublesome.

Bellatrix was a notorious Death Eater. News of her trial and sentencing spread through the newspapers, and any wizard of a certain age knew that there was such a Lady Lestrange serving time in prison.

Pretending to be a serious criminal to conduct business at a wizard's bank and hoping they won't recognize you is a bit unrealistic.

The only solution is to find a way to borrow the key to the vault in the Lestrange mansion, and also to create a plausible identity...

Melvin suppressed his thoughts and glanced at Peter, who was panting with his stomach full. He appeared completely unguarded, but his cunning eyes were secretly observing him.

He smiled and asked, "The former core Death Eaters drank the Truth Potion and are unable to resist, so they won't reveal the secret. Peter, is this all you've asked me in this precious opportunity?"

Peter's forehead instantly broke out in a cold sweat, and his voice trembled slightly: "Yes...yes, Professor, I just want to complete the task you assigned me."

"Really? I thought you would seize the opportunity to ask some deep-seated secrets."

“I don’t understand what you’re saying?” Peter forced a smile.

"For example, is Voldemort really not dead? Will Voldemort come back? And when will he return..."

The young professor spoke slowly, and with each question he uttered, Peter's face paled a little more, his shoulders trembled involuntarily, and he subconsciously looked at the ouroboros mark on his hand, even suspecting that the mark could monitor his actions anytime, anywhere, or read his memories and thoughts.

No, no, that's something even the Dark Lord couldn't do.

Peter comforted himself with this thought, and looked away, only to meet the gaze of the rising Yulm. In an instant, Peter turned pale with fright, as a pair of cold, snake-like eyes stared straight at him, as if piercing his very soul.

The feeling of having his deepest secrets completely exposed sent chills down Peter's spine.

Just as he was on the verge of collapse, Melvin changed the subject, asking, "Peter, our deal is over. Have you thought about where you're going next?"

“This…” Peter was unsure how to answer.

Seemingly aware of his inner doubts, Melvin chuckled and his tone softened: "Don't worry, I'm a businessman who keeps his promises. If you bring back information for me, I will keep it a secret and will never reveal your identity to anyone, much less use it to blackmail you into continuing to work for me."

Peter felt that the professor was not a good wizard and his words were not very credible. After thinking for a moment, he said, "I plan to find a remote village to settle down, live my life, and never leave again."

“Outsiders who settle in the village, especially those who are older, will find it hard to find suitable work. Without work, there is no pay, and life will be very difficult…” Melvin was very considerate of him. “Here’s what I’ll do: I’ll give you a sum of Galleons before you leave. It can’t guarantee you a lifetime, but at least it will be enough for the first few months.”

"Thank...thank you."

Peter was now truly confused.

Is this professor, who is skilled in black magic, adept at coercion and bribery, who illegally detains people at the slightest disagreement, really a good person?
"You're welcome, it's just a small favor."

Melvin's tone became more gentle and casual, as if chatting: "Actually, I've done some research on wizards living in seclusion. It used to be easier to live in seclusion. Muggle identities were easy to forge, and no one would check them. Muggle currency could also be forged using transfiguration. Now it's more troublesome. Identification has to be checked on any mode of transportation. Muggles don't use cash much; they always use checks, credit cards, and gift certificates. Verification and reimbursement all require an online system, so forgery is easily exposed."

These words, spoken by a professor of Muggle studies, were particularly convincing: "While you can get away with a Confusion Charm or Imperius Charm if you get into trouble, too many anomalies could attract the attention of the Enforcement Division. You know, they are very concerned about secrecy laws."

Peter glanced at him and said weakly, "I plan to live in seclusion in the wizard village."

"The wizard village has become troublesome too."

"what?"

Melvin sighed with a complicated expression. "You were born at the wrong time. Some time ago, the Senior Undersecretary of the Ministry of Magic drafted the Anti-Werewolf Act, which requires werewolves to register. Of course, werewolves refused and ran around everywhere, trying to avoid being tracked down. So, residents in various places are extra wary of strange wizards who have migrated from afar and are very concerned about their identities. If no one can prove it, they will notify the Aurors to check."

Peter swallowed, feeling a little short of breath.

His identity is shady, yet he is quite well-known. As a deceased recipient of the Order of Merlin, Second Class, any Auror could easily find something amiss with a simple investigation.

Muggle towns are hard to disguise, and wizard villages will attract the attention of Aurors. Should I just turn into a rat and hide forever?
“Professor Levent, I… what should I do?” Peter asked, his voice choked with emotion, sounding particularly pitiful.

"Let's continue to disguise ourselves as rats. Find a shop to hide in, but make sure the owner is mild-mannered. Some wizards are short-tempered and will pull out their wands at the sight of a rat," Melvin advised earnestly.

Peter's face darkened further; this was not the answer he wanted to hear.

"The best place is the wizard's tavern. They're well-informed. You know, the wizarding world hasn't been very stable these past two years. Last year there was the trouble caused by Voldemort's remnant soul. He might come back at any time, so we need to be on the lookout."

“…” Peter shuddered in fear as he recalled the questions he had asked Bellatrix.

The sea fog seemed to be dissipating. Jourm strolled in the waves, hovering around the ship, the sound of rushing water filling his ears. After careful consideration, Peter arrived at an answer:
"Professor, what do you think about me going back to Hogwarts and continuing to hide around that Weasley brat?"

Melvin glanced at him with feigned surprise, then pondered for a moment: "Hogwarts is indeed the safest place, with plenty of food, no need to worry about Aurors interrogating you, and it's also convenient for gathering information."

Hearing the affirmative answer, Peter became somewhat uncertain again.

Melvin waved his hand: "Don't worry about me. I can swear an unbreakable oath that I will not reveal your identity to any third party. Similarly, I don't want you to reveal what I'm planning to do."

A sudden inspiration struck Peter, and he immediately understood the young professor's intention in doing so.

The professor didn't want to be out of sight and under control because he was wary of me and didn't want me to reveal that he was plotting to steal someone else's money!
This suspicion reassured Peter and increased his trust in the professor. His previous advice also seemed reasonable; in a sense, it was a case of both sides having leverage over each other.

As long as he doesn't reveal his plans, he will keep Animagus a secret for him!
“I understand what you mean, Professor Levent!”

……

In the deserted alleyways of Charing Cross Road, space was slightly distorted, as if being scorched by invisible and colorless flames, and then torn apart after reaching a certain limit, emitting a trembling sound.

"boom……"

A figure appeared out of thin air.

Looking around at the familiar roads, I quickly walked half a block away and saw the sign for the Leaky Cauldron.

During the weekend daytime opening hours, business was neither bustling nor quiet. There were just the right number of customers. A few old witches sat in a corner chatting quietly, while the wizards gathered in front of the mirror, cheering and cursing as they watched a Quidditch match, which seemed to be a training match in Scotland the night before.

The tavern was still dark and dirty, with thick layers of grease and grime covering the tables and chairs. Only the bar was relatively clean, where several wizards were gathered, chatting with a bald old wizard who looked like a shriveled walnut.

"Hey! Professor Levent, want a drink?"

The bald tavern owner's eyes lit up, and he immediately raised his glass and shouted, "Old Tom spotted the young professor the moment he walked in!"

Melvin chuckled, "Are you treating?"

"If it's Professor Levent, it would be my honor to offer the meal for free!"

Old Tom grinned and walked over with a glass of butterbeer in hand. He guessed that the professor probably had other things to do and hadn't brought any spirits like whiskey or vodka.

"How's business lately?" Melvin asked, taking the butterbeer.

Old Tom sat down opposite him: "Not bad. The impact of the home theater system isn't as bad as we expected. Some wizards like to watch Animal World and the news at home, but others prefer to come to the tavern to watch exciting and thrilling football matches, shouting and yelling with other fans. Even losing a game is more enjoyable."

Melvin turned his head and saw that the group of wizards watching the game were divided into two factions, which could be seen from their expressions when goals were scored. When there was a brilliant, crucial goal, some people would even get up and call the waiter, excitedly offering drinks to the others.

He lowered his voice and asked, "Old Tom, tell me the truth, you guys haven't been involved in anything like betting on football, have you?"

"Professor, we are a respectable pub; we wouldn't do such a disreputable thing!"

Old Tom grumbled in dissatisfaction, but lowered his voice for the second half of his sentence: "I heard that something's going on in Knockturn Alley because last summer the Ministry of Magic launched a crackdown, which made many wizards with dirty backgrounds pay a lot of fines, and many people are thinking about earning it back as soon as possible."

Melvin looked slightly surprised: "The mirror can't broadcast live, can it? How can they bet on a match that already has a result?"

"As long as the people involved in the gambling don't know the outcome, it's fine. They've prepared magical contracts, unbreakable vows... Anyway, the rules seem pretty fair." Old Tom couldn't explain it either.

Melvin nodded, not asking too many questions. Running a betting business in Knockturn Alley, being able to cheat is a kind of skill, and it's a matter of willingness to pay.

The promotion and dissemination of the Shadow Mirror will have both positive and negative impacts. The Magic Mirror Club cannot plan everything; letting wizards explore on their own is the right choice. Just as Professor McGonagall planned to connect to the Floo Network over the weekend, Melvin could probably foresee the outcome, but he still wanted them to try.

He twirled his wine glass in his hand, chatting idly with old Tom. After another round of gasps from the fans, Melvin casually asked:

"Old Tom, do you know the Lestrange family?"

"Lestrange?"

Old Tom clicked his tongue and recalled, "The Lestrange family of the Twenty-Eight Purebloods? Like the Black and Gaunt families, they were obsessed with using dark magic, which led to their members becoming increasingly radical, believing in pureblood supremacy, hating Muggles, and then engaging in inbreeding, which gradually led to their decline..."

“I remember their family was divided into three bloodlines.”

"The last witch of the Covors lineage, Leta Lestrange, went to France with the Scamander brothers and died at the hands of the cultists."

"The last witch of the Cyril bloodline was Nogia Lestrange. The last time I heard of her was in 1927. She was unmarried and had no children. I don't know if she is dead or alive."

"The last descendants of the Radolfs bloodline are still alive, namely the Rabastan and the Rodolfs brothers, both Death Eaters, and they'll never be able to leave Azkaban in this lifetime."

Melvin nodded thoughtfully: "Do you know where their old house is?"

"I think it was in Cornwall?"

Old Tom scratched his head. "I don't know the exact location either. These old-school pure-blood family estates are all hidden and cannot be marked on a map. Others need an invitation or permission to enter."

Melvin frowned slightly: "This seems a bit troublesome..."

(End of this chapter)