Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 213 Mr. Grevis is a Lucky Star
There are open-air cafes along the pedestrian street, and the air is filled with the aroma of coffee, milk and chocolate. The orange lights are reflected on the river, and the shadows of pedestrians are also reflected on the river. Ripples and light and shadow blend together and sway, creating a hazy and indistinct scene.

"Beauty and the Beast? Of course, that's fake too. Wizards can indeed transform into lions; there's a kind of magic called Animagus. But once transformed, they can't walk or talk, let alone put on a love story," Melvin said with a light laugh.

Claire, walking beside him, looked melancholy and occasionally let out a long sigh of regret.

As Melvin deciphered the magic in Andersen's fairy tales, he handed the francs to the café clerk. Claire's impression of the mystique surrounding magic and wizards gradually faded, and she felt that her work might be affected. Her previously praised creative ideas had largely relied on her unwavering belief in magic.

Her colleagues all praised her imagination for its fantastical elements, but only she knew that magic and wizards truly existed.

Melvin took the coffee from the barista, smelled its rich aroma, and glanced at the dejected assistant: "The magical world also has fairy tales. I happen to know a story about the French witch Lisette Lapin and the Animagus."

Claire blinked. "You're not going to make up a story on the spot to comfort me, are you?"

“What are you thinking about? ‘Babbidi the Rabbit and the Froakie’s Stump,’ a classic story that has been passed down in the wizarding world for thousands of years.” Melvin glanced at her and began to tell a chapter from “The Tales of Beedle the Bard.” “Long, long ago, in a very, very far place, there lived a foolish Muggle king.”

"Wait! What do you mean, Muggle?"

"Just an ordinary person who doesn't know magic."

Melvin took a sip of his coffee, which tasted awful: "The king believed that magic could only be wielded by the most noble person, and he was that most noble person, so he sent troops to hunt down wizards while simultaneously hiring private magic tutors..."

The plot of "The Frog Tree Stump" is actually quite simple: the king hires a conman to teach him magic, but the conman slips up when he tries to swindle money. To save his head, he has to find a way to cover it up. By chance, he finds the real wizard and threatens her to help him cover up his lies.

A foolish king, a cunning liar, and the smug witch Babbitt—the three groups create a series of chaotic events. The cunning liar breaks his promise and betrays the witch, prompting the king to send troops to hunt her down.

“Babbiti ran to a low fence and vanished in an instant. When the king, the liar, and all the courtiers arrived, they only saw an old tree stump. Hunting dogs were barking and scratching around the old tree, so they all thought the witch had turned into the stump, but in fact she had turned into a rabbit and was hiding inside…”

Despite being hacked and chopped down until the tree stump was almost reduced to dust, the king and the liar could still hear Babbitt's cheerful laughter. The witch claimed to have cursed the king, saying that any harm done to the witch would be amplified and make the king suffer a fate worse than death for the rest of his life.

Having witnessed the wonders of magic, the king was so frightened that he knelt down and begged for mercy, promising to drop the pursuit of the wizard and erect a pure gold statue of Babbitt in the castle.

"At the end of the story, when the ashamed king and nobles returned to the palace, the tree stump was still laughing behind them. When the courtyard was empty, a chubby old rabbit with long whiskers popped out, carrying a magic wand, and hopped away."

Melvin swirled the coffee in the paper cup, releasing its aroma.

“It does sound like a fairy tale, with warnings and educational messages.” Claire nodded thoughtfully, took a sip of coffee, and remained expressionless. “With some minor tweaks and character development, it could definitely be made into a movie.”

Melvin listened to his assistant's ramblings with a pleasant feeling. She hadn't even returned to work yet, but she already knew how to assign him tasks. His boss was truly touched.

"But what does this have to do with France?"

"It is said to be based on the story of the famous French witch Lapin."

Melvin said, looking for a trash can as he spoke: "In the early 15th century, she was sentenced for practicing witchcraft in Paris, but on the eve of her execution, she turned into a rabbit and escaped through a gap in the window bars. Later, some people saw the white rabbit sitting in a cauldron with a sail raised, drifting across the English Channel and becoming Henry VI's magic advisor."

“The historical context is also there…” Claire muttered.

In the darkness of night, various vehicles travel along the road, their headlights and streetlights reflected on the water, creating a brightly lit scene.

Melvin suddenly sensed the magical fluctuations of the magical creatures. He looked up and saw several strong, divine horses pulling carriages across the night sky. Their silver manes shimmered with starlight and moonlight, their eyes were like two rubies, and their bodies were almost as big as elephants. They glided through the air, displaying their divine and majestic bearing.

He was taken aback. He had visited North America, Britain, and Budapest before, and the wizards there all strictly adhered to the law of secrecy. Even if they could use a Muggle banishment charm to shield themselves from Muggles, they were still worried about being photographed and left with traces by technological creations. He had never seen anyone so ostentatious.

As expected of a city that almost suffered from a fierce fire, the Parisian wizards seemed somewhat relaxed.

"What are you looking at?" Claire asked.

"nothing……"

To avoid attracting the attention of other pedestrians, Melvin lowered his head and looked away, but the divine carriage seemed to sense his gaze and landed in a nearby alley.

A few moments later, hurried footsteps approached, and four wizards dressed in black robes walked over, their eyes sharp as knives. They glanced at the assistant beside them, then stared straight at Melvin.

The middle-aged Auror walked up to Melvin and rattled off a string of French words in a questioning tone, which Claire could hear.

Melvin looked puzzled.

"He asked you if you're a wizard?" Claire translated for him.

Upon hearing this translation, the leading Auror immediately switched languages, asking in a cold, hard voice, "Are you a British wizard?"

"I suppose so. I am a professor at Hogwarts..."

Melvin paused, then suddenly remembered something: he had come to Paris directly using an illegal Portkey, without registering his entry with the French Ministry of Magic; in a sense, he was a genuine illegal immigrant.

"Do you have any identification? Let me see your entry documents." The middle-aged male wizard reached out his hand to him.

"Ugh……"

Melvin sighed. This outlaw, who had long been skirting the edge of the law, was about to be caught red-handed.

A gentle evening breeze blew by, and the atmosphere became somewhat strange. The Aurors moved silently, retreating as they formed an encirclement, reaching into their waist pockets where their wands were kept.

Years of experience and teamwork in law enforcement allowed them to reach a consensus without prior communication: this was an illegal black magic practitioner, and they immediately took countermeasures. They didn't launch an immediate attack, not out of fear of resistance, but primarily out of concern that he might take hostages.

“British dark wizards, surrender,” Auror whispered. “Taking hostages and causing harm is a serious crime. Think it over.”

"Hostage hostages?"

Melvin turned his head, and Claire squinted at him, making a face at him with an expression of anticipation.

It's almost 10 p.m. now. Cooperating with the Aurors will probably mean being arrested and locked up overnight, then going to court tomorrow morning to pay a fine and register my identity. It doesn't seem like a good option at all... The atmosphere is getting tense, and a major battle is imminent.

Just then, footsteps approached, breaking the stalemate, and a familiar face squeezed into the group.

Having gained experience at Woolworth House, Melvin had long operated on the fringes of the law. Unexpectedly, at this critical moment of disaster, his old friend suddenly appeared to bail him out. "Mr. Bonnell, Melvin, don't do anything, calm down."

Mr. Grevis approached Melvin, speaking slowly and repeating his advice in French so that both could hear him clearly.

The middle-aged Auror's appearance and attire remained unchanged, just as they had been when they last met. He wore a few strands of gray hair neatly combed, a black-gray robe, and the emblem of the Magical Congress pinned to his chest. He appeared to be on official business in Paris.

"Mr. Grevis, it's been a long time."

Melvin couldn't help but smile, his greeting tinged with sincere gratitude. Mr. Grevis was his lucky star; whenever he encountered criminal legal issues, he would always appear in time to help him resolve the crisis.

“I told you, you have to obey the laws of every country!” Mr. Grevis said menacingly as he approached.

Several local French Aurors realized it was a misunderstanding and relaxed. The middle-aged Auror stepped forward to negotiate with Grevis. The two communicated in hushed French, and it was unclear how they were speaking. The Auror captain would occasionally turn to look at Melvin, his eyes somewhere between wary of a dangerous dark wizard and a foolish thief.

While the Auror captain was talking to his squad members, Grevis turned around expressionlessly and asked in a low voice, "Why aren't you teaching at Hogwarts? What are you doing in Paris?"

"Please, sir, it's summer vacation, can't a professor travel abroad?" Melvin asked innocently.

Mr. Grevis ignored him: "How did you get here?"

"A friend recommended the door key."

"Doesn't the British Ministry of Magic have a legal way to leave the country?"

"Yes, but smuggling is easier."

Mr. Grevis felt a headache coming on: "You'll be locked up in the wizarding prison sooner or later."

The Auror squad members finished their conversation, lined up, and turned around. The Auror captain relayed the results to Grevis, glancing at Melvin and Claire out of the corner of his eye.

Mr. Grevis glanced at Claire and frowned. "They said Claire is a Muggle and, according to the secrecy law, her memory of tonight should be erased."

"Doesn't the Ministry of Magic have diplomatic regulations?" Claire asked, her eyes wide with disbelief. "I'm an American Muggle, not a French Muggle. What right do they have to erase my memories?"

Miss Raven is just like Melvin.
Mr. Grevis felt utterly exhausted: "Melvin, try to persuade your assistant."

Claire turned her head and looked warily at her former boss. Melvin said nothing, but gave her a look.

That was the code she used back at the Gershwin Theatre. Whenever the theatre manager or actors made any unreasonable demands, Melvin would give her this look, signaling her to agree first and not to make trouble, as he had a way to get away with it.

Claire remained silent, watching as Mr. Grevis pulled Melvin into the carriage, while the Auror in his robes approached, pulled out a thin wooden stick, and pointed the tip at her eyes.

【Once forgotten, everything is empty】

Nothing happened, I didn't feel anything.

Claire blinked, watching the Aurors hurry away, tilted her head, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

The boss is still the most reliable.

……

The rune horse with eyes like rubies took off, and the wizard sitting in the carriage did not feel any weightlessness or jolting. Melvin thought of Professor Kettleburn's Iser Dragon. The rune horse's wingbeats slowed down, and he knew that it had successfully taken off.

The carriage glided above Paris, its destination the French Ministry of Magic.

"Coffee or hot cocoa?" Mr. Grevis asked. The room they were in resembled a meeting room, an interrogation room, or, with a little modification, a prison cell.

"Hot cocoa, I don't like Parisian coffee."

Melvin sat in the next seat, curiously looking around. The interior of the carriage had been modified with a Seamless Stretch Charm, making it spacious, but there was no unnecessary furniture or decorations, only a few sets of tables and chairs, simple and efficient, clearly the office equipment of the Ministry of Magic.

The Aurors around him were talking quietly in French, oblivious to Grevis. Melvin guessed that the two Aurors were carrying out some kind of joint operation.

“The French Ministry of Magic has relatively lax immigration control. If you were traveling illegally under normal circumstances, they might let you go. But you were unlucky enough to run into martial law.” Mr. Grevis shook his head.

"Martial law?" Melvin asked in a low voice. "What happened?"

"It was all caused by those guys from Second Salem."

Mr. Grevis sighed. “Four months ago, I found a purge stronghold in McClane County, Texas. Further investigation revealed they were entangled with a group of Protestants. The situation was more complicated than we had anticipated: cult, brainwashing, drugs, armed groups, Muggle politicians, military control…”

"These keywords sound complicated."

Melvin feigned surprise, gasped, and blinked. "But it's all fine for wizards. The Living Hell Potion turns into a thick fog and is poured in; they'll all be knocked out in a few minutes."

“That was our initial plan, but no one expected that the Muggle government’s FBI was also investigating them and launched a raid before us.” Mr. Grevis unconsciously clenched his fist. “They didn’t expect that there were real wizards lurking among them. The first Muggles to raid suffered heavy casualties, which triggered a larger-scale conflict. Negotiations failed, the situation escalated, and it evolved into a more intense all-out war.”

"war?"

“War.” Mr. Grevis nodded. “Woolworth Building tried to make contact with the Pentagon, and the Enforcement Division wanted to send strikers to provide magical assistance, but some foolish Muggles blocked the aid because they could profit from their arms deals!”

"Hmm...that's so Pentagon-like."

"Yes, with their tacit approval, the fighting lasted for two months. The Muggle cult was destroyed, but the people from Second Salem escaped. We tracked down the magical traces left by the Portkey and determined that they were hiding in Paris..."

Mr. Grevis extended his hand to Melvin, “Welcome to the investigation team, Melvin!”

"?"

(End of this chapter)