Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 215 Parisian Nights

On the hardwood desk, a stack of parchment documents written in French lay side by side with paper provided by the hotel, covered in scribbled handwriting in ballpoint pen, containing 15 short sentences, each corresponding to a mystery.

"Having gotten used to quill pens, it's really hard to get used to switching back to ballpoint pens."

Melvin put the parchment back into the file folder, leaving only the neat handwriting, and muttered to himself, "Terrorist attacks, marital murders, gang fights, drug dealers demanding repayment... life isn't peaceful for Parisians either."

“Every murder scene has traces left by a wizard,” Riddle warned ominously.

Melvin tapped the paper lightly with his pen: "In several cases of terrorist attacks and gang fights, many bystanders heard loud explosions, like gunshots, a few minutes after the incident. But the police hadn't arrived yet, and the perpetrators hadn't used their guns, so the Auror Bureau speculated that a wizard had used Apparition to escape the scene."

“These are probably just ordinary wizards who encountered an unexpected situation and were worried about getting into trouble. They didn’t want to be entangled with Muggles or deal with the Ministry of Magic afterwards, so they simply fled the scene.”

Riddle understood the mindset of dark wizards well: "If they are dark wizards or villains, they have planned their escape route before they make a move. They either blend into the crowd and pretend to be ordinary people, or they have a secret escape route and will not leave such obvious traces."

"I think so."

Melvin crossed out several Apparition-related cases: "Then there was the Champs-Élysées murder-suicide, where a dud woman suspected her wealthy husband of cheating, followed him and witnessed him on an intimate date with someone else, then attacked him, stabbing him seven times in the chest... During the subsequent interrogation, she appeared dazed, confused, and had amnesia, seemingly under a Soul Reaper's Curse."

“Tch…” Riddle scoffed. “There are always some people who try to pin the blame on the Imperius Curse in an attempt to escape judgment!”

Melvin cleared his throat, ignoring the Black King's veiled insults: "Then there's the drug dealers' debt collection and the gang fight. These two cases are related. The gang's main business is drug trafficking. During a late-night transaction, one party suddenly changed their mind, leading to a conflict. After the argument, they discovered that the gold used for the transaction was missing, escalating the conflict and triggering a gang fight the next day. Both leaders of the two sides died in the fight."

“There are monstrous fools among both Muggles and wizards. Such people only deserve to be ruled by others. Getting their stupid brains to think will only cause trouble for others,” Riddle calmly assessed. “The chest containing the gold was right under their noses, and the gold inside mysteriously disappeared. They have no reason or evidence to believe that the other party did it.”

"The Auror Bureau suspects that a wizard was nearby and secretly stole the gold."

Melvin looked at the handwriting on the paper. "In addition, several fat rats were found in the sewers at the crime scene. They were completely unharmed, with no external injuries or signs of serious illness, and were suspected to have been affected by the residual power of the Killing Curse."

“I’ve seen the photos in the documents. The rats are in a strange state. It’s definitely some kind of evil black magic, but it doesn’t seem like the effect of a killing curse.”

“No external injuries, but afflicted with dark magic. How can you be sure it’s not a killing curse?” Melvin was somewhat curious. He was now quite proficient in dark magic, but he was still a long way from being an expert like Riddle.

“The Killing Curse doesn’t cause intense pain. The deceased afflicted by magic usually have a peaceful face, not a distorted face and bulging eyes like this.” Riddle spoke with the air of a professor lecturing, his lecture brimming with valuable information. “A dark wizard wouldn’t bother using the Killing Curse on a few rats. The suspicions in the data being influenced by lingering effects are utterly foolish. These rats are scattered, the furthest being over ten feet away. What kind of powerful spell could cover such a large area?”

"It's more like some kind of area-of-effect magic..." Melvin said thoughtfully.

Riddle glanced at him sideways: "Don't even think about it. There's no black magic that can achieve that effect right now."

"Could it be that some other dark wizard invented it?"

"Do you think dark magic is a child's play? The birth of any dark magic originates from pure malice. The difficulty of creating dark magic far exceeds that of ordinary magic. It requires not only magical talent but also targeted malice. Only a few wizards have this talent." Riddle spread his hands, quite proudly. He was one of those very few.

“Whatever kind of dark magic it is, it’s not something an ordinary wizard can master.” Melvin had a lead, and circled the two cases. “I’ll suggest Mr. Grevis investigate in this direction tomorrow.”

“If possible, take me to see the bodies of the two dead men. I want to see how they died.” Riddle licked his lips, his scarlet eyes gleaming with excitement. “There is such a thing as black magic in this world that I have never seen before.”

"Speaking of black magic, I have something else to ask you."

Melvin folded the white paper on the table, looked up at those scarlet, sinister eyes, and said, "You know the Cruciatus Curse, right? I have a friend who's a healer. He recently saw a special patient who had completely lost his memory and sanity due to prolonged and severe torture caused by the Cruciatus Curse, and had no normal thinking ability whatsoever. Do you have any treatment suggestions?"

"The Crucifixion Curse? Prolonged torture, completely destroying one's sanity?" Riddle suddenly became interested.

Melvin nodded, clearly more interested in the torture process: "The abnormal magic in the body has been removed, and the disordered magic is gradually returning to normal. The ability to think is also being rebuilt little by little, but the person still can't remember anything from the past."

"It's like being hit by a powerful forgetfulness spell?"

“A powerful amnesia spell, yes.” Melvin laughed. “My friend has another patient who has been afflicted by a powerful amnesia spell. All his memories are gone, leaving only some instincts. His mental age is stuck at that of a three or four-year-old. Is it possible for him to recover?”

"The answer lies in the riddle itself, Melvin."

Riddle smiled gently. "Memories buried deep in the mind can only be unearthed by strong stimuli. Nothing is more suitable for breaking the Oblivion Curse than the Crucifixion. It is etched into the heart, reaching the very core, unforgettable for a lifetime..."

This phantom image is a devil peddling black magic.

Melvin fell into thought. The intense pain unveiled the memories concealed by the Oblivion Charm. There are many records in the history of magic of mental abnormalities or amnesia caused by intense stimulation, which is called dissociation. Then, intense stimulation can restore the original state. There are also related cases in Muggle medicine.

Can the Longbottoms and Lockhart's condition be treated in this way?

The young snake on the table suddenly twitched its tail, startled awake from its slumber. It looked around the room blankly, its consciousness not yet fully restored, then buried its head under its tail again, instinctively sticking out its tongue.

"hiss……"

Melvin felt a headache coming on too.

……

"boom!"

The last international travel portal to London was activated at the International Affairs Department, instantly disappearing from its original location and dragging all the surrounding passengers into another dimension. The space suddenly levitated, emitting a faint chime.

In an instant, it covered a distance of two thousand miles.

The red-haired Weasleys huddled together, landing and regaining their footing amidst a dizzying sense of weightlessness.

In the corridor outside the reception room of the Egyptian Ministry of Magic, a figure with red hair was already waiting. He immediately stepped forward.

The wizard was dressed in a long black leather robe, with a handsome face, tall and thin, and hair longer than many witches, tied in a ponytail. He wore earrings and dangling fang-shaped ornaments.

Why did you come at night? Wouldn't it be easier to travel during the day?

"You need to ask for leave if you come during the day."

Mrs. Weasley replied, and upon seeing his attire, immediately began to nag, "Bill, look at what you're wearing! These clothes, these boots, and your hair—aren't you afraid of the heat in the desert with such long hair?"

“I’ve arranged accommodations for you. Come with me.” William Weasley was used to his mother’s mannerisms and automatically filtered out the nagging. He calmly looked at his younger siblings behind him. “Gringotts has granted me a long leave. For the next few weeks, I’ll take you to visit the pyramids here.” George and Fred huddled together, looking around. Ron looked at his older brother with admiration in his eyes; he thought his brother’s outfit was incredibly cool.

Even the usually arrogant Percy became well-behaved and humble in front of this older brother, because this man, who had achieved the status of prefect and president while in school and graduated with certificates in 12 subjects, was the role model for him.

Only Arthur was completely uninhibited when facing his eldest son, patting him on the shoulder with a smile.

Bill said with some helplessness, "Actually, you don't need to come to Egypt. I can go home for Christmas this year. But if I apply for a long leave now, I might not be able to go home for Christmas."

"It's okay, just consider it an early Christmas."

"Your family came to Egypt for a trip, and you used Ron's money again, right? Is the family under a heavy burden?"

“You wouldn’t believe it!” Arthur puffed out his chest proudly. “I won the top prize in Wizarding Weekly this time, 700 Galleons. That’ll cover our trip and we’ll still have some left over. We’ll use it to buy a mirror back home, as a favor to Professor Levent’s business. He’s helped us so much before.”

"Ugh……"

Bill found his parents' spending habits both amusing and frustrating. They spent as much as they earned, never worried about the future, were unrestrained when they were rich, and frugal when their wallets were empty.

But he didn't say anything discouraging. Anyway, the Weasleys had always lived like this, and their mother would never let them go hungry. Bill simply nodded: "Is Professor Levent close to Ron?"

"It's fine, why are you asking?"

“The wizards in Egypt are also interested in the Shadow Mirror. Gringotts and the Ministry of Magic are both planning to collaborate with Professor Levent. In addition, the Alchemy Research Centre has a project that proposes to use Portkeys to replace FlooNet to achieve global signal coverage, and they plan to discuss it with the professor.”

Arthur scratched his bald head: "I'll have Ron ask him for you when we get back."

……

“It’s so beautiful.”

The cute little witch leaned against the windowsill, not caring about getting her robe dirty, her hands supporting her cheeks, her body slightly leaning forward, gazing at the city night view.

The lights along the Seine in the distance are dim, outlining the Louvre and the Place de la Opera, magnificent and splendid.

Beside the girl sat an intellectual woman at a small table, flipping through a newspaper. Her eyelashes brushed against the paper, and her brown eyes were full of curiosity. Although it was a thin newspaper and not printed with color ink, the portraits on it were lifelike and seemed to be waving at her.

"Mom, stop reading, there's no important news." Hermione muttered as she sat down next to her mother. "But Flourish and Blotts is really thoughtful. Even though they're in Paris, France, they can still send me newspapers so I can stay up-to-date on what's happening in the wizarding world."

"I have already made arrangements for the next few weeks."

"You must visit the monasteries in Paris. Those ancient monasteries are full of traces left by wizards. Also, the Louvre Museum has many artifacts left by wizards. Maybe there's some magic that will interest me."

"Perhaps I can look for the nearby wizard market; it might help with my thesis assignment."

"Professor Binns assigned a limited number of papers, so perhaps I can write some papers on Muggle studies in advance. Professor Levent always asks us to see the world from both Muggle and wizard perspectives, and Paris is a great source of material."

The newspaper on the table turned a page, and the little witch, clinging to her mother's hand, chattered incessantly. The intellectual woman's eyes softened, revealing a hint of doting affection.

Sending Hermione to that boarding school far away in Scotland, more than the magical and ancient spells, surprised her with the girl's personality transformation.

If she had the chance, she really wanted to thank Professor Levent properly.

……

"Hello, Mr. Owl."

Melvin suppressed a laugh and greeted him earnestly.

Mr. Grevis had two dark circles on his face, making him look just like a spectacled owl. It was clear he hadn't slept all night; he must have been studying the data and had discovered some clues. He came to find Melvin in the early morning light, afraid that Melvin would slip away.

Mr. Grevis paid no attention to his teasing and looked tired: "I ran into Mr. Bonnell this morning and told him that I wouldn't be participating in the patrol today; we'll be investigating the case separately."

Bonnell was the Auror captain from last night. Melvin pictured the middle-aged wizard's face in his mind—an ordinary face on the streets of Paris, nothing particularly memorable: "Didn't he ask why?"

Mr. Grevis shook his head: "No."

"He still doesn't know you accessed the files?"

"You probably don't know."

Mr. Grevis frowned as he recalled the conversation, unsure of the details, but he didn't dwell on it. He glanced at his watch and said, "None of that matters. Let's get started. Fifteen unsolved cases. We'll be busy for the next week."

"You're not planning to investigate each case one by one, are you?" Melvin asked with a strange expression.

"Otherwise what?" Mr. Grevis paused for a moment.

“I know why you couldn’t get promoted before.” Melvin shrugged. “Take out the case file, and I’ll analyze the case for you. From now on, I’m the head of the investigation team, and you’ll be my assistant.”

"I'll be...your assistant?"

Mr. Grevis gritted his teeth as he spoke. He had just invited Melvin to join the team last night, and this morning he was already his subordinate. The contrast was too stark.

However, this meant that Melvin already had a lead, proving that his invitation last night was correct. Mr. Grevis suddenly felt that he was wise, and thinking this way, it seemed that he could accept it.

By examining the parchment files and listening to Melvin's analysis and elimination of possibilities, the thorny case found a concrete and feasible direction.

Mr. Grevis's groggy mind, which had been foggy after staying up all night, suddenly became clear, even more so than with Baffy's Brain-Boosting Agent.

"...So, we'll focus on these two cases. First, we'll go to the crime scene to investigate, and then we'll go to the Muggle police station to see if we can examine the bodies up close."

(End of this chapter)