Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 225 Dense Fog
Streets along the Seine in downtown Paris.

The winding asphalt road was rather deserted. A sudden thick fog in the early morning triggered traffic control, and there were few cars, horses, and pedestrians on the road. The wizards' figures were hidden in the fog, and they wandered around the city using their apparitions.

There are many eligible young wizards in the Paris region, some of whom are not yet 11 years old. They find the address on the envelope, carefully observe the signs of residence, and check whether they have lived there for a long time or have just moved there recently.

If you encounter a wizarding family, approach them, reveal your identity, and ask them questions. If it's a Muggle family, try to subtly inquire. If you happen to run into a neighbor who is out for a walk, strike up a conversation to investigate any suspicions.

Along the way, most of the children they found were ordinary little wizards. Some families had not yet noticed anything unusual about their children, while others had noticed something unusual but believed it was some kind of special ability and kept it a secret from the outside world.

Christine walked ahead, with Melvin beside her.

The two checked the information on the envelopes. One local wizard led the way, while the other, a wizard from out of town, quickly analyzed the information and picked out the envelopes that were cleared of suspicion. They worked together very well.

Sometimes they encounter 11-year-old wizards of appropriate age.

At this age, they are old enough to sign for acceptance letters. If the child is from a Muggle family, a professor from Beauxbatons will even visit to verify that they are not fraudsters. In previous years, this was done around the end of July by the main course professor, but this year it was done a little earlier by Ms. Rozier, the preparatory professor, who took over the task while she was away.

"Beauxbatons is the only magic school in France and one of the three major magic schools in Europe. The school offers many disciplines, including Transfiguration, Charms, Potions and more."

“I am Christine Rozier, the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts at the school.”

"Yes, children who are 11 years old or older and have magical talent will receive an acceptance letter."

"The school is a boarding school."

"..."

Melvin stood by the mailbox at the door, watching Christine patiently answer the students' parents' questions in the courtyard. The 11-year-old girl hid behind her parents, looking at them timidly. When she heard that the strange things that often happened to her were not a disease, but magic, her eyes lit up.

Although the girl is clearly the main character, the parents make no attempt to hide their curiosity about magic and Beauxbatons, constantly asking questions about the magical world.

The little witch quietly slipped out from behind her parents, came to Melvin, stood on tiptoe, tilted her head back, blinked her eyes, and babbled out a string of words.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak French,” Melvin said with a smile, crouching down to look the little girl in the eye.

“I…know a little…English,” the little girl persisted.

Melvin smiled. He did indeed only know a little, and his speech was slow and somewhat strange.

The little girl looked into his eyes: "You're also... a professor?"

"Yes, but not Beauxbatons, but a professor at Hogwarts."

"Hogg...Watts?"

"Another magic school in Europe, in Scotland, has a similar curriculum to Beauxbatons."

"..."

The screening took longer than expected. After the two finished discussing the Hogwarts Sorting House, Christine had already explained the precautions to the students' parents. She quietly stopped by the mailbox without disturbing the two.

The students' parents were also listening in, huddled together and talking quietly, seemingly discussing which magic school was better. When they heard Melvin introduce it as a closed boarding school, where students only returned once a year during winter and summer vacations, two parents exchanged a glance, their eyes shifting.

As she left that street, Christine overheard the parents saying:

"Let's stick with Beauxbatons, at least it's more convenient to go home for holidays."

"That's right!"

Melvin couldn't help but smile, seemingly guessing what the parents were talking about, and jokingly added, "After taking a stroll around Paris like this, maybe a few new students from Beauxbatons will transfer to Hogwarts this year."

"Ms. Maxim will hold a grudge against you."

"Shouldn't you be blamed? You made a mistake on your first day of orientation."

"..."

Christine silently turned to the next envelope.

She felt she was doing quite well, at least better than in her previous job. When she, as a professor, opened the door to the magical world for a new student, telling her that the strange power wasn't a disease or a demonic curse, but a magical gift, the student's eyes would always light up—a feeling that brought her joy.

"Let's go find the next little wizard and drag those cultists out."

Melvin was somewhat helpless. He had gone on vacation abroad for the summer, but in the end, he still couldn't escape working overtime, and it was unpaid.

……

Pikani emerged from the sewer pipe, his body covered in slippery, sticky filth, and the stench made him smell as if he had crawled out of a cesspool.

He had just returned from foraging for food. Traffic control was in effect on almost all the streets in the city. There was nothing of value in the trash cans, except for the ones behind some neighborhood bakeries. No garbage trucks were collecting the trash, and yesterday's expired bread was still piled up inside. These well-packaged foods hadn't gone bad yet, only having a faint sour smell.

So he brought the noodles back wrapped in his clothes, hoping to please his master.

"Throw the food over here, and you stay there, don't come any closer!" the man living in the abandoned pipe shouted.

The clean, sealed pipes had been thoroughly cleaned, with every part wiped repeatedly. Common moss and rust had been removed, but there were no supplies, and water and food were scarce. Those who ordered the slaves to work became increasingly irritable.

Pikani was a child raised in Salem Church. He received the Lord's grace from a young age and naturally became the Lord's slave when he grew up. He also had magical talent, but he was instilled with the Lord's concept from childhood that magic was the devil's curse and his own sin. He needed to pay for this sin in order to receive the Lord's redemption.

What a merciful God!

"There's only bread." He lowered his head in shame.

The man picked up a piece of bread and took a bite. The baguette snapped, causing his gums to ache. He forced himself to swallow the sour, expired bread, which, lacking moisture, almost got stuck in his throat. The man grew increasingly angry and smashed the remaining half of the baguette at the man's head.

"Useless thing! Didn't you even bring back some drinks!"

Pikani instinctively shrank his head, a move that enraged the man. He could no longer sit still, stood up, approached, and began kicking Pikani's head repeatedly.
"Useless! Bastard!"

"You actually dare to hide!"

"Are you still planning to attack me! You scum! You filthy worm!"

The rage poured down on him without restraint. Pikani curled up, enduring the man's beatings and curses, his lips moving silently as he recited a prayer of repentance: "The master's beatings are salvation, pain is salvation, only blood can wash away my sins..."

"Look at you!"

The man sneered at the cowardly and patient prayer, as if he had seen some kind of farcical performance. He kicked the baguette a few more times and then retreated to his original position, gnawing on the dry baguette while continuing to hurl insults.

“You’re quite obedient, Pikani, more sensible than that other bastard. I heard she lost control in the cemetery, and the Third Bishop almost lost his entire army.”

“Bastad.” Pickaninny knelt on the ground, his head bowed even lower, the girl's face appearing in his mind. Pickaninny meant little bastard; his father was an unclean wizard who had defiled his mother, giving birth to him and bringing with him this sin. There were several others like him, including Bastad, Kuhn, Buck, and Winky.

Kuhn died in the Texas shootout, and his sins were redeemed.

"Buck and Wenqi..."

Pikani turned his head slightly. In the corner sat his two companions, two sinner slaves, a boy and a girl, both around eight or nine years old.

The girl's dry, messy hair covered her entire face, making it impossible to see her features. Her gaze wandered, and she saw the baguette that had just been used to smash someone lying in front of her. Her hungry body reached out to grab the food, but stopped halfway, as if she had forgotten her intention.

The boy had a slightly sunken forehead with an oval-shaped scar. His eyes were half-open and half-closed, with his pupils dilated into a blank gray. Even the frequency of his blinking seemed almost imperceptible, as if he never had any expression. His whole face was stiff and mechanical.

Buck and Winnie were disobedient and talked back to their master, so the master took away their intelligence and language, making them only able to understand simple instructions, as an act of atonement.

That's good, at least Buck won't have to frown and worry anymore, and Wenqi won't have to cry in the middle of the night all the time.

A noise suddenly came from inside the pipe.

A sorcerer covered in sorcerer's clothes emerged from the cave, his expression grim: "We're in trouble."

“What could be more troublesome than starving to death in the sewers? Since arriving in Paris, the First Bishop has gone back to his home to rest, you all are leisurely picnicking on the lawn, while I'm hiding in the sewers, crammed together with these slaves every day,” the man said coldly.

Ignoring his venting complaints, the wizard threw the food and water he had brought in front of him:
"There's a thick fog in Paris. This isn't normal weather; it's fog created by wizards. Those guys from the French Auror Bureau are patrolling the city; they're definitely tracking us down."

Fresh bread and drinking water, along with sealed cold cuts of meat, filled a whole bag. Even including the portions for several slaves, it was more than enough for just one or two days.

The man became even angrier: "How long do you expect me to hide like a rat in the sewers all day? For the rest of my life?"

“The three Obscurials are all hidden here with you. This is our last weapon, and we cannot expose them.” The wizard divided the food into three portions and threw them to the three slaves. Buck and Winky sat there silently accepting the food and eating silently. Compared to them, who had their frontal lobes removed, Pikani was noticeably more lively.

The wizard stared into his dark eyes, and for some reason, suddenly thought of Bastad and felt a chill run down his spine.

"We can't keep hiding here forever."

The man took a vicious bite of the steak, a drop of pale red blood clinging to his lips, like a bloodthirsty beast. "The dense fog makes it easier for the Aurors to move around, and it also makes it easier for us. Instead of hiding in the sewers like rats, we should go out and hunt."

"You want to go out and capture the little wizard?"

“You’ve lost your best hound, so we need to find another one. Training Obscurials takes time, and I happen to have some free time.” The man was eager to try. “Besides, the dense fog is perfect for Obscurials to move around.”

“We can’t act recklessly now.” The wizard frowned. “We’ve spent a lot of money bribing officials within the Ministry of Magic to delay the investigation team’s search for us by having them fight amongst themselves. If we cause trouble now, it will only lead to bigger problems.”

"As long as the local wizards aren't touched and the Ministry of Magic doesn't find out, who will know?" the man said nonchalantly.

"what do you mean?"

“It’s summer vacation now, so there will definitely be young wizards from other countries traveling to Paris. We can kidnap a bunch of them and slowly raise them in the sewers.” The man let out a sinister laugh. “It would be even better if they were traveling as a family. We can torture the young wizard’s parents in front of him, brainwash him, and make him realize that he wouldn’t suffer like this if he didn’t have magic. We’ll make him hate magic and turn him into an Obscurial!”

“But…” the Purifier Wizard frowned.

"In addition, Pikani can smell other Obscurus scents, and if he's lucky, he might be able to find Bastad."

The purgatory agents fell silent, a sinister glint in their eyes.

……

The thick fog blocked out the sunlight, making the room slightly dim, a light perfect for sleeping.

Hermione, who was staying up late, trembled with her eyelashes, reluctant to leave her warm bed. She felt soft, fine hair brushing against her face, tickling her. She had been enjoying her bedroom all to herself since the start of the holidays, and the presence of her new roommate made her feel a little uncomfortable.

He felt that Bastian was always by his side, staring intently at him.

"..."

Hermione opened her eyes with a hint of helplessness.

The little girl, wrapped in a hotel nightgown, stood silently by the bed, very close to her, her bright blue eyes fixed on her without blinking, her gaze filled with tenderness and dependence.

Good morning, Bastian.

Good morning, Hermione.

"Did you sleep well?"

“Bastian has never slept in such a nice bed, never been covered with such a soft blanket.”

"When did you get up?" Hermione's heart softened.

"When the alarm goes off," Bastian answered every question obediently.

It had been ten minutes already. Hermione sighed inwardly, smoothed her messy hair, ruffled Bastian's hair, and got up to go to the bathroom.

The little girl followed closely beside her, asking, "Hermione, are we going to wash up again? Should we take a bath first or wash our hair first? I want to brush my teeth first; the toothpaste is sweet."

“You don’t need to go through all that trouble in the morning, just wash your face and brush your teeth.” Hermione patiently answered her question. “You can’t eat toothpaste, and you have to spit it out after brushing your teeth.”

This girl had never received an education, came from a terrible family, and lacked common sense. Hermione always felt a strange sense of satisfaction when taking care of her, as if she were a mature witch.

After washing up and leaving her room, Hermione didn't see her parents in the living room and assumed they were still in bed. She said to the little girl, "Bastian, I'll fix my hair. Go knock on the door and wake them up."

"Knock on the door and call them..."

The little girl repeated the command and ran towards the main entrance in her hotel slippers. Before Hermione could even greet her, the suite's main entrance opened, and her parents, carrying breakfast, pushed the door open and came in.

Bastian stopped right in front of them, tilting his head back with a determined look in his eyes: "Hermione told me to call you."

Mrs. Granger couldn't help but smile, hugged the little girl, and affectionately patted her head.

"..."

Hermione tilted her head as she watched this scene.

Is it a coincidence?

Bastian seemed to know they had come back from outside.

(End of this chapter)