Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 227 Dark Clouds
The dense fog resulted in few tourists, so it was understandable that the museum was a bit deserted. But I don't know when it started, the Denong area of ​​the south wing became quiet and silent, and even the staff could not be seen.

Bright lights shone on the exhibition hall floor. The strikingly beautiful Veela mother and daughter exchanged a glance, then looked at the sheepdog rolling around on the ground, finding it somewhat amusing.

"Is the person Caramel met yesterday really here?"

Mr. Delacour muttered in surprise, “Père Lachaise Cemetery, Louvre Museum, their tour itinerary is exactly the same as ours. Maybe we should go up and say hello, we might run into them later.”

This was a short, chubby, middle-aged male wizard with a pointed black mustache. He wasn't particularly handsome, and his voice was rather deep: "I also want to ask them what they did with Caramel, that it scared Caramel so much that it couldn't eat dinner."

"Dad, Caramel didn't not eat dinner, it just ate too much and its belly is full of hot dogs."

The beautiful daughter, Furong, said helplessly, "Besides, we don't even know who they are. What if we get into trouble if we suddenly go over and say hello?"

The Delacour family is usually busy with school and work, and they finally managed to get together during the summer vacation. However, because the parents didn't have enough time during their vacation, the family didn't take a long trip and only planned to explore the area around Paris. As a result, they encountered something strange at Père Lachaise Cemetery yesterday.

Caramel, the swallowtail dog, got lost for two hours while out for a walk. When she came back, she was acting strangely. First, she snuggled in her mother's arms and whimpered. After calming down, she circled around Gabrielle and wouldn't go far, as if she was worried about Gabrielle.

The Delacour family didn't think much of it, assuming that Caramel was just having too much fun and acting a little strangely.

Caramel remained lying at Gabrielle's feet until dinner time, refusing to leave. This unusual behavior caught the attention of the whole family. Caramel is a gluttonous dog, usually burying its entire body in its bowl for dinner. Tonight, however, it was unmoved and seemed to have no appetite.

Mother Apollino Delacour and Gabrielle were on tenterhooks, forgetting about dinner, and crowded around Caramel to check on her and ask questions.

Wizards generally don't understand dog language, but they have Veela blood, so they are naturally good at getting close to animals. Moreover, Caramel is smart enough to understand what it is trying to say by whimpering and gesturing.

After half an hour of struggling, I finally managed to get some information about Caramel's background:
While wandering around the cemetery, it encountered another barking companion who asked for help in finding something for two wizards. Following the scent, it ended up in a wasteland, where it encountered terrible magic.

"The wind was blowing everywhere, it almost swept the dog into the sky."

Furong still remembers Caramel's wild gestures. The puppy's eyes widened, not showing any fear, but rather a bit of amusement. After learning that it wasn't eating dinner because it was full of hot dogs, the amusement became even more hilarious.

Caramel resumed her usual appetite this morning, and the Delacour family visited the Louvre as planned; the thick fog that obstructed their view could not stop the wizard.

"Since we've met at the Louvre, let's get to know each other if we have the chance to meet."

Apollin Delacour said that the witch had a waterfall of blonde hair and, despite having two children, her half-Veer blood made her still beautiful and young, with an elegant and gentle smile. "Perhaps the wizard just discovered that Caramel was a swallowtail dog and used magic to trick it, and then treated it to a hot dog as an apology."

"Let's forget about it. Paris seems to be in turmoil these past few days. This thick fog is obviously released by the Auror Bureau for their own convenience. Honey, do you remember the patrol we had a while ago?"

Madame de la Cour nodded and patted Caramel's head: "They say there are cultists and black wizards hiding in Paris."

"The Purifiers from Texas are ruthless and vicious, and they have powerful backers. My classmates at the Ministry of Magic told me that some officials accepted their bribes and deliberately obstructed the investigation, which angered Miss Rosier, and that's why they started a thorough investigation." Mr. Delacour shook his head and sighed. "We'd better not greet unfamiliar wizards casually."

"Now that we're here, let's take a look from afar."

“Let’s forget about it. The Auror Bureau and the Rozier family are both looking for him. If it really is him, it could easily cause unnecessary trouble.” Fleur suddenly paused, frowned slightly, and looked at the sky outside the door. “Mom and Dad, is it just my imagination? The fog outside seems to be getting thicker and thicker, and the color is turning a bit black…”

"I also think the color is dark. Has the Auror who released the dense fog been replaced?"

The family looked up at the door.

The once pure white mist was now tinged with a leaden gray, like dark clouds brewing a storm, so thick they were almost lumpy, hovering low in the air as if about to collapse at any moment. The swallow-tailed dog lying on the ground rolled over and stood up, warily watching the thick fog outside, pacing anxiously around the family, growling uneasily.

"Caramel said there were familiar smells in the fog too."

Mr. Delacour looked puzzled. "What's going on? Wasn't the wizard Caramel met yesterday inside the exhibition hall? Why is there a smell outside too? Could it be an Auror from the Ministry of Magic?"

“That’s definitely not the fog released by the Aurors, no, it’s not fog at all.”

Mrs. Delacour gripped her husband's arm tightly. Veela's wild intuition was screaming a warning: it wasn't fog, but a wild beast, a dangerous beast that was approaching normally!

“Those are black wizards hiding in Paris. They’re here to find those people in the exhibition hall…” She took a deep breath. “We’re really in trouble. We need to get out of here quickly.”

Mr. Delacour immediately took out his wand and was about to Apparate with his family when he paused for a moment before leaving. "Wait, we can't just leave like this. We need to warn the wizard in the arena."

……

“In ancient Egypt, slaves were their private property. They might be foreigners who were bought and sold, prisoners of war, or relatives of criminals. In short, their lives were very miserable. During the day, they had to move stones to build temples and pyramids, and at night they had to do odd jobs. They couldn’t even sleep well.”

Hermione, with a serious expression, told Bastian about the tragic plight of slaves.

"Can they eat candy?" Bastian's focus was peculiar.

"No candy, no steak, nothing at all, just some black bread and leftover soup, rotten and spoiled food that will give you diarrhea if you eat too much." Hermione wanted to change the little girl's mindset, thinking that Bastian had been treated inhumanely, had not received a proper education, and had been indoctrinated with wrong ideas by her relatives.

Bastian just said that he was a slave of the Granger family, and that as long as there was good food and warm, comfortable clothes, being a slave wasn't so bad.

Hermione was so angry she was dizzy: "You are not anyone's slave. There are no slaves anymore. You are your own master. No matter how good the conditions are, it's not worth giving up your dignity and freedom."

"Dignity and freedom."

Bastian tilted her head, recalling the scene at the cemetery yesterday. She heard what the former owner had said, and suddenly she didn't want to listen to him anymore.

Hermione, seeing the girl's thoughtful expression, adopted the air of Professor Levent, about to say something philosophical, when an envelope suddenly floated over and landed in her hand. It was a museum-provided souvenir envelope, without a signature or stamp.

Hermione pulled out a letter, which also contained no information, just a few lines of messy English, interspersed with spelling errors that didn't affect readability:

"Get out of here as soon as possible! The dark wizards of Salem are approaching; they're after your sister. They possess unimaginable power. If necessary, seek help from the Ministry of Magic and the Rozier family."

Hermione looked around, feeling confused. Who wrote the letter? Who was the Purifier dark wizard? What did they have to do with it? Then she suddenly realized something and looked down at the little girl: "Bastian, have you ever heard of Salem?"

Bastian nodded: "I used to live there."

Hermione felt a surge of anger. No wonder there were still people keeping slaves in the new century. Those vicious dark wizards used this method to brainwash children. They couldn't tolerate their slaves escaping and had chased after them in a fit of rage.

After the anger came a chill; the cultist's dark wizard was clearly not someone a little witch like her could handle.

Hermione's thoughts were in turmoil, and questions kept arising.

Who used this method to issue a warning?
What is the Rozier family?
What role did they play in this?
How did those dark wizards find him, and why are they clinging to Bastian?

Hermione noticed ink marks on the back of the letter. Turning it over, she saw a simple line drawing of a map, mainly depicting the city of Paris, with two places marked by prominent arrows: Place Furstenberg and the location of the riverside suburbs.

The traces of the French wizard I've been searching for are revealed in an unexpected way.

Hermione had no interest in planning any sightseeing, neither the French Ministry of Magic nor the mysterious Rosier Manor. An uncontrollable unease rose within her, and she looked out the window to see a thick, gloomy fog.

The temperature was rising, and the summer morning fog should have dissipated long ago, but these eerie thick fogs not only did not thin out, but became even more gloomy. The surging clouds and fog resembled an abyss, and the girl's heart sank lower and lower.

"We can't lose Bastian, and we can't let Mom and Dad down."

Hermione made a decision in a very short time. She took a deep breath, looked up and called to her parents, who were discussing the mummification process, "Dad, Mom, I'd like to take Bastian to see some other exhibits, is that alright?"

Her voice trembled slightly, though not very noticeably, perhaps from the dampness and cold.

Mr. Granger gave his daughter a strange look and waved his hand: "Don't go too far."

Thankfully, her parents didn't notice. Hermione grabbed Bastian and ran outside. There were no taxis outside, so they had to take the subway. Unfortunately, she hadn't learned Apparition yet, so she couldn't make too much noise and attract the attention of the cultists.

The little girl didn't ask why at all. Holding that soft hand, she followed Hermione blankly. She could hear the rapid heartbeat and sense the panic of her new owner.

“Hermione, you should go back.” Bastian suddenly stopped and whispered, “I can leave on my own. The Picardies can only smell me; they won’t be able to find you.”

“Piccany?” Hermione was taken aback.

Bastian pointed to a cloud of leaden clouds outside.

Hermione looked in the direction she was pointing and saw that the thick fog and leaden clouds in the sky were not mixed together. The fog was still fog, but three dark clouds were looming on the horizon, looming over and creating the scene of an impending storm.

"You... can also transform into that state?"

“Hmm.” Bastian nodded.

Hermione suddenly recalled many unusual things about her: her sudden appearance in Paris, the absence of relatives and family, and the fact that she was able to return to the hotel with her. She was not an abandoned child from an ordinary family, but a warrior trained by a dark wizard.

Hermione looked down silently at Bastian. The little girl's expression returned to its indifferent state, as if she had become that child on the street again, watching others receive candy with a lonely and pitiful look on her face. Her little face was expressionless and somewhat blank.

“Don’t worry, Bastian, I won’t leave you.” Hermione gently pulled her into her arms, her voice calm but firm.

"So are we."

The middle-aged dentist's voice rang in my ears, "Although we don't have magic, we are adults, and adults won't abandon children and let them face danger alone."

Hermione felt herself being embraced in a warm hug by her parents. The 13-year-old witch couldn't hide her emotions, and her voice trembled when she lied, which alerted her parents who were with her day and night. They quietly followed her out and overheard what she said next.

"..."

Hermione held her parents' and Bastian's hands and suddenly realized there was nothing to be afraid of.

Yes, they are about to face dangerous and cruel cultists. Her parents are ordinary people who do not know magic, but she is a witch. Her professor is a genius who graduated from Ephamonide, and her headmaster is the most powerful wizard in the world. After the holidays, she will have to go back to Hogwarts to study and attend Professor Levent's tutoring class every Saturday.

The thought of all the things she had to do in the future made her want to swing her wand with all her might.

Before they knew it, a thick fog enveloped them, as if sealing off the entire museum. The lingering fog dissipated, revealing a heavy, leaden-gray sky. Just as the family was about to find a place to hide, Hermione suddenly realized that she couldn't hold her little hand.

Bastian stood rooted to the spot, looking up at the sky.

Three faces emerged from the clouds. The one in the middle was expressionless, while the other two were dull and lifeless, with what appeared to be oval-shaped wounds on their foreheads.

"They're already here."

(End of this chapter)