Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 258 Mother and Son

Tears streamed down my cheeks, splashing onto my hands, warm and moist, before slowly cooling, leaving a chilly feeling in the winter night air.

Alice touched her cheek; tears soaked her hospital gown.

Why are you crying?

It seemed she had a very long dream, the contents of which were still in her mind, yet a hazy mist always blocked her from remembering them. No matter what she did, she couldn't recall them. A voice whispered in her mind, telling her not to remember, because the memories held unbearable pain.

"Are you willing to say it now?"

In the dimly lit room, the witch's shrill voice continued to interrogate him.

Frank wiped his sore nose, suddenly feeling annoyed: "We've already said it, we don't know who the Dark Lord is, or where he is!"

“That’s really unfortunate. I didn’t intend to involve poor Neville and Augusta…” the witch said in a low voice. There was a rustling sound in the shadows behind her, as if someone was whispering.

Frank and Alice suddenly felt a pang of pity. The names she mentioned, Neville and Augusta, evoked a sense of familiarity and closeness, reminding them of vague figures deep in their minds. Subconsciously, they didn't want them to suffer.

"How many times do we have to say it! We don't know who the Dark Lord is. If you want to find someone, go ask somewhere else! Neville and Augusta have nothing to do with this, don't drag them into this!"

Frank and Alice stood up.

They stood straight in the candlelight, wearing black and white striped hospital gowns. They could see many other wizards in the room, their heads bowed and faces blurred. Surrounded by these wizards was an old man and a child. The timid child held the old man's hand, his lips pursed, and he remained silent.

“They’re Neville and Augusta, we’ve met before,” Frank said, somewhat dazed. Alice stared at them, that strange sense of familiarity resurfacing.

The couple naturally stepped forward and reached out to the grandmother and grandson, trying to protect them behind them.

The children and the elderly looked up, their eyes flashing with complex emotions: panic, sadness, joy, and anticipation... Frank and Alice had never imagined that human eyes could reveal so many feelings.

Naturally, Frank ruffled the child's hair and whispered, "This woman is a mad witch, but don't be afraid, Neville, Augusta."

Alice wanted to do something to comfort him, to kiss his forehead or pat his shoulder. This feeling of closeness kept welling up from the bottom of her heart, accompanied by a sense of panic, as if something was about to break free of its cage.

“You shouldn’t be here; you should be hiding somewhere safe.”

"I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of any danger when I'm with you... Dad, Mom, I don't want our family to be separated again." The timid child mustered his courage and murmured.

Mom and dad?

Frank and Alice exchanged glances, their expressions hesitant.
"Is this calling us?"

"How could that be? Our child is only one year old..."

Frank was jolted awake. He looked up, a strange light flashing in his eyes, before a bewildered expression appeared on his face, as if he was wondering if he really had a child, and if so, where was their child?
“Now is not the time for you to reminisce…” Bellatrix stepped forward with a smile, and had someone separate them. “You have three seconds to tell me the location of the Dark Lord. Now, let’s start the countdown!”

"We've already said we don't know!" Frank tried to break through the barrier, but the indistinct faces held him firmly, and he couldn't break free.

"Three...two...one..."

"Let them go!"

The candlelight flickered in Hogsmeade. A grotesque witch pointed her wand at the grandfather and grandson, its tip glowing crimson: [Crucible]

The moment the red light burst forth, the two collapsed to the ground, their bodies convulsing and writhing. The old witch's face was contorted, her teeth clenched, and foam twitched from the corners of her mouth.

The child's eyes, which had been bright, were now bloodshot, the pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints, and he let out a restrained yet unbearable wail.

Frank and Alice's vision blurred for a moment, as if a gray mist had passed through their eyes and seeped into the depths of their souls. The house in front of them seemed to overlap with an abandoned tunnel, and the underground lights were just as dim. The red light of the Cruciatus Curse reflected on the walls, like a ferocious demon with its claws outstretched.

"Don't...don't!"

Even though they were standing outside the red light, they seemed to be experiencing the same pain, as if every inch of their skin was being burned by a branding iron and tortured by a dagger.

Watching the grandfather and grandson's bodies gradually weaken under the torment, their muscles relaxed yet spasming from time to time, their expressions changing from distorted pain to blank emptiness, their demeanor becoming dazed and foolish.

"Neville! Augusta!" they shouted the two names with all their might, their voices hoarse, tears streaming down their faces.

Magic is an incredibly powerful force. When you suffer unbearable pain, the magic flowing through your body will protect you, shielding and erasing all past memories. You will only need to eat, drink, and sleep each day, and you will no longer feel pain.

But some pain is not physical; it originates from the depths of the soul and mind, beyond the control of will and magic. It is like a volcanic eruption, the sky and earth collapsing, and when the pain is excruciating, even the barriers that once protected you are broken through.

Frank and Alice were overwhelmed by a torrent of memories. Their fingernails unknowingly pierced their palms, and tears and blood dripped together. A painful tsunami seemed to be swallowing up their newly regained sanity.

"Dad, Mom, will you abandon me and Grandma again this time?" someone asked timidly.

"Na...Nawi?"

Alice looked up, her eyes blurred by tears, as if she were still in a dream. The warning letter, the torture she endured, the thirteen years she spent recuperating at St. Mungo's, and the experience she had just had—all of it was a dream.

Torches lit up the room, and it was spotless. There were no abandoned tunnels, no Death Eaters, and no Cruciatus Curse. The spacious room contained a dozen black boxes, and several wizards stood by the wall. I immediately recognized the tabby cat by the bed and the old wizard with silver hair and beard.

“Because of the special nature of your condition, we have to adopt a special treatment plan.” Dumbledore stood in the corner, holding a kerosene lamp and waving it around, casting shadowy light in the room.

He paused briefly, then pointed to a young, handsome wizard: "It was mainly Professor Levent who proposed it."

Frank stared at him blankly for a while, memories of the past thirteen years flooding back. The experiences of his mental illness recovery seemed not to belong to him, yet they were his own personal experiences. Looking at Neville, who was now a teenager, and Augusta, who looked old, he was momentarily dazed.

Alice was still crying, but a faint smile appeared in her eyes.

“Neville, Neville, my child…” Wiping away her tears and blood from her wounds on her hospital gown, Alice looked down intently at Neville’s face, as if trying to imprint it into her heart.

Neville stood there in front of his mother, stunned, and could no longer hold back his tears.

This was the first time he had cried out loud without any restraint since he was old enough to understand. He didn't cry when neighbors and relatives belittled his talent for playing the dud, nor did he cry when his peers mocked him for being stupid and fat.

Even after being thrown from the third-floor window by his Uncle Agil and discovering that he wasn't a Squib, even after being guided by Professor Levent to learn the Summoning Charm that night, he only shed tears in secret.

Now, he can finally cry without restraint.

At first, it was just the mother and son sobbing in each other's arms, but gradually, another older mother and son also joined in, crying together.

Dumbledore and the other professors watched this scene silently. The words of reminiscing they had spoken remained unspoken, their greetings and congratulations stuck in their throats. They exchanged glances, hesitant to speak, and ultimately, without disturbing the family reunion, quietly left the room. The therapist, Melanie, watched the professors' retreating figures, wanting to follow, but her sense of responsibility wouldn't allow her to leave.

Patients who have received treatment from non-professionals must undergo thorough examination!
"..."

Seeing the Longbottom family crying their hearts out, the therapist squeezed into a corner, trying to minimize his presence.

……

Melvin stared at his shadow reflected on the street, his mind replaying the memories from earlier. He wondered what the principle behind the gray mist he had obtained from the Obscurial was, but it seemed to be exceptionally sensitive to painful emotions, making it much easier to break through the memory barrier of the Longbottoms than to break through the Horcrux's memory.

"Why are you all staring at the shadows without saying anything?" Flitwick spoke first. The half-elf's figure was the shortest, and the more he looked at it, the more painful it became.

Kettleburn sighed. "I'm just wondering where I'm going to stay tonight, the Leaky Cauldron, the Three Broomsticks, or the Pig's Head? It's my house, and now I can't even go home."

“Don’t say that. Frank and Alice have regained their memories, and the Longbottom family is reunited. We can’t interrupt them now and let them go home and catch up later,” Flitwick said with a smile. “If you’d like, you can go back to Hogwarts for the night. Hagrid lives in the Forbidden Forest, and your bedroom is still available.”

"Let's go chat with old Tom instead," Celtburn shook his head.

"The treatment I witnessed tonight, along with the news of Frank and Alice regaining their memories, could easily get old Tom a free night." Flitwick passed by the door of the Three Brooms shop and looked through the glass window; the shop was brightly lit inside.

Lupin nodded and remarked, "The idea and magical technique of using Occlumency to deceive Boggarts, guiding them to elicit their deepest fears, and then pushing them to trigger even deeper fears, is simply unbelievable."

“Your portrait will be displayed at St. Mungo’s Hospital, Melvin,” Sprout echoed.

“This is the result of everyone’s cooperation; I couldn’t have done this alone,” Melvin said with a smile.

His colleagues ignored his modesty and showered him with praise on the way back to school.

"If Melvin becomes the headmaster of Hogwarts in the future, he will be able to have his portrait displayed in the hospital and school, just like Mrs. Derwent."

"If the Aurors hear that you cured Frank and Alice, they will definitely support your entry into politics, and your portrait might even be displayed in the Ministry of Magic."

"Iphamoni might have to wear one too, hahaha..."

Listening to his colleagues chatting and laughing, Dumbledore seemed a little quiet tonight. Melvin turned to look at the headmaster in the corner, but noticed a more interesting figure.

My gaze went over the principal's shoulder and landed on the screaming shack not far away. In the deep night, a large black dog disappeared behind the shack.

"What are you looking at?" Dumbledore asked.

Melvin withdrew his gaze and couldn't help but chuckle: "The prelude to the show."

His fur was glossy and smooth, and the skinny dog ​​had gained a few pounds. It seemed that Sirius Black had adapted well to Hogsmeade. With a stable sanctuary, he was about to begin preparing for revenge against his old friend.

Infiltrating Hogwarts, raiding the Gryffindor Tower at night... Melvin is looking forward to his next move.

"We need to find a way to keep track of his whereabouts at all times."

……

Hogwarts has a fixed lights-out time; ghosts and portraits need to rest, and students are prohibited from going out at night without permission.

Gryffindor students are a particular target for prevention.

Filch and Mrs. Lorris would patrol regularly every night. If they were caught by the administrators while patrolling at night, they would at most get points deducted and be scolded by the prefect, Percy. If they were confined, they would have to clean the washrooms and wash the toilets of all the teachers and students in the school.

Except for a very small number of students who are keen on exploring the castle at night, most students return to their dormitories on time.

Late at night, in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory.

As the noise gradually subsided, Harry and Ron walked up the escalator, holding the glass Gobbler's Stone they had won back, and muttered to themselves, "Neville should be back by now. I need to ask him what he and the professor were up to..."

Harry smiled.

Neville was always the most punctual one in the boys' dormitory. In the first two years, he couldn't remember the fat lady's password and would occasionally forget it even if it was on his list. Several times he came back too late and was locked outside the portrait cave. Luckily, no one went out for a night stroll on those nights, so no one helped him open the door.

He met Professor Levent during a nighttime outing while searching for the list, learned the Summoning Charm, and never lost the password list again. He also developed the habit of returning to his dormitory early.

Over the course of two years, they had gotten used to seeing Navei already washed up when they returned to their dormitory every night.

But when he opened the door this time, he didn't see any familiar figures. All five beds were empty. Ron couldn't help but wonder, "It's normal for Seamus and Dean to come home late, but Neville isn't back either..."

"It's probably because of some special circumstances that caused the delay."

"No, I have to find out what they've been up to tonight!" Ron muttered.

"..."

Harry didn't speak, but a glint of light flickered in his eyes as he took off his coat and boots, lost in thought.

The headmaster and all the required course professors are out; it must be something very important. Neville might not be back for a while, or even at all tonight. But he didn't want to stifle Ron's curiosity. Hermione had said that curiosity was the most important thing in learning.

Harry made up his mind, changed into his pajamas, and began to wash up.

At the door of the room, Ron would occasionally peek around the corner of the corridor. Not wanting to change his shoes, he simply moved a chair over and stood guard at the dormitory entrance, waiting expectantly for Neville to return.

"Da da……"

There were footsteps.

Ron quickly got up to look and saw that it was Seamus and Dean, and immediately looked disappointed.

"Da da……"

This time it was George and Fred. Ron watched them walk away with a strange look in his eyes. The twins' room was further down the corridor.

"Da da……"

(End of this chapter)