The Evil Thoughts of Hogwarts and the Genie

Chapter 92 Filch and Moody

The young Auror shuddered at Old Ned's ominous remark. He wanted to exclaim, "A storm is brewing!" but that was far too ominous for an Auror like himself. He swallowed the words and sighed helplessly.

"...Is that true?" the young Auror asked in a low voice. "I can't believe it—I'm sorry, Mr. Ned, but it really is...it's so counterintuitive."

Old Ned gave a strange look, as if he both wanted to hear the question and was afraid of having the old story brought up again. He glanced around nervously several times, as if afraid someone would overhear their conversation.

"Those bastards in the department, they only relay the good half of the message!" Mr. Ned said with a pained expression. "Only Cooper and Merlin know what really happened that day...yes! He did turn that Muggle girl into a witch! But he also turned her into a Squib!"

The young Auror frowned in dismay upon hearing this. This young man was a pure-blood wizard and couldn't imagine how he would live after "becoming a Squib."

An old man and a young man walked toward the accident scene, marveling at the strange events that had been happening recently. But when they finally arrived, all they found was a broken wall.

The old wizard, who should have been waiting for rescue, had vanished. After all, Aberforth had always despised the bureaucracy of the Ministry of Magic. Even in his view, being attacked by his great-niece was hardly an achievement. He had no desire to dwell on the matter any longer and had apparated away, still seething with resentment. Leaving behind two Aurors, lamenting yet another strange occurrence.

Meanwhile, the Auror captain in charge of suppressing the Squibs acted swiftly and decisively. With eyes sharper than an eagle's, he surveyed the chaos, then immediately cast a Fog Charm, followed by several "Blazing Flames" into the fog. The Muggles watching the violent demonstration reacted instantly, screaming and scattering; the train station manager also sounded the fire alarm, clearing the area for the wizards.

But this wasn't the first time the Squibs had encountered a similar situation. Many of them immediately threw their tattered robes on the ground, revealing their dubious Muggle attire, and blended into the crowd, escaping with the Muggles!

If it weren't for the Auror captain's quick reaction, he almost wouldn't have caught a single person. Several spells hit a few "familiar faces" that he had already targeted. The Squibs that he hit and fell to the ground all wailed in unison, as if they were suffering some terrible pain.

This caused the young Aurors in the group to show their pity. Even though these guys had just caused such a big commotion and violated the secrecy law, "Squibs are just as vulnerable as Muggles." Similar ideas were already deeply ingrained in the minds of these young wizards, and even though they had been running around and busy with the Squibs recently, the wizards still didn't take these poor souls to heart.

However, after the first Auror who tried to help the other was bitten on the hand, the wizards also abandoned their mercy and became rough.

The Auror leading the group, Alastor Moody, gave a half-helpless, half-mocking snort. He took two steps toward the man huddled in the corner, then stopped a meter or so away.

"Filch, is that you!" Moody shouted. "Stop pretending—I don't want to get pricked by your needle again! Get up, stop playing the victim, no one's going to help you!"

Upon hearing this, the man raised his head with a venomous look in his eyes. He wasn't ugly, but his demeanor was terrifying.

"—It's you again." Filch said hatefully, his teeth grinding together. "Auror—you pesky bastard!"

"A hopeless old fool," Moody sighed. "It's you again, isn't it? It's you again, you incited those young people to risk their lives for this nonsense—you shameless scoundrel! You have no idea how dangerous it is! Didn't I tell you the situation is already very urgent!"

In fact, the two were quite similar in age, but the age difference was only apparent because one was a wizard with a longer lifespan and slower aging, and the other was a Squib. What's more, they both spoke very rudely. Although Moody was more refined in comparison, he loved to use particularly exaggerated vocabulary, so neither Filch nor the young Aurors around him took his "urgent situation" to heart.

Filch stood up cursing and shoved the young Auror who came to arrest him. Moody just shook his head. Not satisfied, Filch spat at his feet.

The young Auror greatly respected Moody, and seeing this, he couldn't help but cast a spell. But before Filch could groan, Moody's wand flashed, and he glared fiercely at the young Auror:

"Alright! He's just a Squib after all—save your anger for the dark wizard, young man!"

Moody stepped forward and patted the young Auror on the shoulder, frowning as he looked back at Filch. "Stop going crazy, Filch! I'm not kidding, you'll get those guys in big trouble!"

Moody spoke with sincerity, yet his words were vague. This was unavoidable; his source of information, that great white-bearded old man, loved to tell riddles all day long. He himself only knew that the pure-blood families were currently very excited, but he hadn't yet figured out the reason for their excitement.

Filch was silent for two seconds, as if he had given up, then suddenly broke free of his restraints and rammed into Moody.

Moody remained motionless, forcing the dead squid back two steps and causing it to fall to the ground. Even so, Filch refused to give up:

"You hypocrites—you all deserve divine retribution, you villains who steal magic!!"

"Do you think I don't know? Do you think I haven't heard?!"

"From Knockturn Alley to Hogsmeade—it's all over the world!! There's a wizard, an Auror! He turned Muggles into witches—you've had this technology for a long time—it was all orchestrated by your Ministry of Magic, wasn't it? You stole our magic! You turned us into Squibs!!"

The young Auror responsible for arresting Filch was both amused and exasperated by this rambling. He angrily pulled Filch back to his feet, only to nearly get bitten on the cheek by the old Squirrel – judging by the position, Filch was probably trying to tear off his ear.

Even a clay figure has some earthy spirit. The sorcerer quickly cast a binding spell, cursing as he floated the speechless and furious Filch to the air. This time, Moody couldn't say anything more, and the Aurors, along with the few remaining Squibs, Apparated away.

Meanwhile, the Squibs who had escaped the station with the Muggles regrouped, counting heads in a tense atmosphere.

Mr. Filch Collins-Storfort-Morgan—

Every time someone was absent, the female dud in charge of roll call couldn't help but shake her head. She also couldn't stop sighing.

He patted Mr. Cobblestone with concern, who seemed unusually lost and dejected for some reason.

The woman's gaze thus shifted to Mr. Coppert's side, and this became evidence of that.

"Feed—?"

"Who...who are you?"

Sometime during the day, a stranger found himself in the group of familiar faces.

In other words, there was one more member than the original members when they returned from this operation.