Hogwarts: Lacus doesn't want to be a witch who destroys nations.

The leader's office was dimly lit by a few large candles. Fenrir sat behind a rough wooden table, polishing a gleaming silver dagger. He looked up at the two people who entered, his gaze sharp as a knife. It lingered for a moment on Lux's tightly wrapped head before sweeping over Holmes's aged appearance.

"John said, a new werewolf?" Fenrir's voice was calm, yet carried an invisible pressure. He put down his dagger, crossed his hands on the table, and added, "And a Squirrel grandpa?"

"Yes...yes, Boss Greyback." Lux tried to make her voice sound both nervous and adoring. "My name is...Lina. This is my grandfather. We...we really have nowhere to go..." She recounted her "tragic experience" of transforming last night, vividly describing the details and conveying the emotions perfectly.

"Lord Fenrir, your reputation has spread throughout the werewolf community, and we sincerely pledge our allegiance." Then Holmes coughed again, so violently that the candlelight flickered, as if he might cough up his lungs at any moment.

Fenrir listened, his face expressionless, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. Only after Lux finished speaking did he slowly open his mouth, his voice cold and hard: "A Squirrel?" His gaze, filled with undisguised rejection, swept over Holmes. "We don't need burdens here. The power of werewolves isn't for caring for the old, weak, and disabled."

Lux's heart tightened, and she was about to plead for mercy.

Fenrir raised his hand to stop her, his gaze refocusing on her with a scrutinizing look: "You, Lina? Take off your headscarf and let me see you."

"Here it comes! The classic background check!" Lux's internal alarm bells were ringing. If her eye-catching blonde hair were to give her away, she would probably be taken out on the spot as an Auror spy or some other suspicious person. After all, those fake Aurors from last night definitely remembered her blonde hair.

Fortunately, Lux is no ordinary person either.

"Boss...I..." Lux feigned fear and inferiority, her voice barely audible, "I...when I transformed yesterday, I think...I think I messed up my hair...it looks so strange...I'm too ashamed to face anyone..."

As she spoke, she reached out with trembling hands to untie her headscarf, actually looking for the numbers stuck in her hair.

Just as the headscarf was about to slip off, Lux used the act of untying the headscarf to cover herself up, and then, through the fabric and headscarf, she mischievously and gently combed her hair with a comb.

The headscarf slipped off.

In an instant, it was as if a kilowatt-level green light had been turned on inside the shed!

Lux, who had been covered up, now had a head of bright, dazzling, and breathtakingly green hair, as if dyed from fresh spinach, so vibrant and lively that it was almost unbearable to look at.

Each strand of hair resembled an electrified neon light tube, shimmering in the dim candlelight, exuding a non-mainstream and highly impactful vitality.

Fenrir: "...?!"

Holmes forced back a cough and a twitching smile: "Lord Fenrir, this is indeed what he looks like after transforming back."

The guards at the gate were stunned; this hair color was even more unique than the wildest werewolf transformation.

Is it really a side effect of transformation? I've heard that some unlucky people grow scales the first time they transform, so changing their hair color doesn't seem impossible?

For the first time, a noticeable crack appeared on Fenrir's cold face.

He frowned, staring intently at Lux's glowing green hair, as if trying to understand whether it was some rare werewolf mutation or a Diagon Alley potion.

The color is so outrageous and striking that the option of an Auror spy seems unreasonable; a teenage fluorescent green Auror is just too much.

He remained silent for a good ten seconds before speaking with some difficulty, "...It seems your experience last night was indeed very intense."

Fenrir reluctantly attributed this to the aftereffects of the transformation accident.

Lux lowered her head at the opportune moment, her voice filled with shame and indignation: "Yes...yes, boss. I don't know why this happened...it's so ugly..."

Fenrir waved his hand, no longer looking at Lux's hair, as if looking at it for even a second would burn his retinas. "Alright, her hair will always come back to normal, or rather, it's good, at least it's eye-catching enough." He paused, his gaze becoming sharp and imposing again.

"The Fang Clan doesn't accept trash, much less people with questionable backgrounds." Fenrir stared at Lux. "Lina, you want to join? Fine, but you have to prove your worth, prove your loyalty to the clan, and prove that you genuinely need the protection of this place, and not... have ulterior motives."

He leaned forward slightly, the candlelight casting flickering shadows on his face, his voice low and calculating: "As for your grandfather..."

He glanced at Holmes, who was coughing so loudly it was almost deafening. "This isn't a charity. But... if you can complete the first task I give you and prove you're useful, I might make an exception and give him a corner to sit in, that's all."

Lux felt a chill run down her spine, knowing the real show was about to begin. Holmes also stopped coughing, his cloudy eyes peering through the gaps in his eyelashes, sharply capturing Fenrir's expression.

"What mission, boss? I'll do anything as long as my grandfather and I have a place to stay!" Lux immediately pledged her loyalty, her green hair swaying in a strange fluorescent trail as she moved.

Fenrir's lips curled into a cold smile. He was quite pleased with this sense of control. "Very good. This mission is both your pledge of allegiance and a small contribution to our new ally." He lowered his voice to make sure only those inside the shed could hear him.

"Have you heard of Knockover Alley?" Fenrir's gaze was like that of a venomous snake, fixed intently on Lux.

Lux's heart skipped a beat. Wasn't Knockturn Alley the most chaotic area, the most rampant trading of dark magic items, and the place that most wizards avoided?

She tried her best to maintain a blank expression with just the right amount of fear: "I...I've heard a little bit, boss. They say it's very dangerous there, all dark stuff."

"Danger? That's for others." Fenrir sneered. "Bogin-Bock recently got a new supplier, a strange wizard who calls himself a collector. He has a batch of goods, one of which I'm very interested in."

He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper, with a hint of conspiracy: "It's an opal necklace. If someone holds the necklace or wears it around their neck, they will die instantly."

Lux and Holmes both had a thought at the same time; this did indeed seem like something these dark wizards would be interested in.

Fenrir continued, "The UMNO members can't come forward directly, and the collectors are very wary and won't sell anything to us. Go and steal it."

His gaze fell on Lux's fluorescent green hair and her pitiful appearance after her transformation, and a calculating smile appeared on his face: "You, Lina, a little werewolf who has just transformed and whose hair has mutated, and who desperately needs help, is the perfect person to take your poor Squirrel grandpa with you and try your luck in finding any way to alleviate your pain."

"Your task," Fenrir said, enunciating each word clearly, "is to go to Bloodhorn Alley, find the Collector, and bring me back that necklace at the lowest possible cost, preferably zero cost. Remember, do not cause any disturbance, and do not expose the existence of the Fang Gang or the Ulquiorse. This is just a small test of your ability and loyalty."

He leaned back slightly against the rough chair, a cold, all-encompassing smile on his face: "Remember, I'm only giving you two days. If you succeed, you'll be a full member of the Fang Gang, and I'll reserve a corner for your Squib grandpa. If you fail..."

A cold glint flashed in his eyes. "Or if I discover even the slightest disloyalty in you, some creature in the alley might be quite interested in your green hair and delicate skin."

He waved his hand, as if shooing away flies: "Go out. Someone will give you a temporary place to stay. As for how to get to Knockturn Alley and how to find the Collector, that's your own problem to solve. Prove you're not a piece of trash, Lina."

After the two left, the scarred guard asked curiously, "Boss Fenrir, are we really going to offend Borgin-Bock? That necklace doesn't seem to be of much use to us, does it?"

Fenrir smiled slyly: "That necklace isn't important. What's real is letting that little green-haired guy test the collector's methods. Borgin-Bock suddenly has a new supplier? It might be an Auror in disguise. Let them investigate. We have a shipment going through Knockturn Alley later, and we can't afford any mistakes."

Another guard gestured for them to leave the leader's cave. Lux and Holmes, one with fluorescent green hair and the other hunched over, exchanged a glance in the dark, foul-smelling sewers.

Holmes narrowed his eyes slightly and muttered almost inaudibly, "Opal necklace... an interesting intersection." His eyes, hidden beneath the guise of age, once again gleamed with a hunter's light.

Lux rubbed her hair. "Knockturn Alley? I haven't learned Apparition yet. We need to go to the Leaky Cauldron first, then go through Diagon Alley. Old Sherlock, you might have a hard time getting in. Shall I try by myself?"

"No, Lux, we're going together." Holmes's eyes were firm. "Although I am indeed old and weak now, I still have a clear mind. I sense that there must be something else going on behind the Fang Gang."

"A problem?" Lux asked, puzzled.

"A gut feeling for solving cases, let's go."