Hogwarts' Golden Glory

After Norbert was taken away by Charlie's companions, Hagrid's tears fell like broken beads onto the floor of the cabin.

"She'll miss me..."

Hagrid blew his nose with a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth, his voice muffled like thunder, "She hasn't even worn the wool socks I knitted for her yet..."

Charlie Weasley patted Hagrid on the shoulder; the dragon claw scar on his arm was particularly noticeable in the sunlight.

"Don't worry, we'll take good care of her. The Malfoy family's dragon farm is excellent, and—"

He winked at Ron, "When you have your holidays, you can come to Romania to see her."

Ron's face lit up immediately: "Really?"

"certainly."

Charlie chuckled and ruffled his brother's messy red hair. "Bill was here last month and almost got sprayed to death by a Hungarian wood bee—but they had a lot of fun."

His gaze swept over Harry and Hermione. "You're welcome to come too."

I saw Hagrid next to me sobbing.

Hermione quickly handed him a freshly baked rock cake: "Eating something will make you feel better, Hagrid."

"Thanks, Hermione..."

Hagrid took a bite and broke half a tooth, but he didn't seem to notice. "You're all good kids..."

On the way back to the castle, the setting sun cast long shadows of the four of them.

Ron was still gesturing excitedly: "Charlie said that wood wasp was forty feet long! Its scales—"

Suddenly, a chilling creaking sound came from the end of the corridor.

Filch's hunched figure looked particularly sinister in the dim oil lamplight, with Mrs. Lorris standing at his feet, her yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness.

"Ah ha! Our little criminals," Filch's voice, like a rusty door hinge, carried undisguised pleasure, "which saves me the trouble of looking for you."

He pulled a roll of yellowed parchment from his greasy robe and slowly unfolded it with his withered fingers, as if savoring the moment.

"The principal's office has just issued a new notice," he deliberately drew out, "given the serious violations of school rules by certain individuals..."

Harry felt a heavy weight in his stomach. Filch grinned, revealing a few yellowed teeth:

"Sunday night at nine o'clock—" he paused dramatically, "you will assist the game range keepers in patrolling the forbidden forest."

"The Forbidden Forest?!" Ron's voice trembled. "There are werewolves! Spiders! And even—"

"—There is still a chance for you to reflect on your mistakes."

Filch interrupted him cheerfully, the lamplight casting eerie shadows on his sunken cheeks. "Professor McGonagall specifically instructed that if you dare to be even a minute late..."

Mrs. Lorris let out a timely scream.

Neville suddenly pushed his way forward, his round face flushed with excitement: "The Forbidden Forest? Is that the Forbidden Forest with unicorns?"

Filch's expression twisted. "You think this is a picnic, Longbottom? There's something there that can tear you to shreds!"

"That's awesome!" Neville wasn't listening at all and had already started flipping through his Fantastic Beasts Encyclopedia. "Kane said that unicorn tears can heal—"

"Are you crazy?" Ron whispered. "We might die there—"

"Nine o'clock sharp, at the castle gate."

Filch interrupted them harshly, "If you're late..."

He made a throat-slitting gesture, then dragged himself away contentedly, the glow of the oil lamp casting a swaying, terrifying shadow on the stone wall.

Hermione looked at the three boys with concern: "You must be careful, the Forbidden Forest is really dangerous..."

But Neville had already pulled out a copy of "The Fantastic Beasts Encyclopedia," excitedly flipping to the page with unicorns: "Look! As long as you keep a pure heart, they won't hurt you!"

Hermione frowned: "The problem is, the Forbidden Forest isn't just home to unicorns..."

Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office.

The gold-plated instruments in the office were still humming.

Fudge slumped in the soft armchair, constantly wiping his oily forehead with a handkerchief.

Kane Malfoy stood quietly by the window, his grey-blue eyes gazing toward the Forbidden Forest in the distance.

"Albus, this matter must be handled with caution."

Fudge's voice was filled with anxiety: "Black has been imprisoned in Azkaban for twelve years, and then suddenly he is declared innocent and released—the public will explode."

Dumbledore looked at him over his half-moon spectacles: "Connelly, justice should not be deterred by public opinion."

"Of course! Of course!" Fudge hurriedly waved his hand. "The Ministry of Magic needs a complete explanation. For example... back then Crouch acted arbitrarily, and now Wissengamo is setting things right..."

Kane tapped his fingers lightly on the window frame: "The Daily Prophet has prepared a special report highlighting your courage in correcting the mistakes of your predecessor, Minister."

Kane really looked down on Fudge; the other man only cared about money and his power.

However, these are precisely the types of people who are easiest to control.

Fudge's eyes lit up: "Great! Very good!"

He rubbed his chubby hands together. "And the compensation from the other party..."

To him, the Ministry of Magic's money was his money, and he was somewhat reluctant to part with it.

"According to the Ministry of Magic's Wrongful Conviction Compensation Act," Kane continued smoothly, "Sirius should receive 5000 Galleons per year for emotional distress, plus interest compensation on the frozen assets of the Black family, totaling approximately 7 Galleons."

Fudge's lips twitched: "This...so much?"

"Considering that approximately 50 Galleons were mistakenly frozen for twelve years in the Black family's Gringotts vault,"

Dumbledore added gently, "This amount is quite restrained; if their collection were included, it would be several times that amount."

Fudge suddenly realized something: "Wait, what if Blake causes trouble after he gets out of prison? With his temper..."

"Professor Dumbledore will handle it," Kane said calmly.

Dumbledore then asked, "And what do you plan to do with Peter?"

"The Dementor's Kiss," Fudge said decisively. "It'll be carried out tomorrow."

Kane frowned slightly: "Minister, Peter also possesses a great deal of intelligence on the Death Eaters..."

Kane needs Peter to do one more thing.

"No! We must deal with it immediately!" Fudge's voice suddenly sharpened. "What if he talks nonsense during the trial and implicates the Ministry of Magic's negligence back then..."

Dumbledore sighed. "At least let him testify at Wizengamor before..."

"No!"

Fudge jumped to his feet, his stomach knocking over a box of candy on the table. "That woman Skeeter has her eye on this! Every day we delay increases the risk!"

Kane and Dumbledore exchanged a glance.

"Then a compromise," Kane suggested, "is for my father to supervise Peter until Wizengamo has completed the necessary evidence gathering. The dungeons of Malfoy Manor... are safe."

Fudge clung to this like a lifeline: "Okay! Let's do it this way! I trust Lucius to handle things!"

Right after Fudge left, Professor Ald expressed his dissatisfaction: "Having someone like that as the leader of the wizarding world will only lead it to destruction sooner or later. Albus, you're not even as good as him..."