I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 445 Heritage Protection Committee

I can't believe I've ever had the leisure to ponder whether to put one or two pieces of sugar in a cup of tea.

Mr. Ober Benny watched with amusement as the tea cubes poured down his cheeks. As the sugar cubes melted and collapsed, a slight smile spread across his face, and he couldn't help but let out a cheerful chuckle.

The last bit of sugar residue had nowhere to escape and finally fell into the dark tea soup.

"Finally free!" he said joyfully.

On the table, there is a notebook, a half-written letter, a quill pen, and a half-empty bottle of ink.

A delightful city.

India - Mumbai.

The British Ministry of Magic did a good job building this place. Although it is now independent, British influences can still be seen everywhere.

Mr. Ober Benny did not feel like he was in a foreign country at all.

He suppressed the smile on his lips.

He took a sip of tea.

"Hmm—it's a little sweet."

"It's definitely better to put sugar in one piece."

He put down his teacup, slowly picked up his quill pen, dipped it in ink, and continued to finish the letter he had only written halfway.

"The strangest thing I've seen in the past two weeks is a mountain."

We found it in a dense forest. I was puzzled because the day before, there wasn't a hill that was more than ten feet high in that forest. Although I'm going to need glasses soon because of my hard work these past few years, believe me, I can still see a hill clearly.

We went over to take a look, and at first it looked like ordinary rocks, but then I saw... a face! I really wanted to go over and say hello, but I felt that if I got too close it would crush me.

Other colleagues on the International Federation of Wizarding Societies' Heritage Preservation Committee can attest to what I'm saying—by the way, is this really the name of our department? Don't you think it's too long? I really don't know what Secretary General Serphis Kamar was thinking, but seriously Remus, are you sure we don't want to change the name?

—Getting back to the point, that wasn't actually a mountain, and it's obvious that it wasn't. —Uthers said that there were magical creatures like mountain spirits in the Ming Dynasty, but that mountain wasn't. It seemed to be the petrified body of some wizard. Besides finding the ruins of an obelisk on the mountaintop, we also found an ancient hammer. Uthers said it might be Thor's hammer. Haha —Of course I don't believe it.

We found nothing in the obelisk ruins. Unlike the one in Brazil, this one in India seemed truly eroded by time. The ancient runes on the walls were almost indistinguishable, and there were broken stones everywhere. In the center of the ruins, we found some traces of magic, as if someone had fought here. Fortunately, after Uther's confirmation, the traces were neither from hundreds or thousands of years ago, nor recent—thankfully, the Death Eaters hadn't been here. After seeing those traces, I was afraid the Death Eaters had already beaten us to it.

Yusus said that the magical traces came from more than 20 years ago, which is not good news. It means that someone has been searching for these ancient relics all over the world for more than 20 years.

President Dumbledore said that these obelisks contain ancient power and hoped that the Federation could protect and extract them before the Dead Apostles. However, it seems that we acted too late. If there really was some ancient power buried under these rubble, I guarantee that it would have been taken away decades ago.

Now our work has become easier.

After confirming that there was no danger in the surrounding area, the excavation work mainly focused on protection and investigation. In the past week, there have been no accidents, nor any of the traps or curses encountered in the excavation of the pyramids.

It's so peaceful—I really wish this kind of work could continue.

By the way, regarding the obelisk in Australia, Basil Pierre's team said they've found it, but unfortunately, theirs is also in ruins and there's nothing of value there. He'll write to you to report on the details.

And so it goes—the actual excavation may take a long time, and the runic inscriptions found in the ruins will also take time to decipher. Yussus is only a mediocre scholar; he only recognizes a few dozen of the hundreds of characters on the inscriptions. If the Federation has better runic experts, please send one to assist us.

Finally—may Merlin bless you!

May the world be at peace!

Mr. Ober Benny put down his pen.

I looked up and gazed into the distance.

The sea, the beach, a vacation!

Everything he had longed for had finally come true!

Haha—I've finally escaped the heavy workload of the Ministry of Magic and the search work of the Order of the Phoenix. Indeed—joining the Excavation Committee was the best decision he ever made.

"Hehe—I should have slowed down Uthers's pace, ideally letting the excavation continue for seven or eight years—haha!"

Mr. Ober Benny laughed heartily, then got up, put the letter away, and headed straight for the sea.

------

"Snap!!!"

"boom!!!"

The incessant thunder and lightning made Mr. Basil Pierre, who was already in a bad mood, even more depressed.

If he knew what a wonderful life Mr. Ober Benny was living right now, he would surely be insanely jealous on the spot.

He is currently located in a small, wizarding town in the southeastern part of the Tasman Peninsula in Australia.

His name is Tassi.

Abandoned old houses and dilapidated dwellings are crammed together haphazardly.

Even in the busiest part of town, it remains lifeless and sparsely populated during the day.

This is Tassi.

Of course, if you see any of the above, then you've come at the wrong time.

As a notorious blood port, valuable things certainly wouldn't grow from the scorched, black soil of the area.

Harbors – all the valuable things are naturally in the sea!

"Here we go again!" Mr. Basil Pierre covered his nose with a face towel stained with perfume.

Then he quickly walked back to the hotel from outside.

Next—a stench swept through the area.

It's like getting punched in the stomach, leaving you breathless and unable to set sail.

That stench always seems to penetrate very deep, making you feel like you can never get rid of it.

That was the intensely salty, fishy smell emitted after the sea monster Leviathan was gutted.

Leviathan—the name means "coiled thing." As its name suggests, it is a huge serpent capable of easily capsizing large ships.

Its intestines were thick enough to fit a person, and the other rotten waste clung to the cobblestone pavement and was exposed to the sun for weeks.

Besides marine mammals, there is also the droppings left by tens of thousands of seabirds that steal food. This stench is so strong that even the most pungent person would vomit.

Yes, it stinks terribly, but wizards love what it represents.

This stench signifies prosperity, a bountiful harvest, and the immense wealth brought by sea creatures.

When the waves are stained with blood, it means people have money in their pockets.

Leviathan—a legendary and magical creature.

His blood, one gallon, could sell for fifty gallons.

Its skin, bones, internal organs, and even its excrement are all extremely valuable magical materials.

The Leviathan is a massive creature—each one is equivalent to tens of thousands of Galleons on foot.

This town was thus born. It benefited from its unique location, being the perfect place to catch this creature that lives only in the ocean.

The town's dilapidated state had a reason: sailors didn't live there, and the wizards would leave after the winter fishing season ended each year.

"call--"

Taking a deep breath of the clean air, Mr. Basil Pierre stayed in his room, gazing out the window at the revelry on the beach.

He was somewhat disgusted—but had no intention of criticizing the locals.

Every place has its own way of surviving.

Prosperity always has a tinge of foulness.

"Bang bang bang—"

Suddenly there was a knock on his door.

Mr. Basil Pierre turned around and opened the door.

"It's you?" The person outside the door was extremely unexpected to him.

They used to be colleagues.

But this relationship ended three years ago.

Because before the third grade, Swan Rozier, the then vice president of the International Confederation of Wizards, was ousted.

Later she heard that the other person had returned to their hometown.

I never expected to run into you here.

"Relevant experience—it's a harmful thing." The man spoke fluent English, with an accent that even sounded a bit like London's. "I'm on vacation."

She walked straight in.

He sat down on the sofa by himself.

Mr. Basil Pierre immediately understood everything.

After he requested support from the Federation, Dumbledore must have used some means to request assistance from the Far East Ministry of Magic, and they sent her, who had experience working with the Federation.

Several years ago, after Vice President Swann Rosier fell from power, he was ordered to send Rosier's family tree to the Rosier descendants studying at Hogwarts.

He had already met Dumbledore at that time.

He is not one of Vice President Swan Rozier's men.

It was precisely because it wasn't her that the item was delivered to Owen safely and without error. If it had been one of her people, Dumbledore might not have allowed him into the castle.

"I heard you've returned home. How are you? What are you doing now?" Mr. Basil Pierre waved his wand, and the teapot on the table floated up, pouring tea into two teacups.

He walked toward the armchair by the window.

He sat down, picked up his teacup, and said, "The Federation is different now. Dumbledore is in charge, Grindelwald has returned, and Mystic has been resurrected—uh—maybe you can come back?"

His gaze was intense as he looked at the girl before him.

She was a tall, proud-looking girl.

Her long, jet-black hair fell naturally, and the slight waves added a touch of laziness and casualness to her look.

Her hair fluttered gently, and her dark eyes held a mischievous and lively quality.

She always wore a simple pair of silver earrings, a gift from her teacher, which was a religious artifact.

He was wearing a blue plaid suit with a white shirt underneath.

The suit was tailored to fit her perfectly, highlighting her figure.

She wore a pair of loose-fitting dark blue trousers and black high heels.

She looked to be only in her early twenties. She had delicate skin, refined features, and an air of elegance about her. She was also holding a folding fan in her hand.

"Hmph—" The girl snorted lightly, her dark eyes falling on the man. "It sounds like troublesome stuff. What, Basil? Are you trying to drag me into this?"

"The capable should do more," Mr. Pierre smiled awkwardly. "You are a famous genius wizard. With a few years of training, you will surely become a legendary wizard like President Dumbledore."

"No need." The girl held up her folding fan and gently touched the tea in her hand. In a short while, a cool sensation swept over her, and the temperature of the tea dropped by several tens of degrees. "There are enough genius wizards nowadays."

"And—" she took a sip of tea, "I'm quite content being a professor at the Imperial Academy in Chang'an."

"Chang'an Imperial Academy? Professor?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," the girl explained.

"The Master agreed? That's really good." Mr. Pierre said with a hint of regret.

"Alright, let's get down to business! I want to go back this morning and enjoy my vacation."

"Hmm—" Mr. Pierre nodded, then said, "The excavation work on the obelisk has begun, located near this island. So far, we haven't found anything. It's as if it's just ruins."

"Bad news." Hearing this, the girl frowned slightly. "It seems that what the teacher was worried about has come to pass—hmm—it really is a troublesome matter."

"There's a strange area over there in the sea; we're preparing to explore it."

"So you applied for support? Were you unsure?"

"Think of Brazil and Italy," Mr. Pierre rolled his eyes. "Who dares to say they can be sure?"

"What about the local Ministry of Magic?" the girl asked again.

"Australia? They're only willing to take responsibility for hiding and security on the islands, indifferent to the dangers at sea, and unwilling to offer any assistance."

"That's normal—they just don't want to take responsibility," the girl said. "Okay, now that you've made up your mind, when are you leaving?"

Mr. Pierre paused slightly, took another sip of tea, and said, “No rush. Our reinforcements haven’t all arrived yet. Black is still on his way, Winston is in France, and Roy’s American affairs aren’t finished yet, but he might come. Hmm—and a few others will probably be due tomorrow or the day after.”

"So I'm the first one?" The girl raised an eyebrow, looking rather annoyed. "Fine then—I'll go explore Melbourne."

"Uh—" Mr. Pierre quickly put down his teacup, then stood up abruptly. "Together?"

"Basil Pierre?" The girl narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing him warily. "You wouldn't happen to have some ulterior motive towards me, would you?"

"..." Mr. Pierre was momentarily speechless, opening his mouth but not knowing what to say, his eyes darting away in a panic. "I—no—I just—"

"No?" The girl smiled sweetly, like a vibrant flower, gently waving her folding fan. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. "Hmm—it seems I really have no charm at all. I can't even win over Mr. Pierre's heart."

"."

A sense of familiarity suddenly arose.

He couldn't help but feel a bit hot, and his mind kept replaying those scenes from three years ago.

"Alright—come back to reality—don't let me know what you're thinking about." The girl's smile faded, and then she said casually, "Let's go, let's go."

"Let's chat on the way."

"Okay," Mr. Pierre replied, and then the two left the inn and town, Apparating to Melbourne.

The first rays of dawn gradually illuminated the sky, and the city awoke from its slumber.

The outlines of the skyscrapers gradually became clear in the morning light, and the glass curtain walls reflected a dazzling light, like countless small suns dancing.

Pedestrians began to hurry, weaving through the streets in a rush of people during the morning rush hour. Young office workers, carrying briefcases and dressed in neat suits, were cogs in the great machine of the city, each performing their assigned duties. A hint of weariness lingered on their faces, and their eyes held no hope.

The two emerged from a statue.

Then we strolled through the streets of Melbourne.

"open--"

"Xiaolin—" Mr. Pierre said, "Aren't you really going to consider the Federation's work? Things aren't what they used to be. Since Swann Rozier's downfall, the Federation has become much 'cleaner.' Besides, you still have blood relatives in England."

"What? You want me to go back that much?" Zhang Xiaolin's lips curled into a subtle smile.

"Of course—we all need you," he said somewhat urgently.

"Hmm—we'll see." The girl tossed her hair and said arrogantly. Her dark eyes fell on Pierre, revealing a hint of disappointment.

I took two steps.

She quickly changed the subject, saying, "By the way, before I came here, I heard that there had been an accident at the excavation site in India these past two days."

"Accident?"

Something has infiltrated our territory.

"So? What are your plans?"

"We don't need to worry about it. Thanks to Gilderoy Lockhart's writings, wizards cross the border to smuggle in every year."

The Himalayas are home to creatures like the Yeti.

It was a magical creature, standing over fifteen feet tall, covered in snow-white fur, and possibly related to trolls in some way.

Every year, exploration teams go there to investigate.

Some are legitimate, while others—harbor wicked intentions.

Gilderoy Lockhart's "A Year with the Yeti" has led to a surge in the number of such wizard adventure groups every year, which is quite annoying.

"Lockhart is dead," Mr. Pierre said calmly.

"But his influence is still there," the girl said. "In order to study and investigate the Yeti, the International Wizarding Federation established a permanent research station here and cooperated with the Ministry of Magic of the Great Ming Dynasty to station a national special operations team. They should be able to handle this matter, but the main problem is with the excavation team. They did not do a good job of concealing it beforehand, and now wizards throughout the entire Southeast Asian peninsula know that there is an ancient magical site there."

"The concealment work is the responsibility of the local Ministry of Magic, and we don't have enough manpower," Mr. Pierre said with a determined look in his eyes. "That's why I applied for support. Besides, it's perfectly normal for an ancient magical site to be discovered in the Far East."

"That land has a long history."

"It mainly caused us trouble," the witch said, looking annoyed. "It also serves as a reminder that we need to be more meticulous in our digging."

"I will be careful," Mr. Pierre nodded.

(End of this chapter)