If it hadn't been for Professor White and the others strongly supporting it, he wouldn't have… wait!
The sense of urgency in Dumbledore's heart suddenly vanished, and he inwardly scolded himself for being muddle-headed. He was no longer alone—he had extremely reliable allies!
With Professor White's help, he could afford to be much more at ease.
As Dumbledore weighed the pros and cons, silence filled the Black residence. Harry and Sirius both waited nervously for Dumbledore's "verdict."
"Very well, starting Occlumency after term begins will be just fine," Dumbledore said after making his decision.
Harry and Sirius both let out a sigh of relief.
This was truly great, Harry thought to himself. He could survive a little longer. As for what would happen after term started, he decided to leave that problem to his future self. Besides, learning at Hogwarts was hardly the same as learning at Snape's house.
"Have a pleasant holiday," Dumbledore said with a smile before leaving the Black residence.
Harry felt his mood brighten. Next, he would just enjoy the holiday to the fullest! After all, he had already contacted Professor Dumbledore about his scar. All he needed to do now was take his medicine properly.
Good times always passed quickly, and soon it was time to head to the Burrow.
Harry spent a wonderful period there. He met Ron's older brothers and got to know them—Charlie, the sturdy and honest dragon keeper, and Bill, the cool curse-breaker, both left a deep impression on him.
However, Harry didn't see Percy.
According to Mr. Weasley, Percy had caught the attention of an important figure at the Ministry of Magic and had been entrusted with significant responsibilities, keeping him so busy that he rarely came home.
"Honestly, he's working too hard. He looks so worn out," Mrs. Weasley complained with a frown, though the pride in her voice was impossible to hide.
...
Before long, the day to head to the Quidditch World Cup final arrived. Rhys also set off together with Daphne and Astoria. Mr. Jamison had departed earlier to liaise with officials from various Ministries of Magic.
"I don't like Portkeys." Rhys rubbed his abdomen.
Just moments ago, he and the Greengrass sisters had used a Portkey to arrive at the World Cup final site—a desolate, fog-covered marshland.
The experience of using a Portkey was terrible, like a hook yanking hard at his navel.
After taking a couple of deep breaths to suppress the discomfort in his stomach, Rhys looked around at the surroundings. Surprisingly, the place reminded him of his hometown.
He, too, had come from a marshland.
Two strangely dressed wizards came over to collect their Portkey and informed the three of the campsite's location.
After they left, Rhys frowned and asked, "Why are they dressed like that? Is it some custom of this region?"
Astoria knew the answer. She told Rhys that it was to reduce suspicion from Muggles—officials from the Ministry of Magic all adopted Muggle attire.
Rhys: "…"
He truly didn't know how to respond. In his view, it would have been better to just wear wizard robes properly. This kind of outfit was far too conspicuous!
"These people…" Rhys trailed off halfway through his sentence, because the thought alone was disheartening.
With people like this, how were they supposed to compete with Muggles?
Carrying a mood heavier than the morning fog, Rhys led Daphne and Astoria toward their campsite.
Because the Greengrass family had secured excellent tickets, they didn't need to arrive a week early. They could come on the day of the match and leave among the first afterward.
When they arrived at the campsite, Rhys's mood instantly improved. Countless wizards had gathered there—more than he had ever seen in his life. Just in their section alone, there were hundreds of tents and no fewer than a thousand wizards, and there were over a hundred such sections.
Rhys looked around like a curious child, wanting to take in every bit of the scenery and customs.
After walking and stopping along the way, the three of them finally reached the campsite assigned to them.
Their spot was at the edge of the campsite, near the woods. Beside them was an empty area belonging to a wizarding family named "Wezley," who had not arrived yet.
Daphne took a tent out of her small backpack, and with a flick of her wand, it set itself up. Astoria, meanwhile, set up a stove nearby and lit a fire.
Rhys watched the two girls bustling about, a smile appearing on his face.
Those hardships before hadn't been in vain, and his rising blood pressure hadn't been for nothing!
He couldn't help but recall the days when he had traveled with his three old friends. It had been just like this—Godric would light the fire, Helga would cook, and Rowena would handle the lodging.
And what had Salazar been doing? He hadn't been without contribution. He had earned their travel expenses—after all, a potion master was always in demand.
"We still need to fetch some water," Daphne said after setting up the tent, looking at the empty kettle.
Rhys fell silent.
Going to fetch water from a tap right in front of him was nothing short of an insult!
Rhys snatched the kettle and stood still. Clear spring water began to fill it on its own.
In less than a minute, they had a full kettle, and the quality of the water far surpassed the campsite's supply.
"We're wizards, Daphne!" Rhys said in a tone of exasperation.
The kettle was set on the stove, and sausages were placed by the fire to roast.
By the time the tea was ready and the sausages began to release their aroma, the mysterious "Wezley" family finally appeared.
"Harry, Ron?" Seeing the familiar faces before him, Rhys immediately understood what "Wezley" was about.
"Morning! Didn't expect to run into you here—what a coincidence," Harry said, clearly delighted to see Rhys and the Greengrass sisters.
Upon spotting Daphne and Astoria, Fred and George, standing behind Arthur, also brightened—they knew these two were wealthy patrons.
While Mr. Weasley struggled to set up the tent, the twins grinned and approached. However, they didn't directly strike up a conversation with Daphne and Astoria. Instead, they began chatting with Rhys first.
"We've come up with some new inventions recently." Fred grinned as he stuffed a piece of toffee into Rhys's hand.
"Oh? Food-based magic?" Rhys's interest was instantly piqued.
"Yeah, want to give it a try?" George winked at him.
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12 Chaps ahead at Patreon.com/HornyFBI