Hogwarts.
The Headmaster's Office on the eighth floor.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was sitting in his headmaster's chair.
Sitting opposite him was Frank Mitchell, this year's new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, a seventy-year-old retired Auror.
"Frank, I just received a very interesting piece of news," Dumbledore took a Fizzing Whizzbee from his beloved candy box and popped it into his mouth. "Four Thestral carriages were attacked by fire dragons."
Frank shook his head, admonishing, "Professor Dumbledore, you were already addicted to sweets back when you taught me Transfiguration. It's not good for your health!"
Dumbledore laughed. "Sweet candy is a tonic! Look, I'm already one hundred and five years old. There aren't many people who can live longer than me."
Frank shrugged.
Alright, this hundred-year-old man's body looked sturdier than his own.
"Returning to our topic, Frank," Dumbledore flicked a piece of parchment, which flew lazily over to Frank and hovered there. "What do you make of this?"
Frank scanned the contents of the parchment, ten lines at a time, and complained, "Professor, if I were still on active duty, your blatant acquisition of confidential Ministry information would have earned you an invitation to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for coffee."
"Hahaha, why worry about that? It's just that one of my students found this news interesting and shared it with me at the first opportunity."
Frank smiled. As long as the old man was happy.
He began, "An event like a fire dragon attacking a Thestral carriage has only happened once in history."
Dumbledore nodded. "Of course, I know about that. Back in 1890, when the goblin Ranrok was plotting a rebellion." He looked out the window. "I was only nine at the time. The upper-year student who resolved that crisis had already graduated by the time I enrolled at Hogwarts. It's truly a pity I never got to meet her." (Plot from Hogwarts Legacy)
Frank ignored the old man's "back in my day" moment and continued, "My point is, the probability of a fire dragon attacking a carriage is extremely low. The only time in history was also said to be deliberate."
Dumbledore followed his line of thought. "You mean, this time, with four carriages attacked simultaneously in four different places, it wasn't an accident."
"Yes, someone must have planned this incident. This is a crime," Frank was very certain. "The only thing I can't figure out is, directing a fire dragon to attack a specific target is extremely difficult. What was the criminal's motive? What is worth the criminal going to such great lengths? Once a Thestral carriage flies into the clouds, ordinary people can't find them!"
Dumbledore asked, "Then is there a possibility that the one attacking the carriages wasn't a fire dragon, but a person?"
"A person?"
Frank burst out laughing. "Professor Dumbledore, you must be joking. In the wizarding world today, besides yourself, who else could shoot down a Thestral carriage above the clouds and still cause damage like a dragon's breath?"
"I'll thank you for the compliment first, Frank," Dumbledore adjusted his glasses. "Did you not notice that these four carriages have one thing in common?"
"They were all chartered by the Gray family?"
"Correct. As far as I know, the Gray family is a vassal family of the Lestranges. Recently, they've been in a nasty dispute with the young mistress of the Lestrange family. Do you think it's possible the little girl did it?"
"Impossible, absolutely impossible!" Frank felt that his teacher might really be getting on in years, his mind no longer clear.
"I know about that little girl. She's currently wanted by the Ministry for killing two members of the Gray family. As a Squib, it's already a miracle that she could kill two adult wizards. Thestral carriages? That's absolutely imposs..."
He stopped. Looking at Dumbledore's half-smiling expression, Frank even wondered if he was hallucinating.
"Do you... really think that little Squib is the one who shot down the Thestral carriages?"
Dumbledore removed his glasses, placed them on the desk, and then leaned back in his chair, saying with an air of aged wisdom, "Who can say for sure? I just feel that she is the person in the world with the strongest motive."
He, the old man, had his own accurate sources of information.
That house-elf named Momo was quite interesting. But of course, the most interesting one was a certain little monster who had been dispersing magic into her own body since birth.
Oh, and the little monster's cousin was also his informant. With just a little guidance, she had spilled everything about her younger cousin.
This was attention from the White Wizard...
Today's conversation with Frank had disappointed Dumbledore somewhat. He had hoped the old Auror might offer some real insights, but it was a pity.
Frank left the headmaster's office, shaking his head. He truly felt that Dumbledore was old, and he wondered how much longer the man could live.
But what he didn't know was that in June of the following year, he would fall down a flight of stairs and break his neck...
...
...
Hydrus appeared in a small alley near the Leaky Cauldron.
She was wearing newly bought Muggle clothes—a cute little dress.
When she walked out of the alley, she had a head of thick, bushy brown hair. Yes, she had stolen Hermione's face.
Only her front teeth remained her own.
It was noon, past lunchtime, and there were almost no customers in the Leaky Cauldron.
Old Tom sat behind the bar, his head bobbing, looking as if he could fall asleep at any moment.
The dirty, greasy pub truly didn't make a good impression.
Most houses in the wizarding world had a fireplace, a node on the Floo Network.
Sometimes Hydrus didn't understand. With so many methods of travel like Floo Powder and Apparition, why did pure-blood families still prefer to use Thestral carriages to transport their assets?
Was it for show? Or for security?
It was baffling.
She had intended to look away, but a wanted poster caught her attention.
The wanted poster was posted conspicuously above the fireplace.
Alright, it was Hydrus's own wanted poster.
In the poster, her expression was exaggerated, periodically making a lion's-roar pose. She looked like a madwoman.
'What is this? I am clearly a gentle and quiet young lady!'
"Proprietor!" Hydrus knocked on the bar, startling Old Tom awake. "Oh, welcome!"
He shook his head. "A young witch?"
"Hasn't school already started?"
As a child of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, lying naturally and without artifice was practically a required course. Hydrus, of course, launched right into it: "I was brewing a potion and accidentally destroyed my wand and my cauldron, so..."
Hydrus's secret weapon: doe eyes!
｡◕ᴗ◕｡
"Oh, you poor child. How could you be so careless?"
"Come, come, I'll open the passage to Diagon Alley for you!"
They went to the small courtyard behind the pub.
"You've definitely been here before, so I won't go over how to open the door," Old Tom said. "Happy shopping!"
"Thank you, Mr. Tom," Hydrus curtsied slightly. "If you could, would you be able to prepare a small cask of butterbeer for me? My upper-year schoolmates would love a little gift like that."
Hydrus took out a Golden Galleon and handed it to Old Tom.
"Of course, of course I can! Just come find me when you're back!"
Hydrus nodded and was about to step into Diagon Alley.
The sound of loud leather boots came from behind her. A woman with a serious, anxious expression hurried over, the fireplace ash not even cleaned off her. She was clutching an empty wooden box and rushed past Hydrus into Diagon Alley.
'Is that...
Selenis Gray?
She's holding an empty box. Is she going to Gringotts to withdraw money?
Interesting!
Today is truly a lucky day!'
A cute, devilish smile appeared on Hydrus's face.
[Reviews - Power St0nes - Comments are highly appreciated to keep me going.....(+50 chapters) patre0n.c0m/talecrafter]