"You really know how to talk," Howl chuckled, then took the letter Dumbledore handed him.
"Dear Mr. Howl Jenkins, according to Ministry of Magic regulations, you are invited to attend the retrial of the [1 Elizabeth Warren Hogwarts Death Case]. This case will open on the first Wednesday of January, at which time you will be invited to attend as a witness for the defendant Rubeus Hagrid. Your presence is mandatory—Law of Magic Enforcement Department, British Ministry of Magic."
"So."
Howl put down the letter: "What does this have to do with me?"
"Besides me, there's only you. My statements cannot be used as evidence, nor can I attend as a witness," Dumbledore said.
"However, I will attend as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot," he added.
"Looks like I'll be quite busy," Howl said. "I don't even know what happened fifty years ago."
"That's precisely the problem, isn't it? After all, for Fudge, we are pushing the blame onto a dead man."
"So…" Howl suddenly turned to Dumbledore: "You want to use this opportunity to prove to them that Riddle will return?"
Dumbledore nodded in agreement.
"You know this will have little effect. The current peace is hard-won. Peace is what they crave, and it's a comfort zone they are unwilling to leave."
"As long as it can plant seeds in some people, that's good," Dumbledore said. "Even if it's just one, even if only one or two people are willing to believe Lord Voldemort is about to return and prepare for it, it might save a few lives in the future."
After speaking, he shook his head again, skillfully and precisely tossing a chocolate frog into his mouth.
"Look at this old fool, what nonsense I'm saying. Well, actually, I simply just want to clear Hagrid's name."
Howl looked back at him, gazing for a moment.
"What's wrong?"
"I said two years ago that I held pity for every fellow called 'great'," Howl said.
"Indeed, that title carries too much burden," Dumbledore nodded, seemingly in agreement.
"I retract that pity!" Howl said. "You will sooner or later cast yourself into an abyss. It's like falling straight down from here, eventually dying beyond all death."
Dumbledore froze for a moment, then tossed another chocolate frog into his mouth: "If I can serve as a cushion to catch others, so they don't fall to their deaths, it seems like a good ending too. Old fellows always have a time to exit the stage, don't they?"
"Whatever you say," Howl put on his hat and got up to leave.
"Where are you going?"
"To see Hagrid," Howl said, his figure disappearing behind the curtains.
Next to the Forbidden Forest, Hagrid's hut.
At this moment, Hagrid had just emerged from the Forbidden Forest. As soon as he saw Howl, he waved his thick arms cheerily: "Howl, you're back! Where are you off to?"
"I came to find you," Howl said.
"Find me? For what?" Hagrid was startled for a moment, then reacted: "Oh, my goodness, is it… is it that matter?"
His voice trembled with excitement, shaking off the snowflakes from his beard.
"What matter?" Howl looked at Hagrid: "If you're talking about the case, yes, that's why I'm here."
No sooner had he spoken than Hagrid strode over with lightning speed.
What approached first was the pungent smell of some unknown animal from Hagrid's clothes.
However, seeing Hagrid's posture, his raised hand suddenly froze. Just as he was about to use words to calm Hagrid down, he was met with a bear hug strong enough to break a normal person's spine.
"Thank you, Howl, really thank you—"
"Fudge, Hagrid, I'm counting to three…" Howl's forehead was lined with black, and he gritted his teeth.
"Oh, I'm so sorry…" Hagrid quickly put Howl down, his face embarrassed.
After putting him down, he reached out a finger, thoughtfully wanting to smooth the hair on Howl's head.
Howl resisted the urge to swat it away and grabbed his thick, tree-like wrist.
"Hagrid, thanks, but… I'll do it myself."
"Okay." Hagrid quickly retracted his hand, showing an awkward yet polite smile.
"Aren't you going to invite me in for a sit?" Howl thought it best to change the subject first.
"Oh, of course!" Hagrid nodded quickly and led Howl into the hut.
On the stone mantelpiece above the fireplace, a kettle sat, drawing heat from the vigorous fire, keeping its contents steaming.
Hagrid took out two cups, then suddenly thought they looked a bit dirty, and quickly turned back to rummage through the cluttered kitchen.
It was called a kitchen, but it was really just an open small counter, piled with various sundries.
"No need to search, Hagrid," Howl said. "Anything is fine with me."
"Oh, okay." Hagrid laughed heartily as if relieved, not bothering to hide it: "I thought you'd mind."
"Not at all," Howl said.
"I just might have slightly higher standards for clothing and appearance…" Howl said, also unconcerned: "Hmm, as for superficial efforts, I don't mind either, it's a habit, haha.
As for things to eat? My stomach is protected by magic, it can eat all the delicacies in this world."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Hagrid brought out a plate of rock cakes.
Howl, at Hagrid's invitation, tried a piece, and could only say… it lived up to its name.
Alright, alright, so this is how we're playing.
Hagrid sat down, then suddenly thanked him again: "Thank you, Howl, truly!"
"It seems this matter has become your obsession?" Howl was a little surprised. With the help of the rock cakes, he became much more talkative.
"I… I've carried the title of murderer for fifty years," Hagrid said with a bitter smile.
"Yes, Howl, I know what you're going to say. You're going to say that not many people know about this anymore.
But… oh, my, after all these years, it has become a given fact. Don't laugh, I… I've never dared to visit my father's grave.
If he's in heaven and knows his son is a murderer, how disappointed he must be. Would he think I'm like my mother? Would he curse me in his heart?"
Howl didn't know if it was because the simple Hagrid was too quick to open up to others, or because his presence as a witness to clear his name had earned him his goodwill.
In any case, a sentence echoed in his mind…
No parent in the world would willingly raise a murderer.
Oh, yes, at this time, one only needs to lightly say that the clear will clear themselves.
But, is that really the case?
"Were you… placed here by Dumbledore after the incident happened?"
"Yes, as soon as I was expelled, Dumbledore arranged for me to work at the school.
Dumbledore is the best person in the world. Back then, he was busy fighting Grindelwald, for this world! And he was still willing to waste time on a small fry like me."
As he spoke, the sixty-year-old giant began to sob softly.
"Don't laugh at me, actually, during that time, when I was still very young, I actually didn't like Dumbledore's decision," Hagrid said, crying and laughing, with a hint of self-deprecation.
"Why?" Howl leaned back in the wooden chair.
"Because it was just… just… just the day before, I was still classmates with them, and the next day, I became the school handyman… and a murderer.
They covered my door with paint, writing things like 'Murderer, go die!' 'Beast!' 'Scum!' and so on, haha."
As he spoke, he laughed with relief.
My lords, I apologize… it was supposed to be a long chapter, but I almost fainted, and I haven't recovered yet.
It's winter, everyone, keep your air conditioners on, and be sure to ventilate in confined spaces, don't be foolish like me.
Also, the Greece chapter a few days ago wasn't done well, I disappointed everyone…
And then I'll offer a seedling novel to the lords, hehe (cautiously).
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