In the evening, on the second floor of the Pigs Head Bar.
Inside the iron cage, Nagini's tongue constantly flickered out, catching scent molecules in the air.
Her large head continuously turned, observing her surroundings with curiosity and vigilance.
However, the next moment, she began to twitch as if struck by a sudden illness.
Her body gradually swelled, her scales disappeared, and her tail began to differentiate into two legs.
She was undergoing a transformation similar to an Animagus.
However, this transformation was not completed; she twitched and writhed, as if suffering from bone-chilling pain within her body.
Clang—
In the quiet room, her head violently hit the cage due to the endless twitching.
The transformation stopped abruptly and quickly receded.
In the blink of an eye, she reverted to her snake form.
"Now, it's your turn to perform," Howl said, stepping aside slightly.
Dumbledore stepped forward, gripping his elder wand with a serious expression.
"I acknowledge the importance of memory and experience in the formation of personality, but in terms of the soul..." Howl stroked his beard, his thoughts tinged with a sigh.
"A 'I am not I' topic, like the Ship of Theseus?" Dumbledore smiled, raising his wand and gradually aiming it at Nagini, who was staring at him warily.
By this day, Nagini's unique and distorted soul had been forcibly twisted by Howl, much like sheet metal work.
However, such an action, while seemingly unproblematic, had already caused Nagini's body to start experiencing issues.
It kept her in an unstable state between human and snake.
Simply put, she couldn't distinguish—she couldn't distinguish what she was supposed to be.
According to the plan set at the beginning, Dumbledore needed to step in to help.
After Dumbledore took over the work, he gave Nagini a deep look, then pulled out a handkerchief, wiped his hands, and slowly left the second floor.
On the first floor, another guest was waiting for him.
Rita Skeeter.
On the first floor, the pub hall on a weekend should have been bustling, but at this moment, the Pigs Head Bar seemed somewhat deserted.
The regulars who often came here to relax most enjoyed the Pigs Head Bar's recklessness; the darkness that enveloped them here was like the best cloak for these scoundrel patrons—if it weren't for the Wizarding World's notoriously big-mouthed, flamboyant Rita Skeeter being here.
No one wanted to continue chatting freely in the same room as such a person.
She always pursed her lips, scrutinizing everything in the shop with a frown.
Gradually, the number of patrons here dwindled significantly.
Albus was very displeased about this, but Rita stated that she could completely pay for those guys' drinks—and pay for all her own consumption at ten times the price.
She just needed to be allowed to stay here and wait here.
Walking down the stairs, he immediately saw Rita sitting in the corner, along with a figure beside her dressed in a black robe, their face hidden beneath a wide hood.
As soon as he came down, Rita and that person stood up, both nodding slightly in his direction.
Howl walked over and saw who was under the hood.
Rufus Scrimgeour.
"What are you doing here?" Howl asked in surprise.
"I'm here to ask about your plans for the Ministry of Magic," Rufus quickly said.
Howl glanced at him: "I have no ideas, Scrimgeour. Fudge is much harder to overthrow than you or I imagined, and there's still quite some time until the next Minister for Magic election.
All you can do now is cooperate fully with that judge; at least you can reduce Fudge's power, and that's it."
"I..."
Scrimgeour was a bit embarrassed: "I thought so too, but the Law of Magic Enforcement Department refused me. Bones doesn't trust me; to be precise, she doesn't trust anyone now. Recently, many people have been transferred out of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
She publicly stated that she is a judge, and anyone who makes a mistake should be tried—even Merlin is no exception!
Perhaps I can quote something Skeeter once said: she's gone mad!"
"Tsk tsk," Howl said, somewhat surprised to hear this news.
She suddenly perked up.
However, what Howl didn't know was that he had underestimated the questions he had posed to Bones during the trial.
As a legal professional, she utterly detested being called a politician!
"In that case, the only thing you can do is control the public opinion," Howl said with a smile, his gaze falling upon Rita Skeeter.
"Ms. Skeeter, long time no see."
"Mmm mmm—" Rita Skeeter responded softly, nodding profusely.
At the same time, her flashy, crystal-studded Quick-Quotes Quill rapidly wrote on a piece of parchment on the table.
"Long time no see, it's a pleasure to see you, Mr. Jones."
During this time, Rita Skeeter had used this pen and this paper for all her conversations.
"Indeed, long time no see," Howl nodded. "It seems I think you have learned a sufficiently profound lesson from your bold and foolish actions."
With that, his palm swept through the air, and the next moment, Rita's throat suddenly became unbearably itchy.
A moment later, she tried to cough twice.
"Cough—cough cough! Woof—I—good evening—"
Under Scrimgeour's puzzled gaze, Rita's face suddenly lit up with surprise, flushed with excitement.
"Mr. Jones, thank you! Thank you!" The first thing she did when she spoke was to hastily thank Howl.
To prevent herself from making foolish decisions in extreme joy or sorrow that would lead to the situation escalating, she had prepared hundreds of "scripts" for herself.
Howl did not respond to Rita's thanks.
Her tragedy was born because of him; no kind words could conceal the bloody facts that occurred behind it.
It was like flowers adorning a scabbard, too hypocritical.
Howl simply turned and asked:
"I left too hastily last time, but I've always been curious about one question! Who was it that instigated you to write that report?"
"I—" Rita was silent for a moment.
"Actually, you've never actively mentioned this, have you? I believe you wouldn't be so foolish as to try to gain popularity by dragging Hogwarts into things for no reason.
In my estimation, if someone like you wanted to criticize Hogwarts, it would at least be after Dumbledore's death!"
Saying that, Howl leaned forward slightly: "Who instigated that very first report?"
Skeeter glanced at Scrimgeour, who was present here.
"Rita, oh Rita," Howl leaned back in his chair, his tone leisurely, his eyes full of interest.
"Do you know who will be the first to go to hell in a conflict?"
"I don't know, sir," Rita quickly said.
"The first to die are always those who want to play both sides, those who constantly waver like fence-sitters. They all think they are very smart and will only make the right choices—in reality, everyone wants to eliminate such people first."
Cold sweat dripped down Rita's forehead.
"Sir, it was Minister Fudge and some families who instigated me!" she quickly said, her words rapid and clear.
"Besides the Minister, they mostly sent me letters as parents, including the Malfoy family, the Flint family, the Farley family, and so on!"
...
"Tsk," Howl shook his head. "No wonder he ran so fast. Ah, I remember now, your report after Marcus was injured..."
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