The next day in the ancient rune class, Felix was surprised to see the trio distracted and absent-minded, so he wondered if he was putting too much pressure on them, and at the end of class, he deliberately said a few words of comfort.
In the evening, he received a letter from an owl.
He opened the letter, on which a faint scent of men’s perfume still lingered, and it was from the head of the British Ministry of Magic’s Werewolf Registry –
”Hello, Mr. Hap.
As of the end of the tenth month of this year (the beginning of November), the number of werewolves in Britain registered in the Werewolf Registry has increased by 20% compared to last year, and the whole ministry is excited! Thanks to the outstanding contribution of Mr. Belby and Professor Snape, I dare to guarantee that the werewolves in Britain will be effectively controlled within ten years at the latest, and I will submit a report to Wizengamot to apply for an Order of Merlin to Professor Snape at that time …
Regarding the unrest at the Quidditch World Cup – the Ministry of Magic’s definition for that aggression is unrest, most of those masked wizards are from pureblood families and what they are doing is simply a disgrace to all of us. But I can assure you that my family and I would never be like those people.
Two of the masked wizards, sentenced to three to six months imprisonment in Azkaban, each acknowledged being the masterminds of the incident – with one initiating a parade through the camp after a bout of drunkenness, and one waking up poor Muggle Robert’s family by less gentle means… …
…
The other participants got fined significant sums of money, but due to some political Obstruction, their names got hidden, and I know no more than you can obtain from the newspapers, just the names of the two masterminds – Amycus Carrow and Walden Macnair.’
Felix calmly closed the letter.
Over the next two days, owls flew in from all over the world, first from Britain itself, then from France, Europe, and finally from other continents.
Felix opened a second letter, this one from St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, where Felix had previously spent some time training a group of healers, including this young healer –
‘Greetings, Dear Mr. Hap!
This is the fifth correspondence between us, and I thank you for not laughing at my silly questions and generously answering them.
Several patients with memory damage, who were judged to be incurable, have mostly regained their sanity and now can live independently. Five of them have been brought back by their families to recuperate and only needed to come once a week. The other two, who were critically ill, still need to be kept in the hospital for observation. Please forgive us for our limited ability and the inability to ever reach the level of recovery of the Longbottoms.
Regarding the matter you inquired about – the matter is true. Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Sr. suffered severe penetrating traumas, but both families have kept it a secret, and they have used their connections to hire an old retired healer to treat them. What they don’t know is that this healer incidentally is my uncle, the relationship which I do not want to acknowledge in front of others – my uncle was originally very skilled, but he is an alcoholic, one time when mixing potions by mistake he mistook mandrake for ginger root, you just can’t imagine what happened to the lady who came to treat scabies on her face that day! … Anyway, he left the hospital in disgrace because of this incident, along with the scratch marks on his neck from the patient who experienced a sudden panic attack.
I have enclosed a copy of the diagnosis I got from my uncle in exchange for two pints of pure malt whiskey! That old horse trough!
Again, I wish you a good life and smooth progress in your work.
Also, I became good friends with your portrait in the hospital, and I asked one of my artist patients to paint a candy house on it, which he liked very much!
Plus, I have collected your newspaper clippings from the Quidditch World Cup, and they are on my desk.’
The third letter came from the Ministry of Magic, unsigned, just a long list of three dozen names, which Felix opened and looked over carefully, as he memorized the names with a mocking smile on his face.
The fourth letter is a reply from Damocles Belby, his handwriting is rather scribbled, and the envelope still smells of potions –
‘Felix.
If you hadn’t reminded me, I might have overlooked the problem of Wolfsbane Potion, forgive me I’ve been focusing on other potions recently …
After your reminder, I purposely went to the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers to inquire about it, the current sales of wolfsbane potions authorized by the Ministry of Magic are stable, and the Ministry of Magic has recruited a group of werewolves to work, all of them are some dirty work, but it is certainly better than their past work… There are still a considerable number of stubborn werewolves living in the wilderness, no one knows the exact location of these werewolves, even the werewolves are not sure of their own location, they may be in England today and will be in France tomorrow …
I learned that other European countries have approached the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers, hoping to connect them and convince the British Ministry of Magic to share the recipe of the wolfsbane potion, especially the improved version made by Severus and me. Fudge has been occupied with this matter all this time, and he can’t be seen throughout the day – all this was told to me by the vice leader of the Potioneers’ Society, presently these are unknown to the public.
There is one more thing worth sharing.
I met my old head, Professor Slughorn while visiting the vice leader of the society. He still enjoys life so well that I politely advised him to eat less candy and sweets, but he told me it was the greatest pleasure of his life.’
The fifth letter came from Maxwell Cowpert an Auror from France.
He and Felix had crossed paths during the previous summer when there was a bit of a misunderstanding, but the two got on good terms after the misunderstanding was cleared up.
‘Dear Felix Hap.
I’m glad you wrote to me.
If you want to know about law and order on this side of France, as a front-line Auror; All I can say is those same old stories about… those shady corners, I can’t figure out why you are interested in these, are you going to write a book?
To be honest, I didn’t take your first few muggle books seriously when the Ministry distributed them, as I just casually stuffed them into my locker. Which I just recently discovered when I was cleaning up a bag of pet food that had rotted inside. Incidentally, I discovered your book, which also solved one of my confusions. The next day, when my nephew reported a suspicious person to me at the Muggle University in France, I thought it was related to you and mistook a certain dark wizard for you. …
Back to the topic. The werewolves in France are fairly peaceful and have no plans to migrate – which I rather look forward to. Of course, not necessarily to the UK, the south or north is good too (don’t publish the contents of this letter, or it will get me in trouble). I told my informant to wait and see until they do something suspicious, so I can close the net once and for all, and maybe when we meet again, I will be the head of Auror’s office.
Also, my nephew, Calamy, chose to become an Auror. Now he is currently learning the ropes under me, and he was peeking over as I wrote this letter and got kicked out.
Finally, a cool picture from the Quidditch World Cup.”
The fifth letter came from the head of the Department of Muggle Affairs under the Swiss Ministry of Magic –
“Felix, it is good to hear from you, your last suggestion was very constructive, and I submitted it with slight modifications. It’s working well so far, and I’m wondering what else you have in your head …
I saw the photo published in the Daily Prophet newspaper and couldn’t believe that such a vicious incident had happened at the World Cup, something that would have never happened if it had been left to us.
Regarding your question, I learned from my colleague that that tribe of giants is still peacefully secluded in the deep mountains, with no signs of moving out. Of course, I can’t be 100% sure – if observers get too close, the giants will come dashing towards them while throwing rocks.
I’ve attached the location of the giant tribe, be careful if you plan to explore the mountains.’
While Felix was having breakfast on Friday morning, he received his sixth letter. It came from Lucius Malfoy, and this letter was most brief, without a beginning or an end, with only a time and a place.
‘Meet at the top of the tallest mountain outside Hogwarts on Friday, November 4, at eleven o’clock in the evening.’
He casually erased the writing on it and spread a layer of jam on his bread, he still had a day of classes to attend today.
———–
Thanks for all your support.
There are 423+ chapters on P_atreon, if you have some extra pocket money, Support me on Pa_treon: www.pa_treon.com/Crazy_Cat.
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter