A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 617 I don't know where he ran off to.
As the days passed, the lingering warmth of summer quietly dissipated, and a rainstorm signaled the official end of the drought in southeast England and the summer holidays at Hogwarts.

Platform 9¾ at King's Cross Station was bustling again, with billowing white steam filling the air above the platform. New and returning students, carrying their luggage, boarded the Hogwarts Express with excitement or trepidation.

"Harry!" A slightly overweight figure pushed through the crowd in the aisle and squeezed into the compartment where Harry, Ron, and Hermione were.

Neville seemed to have gained some weight during the holidays. His round face showed a mixture of curiosity and worry as he whispered to Harry, "I heard you were locked up in Azkaban and sleeping in the same room as the Dementors?"

He learned of this astonishing news from his father, Frank, and found it hard to believe, so he came to ask.

The carriage quickly became lively as Dean, Seamus, and several other Gryffindor and Hufflepuff classmates curiously squeezed in, making the small compartment feel rather crowded.

Harry sleeping in a room with Dementors in Azkaban is just one of the more normal rumors surrounding him. Seamus heard that he also had to do the Dementors' laundry, and Cedric came over to ask him if he had changed the baby Dementors' diapers...

Everyone wanted to see for themselves this classmate who had entered the infamous Azkaban and returned safely; Pippi Ghost had no idea where all these strange tales came from.

“I thought the first one in our class would definitely be Seamus,” Neville said seriously, with a hint of self-righteousness in his tone, “like when he accidentally blows up someone’s valuables and can’t afford to pay for it.”

Dean and many others nodded silently in agreement, clearly indicating that they all understood.

Just then, a drawn-out voice, accompanied by footsteps, passed by the carriage door.

Draco Malfoy was strolling along slowly with his two tall henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle.

His eyes caught sight of Harry, who was surrounded in the cubicle, and he habitually smirked, as if he was about to say something sarcastic.

However, when he saw that there were many people inside, especially Seamus and Cedric, he hesitated.

Malfoy weighed the numbers and realized that his side was at a disadvantage in terms of numbers.

He glanced at the prefect's badge on his chest, but he wasn't alone here; there were at least two prefects in the cubicle, not to mention Cedric might be the student council president, which put him at a disadvantage.

After weighing the pros and cons, Malfoy ultimately decided to wait and find an opportunity later, so as not to suffer a great loss later.

So he snorted coldly, raised his head, and continued walking forward with his two followers, preparing to cause trouble for some lower-grade students.

Harry glanced at Malfoy and the others as they left, unsurprised by their questions, having anticipated this outcome.

Once everyone had quieted down a bit, he calmly recounted the whole story.

From his use of magic for self-defense outside of school, to the Ministry of Magic's summoning owl failing to find him, to Umbridge's appearance and his journey to Azkaban without trial.

“In the end, it was all that woman Umbridge’s doing,” he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to make sure only the person in the cubicle could hear him, “If it weren’t for her interference, I could have just written a self-criticism and been done with it, instead of spending so many days in Azkaban.”

Seamus frowned, puzzled, and asked, "Have you ever offended her before, Harry?"

Why is she targeting you like this?

Neville immediately chimed in, a hint of distress on his face, "I've also heard my father say that Umbridge is notoriously petty and vengeful in the Ministry of Magic. Many people have inexplicably fallen out of her hands because of her. She seems to particularly dislike those she deems 'restless'."

Harry shook his head, his tone tinged with helplessness, and said, "To be honest, before I was taken to Azkaban this time, I didn't even know that there was such a person as Umbridge in the Ministry of Magic."

He paused, lowered his voice even further, and said in a tone of sharing a secret, "However, I also heard... she's coming to Hogwarts this school year, apparently as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Neville nodded vigorously, confirming, "That's right, my dad said the same thing."

"I heard that someone in the department wanted her to make room for someone else, and since Hogwarts needed a new professor, they sent her over." Everyone was engrossed in their conversation about Umbridge and the upcoming new school year when a figure appeared at the door. It was Rolf Scamander, Newt Scamander's grandson.

He poked his head in, asking politely, "Excuse me, is Charles Smith here? I've searched the whole train but haven't found him."

Rolf's voice was gentle, and his eyes searched the cubicle.

Harry looked up, unsurprised by the question.

He shook his head and replied, "Charles isn't here."

"I guess he probably missed the train again this year because of some other important matter."

His tone carried a hint of nonchalance.

A hint of disappointment flashed across Rove's face as he said, "I see... My grandfather has a letter to give him, it's quite important."

He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more. His gaze swept over everyone, and finally he added, "I heard my grandfather mention that the work at the Magic Research Institute seems to have sped up recently, and the progress is quite fast."

As he said this, he glanced at Hermione almost casually and quickly.

Hermione was deep in thought, seemingly unaware of Ralph's gaze.

She looked up and said thoughtfully, "Charles mentioned the Magic Research Institute to me a few times before. It sounds like a very impressive project. He said that it gathers many top wizards to do cutting-edge research."

Her tone carried a hint of interest.

The other passengers in the carriage exchanged glances, all agreeing that this "research institute" sounded incredibly prestigious.

The affairs of the Ministry of Magic's higher-ups were quite distant from the students' lives, making the topic suddenly seem rather profound and mysterious.

Only Ron, sitting next to Hermione, leaned close to her ear and whispered mischievously in a voice barely audible to the two of them: "Maybe that research institute was built by him for you."

His words were half-joking and half-sour.

Just then, the witch pushing the snack cart arrived at the door of their carriage.

"Would you like to buy something?" she said cheerfully. "Oh, Miss Granger is here. Your car will be here shortly."

After a while, the car arrived.

The mountain of Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Bubblegum Bubble Gum, and Pumpkin Pie on the little truck immediately caught everyone's attention. The truck was instantly filled with the rustling of wrappers and excited discussions, and no one could hear what Ron had just said.

Harry looked at Hermione, his gaze sweeping over the colorful packaging, and whispered to Ron, "It's Charles buying it for Hermione again, just like last time. He'll pay the cart witch in advance."

"I don't know where he's busy this time, he can't even take care of the start of school."

Meanwhile, far away in London, on a secluded embankment along the Thames.

Charles felt his Occlumency block a chant that could have caused a sneeze, and he looked at the thin, pale man in front of him with a frustrated expression—Voldemort.

(End of this chapter)