A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 631 Who is it?
"Is something wrong?"

Charles stopped painting and turned to look at Harry.

From the start of dinner, he noticed that Harry always seemed to want to say something but hesitated, his eyes darting around. After dinner, he followed Harry to the Oil Painting Society's activity room, but Harry remained silent for a long time.

Harry paused, seemingly struggling internally, before finally hesitantly asking, "Has Mr. Smith returned to England recently?"

He felt that certain matters were too sensitive and private to be discussed with Mr. Jack Smith, and that it was best for Charles not to know.

Charles misunderstood him, thinking that Harry was worried about his pay for working at 3 Privet Drive this summer.

He picked up his paintbrush and sketched Hatsune Miku's emerald green hair on the canvas, while casually comforting her, "You're worried about your summer job pay, right? Don't worry, you won't be shortchanged. You can settle it all next year."

Harry had no choice but to nod and accept the misunderstanding, though he was secretly anxious.

To ease the slightly awkward atmosphere, he changed the subject to a lighter topic: "This afternoon, the selection for the new Quidditch goalkeeper for Gryffindor concluded. Guess who was chosen?"

Charles continued writing, half-jokingly saying, "You're not going to tell me about that person, Hermione, are you?"

He noticed a change in Hermione's attitude toward sports this summer. Although he felt that the possibility of her joining the Quidditch team was extremely small, it was not entirely impossible.

Harry laughed upon hearing this, shaking his head in denial: "How could it be Hermione? She's never been able to handle flying brooms. Ron is the one who should be chosen."

Charles simply nodded to indicate that he understood.

He recalled how Hermione managed to barely lift the broom off the ground during flying class, and how the Firebolt flew as smoothly and slowly as a bicycle in her hands, to the point that Harry thought the broom was broken.

Harry stood to the side, watching Charles paint with curiosity, and the two chatted idly.

"Oh, Harry, you really are here."

Neville's voice came from the doorway. He had beads of sweat on his forehead, probably having searched quite a bit of the castle before finally finding his way here.

Harry turned to Neville and asked, "Is something wrong?"

Neville cautiously looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to the corner before lowering his voice and saying, "Tomorrow is Hogsmeade Week, and my father would like to have a chat with you."

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

Mr. Frank Longbottom is in charge of investigating the Snape family bombing, and he himself recently let slip that he knew the inside story.

This meeting was probably for this very reason; it couldn't possibly be about asking me to introduce Neville to a girlfriend.

A wave of panic washed over him, but he managed to maintain his composure on the surface.

"Uh... okay." He finally agreed.

He pondered to himself that if he cooperated, he might be able to get away with it. But if he kept making excuses, and it alerted Professor Dumbledore, then he would be in big trouble.

He looked at Charles expectantly, and asked in a pleading tone, "Charles, are you free tomorrow? Can we go together?"

He thought that with Charles present to support him, he might not let too much slip up. However, Charles's gaze remained fixed on the canvas, and he simply replied, "Tomorrow won't work. There's an important technical meeting at Farbatton Castle that I must attend."

At this moment, Charles's mind had already wandered elsewhere.

Outside the school, various forces are stirring up trouble, and affairs are complicated; inside the school, there is a mysterious and scheming Umbridge, making the situation even more unpredictable.

He felt an invisible pressure and decided to put these distractions aside for the time being and focus on completing the test version of the magic model first.

He even had a vague feeling that Umbridge's overly "friendly" attitude towards him was very likely related to the enormous destruction caused by his magical outburst.

Seeing this, Harry had no choice but to leave the painting society in a huff, pondering all the way how he should deal with Mr. Longbottom's questioning on his own the next day.

The next day was Hogsmeade Week, and the bright sunshine was blocked by clouds, with only occasional beams of light peeking through the gaps.

Many students received pocket money at the start of the school year and are now excitedly flocking in groups of three or five to various magical shops such as Honey Duke Candy Shop, Zoko Joke Shop, and Wenrenju Quill Shop. Couples are also going to their own places, and the air is filled with laughter.

Inside the newly rebuilt Dancing Grass restaurant, in a private box bearing the Longbottom family crest, Frank Longbottom warmly greeted the somewhat reserved Harry and invited him to sample his homemade scones.

Harry nervously picked up a warm scone that smelled of butter, took a small bite, and found the crispy crust and soft interior, combined with the buttery and slightly sweet flavor, to be quite delicious, which eased his tense nerves a little.

Frank smiled, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes, and said, "This was specially baked by my mother. Your father, James, used to love it. He was even willing to do my holiday homework for me so that I could have it. In reality, he would just copy Lupin's homework."

Upon hearing this, Harry couldn't help but grin.

Frank then enthusiastically recounted many amusing anecdotes about James Potter's time at Hogwarts, such as how he would bully Snape with Black on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and how he would bully Snape with Black on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.

These mischievous pranks, brimming with youthful spirit, captivated Harry, making even the scones made by Madam Longbottom seem sweeter.

Suddenly, Frank changed the subject, his smile vanished, and his expression became serious and earnest.

He put down his teacup, stared sharply at Harry, and cut straight to the point, asking, "Harry, I heard you know something about the Snape family bombing?"

Harry thought to himself, "It's finally here." What he had to face was inevitable, but he forced himself to remain calm and tried to make his voice sound steady. He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Longbottom, I don't know who did it."

He made up his mind to deny it completely first and see how the other party would respond.

Frank wasn't surprised. Instead of immediately pressing for answers, he adopted a more roundabout strategy, leaning back in his chair as if chatting casually, and said in a seemingly relaxed tone, "Oh, it's okay."

"Did you notice anyone behaving strangely or unusually in the days following the incident?"

“Any little unusual thing can be mentioned.”

Harry scratched his head unconsciously, pretending to carefully recall the events of those days, and said truthfully, "Charles was acting a bit strange those days, just sitting on the sofa in a daze. Professor Dumbledore noticed it when he came to play games that day. You don't think he did it, do you?"

In Harry's eyes, although Aunt Petunia was usually mean and hateful, she was a great person who did justice to the Snape family by blowing up their house, and he had to do everything he could to protect her.

It would be much safer to direct suspicion at Charles, since he hadn't actually done it and had considerable influence within the Ministry of Magic, making him a reliable suspect.

(End of this chapter)