A day at Hogwarts.

Chapter 712 Controversial Item
The weather suddenly turned cold, and the biting wind, like an ice-forged blade, cut into every inch of exposed skin.

Hibiscus wrapped her travel cloak tighter around herself, trudging through the ankle-deep fallen leaves, her breath instantly torn apart by the cold wind.

She had learned from her father earlier that Charles had been suspended from school. During their later conversation, she noticed that Charles didn't seem to be in any trouble and that he was going to America to relax.

She recently learned from her grandmother that Charles was living in seclusion in the Rocky Mountains, researching a very profound magical problem, and she also learned the address.

Furong has been quite busy lately, and only today did she have time to visit Charles.

At this moment, she was walking along a mountain path covered with fallen leaves, her thoughts more complicated than the winding path itself.

The bare branches of the trees intertwined above her head, cutting through the azure sky.

The forest was eerily quiet, save for the sound of her boots crunching through the dry leaves and the uncontrollable pounding of her heart.

A single thought, like a ghost, had followed her ever since she set off, and now it was magnified infinitely in these mountains.

In these mountains, besides Charles, there was only himself.

What should I do if he makes... makes that kind of request?
Once this idea emerged, it took root stubbornly and could not be shaken off.

Her cheeks were unusually hot in the cold wind.

Should I symbolically hesitate for a moment, half-heartedly, to maintain a bit of girlish modesty?

Should we heed the bolder voice deep inside and give a direct and straightforward answer?

Or, you could take the initiative and knock him to the ground...

My thoughts are like a tangled ball of yarn, impossible to unravel.

As she imagined his reaction and envisioned possible scenarios, each deduction made her breathing more rapid.

This long mountain road seemed to have become the arena for her inner struggle.

A few wisps of smoke rose from the chimney of the wooden house and dissipated into the mountains and forests.

When she finally saw the low wooden house halfway up the mountain, a determination to go all out was formed at the same time.

Furong took a deep breath of the icy air, as if gathering all her courage for the meeting to come.

She tidied her wind-blown hair, smoothed the wrinkles in her robes, and walked towards the cabin with as composed a pace as possible.

However, just a dozen steps away from the cabin, she suddenly stopped, as if struck by a freezing spell.

Right there in the open space in front of the wooden house, wisps of smoke were rising from the charcoal fire in the barbecue grill, and a petite figure that was all too familiar was busy at the table next to the grill.

The trout caught from the nearby river had already been cleaned and gutted. Gabrielle was rubbing the fish with a mixture of crushed black and white pepper, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and olive oil, then inserting lemon slices into the cuts made in the fish, and finally wrapping it in aluminum foil.

Whether it was because the temperature of the barbecue grill next to her was not low, or because she was too tired, her face was flushed.

Furong stood frozen in place, her mind blank.

She let out a long breath, throwing all the thoughts she had been having on the way into the mountains.

Gabrielle placed the foil-wrapped fish in a grill rack and carefully put it on the grill.

After finishing all that, she raised her hand to wipe her sweat and then noticed her sister standing not far in front of her.

“Sister!” Gabrielle laughed, her eyes curving into crescents, as if she wasn’t surprised to see her sister there.

Furong frowned and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Even though it's the weekend, it's unusual for Gabrielle to come to America. Gabrielle replied, "My grandmother brought me here."

Furong was taken aback, not expecting her grandmother to have arrived.

As she approached the cabin, she heard her grandmother talking to Charles.

Angelina said to Charles, "This is for you; I think it will inspire your research."

She held in her hand a very old roll of parchment, bound with yellowed white ribbons, with some tears at the edges and some dark stains that had not been removed. The whole roll of parchment exuded a sense of historical vicissitude.

After nodding to Fleur as she entered, Angelina continued, "My mother was a renowned potion master among the Veela, but what she poured her heart and soul and pride into was this thesis."

Her fingers gently traced the surface of the parchment, her eyes revealing complex emotions.

"For her, becoming a potion master was simply a necessary learning and preparation process to complete this masterpiece."

“When you told me that you would exchange my hair for something that day, I knew that you were on the same path.”

"If it helps your research, your mother will be very happy."

"However, this road is full of thorns, even swords, so you must be very careful."

Just as Furong was about to sit down, she heard her grandmother suddenly mention her mother, and her heart stirred.

Over the years, my grandmother has always been very secretive about the family's past.

All Furong knew was that her grandmother had moved to France with her mother when she was young, and that was all she knew.

Hearing this, she couldn't help but hold her breath.

However, Angelina clearly had no intention of saying anything more and handed the parchment to Charles.

Charles nodded to Fleur and solemnly accepted the parchment scroll.

He said solemnly, "Mrs. Angelina, rest assured, I will definitely study this paper carefully."

Although he didn't know what the content was, he had a premonition that he wasn't the only one fighting on the path of the theory he was researching.

Angelina nodded and said, "Don't mention this to the other Veela. If they find out, they might react the same way they always have."

"That is, I was young when my mother died, and the other Veela thought I didn't know what my mother had done, so they didn't investigate."

“If they knew that I had been hiding this paper all along, it would be a completely different story.”

Charles gasped; this paper seemed very important.

Angelina concluded by saying, "Open it. It's written with a password. I'll tell you what's inside."

"I've done some research over the years, and I can share my thoughts with you."

Charles nodded, took a deep breath to calm himself, carefully untied the ribbon, and opened the book.

Upon seeing the title alone, he understood why Mrs. Angelina's mother had brought her to France.

"On the isomorphism of Veela charm and love potion in terms of magical mechanisms and ethics: An analysis of 'involuntary emotions'"—any Veela who sees this title will surely be furious. The only reason they can survive and make it to France is because they are kind.

The title of the paper seemed to carry a heavy weight, making the air in the room feel heavy.

Charles's gaze swept over the ancient, elegant handwriting, as if he could sense the courage and controversy it contained.

(End of this chapter)