Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 470, Chapter 468: Newt's Regret (3k)

The fire crackled and popped, and the cat on the table curiously buried its whiskers in the glass bottle. The foam of the butterbeer burst, and the snow piled up on the ground.

"You look too old."

Rita raised her butterbeer mug, the pale yellow liquid obscuring Newt's face.

"Ah."

Newt also didn't look directly at Leta, only responding.

He seemed to want to say something, but when the time came, he couldn't bring himself to say the words he had kept hidden for so many years.

"You should be angry with me."

Rita gazed at the hazy white outline of the distant mountains and said.

"I have never been angry with you."

Newt's tone sounded quite stiff.

The two fell silent, which made the black cat realize that they couldn't understand each other's language.

Its head bobbed slightly, and it seemed to understand the whole story.

Hufflepuff once helped Leta take the blame, and was eventually expelled from Hogwarts.

But Rita didn't have the courage to tell everyone the truth at that time.

Even years later, Leta still believed that Newt should hate her, because she caused him to be expelled from Hogwarts and to be unable to find a decent job.

If it weren't for Dumbledore, the Transfiguration professor at the time, opposing the school's punishment, Newt might not have even been able to keep his wand, just like Hagrid.

The fate of a wizard without a wand is predictable.

This explains why Hufflepuff's old senior once lived in such dire straits.

According to him, one of the reasons he wrote *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them* was:
"August Worm of the Obscure Books commissioned me to write an authoritative handbook about magical creatures."

At that time, I was just a lowly employee working at the Ministry of Magic, so I was eager for this opportunity, firstly to increase my two sieverts a week, and secondly to travel the world in search of new magical creatures to pass the time on my holidays.

A weekly salary of two sieges is definitely not enough for a wizard to survive in the magical world.

Not to mention that Hufflepuff has always dreamed of traveling the world and exploring magical creatures.

The snow drifted onto the windows of the wooden house, and after being warmed by the fire in the fireplace, it turned into water droplets that fell into the white flowers.

Rita went to the kitchen.

Newt hesitated, then could only look at the cat.

The black cat is drinking butterbeer in a rather amusing way; it opens its mouth wide, letting the butterbeer flow down the tilted glass into its mouth, unlike a normal cat.

Newt couldn't help but laugh, and then just kept looking at the cat.

"If you have anything to say to Ms. Rita, please do so."

The black cat put down its wine glass.

Newt fell silent, unsure how to respond to the black cat's question.

"Your time is running out."

The black cat watched as the fog gradually thickened, unknowingly rising from the coast, rising from the garden, rising from the blazing fire in the house.

People are being driven away from the border area.

The black cat counted the time and realized that it had stayed at the border for a little longer.

It understood that it was most likely the legend that suddenly appeared at the border.

It's strange, though, that a wizard's soul seems to fall in love with something far too easily at the borderlands.

For example, a vague rumor, or a rumored cat.

The black cat stared at Newt with its emerald green vertical pupils, and Newt felt as if it had seen through him.

He felt he could resist, but he was always honest.

"You should tell her."

"Wh-what?"

"You don't even tell the truth in your heart."

"what?"

“Mr. Scamander…”

“My dear Bastet, please stop making me go in circles.”

"I mean, you have a really complicated inner world."

"Wizards have very complex inner lives."

"Ms. Rita felt very guilty."

"why?"

"you are……"

Black Cat understood. Hufflepuff was too upright and kind. He willingly accepted the consequences of his choices and never resented anyone.

But Rita doesn't think so.

In other words, Hufflepuff could only realize that there must be a misunderstanding, but he didn't know the key point.

Rita, of course, had no face to talk about it.

What made the black cat realize even more was that this might be a conversation that was a lifetime too late.

No wonder Mr. Scamander was so persistent.

The kitchen was filled with the sounds of clattering and banging; Rita was carefully preparing something.

The black cat gave Newt a look he couldn't understand. As Newt stared blankly at the cat, it darted into the kitchen.

"Dear Bastet, or should I call you the black cat who rules over good fortune and dreams?"

Rita paused in her hand, which was directing the pots and pans, and asked it a question.

The black cat shook its head, it was unclear which title it was denying.

"What are you looking at me for? When did such a wicked wizard arrive at the border?"

Rita was moving the pots and pans around when the black cat noticed that the place seemed to have been vandalized; some bowls were broken and some cabinets were missing doors.

This was the first time the black cat had discovered traces of a battle between souls at the border.

What it doesn't understand is, what else can harm a soul?
"The exact opposite of what you described."

The black cat jumped onto the table.

"Nobody here likes me either, and maybe you never liked me either."

Rita was still busy; she turned on the dilapidated oven.

That's not right. I've never thought you were a bad person.

"The black cat said."

“You’re an exception, though. Everyone else thinks I’m bad; they’re right, I’m evil.” Rita’s voice was soft.

“Ms. Lestrange, no one is unforgivable, including yourself. Even if you are guilty.”

"That's what the black cat said."

Are you trying to comfort me?

Rita smiled.

The black cat neither admitted nor denied it; it simply jumped onto Rita's shoulder and watched with her as the snow on the window melted in the steam.

"No wonder people like you."

Rita sighed.

The black cat, not understanding why, raised its tail.

"But you can never understand a wizard, dear Bastet."

Unless you're exactly like me.

Rita never imagined she would be discussing these things with a wizard, but now, standing on her shoulder, was a cat.

Her eyes were somewhat unfocused.

Over the years, those past events have repeatedly appeared in her nightmares.

It was a night in 1901.

Inside the cabin. Young Rita is awake in the lower bunk, while her younger brother, baby Kovacs, screams in his crib.

The lights flickered on and off—young Rita didn't move; she was still watching the screaming baby Kovacs.

Figures ran past in the corridor outside the door. Young Rita approached the crying baby Corvacs, noticing the door to the opposite cabin was slightly ajar. Baby Credence was fast asleep inside.

As a child, Rita sneaked in and switched the two babies.

“I never intended to hurt him. I just wanted to get away from him temporarily, just for a little while…”

The black cat opened its vertical pupils, which possessed the ability to manipulate consciousness, and heard Rita's mature voice.

In 1901, the ship suddenly began to rock. Young Rita's mother snatched the baby Credence from her, failing in the chaos to notice that the infant had been switched.

The cabin door was suddenly kicked open again, and outside was a young woman with black hair, wearing pajamas and a life jacket.

Credence's mother burst in, slipped into her cabin, picked up baby Corvacs, and didn't notice that the baby had been switched.

Young Rita, Irma, and baby Clements are in a lifeboat.

Credence's mother and Rita's younger brother, baby Kovacs, were in another lifeboat.

A giant wave crashed in, and young Rita watched helplessly as Credence's mother and baby Corvacs' lifeboat capsized.

Several survivors surfaced, including Claydes' mother, but not the baby Kovacs...

Credence's mother took off her life jacket and sank into the water as well...

She did not resurface.

As a child, Rita's gaze pierced the sea, past the drowned woman, and revealed the dark silhouette of a drowned baby.

The drowned baby fell into the turquoise sea and finally came to rest in the tomb.

Rita conjured this illusion. It had haunted Rita her entire life, and now she showed it to the black cat.

"This is not your fault."

"The black cat said."

"Whose fault is that?"

Rita asked.

"No one is at fault in the face of disaster."

The black cat fell silent.

"I am a monster, dear Bastet. Newt has encountered a monster he cannot love."

Rita didn't seem to be planning to go out. She placed the dried fish in front of the black cat and just stared at it.

"Thank you, but I'm not a cat."

The black cat said, pushing the dried fish away with its paw.

“Oh, well, great master of dreams, messenger of good fortune, Bastet, symbol of war and family, would you like to accept my offering?”

Rita smiled.

The black cat suddenly realized that they were in love.

Love blossomed between Leta and Newt during those hazy, ambiguous moments they shared at Hogwarts.

"Grandma Milan said..."

The black cat spoke, and Rita involuntarily focused her attention on it.
"When she was young, she didn't understand how contradictory human nature was, how much pretense there was in sincerity, how much baseness was hidden in nobility, and perhaps, even in evil, one could find virtue."

For every man who sees evil, another sees virtue.

Rita fell silent, tilting her head slightly so that her cheek could touch the black cat's whiskers.

"You have learned many principles of wizardry. Some people know many principles, but they are not good wizards."

Rita sighed after a moment of silence.

You should tell him.

"The black cat said."

"Tell him what?"

Rita asked.

Tell him you feel guilty.

"The black cat said."

"But he must hate me."

Rita was somewhat lost in thought.

"He never hated you."

Black Cat realized that the two of them had gone in a big circle.

“I am grateful to you, we are, but you don’t need to comfort me.”

Rita clearly didn't believe it.

This silenced the black cat for a time.

Mr. Scamander chose to remain silent at that time, while Rita chose to run away because of her cowardice and guilt.

The two sixteen-year-old wizards were left with a regret they could never express.

Let it be buried along with the love that never had a chance to grow.

(End of this chapter)