Hogwarts: Who made her a professor?

Chapter 470 Werewolf Tears

Life is precious, but love is even more valuable.

For the sake of freedom, both can be sacrificed.

This is a short poem written by the Muggle poet Petőfi in the 19th century.

Phil Woolf probably didn't know who Petőfi was, but he knew how precious freedom was.

Surrendering may grant you the wolfsbane potion to alleviate your pain, but it also means losing your precious freedom.

Those who resisted stubbornly would not only fail to obtain the wolfsbane medicine to relieve their pain, but would also be imprisoned in Azkaban.

After careful consideration, Phil Woolf decided to seize the opportunity to escape, to get as far away as possible.

If they could take Belvina, who was sitting opposite them, hostage, their chances of escaping would greatly increase, since she was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

However, on the other hand, she is, after all, the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A person's name carries weight, and the head of the Ministry of Magic's violent department cannot be completely incompetent.

Phil Woolf was running out of time; he had to make a decision quickly and leave the perilous Muggle village before the full moon appeared.

Once the full moon appears, Woolf will transform into a werewolf, at which point he will be driven by his werewolf instincts, attacking any humans in his path without regard for their safety, thus missing the best opportunity to escape.

Thinking of this, Phil Woolf's eyes grew increasingly sinister. He decided to first test the strength of the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. If he failed in his first attempt, he would immediately jump out of the window and escape. He could not fall into the hands of the other party under any circumstances.

"Miss Black, if I surrender to the Ministry of Magic with my men, will I receive any additional benefits?"

Phil Woolf pretended to be persuaded, but in reality he was observing Belvina sitting opposite him, looking for the perfect opportunity to make his move.

As we all know, most wizards are like glass cannons with high attack but low defense; they get vomiting when they drink too much and feel pain when they get hit.

Woolf planned to exploit the common fatal flaw of wizards in an attempt to strike with a single blow.

Clearly, Phil Woolf did not understand Black.

"You're lying, Mr. Woolf," Belvina said coldly. "Your gaze has been fixed on my neck."

She paused for a moment, then continued, "You want to take me hostage, use me to force back the Aurors lying in ambush in the village, and use me to save your own life."

Belvina laughed and continued, "If you can't take me hostage, then take advantage of my panic and escape through the window. Use the last bit of time before the full moon appears to run as far as you can."

With his lies exposed and his thoughts revealed, Phil Woolf, who had originally intended to maintain his facade, stopped hiding and chose to take direct action.

Woolf raised her hand and grabbed at Belvina across the table, her sharp, claw-like nails aimed straight for Belvina's throat.

Although Belvina is like most wizards, she is also different from most wizards. Magic is her talent, and close combat is her hobby.

Faced with sharp claws, Belvina showed no panic and pushed the table with both hands. The table, which was full of plates and leftovers, was pushed by her and crashed directly into Woolf's soft belly.

Whether it's an animal or a human, the abdomen is very vulnerable without the protection of bones.

When Woolf was hit by the dining table, a sharp pain shot through her unprotected abdomen. She lost her balance and fell onto the table, her sharp claws missing their mark.

While Phil Woolf was having intimate contact with the leftovers, Belvina slipped out of the restaurant, simultaneously drawing her wand and aiming it at the werewolf lying on the table, who had not yet transformed.

Although close combat is Belvina's hobby, she's not foolish enough to engage in hand-to-hand combat with werewolves. She's a noble mage, so the correct way to play as a mage is to create distance and then bombard them with magic.

Having missed his first strike, Phil Woolf ignored the soup and grease stains on his chest. He flipped the table over to block Belvina's view, then leaped towards the window, ready to escape!

Woolf leaped up, bending her arms to protect her head. If she could smash through the window blocking her way, her chances of escaping would greatly increase.

Boom!

It wasn't the crisp sound of breaking glass, but a dull thud from the impact!

Phil Woolf, who crashed into the windowpane, felt a sudden darkness before his eyes. As his vision gradually returned to normal, he saw the ceiling of the room.

Immediately afterward, the side of Woolf's body that had hit the window experienced intense, excruciating pain, and he couldn't help but wonder if his bones had broken in the impact.

Before Woolf could figure out why the windows of the Muggle house were so sturdy, he felt something wrap around his neck, and then a tremendous force suddenly appeared, dragging Woolf out of the restaurant.

The intense feeling of suffocation rendered Woolf incapable of thinking. Her legs kicked wildly involuntarily, and her hands reached involuntarily towards her neck, trying to remove the noose that was tightening around her neck.

And so, Phil Woolf, his eyes wide and tongue lolling, was dragged into the living room, his feet kicking and thrashing about, his sharp nails scratching his neck until it bled profusely.

Suddenly, the suffocating feeling of the rope around his neck disappeared. Utterly disheveled, Woolf disregarded everything else and desperately gasped for air, his chest heaving violently like a balloon being inflated and deflated.

"If you tell me Fenrir Greyback's whereabouts, I might consider sparing your life."

Belvina's voice rang out, her tone still cold and devoid of any emotion, making it impossible to tell whether she had anything to say.

lie.

As Phil Woolf lay on his back, breathing heavily, he finally understood that Belvina's earlier statement, "I'm really good at fighting," was not a bluff; she really was good at fighting.

"How about it, consider it?"

As she spoke, Belvina tossed a vial of medicine next to Woolf.

The precious potion that could alleviate the pain of werewolf transformation was simply thrown on the ground by Belvina, showing no appreciation whatsoever.

"Although the wolfsbane medicine tastes terrible, as long as you take it on time from now on, the pain caused by the full moon will be greatly relieved, and you will be able to retain your sanity during the transformation."

At this moment, Phil Woolf was completely deaf to Belvina's seductive words. Half of his body was still throbbing with pain, and the new wound on his neck was burning with pain.

While it might not be described as excruciating, Phil Woolf, covered in wounds, was certainly in excruciating pain, and he simply didn't have the mind to think about anything else.

"Where is Fenrir Greyback?" Belvina asked again.

Phil Woolf struggled to get up; it was already completely dark outside the window, and he really didn't have time now.

Will he drink the wolfsbane potion, confess his guilt, and submit to the law, or wait for the full moon to appear, transform into a werewolf, and fight to the death?

Woolf must make another decision.

"I don't know where Fenrir is; he's the one who contacts me."

Despite the excruciating pain, Phil Woolf struggled to sit up, not even glancing at the wolfsbane potion in front of him.

"Even if I knew where Fenrir was, do you think I would tell you?" Woolf continued, her voice trembling. "No, I won't tell you anything!"

At this moment, Phil Woolf no longer ran away, no longer feared; he only wanted to bite this detestable woman to death, or be killed by her. He had no other thoughts.

"It doesn't matter if I don't know Greyback's whereabouts. If you're willing to reveal the hiding places of other werewolf groups, I might consider sparing your life." Belvina decided to make one last attempt.

To cripple Voldemort's power, simply destroying the werewolf community led by Phil Woolf is far from enough.

Therefore, Belvina had no choice but to patiently ask Woolf all sorts of questions, even though the chances were slim.

"I told you, I'm not going to tell you anything, don't you understand!" Phil Woolf roared, ignoring the pain in his body.

At this moment, Phil Woolf the werewolf is no longer a cunning hunter, but a desperate man who gambles with his life and will stop at nothing to save it.

"One day, Fenrir will lead his werewolf army to overthrow the wizards' rule. The werewolves will rule the Ministry of Magic and trample all the wizards underfoot!"

Just as Phil Woolf was hysterically roaring and fantasizing about the werewolf's grand ambitions, Belvina picked at her ear with her little finger, looking extremely impatient.

Then, Belvina blew her little finger in a flippant manner, and said coldly, "Mr. Woolf, before the last call was even finished, Phil Woolf, who was losing control of his emotions, suddenly froze, and his limbs began to tremble."

Then, a terrible roar rang out, Woolf's head elongated, her body grew longer, and her sharp nails turned into even sharper claws.

"Awoo!"

A terrifying wolf howl.

Phil Woolf transformed into a werewolf, standing on his hind legs and staring greedily at Belvina.

Belvina sighed. She really wasn't good at giving others another chance. Every time she tried to be a kind and good person, she would end up making a mess of things.

Phil Woolf, transformed into a werewolf, charged forward. With a bang, a flash of light struck Woolf precisely, sending the werewolf flying through the air and crashing straight into the wall.

“Wuwu!”

The werewolf howled in pain, but driven by instinct, it charged at Belvina once more.

With another bang and another flash of light, the werewolf was once again blasted away by the spell, crashing into the hard wall once more, letting out another howl.

Whether it was the werewolf's bloodthirsty instinct that was too strong, or Phil Woolf's desire to kill Belvina that was so intense, the werewolf charged at Belvina again and again, even though his whole body was in so much pain it felt like it was going to fall apart.

A flash of light, followed by a loud bang.

"Waaaaah————"

A flash of light, followed by a loud bang.

"Waaaaah————"

This repeated several times until the solid stone wall was breached, at which point the werewolves finally stopped their desperate charge.

The werewolf, no longer driven by his bloodlust, began to howl. His survival instinct kicked in, and he tried to escape.

However, under the combined attack of the curse and the wall, the werewolf's bones were broken, and he couldn't even stand up, let alone escape.

At this moment, Belvina waved her wand again, and a black, hard rope appeared, which then bound the werewolf's limbs tightly with animal-foot knots.

Then, Belvina waved her wand again, and a black, hard rope reappeared, tied around the werewolf's neck like a tether, and a tear slid down the corner of the werewolf's eye.

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