Hogwarts Study Panel.

Chapter 617, Section 615: A Family

"5:07, from a London farm."

After Apparition, a voice was heard speaking.

Sheehan peeked out from behind Professor McGonagall and looked around.

The place they arrived at resembled a vast, desolate, misty swamp.

Before them stood two weary, gloomy wizards, one holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill pen.

Both men were dressed as Muggles, but they were completely inept at it: the man with the gold watch wore a tweed suit jacket on top, but on the bottom he wore a pair of thigh-high rubber boots.

His colleague was wearing a kilt like those worn by Scottish Highland men and a South American cloak.

"Old McGonagall, you've come!"

The weary wizard felt a little happier.

"Basil, lad, are you on duty?"

Marcus went over and patted him on the shoulder, making him shake.

"It's me, it's me. Luckily you didn't use the door key."

Basil tried to steady himself.

Without Marcus asking, they knew why Basil didn't want to see the door key.

Look at the key behind Basil. = A dirty rag, = a moldy boot, and = a soda can reeking of decay.

"oh----"

Hermione pinched her nose.

"Your campsite is half a mile away, the second field ahead. The campsite manager is Mr. Payne."

Basil said.

"Thank you, young man. We're leaving now. You'll stay at your post, right?"

Marcus laughed heartily as he spoke.

"Of course, Ms. McGonagall."

Basil forced his eyes to open wider.

"teacher?"

Hermione murmured something with a hint of curiosity.

"Basil is a capable young man. Although he didn't complete the Auror training, he's an excellent person."

Marcus crouched down and said to Hermione.

"Are you an examiner from the Auror Training Department?"

Hermione was quite surprised.

"It used to be."

Marcus's big teeth were showing.

"That's amazing."

Hermione said sincerely.

"So-so."

Marcus strode forward with a cheerful smile.

"Sheen, you've never introduced him to us before—"

Hermione, who had fallen behind, whispered to Sheehan.

Seeing the bewildered look on the young wizard's face, Hermione swallowed the rest of her words.

That's really strange.

Hermione thought to herself.

Everyone at McGonagall clearly cares about Sheen—it's obvious to everyone—but Sheen doesn't seem that familiar with them, as if he didn't grow up there.

Considering Sheehan's behavior in certain aspects, Hermione suddenly opened her mouth wide.

"You guessed it?"

Justin asked in a low and gentle voice.

"You already knew?"

Hermione wouldn't underestimate Justin.

"Um."

Justin nodded.

The two seemed to be speaking in riddles.

Sheen took in all of this. He listened quietly to their supposedly discreet conversation, thinking that his enhanced senses didn't seem to be able to control them at will.

Sometimes he doesn’t actually intend to invade other people’s privacy, but the heightened senses don’t always go his way.

They crossed a desolate swamp, where almost nothing could be seen in the thick fog.

After walking for about twenty minutes, a door gradually appeared in front of them, followed by a small stone house.

Sheen could easily distinguish the hundreds of oddly shaped tents behind the stone house.

They climbed up a large, gentle slope that stretched towards a dark forest on the horizon.

A man stood at the entrance, gazing at the tents.

As soon as the man heard their footsteps, he turned around and looked at them.

Good morning, Mr. Payne.

Marcus said.

"Good morning,"

Payne asked, "Who are you?"

"McGee—two tents, booked two days ago, do you have them?"

"Okay, can I pay now?"

Payne said.

"certainly!"

Marcus handed over pounds sterling.

Interestingly, the person in charge of the camp here is a Muggle.

The reason likely stems from the Ministry of Magic. They didn't buy this Muggle territory; they leased it.

Therefore, they have to pay rent to the Muggles.

Sheehan felt that the Ministry of Magic should be able to skip this process, but for some reason, the Ministry still chose to have a dozen or so Muggles do the job.

"Oh, how lucky you are, you didn't give the wrong money."

Payne looked at the pounds Marcus pulled out and laughed. "To be honest, there are too many foreigners coming here. They always bring gold coins and order hundreds of tents at a time."

"Is that so? That's interesting."

Marcus was already arm in arm with him.

"Absolutely! People from all over the place. Countless foreigners. Not just foreigners, but also a lot of weirdos, you know? There was this guy walking around wearing a pleated miniskirt and a South American cape."

Mr. Payne also started talking.

"Oh ho ho, they must still have a hard time understanding what they're saying, right?"

Marcus continued.

"Well, who can argue with that?"

Payne looked troubled. "These weirdos, I have a feeling they're having some kind of party—"

Just then, a wizard wearing lantern pants suddenly descended from the sky and landed by the door of Mr. Payne's stone house.

"Forget everything, and all is emptiness!"

He pointed his wand at Mr. Payne and said sternly.

Instantly, Mr. Payne's gaze became unfocused, his brow relaxed, and his face showed a dazed and indifferent expression. It was easy to see that this was exactly the state of a person when their memory was altered.

The three young wizards were all astonished.

This was the first time Sheen had ever seen someone's memories altered.

He stared at Payne, a white mist shrouding Sheehan's eyes.

He could clearly see that Payne's mist had been altered; the parts that symbolized different emotions and memories had turned into a thin, dark mist.

It looks the same as the black fog at the border.

Here's a map of the campsite.

Mr. Payne calmly said to Marcus, "And here's your change."

"Ah, okay."

Marcus said, frowning.

The wizard in lantern pants accompanied them as they walked toward the camp gate.

He looked extremely tired: his chin was unkempt and bluish-black, and there were bluish-purple shadows under his eyes.

When Mr. Payne could no longer hear them, the wizard muttered to Marcus, "Ms. McGonagall, you've come? Sigh, I didn't want to do this either; you can't imagine how much trouble he's caused me."

To keep him in a good mood, I have to recite the forgetfulness spell a dozen times a day. Good heavens, I wish all this would end soon.

He then vanished in an instant.

"To cast the Oblivion Spell in this way—"

Sheen asked softly.

"The Ministry of Magic doesn't care about the safety of Muggles."

Marcus muttered, "He'll definitely become forgetful afterward, which is for the best. St. Mungo's Hospital might be able to help him, but where is he going to find St. Mungo's Hospital?"

If you ask me, Voldemort did at least one good thing—he let wizards know that they, like Muggles, only have one life.

Everyone fell silent.

Only Sheen watched Mr. Payne silently, and some of his fog dissipated.

But it didn't spread very far.

Sheen longed to catch those dissipating wisps of mist.

An unexpected event occurred at that moment.

With the help of the white mist, Sheen actually managed to catch the dissipating mist that represented the soul.

This surprised and delighted him.

As if some rule had been broken, quite abruptly, Sheen noticed his empty rune trembling.

With a "crack", the empty talisman split open again.

"The fifth one."

Sheehan frowned, pondering Lady Hufflepuff's words.

"It will crack seven times —"

Further on, he recalled Professor Trelawney's prophecy.

"The empty rune shatters, and a legend emerges."

Sheen seemed to have grasped something vaguely.

He shook his head, letting the conjecture fly away like a bird, and then returned the mist, symbolizing the integrity of the soul, to Mr. Payne, but did not stop the mist of memory from dissipating.

Before leaving, he left behind a wisp of white mist to prevent the mist from dissipating again from his soul.

"That's good."

Seeing Mr. Payne's eyes clear up, Sheehan muttered to himself.

They walked laboriously through the mist-shrouded ground, passing between two long rows of tents.

Most of the tents look unremarkable; clearly, their owners have put in a lot of effort to make them look as much like Muggle tents as possible. However, some have gone too far, adding unnecessary bacon, bell ropes, or weather vanes, making them look like a mishmash.

However, there were a few tents that were clearly enchanted, so it's no wonder Mr. Payne was suspicious.

In the center of the venue, a tent stood out prominently. It was lavishly decorated with striped silk, resembling a small palace, and several live peacocks were tied up at the entrance.

A little further ahead, they saw another tent set up in the shape of a four-story building, with several corner towers next to it.

Further over there, there's another tent with a garden in front, complete with bird baths, sundials, fountains, and more.

"It's always like this."

Marcus said dismissively, "Showing off is ingrained in every wizard's bones. By the way, we've arrived."

The group looked ahead and fell silent.

Before them was an enormous tent, taking up the space of the other three wizards' tents.

Several people are already watching the tent.

"Fudge had to do this; he always knew who to curry favor with."

Despite saying that, Sheen didn't see Marcus showing any dissatisfaction. On the contrary, he practically had his smugness written all over his face.

"You really are—"

Hermione gasped.

The reason is simple: the tent is just too big.

"This is not my achievement."

Marcus was beaming with joy.

Hermione and Justin immediately looked at Sheehan, and Sheehan looked at them as well.

After staring at each other for a few seconds, Hermione and Justin turned their heads away.

They could hardly discern anything from those clear green eyes. They believed that no one else could either.

"Alright, that's settled. We'll stay together, and then we'll pick up Miss Granger's parents later. They're very concerned about you, so I asked Fudge for some extra seats—"

Marcus arranged it.

"Really?! But my parents, they're both Muggles—"

Hermione seemed very surprised.

"So what if they're Muggles? Muggles and wizards are both human. Muggles might even be smarter—you'll see my good-for-nothing kids in a bit. They're all Muggles."

Marcus blew his beard and glared.

"oh----"

Hermione thought he was a wise and kind old wizard.

"Us? What about Sheen?"

Justin keenly sensed something.

"Little Green, he lives in the next tent. With Minerva and the others. You can go see him anytime—come on, we're getting ready for Diagon Alley."

Marcus waved his robes with a flourish. Hermione and Justin quickly grabbed his hands.

In an instant, the three figures twisted and disappeared.

"We need to set up tents."

Professor McGonagall looked at the tents that hadn't been set up yet and said gently.

Sheen nodded, instinctively drew his wand, and then put it back.

The Ministry of Magic has decreed that magic cannot be used in this area. While this rule may not always apply to wizards, Sheen is not one to break the rules.

He picked up the stand and quickly set it up.

He's not exactly skinny anymore; setting up a tent shouldn't be too difficult for him.

But he soon discovered that scaffolding had been erected on the opposite side as well. Sheehan looked over in surprise and could see Professor Snape's expressionless face.

"I'll go solve the water problem."

Professor McGonagall held the map, her brows relaxed, and then headed towards the location marked with a water tap on the map.

When she returned, she saw Sheen hammering nails, with Snape holding the nails. Every time Sheen's hammer fell, Snape's eyebrows twitched slightly.

"Oh, it's all set up?"

Minerva put down the iron bucket she was carrying, which was actually floating in the air.

"Um."

Sheen nodded; he had almost forgotten how life would be without magic.

But judging from Professor Snape's slightly out of breath, the professor must have forgotten about it more completely than he had.

"Start a fire, Severus. I'll go prepare the ingredients."

As if by magic, Minerva slowly took out various foods from the tent.

Sheen turned around and saw Professor Snape staring at the matchbox.

"Do you know how to use it?"

Sheen asked hesitantly.

Snape silently swiped a coin, a slight smile playing on his cold lips.

Then, I got burned.

He stared blankly at the hand that twitched for a second, as if it weren't his own hand.

When Minerva came out of the tent, the fire was already lit, and a stove stood beside the tent, radiating warmth.

Two wizards, one big and one small, sat on the ground covered with a blanket, roasting sweet potatoes and pumpkins around a fire.

The aroma is intoxicating, and the sweetness is nourishing.

"Time for breakfast."

Minerva called softly.

The two wizards stood up in unison, took the same steps, and sat down in their chairs at the same time. Then, because their movements were so synchronized, they looked at each other strangely.

Minerva held the black tea, her eyes crinkling with a smile.

Strands of sunlight shone on the tent, illuminating the three wizards, or perhaps, a family.

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