Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle

"What does this have to do with the business you're talking about?"

"I would like to entrust you to sneak into Azkaban, approach Bellatrix, and take the key to Gringotts' vault from her." Melvin said in a light voice, with an indifferent tone, as if he was asking him to borrow something insignificant.

Peter's expression changed again, his pupils shrank to a point, and he stared at him in shock and horror, in disbelief.

"You were trying to rob Bellatrix's Gringotts vault! That's illegal!"

"Oh, Mr. Peter..."

Melvin looked at him with a slight disapproval, pushing Yurm back into his fedora. "Is there some misunderstanding between us? Are you a law-abiding wizard? Or do I need to hand you over to the Ministry of Magic and let you sort yourself out in the interrogation room?"

"I..." Peter opened his mouth, speechless.

"Besides, I just asked you to help me get the key to Gringotts' vault. It doesn't mean anything. Maybe I just keep it for collection." Melvin shrugged.

The pumpkin juice was steaming, blurring Peter's vision again. It had a sweet aroma. Peter's throat rolled twice, his mouse-like eyes moved again, and a plan came to his mind.

After a while, he suddenly stuffed the remaining cream cake into his mouth and took a sip of pumpkin juice. His expression was definitely like a knight charging at a wyvern:

"Okay, I can help you!"

Melvin's reaction was completely different from what he expected. He shook his head and said, "An illegal Animagus, especially a nimble and inconspicuous animal like a mouse, wouldn't be afraid of being hunted by anyone.

"As long as you can get away with it temporarily, get out of my sight and out of the range of the spell, you can find a place anywhere, a wizard's family, the sewer of a street, or even Hogwarts Castle, and you can get rid of my threat.

"Even if I report it to the Ministry of Magic, no one will believe me.

"How could a Second Class Order of Merlin who died twelve years ago be an illegal Animagus? How could he be a criminal?"

Melvin looked up into his eyes and asked with a smile, "Is that what you think?"

With every word he spoke, Peter's face became uglier. By the last question, his face was so pale that it was completely bloodless.

Putting his right hand down on the table and quietly reaching for his wand, Peter asked cautiously, "What do you want to do?"

"Maybe you should calm down for a while and think this deal through. We have plenty of time..."

The young professor spoke at a steady pace, but Peter's whole body was tense, his hairs stood on end, and he sniffed as keenly as a mouse in warning. The moment Melvin finished speaking, he had already grasped his wand.

But the young professor's spell came faster. Before he could raise his wand, the light of Transfiguration enveloped Peter Pettigrew, reflecting a look of despair in his pupils.

A white light flashed, and the short and fat middle-aged wizard disappeared. A little white mouse lay on the plate of cream cake, with a terrified look in its eyes and squeaking.

Unlike the mice in the Animagus incarnation, the mice in this state were purely transformed by Melvin's magic. Peter had no control over the transformation, and he could only tremble in fear and helplessness.

Yulm was very interested in the little white mouse. He stuck his head out of his hat to look at it and thought that this little white mouse was much more beautiful than the gray bald mouse.

"Mr. Peter, please think calmly. I believe that once I complete the preliminary preparations, our cooperation will be very pleasant."

Melvin held the mouse by its tail and walked to the wall shelf. He found the glass bottle where the beetle had been and threw the mouse in.

The glass jar used to hold jam is relatively narrow, which is more than enough for raising beetles, but it would be too cramped to hold a mouse.

The little white mouse was so scared that it trembled and curled up in the bottle, looking pitiful.

"Perhaps I should ask Professor Snape for a glass jar, the kind used to store specimens."

Melvin murmured softly.

……

After Christmas comes Boxing Day.

Hogwarts was still filled with howling snow and wind, but the students' enthusiasm for playing had not diminished in the slightest. The boys braved the biting cold wind to go to the playground to play snowball fights, and played until their clothes were soaked with snow and sweat, then they returned to the castle shivering. The girls preferred to gather in front of the fireplace and talk and laugh, chatting about topics that the boys were not allowed to hear.

Hermione was walking alone from the library to the Great Hall, carrying a single-shoulder backpack.

A lot of things happened recently, and I fell behind in my studies and read fewer extracurricular books. I'm going to take advantage of the Christmas holiday to read some books and relax.

It was a pity that Madam Pince's guards were too strict, otherwise she would have liked to look through the books in the restricted section.

Maybe you can ask Professor Lewinter for approval.

Speaking of Professor Lewinter...

Hermione stared down at the steps and walked down silently. She was now familiar with the way the stairs changed. She didn't need to pay attention all the time and would not get lost by instinct.

She thought of what Harry had said, about the professor making a deal with Malfoy, opening the Chamber of Secrets in advance to contact the basilisk, and guiding them to discover the truth and taking print ads to guide public opinion.

What kind of wizard is the Professor?

Walking into the auditorium, it was no different from Christmas Day. The Christmas tree was still placed in the middle of the aisle, and dry snowflakes were floating on the dome. Only the candles had been taken down, making it look less gorgeous.

Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, she subconsciously glanced at the guest of honor seat. Just as she was about to pick up her knife and fork to eat, she suddenly stopped, looked up at the guest of honor seat, and stared at the two empty seats.

Dumbledore and Professor Lewynter were away, and they missed dinner?

What did they do?

The little witch stared at the two empty seats and fell into deep thought.

Unfortunately, there are not enough clues and nothing can be guessed. Ron next to Harry is telling him the pain of losing Scabbers, and his chatter is very touching.

Hermione could only stop guessing, pick up her knife and fork and eat her meal honestly while flipping through today's Daily Prophet.

The news answered her doubts.

On the front page was a photo of four people, three of whom she knew: Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Lewynter, Minister Fudge, whom she had glanced at from afar, and a strange wizard.

"Merlin's Order of Merlin!"

"Just today, the Order of Merlin held a grand awarding ceremony. Two wizards were awarded the Order of Merlin, Second Class, for their outstanding contributions. They are Melvin Levent, who bravely subdued a runaway fire dragon in Romania and captured a group of dark wizards, and Damocles Belby, who invented and perfected the wolfsbane potion. Their deeds and achievements not only demonstrate their personal courage and wisdom, but also set an example for wizards in general."

Melvin Levant: Bravely fighting dragons, outwitting dark wizards, and protecting the Dragon Sanctuary.

"A Hogwarts elective professor visited the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary during summer vacation. At the time, a group of Dark wizards stealing dragon eggs enraged 23 female dragons in the incubator, causing more dragons to spiral out of control and vent their anger recklessly in the sanctuary, endangering the safety of visitors and keepers. Levent remained fearless in the face of danger..."

"At the ceremony, Albus Dumbledore, Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot, and Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, respectively awarded medals to the two and called on wizards around the world to learn from them. Their stories are like beacons, illuminating the wizarding world... Golden reporter Rita Skeeter reports for you."

Hermione turned it back over a few more times, finally staring at the picture.

In the photo, the principal and professor stand on the right, allowing Fudge to occupy the middle position, allowing him to show off his behavior completely, which looks a bit ridiculous. The person next to him should be Belby, who invented the wolfsbane potion.

The little witch's lips curled into a smile.

How could a professor like this be a bad wizard?

……

Upper Flagley, White Ink Bar.

As night fell, the venue lit up. Looking in from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows outside, the candlelight was brilliant. Fairies holding colorful magic candles swirled and danced under the ceiling, scattering crystal gold and silver powder, which complemented the crystal chandeliers, shining brightly and glitteringly.

It was an exceptionally ornately decorated building, with velvet carpets on the floors and intricately carved granite walls.

The wizards in the venue wore crisp dress robes with handkerchiefs or medals pinned on the chests of their shirts, and the buttons on the collars and sleeves were gilded. The witches wore gorgeous dresses, like flower buds blooming in the deep winter.

"Merlin, the incense here is killing my nose. I can't even tell if it's grape juice or wine."

Melvin stood at the table in the dining area, holding a glass of purple liquid in his hand. He took a sip, but couldn't identify the taste.

He wore a gold medal with a purple ribbon on his chest, which was quite dazzling under the light.

"Whatever you want to drink, just tell the waiter and someone will bring it to you." Dumbledore was wearing a gold and red robe with a first-class green medal on his chest. He was tall and straight, with a mysterious silver beard and hair. When he took the posture of a legendary wizard seriously, he still had the dignity of a principal.

Melvin glanced at his first-class medal. Green was Merlin's color, and also the color of Slytherin. Such a good color, such a good medal, but it was a pity that Cornelius Fudge also had one.

Last year, Cornelius Fudge awarded himself the First Class Medal in recognition of his outstanding contributions.

The reputation of the Order of Merlin was damaged and the value of the Order of Merlin plummeted.

Melvin recalled the events above and fumbled with the ring on his finger, which was inlaid with a small, delicate emerald of the same color as the ribbon of the medal.

"Headmaster, do you think Harry and the others will awaken the basilisk?"

"Who knows what's going to happen in the future?"

Dumbledore shook his goblet and whispered, "The entrance to the bathroom has been sealed. If the three of them keep their promise to keep it secret, in a few hundred years, the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk will truly become nothing more than empty legends."

"..."

The dance music in the center of the venue changed. Melvin looked up and saw a group of wizards and witches dancing. Among them were employees of the Ministry of Magic and famous wizards who were invited to attend the investiture ceremony.

The protagonist on the dance floor was a middle-aged wizard, Damocles Belby, another medal recipient.

He wore black-framed glasses on his nose, and his hairstyle was similar to Snape's, but not as greasy. It was fluffy and light, probably having been specially groomed for the awarding ceremony. He was wearing a light green dress robe, and his trousers were a bit baggy.

In fact, as early as the 70s, Belby had already made a prototype of wolfsbane potion, but the efficacy was very unstable, the side effects were serious, the raw materials were extremely expensive, and due to the turbulent background of that era, it had not been able to be promoted on a large scale.

After twenty years of optimization and adjustment, they invented a wolfsbane potion that could be promoted commercially. This had more economic value than solving the dragon egg theft case, and it made Belby the focus of the entire dinner.

Poor Belby, a potion master, was drunk to the point of having his face flushed. He was being led around in circles by the young witch from the Parkinson family, feeling dizzy. I wonder how much profit he would be promised from the wolfsbane potion.

Melvin shook his head: "When will it end?"

"Hmm... maybe two more hours," Dumbledore said with a smile. "The boring waiting will make the time even longer. Do you want me to introduce you to some old wizards?"

"Speaking of which, I do want to make some friends."

Melvin's gaze fell on the group of Ministry officials.

……

"Ms. Bones, may I have a dance with you?"

Melvin walked to the edge of the venue and asked the female director of the Law Enforcement Department who was standing in the corner.

"My pleasure, but rather than dancing, I'd rather find a quiet place and rest my ears for a while."

Amelia Bones was nearing middle age, so she certainly wouldn't have any strange thoughts. She smiled and said, "By the way, what does Professor Lewinter want to talk to me about?"

Melvin was not polite at all: "I want to visit Azkaban."

Chapter 161: Visiting Azkaban

White Ink Tavern, second floor.

The exquisite wine cabinet is basically placed against the wall. It is made of mahogany. Under the soft candlelight, the color is relatively soft and the texture is delicate. Various wine bottles are placed inside, some of which are brewed by wizards and some are collections purchased from the Muggle world.

Neatly dressed waiters occasionally passed by, carrying silver trays, their steps swift, without spilling a drop of wine.

Melvin took a glass, this time it was wine, with a rich aroma.

"Visit Azkaban?" Ms. Bones was surprised.

Melvin nodded, a smile perfectly curved across his face, showing nothing unusual. "I've been researching a topic lately, the similarities and differences between prisons around the world. I've visited many Muggle prisons, but the only wizarding prison I've seen is Woolworth's holding cell. Azkaban in Britain is very unique, employing Dementors as jailers. It's the only one of its kind in the world, and I'd like to see it up close."