Chapter 1057
Special Envoy
Chapter 1057 Special Envoy
As evening fell, Hogwarts was shrouded in a pale gray sky, and warm yellow lights lit up one by one in the castle windows.
The train slowly pulled into the station. A night breeze swept across the lake, carrying a damp, fishy smell, and many people shivered in unison.
As soon as Vader stepped off the carriage, a rough voice pierced the darkness from afar:
"Kids, come this way! The carriages are up ahead, don't push... Hey kid, keep an eye on your cat!"
As dusk fell, Hagrid's towering figure resembled a moving hill, with his hound, Tooth, circling excitedly at his feet.
He held a limp cat between two fingers, and a Gryffindor student rushed over, took the cat from Hagrid, and gave him an embarrassed smile.
Wade followed the throng of people toward the carriages. As he passed Hagrid, he heard Luna's somewhat ethereal voice:
"Professor Hagrid, you are injured."
The blonde girl looked up at Hagrid, her silver-grey eyes fixed intently on his face, and asked:
"Were you gored by those long-haired tapirs when you were taming them in the wilderness?"
Wade turned his head and saw that in the dim light, Hagrid's face was mostly covered by his unkempt beard, but the bruises were still visible.
He had dark circles around his eyes, a long, scabbed gash on his cheekbone, and his nose was noticeably more swollen than usual.
Hearing Luna's words, Hagrid paused for a moment, then asked in confusion, "What about the wasteland?"
He touched his face, his mouth twitched in pain, and then said in a nonchalant tone:
"Oh, this... it's nothing, it's nothing. Getting injured is inevitable when dealing with magical creatures like me!"
"Come on, kids, get on the bus! Don't get stuck in traffic here!"
Hagrid waved his enormous hand as if to herd everyone onto the carriage.
Luna nodded thoughtfully, and the surrounding students also withdrew their curious gazes.
Indeed, compared to Professor Kettleburn, who once only had one and a half limbs left, Hagrid's injuries were negligible.
Wade was somewhat surprised—Hagrid's ability to cover up the truth had become remarkably sophisticated!
The crowd began to move slowly again.
As the carriage creaked and groaned, the students finally returned to the warm castle.
Some of the younger students didn't know how to use spells, and when they got off the bus, their eyelashes were covered in frost, and they were shivering in the cold wind.
Fortunately, the Great Hall at Hogwarts never disappoints its students.
Countless floating candles cast a soft glow throughout the space, making the air so warm that one couldn't help but sigh. On the four long academic tables, the tableware was set out and gleamed silver.
"Ryan! Over here!" Someone waved from the Hufflepuff table.
“Michael, did you receive my owl during the holidays?” several girls in Ravenclaw asked enthusiastically.
Some people even went up to Wade and loudly thanked him for the tickets to the miniature world he had given them.
Students took their seats in twos and threes, their greetings, laughter, and the sound of chairs being dragged together creating the unique liveliness of the school.
Wade walked through the aisle between the long tables, his gaze sweeping over the teachers' section.
Dumbledore sat behind the long table in the center, his half-moon spectacles perched on his nose, his long, silvery beard gleaming softly in the candlelight.
He smiled kindly as he watched the students walk into the auditorium in a disorderly fashion, as if he had always been there.
Wade was somewhat surprised; he had assumed Dumbledore would be busy in Kosovo at this time. But it seemed the start of the school year had brought him back across half of Europe.
Then Wade saw another person.
To Dumbledore's left sat a familiar-looking young man.
His fiery red hair was meticulously combed, with every stray strand held firmly in place by hair gel, revealing a smooth forehead—just like Barty Crouch back in the day.
The brand-new, deep blue robe was well-tailored and made of superior material, which reflected an exceptionally smooth luster under the light.
He also wore a shining badge on his left breast, which he would adjust from time to time so that it reflected an undeniable light in the candlelight.
That was Percy Weasley. He sat upright, his back straight, his chin slightly raised, his gaze slowly sweeping over the students who were taking their seats at the four long tables, with a scrutinizing, evaluative look.
Even across the table, Wade could hear the twins' deliberately mocking voices.
But Percy seemed not to hear at all; his lips maintained a perfectly polite smile, as straight and measured as if it had been measured with a ruler.
Vader withdrew his gaze, took a step away from the empty seat, and quietly moved to the front of the Ravenclaw table.
As he sat down, he could just hear voices drifting from the teachers' section—
"As far as I know, the last renovation of Hogwarts' fireplaces was in the 14th century, while the plumbing system is the result of a unified renovation in the 18th century."
Percy raised his chin slightly, as if it were his first time at Hogwarts, and said in a businesslike manner:
"Forgive my bluntness, but these systems are outdated. Moreover, they haven't undergone professional security assessments in nearly a century, posing significant risks."
“You make a very good point, Mr. Weasley. Thank you for your concern for student safety.”
Dumbledore said politely, even with a hint of approval, "I will have Mr. Filch check the firewood in the fireplace to see if there is any tendency for it to spontaneously combust."
"There's a broken washroom on the second floor of the castle. I wonder if the Ministry of Magic could send someone to repair it?"
Percy's smile froze, and he blurted out, "Isn't that because of Myrtle?"
Then, under Dumbledore's calm gaze, his face turned as red as if it were on fire.
Percy coughed twice, then turned to the other side.
Professor McGonagall sat there, her deep disappointment and anger making her lips purse into a straight line, causing the Gryffindors to lower their voices by eight octaves.
"Vice Principal McGonagall."
Percy said very politely, "The Ministry of Magic believes that the vetting of Hogwarts' faculty qualifications should be strengthened."
"Your qualifications are certainly impeccable, but as far as I know, some subjects—such as Defense Against the Dark Arts—have seen frequent personnel changes in recent years, and several professors have even committed serious crimes during their tenure and ended up in Azkaban."
"The department hopes to understand the school's long-term plans for this position, as well as Hogwarts' procedures and regulations for admitting Defense Against the Dark Arts professors."
"As you know... we must be cautious, given the precedent set by Iphamoni."
"Faculty and staff are the group that knows the most about student information, so they are the focus of our investigation..."
Percy was talking non-stop when Frank Longbottom, at the other end of the long table, looked over with a frown, his usually gentle face losing its smile.
His wife, Alice, quietly took his hand to calm him down.
Professor McGonagall slowly turned her head, her gaze as sharp as an ice blade fixed on Percy's face.
She hadn't spoken yet, but the silence itself was enough to send shivers down the spines of all the Gryffindors.
Percy's smile tightened slightly, and he quickly added:
"Of course, I fully understand that schools have their own unique operating rules, and we'll talk about that later."
"On another note—"
His gaze swept over the many students in the auditorium, and a smile curved his lips as he said:
"Returning to school is truly an emotional experience."
"I never expected that I would see this scene of the start of school again so soon—as a special envoy from the Ministry of Magic."
"It was quite a coincidence, actually. It was because of my contributions to the Peter Pedirou case that Minister Sinkness noticed me. That period was really tough; I worked overtime until the early hours of the morning for several weeks in a row to organize the case files and clues..."
He said it very modestly.
Professor McGonagall's lips twitched slightly, while Snape let out a snort from deep within his nose without even lifting his eyelids.
(End of this chapter)