A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts
Chapter 607: Mr. Bathsheda - (2)

"Don't worry, Albus. I've told him in my letter that times have changed, and his ideas are outdated unless he adapts. I'm willing to have a conversation with him. I just have one question: If he faces a severe setback, would he resort to indiscriminate killing? Like Voldemort?"

"Torturing Muggles for pleasure? No, he wouldn't. He only focuses on his goals, and he's an idealist. Sacrifices along the way, to him, are a necessary cost."

Dumbledore took off his glasses, rubbing his nose bridge. "I hope he can change. There were reports that he expressed regret when he was alone in Nurmengard, regretting his actions. I hope it's true. Otherwise—"

"The damage he could cause would far exceed Voldemort."

...

A week passed in the blink of an eye, and Felix finished digesting the manuscript Dumbledore handed to him.

During this time, the wizarding world remained calm. No magical ministry was invaded, and no one came forward to announce the reformation of the Order of the Phoenix. Everything was normal. Dumbledore went back to squabbling with representatives from various countries, discussing not only the losses caused by Voldemort but also how to deal with the threat of Grindelwald.

One morning, he visited Knockturn Alley and unexpectedly bumped into the Malfoy family at Snape's house. This disrupted Felix's plans because, from his understanding, Lucius would never speak the truth in front of so many people.

However, it wasn't entirely fruitless. In a conversation filled with subtle maneuvers, Felix roughly grasped the purpose of Lucius's visit—to establish connections with Snape, who was also a spy. Felix could even speculate that Lucius had visited more than one family, like the Selwyns, and other recently troubled pure-blood families.

If Felix opened his mouth, he could gain the loyalty of these people and become their nominal leader. As long as he didn't cross the families' bottom line, they would align with him. This condition was quite attractive—given Voldemort as a bad example, the pure-blood families' moral standards were exceptionally low.

But Felix had to give something in return, and it boiled down to one thing—his name. He had to allow these pure-blood families to mention his name.

This meant, at the very least, minimal protection.

Felix didn't refuse because at this moment, there needed to be someone like him. Mrs. Bones couldn't dominate forever, and she couldn't throw innocent people into prison. Giving these people a reassurance pill, preventing them from collectively fleeing abroad...

Felix could tolerate the Shafiq family, and Mrs. Bones should also tolerate pure-blood families that posed no threat.

"You haven't moved out of the safe house?" Felix asked with great interest.

"Not yet. We find it quite comfortable there," Lucius said vaguely.

Felix smirked inwardly. Lucius might be speaking the truth, but he might also have another purpose—to observe for a while. Lucius knew Voldemort wasn't dead.

"Well then, you can continue staying in that house. It's not like anyone else is using it."

Lucius continued the conversation on this topic. He talked about their life in that 'small house,' and his words sounded like he was experiencing life in a particularly harsh and impoverished rural area.

"We have too many things. Narcissa and I stored some in Gringotts, but there's still some left... These days, we're researching the Untraceable Expansion Charm to make the house more spacious while keeping it aesthetically pleasing... Draco, talk to the professor..."

Draco put down his fork and dryly said, "We blew up the floor—"

"Cough, cough, cough, cough!" Lucius coughed violently, glared at his son, and explained, "Narcissa and I aren't skilled with that spell because... because..."

"Not needed," Felix added.

"Yeah, right," Lucius said awkwardly.

Exiting Snape's house, Felix surveyed the surroundings. In the distance, a dirty river and a mountain of garbage brought a faint, unpleasant odor. Weeds grew wild, and abandoned buildings cast ominous shadows.

All of this made it challenging for him to sympathize with Malfoy's difficult life.

Severus seemed to share the same sentiments. As Lucius complained, Severus's face remained consistently sour.

Felix even regretted bringing out Dumbledore's vintage wine.

Only after mentioning that it was Dumbledore's prized collection did Snape reluctantly take half a glass. Lucius, on the other hand, drank quite enthusiastically.

In the afternoon, Felix strolled through his properties on the bustling streets of London. Accompanied by Winnie Valentin, they unexpectedly ran into Harry. However, this time, Harry wasn't with Sirius but with someone unfamiliar.

"Professor Harp," Harry greeted somberly. He had tried to act like he hadn't seen Felix, but the person next to him suddenly spoke loudly. Before he could react, he felt Professor Harp's gaze turning towards him.

Felix nodded at Harry. "Here to buy books?"

"Oh, no. I'm accompanying Mr. Bagshot to buy a wand. He recently moved here and lives alone. At his age, it's not very convenient," Harry explained. Actually, it was more than that. This old man must be very lonely, living in isolation because he wasn't familiar with many modern products. Lately, he had been catching up on lessons.

And his temperament was a bit extreme...

But when Harry learned his identity, he understood. Mr. Bagshot probably had some psychological issues, like a few problems with the old cannon.

"Bagshot," Felix pondered the surname.

He sensed a faint magical aura. Was this person a wizard? Did Dumbledore know? He extended his hand discreetly. "Hello, Mr. Bagshot, I'm Felix Harp."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Harp," Grindelwald reached out, and as their hands met, Felix felt a stagnant pool of magical energy, realizing – the mute one.

Grindelwald revealed his wand, hidden within the folds of his robes, and spoke courteously, "I must express my gratitude. Because of you, people like me can step back onto the stage of history."

Winnie Valentin, accompanying them, looked at him sympathetically.

She secretly thanked her luck for being fortunate enough to encounter the invention of the dedicated wand at such a young age. If, like this old man, she had been isolated from magic for so many years, it would have been painful, not to mention the power of a dedicated wand.

"Yes, we all sincerely appreciate Mr. Harp," she said emotionally.

They stood at the intersection and chatted briefly. Felix learned from Mr. Bagshot that he was taking the matter seriously because he had an interview scheduled for the afternoon.

"Good luck," Felix said.

"Thank you. I've been quite lucky lately," Grindelwald grinned.

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