A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts
Chapter 629: Tail Tracking Mission

Chapter 629: Tail Tracking Mission

Ron looked visibly shocked; he nervously whispered, "Who are you? A Death Eater? Dark wizard?"

There was no sound from behind. Ron swallowed hard, turned his head slightly, but the wand pressed against his waist jabbed him fiercely, immediately restraining any movement.

He stammered, "I mean—you might not be aware of a problem. If I die, you won't get away. I'm a Second Level Order of Merlin recipient—about to become First Level, and also an official member of the Anti-Dark Arts Association. I'm one of Dumbledore and Professor Snape's favorite students, the famous Harry Potter's close friend."

A sinister laugh sounded from behind.

"I certainly know who you are," a voice, hoarse as if being choked, replied.

Ron felt a bit relieved, then suddenly his right hand's back stung sharply. "Quit the tricks," the voice said, and Ron's hand, reaching into his pocket, froze.

"Come with me!"

Ron's body was dragged to the side, and in the corner of his eye, Tonks' clumsy figure disappeared. His eyes dimmed, realizing they were in a dimly lit narrow alley. He was roughly pushed against the wall.

"Exactly," Ron said, his voice now calm.

"Oh, you're unlucky, witnessing something you shouldn't—" the voice said playfully.

Ron suddenly felt confident.

"Ah, I don't think so."

"Honest! You—"

Distorted magical power suddenly appeared on Ron's body. The wand behind him was forced to move away. The twisted magic clawed and scratched, but it rapidly inflated like an air-filled plastic bag, ballooning into a round shape, making a rustling noise in the narrow alley.

Ron lifted his wand, turned around leisurely (even fixing his hair midway), and jeered at the person hit by the spell on the opposite wall, revealing half of their face.

"You look quite disheveled, Collins," his tone full of schadenfreude.

"Think you're cool?" Collins snapped, "Hurry up and let me out!" Her face was distorted by Ron's magic, and her voice was muffled.

Ron suppressed a laugh and dispelled the spell.

"Ironclad Hex?" Collins asked, straightening up against the wall, rubbing her face.

"Haha, my first mastered silent spell. Lucky you."

Ron tapped his palm with the wand, and sparks flew, a smug expression on his face.

Collins walked out of the alley, fuming.

"Hey, don't go. What's going on?" Ron followed, questioning. "I saw Tonks... that person, was it her? I deduced it from her actions."

"It's her," Collins confirmed. As they left the alley, she glanced around, "Never mind, let's find a place to rest for a while. It's been freezing these days, and that old lady keeps wandering around... I suspect it's intentional."

They headed towards three broomsticks.

"Who are you talking about?" Ron asked curiously.

"Carlotta Pinkstone," Collins said. "She just got out of Azkaban recently. Tonks and I are responsible for tailing her."

"Is she a criminal?" Ron asked in surprise. "She isn't—"

"No, not like you think. She's not related to the recent Dark Wizard trials," Collins explained. As they picked a window-side seat in Three Broomsticks, Madam Rosmerta approached them, "What can I get you, dears? Oh, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron, in a low voice, said slowly, "I need a hot firewhisky, and for this lady—"

"Are you of age?" Collins looked at him suspiciously.

Ron coughed violently, his face turning red. He glared at her, "Just under five months, if you must know!" Madam Rosmerta chuckled, emitting a charming aura. "A hot firewhisky, sure," she said calmly, "And for you, miss?"

"I don't need anything," Collins said stiffly.

"She can't drink; she's on duty—ouch!" Ron, in pain, gasped as he withdrew his stepped-on toe. Angrily, he told Madam Rosmerta, "Excuse me, bring her something non-alcoholic, like soda."

"I recommend pear juice soda," the barmaid suggested.

"That's fine," Ron said, looking at Collins, who didn't object. When Madam Rosmerta left, he couldn't resist lowering his voice, "About that Carlotta—"

"Carlotta!"

"Alright, Carlotta," Ron shrugged, "What crime did she commit? Why are you two tailing her? Honestly, I don't think Tonks is cut out for close surveillance work unless..."

"Unless we had no intention of hiding in the first place," Collins gave Ron an approving look.

Ron widened his eyes. He was about to say "unless the person giving orders had lost their mind," but he wasn't going to admit that unless his own mind was also malfunctioning. So, he played along, "Yeah, exactly! That's what I was thinking. Spill the details!"

"She's an activist..."

Collins spoke slowly in the warm, faintly fragrant pub. As time passed, the glasses in front of them were emptied, and Collins stood up, putting on her scarf. "I'm leaving to replace Tonks. Oh, and if you see Cedric, say hi for me. I saw him with his girlfriend earlier."

"You can't say it yourself?" Ron grumbled discontentedly.

"I've got a mission." Collins smiled, covering her face, leaving only her eyes visible. "Well, I must say, your reactions today were quite impressive. Looking forward to having you as my new colleague."

"Got it, got it." Ron's ears turned slightly red, revealing his self-proclaimed noble and profound demeanor as he spoke slowly.

As dusk approached, young wizards from Hogwarts emerged from all directions, heading back to the school. The doors of Three Broomsticks swung open, and a woman in a dark green double-breasted coat entered. She was no longer young, but traces of her past beauty and elegance were still evident on her face.

Madam Rosmerta approached her.

"Welcome, dear guest. Please come in. What can I get you?"

The woman didn't rush to answer. She took off her pointed hat, revealing short gray-white hair. After scanning the room, she said, "Prepare a secluded room for me. I plan to stay the night."

"Of course, madam," Madam Rosmerta replied, "Anything else?"

"I might be receiving someone tonight, so don't disturb me. I don't need any services other than accommodation. Understand?"

"Oh, um, alright," Madam Rosmerta hesitated, "According to the Ministry of Magic regulations, we need to register names for accommodations..."

"Sure," the woman said, "You can call me... Nicole Noll."

As night fell, the stars twinkled outside the window. The woman sat in a chair in the room, patiently waiting. She had maintained this posture for some time, hands intertwined, eyes flickering with memories.

Had the Hogwarts student delivered the letter? Would he keep the appointment? Why hadn't he contacted them after escaping? Was he disillusioned, thinking that after that incident, no one acknowledged his unwavering dominance...

"Knock, knock!"

The woman stood up excitedly. Fortunately, she hadn't lost her composure. "Is it you?" she asked in a trembling voice.

There was no response from outside.

Her heart sank, and she quickly drew her wand, pointing it at the door. "Who's outside?" she demanded, her voice now filled with cold indifference and menace.

"Felix Harp," a young voice outside the door said, "A certain lady who goes by 'Nicole Noll,' bold enough to pay a visit. Can we chat downstairs?" As the voice spoke, the surrounding air seemed to solidify, forming an indivisible whole.

The woman decisively raised her wand, a burst of fire shooting out. Then, she tried to perform Apparition.

"Bang!"

The door shattered into pieces, and the fire directly blasted a large hole in the wall. The woman's figure disappeared at the last second, but she was quickly thrown out. The surroundings were desolate, with black stone shadows and rustling trees. The night's chill penetrated through the icy ground to the woman. She shivered and got up from the ground.

Nicole Noll, from the corner of her eye, saw a cluster of lights. It was the village of Hogsmeade.

Exhaling the cold that had solidified in her chest, she roughly determined her location—just outside Hogsmeade. Then, she focused on the young man who had appeared silently in front of her. Moonlight illuminated his excessively young face, outlining his handsome features.

"Felix Harp?"

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