Chapter 383: Help [Part 2]
Chapter 383: Help [Part 2]
Dumbledore crossed his arms over his abdomen and lowered his eyes in deep thought.
Vold continued, "I don't know if my suspicions about Professor Abigail are right or wrong, but I know... those guys are coveting the puppet's technology. And so far, among those who have shown unusual interest in the puppet, this professor is the most suspicious."
Is it necessary to use puppets for Dark Arts Defense lessons?
Of course not. Many beasts can be found in the Forbidden Forest or the Black Lake. If all else fails, Hagrid can still get them, and real beasts can teach students more.
Even if it's because Professor Abigail has a unique teaching style, with her personality, she should be going to the Forbidden Forest to catch a few Red Hats and give the students a "surprise" instead of asking Vold to help make teaching props.
Of course, the main reason Vold had doubts was primarily because she was the professor for this cursed class.
This cursed course had an incredibly strong attraction for all sorts of problematic individuals, and no one had ever lasted a full year in this position.
Of course, Abigail was neither a vampire nor a werewolf, and there was no evidence linking her to the former two, which was also why Vold and Dumbledore were still uncertain.
...
The howling wind and rolling thunder filled the room, and through the window, one could see the giant raindrops pelting the glass.
This made Michael feel very troubled as he woke up. He sat in the common room with his messy hair, gazing at the terrible weather outside, his eyes devoid of focus.
Hearing footsteps on the spiral staircase, Michael turned and saw Vold.
"Good morning, Vold," Michael said. "With this weather, do you think the Quidditch match will go ahead as planned?"
"Hmm?" Vold asked, puzzled. "Has a school match ever been canceled due to the weather?"
He genuinely didn't understand the detailed rules in this regard.
Michael sighed, "No... I don't want to miss the match, and I don't want to get soaked either."
"Bring an umbrella," Vold said briefly.
Michael pouted, "With this heavy rain, even an umbrella won't be of much use."
Vold spread his hands, "Then I can't do anything. Either you watch the match in the rain or give up on the match and stay comfortably in the common room. You have to choose one."
He knew Michael was just complaining, and in the end, he would still choose to watch the match because he was a seasoned Quidditch fan, even though his own skills weren't impressive.
Sure enough, even though Michael sighed and seemed to want to sink into the sofa in front of the fireplace, when Vold was ready to leave, he still followed along while complaining.
"Vold, can the Weather-Changing Charm change this terrible weather?"
"Yes."
"Then can you..."
"No. The Weather-Changing Charm can alter the weather, but my spell isn't powerful enough to make such a large-scale change."
"Sigh... Vold, did you forget to bring an umbrella?"
"I don't need one—I'm not planning to watch the match."
Michael became even more sullen.
The two soon arrived at the Great Hall, and Michael's spirits suddenly lifted—because he saw someone even more unfortunate than himself.
The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams had already arrived for breakfast, and both sides were trying to stare each other down across the long table.
Michael felt that getting a little wet wasn't a big deal when he thought about these people going to play in the storm later.
Caril was also at the Gryffindor table, sitting next to Harry and gesturing animatedly as he spoke.
"Hey, if you can't see clearly, others won't be able to either. It'll be a test of eyesight then..."
"Thanks, Caril," Harry said with a bitter expression. "My eyesight is probably the worst on both teams."
As he spoke, he pushed up his glasses.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about! Why not turn your glasses into waterproof binoculars? It would be even better if they could automatically track the Golden Snitch! It would lock onto the game!"
Harry stared at him, feeling ashamed as he was tempted.
But soon, he snapped out of it and shook his head, "No, that's definitely against the rules!"
"Oh come on, with this heavy rain, who can tell that your glasses are different from usual? Everyone knows you usually wear glasses..."
Caril was halfway through his persuasion when he saw Vold and Michael enter. He excitedly waved his arm in greeting and, without any hesitation, sat down at the Ravenclaw table and shared his idea with Vold.
"You agree, right? It makes perfect sense, doesn't it?"
"Equipment is part of the game too!" Carrel argued passionately.
Michael nodded in agreement but hesitated, "Although... but... if the professor finds out, we might be disqualified..."
"Hey, let's worry about that later!" Carrel enthusiastically asked, "Vold, can you make a telescope that looks like regular glasses?"
Vold swallowed his toast and replied, "I can, but there's no need... Give me that plate of boiled beans you have there."
"This?" Carrel passed the plate of boiled beans.
Vold tapped it with his wand, and the beans inside lined up and drilled out, leaving only the empty pod.
Then, he transformed a pile of bean pods into the shape of windproof goggles and added a waterproof charm.
"Take these," Vold said. "These goggles will last until tomorrow morning at least."
Carrel cheered, "Great, Vold! You're our savior!"
He rushed back to the Gryffindor long table with the goggles and shared the news with Wood and the others. The Gryffindor team was thrilled, and they gestured their gratitude towards Vold.
"Put them away! All of you, put them away!" As the Weasley twins were about to put on the goggles, Wood quickly intervened, "These are our secret weapon. Don't let the Slytherins find out!"
The Gryffindors nodded solemnly and hid the goggles in their pockets, glancing at the Slytherin long table with confident smiles.
Two extra goggles were left, so Carrel kept one for himself and gave the other to Michael, saying happily, "Now we can watch the game without worrying about rain getting into our eyes!"
Carrel ran back to the Gryffindor long table and mingled with the team, as if he were one of them. Michael whispered to Vold,
"I think I understand why this transfer student is so popular in Gryffindor. He's so enthusiastic about helping others, it's natural that everyone wants to be friends with him."
"Mhm."
Vold nodded. He remembered that when they were younger, Carrel had many friends, more than Vold.
A fragrant aroma wafted by—Padma walked past them without a glance and sat at the far end of the long table.
Michael's smile faded, and he fiddled with the steak on his plate, as if he hadn't noticed anything.
Vold sighed and tapped Michael's umbrella with his wand.
"I cast a spell on your umbrella. When you open it, it will be large enough to shelter two people and won't be affected by the strong wind."
Vold said, "Take this opportunity to reconcile with Padma... Your current situation is making others uncomfortable too."
Michael nodded silently.
...
After breakfast, students began to make their way to the Quidditch pitch, and the wind and rain remained fierce. Many umbrellas were swept away by the strong winds along the way.
Despite this, the students preferred to get soaked and battle the wind rather than return to the warm and dry common room.
Vold headed towards the Room of Requirement alone.
Although he already had the communication earpiece, he hadn't stopped improving the Companion Ledger. It was almost ready for completion.
In its current state, the Companion Ledger's profits were already meager, and the market was further squeezed by the abundance of counterfeit products.
However, Vold believed that no matter how convenient the communication earpiece was, the Companion Ledger would always have a place for its existence.
Even if, in the future, a mobile phone-like product appeared in the wizarding world, and the Companion Ledger had to exit the historical stage, Vold hoped its departure would be graceful rather than being forgotten like an abandoned project.
"Bang!"
A heavy object suddenly slammed into a nearby window, startling Vold. He looked up and saw a disheveled owl perched outside the window, staring at him with round eyes.
Vold waved his hand, and the closed window suddenly swung open. The owl flew in, accompanied by the wind and heavy rain!
The icy cold wind instantly blew Vold's robe, and he waved his hand to close the window while catching the messenger that had fallen from the sky.
The owl was weak and cold, shivering from the cold. It was exhausted and collapsed, but it still managed to lift its claw and pass a small cylinder tied to it to Vold.
Vold took the cylinder, recited a spell, and waved his palm over the owl.
The icy rain vanished, and its body became warm again.
The owl looked around in surprise and then noticed a small pile of owl food in front of it, immediately lowering its head to eat.
Voldemort finally took out the letter from the cylinder.
Inside was a long, narrow strip of white paper. He rubbed it with his fingers, feeling the rough texture, similar to parchment, but lacking its unique smoothness.
Voldemort had a vague realization.
This must be a counterfeit version of the Companion Ledger.
Voldemort, with his owl, found an empty classroom, sat down, and repeatedly inspected it with his wand several times before writing a "?" on it.
He didn't rashly write down his name.
After nearly half a minute, a messy line of words finally appeared—
【Help! Help me! He】
Voldemort stared at the hastily-ended "He," unsure if it was an unfinished plea for help or referring to a specific "he."
He wrote: 【Calm down. Who are you? What kind of help do you need? Why are you seeking me?】
After a while, new, crooked words appeared on the paper:
【I'm the one you gave the Invisibility Cloak to—I'm the beetle with glasses—please help me—besides you, I don't know who else to turn to—】
...
【Besides you, I don't know who else to turn to—】
The messy words appeared on the parchment.
This was a bright, clean room with a ceiling over ten meters high and huge semi-transparent glass walls. A shark slowly swam by behind the glass wall.
At the curved long table, a woman in red interpreted, "The handwriting is shaky, inconsistent, and uneven in size, with no sense of layout—the person writing is very scared and panicked. It seems that the woman didn't escape."
Beside her, a man with a ponytail revealed a hideous smile.
"It's better if she's still on the island! Re-inspect the entire place; we must find that person!"
"Yes!"
The black-clad guards behind him responded in unison and immediately took action.
"It sounds like she's looking for help from a wizard friend. Should we cut off the signal transmission?"
Another short and stout man with glasses asked.
"Cut it off? No, let them come!" The ponytail man coldly laughed, "I've been worried about not having enough experimental materials!"
He walked to the wall, pressed a button, and a huge metal door silently slid open, revealing a metal platform behind the wall.
The man stepped onto it, holding the railing and looking down.
Below him was a laboratory like an assembly line factory. Dozens of researchers in white lab coats were busy, and everything in the room was orderly yet progressing rapidly. All the researchers had the same dead and indifferent gaze, and conveyor belts on the ceiling and floor moved quietly.
Occasionally, a streak of blood would appear on the conveyor belt, but it was quickly washed away by a thin stream of water, leaving only the faint smell of disinfectant in the room.
The man's mouth curled in disdain.
"Wizards? Under the influence of technology, they're just a bunch of medieval clowns."
...
"Buzz—"
The strange buzzing sound suddenly rang out again, and Rita Skeeter painfully curled up, almost unable to stop herself from screaming.
She bit her smelly blanket, hugged herself, and trembled on the old bed. Her muscles and bones felt as if they were being gnawed at by countless ants, and the pain was almost unbearable.
She endured with all her might, not knowing how much time had passed or even if she was still alive. She couldn't help but cry, tears and mucus flowing freely.
After what felt like a century, the torment finally stopped.
When Rita Skeeter regained sensation in her body, she found a pair of small hands supporting her face, and someone was gently wiping away the dirt from her face with a worn handkerchief.
She opened her eyes and saw the person who had saved her once again.
In the small cell, over a dozen children, both boys and girls, were crammed together. The oldest was thirteen, and the youngest was only four.
They wore loose white robes, without underwear or shoes, their bare feet on the ground. Their complexions were pale from long periods without sunlight.
The thirteen-year-old girl was the one wiping Rita's face.
Rita trembled and asked softly, "Are those people... gone?"
The girl nodded vigorously, seemingly to reassure her, and she even smiled faintly at Rita.
Rita's tears almost fell.
She sniffed and said, "Hold on a little longer. Someone will come to rescue us; they definitely will!"
Rita looked down at the crumpled paper in her hand, and there was only one sentence on it—
【Where are you?】
(End of Chapter)
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