Chapter 390: Seven Letters
Chapter 390: Seven Letters
The next day in Ancient Runes class, Felix was surprised by Harry and the others' distracted and absent-minded state. He wondered if he had put too much pressure on them and took the time to offer a few words of comfort after class.
In the evening, he received a letter by owl.
He opened the letter, and the envelope still carried a faint scent of men's perfume. The sender was the head of the British Ministry of Magic's Werewolf Registry—
‘Mr. Heap, greetings.
As of the first ten months of this year (early November), the number of registered werewolves in Britain has increased by 20% compared to last year. This is a cause for celebration within the department! This remarkable achievement is largely due to the promotion and effectiveness of the Wolfsbane Potion. I would like to thank Mr. Belby and Professor Snape for their outstanding contributions. I can confidently predict that within the next ten years, werewolves in Britain will be effectively controlled. At that time, I will submit a report to the Wizengamot to recommend that Professor Snape be awarded the Order of Merlin.
Regarding the disturbance at the Quidditch World Cup—defined as a disturbance by the Ministry of Magic—most of the masked wizards were from Pureblood Families. Their actions have brought shame to everyone. I can assure you and my family that we are not like those people.
Two of the masked wizards have been sentenced to three and six months in Azkaban, respectively. They admitted to being the main instigators of the incident—one suggested a parade in the campsite after getting drunk, and the other woke the poor Muggle family, the Roberts, using despicable means.
...
The other participants were fined heavily, but due to political obstacles, their names have been withheld. I know no more than what you can read in the newspapers. Only the names of the two main instigators are known to me—Alecto Carrow and Walton Macnair.’
Felix calmly put away the letter.
Over the next two days, owls flew in from all over the world, starting with those from Britain, then France, Europe, and finally other continents.
Felix opened the second letter, which came from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Felix had previously taken the time to train a group of healers, including this young healer—
‘Dear Mr. Heap, greetings!
This is our fifth correspondence, and I thank you for not laughing at my silly questions and for your generous answers.
Several patients diagnosed with incurable memory damage have mostly regained their sanity and can live independently. Five of them have been taken home by their families and only need to visit once a week. The other two, who are more severely affected, still require hospital observation. Please forgive our limitations; we have not been able to achieve the same level of recovery as the Longbottoms.
Regarding the matter you inquired about—this is true. Old Crabbe and Old Goyle suffered severe magical puncture wounds to their chests and abdomens, but they kept it secret. They managed to get a retired old healer to treat them through their connections. This healer happens to be my uncle, though I am reluctant to acknowledge our relationship in public—my uncle was once a skilled healer but had a severe drinking problem. During one potion-making session, he mistakenly used bad blood grass instead of ginger root. You can't imagine what the woman who came in for a skin rash ended up looking like... In any case, he left the hospital in disgrace, with scratch marks on his neck from a patient who had a sudden onset of mania.
I am enclosing the diagnosis report I obtained from my uncle in exchange for two pints of pure malt whiskey! That old nag!
Wishing you a pleasant life and a smooth workday.
Additionally, I have become good friends with your portraits in the hospital. I asked one of my painter patients to paint a candy house on the portraits, and he really enjoyed it!
Also, I have collected newspaper clippings of your appearances at the Quidditch World Cup, which are on my desk.’
The third letter came from the Ministry of Magic, unsigned, with a long list of over thirty names. Felix carefully read through the list, memorized the names, and a mocking smile appeared on his face.
The fourth letter was from Damocles Belby. The writing was rather messy, and the envelope still carried the scent of potions—
‘Felix,
If not for your reminder, I might have overlooked the issue with the Wolfsbane Potion. Forgive me for focusing on other potions recently...
After your reminder, I specifically went to the Extraordinary Potion-Makers Association to investigate. Currently, the Wolfsbane Potion, which is authorized by the Ministry of Magic, is selling steadily. The Ministry has recruited a group of werewolves to do menial and dirty work, but it’s definitely better than before... There are still a significant number of stubborn werewolves living in hiding in the countryside, and no one knows their exact movements, not even among themselves. They might be in Britain today and cross the Channel to France tomorrow...
According to my understanding, other European countries have approached the Extraordinary Potion-Makers Association, hoping to facilitate a connection and persuade the British Ministry of Magic to share the Wolfsbane Potion formula, especially the version that Severus and I improved. Fudge has been busy with this matter, always out of sight—this is what the vice president of the Potion-Makers Association told me, and the public is not yet aware.
There is one more thing worth sharing.
When I visited the vice president, I met my former Dean, Professor Slughorn. He still enjoys life to the fullest. When I gently advised him to eat less candy and preserves, he told me that it was the greatest pleasure of his life.’
The fifth letter came from Auror Maxwell Colbert of France.
He and Felix had an interaction during the previous summer break, when a misunderstanding occurred, but after it was resolved, they became good friends.
‘Dear Felix Hepworth,
I am very happy to receive your letter.
If you want to know about the security situation in France, there’s no one better to ask than an Auror on the front lines. I can only say that it’s the same as always... those dark corners, I can’t understand why you’re interested in them. Are you planning to write a book?
To be honest, I haven’t really read your previous Muggle-themed books. When the Ministry issued them, I casually threw them into a drawer. I only discovered them when I was cleaning up recently. A bag of Kneazle food inside had decayed. I also found your book, which solved a mystery for me. When my nephew reported a suspicious person at a French Muggle university, I thought your name sounded familiar. I might have mistaken you for some foreign Dark Wizard...
Getting back to the main topic. The werewolves in France are relatively stable and have no plans to migrate—though I wish they would. Of course, not necessarily to Britain, moving south or north would be fine too (please don’t publish this part of the letter, or it will cause me trouble). Additionally, the vampires and Dark Wizards are fighting over a mine in southern France. I told my informant to wait and see, and perhaps by the next time we meet, I will be the head of the Auror Office.
Also, my nephew Calami has chosen to become an Auror and is currently learning from me. When I was writing this letter, he was peeking over my shoulder and I had to shoo him away.
Finally, the photos from the Quidditch World Cup are really cool.”
The sixth letter came from the head of the Muggle Affairs Division of the Swiss Ministry of Magic.
“Felix, I am very pleased to receive your letter. Your suggestions from last time were very constructive, and I made a few modifications before submitting them. They are now running smoothly, and I am amazed at what else might be in your head...
I saw the photos reprinted from the British Daily Prophet. I can hardly believe that such a serious incident occurred at the World Cup. If it had been handled by us, such chaos would never have happened.
Regarding your question, I learned from a colleague that the Giant Tribe is still hiding in the deep mountains, with no signs of migration. Of course, I can’t be 100% certain. If the observers get too close, the giants will charge at them and throw stones.
I have attached the address of the Giant Tribe. If you plan to explore, please be extremely careful.’
On Friday morning, while Felix was eating breakfast, he received the last letter. It was from Lucius Malfoy, and it was the shortest, with no greeting or farewell, just a time and a place.
‘November 4th, Friday at 11 PM, meet at the highest peak outside Hogwarts.’
He casually erased the words and spread a layer of jam on his bread. He still had a full day of classes ahead.
(End of Chapter)
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