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Chapter 541: A Letter from Nurmengard
Chapter 541: A Letter from Nurmengard
As Ginny asked her question, Mafalda's attention turned to her for the first time. The two girls, one tall and one short, sized each other up.
Harry noticed that both girls bore a resemblance to Mrs. Weasley, with their reddish hair, but they were quite different. Ginny's hair was like fire, making her the most recognizable among the Weasley family's seven children. Most of the time, she didn't give people an intimidating look—except now, when she seemed like a turkey suddenly told it was going to be the main course, ruffled and agitated.
"I've met Aunt Molly, but only once", Mafalda said. "But I saw your dad more often. He took me to Diagon Alley to buy some things in advance. He even gave me an owl. I wrote to him when I got back, and he replied frequently at first, but then it slowed down."
"Maybe because he was busy, or you asked too many questions", Ginny said, her words measured.
"Maybe, but I don't need him to show me around. I can do it on my own", Mafalda replied. "I convinced my parents to let me go to Diagon Alley, to get to know the Wizarding World, as they say."
"I'm interested in everything in Diagon Alley. Old Tom at the Leaky Cauldron has no teeth, but his food is delicious. When I asked Madam Malkin about her marital status, she kicked me out... I also convinced the clerk at Flourish and Blotts to let me sit in the corner and read. I love 'Simple Spells for Muggle-Baiting' and Gilderoy Lockhart's seven-part adventure series. I picked a few spells from the former to learn, and they work quite well. The latter opened my eyes..."
"Wait a minute!" Harry felt her statements were beyond absurd, and he wasn't the only one. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all shouted in unison. Mafalda glared at them, and the scene was rather comical. They all exchanged awkward glances.
"Okay, let's take it one at a time", Hermione sighed. From the moment this girl approached her, claiming to have major information about the Death Eaters, she knew this wasn't a typical student. Indeed, they were all shocked.
She looked at Mafalda and asked patiently, "Miss Prewett, Mr. Weasley must have told your parents that the magical world is not safe. How did you convince them to let you go to Diagon Alley alone?" She really wanted to blame Mafalda's parents for being irresponsible.
"They don't get along much", Mafalda indicated herself and Ginny, gesturing to their families. "My dad and Aunt Molly are relatives, but their relationship isn't good, which is evident from their stiff conversations—"
"That's what I was going to say", Ron interjected. Everyone looked at him, and he swallowed hard, speaking softly, "Mom does have a distant cousin, but the family doesn't mention him much..."
"My dad is a Squib, though he refuses to admit it. He works as an accountant and occasionally trades stocks. My mom is a Muggle, and they had no ties to the magical world before me", Mafalda added.
"But—", Hermione hesitated, "even so, Mr. Weasley wouldn't have let you go without a warning—"
"Oh, that's easy. I told my parents that someone was waiting for me behind the door at the Leaky Cauldron. That someone was Bill Weasley, and I knew he worked in Diagon Alley", Mafalda said with a smug glance.
Hermione looked shocked. Ginny let out an angry, cat-like hiss.
"So you were lying?"
Mafalda shrugged, the answer obvious.
The abandoned classroom was quiet for a moment. Harry asked, "Do you know that Lockhart is a—a—"
"A fraud?" Mafalda asked. Harry nodded. She said calmly, "I like the way he tells stories, that's all."
The interrogation ended there. Even though Ron and Ginny didn't like Mafalda, they reluctantly accepted this relative.
"What's your purpose today?" Ginny asked stiffly, her face hard. "You should know that Gryffindor and Slytherin are mortal enemies. If someone finds out—"
"That's why I came secretly", Mafalda said unpleasantly, pulling out a green notebook from her pocket—Harry recognized it as a Muggle product from some details. She flipped to a page but didn't show it to them, keeping it in front of her. "I can provide you with information about Slytherin and the Death Eaters... in exchange—"
"Death Eaters?" Harry, Ron, and Ginny exclaimed in unison.
They looked at Hermione, who quickly waved her hands. "I don't know any more than you do. She—uh—" Hermione realized the problem: a Muggle-born girl who knew nothing about the magical world before now—what information could she have?
"What's wrong?" Mafalda looked at them curiously. "Is it hard to understand? Let me continue—of course, I won't do this for free. As a condition, you have to be the main characters in my story."
Harry looked at her, confused. What was she talking about?
"Main characters in what?"
"Main characters in my story", Mafalda wagged her finger at him. "Didn't I tell you? I love history and writing. You know Bathilda Bagshot, right?"
Harry nodded reluctantly. He knew this person, an outstanding historian, whose book was now used as the textbook for the History of Magic class. She had retired and now lived in Godric's Hollow. Godric's Hollow… His heart tightened.
Mafalda didn't notice Harry's unease and continued, "Bathilda Bagshot wrote The History of Magic, and there's a quote I particularly agree with: 'The greatest happiness for a historian is to converse with history itself.'"
"Do you understand what that means?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"I am doing that right now", Mafalda said.
Ron pondered for a moment, then slowly said, "So you want to write us into your story? Hmm—didn't you say you like Lockhart's books?" He gave them a meaningful look, "Think about it."
"Harry would never agree!" Ginny raised her eyebrows, looking uncertainly at Harry, "Right?"
"Of course." Harry nodded resolutely. He didn't want to be followed around by a tag-along, the Creevey brothers were already enough of a nuisance. He firmly told Mafalda, "Sorry, I have a lot on my plate this year—O.W.L.s exams, Quidditch, clubs… I don't have time for pretend games."
Mafalda blinked. Just as Harry thought she was about to give up, she lowered her head and stared at the open notebook, reading out the names: "Nott, Avery, Goyle, Crabbe, Malfoy… Well, he's not sure, should I continue?"
Harry's mouth opened wide, and Ron's wasn't far behind. Hermione looked equally shocked.
Mafalda stared at their faces and smiled.
"Looks like I'm right, then?"
"How did you guess—" Harry struggled to say. These names were ones he had heard Voldemort mention in the graveyard. Each of these surnames held significant influence in the wizarding world, yet they had groveled before Voldemort, kissing his robes for forgiveness.
Sirius Black told him that without evidence, the Ministry of Magic couldn't arrest anyone and could only monitor them. Of course, Sirius's original words were more heated, "Amelia won't agree to pumping them full of Veritaserum…" After calming down, he admitted the idea was impractical, "Unless we want to cause chaos in the wizarding world, and if we did, we'd have to arrest ourselves first…" He said grimly, "That's how Purebloods work, one leads to a chain."
Mafalda smiled like a fox, "The Prewett name is unexpectedly intimidating, and unlike the Weasleys, it doesn't attract as much attention. So, you see, I would make an excellent spy, for… for the cause of justice, how about it?"
"I don't agree", Harry said slowly.
"Why?" Mafalda asked, surprised. She never expected to be refused even after demonstrating her capabilities.
"Harry, if a Slytherin student is willing to help us, even—" Ron began.
"No." Harry said, "No." He repeated, "What if she's discovered?"
"Don't worry", Mafalda interjected, "From my observations over the past month, Slytherin House is not as it's rumored to be…"
"Do you know what you're getting into? You'll be facing not just the bad students, but real Death Eaters! If a Slytherin student mentions you to their family or starts investigating you… will your cleverness still work?" Harry glared at her, a wave of inexplicable anger rising in him, "You're putting your family in danger, and they can't even do magic."
Mafalda pointed at Hermione defiantly, "From what I know, her family situation isn't much different from mine."
Hermione remained silent.
"Because she doesn't have a choice—" Harry's blood rushed to his face.
"I know you mean the Muggle status—"
"It's more than that, it's because she's my friend." Harry said in a low voice, breathing heavily as he looked at Mafalda, "Yes, she's the famous Harry Potter's friend, and Ron, who had no choice once he stood by me in first year… I had no choice either, being forced into a connection with Voldemort since I was a baby. If things go as they should, one of us must die, or both."
Mafalda's body stiffened.
"I didn't—"
"I don't know what you think being a spy is, but if it's just a prank, fine. But you're capable, I can see that. That makes it worse. Have you ever thought about seeing your home in ruins in the newspaper, with a Dark Mark hanging over it?"
"I'm not—You're wrong!" Mafalda shouted.
"Then explain it to me." Harry said, looking down into her eyes.
Mafalda glared back, her eyes shimmering with tears, "You'll regret this!" She shot them a hateful look and ran off.
Harry watched her go, his mind drifting to the photos of Godric's Hollow he had found in old newspapers. The photos showed ruins, just as Moody had described. Flowers and candles were scattered around the ruins, left by wizards who came to pay their respects, "In memory of the fallen…" Harry felt a sense of futility when he read those words; his family would never return.
Sometimes, lying in bed, Harry would think about the Resurrection Stone. Even if it couldn't bring the dead back to life, as Luna firmly believed, just having the ability from the story of the three brothers to see the souls of his loved ones… rather than just a green flash and his mother's pleading voice…
"Harry, you’d better be careful. She doesn’t look like someone to mess with", Ron said, glancing toward the classroom door.
"I don’t care", Harry replied curtly.
Suddenly, Harry remembered something. Luna firmly believed in the Deathly Hallows. Could it be that she also had someone she desperately wanted to see? Right, she can see Thestrals too.
"She seems pretty smart, I mean, Mafalda", Ron hesitated, then added, "We’ve also accepted other students into our dueling practice group. I believe they won’t refuse to fight Death Eaters—"
"She’s only eleven", Harry said coldly, and Ron immediately fell silent. After a while, Harry belatedly asked, "She said Slytherin House has changed... What do you mean?"
Ron replied irritably, "The only person who knew was just driven away by you. Why don’t we ask Malfoy?"
Harry felt a bit annoyed. He should have asked for more details first.
...
At night, Felix continued his promising work as a bounty hunter. Apart from a minor disagreement with the bar owner during his first visit to the Hog's Head, he usually just stood at the door, cloaked in black, waiting. It wouldn’t be long before the target would ‘walk’ out on their own.
Recently, a legend had spread in Hogsmeade about a powerful ghost.
Of course, because the missing people were all Dark Wizards, and the worst kind, not many truly cared—these people were already living in hiding, and it was possible they had some urgent business and left suddenly.
Some Wizards confidently claimed to have seen a ghost with immense magical power. Just a wave of its hand, and it could take someone’s soul away.
"He is the embodiment of Death", an old Wizard obsessed with horror stories said.
His performance earned a chorus of applause, and the old Wizard won himself a cup of hot firewhisky. The bartender at the Hog's Head snorted disdainfully and continued wiping the highball glasses with a dirty rag.
Felix occasionally took the time to check on the unfinished construction site.
In the center of Hogsmeade village, a large open space was filled with building materials. Black and white marble slabs were arranged in an intricate pattern, with mysterious star symbols etched on them. Felix stood in the center of the star, looking around. The entire Wizarding village was shrouded in deep darkness, with only a few scattered stars visible in the sky.
Felix gazed into the darkness, where a faint sound approached, like footsteps, but too light to be sure.
From the Thestral’s perspective, the unknown creature’s body appeared blurry, almost indistinguishable in the darkness. He could only see a faint glow, vaguely forming the shape of a thin House-elf.
This was a different kind of vision, distinct from the normal and magical perspectives. If he had to define it, he could see the glow of a soul.
"Hello, Mr. Heap. Bundimun greets you", the House-elf said in a high-pitched voice, stopping far away and bowing deeply. When he looked up, meeting Felix’s silver-gray eyes, he shivered involuntarily. Those eyes filled him with fear.
"Is there something you need, Bundimun?"
"Mr. Heap, Bundimun brings you a letter. I’m very sorry, but Bundimun couldn’t enter Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry", the House-elf said, bowing deeply again. "Bundimun waited for days nearby and finally saw you."
Felix felt this scene was familiar, but the last time, it was a child who brought a challenge letter from Voldemort. He took the letter, which had a triangular symbol on the envelope: a circle with a vertical line inside. He stared at the symbol for a few seconds, his suspicions growing, "Nurmengard?"
The House-elf bowed even lower.
Felix opened the letter, which had no magical enchantment. It contained a simple line: "You are lying, the Elder Wand does not belong to you."
Felix couldn’t help but smile, "The Elder Wand doesn’t belong to me, but it doesn’t belong to you either, Dark Lord." He asked the House-elf, Bundimun, "Can I meet Mr. Grindelwald?"
"He has no plans to receive visitors at the moment", Bundimun replied respectfully.
Felix clicked his tongue. It seemed Gellert Grindelwald was still confined, but occasionally able to communicate with the outside world. For example, to write letters accusing him...
Is this the fate of the first Dark Lord?
Dumbledore was too kind. Felix doubted he would allow Voldemort the same treatment.
He wrote a brief reply, full of regret (or perhaps sarcasm?) at not being able to meet, and handed the letter along with a few books from his ring to the House-elf, "Please deliver these to Mr. Grindelwald. Let him... pass the time. If he’s interested, we can exchange letters in the future."
He also gave the House-elf a Warmnut, "You can contact me through this."
After the House-elf, Bundimun, disappeared, Felix began to look forward to it. What kind of magical path would this Dark Lord have taken? What kind of presence did he have?
After a moment, he started to worry if his reply was too sarcastic. What if the Dark Lord was petty? He found the thought amusing and turned to leave.
...
The last two weeks of October were filled with fierce storms. As the month drew to a close, a cold rain brought a sudden drop in temperature, and young Wizards changed into thicker clothes to fend off the biting wind.
Many students wore gloves even during breaks, but their minds were increasingly active: Halloween, the first Quidditch match, and the Ancient Runes Exchange were all coming up in the next week.
As Halloween approached, the castle was once again adorned with colorful decorations, and the school’s atmosphere became lively.
Finally, October 27th arrived.
(End of Chapter)
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