Chapter 340: Facing Voldemort

Lupin stared at the parchment, the words of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs glowing brightly upon it.

A strange, secretive expression crossed his face, then vanished beneath a deep emotion.

He had endured too much this day; sometimes he felt the boy’s arrival was a surprising accident.

Grimmauld Place… perhaps being its lifelong keeper wouldn’t be so bad.

“An interesting map. What is its purpose?”

Lupin asked with a smile.

Now it was Wizard Sean’s turn to look peculiar; though he understood, hearing those words from Moony still felt…

“Well, it helps us find secret passages. It also shows the names and locations of everyone in Hogwarts…”

As the boy explained its workings, Lupin smiled and nodded.

Finally, Wizard Sean tucked the parchment away, his figure gradually fading.

Lupin gazed out the window, where a figure in the snowstorm grew steadily clearer.

“Mr. Lupin.”

It was Jia Jia Siting.

“Mr. Finnigan.”

Lupin was surprised.

The returning golden-haired boy’s robes were dusted with snow.

“Wizard Sean is the smartest among us. He trusts you… he always believes people too easily.”

“But I hope you understand: trust is a choice, a courage, a… irreplaceable resource.”

After speaking those words, Jia Jia Siting turned and left.

He knew little about werewolves—almost everything he knew came from today’s cramming.

But he clearly understood how easily such a pitiful, terrifying creature could fall into darkness.

Perhaps only Wizard Sean would unconditionally believe this wizard named Lupin was the moon rising in the night.

…

The Three Broomsticks.

Wizard Sean waited quietly for Jia Jia Siting, who said he was going to buy sweets—but headed not toward Honeydukes.

On the greasy table sat two mugs of butterbeer, their white foam overflowing. It was one of the reasons young witches and wizards loved the Three Broomsticks—they sold butterbeer to students.

This tradition arose from Britain’s terrible water quality.

The pub was crowded now; Wizard Sean huddled in a corner, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

His reason was simple: Professor Flitwick was dozing soundly in a dim corner.

Wizard Sean finished his butterbeer in silence, feeling warmth spread through his body, then began thinking about Lupin—

Wormtail still hid beside Ron, and Sirius, who had imprisoned himself alone for twelve years, remained gaunt and hollow…

Wizard Sean pondered silently, his plan growing clearer.

But before that, perhaps he could learn a few spells from Mr. Lupin—like the Patronus Charm.

After a long while, the bell chimed. Wizard Sean saw Jia Jia Siting’s frost-red face. Jia Jia Siting opened his mouth to speak, but Wizard Sean shook his head.

He glanced around the pub and widened his eyes.

That was… Professor Flitwick?

They were right under the professor’s nose…

The two hurried away; before leaving, Wizard Sean silently transfigured a blanket to cover the professor.

After they left, the drunken Flitwick stirred as if waking, a smile curling at his lips.

Grimmauld Place… its founder remains hard to guess.

…

Hogwarts Castle seemed to have fallen into slumber.

Only one window still glowed with light.

Minerva McGonagall stepped inside, dusted with snow, and entered the firelight’s glow, where the white, fluffy snowflakes slowly melted.

Since the Chamber of Secrets incident, she had fully realized that one young wizard was far from obedient—he simply ignored rules when he decided to act.

It was both frustrating and helpless.

Perhaps Marcus was right: this child was like her… in her youth.

On Minerva McGonagall’s desk lay an Animagus registration form.

She placed it inside the drawer, her brow furrowed, then sighed deeply.

Since the summer break, time had dragged on far too long…

November 30th.

Outside the castle, the grounds remained thickly covered in snow; condensation clung to the greenhouse windows, and during Herbology, Wizard Sean couldn’t see outside.

Ravenclaw’s schedule today was light: only one Herbology class, one Transfiguration class, and another Herbology class.

Gryffindor, by contrast, faced a nightmare: two back-to-back Potions classes and one Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Harry and Ron suffered all day; after Potions, they wandered dazed, pale and listless, just as Wizard Sean had first seen Lupin.

“Is this really working, Harry?”

Ron trudged wearily up the fourth floor, forcing himself to ask.

“That’s the problem, Ron. If we keep going like this, we’ll die before Lockhart does.”

Harry had lost thirty points today—truthfully, he’d never heard of anyone being docked so many points just for class.

The points they’d earned facing Tom Riddle in the Chamber had been wiped out.

They hurried along until they reached the center of the fourth-floor corridor, then knelt before a black cat statue.

“Save us, Black Cat Sir—Professor Snape has gone mad with deductions…”

Harry’s face twisted in desperate devotion.

“Yes—five points for placing a glass rod in a cauldron, five more for setting a beaker on the table without preheating…”

Ron seemed to recall some unforgettable horror; his head still spun.

“Look, this is how Potter sees the Castle Cat in his dreams!”

Hannah exclaimed to the circle of young witches and wizards.

Harry and Ron’s immediate, fervent kneeling stunned the others.

Ginny stared at Harry’s profile, then after a moment, joined the line.

When Wizard Sean passed by carrying his Potions materials, he saw only a circle of students bowing before the statue, as if performing some strange ritual.

He hurried away, his earlier joy over reaching [Proficient] in Soul Transfiguration dimmed.

The Castle Cat Club was now the largest club in Hogwarts.

Originally, membership was capped—but Headmaster Dumbledore always signed off on expansion requests, fueling the students’ wild enthusiasm.

If this didn’t prove the Castle Cat’s vital importance, what could?

Wizard Sean merely gained another insight into Dumbledore’s love of spectacle; he turned down a corridor, and the plan map floated out before him.

The map’s image vanished entirely, replaced by a foggy silhouette of figures—[Harry] now glowed with a red exclamation mark.

Wizard Sean knew the plan was progressing steadily—and today was the day he would face Voldemort… the fragile soul.