The opening match of the annual Quidditch competition was about to begin, but the weather was still dreadful. Dark, layered clouds flashed with frightening lightning from time to time, and the rain poured down like a waterfall, soaking the ground and creating puddles. However, the wind was much weaker than yesterday, which was a relief. If it was as strong as before, even Hagrid, the half-giant gamekeeper, riding a flying broom would be blown into the Black Lake.
Despite the storm, the young wizards from the four houses - Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff - gathered together in groups of twos and threes, holding umbrellas, and rushing to the stadium against the wind. They wanted to grab a good position to watch the game, between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Their heated discussions about the players, the tactics, and the odds almost drowned out the howling wind and rain.
Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor team, was anxious all night. He got up early and went to the hospital wing to check on Harry, who had an 'accident' in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class yesterday. He also brought him some porridge and sausage for breakfast, but he couldn't eat a bite himself. He was too nervous about the game, which could determine the fate of the Quidditch Cup.
When Wood walked into the hospital wing, He was relieved to see Harry, who was already wearing a bright red uniform and moving his limbs.
"I was thinking last night," Wood handed Harry the breakfast and said, "If you can't play today, I'll rush into Professor Watson's office and hex him."
Harry had finally defeated Slytherin yesterday, and he was in a good mood. He smiled and said,
"Wood, don't be silly. Even if you drag us all up, Professor Watson will alone beat us. I wonder if he will go to watch our game."
"I hope he doesn't." Wood said sullenly. "I've found out that no good things will happen wherever he appears."
In fact, Bryan, had no intention of watching the game. He had been in the Wizarding world for so long, but he didn't have much interest in this sport that was popular throughout the Wizarding world. It was not because he was not good at flying brooms. In fact, Bryan, who had been traveling around for years, could fly a broom faster than anyone else in his team. During the mission, if the journey was far, he would usually use flying brooms and apparition alternately on the road.
Squeak– Bryan pushed open the door of his office and stopped at the door. He glanced at the wall where the crowds were gathering outside the castle, and after finding nothing unusual, he walked slowly to the camp bed in the room. He looked at Remus, who was lying on the bed, pale and sickly.. He curled his lips and put the plate with sausage and bread on the floor under the edge of the bed and said,
"Here, have breakfast."
"Bryan–" Looking at the mischievous Bryan, Remus smiled weakly. "I ate on the ground yesterday because I was a werewolf then, but that doesn't mean I like to do that."
"Oh!" Bryan scratched his head pretending to realize. "Sorry, I forgot about that!"
'I believe you!'
Remus struggled to sit up and trembled his drooping eyelids. He knew that Bryan was Snape's proud student, and he must know some of the past grudges between them. That's why he was not surprised that Bryan liked to tease him from time to time.
After making a light-hearted joke, Bryan looked at Remus with sympathy. Remus was as frail as a candle in the wind, a victim of a cruel fate that turned him into a werewolf against his will.
In the previous chat, Bryan learned that over the years, every full moon night, in order not to hurt others, Remus would find a deserted wilderness, set up spells to prevent accidental intrusion and limit his own actions, and secretly transform into a werewolf.
But in that situation, Remus, who lost his reason and could not suppress his attack desire, had to bite himself. He lacked galleons, to buy healing potions, and his injuries recovered very slowly. When he finally healed, he would welcome another full moon. After entering Hogwarts again, Remus finally got to drink the wolfsbane potion, which was hailed as the werewolf's gospel. But to be honest, this potion was not a good thing either.
Bryan was not a master of potions, but he had a good grasp of the basics. He had more talent and interest in curses, which he studied avidly. He had once researched the wolfsbane potion, which was a rare and ingenious invention by the few remaining potion masters in the magical world. The potion worked on werewolves by fighting poison with poison, using another kind of opposing poison to suppress the wolfsbane that was raging in the werewolf's body due to the special magic tide caused by the full moon. The potion reduced the werewolf's aggression and allowed them to retain some of their human mind.
The potion did not cure lycanthropy, but rather eased the condition's psychological symptoms, allowing one to hold on to their mental faculties after transformation and thus retain their human consciousness whilst in animalistic physical form.
However, the potion also had a serious drawback. Wolfsbane was a kind of magical virus, which was entangled with the individual's magic. The wolfsbane potion would not only poison the carrier's physical health, but also consume the carrier's magic.
Drinking the wolfsbane potion, the werewolf would fall into weakness after the full moon period. In other words, drinking too much of this potion would shorten one's life.
"Speaking of which–" Lupin said, after eating breakfast. He supported his sick body to the window, but he didn't dare to open it. He was afraid of the wind and rain. He listened carefully through a piece of blurred glass. The Quidditch stadium was full of ups and downs of calls, which stirred his buried memory. Unconsciously, he thought of his old friend who was praised as a Quidditch genius. He recalled the carefree happy times in school, and a smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
"Even Professor Dumbledore came out of his office to watch the game. Why don't you–"
"I'm only interested in things that can improve my strength."
Bryan replied calmly. He was sitting at his desk, working on the theoretical research of the curses. He had a pile of books and scrolls on his desk, and his quill was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. He looked like he was completely absorbed in his work, and nothing else mattered to him.
"You're too harsh on yourself, Bryan." Lupin leaned against the cold glass, facing the frowning Bryan who was immersed in the world of knowledge and not moved by external things, He felt a bit of admiration for him. Bryan had that level of strength at his early twenties that even Dumbledore praised. Talent alone could not explain everything.
The dry wood in the scorching fireplace made a crackling explosion. The flames cast a warm glow on the room, but they could not dispel the chill that lingered in the air.
Lupin was a little afraid of the cold. He slowly moved to the window sill in front of the fireplace. He listened to the rising and falling calls outside the window. He looked at the front page of the latest issue of the Daily Prophet. The impassioned Minister of Magic was telling everyone how 'amazing' achievements they had made in capturing Black.
The headline read: "BLACK CORNERED AT LAST!" and there was a large photo of a group of Aurors surrounding a dark figure in a hooded cloak.
Lupin's face sank as he thought of Sirius Black, who had entered Hogwarts in a mysterious way not long ago. He turned his back to Bryan and faced the window, looking in an unknown direction. He clenched his fists and bit his lip, trying to suppress the turmoil in his heart.
'How did Black get into Hogwarts?'
Everyone in Hogwarts, including Albus Dumbledore and Bryan Watson, who was immersed in magical research behind him, were guessing about this. They wondered if Black had used some secret passage, or some dark artifact to bypass the security measures of the castle.
Lupin pretended to be as puzzled as everyone else, but deep in his heart he had a vague guess. He knew that the guess was close to the truth, but he couldn't face the answer, nor had the courage to say it. The answer meant that he had betrayed Albus's trust.
"It may not be the case," Lupin murmured in a voice that only he could hear. His face was as bad as the weather outside. "Maybe he learned a few tricks from Voldemort."
Perhaps he was too weak after the transformation. The cold air from the window crack made Lupin shiver. He backed away a few steps and walked to the hearth. He put his cold hands near the fireplace, but it seemed to be of no use. The bone-eating cold still penetrated everywhere, making Lupin vaguely feel a sense of despair. He wrapped his cloak around him, but it felt like a thin sheet of paper.
A trace of white frost spread from the window crack like the stimulated devil's web tentacles. The dark magic raged in the room. Lupin could feel it pressing on his chest, making it hard to breathe.
At some point, Bryan, who was deeply engrossed in his desk, had raised his head. He glanced at Lupin, who was leaning on the fireplace with a pale face and shaking. His light purple eyes showed anger.
"You dare to come here? Are you tired of living?"
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