Chapter 153: Weak Spot
A little witch with a head full of blonde hair, pale eyebrows, and protuberant eyes stumbled out from the back room, planting herself in front of Xenophilius Lovegood.
She repeated, her voice trembling slightly, "You can't take my daddy!"
The Aurors, naturally, had no intention of using force against a little girl. They paused, waiting to see what their leader, the Senior Deputy Minister, intended to do. She's almost of school age, Umbridge thought. Definitely can't hurt her, or Dumbledore will never let it go. She decided a direct assault was unwise; if the girl got hurt in the scuffle, everyone would suffer the consequences.
Suddenly, her eyes lit up with an idea. "Mr. Lovegood," she simpered, her voice falsely sweet, "you have a child. You have a weak spot. We shouldn't make things ugly. We wouldn't want to frighten the child, now would we?"
You have a child!
You have a weak spot!
Don't frighten the child!
The escalating implications behind these three sentences struck Xenophilius's sanity like monstrous hammers. Clang, clang, clang.
"What... what do you want me to do?" he stammered, unwilling to gamble on Umbridge's ruthlessness. His tone already held the sound of surrender.
"You should know," Umbridge said, pitching her voice high to sound deceptively gentle, "it would be better for everyone if you just came with us quietly."
Xenophilius helplessly placed one hand on his daughter's shoulder, stroking her blonde hair with the other. His lips moved, as if trying to say something, but no words came out, choked by a mix of physiological and emotional turmoil.
"Mr. Lovegood, our time is precious," Umbridge purred, reveling in her power. She failed to notice the varied expressions on the faces of the Aurors behind her—all tinged with contempt for her words and disdain for her character.
"Still haven't made a decision?" Umbridge raised her voice, making Xenophilius flinch. "Hurry up!"
Little Luna looked furious, glaring at the bossy, pudgy middle-aged witch. But her defiance only fueled Umbridge's sense of power, the feeling of an ant struggling powerlessly beneath her authority. She fixed Xenophilius with a meaningful gaze and began to count down. "Ten... nine... eight... seven..."
"...three... two..."
Just as she was about to reach one, Xenophilius broke. "I'll go with you! I'll go! But you have to guarantee Luna's safety!"
"A wise choice."
Seeing Xenophilius Lovegood concede defeat, Umbridge ordered her people to escort him to Azkaban. Her joy was palpable, her smile impossible to suppress. The entire process defied logic—no trial, no hearing, not even a formal conviction before being thrown into prison—but this was the authority of the Minister! This was the taste of power!
Luna Lovegood stood frozen for a moment, then quickly regained her composure. Remembering something, she ran back to her bedroom and retrieved an old copy of the Daily Prophet. It was the issue reporting Voldemort's capture by Hogwarts, filled with praise for the school's powerful "faculty."
"I heard..." Luna murmured to herself, recalling stories her father had told her when he was lucid, "...that as soon as a talented young witch or wizard is born, their name is recorded by the Quill of Acceptance and the Book of Admittance..."
"So... I should also be... a prospective student... of Hogwarts?"
Hogsmeade Village.
In the small villa—or rather, mini-castle—next to the Shrieking Shack. The entire structure was oddly shaped, wider at the top than the bottom. The upper section resembled a Gothic castle, while the lower part had a steampunk aesthetic, with hints of tracks or tires visible at the base. Chimneys snaked up the walls, constantly puffing white steam. Where the chimneys crossed the architectural divide, they too transformed, becoming Gothic-style black symbolic markings.
In the first-floor reception hall.
"This little castle... it's truly opened my eyes," Nava said with genuine admiration. From the magically accelerated plant growth in the backyard, to the self-cooking utensils in the kitchen, to the lighting that changed with the occupants' moods and the external environment, the water that appeared at a touch, and the doorways that constantly shifted, leading to different places...
"Honestly," Nava continued, "when Mr. Ralvin showed me the Hog's Head, some unfortunate stereotypes about the wizarding world popped into my head—dark, damp caves, decaying old witches stirring bubbling cauldrons... that sort of thing. But seeing your castle, I realize that what I saw was just the surface. What lies beneath is far beyond my imagination."
Nava's words echoed Julia's own thoughts. Julia couldn't understand how MACUSA, which supposedly maintained contact with wizards worldwide, could be so isolated and uninformed. It was as if they had completely shut themselves off from the world!
When they had arrived, they'd found a thoughtfully placed Castle Construction Manual in the hall. Reading it, Julia realized that these advanced magical techniques, these ingenious combinations, were actually within the capabilities of an ordinary adult wizard. Perhaps they couldn't create such a perfectly balanced internal and external circulation and resource utilization model, but it was still light-years ahead of the various house-building methods used in the regions under MACUSA's jurisdiction.
"Some people back home think the British magical community is no different from ours... but coming here, I see that we've become frogs in a well," Julia said glumly, shaken by how far behind they seemed.
"Actually, these are just ordinary techniques combined in different ways," Ryan said with genuine feeling. "And they're just techniques, really. They won't amount to much in the grand scheme of things." Since his magical growth spurt had doubled his power, the closer he got to the level of Dumbledore and the others, the more he realized that mere technique meant little. Besides, these techniques already existed in the wizarding world; they were just underutilized due to a lack of innovative spirit. In essence, this was knowledge the magical world already possessed; Ryan had simply organized and presented it, like putting a fresh coat of paint on the dilapidated old building that was modern spellcasting.
Unfortunately, not everyone was willing to accept even that coat of paint. Even in Hogsmeade, only a minority had adopted Ryan's new renovation methods. The Hog's Head that Nava and Julia had seen truly hadn't been renovated. If they had actually gone inside, they would have discovered that the British wizarding world could be just as backward and dilapidated.
The owner of the Hog's Head is supposedly the Headmaster's brother, but they don't get along... Ryan thought, making a mental note to try and talk with Aberforth sometime.
~~~
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