The two of them quickly arrived home, and upon entering, they saw Gall's uncle—Ryan Troka, sitting in front of the fireplace, holding a letter with a worried expression.
"Uncle Ryan, what's happened?" Gall asked anxiously, "Is the Ministry of Magic sending people to search?"
"Silly child, if the Ministry of Magic were to send people to search, how would they notify us in advance by letter?"
Ryan Troka said helplessly, "Moreover, the last time I contacted your father was over ten years ago, they wouldn't expect you to be hiding here with me—this is a letter from Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts?" Lockhart, who was changing clothes at the door, turned his head in horror and asked, "Have we been discovered by Dumbledore??"
Ryan Troka: "..."
How did these two timid people dare to break out of Azkaban?
The world is truly mysterious.
"Dumbledore isn't as omniscient as you think," Ryan Troka said, "He just invited me to Hogwarts to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
Lockhart's face was vaguely twisted, "That course has changed professors again?"
"Yes, the previous professor reportedly had family issues, and just after the holiday ended, they resigned to Dumbledore." Ryan Troka sighed and said.
"Resigned?" Lockhart was stunned, "Just resigned? Didn't die? Or go to jail?"
"Of course not." Ryan Troka gave him a strange look and said, "The professor didn't do anything wrong, and I heard they did a very good job... If it's just being a professor, how could they end up in jail?"
"Listen to me, Uncle Ryan!" Gall said seriously, "That course at Hogwarts is cursed, no one has lasted more than a year, and now three professors have rotated in two years! The curse must have intensified, you really shouldn't go!"
Lockhart nodded silently with a bitter heart — yes, if he had known this earlier, he wouldn't have gone from a world-renowned bestseller author to a fugitive living with a precarious life.
"As for the curse, I'm not too worried, and plenty of professors like Professor Abigail have left peacefully after a year's work."
Ryan Troka said with indifference, "As long as you work diligently, do not break the law, and do not harm others, the Ministry of Magic can't inexplicably send me to jail."
Lockhart clutched his heart and sat silently on the sofa, feeling he had been shot with several arrows.
He didn't want to say a word.
After a moment of silence, Gall asked, "Uncle Ryan, do you want to go?"
Ryan Troka sighed and said, "You know, as a vampire, this kind of opportunity is extremely rare... Only Dumbledore would hire someone like me as a professor without prejudice."
He looked around his house — television, carpet, fireplace, in the kitchen there was an oven, a coffee machine, and a humming refrigerator.
The "Prophet Daily" on the dining table was the only item in the room connected to the magic world.
Ryan Troka said, "Gall, the Muggle life is nice, but... I don't want to be too far from that world."
Gall asked doubtfully, "Since you want to go... then why are you worried?"
"If it were the old Hogwarts, I would accept this invitation without hesitation. But..."
Ryan Troka sighed again, "I've heard Dumbledore is training an army at school, preparing to overthrow Fudge — getting involved in such a conflict, I don't know what consequences it will bring — that's why I'm hesitating."
Lockhart, who was drinking tea, almost spat it out.
"Dumbledore needs to train an army to overthrow Fudge?" he asked in amazement.
He was sincerely asking the question, but Ryan Troka heard the answer.
"Yeah... you're right... Dumbledore doesn't need it at all."
Ryan Troka looked at the letter again and finally made up his mind, "I'll write back to Dumbledore right away—there's pizza in the oven, help yourselves."
Ryan Troka hurriedly went upstairs to the study, and after watching his back disappear up the stairs, Gall took out a blood bag he had stolen from the hospital and carefully drank from it.
He dared not let his uncle see him drinking human blood, or he would surely get scolded.
Lockhart went to get the pizza himself, placed it on the table, set the utensils, tucked in a napkin, and was about to read the newspaper while eating dinner, only to find that the stack of "Prophet Daily" on the table had disappeared.
"Gall, did you take all the newspapers?" Lockhart asked.
"What?"
Gall, who was secretly hiding the remaining blood bag, didn't hear clearly and asked puzzledly.
"The newspaper! The newspaper is gone!" Lockhart said.
"I didn't take it... you can ask Uncle Ryan!" Gall said.
"Forget it then..." Lockhart said sullenly, turning to turn on the television.
A photo of a girl with a thin face and cold eyes appeared on the screen.
The news presenter was introducing the girl on the screen—
"It is reported that Mabel Roland, who has killed several adults, is on the run in the UK, this girl is extremely dangerous, do not approach... Anyone who can provide valuable information to help capture Mabel Roland will receive a one thousand pounds reward..."
"So young and she's killed so many people," Lockhart murmured, "truly terrifying..."
...
The terrifying girl was now sitting cross-legged in the attic of the Troka house.
She dared not turn on the light and was reading the newspaper articles word by word with the dim streetlamp light outside.
There were many unfamiliar words, Mabel read with difficulty, guessing as she went, reading through the recent papers.
There wasn't a single report mentioning Hayley or the other children's names, but she saw Rita Skeeter in the corners of the news.
Could she find Rita Skeeter to inquire about news?
But Mabel also didn't know where the newspaper's editorial office was... even more so, reporters aren't always at the office.
Mabel's fingers trailed line by line on the newspaper, finally stopping at another familiar name.
[Breaking release! Vid Gray's latest masterpiece—Communication Pea, bringing you to a new realm of communication!]
[Say goodbye to cumbersome handwritten letters and expensive Two-Sided Mirrors, Communication Pea allows you to stay in close contact with anyone, anytime, anywhere! Even thousands of miles apart, you can have direct conversations!]
[Lightweight and portable, sleek and beautiful design, various trendy colors, stable and efficient connectivity! This is an epoch-making product, a bridge linking the future life!]
[To celebrate the launch of the new product, Aslan Magic Workshop is offering a limited-time discount event, quantities are limited, first come, first served!]
[Purchasing method: Starting from December 23rd, Communication Peas will be on sale simultaneously in fifteen countries! Consumers please go to the following locations to purchase—London, UK: 118 Diagon Alley, Aslan Magic Workshop Store; New York, USA... ]
...
Vid sat in the wardrobe space, making a new poppet.
Under Transfiguration, the clay flowed and rolled from bottom to top, gradually forming a short figure—
Sparse, withering yellow hair clung to the scalp, looking very scruffy; deep eye sockets, pale skin, despite being a lifeless object at the moment, the round eyes seemed ready to roll at any time.
It hunched its back, wearing a ragged sack-like outfit, resembling a street vagrant or a large upright walking rat.
Vid tapped it with his magic wand, making its nose slightly upturned, then nodded.
It's almost like he remembered...
"Ding-dong... Master, you have a guest."
The golden bell hanging on the wall rang a few times and spoke.
Vid stopped making the poppet, packed up the wardrobe space, and went downstairs.
By this time, Harry, having heard the doorbell, had already opened the door, exclaiming with joy, "Remus!"
A weary Remus Lupin stood with a suitcase at the door, smiling at them.