Chapter 181

~ 73 Advanced Chapters Available now on my Patreon! With his Seer’s Eye, Gellert naturally knew that this unicorn girl was the Hufflepuff maiden he had foreseen. The smile on his face gradually turned wicked. As long as he could sabotage the… , inappropriate feelings between his sister and Scarhead, he’d be willing to do anything—work for Scamander, or even shovel Niffler droppings every day! However, this increasingly sinister grin didn’t escape Poppy’s notice. She glanced at him, then at Veratia, her expression clearly saying, “I’m sure Miss Sweeting must also adore magical creatures, yes?” Gellert tried to make his smile less like the Big Bad Wolf deceiving Little Red Riding Hood. He shot a glance at Newt and said to Poppy with a chuckle, “I’ve heard that Mr. Scamander’s mother—your sister, that is—was quite fond of Hippogriffs?” Poppy nodded. “Yes, I’m very fond of Hippogriffs too.” But the reason Poppy loved Hippogriffs was something she had never shared with anyone. It was because her true friendship with Harry began with saving a Hippogriff. But… Gellert let out a wicked chuckle in his mind. He glanced at Harry again, his demeanor leisurely. Unbeknownst to Harry, in addition to “Scarhead,” he had just earned another nickname. When it came to dishing out nicknames, though, Harry had rarely been outdone in his life. At that moment, Gellert’s attention shifted to Mr. Flamel, who was engrossed in a computer. To be precise, ever since Gellert entered the room, Mr. Flamel hadn’t noticed his arrival at all, completely absorbed in his work on the computer. “What’s he doing?” Gellert asked curiously. Newt explained, “Mr. Flamel seems to have found a way to improve computers, making them more suitable for wizards to use.” “Muggle contraptions?” Gellert leaned in with keen interest, his Seer’s Eye spinning in its socket. He sat beside Flamel, focusing intently on his actions, clearly intrigued by Muggle technology. “So, what’s the plan now?” Tina whispered to Newt. “Are we really going to accept this Grindelwald as your assistant?” “I trust Dumbledore’s judgment,” Newt replied softly. “If he believes this Grindelwald is harmless, I have no reason to refuse. Besides, if I don’t agree, he’ll find a way to make me.” Tina thought it over and realized he was right. Hadn’t Newt himself been strong-armed into things by Dumbledore back in the day? “Then you’d better keep an eye on him, so his ideas don’t corrupt the young minds at Hogwarts,” Tina warned quietly. “From what I know, students are at that age where they’re just starting to understand the world but don’t fully grasp it. They think they’ve got the truth figured out and are always full of passion. What if—just —he takes the chance to instill some dangerous ideas in them?” “That’s unlikely, Tina,” Newt replied. “Hogwarts students these days aren’t interested in that sort of thing. They’re more concerned with what fun they can have in their free time.” “I don’t think so, Newt,” Tina said seriously. “As a former Auror, I believe I should go to Hogwarts with you and help keep an eye on this cunning Grindelwald.” Newt turned to her, beaming. “That’s wonderful, Tina! It’s great to have your help—” Tina flashed a sly, smile. “Young Master Potter,” Deek’s voice chimed in as he appeared, arms laden with gifts. “Here are your letters and your Christmas presents.” “Really?” Harry walked over and sat beside Veratia on the sofa. Deek placed the pile of gifts in front of Harry, and Poppy eagerly leaned in. “What kind of gifts are there?” Poppy’s eyes sparkled as she eyed the packages. “Any tasty treats? Any tasty treats?” “Why are you always thinking about food?” Harry said with a helpless chuckle. He reached for one gift and unwrapped it—it was from Hermione. There was a note attached. Harry opened it to read. “It’s from Hermione, and she included a note.” The note read: “That girl…” Veratia looked delighted. “Which one’s mine?” “Looks like this one.” Harry pulled out a thick stack of magazines and newspapers. “Wow, look at this—a collection of publications from 1922 to 1939. How did she manage to find all these?” Veratia picked up a newspaper, glanced at it, and said happily, “She really knows what I need. I like her.” “She’s incredibly gifted academically,” Harry said with a grin. “Even Professor Snape fondly calls her ‘Miss Know-It-All.’” Gellert’s voice cut in at just the right moment. “You really can’t tell the difference between sarcasm and praise, can you, Potter?” “Shut it, ,” Harry shot back, rolling his eyes, tweaking Gellert’s name ever so slightly. “Nifflert?” Newt lowered his voice, his face lighting up with a “Wow!” expression. “Merlin’s beard, that nickname is just…” Others might not know the saga of Gellert and the Nifflers, but Newt Scamander was well aware. After all, it was Newt who had orchestrated the Niffler’s theft of the Blood Pact. When it was all over, Newt had even sharply remarked that Gellert “failed to understand that even the humblest creatures have their own ways.” Tina whispered so only Newt could hear, “That name suits him perfectly. What kind of creature would rob his own sister’s vault blind?” On the sofa, Harry and Veratia continued unwrapping gifts. Hagrid’s gift included products from magical creatures—Mooncalf pelts, unicorn hair, and even an ounce of Acromantula venom. “I don’t recall Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest,” Veratia said suddenly. “From what I remember, the spiders there are just native species.” “Oh, that’s probably from the one Hagrid raised,” Harry said with a laugh. He went on to explain the tangled history of Hagrid, the Acromantula, and Tom Riddle, but Veratia didn’t seem surprised. Raising dangerous creatures at school? She’d done that herself in the Room of Requirement. A good portion of her vault’s wealth came from the products of those magical creatures. “This ounce of venom couldn’t have come from just one Acromantula,” Veratia said, her eyes gleaming. “I think when we’re back at school, we should search the Forbidden Forest thoroughly. Acromantulas aren’t native, so if there are more, it means Hagrid likely got hold of others.” “Knowing him, he probably found a mate for that Acromantula,” she continued. “You know how spiders reproduce in massive numbers. Even if this started ten years ago, the spider population in the Forest could be astronomical.” “But…” Harry hesitated. “Those spiders are Hagrid’s friends. Shouldn’t we talk to him first?” “With that many Acromantulas, they’re bound to disrupt the Forbidden Forest’s ecosystem,” Veratia said, poking Harry’s forehead with her finger. “Are you daft? This is a perfectly valid reason. We can’t just sit back and let the Forest’s ecological balance be ruined, right, Professor Scamander?” She looked up at Newt as she said this. “You make a good point, Miss Grindelwald!” Newt nodded enthusiastically. “If your analysis is correct and there are that many Acromantulas in the Forest, we must control their population… but…” He paused, then shifted gears. “I think we should do so without harming the spiders,” Newt said, his love for magical creatures shining through. “Perhaps we could find a suitable habitat for them. What do you think, Miss Grindelwald?” “I completely agree!” Veratia gave Newt an approving look. She’d been about to suggest something similar, and Newt had handed her the perfect justification. Newt’s idea was to relocate the excess Acromantulas to a proper habitat, but Veratia’s plan… was to farm them sustainably for their venom. Acromantula venom was a hot commodity, after all. “Wait a second,” Harry said, suddenly remembering. “I think Alfonso told me he loves eating Acromantulas.” “Alfonso? Who’s Alfonso?” Poppy asked, tilting her head, her mouth instinctively nuzzling Harry’s leg. Veratia reached out and —slapped Poppy’s snout. Poppy didn’t say anything, just looked at Harry with a pitiful expression. “Hey, why’d you hit her?” Harry said, rubbing Poppy’s face. He explained to everyone, “Alfonso is the Basilisk kept by Slytherin. He told me he prefers eating Acromantulas over beef.” At Harry’s words, Newt leaned in eagerly. Gone was his usual social awkwardness, replaced by a spark of fascination as he looked at Harry, even glancing around as if trying to spot Harry’s wallet. “Yes, yes, you have a Basilisk! I remember you mentioning that—” “A Basilisk’s gaze can kill, Professor Scamander,” Harry reminded him. “Just call me Newt, Harry,” Newt said, awkwardly trying to close the distance. “As the Basilisk’s master, you should be able to command it not to harm anyone, right?” Harry suddenly looked embarrassed. “Well, actually, I kind of tricked him. I told him I was Ominis Gaunt, and that my bloodline is purer than that half-blood Riddle’s… so the Basilisk listens to me instead of Tom Riddle.” “That’s not really a lie, Harry,” Poppy said, shaking her head. “It’s just a harmless fib to keep an innocent little Basilisk from being deceived by that cunning Riddle.” Ever since Voldemort nearly bit her, Poppy had held a grudge against “that cunning Riddle.” Plus, she loved magical creatures, so she despised Voldemort even more. “But it’s still a problem, Harry,” Veratia said softly. “A Basilisk’s gaze is incredibly dangerous. We can’t let one roam freely in the Forbidden Forest, even if you Ominis Gaunt.” The room fell silent. “Maybe we should come up with a solution,” Newt said reluctantly. “It’s such a rare chance to study a Basilisk up close. It’d be a shame to let it slip.” “What kind of solution could you possibly have?” Theseus asked suddenly. “Are you relying on that magical suitcase of yours again?” “No, maybe we could ask Mr. Flamel,” Newt suggested. “He might have some ideas about dealing with a Basilisk’s eyes.” No sooner had he said this than Mr. Flamel’s airy voice drifted over. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any solutions either.” “Let’s take it slow, then,” Harry said with a sigh. They went back to unwrapping gifts. Harry opened one from Ron—a Wizard’s Chess set. The attached note mentioned that Ron had entered a national Wizard’s Chess tournament. “The prize is a hundred Galleons,” the note said. “Ron, Gareth’s descendant,” Harry explained to Veratia. “Also the one who can’t stand Hermione, and vice versa.” Veratia nodded in understanding. Now she got it. “I remember Ron’s really good at Wizard’s Chess,” she said. “Back on the grass by the Black Lake, he beat me several times in a row.” Poppy rested her head on Harry’s shoulder—perhaps because she was in her unicorn form, or because nearly everyone around was a Harry-Veratia shipper, she was bold as brass. “But you’re just an amateur player, Poppy,” Harry said, setting the note aside. “Ron’s competing in a national tournament, facing the best players from all over Britain. I think he’s good, but against professional players, he might be out of his depth.” This time, Veratia didn’t stop Poppy’s antics. She just subtly leaned against Harry’s arm, her head resting on his other shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. Harry turned to look at Veratia’s now pale-golden hair and asked curiously, “Out of magic again?” “Mmm~” Veratia replied with a nasal hum. Nearby, Perenelle, sipping tea, gave Veratia a knowing smile and raised her teacup in a subtle toast. “Let’s see,” Harry said, digging through the gifts. “Oh, this one’s from Slytherin’s prefect, Miss Farley.” At the mention of “Miss Farley,” Veratia instantly perked up. She asked casually, “Miss Farley? Can you tell me about her?” Far away, at home writing a paper, Miss Farley suddenly sneezed. She rubbed her nose, feeling an inexplicable sense of unease. --- Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my patreon: pat reon .com/windkaze