The air around them fell silent.
After a few seconds, Harry looked around and asked in confusion, "That person... which person? Who are you talking about?"
Lupin froze for a moment, then suddenly understood and gave a silent, bitter smile.
When he was born, the rising Voldemort had not yet become synonymous with "terror." Lupin had grown up hearing stories about the dark wizard Grindelwald—his name had left a deep impression in Lupin's memory.
But it was different for children like Harry. To them, Grindelwald was already a historical figure—probably no different from the Emeric the Evil or the goblin Urg—just another headache-inducing name from their textbooks.
In fact, because Grindelwald was still alive and the influence of the Pureblood Supremacist movement still lingered, the History of Magic class didn't go into much detail about that period.
School lessons still focused on the Goblin Rebellions, the Giant Wars, the formation of the Wizengamot, and the evolution of wizarding laws, etc.
Among the three children, only Wade looked pensive after his initial shock. Harry and Michael remained completely baffled.
Suppressing his anxiety and unease, Lupin explained to them:
"Gellert Grindelwald is one of the most powerful dark wizards in history... Dumbledore defeated him in 1945, and he's been imprisoned in Nurmengard ever since. But now... he's broken out."
Just thinking about Grindelwald's atrocities across Europe and America made Lupin's heart race.
"He's been locked up for about... fifty years?" Harry did some quick math and exclaimed, "He's that old—what can he even do now?"
"Anything's possible, but one thing's for sure—he won't just quietly live out his old age," Lupin said worriedly. "Come on, I'll take you back. Then I need to... talk to a few people."
Seeing how serious he looked, Wade and the others didn't argue. They picked up the pace and headed toward the entrance of Diagon Alley.
By now, the crowd in Diagon Alley had thinned significantly. The once-busy street now seemed almost deserted. Hiding in a corner, Mabel suddenly caught sight of the very person she had been desperately searching for.
She opened her mouth to call out, but when she saw he was with a few companions, she closed it again. Pulling her hood lower, she quickly followed.
She wanted to find a moment when Wade was alone to speak with him.
Seeing the group was about to pass through the archway, Mabel panicked. She broke into a jog but accidentally kicked a cage outside a pet shop and fell with a loud thud.
The shopkeeper didn't even scold her—he'd heard about Grindelwald's escape too and was now pacing nervously inside the store, like a mouse looking for a hole to hide in.
Mabel looked up just in time to see the bricks of the archway sealing themselves shut and the figures on the other side fading into the distance.
"Wait—!"
She couldn't help but shout, but the archway had already turned into a solid brick wall, seamless and cold, as if dividing two completely different worlds.
...
Wade vaguely heard a somewhat familiar voice and instinctively turned around, only to see a dirty wall with a pile of unmelted snow in the corner.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked.
"It's nothing..." Wade replied, turning his head and pulling up his hood.
Maybe it was just the wind?
He thought.
They re-entered the Leaky Cauldron. The once noisy and lively crowd had already vanished. Only a bald old wizard sat slowly sipping his drink in the corner, and two others—wrapped tightly in black robes—seemed to be passed out drunk, slumped over a table.
Behind the bar, Tom the innkeeper muttered indistinct curses as he waved his wand, causing the messy tables and chairs to return to their proper places. Hearing footsteps, he glanced over but didn't greet them—his mood was clearly quite foul.
But then, he noticed a somewhat familiar figure, and the expression that looked like someone owed him a thousand Galleons immediately blossomed into a beaming smile.
"Ah! Mr. Potter!" Tom hurriedly made his way through the narrow aisle between tables and greeted him warmly. "Bloody hell, I can't believe I only just noticed you! Would you like a nice hot cup of chocolate?"
Harry had no choice but to stop and shake his hand. He replied awkwardly, "No, thank you. We're just about to head back."
The old wizard in the corner lifted his eyes, glanced at Harry's face, then looked away and his gaze shifted to the others nearby.
"Alright, alright..." Tom let go of Harry's hand, watching the group with obvious disappointment. "You're welcome anytime, Mr. Potter."
Lupin led the group through the pub, and just as they were stepping out, Wade felt a chill on his forehead.
He looked up to see feather-like snowflakes gently drifting down from the sky.
The heavy clouds above seemed to press right up to the tops of the buildings, and there were faint black shapes weaving in and out of them—clearly not normal birds or clouds.
Harry's face suddenly went pale and the piercing cold made his limbs go numb. He nearly shouted, "Dementors!"
Lupin glanced up and said, "They're not coming for us—probably just doing a routine patrol... Let's go!"
He stepped to the curb to hail a cab and explained as he did:
"The Ministry of Magic forbids them from causing widespread panic, so now they either move with the clouds or patrol only at night."
A dark blue taxi slowly pulled up beside them. At Lupin's urging, Wade and the others quickly got in, and the car sped off almost immediately.
Wade leaned against the window, wiped the fog from the glass, and looked back.
He had a feeling the Dementors were gradually descending in altitude... Were they trying to take advantage of the snowfall, when visibility is low, to sneak in and feed on some joyful emotions?
Christmas was approaching, and ordinary people had no idea that a dark wizard had broken out of prison. The whole city was immersed in holiday spirit, with cheerful Christmas music playing everywhere.
That kind of atmosphere must be irresistible to Dementors.
But for now, with Voldemort yet to rise again, the Ministry still had a fairly tight grip on them.
Those things had already been roaming the island for nearly ten days. Apart from the attack on the Hogwarts Express, they had otherwise behaved rather obediently.
So Wade withdrew his gaze. As he turned his head, he overheard Harry quietly asking Michael, "Are we still going to the department store?"
"We can go tomorrow morning," Michael replied casually. "I just remembered—I've heard of Grindelwald before. But even at the height of his power, he never managed to conquer Britain."
Harry nodded, feeling a bit more at ease—he still hadn't finished buying all his Christmas gifts and definitely didn't want to end up rushing out a few random items tomorrow just to get them sent off.
Neither of them saw Grindelwald's prison break as that big of a deal—kind of like if Hitler were to be resurrected, people on the other side of the world would still go about their daily lives. No one would drop everything and spend every moment living in a state of panic.
If it had been Voldemort who announced his return in a grand, public way, that would be something to fear. After all, Harry Potter would undoubtedly be target number one on his hit list.
But when Grindelwald was imprisoned, not only was Harry not born—his parents hadn't even been born yet. There was no grudge between them, no life-or-death vendetta.
Sitting in the front seat, Lupin overheard their conversation and suddenly realized that he might have been too tense—perhaps the panic from those around him had influenced his judgment and blown the situation out of proportion.
Thinking back carefully, those who reacted the most intensely when the news broke were mostly foreign wizards... British wizards were more like slow-reacting followers and only left after the others did.
Lupin let out a long breath and couldn't help but chuckle at himself for being less composed than a couple of kids.
Still, it was Dumbledore who defeated Grindelwald all those years ago... maybe this time, Grindelwald would choose Britain as his first target to settle the score.
But he had only just escaped. Whether he planned to gather followers or carry out something bigger, it would take time...
…
Mabel was kneeling on the ground, dazed and lost, unsure where she could even go.
A pair of arms helped her up, and she heard a gentle voice by her ear: "Are you alright, child?"
Before Mabel could react, she'd already been effortlessly lifted to her feet. By the time she instinctively reached for her hood, it was too late.
—Crap! He saw my face!
Mabel panicked and lowered her head. She did not dare to look at the kind wizard who'd helped her and braced herself for the moment he would recognize her and scream.
Dark mist swirled around her feet, but she held it back.
Even if he had only shown her a sliver of kindness... Mabel didn't want to hurt him.
Just then, the Dementors circling high in the sky suddenly seemed drawn by something. After aimlessly drifting for a while, they abruptly changed direction—diving straight down!
"You look kind of familiar..."
On the street, the wizard thought for a moment, then smiled and said, "Were you one of the kids from the bookstore earlier? Where are your parents?"
Mabel: "..."
He didn't recognize me?
How is that possible?
My photo was plastered all over town… it had even been on the front page of the newspapers for days, and even showed up in Muggle news!
She suddenly looked up and realized that this wizard was actually the owner of the house she'd been hiding near for the past few days.
If she remembered correctly, his name was Ryan Troka, a vampire—one of the rare ones who didn't drink human blood.
But back then, Mabel had only occasionally snuck into the kitchen to steal some food or skim the newspapers. She'd barely ever come face-to-face with anyone in the house.
Now, every hair on her body stood on end from tension. She stared fixedly at Troka, only to see that he was still holding her arm, looking around as if trying to find her non-existent "parents."
Troka looked down and asked gently, "Did you get separated from your family? Where do you live? I can take you home."
Mabel looked at him, stunned and suspicious, wondering if he was playing some kind of trick.
Hadn't he seen the wanted posters on the walls while looking around?
Sure, I look thinner than I did in the photos now, with my hair tied up and dressed differently… but my face hasn't changed that much—Is that really enough to fool someone?
Troka, seeing that the girl—who seemed completely terrified—wasn't saying a word, rubbed his temples with frustration.
Sigh… She's going to be one of my future students, after all. I can't just leave her here alone. What if she runs into someone dangerous… How could I still call myself a professor at Hogwarts?
He assumed Mabel had been chasing after her family earlier and silently criticized her guardians for being so irresponsible. Trying to reassure her, he smiled and said,
"Don't worry, I'm not a bad person. How about I take you to the Leaky Cauldron? Maybe your parents will go there to find you."
Mabel hesitated, then nodded.
If he really is trying to trick me… I'm not helpless.
Seeing her finally respond, Troka smiled and gently led Mabel toward the entrance of Diagon Alley.
As his gaze swept across the wanted posters on the wall, something about them felt familiar—but he couldn't quite place it.
It was the same feeling he'd had multiple times that day—including when that child bumped into him at the bookstore. Troka had the sense that he'd seen him before, but no clear memory surfaced.
Kids… they all kind of look the same, don't they? he thought.
Just then, his steps suddenly halted.
The surrounding temperature dropped rapidly—so cold it made them shiver. All joy seemed to vanish, leaving only despair and sorrow in their hearts...
He looked up and saw hundreds of Dementors descending from the sky, diving straight toward the two of them!
Mabel saw the terrifying sight as well. She instantly recognized them as the "special unit" the Ministry had dispatched to capture her, and she was just about to leap up and run—when suddenly, her arm was yanked tight!
"Let go of me!"
she screamed, half her body instantly transforming into dark mist.
But Troka didn't see this happening. He was staring intently at the lead Dementor, and in one swift motion, he yanked Mabel toward him, his foot twisting as he began to turn—
POP!
With a thunderous crack, the vampire wizard and the Obscurus girl vanished into thin air!
The Dementors dove into empty air. A few in front crashed straight into the ground. With their target gone, they drifted around the street, searching frantically. Their decaying forms radiated fury—before eventually dissolving into nothingness.
…
Mabel staggered slightly, barely able to stand when she heard the vampire beside her angrily say:
"What the hell is the Ministry doing, letting those monsters loose again? That's the second time they've attacked innocent people! That Hogwarts train incident—must've been because they lost control of the Dementors too. And I almost believed their nonsense!"
Troka fumed for a bit, then noticed the little girl staring at him in silence. Assuming she was scared stiff, he softened his tone:
"Sorry, kid. It was urgent, so I brought you here first. Once those monsters leave in a few hours, I'll take you back to Diagon Alley, okay?"
Mabel stayed quiet, cautious.
Troka was already somewhat used to her silence. He took it as agreement, smiled, and said:
"Make yourself at home, have some snacks. I'll go write a letter… GALE—"
Raising his voice, Troka called toward the bedroom:
"Gale! Come keep our guest company for a bit."
"Okay, Uncle Ryan!"
came the reply from behind the door.
Hearing footsteps approaching, Ryan Troka smiled at Mabel and went back to his study, confident everything was under control.
He didn't have much power himself—but he could complain about this to Headmaster Dumbledore.
A minute or two later, Gale yawned, pulled on a sweater, and came out of the bedroom.
Running his fingers through his messy hair, he went straight to the fridge and asked:
"Want something to drink? Water, soda, or tea?"
As he turned casually to glance at his uncle's new guest, his eyes went wide in shock—and the soda bottle in his hand fell to the floor with a loud thud!
He opened his mouth to scream— but suddenly a wave of dark, inky mist surged over him, slamming him to the ground. His throat was pinned so tight he couldn't even breathe!
"What's going on, Gale?"
Lockhart, who had been in the bathroom doing his skincare routine, opened the door— only to be yanked off his feet by a tremendous force and slammed to the ground, becoming Gale's equally miserable companion.
In the middle of the living room stood the thin girl, now transformed.
Her eyes had turned completely white, and half her body had become a massive dark mist— a monstrous shape that pinned both men to the floor, leaving them utterly helpless.
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⭐Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God (HP:BSG)- +235 Chapters
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