Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 1024: Chapter 111: Morning Light

”Sorry, Miss Elise, we didn’t notice that crack while we were cleaning.”

The House-Elf hurriedly said, ”I’ll get rid of this insect right away.”

”No... no need...”

Elise smiled, cupping the tiny ant in her palm, then walked lightly back to the bedroom and placed the ant in an exquisite mug.

The little black fellow seemed to know it had fallen into a dead end; it didn’t try to escape, just lay motionless at the bottom of the cup.

Elise drew a long feather from the hat hanging nearby and gently nudged the ant with the soft tip.

”If you can understand me, could you answer a question?”

Elise asked with a smile in her eyes, ”The Magic Power on you... where did it come from?”

The ant was like it had been petrified, showing no reaction; if not for the antennae on its head trembling ever so slightly, it would have looked dead.

Elise propped her chin, smiling:

”Hm? Don’t tell me I’ve discovered a new kind of Magical Creatures? But if that were the case, your kind would already have formed a colony; it wouldn’t be pure coincidence that I only happened to notice you today.”

The ant didn’t respond, but Elise didn’t find it boring. She went on with her analysis, speaking to the little thing:

”Of course, it could also be that some Wizard cast a Spell on you, and the effect of the Magic Spell has lasted until now.”

It was said there was someone who liked casting Enlargement Spells on insects that happened to appear nearby, sending those enlarged, terrifying creatures to ’hunt down’ his classmates, and he’d even scared quite a few girls to tears—boys included.

”But if that were so... the Magic Power on you should be gradually weakening, not in this very stable state.”

Elise nudged the ant twice more and said softly, ”So my guess is... right? You’re one of Vid’s Poppets?”

She recalled a video she’d watched over and over: countless Poppets flooding out of a cramped space like a deluge, swarming, sky-darkening, terrifying to behold.

And at their center, that teenager... or rather, ”boy”... though he’d been shrunk, he was still composed and measured, utterly confident, as if an immense power was contained in that small body.

Later, it proved he truly was that powerful.

Elise’s cheeks flushed, her gaze grew hazy; her heart thumped hard, beat after beat.

She remembered clearly that among the Poppets released back then, there had been a great many ants.

She looked again at the cup and asked quietly, ”So? Are you?”

The ant didn’t react at all.

Elise very much wanted to take it apart... to see whether the structure of the organs under its shell was identical to a real ant’s.

But when her hand reached out, it paused for a moment, then slowly withdrew.

”Poppets are just tools”—that was what Modis Graves believed.

Rumor had it that because he was suspected of attempting to assassinate Vid Gray, he’d already been arrested and imprisoned by the British Ministry of Magic.

Whereas in Vid Gray’s view... Poppets, to him, should be more like his own children... or partners, perhaps?

Elise drew her hand back, giving up on the idea of dismembering the ant.

She thought: there can’t be many people who can precisely interfere with the signal a Flow Mirror is playing, right?

The Vanderbilt Family’s Alchemists had been trying to crack the Flow Mirror’s technology, but they’d never found the method.

Elise lowered her head with a faint smile, pinched up the little ant, set it on the windowsill, and murmured:

”Go back and tell your master that, if he has time, I’d like to meet him.”

She thought for a moment, then added, ”He’s investigating the Scourers, isn’t he? Tell him—I have a way to counter the Scourers. I just don’t know if he wants to hear it.”

The little ant showed no sign of understanding or responding. It lay dazed on the sill for a moment, turned left and right, then as if finally finding its direction, it scurried rapidly onto the wall.

Elise’s lips held a faint smile. She closed her eyes, sensing that weak yet steady Magic Power traveling downward, soon merging into the mingled magical aura of the manor’s various Magical Plants, animals, tools, and banquet guests, becoming impossible to distinguish.

When there are many people around, that little trace of aura is even more like a few grains of sand in a desert—who would notice it?

She lifted her head, looking at the pale streak of dawn on the horizon, thinking this.

...

The last candle flame looked feeble in the morning light. As the heavy carved wooden doors were slowly pushed open, the exhausted officials dragged legs that felt filled with lead and shuffled out of the conference room.

Footsteps faded, and in the end only two people remained in the war council chamber.

Nikolo Hossun stood before the enormous floor-to-ceiling windows, back to the door, gazing out at New York City as it gradually woke.

Ezra Hughes sat in the third seat on the right-hand side of the long table, his eyes half closed.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and inevitably tinged with defeat:

”We laid out bait, hoping to test the vipers lurking in the dark.”

He stared into the distance, smiling bitterly. ”And what happened... the viper never showed itself, but our own colors were laid bare.”

Although everyone loudly praised his handling of the situation and his composure, that was only the initial reaction.

Hosone knew that in just a few days, voices of mockery and doubt would rise from all directions.

What worried him more was that even with a whole slate of tasks assigned, their chances of catching the enemy were extremely slim.

—The Scourers?

Hosone actually knew very well this wasn’t their doing.

When Ezra Hughes had spoken, he’d given the same judgment: ”Not the Scourers.”

Back in the conference room, they’d never voiced this notion outright. They simply kept reminding everyone—

Ambitious men and people who hate the Magic World are not all Scourers; they mustn’t let down their guard against enemies in the dark.

Because when everyone is in a state like a startled bird, if you rashly dismiss suspicion of the most likely culprit, it’s easy for you yourself to be seen as the enemy’s ”accomplice.”

Only now, when it was just the two of them, could Ezra Hughes state his thoughts openly:

”The Scourers as they are today have already changed. Compared to exposing the Magic World and exterminating Wizards, most of them now are far more eager for the tangible benefits Magic can offer.”

”That kind of frenzied, self-destructive performance doesn’t fit their current logic of action. It looks much more like a frame-up.”

Hosone nodded, then shook his head, his voice hoarse:

”But right now... we can only say the enemy is the Scourers. Having a specific target to aim at is better than groping around blindly in the dark.”

”I understand.” Hughes inclined his head slightly.

Hosone reached out and pushed open the window, letting the cool air pour in and dispel the exhaustion of a sleepless night.

The sky was a heavy pale gray, clouds sagging low over the vast city.

Hosone looked at the countless buildings of varying height and thought: in this beast of a city, just how many ill-intentioned people are hiding?

...

Vid and Antoine stepped out of the revolving door one after the other, followed closely by Victor and Vilan.

Behind them, FMC’s gilded letters gleamed brilliantly, like liquid Gold.

The Poppets said nothing to anyone, quickly crossing the street and soon blending into the morning crowd heading to work.

”Plip!”

Vid felt a chill on his forehead. He tilted his head back, raising a hand to catch a few cold droplets.

”It’s raining.”

”Mm.” Antoine hesitated for a moment, then said, ”Vid...”

”Hm?”

”Mr. Grindelwald is coming to the United States... Are you ready to meet him?”

...

The not-so-wide window was pushed open. Moody took a greedy deep breath and immediately felt his muddled brain clear.

The patter of rain on the sill sounded tranquil and restful.

He turned to look at Kingsley, whose weary face carried a trace of relief, and grinned:

”Not planning to rope the Magic Congress in? They’re much richer than we are!”

”That’s Minister Sinclaire’s view.”

Even after a sleepless night, Kingsley’s tone was still steady and calm:

”He believes... if we wait until the Scourers in the United States really kick up trouble before we present our solution, it’ll be more conducive to... consolidating relations between both sides.”

Moody looked at Kingsley and forced out a short, rasping laugh from deep in his throat. ”Ha!”