The next morning, the kitchen was once again piled high with “processed” ingredients.
Vivian stood at the attic doorway, a spatula in her left hand and a wand in her right.
“Listen up, you lot!
Starting today, I’m putting you all on a ‘Balanced Nutrition Plan’!”
“Every one of you must finish your allotted portion of meat.
Look at how scrawny you are—you’d better eat up!
This is an order from the boss!”
The team members looked at the pile of ingredients Evan had “processed,” and their faces turned green.
Augurey steaks, Augurey stew, and a heap of magical creature meat that was completely unrecognizable.
Greyback had a long, miserable face.
“Vivian, eating too much Augurey makes you depressed.
Look at the way it’s staring…
I can’t bring myself to take a bite.”
“Then eat with your eyes closed,” Vivian said, unmoved.
Seeing that Vivian wouldn’t budge, Greyback could only mutter under his breath, “What kind of family eats this stuff first thing in the morning every day…”
“Yeah, I feel like bursting into tears just eating it,” another member chimed in.
“Ugh, I’m stuffed and miserable!”
Claw stared at the Augurey meat on his plate, his brow furrowed.
The moment Vivian turned her back, he quickly used his fork to shove the meat under the table—
“Claw!”
Vivian didn’t even turn around; she just flicked her wand, and the meat flew right back onto Claw’s plate.
“Your punishment is to wash everyone’s dishes today and scrub the kitchen top to bottom!”
“Oh!
No!” Claw wailed.
o(╥﹏╥)o
While Claw was being punished, Greyback had already started eating.
He took a bite of the Augurey meat, chewed twice, and tears began to stream down his face.
“It’s not…
I didn’t want to cry…
this meat…
it’s making me cry on its own…”
The entire breakfast was a symphony of wailing and ghostly howls.
Kyle looked at Lupin with a pained expression.
“I wasn’t even this miserable when I was an Auror on the most dangerous missions.”
Lupin took a calm sip of the Augurey stew and said, while weeping, “At least it’s free.”
After breakfast, Lupin and Kyle headed out.
By noon, they returned with more newcomers.
There were ten of them this time as well.
They were all between thirty and fifty years old, dressed in old robes, and bore various scars and injuries.
One was missing an ear, another walked with a slight limp, and one had an arm wrapped in bandages that couldn’t quite hide the scars left by Dark Magic corrosion.
The leader was a tall, red-haired man with a slight slouch.
He had a noticeable hitch in his step when he walked on his left leg.
“Boss, these are my former colleagues,” Kyle said.
The red-haired man took a step forward.
“I’m Darwin, former Deputy Captain of an Auror squad.” He paused, then added, “Emphasis on ‘former’.”
Evan stood up from his chair, walked over to the ten men, and looked them over one by one.
“How were you injured?”
“Hunting a Dark wizard.
Hit by a curse,” the first man said.
“Magical creature riot.
A Erumpent gored my lung,” the second man said between coughs.
“Dark wizard trap.
Three broken ribs and internal bleeding.”
“I was…”
Their explanations were brief.
Every injury had a story—catching Dark wizards, being cursed while investigating Dark artifacts, or even being “accidentally” injured during internal conflicts within the Ministry.
“What did the Ministry say?” Evan asked.
Darwin was silent for two seconds.
“Medical evaluation determined we were unfit for combat.
They suggested early retirement.
A one-time compensation of two hundred Galleons.”
Two hundred Galleons sounded like a lot, but many of their injuries required long-term treatment.
Money flowed out like water, and it was clear they had already spent it all.
“And then?” Evan asked.
“And then…” Darwin’s lips twitched in an expression that couldn’t quite be called a smile.
“Then no one cared.
When the compensation ran out, we had to pay for treatment ourselves.
We couldn’t find work.
What shop would hire a limping ex-Auror?
Some of us went to the docks to haul crates, some became hired muscle in Knockturn Alley, and some…”
He didn’t finish.
But everyone understood.
After listening, Evan reached into his coat and pulled out an Undetectable Extension Bag.
Silver Sickles poured out like a waterfall.
*Clatter, clatter, clatter—*
Thirty thousand Sickles piled onto the floor, forming a glittering mountain.
A dead silence fell over the attic.
Even though the others had experienced a similar visual shock the night before, they couldn’t help but lose themselves for a moment seeing it again.
Not to mention the ten new ex-Aurors.
They stared at the pile of money, their eyes going wide.
“Take this and find the best Healers to treat your injuries.
As for equipment, I’m giving you all new gear—wands, robes, protective wear, everything.”
“Monthly salary: four thousand Sickles.
Twice what you made as Aurors.”
A collective gasp filled the room.
“There are only two conditions.” Evan looked at them.
“Loyalty and obedience.
Can you do it?”
Darwin was silent for a moment.
Suddenly, the big red-haired man dropped to one knee. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
The nine men behind him followed suit.
“Mr.
Rosier, the Ministry abandoned us.
You are the one giving us a second chance to pick up our wands.” He looked up, and his eyes held something Evan was very familiar with—the look of a person at the end of their rope who had suddenly seen the light.
“From this day forth, our wands move only in the direction you point.”
Evan smiled.
“We’ll see how you perform.
From today, you are the captain of the Third Squad.
Lead them well.”
Darwin nodded solemnly.
In the afternoon, another person arrived at the attic.
Claw walked in, leading a girl.
The girl looked to be about ten or eleven, dressed in plain robes.
She had shoulder-length black hair and delicate features like a porcelain doll.
“Boss, this is my sister, Lilia.
Lilia Valtoria.
She…
she’s also a werewolf.”
Lilia added softly, “I just turned eleven.”
Claw took a half-step forward.
“I wanted to ask a favor.
Let her stay by your side as an attendant.”
“She’s hardworking.
She can cook, sew, and read.
Her magic control is good—better than mine, actually.
And during the full moon, even without the Wolfsbane Potion, her symptoms are mild.
She almost always keeps her reason and won’t hurt anyone.”
Evan didn’t speak.
He walked up to Lilia.
The girl looked nervous; she had been clutching the hem of her robes tightly since she entered.
She raised her amber eyes to meet his.
Evan just looked at her.
Her eyes were like autumn honey, beautiful.
But within them, he saw the wildness unique to the wolf race, like a fire in a cage, burning quietly.
“Why do you want to follow me?”
“My brother said you can keep werewolves fed and let us live with dignity.
And my medicine was bought with your money.
You saved me.” She paused.
“You gave us a chance to start over.
I want to repay you.”
Evan turned to Claw.
“You’re willing to part with her?”
Claw grinned.
“She’s better off with you than with me.”
Evan looked at him for two seconds and then nodded.
“Fine.”
He pulled a coin pouch from his pocket and tossed it to Claw.
“Her monthly salary will be based on the logistics team standard, with room and board included.
Take her to Diagon Alley this afternoon.
Buy her a new set of wizard robes and some daily necessities.
Use that money, and keep the rest for her pocket money.”
When Lilia heard Evan agree, she immediately bowed happily.
“Thank you, Master!”
Evan was momentarily choked up by the word ‘Master.’ “There’s no need to call me ‘Master.’ Call me ‘Sir,’ or just call me by my name.”
Lilia looked up, her large eyes filled with stubbornness.
“You gave me a job and a new life.
You are my Master.
My brother taught me to know gratitude and rules.”
Claw nodded vigorously, reaching out to ruffle his sister’s hair.
Looking at her serious little face, Evan knew he couldn’t win, so he let it go.
“Fine, call me whatever you want.”
“Yes, Master!”
Later that afternoon, Lilia returned with Claw.
She had changed into new clothes, but it wasn’t the wizard robes Evan had expected.
Instead, she wore a crisply tailored maid’s outfit.
The skirt was a practical length for movement, the apron was snow-white, and there were simple dark patterns on the collar and cuffs.
She had tied her hair into a ponytail, revealing a clean neck.
Her entire aura had changed.
“Master, I’m back.”
Evan looked her up and down and raised an eyebrow.
“Good.
Get to work then.”
Claw stood behind his sister, giving Evan a proud “See?
My sister looks great when she gets cleaned up” smile before tactfully exiting.
Lilia began her day’s work.
First, she tidied Evan’s room, making the bed neatly, wiping down the table, and stacking the scattered books.
Her movements were meticulous and swift.
After lunch, she cleared his dishes and scrubbed them clean.
Evan sat on the second-story windowsill, watching.
Lilia brought up a cup of warm milk and placed it gently on the sill next to his hand.
She stood quietly behind him, not talking or interrupting, simply waiting for orders.
Evan took a sip of the milk.
The temperature was perfect.
He suddenly thought that this feeling wasn’t bad at all.
Night fell.
The attic grew quiet.
The new ex-Aurors were settled into empty rooms, and Lilia slept in a small alcove next to Evan’s room.
Evan sat alone in his bedroom, downing his daily “dinner” bottle by bottle.
Outside the window, the night in Knockturn Alley grew deeper.
Faint barks echoed in the distance—someone’s dog, or perhaps something else.
Two hundred bottles, two hundred and fifty, three hundred…
Finally, when he couldn’t drink another drop, there were still over fifty bottles left in his bag.
Evan habitually checked the Broken Interface.
He hadn’t held much hope, but the moment he saw the panel, a slow grin spread across his face.
“Well, hello there.
It’s been a long time!”
Outside, the night sky over Knockturn Alley was starless and moonless, a void of deep black.
Lilia sat in the shadows at the top of the stairs, hugging her knees, quietly keeping watch through the night.
Evan pushed open his bedroom door.
“Go to sleep, Lilia.
You don’t need to keep watch at night from now on.”
“But, Master…”
“Go to sleep.”
Lilia obediently stood up, patted her robes, and walked toward her alcove.
“Goodnight, Master.
Please rest well too.”
“Mm.”
Evan watched Lilia return to her room.
“Starting tomorrow, it’ll be a whole new day,” he whispered to himself.
The reflection of the candlelight in his eyes was like the first star lighting up in the dark.
***
Hogwarts, Deputy Headmistress’s Office.
After dinner, Professor McGonagall was once again disturbed by the alarm charm.
This time, she didn’t rush out in a panic.
She had grown accustomed over the last two days to the Book of Admittance and the Quill of Acceptance acting up every night.
She picked up her wand and headed toward the storage room.
Pushing the door open, she froze.
The Book and Quill, which should have been “dancing” frantically, were lying quietly on the stone pedestal.
There was no wild flipping of pages, no epileptic shaking, and no ink splattering everywhere.
The silence was almost unsettling.
Professor McGonagall stepped forward quickly and looked down at the Book of Admittance.
A new name had been written in its entirety.
[Evan Rosier, 11 years old]
Followed by a line of small text for the address: [Attic, 7 Old Bat Alley, Knockturn Alley]
This time, the name didn’t flicker, it didn’t disappear, and it didn’t jump around.
It remained steadily on the parchment.
“Has it finally stabilized?” Professor McGonagall lingered for a few more seconds before turning to leave.
At that moment, Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, eating Lemon Drops.
Seeing McGonagall enter, he pushed the bowl toward her.
“Minerva, perfect timing.
I just bought these today.
Would you like one?”
“No, thank you.
I came to tell you that the Book of Admittance has stopped acting up tonight.”
“Is the name written?”
“Yes, completely.
Evan Rosier.
Address: Attic, 7 Old Bat Alley, Knockturn Alley.”
Dumbledore was silent for a moment.
“Rosier…” he repeated softly.
“Casper Rosier’s son?”
“Presumably,” McGonagall said, frowning.
“But I recall there was already a child from the Rosier family recorded in the book for this generation,” Dumbledore said, popping another Lemon Drop.
“Yes, Peter Rosier.
He’s ten this year and hasn’t reached enrollment age.
But this Evan is already eleven.
Being recorded just now means his magical threshold only just met the requirement!”
“I see.
Regardless, as long as the name is written in the book, he is entitled to an acceptance letter.” Dumbledore stood up and walked to the window.
Outside, the night was deep, and the Black Lake shimmered under the moonlight.
“Indeed.
But tomorrow is the 31st.
If we send an owl now, I’m afraid he won’t be able to reply before September 1st,” McGonagall noted.
“Then we won’t send a letter.
I’ll go personally,” Dumbledore said, turning around.
McGonagall blinked.
“You’re going?”
“Yes, I’m going!”
“Sending an owl to Knockturn Alley isn’t safe.”
“Besides, I’m quite curious.
What could be so special about a child who caused the Book of Admittance to malfunction for days?”
“It is indeed unsafe.
We sent an acceptance letter to Knockturn Alley yesterday morning, and so far, we haven’t received a reply, and the owl hasn’t returned.”
“Then let’s go check on that as well.
What was the name?” Dumbledore asked.
“Lilia Valtoria.
She’s a werewolf,” McGonagall said.
“A werewolf?
Like Remus back then?”
“Yes.
It seems the Shrieking Shack will be hosting another young wizard soon.”
“By the way, if you’re going to Knockturn Alley, what about Harry Potter?
We haven’t received his reply either.”
“Let Hagrid go.
It was Hagrid who delivered Harry to Number 4 Privet Drive in the first place.
It’s only fitting he returns in the same way.
And—” He looked back and winked at McGonagall.
“Hagrid loves this sort of mission.”