Chapter 1239: Special Commissioner

Chapter 1239 -55: Special Commissioner

In the evening, Hogwarts was shrouded under a light gray sky, with the castle windows lighting up with warm yellow lights one by one.

The train slowly stopped at the station, the night wind swept over from the lake carrying a damp fishy smell, making many people shiver in unison.

Vid had just stepped down from the carriage when he heard a rough voice piercing through the darkness from afar:

“Children, come this way! The carriages are up ahead, don’t push… hey, lad, watch your cat!”

In the twilight, Hagrid’s tall figure was like a moving mountain, with the hound Fang excitedly circling around his feet.

He used two fingers to pinch a wilted cat, and a Gryffindor student dashed over to take back his cat from Hagrid’s hand with an embarrassed smile.

Vid followed the crowd to the waiting area for the carriages. As he passed Hagrid, he heard Luna’s slightly drifting voice:

“Professor Hagrid, you’re injured.”

The blonde girl looked up at Hagrid, her silvery-gray eyes focused on Hagrid’s face as she asked:

“Did you get injured by the long-haired tapir while taming them on the savannah?”

Vid turned his head to see in the dim light of the lanterns that Hagrid’s face, mostly covered by a bushy beard, still showed criss-crossed bruises.

There was a circle of blue around his eyes, a scabbed long cut on his cheekbone, and his nose was clearly swollen higher than usual.

Upon hearing Luna’s words, Hagrid seemed taken aback and confusedly said, “Savannah what?”

He touched his own face, his mouth twitched painfully, then continued in a nonchalant tone:

“Oh, this… nothing, nothing, dealing with magical creatures like me, getting injured is unavoidable!”

“Come, come, children, get on the carriage! Don’t block the way here!”

Hagrid waved his huge hands as if trying to herd people onto the carriages.

Luna nodded thoughtfully, and the surrounding students also withdrew their curious gazes.

Indeed, compared to Professor Kettleburn who once had only a limb and a half left, Hagrid’s injuries were really negligible.

Vid was somewhat surprised—Hagrid’s level of concealing the truth seemed to have significantly improved!

The crowd began to move slowly once more.

As the carriage creaked and wobbled, the students finally returned to the warmth of the castle.

Some of the younger students who couldn’t quite use magic spells had frost already forming on their eyelashes as they shivered in the cold wind while disembarking.

Fortunately, the Hogwarts hall never disappoints the students.

Countless floating candles spread soft light across the space, the air warm enough to make people let out sighs, with the tableware on the four house long tables glistening silver.

“Leian! Over here!” Someone waved at the Hufflepuff Long Table.

“Michael, did you receive my owl during the holidays?” Several girls from Ravenclaw asked enthusiastically.

Someone even walked up to Vid, loudly thanking him for the Little People Country tickets he gifted them.

The students settled down in twos and threes, the sound of chatter, laughter, and chairs dragging mingling into the school’s unique liveliness.

Vid strode through the aisle between the long tables, his gaze sweeping across the teacher’s table.

Dumbledore sat in the center behind the long table, half-moon spectacles perched on his nose, with his silver-white beard shining softly under the candlelight.

He smiled kindly, watching the students as they chaotically entered the hall, as if he had always been there.

Vid was somewhat surprised, thinking that at this time Dumbledore should be busy in Kosovo. But now it seemed that the start of the term event was indeed important, making him come across half of Europe.

Then Vid saw another person.

To Dumbledore’s left sat a familiar young man.

His fiery red hair was meticulously groomed, with any stray strands fixed with hair gel at the back, revealing a clean forehead—reminiscent of Barty Crouch from the past.

His brand-new deep blue robe was well-tailored, made with quality material, reflecting especially smooth luster under the light.

On his left chest, he proudly wore a shining badge, adjusting it from time to time to ensure it catches the light.

That was Percy Weasley.

He sat upright, his back straight, chin slightly raised, his gaze sweeping slowly over the students who were seating themselves at the four long tables, with an evaluative, scrutinizing look.

Vid, across a table, could hear the twins deliberately making mocking noises.

But Percy seemed to completely ignore it, maintaining a perfectly polite smile, precisely measured as if using a ruler.

Vid withdrew his gaze, moving unnoticed towards the front end of the Ravenclaw Long Table.

As he took his seat, he could just hear the voices drifting over from the teacher’s table—

“As far as I know, Hogwarts’ fireplace was last renovated in the 14th century, and the piping system was unified and remodeled in the 18th century.”

Percy slightly raised his chin, as if this were his first time at Hogwarts, officially stating:

“I must say, these systems are very outdated. Furthermore, they haven’t undergone professional safety assessments for nearly a century, posing significant risks.”

“You make a valid point, Mr. Weasley. Thank you for your concern for student safety.”

Dumbledore courteously, even with some approval, replied: “I’ll have Mr. Filch check the logs in the fireplace to see if there’s a tendency for spontaneous combustion.”

“By the way, there’s a bathroom on the second floor of the castle that’s broken; I wonder if the Ministry could send someone to repair it?”

Percy’s smile stiffened, blurting out: “Isn’t that because of Moaning Myrtle?”

Later, under Dumbledore’s calm gaze, his face turned as red as if it were on fire.

Percy pretended to cough twice, then quickly turned to the other side.

Professor McGonagall was sitting there, deeply disappointed and angry, her lips pressed into a line, making the Gryffindors’ voices drop by eight degrees.

“Vice Principal Mcgonagall.”

Percy said very politely: “The Ministry believes that Hogwarts should strengthen the review of faculty qualifications.”

“Your qualifications are naturally impeccable, but as far as I know, certain subjects—such as Defense Against the Dark Arts—have seen frequent personnel changes in recent years, with several professors even committing serious crimes during their tenures and ending up in Azkaban.”

“The Ministry wishes to understand the school’s future long-term plans for this position, as well as Hogwarts’ procedures and norms for recruiting Defense Against the Dark Arts professors.”

“You know… we can’t be too cautious given Ilvermorny’s past experience.”

“Faculty is the group most familiar with student information, so they are the focus of our investigation this time…”

Percy rambled on, and at the other end of the long table, Frank Longbottom frowned as he looked over, the usual warmth on his face disappearing.

His wife, Alice, quietly held his hand to calm him.

Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall slowly turned her head, her gaze like icy daggers on Percy’s face.

She hadn’t spoken yet, but the silence itself was enough to make all the Gryffindors shudder.

Percy’s smile tightened slightly, he hurriedly said:

“Of course, I fully understand that the school operates under its unique rules, we can discuss this matter later.”

“Speaking of which—”

His gaze swept over the many students in the hall, his smile lifting a few degrees as he said:

“Returning to school is truly a nostalgic experience.”

“I didn’t expect I could see this opening scene again so soon—as a Ministry of Magic special officer.”

“It’s quite a coincidence, it was precisely because of my contributions in Peter Pettigrew’s case that Minister Sinclaire noticed me. That period was indeed tough, working overtime until early morning for several weeks to sort out the case clues…”

He spoke as if humbly.

Professor McGonagall’s lips twitched slightly, while Snape let out a snort from deep within his nasal cavity, his eyelids not lifting even a bit.