Hogwarts: What Bad Intentions Could a Little Hufflepuff Have?

He effortlessly hauled that big fat man up.

Then he viciously threw him into the middle of the street.

The curly-haired girl had been in a state of shock since earlier.

When she saw this scene,

she was so shocked that she could not say a word.

A boy clearly several years younger than her

raised his Wand and unleashed a lightning version of Wild Snake Dance.

He took down every Dark Wizard on the street?

Did I get up too suddenly this morning?

Or am I actually still dreaming?

An eleven-year-old little wizard took down a whole nest of Dark Wizards in one move?

How could I have such a dream?

And...

while muttering to himself,

he lifted a big fat man weighing nearly two hundred pounds

with one hand.

Then he threw him into the middle of the street...

Yes, one hand...

It was only two hundred pounds or so.

How could he not lift that?

The Gandalf template.

The strength of a close-combat mage.

How could it be so inconvenient?

"I must not be awake yet."

Then she started pinching her own arm.

"Ow, that hurts."

"Hm? What's wrong? Are you hurt? I clearly controlled it properly."

Black looked at the curly-haired girl in confusion.

The Weather Spell had been properly controlled.

It should not have hurt this young lady.

The curly-haired girl had pinched herself too hard.

Her eyes filled with tears from the pain.

She blinked her big eyes at Black.

"I... I'm not dreaming?"

"Ding! Detected an extremely shocked emotion."

"Ding! Congratulations, Host, you have obtained one Gold Treasure Chest!"

Dumbledore returned to the Headmaster's office looking exhausted.

He had been traveling all over the place these past few days.

His journey had covered more than half the globe.

He was truly exhausted.

Even though he was still in good health,

he really was getting old.

This kind of exertion was becoming a little too much for him.

He planned to get some proper rest first,

then go to Diagon Alley to see Black.

At the thought of Black,

a warmth rose in Dumbledore's heart.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Dumbledore said tiredly.

Professor McGonagall hurried in.

"Albus... you're finally back."

"All right, after I rest a little, I'll immediately begin handling the school's work," Dumbledore said with a bitter smile.

"Sigh... I didn't come to rush you about work, Albus."

"I only wanted to say that you're no longer young. Let Fudge deal with the Ministry of Magic's affairs himself."

"Thank you for your advice, Minerva. I really should give your suggestion some serious thought."

Professor McGonagall was slightly stunned by those words.

It was not as though she had never made the same suggestion before.

But Dumbledore had always merely thanked her for her concern.

Then he would continue working himself to the bone for the Ministry of Magic...

What was going on today?

He actually said he would consider it?

"Albus... that boy you mentioned last time..."

She took out a letter, the admission letter she had prepared to write for Black.

"Should I address it directly to Black Grindelwald?"

"Write Black Grin. That surname would bring him trouble."

"Understood..."

She put away the envelope, then continued looking at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had said earlier that once he returned,

he would explain the situation to her.

Dumbledore understood what she meant.

"Please, sit."

"Tea or Pumpkin Juice?"

"Tea will be fine, thank you."

Professor McGonagall pulled over a chair and sat opposite Dumbledore.

Dumbledore tapped the desk.

Then a pot of tea and two teacups suddenly appeared on the tabletop.

"This matter... I can tell you, since you saw that surname..."

"However... I ask that you keep this secret."

"This is also for that child's sake..."

"After all, what Grindelwald did has nothing to do with him."

Professor McGonagall nodded.

She also knew what that surname represented.

Naturally, she would not tell anyone else.

But...

That was Grindelwald!

During the days when Dumbledore had not returned,

she had worried constantly every day.

She feared that the peaceful days would be gone forever.

"Don't worry. That man is still obediently staying in Nurmengard."

Dumbledore saw Professor McGonagall's unease.

"This matter is merely a historical issue left behind by Grindelwald."

"All right, if you say so, then I'm relieved." Professor McGonagall let out a breath.

"Then... that child... what is he to Grindelwald?"

As Professor McGonagall spoke, she took a sip of tea.

"Actually... he is not only related to Grindelwald... he is related to both of us..."

"W-what..."

Professor McGonagall frowned.

She did not quite understand what Dumbledore meant.

"Actually... strictly speaking..."

Dumbledore's lips trembled twice.

In the end, he still said it.

"Black... that boy is my son..."

"Pfft!"

Professor McGonagall directly sprayed out all the tea in her mouth.

She stared at Dumbledore in shock.

Her pupils shook!

With Such a Powerful Backer, You Should Have Said So Earlier!

"In other words..."

"Strictly speaking,"

"Black is the... son of you and Grindelwald?"

Dumbledore had already told Professor McGonagall everything that had happened over the past few days.

Since Professor McGonagall had seen that name,

Dumbledore could not possibly keep it from her.

Still, Professor McGonagall truly was someone worthy of trust.

"You've adopted that child... no, you should have brought him back into the Dumbledore family, right?"