Windsor Castle Fire

"It's not just Transfiguration; the lower layer of the stone shell is also engraved with Alchemy Array for sealing and protection. It seems that there are only two ways to open the stone sphere and retrieve the Resurrection Stone intact: either Dumbledore himself breaks the seal, or someone with magical and Alchemy skills surpasses Dumbledore's."

"Of course, this is not absolute. You can also forcefully open the stone sphere with Fiendfyre or the Sword of Gryffindor, but that will destroy the Resurrection Stone hidden inside as well."

Loren held the dark stone sphere up to his eyes, his gaze piercing through the stone's surface to see the complex Alchemy Array inside, analyzing the inner Alchemy.

After his visit to Gaunt's old house, Loren did not return to Hogwarts Castle with Dumbledore. Since he was already out of school, he decided to take advantage of the weekend to go home and enjoy a rare holiday.

Lockhart has a lesson on the Memory Charm on Saturday night, so he can stay until tomorrow afternoon before returning to school.

"Loren, dinner's ready," Bates's voice came from the dining table, full of energy.

Bates placed a wooden bowl and Wooden Spoon on the table, filled with Winky porridge cooked in Sheep Milk. On the table was savory smoked lamb and a plate of colorful wild berries.

He raised his eyebrows smugly. "These wild berries were picked by Wendell and me while we were fishing by the river. I traded all my fish catch today with him for these berries."

It's easy to guess that Wendell took the fish to Monica to show off, boasting that the two of them had caught their own fish.

That's what fishermen are like.

Loren grabbed a handful of wild berries and popped them into his mouth. He immediately shuddered, his brows furrowing at the sourness. "Pah! Don't pick them anymore. The berries here are sour."

"You're just a picky eater. How could it be sour? Wendell and I tasted it before we picked it."

Bates snorted, grabbed a handful, and threw it all into his mouth. His expression instantly turned ferocious, and he shuddered from the sourness. The burst of physalis juice in his mouth made the veins on his neck bulge.

"It's not sour," Bates swallowed with difficulty, forcing a lie, "Not sour at all..."

"Come on, you're so jealous you're practically turning into Werewolf."

"You brat, what are you saying... That's strange, it wasn't sour at the time..."

After finishing his meal, Bates took the remaining berries to the next room to share, saying that they were also the fruits of Wendell's labor and he couldn't keep them all to himself.

Loren sprawled on the sofa, leisurely passing the time with a copy of the Banner Evening News, when an urgent report caught his attention:

On November 20, 1992, a fire broke out at Windsor Castle.

The fire started in a small chapel northeast of the Castle and spread rapidly, with plumes of smoke visible as far as five miles away.

More than 200 firefighters rushed to the scene to extinguish the fire... Prince Andrew, the Queen's second son, who was at the castle when the fire broke out, also joined the human chain to rescue precious artifacts... The world's largest single piece of Victorian-era carpet was also rescued. Prince Andrew was interviewed by reporters at the scene, and he highly praised the people's brave, swift, and effective firefighting efforts.

Brunswick Tower, the private chapel, St. George's Dining Room, Crimson Drawing Room, Chester Tower, and other buildings within the castle were severely damaged by fire. The roof of St. George's Dining Room collapsed, and six famous paintings were destroyed. The losses amounted to tens of millions of Pound Sterling.

"There have been no fatalities in this fire." Loren read the last line of text softly.

The timing of the fire was too coincidental; according to calculations, he and Dumbledore had just left Windsor Castle when the Castle immediately caught fire.

He didn't know how many fire-fighting facilities the castle, which was maintained with huge sums of money every year, had, or whether it was adequately protected against fire, or what the chances were of a fire caused by other factors.

He knew nothing, had no clues, no evidence, but it was all so coincidental that he could figure out without thinking that the fire was related to the House-elf.

He took the only Unicorn Horn in the Castle connected to the Wizarding World, and he was certain the House-elf had no reason to set the Castle ablaze. But it seemed no reason was needed; to a magical House-elf, it might simply be a snap of his fingers.

It was like a long time ago when he stepped on a grasshopper by the roadside while herding sheep on the mountain, without needing any reason.

The fire scene photos in the newspaper were in color, and as Loren ran his fingers over the ink marks, he felt a complex mix of emotions.

To the ordinary world, an insignificant House-elf is like a natural disaster; people have no way to deal with it and can only endure the calamity brought by magic.

To Magical Creatures, Muggle are like grasshoppers that can be easily crushed on the roadside.

To the Wizarding World, human society is like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered...

Loren couldn't arrest the House-elf who committed arson, and Muggle didn't have courts to try House-elf. All his thoughts and ideas were completely forgotten the moment he woke up.

The next day, Loren, carrying a hoe and shovel taller than himself, helped Bates dig holes and fill them with soil in the backyard, planting several low sycamore trees.

He didn't use any magic at all, just like an ordinary Muggle.

Loren squatted down next to the last sycamore tree that had just been filled with soil, watching Bates carry the water hose and pour water onto the soil around the tree's roots.

"Are you sure you're watering them like this? We're transplanting trees, not planting Winky. You're not going to drown them, are you?" Loren asked.

Without even glancing at him, Bates replied in a muffled voice, "Two weeks ago on Arbor Day, the Mayor of London went to Hyde Park to plant trees, Wendell took me to see it. This is how they water them."

Loren muttered, "Politicians' showmanship? Can you believe that? The trees planted by the mayor can come back to life even if they die..."

The autumn air was crisp and clear. The dirt in the backyard was damp from being pounded, and the air still held a chilly moisture, but the leaves of the sycamore trees remained a vibrant green. Squatting under the trees and looking up, the green leaves made the blue sky appear like forget-me-nots, a deep, enchanting blue that drew you in.

After dinner, Loren returned to Hogwarts with a package full of sweets and easily found the trio plotting in Myrtle's Bathroom.

"So you've already identified the monster in the Chamber of Secrets?" Loren popped one chocolate after another into his mouth, his face showing no surprise.

"Yes," Harry said, with a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them to Find Them open in front of him, on the page about the Basilisk. "After Mrs. Norris was attacked, Hermione identified two clues: petrification and snakes. She led us to find the monster based on these two clues. But later she had to focus on brewing Potions, so the task was left to the two of us."

"I ran into Rolf at the Library, and since that's what his family does, I asked him a question, and he immediately pointed out the Basilisk to us." Ron chuckled as he unfolded the page he had torn from the book behind Madam Pince's back.

Hermione smiled and said, "We've already met with Dumbledore, and he said that once most of the students have gone home for the Christmas holidays, there will be a thorough search of the Castle."

Loren's expression was strange. Are you sure Dumbledore isn't just stalling for time by saying that...?

He carefully chose his words: "But Harry, there's still a month until Christmas. According to you, that's enough time for Malfoy —no, enough time for the Basilisk to send half of the Muggle-born Wizard to the Hospital Wing."

He showed them a passage describing the Basilisk's abilities. "Only when the victim's gaze is indirectly met by the Basilisk's gaze, such as through reflection, will they be petrified. Most of the time, anyone who is stared at by its gaze will die instantly."

"Does this mean that Mrs. Norris and Colin were just lucky, while others who encountered the Basilisk probably ended up in the Hospital Wing more than just a hospital?" Loren was putting immense pressure on the three of them, inwardly laughing wildly.

The joy on the three little ones' faces froze.

Loren suppressed a smile and continued, "There's one more thing. What if a full search doesn't find it? Think about it: the Basilisk only comes out when it's attacking; otherwise, it hides in Chamber of Secrets. And for a thousand years, no one has discovered any trace of that Chamber of Secrets. Does a full search guarantee that we'll find Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, got up, and ran towards the Headmaster's office to tell Dumbledore about it.

Hermione pushed herself up, walked to the extinguished crucible, and continued to simmer the Polyjuice Potion without a word.

Loren got up and followed, stuffing snacks into his mouth and feeding Hermione along when she wasn't doing anything.

"Slurp! Where have you been for the past day and a half?" Hermione asked, her mouth full of chocolate, trying to keep it from falling into the cauldron as she spoke.

"Dumbledore took me to visit a senior student. Then I spent the weekend at home."

Loren felt that what he said was completely correct; Tom Riddle's self-introduction was indeed that of a senior, a genuine senior.

Hermione swallowed the chocolate, her tone tinged with envy and a hint of coquetry. "I think I can only go home at Christmas, but the school might be searching for the Basilisk during the Christmas holidays, and I'd like to stay at school to see the Basilisk."

"Go home, what's more important Basilisk going home?" Loren fed him another biscuit.

"But perhaps the Basilisk will only see this once," Hermione sighed softly. For someone as curious as her, this was a difficult choice.

"Maybe we'll find the Basilisk before the Christmas holidays?"

Loren peered into the crucible to check the quality of the Gillyweed and estimated the progress. "Oh dear, looks like it's not going to work. The fire has been off for too long, it'll take twice as long to make up for it."

"Ugh—you're so annoying!"

Nighttime, the corridor.

Loren walked toward Lockhart's office, his footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor, so quiet that it seemed as if he were the only person in the entire corridor.

But it was only an impression.

Previously unprepared, he hadn't noticed, but after Dumbledore's reminder outside Windsor Castle, Loren began to keep an eye on the House-elf' gaze.

Sure enough, as he left the Great Hall after dinner, he felt a strange gaze following him. He planned to ask the House-elf why he had set Windsor Castle on fire after everything was over.

But they couldn't act rashly yet; Dumbledore wanted to keep the people behind the scenes to serve as a whetstone for Harry.

Hidden in the shadows around corners, behind staircases, and within hollow armor, the House-elf moved with remarkable agility within the Castle. Compared to yesterday, the House-elf, now missing a pinky finger on its right hand, closed the distance even further and tracked them more closely.

"The missing finger is my master's punishment for my incompetence. Yes, I deserve to be punished." The House-elf whispered in a low voice, only he could hear it.

He felt the pain in his fingers, and his tone turned venomous. "I hope that damned Muggle wizard doesn't leave the Castle again. If I lose him again, I'll use my head to hatch snake eggs..."

Arriving at Lockhart's office door, Loren knocked before entering. "Good evening, Professor Lockhart."

The office is still filled with portraits and photos of Lockhart, each one with an exquisite smile and radiant appearance.

Lockhart was standing in front of the mirror, fixing his appearance. He was wearing a striking, gorgeous crimson robe and holding a wand. He was striking various cool dueling poses and constantly adjusting his gaze to achieve the best viewing effect.

"Hey, Loren, you've come at the right time! Come help me, which wand-wielding dueling stance do you think looks better?"

Better looking? Shouldn't duel stances be based on ease of casting spells? Loren remained silent.

Lockhart, unconcerned about not receiving a reply, continued shifting his poses in front of the mirror, "You should have seen the notice posted in the Common Room. Tomorrow night at eight o'clock, I will be holding the first event of the Duel Club in the Great Hall."

Loren hadn't visited the Common Room since returning to the Castle, so he was unaware of the Duel Club's situation. He remembered Lockhart's other club. "Professor, is your Career Club still operating?"

"Oh... um..." Lockhart stammered for a moment.

He later learned that, in fact, when the time was right, the Head of House of the Academy would have one-on-one career counseling sessions with the young wizards. In contrast, his lectures were all self-aggrandizing fabrications; the young wizards were only willing to listen to the whole thing because he told good stories and was tempted by the letters of recommendation.

Lockhart tried to justify himself, saying, "I've given all the information the Career Club has to cover to the four Head of House. You'll find out when you're in fifth grade."

He instantly convinced himself, his tone becoming enthusiastic. "That's right, I won't be teaching at Hogwarts for very long. You know, I am, after all, an adventurer. Like a free-spirited wind, an adventurous person won't stay in one place for too long. So I've handed over the Career Club to the four Head of House, and I believe they will carry on my beliefs."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you the Memory Charm." Lockhart patted Loren on the shoulder affectionately and began tonight's lesson...