Not Well-Behaved at All

As you step into the bar, a wave of hot air mixed with the aroma of red wine hits you. Above the fireplace stands a large black tin barrel, inside which steaming red wine is simmering.

To their surprise, Loren and his companions found Minister Fudge, whom they had just been cursing, also there. He was wearing a pinstripe cloak and a dark yellow-green bowler hat, and was sitting at the bar talking to Madam Rosmerta. Professor McGonagall, who had taken off her hat, was sitting next to him.

Hagrid and Professor Flitwick sat a little further away, seemingly not wanting to get involved in their conversation.

Because of the minister's arrival, there were far fewer customers in the bar. The male customers who usually surrounded Madam Rosmerta were all gone, and the noisy chatter was replaced by gentle and polite conversation. The usually crowded bar even looked a bit more spacious.

The wizards who went to the bar to get their drinks would always add, "May Merlin bless you, beautiful lady!"

For a few seconds, Loren thought this wasn't a street bar, but some upscale club.

Hermione gave the boys a look, and they all found a seat on the right side of the bar. Hermione moved the decorative Christmas to their table, making sure the professor wouldn't notice it because of the thick foliage.

"Your Redcurrant Rum is ready, Minister." Madam Rosmerta's voice was as soft and gentle as mulled wine, tickling the ears.

"Thank you, Rosmerta, darling," Fudge said in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I must say, it's so good to see you again. Why don't you come have a drink with us..."

"Oh, thank you so much, Minister." Madam Rosmerta's smile grew even brighter. "What brings you to this remote place, Minister?"

"Logically, I can't tell you, but what can I do? You're Rosmerta, my dear." Fudge smiled, removed his top hat and placed it beside him, then glanced around as if checking to see if anyone was eavesdropping before whispering.

"What else could it be but Bellatrix Lestrange? Honey, you've heard, haven't you? That crazy woman and Wormtail Peter showed up at poor Flume's shop and terrified him."

"But Peter has already been Dementor's Kiss, and I've heard that Mrs. Lestrange has been loitering around Gringotts in Diagon Alley lately." Madam Rosmerta looked at Fudge with pitiful eyes. "You know that Dementor patrol my bar every night, and they've scared all my customers away... It's bad for business, Minister."

"Rosmerta, darling, I don't like them either..." Fudge said awkwardly.

Perhaps the fireplace in the bar was burning too brightly; Fudge's chubby face was flushed from the alcohol. He took off his pinstripe cloak and downed the rum in his glass in one gulp. "Darling, I can't recall the Dementor. Besides some reasons I can't tell you, the more important thing is to lower her guard and prevent that Death Eater woman from noticing..."

"Let me tell you, my dear, Wizengamot has already negotiated with the goblins of Gringotts, and we can open the Lestrange Vault during the Christmas holidays, albeit with Dumbledore ..."

"More importantly!" Fudge raised his voice slightly, somewhat excitedly, "We plan to capture her during the Christmas holidays, Dumbledore promised me that Hogwarts professors would assist the Aurors— "

"Minister!" Professor McGonagall said sharply, "Do you really have to say it here?"

Fudge's face stiffened for a moment, then turned even redder. He glanced at Professor McGonagall with some annoyance, his temples throbbing, but he said nothing.

Madam Rosmerta promptly handed him a fresh glass of Redcurrant Rum, and with a bright smile, said a few words to Fudge, once again making him beam with joy.

After having two more drinks, Fudge put on his top hat, fastened his cap, and left with a satisfied smile.

The other professors finished their drinks and left the bar as well.

"Did you hear that? Fudge said he's going to arrest Bellatrix on Christmas..."

Hermione withdrew her voyeuristic gaze, turned her head and saw that the boys' Butterbeer glasses were empty, and she fell silent for a moment with a subtle expression.

"Do you want more drinks? I'll go get some!" Ron stood up abruptly and headed excitedly towards the bar.

Ha, a boy...

Hermione glared at Loren angrily for a few moments. "Were you even listening to anything?"

"Eavesdropping and drinking Butterbeer don't have to go hand in hand..." Loren muttered under his breath. "I heard it. Bellatrix Lestrange is loitering near Gringotts. The Ministry of Ministry of Magic's professors are trying to catch her..."

He found the interaction between Fudge and Madam Rosmerta more interesting; one wanted to take advantage of the Minister for Magic's influence, while the other enjoyed the praise of the beautiful tavern owner and satisfied her vanity.

However, judging from the performance just now, Madam Rosmerta almost completely dominated Fudge.

"Will the professors succeed?" Hermione asked.

"I don't think that Death Eater will be caught so easily. Knockturn Alley, which is right Diagon Alley, is a hiding place for many dark wizards, not to mention that Voldemort has an informant in the Ministry of Magic."

"Speaking of which, I'm more curious about why Wormtail Peter didn't go back to Voldemort's side after failing, and instead lingered in Diagon Alley?" Hermione asked thoughtfully.

"Perhaps something is attracting her..." Harry's casual reply suddenly stopped. He remembered when Quirrell attacked Gringotts in their first year to steal the Sorcerer's Stone.

But the Sorcerer's Stone is gone...

"It's Horcrux! She's looking for Horcrux!" Harry suddenly exclaimed.

Ron returned happily with four glasses of Butterbeer, handing them out with a smile as he said, "Madam Rosmerta spoke to me, and her voice was so lovely!"

No one paid him any attention. Hermione nodded thoughtfully and said, "I think so too. The Lestrange are infamous Death Eater. If Voldemort was willing to entrust the Horcrux Diary to Lucius Malfoy, he would certainly be willing to entrust the other Horcrux to the Lestrange as well."

Ron's eyes widened. "Death Eater? Horcrux? What are you talking about?"

"It's quite surprising that Bellatrix Lestrange would keep something so important in Gringotts ' underground vault..." Harry blew on the foam on top of his Butterbeer and took a small sip.

"Hey!" Ron glared at them angrily. "Can someone explain to me what you two were talking about during the two minutes I was gone?"

Hermione hadn't finished her original cup, but it had gone cold, so she took the new one.

Loren drank the foamy hops along with the drink, finding the salty-sweet foam somewhat like milk foam, and quite delicious. "It's not unexpected. During the time when Voldemort fell, the Ministry of Magic was cracking down on Death Eater everywhere, so Lestrange's house was definitely not safe. Putting it in the goblins' underground vault would be much safer."

"You! You!"

Ron finally understood that none of these people would explain things to him, so he sat down angrily and listened while analyzing and speculating about the situation.

Harry frowned and asked in confusion, "Why do we have to wait until the Christmas holidays?"

"I mean, even if the goblins of Gringotts don't know about Horcrux, they should know that Lestrange's underground vault contains Dark Arts items that Death Eater value, and that they're even willing to risk being recaptured and sent back to Azkaban for them—why not just open the vault and hide the contents back in for criminals like that?"

"Because the core of our laws is the inviolability of private property, and this is related to Gringotts ' business reputation," Hermione explained. "They must protect the treasures in everyone's vaults, even if the owner of the vault is a Death Eater. Only then will people be willing to trust Gringotts and store their Galleons in Galleons Gringotts' vaults, rather than hiding them in their own family's vaults."

"Oh, we don't have that problem. We don't have Galleons to save up, and we don't have a treasure vault... My dad usually hides his secret stash in the attic," Ron said with a chuckle.

Loren gave him a strange look, and he could detect a strange sense of smugness in his tone.

"I still don't understand, Hermione. She's a Death Eater," Harry said quietly.

"For example, if Professor Black," Hermione paused, glancing at Loren before continuing, "If Professor Black were imprisoned in Azkaban and his vaults were confiscated, would you still receive Firebolt from the Godfather?"

"But he was wrongly accused—" Harry suddenly froze. He seemed to understand something, but not quite, and fell into a daze of thought.

"That's how it is. Although I also think there's something wrong with these rules, I haven't figured out the hidden relationships yet. Maybe in the future..." Hermione said in words that others couldn't understand, and slowly fell into thought.

Loren sipped his piping Butterbeer, pondering the matter of the Hufflepuff's Cup.

After Quirrell's attack on Gringotts, the goblins strengthened the defenses of the underground vaults, but whether they strengthened them or not probably made little difference, since Harry and his friends were able to break in anyway.

Dumbledore must have guessed that the Lestrange Vault might contain a Horcrux, and with his power, even if all the goblins in the world gathered at Gringotts, they wouldn't be able to stop him.

As for why he didn't use inappropriate methods to enter the treasure vault and destroy the Horcrux, it's probably because of his own psychological imprisonment.

Ron's gaze darted back and forth between his three friends' faces, looking left and right, and he couldn't help but feel a little anxious:

"Speak up! Speak up! Why are you all silent again?"

It seems like only a blink of an eye, and the holiday is already here.

Fine, powdery snow piled up on the Castle roof like white caps, looking like cakes sprinkled with icing sugar. White ice crystals hung from the branches of trees in the Forbidden Forest, making each tree shimmer with silver Winky.

Inside the Castle, the colorful Christmas decorations were set up as in previous years, and thick strips of lights made of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, with mysterious lights flickering inside each suit of armor. Hagrid dragged a full twelve trees to the Great Hall, and Professor Flitwick adorned them with Winky golden stars.

On the morning of the first day of the holiday, in the boys' dormitory.

Harry and Ron didn't bother their roommates who were packing to go home. Loren, Neville, and Seamus had almost finished packing last night, and they only needed to tidy up their pajamas and bedding this morning.

Seamus asked Loren, "Aren't you going to take care of your Animagus Secret Potion anymore?"

Loren glanced out the window at the swirling, goose-feather-like snowflakes and replied, "Judging from the current temperature, there won't be any thunderstorms at Hogwarts for at least a few months."

"That makes sense."

Neville suddenly turned around and asked, "Seamus, do you want Mandrake Leaf? I can buy some in Diagon Alley and send them to you with an owl."

"No need." Seamus smiled sheepishly. "You forgot, Dean and I aren't members of the Teaching Class."

"Oh right, sorry."

"No need to apologize. Animagus is too difficult and arduous. We gave up after thinking about it. I'll just focus on studying the Blasting Curse."

Suddenly remembering something, Loren said mysteriously to Neville, "I advise you to stay away from Diagon Alley during your vacation, especially Gringotts."

Neville was taken aback. "Why?"

"In short, stay away." Loren didn't explain it too clearly.

The Lumbard couple are now prominent figures in the Aurors community, so they must have ways of knowing about the Diagon Alley operation, especially since the target is Bellatrix Lestrange. They will naturally restrict the whereabouts of that silly boy.

He will not be released to Diagon Alley until at least the arrest operation is over.

The three of them talked as they dragged the empty suitcases downstairs.

The young wizards came and went in the Common Room; compared to them, those with Storage Scale had it much easier. Seeing Hermione waiting on the sofa, Neville and Seamus tactfully left first.

Loren walked over and scooped the owl out of the cage, rubbing his face against the soft down on the little Spectacled Owl's chest. "Hānhan boy, are you going to come with us on the train, or are you going to fly back by yourself?"

The little Spectacled Owl Hānhan its wings to push his face away, chirped a few times, and flapped its wings to land on Hermione's trunk handle.

"Hānhan, hehe..." Loren grabbed a large, fluffy ginger-yellow cushion from the sofa, ignoring the kitten's resistance, and rubbed his front paws against Crookshanks's soft belly:

"Crookshanks, are you going to come home with us by train, or are you going to spend Christmas at school?"

A hint of human helplessness flashed in Crookshanks's eyes. After struggling for a moment, he landed on the ground and found a spot to lie down at Loren's feet.

"Crookshanks so good!" Loren chuckled twice more, then turned his gaze to Hermione, leaning in to nuzzle her hair. "Hermione, are you going to—"

Before she could finish speaking, Hermione pushed her away. She rolled her eyes, picked up her suitcase, and headed towards the exit of the lounge.

"Oh dear, Hermione is not well-behaved at all."