If You're Not Satisfied, We Can Talk

[To Loren Morgan:]

I can imagine the look of surprise on your face when you receive this letter. After all, what wizard in the world wouldn't feel honored to receive a letter from the Dark Lord? Be thankful, child, you are fortunate enough to have this privilege.

Perhaps you're wondering about the wax seal on the envelope. Let me explain; it's a small pleasure in my long life. After more than a decade, I've regained a human body that I can fully control, and I don't want to waste it on pointless hiding. If the Ministry of Magic hadn't suppressed this news, I think you've probably guessed it: Wormtail Peter's body is in my hands.

Isn't this quite interesting...? You once asked me for Wormtail, and I delivered it to Hogwarts Castle as promised. It's quite unexpected that you'd reciprocate with such a delightful gift. I've decided to use it for something interesting. Yes, right now I'm writing in Ilvermorny's Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's office.

Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was founded by descendants of Slytherin, perhaps even in accordance with his will. Sadly, its Founders, Aesop Thale, stole the Snakewood Wand from her aunt, Gomley Gaunt —a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin. This foreign bloodline twisted the will of the Gaunt family, and Aesop Thale found a Muggle husband to share this honor with her.

Now, it is only right and proper for me to inherit this glory and receive the gift of the First Ancestor. It has even gone so smoothly that I have begun to suspect that all of this was arranged by the great Slytherin through Prophecy.

Please forgive me for bringing up so many old stories. In my opinion, only you, Loren Morgan, a descendant of the Fairy Morgan, can understand the joy in my heart... Besides conveying my gratitude to you, the Dark Lord, I want to know what the Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts is teaching now— Ilvermorny is too deeply influenced by Muggle, and the young wizards here are being pushed in the wrong direction. I have an obligation to guide them— Hogwarts ' curriculum is somewhat outdated under the influence of that old wizard Dumbledore, but it is worth learning from.

It must be noted that I completed the third-grade curriculum through self-study in my first year of school, and given how much time has passed, I really can't recall what "common sense" I should have taught these young wizards.

We'll see each other again soon. Thank you again for your gift.

After reading the letter, Loren frowned slightly.

Voldemort specifically mentions Wormtail Peter at the beginning of the book, and states with certainty that he was the one who caused Wormtail to look like that, without any intention of questioning.

But this was just a test. If he didn't give a direct answer, Voldemort would take it as an evasion and become even more convinced of his suspicions.

If he deliberately wrote extensively to refute the matter, or claimed to know nothing about it, Voldemort could deduce and infer from the words in his reply...

Furthermore, the subsequent vague mentions that he seemed to have designs on Ilvermorny, his request for guidance on the lower-level curriculum of Defence Against the Dark Arts, and the straightforward signature at the end of the letter all conveyed a sense of probing.

Loren slowly folded the letter and tucked it into the yellowed envelope, trying to analyze Voldemort's thoughts in his mind.

Testing the waters about the Wormtail...

To test whether he would betray him to Dumbledore and reveal his identity...

Testing whether he would cooperate with Voldemort...

"These old silver coins are such a hassle..." Loren muttered, pouting. All the games and analyses he had been thinking about were making him feel a bit tired.

"What did you say?" Hermione turned her head and looked at him in confusion.

"It's nothing..." Loren shook his head, thinking that only Old Silver Coin was suitable to deal with Old Silver Coin. "I have to go see Headmaster Dumbledore again."

"... It seems that Tom has finally achieved his goal of becoming the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor."

Dumbledore finished reading the letter in a low voice, his crooked nose adorned with silver-framed glasses, and his deep blue eyes gleamed with a smiling light behind the lenses.

He looked up at Loren and asked, feigning confusion, "Is my style really outdated? To be honest, I've always felt that I'm still very young at heart, and there's no generation gap between me and a sixth-year wizard... well, maybe a few years more, but at most a newly graduated wizard."

"A newly graduated wizard wouldn't have such a long white beard," Loren bluntly pointed out, his face expressionless. "You should think about what to do with this letter. Should we alert the Ilvermorny school administration as soon as possible?"

"I think we don't need to rush..."

Dumbledore put down the letter, slowly picked up his teacup, blew on it to cool it, and took a small sip of the thick, hot maple syrup. "Although Tom's soul is shattered and little of his humanity remains, one can still glimpse some remnants of humanity in his past actions and in this letter... though they may appear to be dirty and twisted."

"I'm sorry, Headmaster, Hogwarts does not offer courses in literary appreciation or code-breaking," Loren said quietly.

"A brilliant irony..." Dumbledore couldn't help but laugh with delight, and began to explain his thoughts in detail, "Voldemort is proud of the Slytherin bloodline. He won't destroy the magic school founded by the descendants of Slytherin. He will probably reform the school in a way he thinks is better, perhaps after he becomes the headmaster of Ilvermorny, or perhaps after he informs the Wizarding World. In any case, not now... So the teachers and students of Ilvermorny should be relatively safe."

"On the contrary, if we expose his disguise now, it will be more disadvantageous for us if he disappears into the shadows again. It will be disadvantageous for Ilvermorny and his students, and it will also be disadvantageous for you."

"Then how should I reply to him?" Loren asked.

"Hmm..." Dumbledore glanced at the envelope on his desk and replied thoughtfully, "I think we don't need to reply. Just send him a copy of your Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks from first to third year, and don't say anything else."

Is that all?

"That's enough..." Dumbledore's voice softened, his pace slowed, and his deep blue eyes grew even more profound. "Don't worry, Loren, I'll see him myself this summer. Soon, very soon..."

After Loren packed up the textbooks for grades one through three and was about to head to the Owlery to deliver the package, Dumbledore decided to add two more Muggle books to the parcel:

Emile – Rousseau

The Republic – Plato

January turned into February before we knew it. The ice and snow had completely melted, but the biting cold weather remained unchanged.

Weekend Potions Club classes.

Loren sat near the skylight in the Dungeon Classroom, waving his quill pen as he listened attentively to the lesson.

The air in the Dungeon Classroom was even colder and more biting than outside. There was no fireplace in the classroom, and since this was a theory class, they couldn't huddle around the cauldron to warm themselves. Loren had the soft black scarf Hermione had given him wrapped around his neck, which made him feel much warmer.

Outside the skylight lay the dark, deep waters of the Black Lake. Loren remembered how, in their first year, the young Gryffindor wizards always hoped that the fragile glass windows would suddenly shatter, and the icy waters of the Black Lake would pour down, flooding the evil Dungeon Classroom, the evil Slytherin Common Room and dormitories.

But this dream has not yet been realized, and with the increase in magical knowledge, the hope of realizing it has become increasingly slim.

"That concludes the explanation of the principles governing the interactions between Magic Power Potions ingredients..."

"After class, analyze a high-level Potions in detail based on the content of this lesson, clarify the mechanism of its Magic Power effect, and write a paper that is no less than five feet long. In addition, continue to practice the step-by-step process of Potions making, Potions formula optimization, and knowledge related to Potions research and development."

Professor Snape's voice was as calm and even as ever, with no fluctuation in volume, but it inexplicably had the quality of an aria.

Despite being assigned a lengthy paper, Loren was still in a good mood, mainly because he no longer had to brew Wolfsbane Potion or come into contact with those foul-smelling oddities.

It seems that Dumbledore had specifically instructed him to take over the preparation of the wolfsbane potion, Professor Lupin was at a crucial stage in his training of the Animagus. To prevent any mishaps that could ruin the entire process, Professor Snape took over the task of brewing the Wolfsbane Potion Wolfsbane Potion.

The young wizards sat in their seats, sorting through their notes for the day. Only after Professor Snape put away his books and left the Dungeon Classroom did the other young wizards slowly get up. Loren and Hermione followed the crowd up the stairs back to the first floor. Walking down the corridor, they could see the courtyard landscape. The bushes and some tall trees had already sprouted tender leaves and were nurturing new branches.

At the base of the wall, where the sun shines brightly, several daffodils and unidentified camellias have already bloomed.

The faint, cool fragrance was enough to make the young wizards stop and linger.

"There's still some time before lunch. How about we stay in the courtyard instead of going back to the Common Room?" Loren turned to Hermione with great interest.

"Okay, let's go to that pavilion."

Hermione peeked out and found a secluded spot.

Hermione wore a scarf given to her by Loren, a fluffy, thick red knit that was soft and fluffy, matching her voluminous curly hair perfectly. She could easily hide half her face in the scarf when she lowered her head, and the fine, downy hairs on it made Hermione look quite soft.

The two sat down on a set of steps, stretching their legs side by side. Loren leaned back and used his hands to support his balance, while Hermione leaned forward slightly to observe the first batch of daffodils in early spring.

It wasn't a stunningly beautiful flower, but after months of being surrounded by a blanket of white snow, seeing these vibrant little flowers sprouting from the ground filled me with joy. The tender yellow flowers peeked out from the low bushes, their petals still glistening with dewdrops, while the newly sprouted leaves were a striking emerald green, in no way less vibrant than the flowers.

Loren has always been very patient with these kinds of things, not just flowers and plants, but also the little insects and moths on them, which he can look at for half a day.

There are no small moths or caterpillars this season, but you can see a few small snails that haven't grown up yet, slowly moving their little houses on their backs, their two antenna-like eyes swaying gently, and when they touch something, they wriggle and shrink back inside.

I've heard that if a snail's eyes are brightly colored, it means it's been infested with parasites.

Loren leaned closer to look and even gently touched it. Stimulated, the snail slowly retracted into its shell and remained motionless for a long time.

Um...

It doesn't appear to have been parasitized.

Loren began to examine the antennae of the next snail with great interest.

Hey, you know what, this little thing is really strange.

If you touch its antennae with a leaf or twig, the snail will pause for a while and then start moving again. But if you touch it with your hand, the snail will stay put and refuse to come out.

Hermione glanced at his delighted expression, making sure he could play like this until lunchtime. She then pulled her legs back, took out her Transfiguration notebook, and began to ponder the densely filled notes.

Despite having consulted Professor McGonagall, practicing Human Transfiguration was still quite difficult. What worried her most was the lack of a practice target; she wasn't sure if she could succeed without trying.

What if Loren turns into a kitten even uglier Crookshanks?

Hermione glanced at the big idiot next to her, engrossed in playing with the little snail, and sighed helplessly.

I really don't know how this person succeeded back then; he didn't even have a practice target.

Hearing the sigh, Loren quickly turned his head and, taking advantage of Hermione's distracted state while staring at her notebook, tiptoed up behind Hermione and crouched down to peek at what was written in her notebook.

"Human Transfiguration... Munchkin cat, Ragdoll cat..."

Loren's eyes widened as he read, and he was completely stunned.

She actually wanted to use Human Transfiguration to turn herself into a cat, one of those soft, cuddly kittens. Human Transfiguration, the kind where you can't change back on your own!

The ice and snow had melted in early spring, but Loren had never felt this cold, not even in winter.

When Hermione turned around, she saw him pointing his index finger at his nose, trembling uncontrollably.

Loren angrily rebuked, "Well, you Hermione Granger, you actually tried to murder me?"

Hermione looked away, feeling guilty for a few seconds. Realizing she couldn't find a suitable excuse, she simply stopped pretending and straightened up confidently. "How is this murder? I was just learning about Human Transfiguration."

"Then swear that you never thought of turning me into a cat, and that you will never do so in the future!"

"I don't!"

Hermione tilted her head back, but the thick scarf covered her entire neck, making the gesture look less imposing and more endearing.

Loren swiftly reached out and snatched the notebook from her arms, attempting to stop Hermione's evil plan by hiding it.

Hermione blinked. "You know, I have a pretty good memory."

"..." Loren gripped the notebook tightly and took a few deep breaths in anger.

Hermione's eyes darted around a few times, then she smiled gently and leaned closer, placing her hand on his shoulder. She whispered, "How about we make a deal, a pact, like the Mandrake?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed slightly, but the temptation before her was too great, and she tried her best to suppress her shyness. "If you turn into a cat and play with me for a while every week, I won't continue learning Human Transfiguration... What do you think?"

"You wish!" Loren glanced at her. "I'd rather duel you with Transfiguration and the loser become a cat pet."

Hermione's eyes flickered with panic; if it really came down to a duel, she felt her chances of winning were very slim.

"If you're not satisfied with the terms, then... then let's change the agreement..." Hermione whispered in his ear, "How about this... this... this is fine, right?"

"Swear it!"

I swear!

Loren tried to purse his lips, but couldn't help but smile. He tried his best to keep his expression tense so that Hermione wouldn't see his happiness.