Salem

Flamel was not surprised that Hermione could detect the Scourers ' presence from the 1926 New York Magical Exposure Incident, as Nicol's notes devoted far too much space to the extremist group Second Salem.

"Their origins date back many years..."

In the bright and spacious Library, Flamel waved his hand. Behind the solid wood bookshelf, Loren, who was observing the projection of the Werewolf corpse, saw a heavy book on his right tremble a few times, slowly slide off the bookshelf, and fly towards Flamel.

Loren dispersed the projection of the corpse and stood beside Hermione, watching Flamel's actions together.

Flamel pushed the book forward, and the heavy tome slowly floated in mid-air. The cover opened to the sides, and the pages flipped rapidly. Dim light and shadow appeared in the Library of the Fantasy Book: "In the 17th century, Europe had just begun to migrate to North America, including groups of wizards."

Loren and Hermione gazed intently at the 17th-century North American colonies depicted in the light and shadow. At that time, the United States had not yet been established, and there was neither a magical government for wizards nor a unified non-wizard government.

This region is inhabited by various colonial forces, immigrants, and bandits... It is rife with primitive and brutal acts such as killing, revenge, and robbery.

"At that time, the magical world in the the Americas was still small, scattered, and hidden. They also did not yet have their own law enforcement mechanisms, which allowed bounty hunters from various countries to take advantage of the situation."

Flamel stared at the projected images, his eyes shining with reminiscence. "As long as they could get gold, whether it was hunting notorious criminals in the sunlight or robbing others' treasures in the night, they would not let go of anyone who could be used to exchange for wealth. Their brutality was terrifying, they were notorious... They were known as the Scourers."

The projection of the book pages in mid-air created a semi-transparent scene: people with blurred faces, dressed in black robes, killed one after another carrying heavy packs, exchanging their corpses for gold coins.

Gold coins are used to buy weapons, which in turn become tools for the next killing, until the scene is stained crimson with blood.

Loren and Hermione watched the video in silence. They both understood that in the unregulated wilderness, the ghastly green glow emanating from the wand was everything, and killing was commonplace at that time.

Flamel's deep voice continued, "As time went by, the Scourers became increasingly greedy and cruel. After being placed under the jurisdiction of a magical government department far from their homeland, many of the Scourers became greedy and indulged in acts of brutality unrelated to their missions. They craved bloodshed and torture and took pleasure in it."

"By the end of the 17th century, the number of Scourers in the the Americas had increased exponentially. In areas without the jurisdiction of a magical government, the Statute of Secrecy were not strictly enforced, and many fanatical religious figures among non-magical people noticed signs of the existence of wizards. They believed that magic was magical power derived from the devil, and thus classified wizards as incarnations of the devil..."

Loren and Hermione's eyes narrowed. Here it comes: the witch hunt.

"In order to earn money, the Scourers began to betray their fellow wizards to fanatical religious followers. Driven by profit, the Scourers completely lost their minds, and some began to sell innocent Muggle as wizards to non-magical members."

Flamel narrated indifferently:

"In 1692, Puritan Inquisitors in the Massachusetts Colony publicly tried a large number of people who were considered witches. Dozens of people were executed en masse, most of whom were women. This Salem Witch Trials!"

"Witch historians believe that at least two of the so-called Puritan Inquisitors were known Scourers who did this simply to avenge past grievances. Some of the victims were indeed Witch, while others were ordinary Muggle were unfortunately caught up in this trial filled with money and blood."

Hermione held her breath. She felt sympathy for the Witch who had been framed, as well as for the ordinary people who had been innocently implicated.

Perhaps they came to this continent with beautiful hopes, escaping bloodthirsty beasts and tyrannical bandits, cautiously making their way here, only to be dragged into this sordid trial when they finally found peace, dying without ever knowing the truth of the matter.

Loren's face was expressionless, his eyes reflecting the light and shadow in mid-air, their expression obscure and inscrutable.

Flamel sighed, "Influenced by the Salem incident, the American Magical Congress was established in 1693, a century earlier than the Muggle Congress. The long-persecuted North American Wizarding World united and, through trial and error, developed its own wizarding laws, successfully establishing its own magical community like most other countries."

"After things stabilized, the American Magical Congress began to try those Scourers who had played a role in the witch trials and betrayed their own kind. However, some of the most notorious Scourers escaped capture and disappeared forever into the Muggle population. Some of them began to form families with Muggle, and if their children had magical talents, they would be abandoned, leaving only offspring without magic, in order to hide their wizarding identities."

"But the matter did not end there. In the long years of chasing blood and killing, many Scourers had completely lost their minds. After being expelled from the magical world, they became averse to wizards and magic, and passed on this belief to their descendants—that magic is real and wizards must be destroyed."

"In the 1920s, a Muggle radical group called the New Salem Philanthropic Society vowed to expose and eliminate the wizarding community, calling themselves ' the Second Salem.' They were involved in the 1926 New York Magical Exposure Incident."

Flamel recounted the events in great detail. In Nicol's memory, he witnessed part of the tragedy firsthand and also participated in some of the design work for the American Magical Congress Building.

"What a pathetic existence..." Loren murmured softly.

Hermione looked at him questioningly. "Pathetic?"

"Children with wizard blood who awaken Magic Power are abandoned, while children without Magic Power are instilled with distorted and wrong ideas, and then their entire lives are manipulated by these wrong ideas, which are then spread."

Loren paused for a moment, "But they simply cannot imagine the wonder of magic. Even if magic is exposed to the entire city, the Memory Charm can erase all traces."

"The American Magical Congress has long been capable of eliminating the Second Salem, but they are simply unwilling to use magic against ordinary people. Without magical Scourers, it is both pathetic and laughable."

"..."

The summit of Mount Greylock in western Massachusetts.

The mountaintop was far from any human habitation, and it was summer vacation. The young wizards and most of the professors had left Ilvermorny, making the school even more tranquil, and those who enjoyed the beautiful campus scenery in private felt even more comfortable and at ease.

Professor Gunt Tom Gunter stood beside the bushes in the courtyard, leisurely trimming the overgrown branches, seemingly oblivious to Bellatrix Lestrange, whose head was bowed beside him.

He cut a clump of tender green wild tea branches and gently inhaled the fresh fragrance of the sap:

"Isn't it interesting, Massachusetts... Three hundred years ago, a group of greedy wizards and a group of wealthy Muggle conspired to execute another group of wizards and Muggle."

Bellatrix didn't reply, looking down at the Dark Lord's trousers. Compared to his fat body when he was in Wormtail, this body was now much thinner, and his trousers were no longer bulging.

"Three hundred years from now, such an event will happen again... no, not again."

Voldemort couldn't help but laugh, his twisted and ferocious grin appearing even more maniacal and terrifying compared to his quiet expression while pruning the branches. "This is a great adaptation, a transcendence of the classic!"

Voldemort felt so comfortable that he almost wanted to leave his body. He combined the magical knowledge he had unearthed from the Basilisk's memories with his own genius ideas to create an unprecedented Werewolf Inferi. As a combat puppet, the Werewolf Inferi was not affected by the phases of the moon, was not afraid of physical pain, and even carried the contagious Werewolf Disease.

To surprise the International Confederation of Wizards, he also turned many Muggle into Werewolf Inferi.

"I can't wait to hear those people scream in terror..." Voldemort said softly, suppressing the tremor in his voice.

Bellatrix's gaze remained fixed on her feet. She saw a tiny insect, smaller than an ant, scurry out of the bushes. It crawled haphazardly, and just as it was about to touch the shoes, it suddenly turned and fled as if its life depended on it.

"But, Master, Dumbledore ..."

Click!

Another clump of branches was cut down, Voldemort casually tossed it deeper into the bushes, seemingly somewhat disappointed. "I'll lure him away. Too bad I won't get to see the Werewolf wreaking havoc in New York City."

"Owner..."

Bellatrix faithfully reminded them, "Even if Dumbledore is lured away, there are still the Aurors from the American Ministry of Magic headquarters, the Aurors accompanying the various national Ministry of Magic, and the elite warriors of other intelligent races attending the meeting. Those Werewolf Inferi will soon be wiped out."

"Do you expect those mindless corpses to achieve any results?"

"Master, what do you mean?"

Voldemort's smile remained undiminished, "Tell me, before they completely deal with the Werewolf Inferi, will there be any Muggle infected by Werewolf, will there be any Aurors infected, will there be any Minister for Magic infected?"

"What an interesting scene that would be..."

Voldemort took a delighted sniff of the wild tea tree blossoms.

In the parking garage downstairs at the hotel, Ford Anglia luxury sedan with a sky-blue paint job looked brand new.

Bates opened the car door first, sat in the driver's seat, turned the key to start the engine, and pressed the clutch, the car engine emitting a deep roar.

"Let me see!" Wendell excitedly got into the passenger seat. "The rental car manager said this car has been specially modified. It's been driving around New York City for a while, but I haven't had a chance to test drive it. Now I can finally see it..."

The three adults planned a road trip to Baltimore, Wendell intended to experience the modifications the manager had mentioned.

Outside the car door, Monica knelt in front of her daughter, staring directly into her eyes. "Hermione, don't you really have anything to say to me?"

Hermione met her mother's deep gaze, her neck stiffened, her two neck muscles taut and bulging, and she spoke with some difficulty, "N-no."

Loren glanced at her. Why was she so nervous?

Whether trying to convince herself or Monica, Hermione muttered to herself:

"For the next few days, Loren and I will be attending the International Wizarding Congress. We've seen most of the sights in New York, so I suggest you take a road trip in Baltimore ... The hotel will provide three meals a day, and the congress venue isn't far from here. We also know magic, so don't worry about us..."

Loren's eyes widened slightly.

Monica put her hands on Hermione's shoulders and turned around, moving Hermione away from her face which was full of lies. She pulled Loren next to her and whispered some instructions in his ear.

Loren would nod and reply from time to time.

The little Witch who had been lying stood to the side, glancing at her mother, then at Loren, her head drooping dejectedly, her mind a jumble of confusion, panic, and frustration.

To prevent the impending magical event from endangering their families, she and Loren each persuaded their parents to leave New York. It's unclear how Loren spoke to Grandpa Bates, but she didn't want her parents to worry, so she lied to them.

If Mom finds out the truth, she'll definitely be angry.

Hermione strained her ears to listen, but heard nothing.

Loren nodded in final assurance, "Don't worry, I will take good care of Hermione."

"Um."

Monica nodded, got up, ruffled Hermione's hair, turned around, opened the car door, and got into the back seat.

Watching the car slowly drive away from the garage, Hermione tugged at Loren's sleeve and whispered, "What did Mom say to you?"

"It's nothing, just that I need to take good care of you."

Hermione looked conflicted and hesitated before asking, "So what did you say to Grandpa Bates?"

"To tell the truth."

"Ah?"

"What can't be said between family members?"

"But... but I don't want my parents to worry..."

"Won't they worry if you do this?"

"..."

Loren looked intently into her eyes, clear as crystal, though now somewhat dim. "If one day I also encounter some kind of dangerous situation, would you prefer me to tell you everything, or keep it from you and say nothing?"

Hermione understood somewhat and nodded. "Tell me."

Loren ruffled her hair. They were about the same height now, so he had to stand on tiptoe to do this. "When they get back, we'll explain it to them, okay?"

"Knew."

As the tall buildings outside the car window gradually decreased and the sky-blue Ford drove into the suburbs, Monica couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Bates, how did Loren persuade you to travel?"

Bates turned the steering wheel without looking back. "They said there might be a magical terrorist attack in New York, and they want me to leave the city to avoid it."

"What!"

Wendell had been engrossed in examining the dashboard, suddenly looked up, slammed his head against the center console, clutched his head in pain, and said in a trembling voice, "Turn around, turn around right now..."

Monica pursed her lips into a straight line.

Bates didn't say anything, but reached out and turned on the car stereo, and upbeat rock music drifted out.