Arnold Weasley, Let Us Encourage Each Other

Slytherin common room.

Aaron had just returned when he saw Draco holding a copy of the Daily Prophet, chatting and laughing.

Is there any good news?

"Of course there is." Draco's face was full of schadenfreude. "After the Quidditch World Cup, Rita Skeeter has created another scandal, and you would never guess who the protagonist is."

"Harry Potter? Or Ron Weasley?" Aaron asked tentatively, thinking that these two were the only ones who could excite Draco Malfoy so much.

"Neither," Draco said with amusement. "This person is Arnold Weasley."

"Arnold Weasley?" Aaron raised an eyebrow. "Is this Ron's relative? I've never heard him mention having such a relative."

"Hahaha..." Draco laughed for a while, clutching his stomach, before opening the Daily Prophet and reading. "The Ministry of Magic has once again been put in an awkward position due to the bizarre behavior of Arnold Weasley, the office that prohibits the misuse of Muggle items."

Upon hearing this, Aaron blinked. "The office that misuses Muggle items... could it be Arthur Weasley?"

"That's right, it's him, my dad's archenemy." Draco couldn't help but laugh again. "He's in the newspaper, but this isn't the family photo from the trip last year."

What's even more ridiculous is that Rita Skeeter couldn't even get his name right. Nothing could be more embarrassing than that. My dad was so happy when he found out he opened a bottle of champagne.

Aaron's lips twitched slightly. "No wonder Jeans said Rita Skeeter was the most shameless journalist."

"Whether it's virtuous or not is unimportant; what matters is that the readers are happy," Draco said, unusually serious. "Otherwise, she wouldn't be a reporter for the Daily Prophet."

What did Arthur do wrong?

"The newspapers say that our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Alastor Moody, triggered a false alarm at home and got into a fight with several Muggle police officers. Weasley altered the officers' memories to help him get away with it."

"It sounds perfectly fine!"

"There's nothing wrong with it, but... Arnold Weasley is just too funny," Draco said with a smug grin. "I'm definitely going to show this paper to Ron Weasley tomorrow."

"Here's a piece of advice: you can give him the newspaper, but don't say anything unnecessary."

"Well..." Draco seemed a little disheartened. "I was just making fun of him, that should be fine, right?"

"Arthur Weasley helped Alastor Moody out of a predicament, but you're making fun of his son because of it," Aaron said, looking at him with amusement. "Is that any different from rubbing his face in the ground? Or are you trying to test the temper of our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?"

Upon hearing this, Draco turned pale and it took him a while to recover.

I almost forgot about that. Weasley now has a mad Auror behind him. If Moody stands up for him, he'll definitely be in big trouble.

"I'll let him off this time," Draco said.

"Stubborn." Aaron rolled his eyes at him, picked up Abei, and walked back to his dormitory on his own.

After closing the door, Aaron lifted a floor tile and chanted in Dragon Language to open the secret passage of the Divine Thunder Hall.

After walking a long way through the dark passage, the man and the dragon finally entered the Divine Thunder Hall.

As soon as they entered, hundreds of Shadow Ninja knelt down in unison, instantly creating a strong sense of ceremony.

At the far end of the palace, the Thought Form sat on the throne with a smile on its face, as if it were receiving an envoy from another country.

"A generous gift of crabs!" Aaron slapped his forehead speechlessly. "This is the first time I've felt like I deserved a beating. I really should have taken back my Thought Form."

"No, I was just joking." The Thought Form chuckled as it stepped down from the throne. "I've been alone in the Secret Chamber for two months, and I had to sneak around every time I went out. Please be understanding!"

"Be content," Aaron said irritably. "I even wanted to switch places with you. You have no idea how miserable my vacation has been."

The original body and the Thought Form exchanged memories, looked at each other, and sighed at the same time.

"What a miserable life!" the Thought Form said dejectedly. "There's a reason why so many of our ancestors stayed in other worlds to live!"

"Don't think too much about it. Even if you want to run away, you need capital." Aaron took two bottles of white wine from Abei's pocket, handed one to the Thought Form, and then drank it himself. "Even if you have capital, it's not enough. There are too many things to worry about in this world."

So, from beginning to end, we only have one path before us: follow the rules. It may be a bit tough, but it's the right one!

"In the end, we still need to become stronger!" The Thought Form took a big gulp of wine, then raised its right hand, and three dazzling Magic Array— red, purple, and blue—appeared and lined up together.

"The ultimate Magic Array is still difficult to cast instantly. Perhaps it will take an overall increase in strength of one level to see significant progress."

However, I can already do this much with advanced Magic Array; triple stacking is no problem.

Besides that, I've also studied Professor Snape's notes quite thoroughly.

Aaron nodded. After receiving the memories of the Thought Form, he could achieve the same effect.

"I've also learned some special uses of elemental magic. Although I'm still far from being able to use it with ease, I'm already quite proficient in using basic sealing magic."

My ancestor Weihert, taught me a special defensive magic, which I should be able to fully master this semester.

"Where's the gun?" the Thought Form asked meaningfully. "Aren't you going to let me see it?"

Aaron smiled slightly, took out the Flintlock Pistol, and placed it on the storage shelf.

"If you're going to try it, you'd better hold back. This is a weapon that can injure a dragon."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. I won't let myself get distracted by frivolous pursuits. You should have some confidence in yourself."

Aaron shrugged, not denying it, and then said, "There are two things you need to do when you have time."

"I knew you wouldn't have come all this way just to see me," the Thought Form said calmly. "Clones are just not destined to enjoy life!"

"At least you were lying down while I was suffering!" Aaron said without shivering, then winked at Abei.

Holy Dragon immediately took out several books from his pocket and laid them flat on a table.

"The books on firearms maintenance, Magic Array, and Muggle bullet making are all here."

Once you've mastered these things, you can easily repair any weapon that breaks down in the future.

"I understand, I'll learn when I have time," the Thought Form said. "Is there anything else?"

Aaron gave a friendly smile, without the slightest hint of displeasure. "Also, there's the homework Professor Trelawney assigned, which is due by next Monday."

Thought Form:...

Why don't you just take me back?

After leaving the Divine Thunder Hall, Aaron felt as if he had been expelled of toxins and felt completely refreshed.

The best mental health counselor is yourself! Comforting yourself, encouraging yourself—it's all real and without a trace of deception.

The Triwizard Tournament's popularity only continued to grow, but gradually everyone's attention was drawn to the Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Every Warlock who had completed the Defense Against the Dark Arts spoke highly of Moody, yet remained tight-lipped about him, which fueled the interest of others in this legendary Auror.

Two days later, the fourth-year Warlock of Gryffindor and Slytherin faced their first Defense Against the Dark Arts of the semester.

The atmosphere in the classroom was exceptionally quiet, after all, the teacher of this class was a notoriously ruthless person who, apart from Dumbledore, didn't give face to anyone else in the entire Hogwarts.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

A limping footstep came from outside the corridor as Moody entered the classroom, his exaggerated magic eyes darting around.

"Put away your textbooks."

You don't need those things in my classes.

After the students stuffed "Dark Magic: A Guide to Self-Defense" into their bags, Moody took out the roster and began calling roll.

The normal right eye moves down the list, while the strange left eye stares at each student whose name is called.

After confirming that no one was absent, he wrote his name on the blackboard, "Alastor Moody, formerly Auror, invited by Dumbledore to attend classes here for a year."

I will only teach for one year, after which I will retire and live a peaceful life.

Before I came, I received a letter from Professor Lupin, in which he gave me a detailed introduction to the course you are taking.

You should know how to deal with some Dark Magic entities, like Boggart and Red Cap, right?

None of the students responded, but many nodded in agreement under the gaze of his magical eyes.

"When it comes to defending against Dark Magic, I always advocate for more practice," Moody said meaningfully. "But first, can any of you tell me how many kinds of Unforgivable Curses there are?"

"First of all, there are three kinds." Hermione said somewhat nervously.

"Why is that name?"

"Because they are unforgivable, using any of them would be..."

"They'll all send you straight to Azkaban." Moody interrupted her, then looked meaningfully at Aaron. "Professor Lupin's letter told me to keep a close eye on a certain... Slytherin, because this Warlock is really quite bizarre, using an Unforgivable Curses in his third year."

Gollum!

Aaron felt like he was sitting on pins and needles, swallowing hard. He knew without a doubt that everyone's eyes were on him.

Mama fuck!

Aaron cursed Lupin the bastard in his heart. He thought he had treated the Werewolf professor well enough, giving him all the necessary respect, but he never expected Lupin to betray him like this.

"Gaius, do you know who this person is?"

"I don't know, but it's definitely not me," Aaron said righteously.

As long as I don't admit it, you can't do anything to me.

What? Lupin wrote to you?

That was blatant slander. He had no evidence, and it's common knowledge that Werewolf generally have a low reputation.

"Hmph!" Moody snorted, then turned to the crowd. "The tribe says you are too young to witness such incantations, but I don't think so. You must understand your opponents and be fully prepared."