Hogwarts had arrived.
Unlike the cheerful atmosphere of before, rain fell steadily beneath the gloomy sky, and the whole of Hogwarts Castle was battered by wind and rain. At some point, the moderate rain had turned into a downpour, and the wind was howling.
From here, the lights of Hogwarts flickered faintly in the distance.
Dewey got off first. He had to head to the school ahead of time.
"Then goodbye, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and you two as well. Uh, oh, Neville and Ginny, right?
We'll see each other again soon.
Neville, what happened in the compartment today is a secret. You mustn't tell anyone."
Dewey politely said goodbye to the five children, picked up his case, and left the compartment. He had no idea who would be waiting for him here. Perhaps Hagrid?
No, that wasn't right. Dewey spotted Hagrid, standing in the storm like a great mountain.
He was there to collect the first-years.
"Where are the first-year students? Come over here, quickly!"
Hagrid shouted into the storm, holding a large lantern.
It wasn't Hagrid.
Then who was it?
Dewey got off the train. The wind was strong, so he clutched his collar to keep it from blowing open. Lupin's clothes weren't very thick, and the cold wind got inside, making Dewey feel chilled.
He climbed into a carriage and saw the Thestrals pulling it. They were strange creatures that, supposedly, only people who had witnessed death could see. They were very thin, their wings were far larger than anyone could imagine, and they had faces like skeletal dragons.
Dewey reached out and stroked them. Though this magical Thestral was considered an ill omen, it had an astonishingly gentle temperament. It rubbed its huge nostrils against Dewey's hand.
It tickled a little.
Dewey turned around and saw a young girl gazing at him with shining eyes.
Her hair was a tangled mess, and instead of keeping her wand on her, she had tucked it behind her ear. Her eyes were wide with surprise.
"Hello, young lady."
Dewey didn't know who she was, so he smiled at her warmly, climbed into the carriage, and left.
Luna Lovegood, a second-year Ravenclaw student, watched the carriage disappear with a thoughtful look.
This professor could see the Thestrals.
Luna was lost in thought. She seemed a little lonely, because everyone else was riding the "carriage with no animals pulling it" to Hogwarts with their friends, while Luna was different. Ever since her first year, Luna had been called Loony Luna. No one wanted to be her friend, and she was always alone. Fortunately, Luna didn't mind.
She watched Dewey leave with curiosity, then quietly climbed into the carriage herself.
Dewey closed his eyes in the carriage. He knew the next step was the most important part of this crazy plan.
He had to play a professor well.
He was Lupin, and he had to teach these students properly.
The problem was that he didn't seem to know how to do anything.
Barty Jr. could play a good professor because he was an excellent wizard in his own right. Setting aside his identity as a Death Eater, he was an heir to the Crouch Family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He could use the Three Unforgivable Curses with ease, along with many common spells.
He knew the Wizarding World inside out, and spells came naturally to him.
The role he played, Mad-Eye Moody, suited him perfectly, too. Moody was short-tempered and suspicious, could use powerful spells, was skilled in Dark Magic, and sometimes acted out of line, a little crazy.
So he fit the part, and nobody suspected a thing.
Dewey was different. He had only a limited number of White Cards, and his memories of magic were incomplete. As a Ravenclaw, all the memories that brought him even a little happiness had been devoured by the Dementors.
The memories he had left were few and far between.
Even some of Dewey's own memories were incomplete.
He was a madman, while Lupin was a solitary, outstanding Hogwarts student. "Professor Lupin" wasn't like Mad-Eye Moody. He wasn't a madman; he was a kind and accomplished man.
Dewey thought it all over carefully, then lightly tapped the back of his head against the carriage.
Life was a performance, and it all depended on acting.
Dewey wasn't worried about these things. He couldn't afford to make a mistake, because if he did, he would be killed. He would have no future.
In the blink of an eye, they arrived at Hogwarts Castle's main building.
Dewey opened his eyes, drank a dose of Potions, and got out of the carriage. He saw Snape waiting at the entrance, his expression thoroughly hostile.
Like a giant bat, Snape glared at him, his hatred on full display.
"Follow me."
He turned and gestured for "Lupin" to come along. Professor McGonagall was waiting in the hall. She saw Snape's attitude and gave "Lupin" a friendly smile.
It seemed she knew about their history, too. Dewey greeted Professor McGonagall in return, then followed Snape. Snape walked quickly, his robes concealing his legs and making him look as if he were floating.
Dewey followed him. Snape said nothing, but from the look on his face, he seemed to wish he could kill "Lupin" on the spot.
The two of them reached the Headmaster's Office. The lazy stone gargoyle couldn't even be bothered to ask for the password. It moved aside and let Snape and Lupin enter.
They climbed the spiral staircase and entered the Headmaster's Office. Dumbledore sat behind a large desk. Several former headmasters watched Dewey from portraits behind him, and a few of them didn't seem to like him.
They probably all knew he was a Werewolf.
"I've brought him here."
Snape said this as he looked at Dumbledore, then at "Lupin." "But, Headmaster, I must say that I still have reservations about your decision. Werewolves are beasts. They'll never understand the meaning of distance or restraint. We have to put the safety of all those Hogwarts students first.
If they're bitten by a Werewolf..."
Snape didn't care that "Lupin" was standing right beside him. He let his words trail off, shot Dewey a glare, then turned and left.
His footsteps were heavy, as though he were still venting his displeasure.
Dewey watched Snape leave with an innocent expression. Dumbledore wasn't angry that Snape had spoken to him that way. The incident back then was a thorn in Snape's heart. He believed it had been "a carefully planned murder" and that "everyone who took part should have been thrown into Azkaban."
Unfortunately, Dumbledore had called it "a malicious prank that had gotten out of hand."
He had punished the Marauders, but Snape was clearly still dissatisfied.
Dumbledore was looking into some documents and seemed busy. Dewey glanced at the desk and spotted several books from the Restricted Section.
The books were considered forbidden because they contained Dark Magic or other material unsuitable for students. For example, the Potions textbook that contained the recipe for Polyjuice Potion was in the Restricted Section. Books in the Wizarding World were all very entertaining: they could talk and jump, and some even bit. The book that taught invisibility could turn invisible, too.
Dewey spotted some writings about Horcruxes.
It seemed Tom Riddle's Diary had given Dumbledore a great deal to think about. Dumbledore had definitely caught a whiff of something.
As "Lupin" stood before him, Dumbledore put away his books, gave him some instructions, and told Dewey that Snape had improved the Wolfsbane Potion. As long as he took it on schedule, nothing would happen, so he shouldn't feel burdened.
Dewey could tell that Dumbledore had already begun investigating. His mind was no longer fully on Hogwarts.
Tom had made his first Horcrux when he was sixteen. "I've gone further along the path to immortality than anyone else"—that was what he would say to Harry Potter next year, taunting him. Even then, Dumbledore had begun to suspect that Tom had more than one Horcrux.
Now he was wondering: if Tom used Horcruxes to achieve immortality, how many had he made?
Dumbledore was every bit as wise as Voldemort, if not wiser. Once he began investigating, he would certainly find traces.
Everything people did left traces behind.
Even if Tom had taught himself, he would have left traces of his experiments and studies.
Knowledge, too, had to be developed. Even Voldemort's Dark Magic hadn't appeared overnight, fully mastered.
There was no doubt about that.
Dumbledore was searching for traces of Tom's journey from a boy into a madman.
That was good news for Dewey. At least Dumbledore wouldn't spend too much time focusing on him.
Dewey had more room to breathe!
The next chapter would be out in fifteen minutes.
Before you continue