The Sharp Principal, The Ill-Intentioned Colleague

Hogwarts had arrived.

Unlike the cheerful atmosphere of the past, under the gloomy sky, rain drizzled down. The entire Hogwarts castle was caught in the midst of a storm; the moderate rain had turned into a downpour at some point, and the wind was howling.

Looking from this side, the lights of Hogwarts were dim and flickering.

Dewey stepped off the carriage first; he had to reach the school ahead of time.

"Well then, goodbye, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and you two—er, oh, Neville and Ginny, right? We shall see each other again very soon. Neville, what happened in the compartment today is a secret; you mustn't tell anyone else."

Dewey bid a polite farewell to the five children. He picked up his suitcase, left the carriage, and walked out. He didn't know who would be waiting for him here—perhaps Hagrid?

No, that wasn't right. Dewey saw Hagrid standing in the wind and rain, looking like a massive mountain.

He was greeting the first-year students.

"Where are the first-years? Come over here, quickly!"

Hagrid shouted through the wind and rain, holding a large lantern in his hand.

It wasn't Hagrid.

Then who could it be?

Dewey stepped off the train. The wind was quite strong, so he tightened his collar to keep it from blowing inside. Lupin's clothes weren't very thick, and as the cold wind seeped in, Dewey felt quite chilly.

He boarded a carriage and saw the Thestrals pulling it. It was said that only those who had witnessed death could see these strange creatures. They were gaunt, with wings disproportionately large, and faces resembling those of bone dragons.

Dewey reached out to stroke them. Despite being called an omen of misfortune, this particular Thestral had a surprisingly good temperament; it nudged Dewey's hand with its large nostrils.

It tickled.

Dewey turned his head and saw a young girl looking at him with bright, sparkling eyes.

The girl's hair was messy, and her wand wasn't tucked away; instead, it was tucked behind her ear. Her eyes seemed filled with surprise.

"Hello, young lady."

Dewey didn't know who she was, so he gave her a friendly smile before boarding the carriage and departing.

Luna Lovegood, a second-year Ravenclaw student, watched the direction the carriage left in, lost in thought.

That professor could see the Thestrals.

Luna remained pensive. She looked somewhat lonely, as everyone else was riding these "horseless carriages" to Hogwarts with friends, but Luna was different. Since her first semester, she had been called "Loony Luna." No one wanted to be friends with her, and she had always been a loner, though fortunately, Luna didn't mind such things.

She watched Dewey leave with curiosity, then sat quietly in the carriage.

Dewey closed his eyes in the carriage. He knew that the next step was the most important part of this crazy plan.

Playing the role of a professor well.

He was Lupin, and he needed to teach these students well.

The problem was, he didn't seem to know anything.

Barty Jr. was able to play a good professor because he was an excellent wizard himself. Setting aside his identity as a Death Eater, he was a descendant of the Crouch family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. He could skillfully use the three Unforgivable Curses, along with many common spells.

He was extremely familiar with the wizarding world, and casting spells was second nature to him.

The character he played, Mad-Eye Moody, was also a perfect fit for him: irritable, paranoid, capable of using powerful curses, proficient in Dark Arts, and occasionally eccentric or even a bit mad.

That was why he fit the persona so well that no one suspected him.

Dewey was different. The White Cards Dewey had learned were limited in number, and his memories of magic were fragmented. As for his memories of being a Ravenclaw, any happy memories had been devoured by Dementors.

The remaining memories were few and far between.

Even some of Dewey's own past memories were incomplete.

He was a madman, yet Lupin was a reclusive, excellent student of Hogwarts. "Professor Lupin" wasn't like Mad-Eye Moody; he wasn't a madman, but a gentle and excellent person.

Dewey pondered these things carefully, his head knocking gently against the back of the seat.

Life is like a play, and it all depends on one's acting skills.

Dewey wasn't worried about these things. He couldn't afford to make a mistake, because if he did, he would be finished, with no future left.

In the blink of an eye, the main castle of Hogwarts arrived.

Dewey opened his eyes, drank a potion, and stepped off the carriage. He saw Snape standing at the entrance with a very unpleasant expression.

He glared at him fiercely, like a giant bat, with hatred that didn't need to be hidden at all.

"Follow me."

He turned around, signaling for "Lupin" to follow. Professor McGonagall was waiting in the hall; seeing Snape's attitude, she gave "Lupin" a friendly smile.

It seemed she also knew about the past between these people. Dewey greeted Professor McGonagall before following Snape. Snape walked quickly, his robes covering his legs, making him look as if he were floating.

Dewey hurried after him. Snape didn't speak, but judging by his expression, he likely wished he could kill "Lupin" on the spot.

The two arrived at the Headmaster's Office. The lazy stone gargoyle didn't even bother to ask for the password; it moved aside, allowing Snape and Lupin to enter.

They climbed the spiral staircase and reached the Headmaster's Office. Dumbledore sat behind a large desk, and behind him, several former headmasters watched Dewey. Among them, a few did not seem to like him at all.

It seemed everyone knew he was a werewolf.

"I have brought him."

Snape spoke, looking at Dumbledore before glancing at "Lupin" and saying, "However, Headmaster, I must reiterate that I harbor concerns regarding your decision. Werewolves are nothing but beasts; they will never understand the meaning of boundaries or propriety. We must be responsible for the safety of so many students at Hogwarts. If they were to be bitten by a werewolf..."

Snape did not care in the slightest that "Lupin" was standing right beside him. He left his words hanging, glared at Dewey, and turned to leave.

Thump, thump, thump.

The footsteps were heavy, sounding as if he were venting his dissatisfaction.

Dewey watched Snape leave with an innocent expression. Dumbledore was not angry at Snape for speaking to him in such a manner; that incident from years ago was a thorn in Snape's side. He believed it had been "a meticulously planned murder," and that "everyone involved in those matters should have been thrown into Azkaban."

Unfortunately, Dumbledore had characterized the event back then as "a malicious, out-of-control prank."

He had punished the Marauders, but Snape was clearly not satisfied.

Dumbledore was examining some documents and appeared very busy. Dewey glanced at the desk and discovered several books from the Restricted Section.

So-called restricted books were those containing Dark Magic or content unsuitable for students to see, such as the potion book containing the recipe for Polyjuice Potion, which was kept in the Restricted Section. Books in the wizarding world were quite amusing; they could scream, jump, and some even bit people, while books teaching invisibility spells would turn invisible themselves.

Dewey saw literature regarding Horcruxes.

It seemed Tom's diary had greatly inspired Dumbledore; he had definitely caught the scent of something.

Watching "Lupin" standing before him, Dumbledore put away his books and gave him some instructions. He also told Dewey that Snape had improved the Wolfsbane Potion, and as long as he took it on time, nothing would go wrong, telling him not to carry any psychological burden.

Dewey could sense that Dumbledore seemed to have already begun his own investigation; his heart was no longer entirely at Hogwarts.

Tom had created his first Horcrux at the age of sixteen. "I have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality," was the taunt he would deliver to Harry Potter the following year. By that time, Dumbledore had already become certain that Tom had more than one Horcrux.

Now, he was beginning to wonder: if Tom used Horcruxes to achieve immortality, then exactly how many did he have?

Dumbledore's wisdom was, if anything, superior to Voldemort's. Once he began an investigation, he would inevitably uncover traces.

Everything a person has done leaves a trace behind.

Even if Tom was self-taught, he would have left behind traces of his experiments and studies.

Knowledge requires innovation; even for Voldemort, his Dark Magic was not mastered overnight or learned in an instant.

This was beyond doubt.

Dumbledore was searching for the traces of Voldemort's growth from Tom into a madman.

This was a good thing for Dewey; at the very least, it meant he wouldn't spend much time focused on him.

Dewey had more room to breathe!

Next chapter in fifteen minutes.