Ollivander, that old fraud

So, just as the professors were about to leave, he suddenly asked:

"But none of you have told me what a Mudblood is!

Why were Bill and all of you so angry when you heard the word Mudblood?

Why do the Slytherin students think I'm a Mudblood?

Professor Snape, did you teach them what a Mudblood is?

So do you think I'm a Mudblood too?

Is it because I'm Muggle-born that I'm a Mudblood?

Why haven't I heard students from any other house use the word Mudblood?

Are Mudbloods not allowed to be friends with pure-blood and half-blood wizards?

Mudblood..."

Douglas's expression was calm, his tone composed, but every sentence out of his mouth contained the word Mudblood.

Standing beside him, Bill could clearly feel that the atmosphere had changed.

He cautiously tugged at a corner of Douglas's clothes, urging him to stop.

Tears welled up in Professor McGonagall's and Professor Sprout's eyes.

They felt they could hear endless hurt and resentment in Douglas's words.

Both professors decided then and there that they would never let either of these two children suffer any punishment.

They absolutely could not let this child suffer any more injustice.

But before the two professors, overflowing with maternal love, could speak.

Beside them, as Douglas repeated the word Mudblood again and again, Professor Snape.

His face grew paler and paler, until a powerful magical aura formed around him.

His shoulder-length hair flew wildly behind his head.

His robes billowed without any wind.

It frightened Professors McGonagall and Sprout into drawing their wands and shielding Bill and Douglas behind them.

Yet Snape did nothing else. He only roared:

"You! Must not! Must not say that word again!"

With that, before the other two professors could react, he swept his robes aside, turned, and left.

Douglas immediately felt some inexplicable force abruptly cut off his voice...

In any case, Douglas later heard that those Slytherins who had been sent to the Hospital Wing.

During Potions Class on the very day they left the Hospital Wing, they were ordered to drink the potions they had brewed themselves.

Unfortunately, they had brewed their potions incorrectly, introducing an inexplicable toxin.

They suffered agonizing pain, and even Professor Snape, a Potions Master, could not save them on the spot.

They were then sent straight to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries for a month of recuperative treatment.

The first time they left the Hospital Wing, Douglas and Bill sent them back; the second time, their own potions sent them to hospital.

With a smile on his face, Douglas sincerely observed a moment of silence for them.

Coming back to the present, he turned his attention to Hagrid's Hut.

Everyone was still offering all sorts of examples to comfort Hermione.

Amid all their praise, Hermione could not help blushing to the tips of her ears.

Douglas offered no comfort on this matter. He believed Hermione would not care too much about it either.

Of course, that had to do with the environment they were in.

In fact, people's true loathing of the word Mudblood had more to do with Voldemort's first reign of terror.

Being called a Mudblood meant death, and the extermination of one's entire family at that.

Its transformation from a derogatory term into a mark of death was what made people of every background hate the word so deeply.

During Voldemort's reign, he preached that those of Muggle birth-Mudbloods-were "shameless thieves" who had stolen magic from wizards and taken their wands.

The Death Eaters under him went further, making it their mission to purge Muggle blood, murdering, burning, and wiping out entire families wherever they went.

As a result, in those days, anyone called a Mudblood could very well become the Death Eaters' next target.

Since Voldemort had disappeared over a decade ago, people had, without realizing it, forgotten the terror the word Mudblood brought.

But they still hated the word, including some peace-loving pure-blood families.

After all, in a wizarding world with more and more Muggle-born wizards, who did not have a few Muggle-born friends, however pure they claimed their blood to be?

Although Douglas had not recalled this part of the original story, he did remember Ron's broken wand.

If he remembered correctly, it seemed that this broken wand of Ron's was what had done Lockhart in in the original story.

Ron saw Douglas staring at him strangely.

He could not help putting down the chicken foot in his hand and saying with an awkward smile:

"These really are delicious. So delicious I'm getting a bit addicted!

Ha ha... aha...

Professor, if there's something you want, please just say it. You're scaring me, staring at me like that."

Douglas came back to his senses and coughed awkwardly:

"Ahem, I heard your wand was broken. Could I have a look?"

Ron immediately sighed in relief, hurriedly took out his wand, and handed it over, his face flushed with embarrassment.

When Douglas saw the state of the wand, he could not help giving Ron another look.

Good grief, a wand held together with tape. After Douglas unwound the tape.

Looking at the wand that was almost broken in two, he could hardly imagine what kind of luck Ron had had in the original story.

To have used a wand like this until the end of the school year without getting himself killed by it.

"Ron, if I remember correctly, this was Charlie's wand, wasn't it?

Twelve inches, ash, unicorn tail hair."

Ron nodded and said quietly:

"Yes, that's right. You know what things are like in our family.

Charlie's old wand, Percy's rat!

Professor, can you repair it?"

Douglas picked up the wand and examined it carefully, then shook his head regretfully:

"A wand is an extremely intricate magical instrument. Unfortunately, I don't know how.

But I can try using the Mending Charm!"

He remembered that in the original story, Harry seemed to have repaired a broken wand with the Elder Wand.

And he happened to have a wand that was no worse than the Elder Wand.

Of course, that assessment had come from Ollivander.

As he drew his wand, Harry, who was beside him, noticed that Douglas actually carried two wands.

Everyone watched Ron's wand nervously.

Then Douglas called, "Reparo!"

As the light of the spell fell upon the broken wand.

The broken wand began to mend at a speed visible to the naked eye.

At this sight, Ron's face lit up with joy. He thought that the next time he ran into Malfoy.

He would definitely hit him hard with a Slug-Vomiting Charm.

Let him have a taste of what it felt like to keep throwing up.

Just as everyone was rejoicing for Ron and Douglas breathed a sigh of relief.

Bang!

On the table, the newly mended wand suddenly exploded.

Fortunately, Douglas reacted quickly, and at the very instant of the bang.

He cast a Shield Charm over the three children and himself.

For all Hagrid's towering bulk, at that instant, he too swiftly stretched out his enormous arms.

To protect the large jar of pickled pepper chicken feet on the table.

After the explosion, they all looked at one another.

Douglas looked especially embarrassed as he examined the wand in his hand.

Then he looked at the wand that had already been blown to pieces.

He muttered quietly, "Ollivander, that old fraud!"