After returning from Diagon Alley, Felix once again used the Patronus to check up with the gargoyle in front of the Headmaster’s office, this time he did not get blocked from meeting Dumbledore.
When he walked into the office, portraits of past headmasters were snoring in their frames on the wall, and Dumbledore stared intently at the Pensieve.
Felix was surprised to hear Rita Skeeter’s voice, with a little echo. Her two-inch-long, red-painted nails glinted in the Pensieve as she said slyly, “Oh, Dumbledore, you know, my book is about to be published …”
To which Dumbledore replied with a murmur, “That’s not a great idea … Felix?” He said as he looked up while stirring the silvery substance in the Pensieve with his wand, and Rita Skeeter’s face disappeared along with her long, brightly painted nails.
“Headmaster Dumbledore, you have been quite busy lately, but I did not expect that you were meeting with her.” Felix chuckled, “Could it be that you want to publish an autobiography? If so, it really isn’t a great idea to ask for her help.”
This was made in response to what he had heard Dumbledore talking to himself when he first entered.
Dumbledore laughed with amusement, his beard fluttered as one. “We can leave our mark in many ways, with magical portraits, Classroom Seven memory bodies, or even just by simply living in people’s memories … but I don’t think an autobiography has to be included.”
Felix shrugged as he fiddled with the silverware on the table with his fingers, watching it making a chattering noise and spewing out wisps of smoke.
“Any luck?”
“Ah, apart from a few memories to prove that Voldemort grew up poorly … there weren’t many noteworthy pieces of information, besides, I went for a stroll around the seaside cave you mentioned, and I have to say, Felix, you were really rough, all I found were ruins. ”
The two then talked about the shield charm, to which Dumbledore showed some interest, but soon he looked a little tired, and Felix took the initiative to say goodbye.
“If you can, pay more attention to Madame Maxime, Felix.” Dumbledore said from behind him.
Felix frowned, “She’s suspicious?”
“No, Of course not,” Dumbledore said lightly, “I’m sure she would never become a pawn of Voldemort, what concerns me is whether she could be our friend …” he then said with some concern: “Hagrid got sent to the hospital wing recently.”
…
It was at the end of the month before he saw Hagrid again.
As December approached, the weather became increasingly chilly, especially since it rained and snowed last night, which left patches of blue ice crystals all over the ground as the students trudged through the yard in their thick cloaks.
Felix followed the crowd to the edge of the forbidden forest, and Beauxbatons’ carriage came within his sight, with several students near the carriage looking around as they conjured up a transparent ice slide and slid down from high above, to Hagrid’s Hut, which is not far from them.
A scarfed witch sat quietly by the side of the carriage, holding a golden egg in her arms. When she spotted Felix, she ran over cheerfully.
“Professor Hap!”
“Miss Delacour?” Felix asked as he glanced at a strand of silver hair which peeked out from under her scarf.
“It’s me,” Fleur lifted her scarf and smiled sweetly, “Madame Maxime is waiting for you.”
The carriage is not cramped, it looks just like a mobile Inn, with a dozen spacious rooms compartmentalized and separated from the central room that looked similar to the common room of the Hogwarts. The room is warm like spring, and it is decorated with all Beauxbatons characteristics. In addition to large bushes of pink and blue flowers, he also spotted a magical fountain, which churned out a mist of ice-blue water that blended with a sweet fragrance.
Fleur led him through a door marked with the emblem of the Beauxbatons school, and brought him to the dining room in the carriage, where Madame Maxime is dining, as she wiped her mouth with a blue napkin and waved her hand, “Please sit down, Felix … Fleur, join us.”
Fleur obediently sat at the table to eat, then she tucked her shiny silver hair to the left side of her neck while listening to the conversation between them.
Felix first thanked her for her time, and through the small round window, he could see Hagrid’s burly figure walking back and forth in front of the pumpkin patch, giving lectures to a group of students.
“How strange, how can anyone like that thing … what, it’s called a fried tail scorpion or something?” Madame Maxime snorted through her nostrils, as she gestured with her blue-patterned fork, which is several times bigger than the one Felix is holding, towards the fuzzy landscape in the distance.
“Firetrail Snail.” Felix said, scooping up a bowl of seafood for himself, a fish stock that he guessed that they had brought from France because he had never seen such a fish before, but there are still a few fish in the soup that he saw in the Black Lake, not sure if Hogwarts offered it or if the Beauxbatons students caught it on their own.
Madame Maxime looked distracted and said with very little interest, “I’m not interested in magical creatures.”
“I happen to know a magical creatures expert, oh, not Hagrid, someone else, Mr. Newt Scamander.” Felix said, “He’s retired, but he had some great stories about his younger days, and I was able to hear about it a lot from him.”
In fact, the one he had talked to was Newt’s memory in Classroom Seven, and Felix had only recently discovered that he had a unique advantage in developing relationships with those memory bodies.
Although the memory body resembles a person, but ultimately they’re no longer considered as a person, on the contrary, they resemble ghosts more. One of the most direct distinctions between them is that they have no sense of taste and can only recall the food they had once eaten, while coincidentally, Felix can bring out many dishes from his mind – exclusive to ghosts and memory bodies. After many years, Newt was particularly nostalgic about everything in the Hogwarts kitchen, and Felix used that opportunity to learn a lot of interesting information.
For example, how he got expelled.
Felix talked about Some of Newt’s adventures. Unlike the “wizards fighting dragons” stories that Madame Maxim and Fleur usually heard, Newt’s experiences were filled with knowledge and love for these magical creatures – he rarely used violent means to deal with them and made friends with them as much as he could.
” In short, he rescued that poor Thunderbird from Egyptian smugglers and later brought it back to America …”
“Mr. Scamander has a heart of gold and more genuine feelings for the creatures, it was me who is narrow-minded.” Madame Maxime said sentimentally, the large glass of gin before her already bottomed out.
“And after that?” Fleur pursued.
“I don’t know,” Felix spread his hands, “it might have been a romantic love story after that, he met a lady. I guess they are now playing a game of throwing meatballs to mooncalf together?”
After that, he talked about the current state of French werewolves by using this as a talking point.
“I know what you’re talking about.” Madame Maxime answered, “The Wolfsbane Potion, a remarkable innovation, our Ministry of Magic imported a batch of it, and to be honest, it’s a bit expensive … so the minister is negotiating a deal with this side, hoping to buy the formula for the potion.”
She then said with some dissatisfaction, “Your minister is acting like a shrewd businessman, asking us for a lot of goodies.”
“Oh, and he didn’t show any respect for Madame Maxime!” Fleur said pointedly.
Felix glanced over to see Madame Maxime shaking her head slightly, but her eyes flushed, making him wonder what exactly Fudge had said, or rather, acted out. But he wisely did not bother to ask.
The three at the table next ate in silence, and Madame Maxime once again glanced toward Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. In the distance, a giant Firetrail Snail spurted a cluster of sparks from its tail and pulled the student forward with a jerk, dragging him through the snow as he slid forward.
“Ouch! Haha.” Madame Maxime laughed.
————-
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