As soon as the workday ended, Lockhart jumped up eagerly, and Gale shed his hospital uniform at lightning speed. In less than three minutes, the two of them had rushed out of the hospital.

Apparating home is, of course, convenient, but using that kind of magic easily leaves strong magical traces. The elite Aurors from the Ministry of Magic have specific detection spells for that.

Moreover, using magic in areas crowded with Muggles could easily violate the Statute of Secrecy.

The Ministry would immediately send a letter and dispatch personnel to investigate—only to be delighted to find two nationally wanted fugitives, which would be followed by summoning Aurors and over a hundred Dementors...

Imagining such horrifying consequences, Lockhart and Gale immediately gave up on all shortcuts and firmly resolved not to risk using magic. They behaved obediently, doing their best to appear just like ordinary Muggles.

"Let's grab a cab—faster that way!"

Lockhart instinctively raised his hand at the roadside, but Gale quickly pulled him back.

"No, no, no. We're taking the bus," Gale said, his brows furrowed with caution and careful thought. "Think about it—what if we run into Dementors? With more people around, they'll have more targets. Easier for us to escape."

Lockhart withdrew his hand and said admiringly, "You're right. Always thinking ahead."

The two arrived at a nearby bus stop. After waiting in the cold wind for over ten minutes, the much-delayed bus finally arrived.

Lockhart rushed on board first, only to find there weren't any seats left. After a moment of thought, he stood next to a middle-aged woman. When she looked his way, Lockhart flashed his signature dazzling smile.

The Muggle woman gave him a side-eye, the kind you'd give a lunatic, then scooted further into her seat with a look of disdain and turned her gaze away.

Lockhart: "..."

He looked at his reflection in the window—his once golden hair had lost its shine. His formerly handsome face, under the effect of magic, now had slightly small eyes, a crooked nose, protruding teeth, and darker skin...

He looked disheveled. Even a bit ugly.

His smile was no longer charming… it just seemed creepy.

Tears nearly welled up in Lockhart's eyes. He deeply regretted never taking human transfiguration seriously back then—now he could only turn himself into this monstrous form.

He whispered his complaint to Troka, "Stupid Muggles with no taste… back in the day, my fans could fill an entire street."

Gale, who had been shoved by him while boarding, sneered and said, "Too bad they all know the real you now. You don't have any fans left!"

Lockhart's face turned green with anger. He snapped back, "We're supposed to be allies—how could you be so heartless and poke at my wounds?"

Gale snorted, "We're allies, and yet you're trying to steal a lousy seat from me?"

The two of them glared at each other with mutual loathing, then looked away in unison.

Not far away, Mabel stood by, gripping the edge of a seat for support as she pulled her hood further down over her face and stared at the grimy metal floor of the bus.

—Dementors... Hogwarts... Muggles…

—There is no doubt — these two are wizards.

Ever since her escape, Mabel hadn't encountered any other witches or wizards. She didn't know whether the Ministry of Magic had sent anyone after her, or what had become of Haley, Luke, and the others.

When she overheard these two in the hospital talking about the wizarding world, she instinctively followed them.

Even though they are wizards, they are still working in a Muggle hospital and taking the bus — clearly, they couldn't be very powerful.

Mabel figured they probably weren't a threat. Still, to be safe, she kept her distance and made sure they didn't see her face.

The bus swayed to a stop, and Lockhart and Gale, who had been standing the whole way, finally got off.

As the doors were about to close, Mabel hurriedly jumped off the bus as well.

Despite having become wanted fugitives, Lockhart and Gale still held that typical wizarding arrogance toward Muggles — they didn't even notice the little girl behind them.

The street was very quiet.

As they stepped off the bus, Lockhart saw the hem of his companion's coat flap open, revealing bulging pockets stuffed to the brim. His face went pale as something dawned on him.

Lockhart rushed forward a few steps, grabbed Gale by the arm, and asked, "Did you steal blood bags from the hospital again?"

Gale immediately covered his pockets and his eyes darted away guiltily. "They were expired! Meant to be destroyed anyway! I just... repurposed the disposal method."

"You'll get us exposed doing stuff like this!" Lockhart said angrily, with a mix of fear and frustration in his voice.

"It's fine, some Muggles steal blood too…" Gale mumbled weakly, then suddenly straightened up with indignation. "You eat every day — what, am I supposed to starve?"

"Don't twist this around! You can eat regular food too!" Lockhart shot back. "And your uncle even buys you live chickens!"

"A little chicken blood doesn't go far, okay? I'm dying for human blood." Gale licked his lips, then suddenly turned to Lockhart. "To avoid exposure… why don't you give me a little of your blood?"

Lockhart instantly took several steps back, clutched his neck, and shouted, "Don't even think about it!"

"Alright, alright… calm down." Gale said. "I was just joking."

Lockhart huffed angrily, but after a couple of seconds, the two were walking side by side again.

He needed Gale's street smarts and experience blending into Muggle society. They were also staying at Gale's uncle's house. Meanwhile, Gale needed Lockhart's magic to conceal their trail and avoid being tracked by the Ministry of Magic.

If they hadn't been working together all this time, there's no way they could've stayed on the run for so long or lived anything close to a normal life.

Soon, the two of them arrived home. As they stepped inside, they saw Gal's uncle — Ryan Troka — sitting by the fireplace, holding a letter with a deeply troubled expression.

"Uncle Ryan, what happened?" Gale asked nervously. "Is the Ministry coming to search the place?"

"You silly child, if the Ministry were going to search the place, would they really send a letter ahead of time?"

Ryan Troka said helplessly, "Besides, the last time I had contact with your father was over a decade ago. They'd never think you are hiding out at my place — this is a letter from Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Lockhart, who was changing his clothes at the door, turned his head in horror. "Dumbledore found us?!"

Ryan Troka: "..."

How did these two cowards ever muster the courage to break out of Azkaban?

The world is truly a strange place.

"Dumbledore isn't as all-knowing as you make him out to be," Ryan said calmly. "He's just inviting me to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts."

Lockhart's expression twisted slightly. "They're changing that professor again?"

"Yeah," Ryan sighed. "Apparently, the last one had family matters to deal with and resigned as soon as the holiday ended."

"Resigned?" Lockhart blinked. "Just resigned? Didn't die? Or go to prison?"

"Of course not." Ryan gave him a strange look. "That professor didn't do anything wrong, and by all accounts did a great job. Why would someone go to prison just for being a teacher?"

"Listen to me, Uncle Ryan!" Gale said seriously. "That class is cursed. No one's ever lasted more than a year, and now they've gone through three professors in just two years! The curse must be getting stronger. You can't go!"

Lockhart silently nodded in agreement with a bitter look in his eyes — if only he'd understood that earlier, he wouldn't have gone from a world-famous bestselling author to a wanted fugitive living day by day.

"As for the curse, I'm not too concerned," Ryan said lightly. "There have been many professors like Abigail who worked for a year and then peacefully moved on."

"As long as I do the job properly, obey the law, and don't hurt anyone, the Ministry isn't just going to randomly throw me into prison."

Lockhart clutched his chest and sank silently onto the sofa, feeling like he'd just taken multiple arrows to the heart.

He didn't want to say a single word.

After a moment of silence, Gale asked, "Uncle Ryan… do you want to go?"

Ryan Troka sighed. "You know… as a vampire, opportunities like this are incredibly rare. Only someone like Dumbledore would overlook my background and offer me a position like this."

He glanced around his home — the television, the carpet, the fireplace. In the kitchen, there was an oven, a coffee machine, and a humming refrigerator.

The Daily Prophet on the dining table was the only object in the room that had any connection to the magical world.

Ryan said quietly, "Gale, life among Muggles is good… but I don't want to stray too far from that world."

Gale looked puzzled. "If you want to go… then why do you still look so troubled?"

"If it were the old Hogwarts, I would have accepted the invitation without hesitation. But…"

Ryan Troka let out a long sigh. "I heard Dumbledore is training an army at the school, preparing to overthrow Fudge. Getting involved in that kind of conflict… who knows what consequences it might bring. That's why I'm still hesitating."

Lockhart was sipping tea and nearly spat it out when he heard that.

"Dumbledore needs to train an army to get rid of Fudge?" he asked, dumbfounded.

He was genuinely puzzled, but Ryan Troka found his answer in the question itself.

"You're right… you're absolutely right… Dumbledore doesn't need to."

Ryan looked down at the letter once more and finally made up his mind. "I'll go write back to Dumbledore right now — there's pizza in the oven, help yourselves."

He hurried upstairs to the study. Once his figure disappeared up the staircase, Gale quickly pulled a stolen blood bag from his pocket, bit it open, and began sipping cautiously.

He wouldn't dare let his uncle see him drinking human blood — he'd definitely get scolded.

Meanwhile, Lockhart fetched the pizza himself, set the table, tucked in his napkin, and was just about to enjoy dinner with the newspaper — only to realize the stack of Daily Prophets on the table was gone.

"Gale, did you take all the newspapers?" Lockhart asked.

"What?" Gale, busy hiding the rest of the blood bags, didn't hear clearly and responded with confusion.

"The newspapers! They're gone!" Lockhart said.

"I didn't take them… go ask Uncle Ryan," Gale replied.

"Never mind then…" Lockhart muttered, annoyed, and turned on the TV.

A photo of a girl with gaunt cheeks and a cold stare appeared on screen.

The news anchor was reporting on her:

"Reports indicate that Mabel Roland, wanted for the murder of multiple adults, is currently on the run in the UK. She is considered extremely dangerous. Do not approach… Anyone who provides valuable information leading to her capture will receive a reward of one thousand pounds…"

"So young, and already killed so many people," Lockhart murmured. "Terrifying…"

…

The terrifying girl in question was currently sitting cross-legged in the attic of the Troka house.

She didn't dare turn on the light. Using the dim glow of the streetlamp outside, she read the newspaper line by line.

There were many words she didn't recognize. Mabel read slowly and carefully, guessing at the meanings as she worked her way through all the recent papers.

None of the articles mentioned Haley or the other children, but in the corner of one piece, she saw the name Rita Skeeter.

Can I find Rita Skeeter and ask for information?

But Mabel had no idea where the newspaper's editorial office was… and reporters weren't always in the office anyway.

Her finger traced line by line down the newspaper again, until it stopped at another familiar name.

[Breaking News! Genius Alchemist Wade Grey's Latest Invention — The Communication Bean — Brings You a Whole New Realm of Connection!]

[Say goodbye to the hassle of handwritten letters and the expense of two-way mirrors — with the Communication Bean, you can effortlessly stay in close contact with anyone, anytime, anywhere! Even separated by thousands of miles, you can have direct voice conversations!]

[Lightweight and portable design, sleek and stylish appearance, available in multiple trendy colors, and offers a stable and efficient connection! This is a revolutionary product — a bridge to the future of communication!]

[To celebrate the launch, Aslan Magical Workshop is offering a limited-time promotion. Limited quantity available — first come, first served!]

[How to Buy: Starting December 23rd, the Communication Bean will be released simultaneously in 15 countries! Customers can purchase at the following locations — London, UK: 118 Diagon Alley, Aslan Magical Workshop Store; New York, USA…]

…

Wade was sitting in his wardrobe space, currently crafting a new magical doll.

Under the effects of Transfiguration, the clay bubbled and flowed upward from the base, gradually taking the shape of a short figure—

Sparse, straw-colored hair clung to the scalp messily; sunken eye sockets and pale skin gave it an eerie look. Though it was still inanimate for now, those round eyes looked like they might dart around at any moment.

It had a hunched back, wore what looked like a tattered burlap sack, and resembled both a street beggar and a human-sized, upright rat.

Wade tapped his wand, lifting the tip of the puppet's nose slightly, then nodded with satisfaction.

This looks about right—just like how I remember it…

"Ding-ling-ling… Master, you have a visitor."

The golden bell hanging on the wall rang a few times and spoke aloud.

Wade paused his doll work, folded away the wardrobe space, and headed downstairs.

By then, Harry had already opened the front door at the sound of the doorbell and exclaimed in delight, "Remus!"

A travel-worn Remus Lupin stood at the door holding a suitcase, smiling warmly at them.

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⭐Harry Potter: Becoming a Study God (HP:BSG)- +235 Chapters

⭐MCU: Druid's Adventures (MCUDA)(⭐COMPLETE⭐) - Total Chapter 460

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