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HRHL# CHAPTER 182
🕑 Added 2025-05-15 01:02:44 +0000 UTCHarry had no reason to hide anything, so he recounted the events involving Miss Farley in detail.
Upon hearing that Miss Farley had been defeated by Harry, Veratia nodded knowingly and reached out to pinch Poppy’s chin.
“So that’s how it is.” Her grip was a touch too firm, making Poppy bleat in protest, muttering under her breath about “the evil Grindelwald.”
Harry set down Miss Farley’s letter and said to Veratia, “By the way, there’s only a week left until term starts—I’m kind of looking forward to seeing how the teachers and students react when you’re sorted. After all, your brother has a bit of a reputation in the wizarding world.”
The Scamander family turned to stare at Harry as if he were an alien.
You call her brother’s reputation “a bit”?
You call a dark wizard who nearly burned Paris to the ground and is infamous worldwide—albeit not for good reasons—“a bit” famous?
“It’s been so many years; they’ve probably forgotten by now,” Veratia said nonchalantly. “Besides, there’s this Voldemort fellow around now. Whatever you say about Gellert, at least he had the excuse of working for the greater good of all wizards. But Voldemort? What’s his excuse?”
“Sister, it wasn’t an excuse,” Gellert tried to protest.
But clearly, his objections fell on deaf ears.
Having made some new friends, Harry decided to buy a few more Christmas gifts for everyone.
For Newt, he chose a set of freshly shed snake skin from Alfonso. For Tina, an antique courtly accessory. As for Theseus, a wand maintenance kit.
Of course, Harry didn’t forget Gellert, for whom he bought a nest of Nifflers.
“Gell will love them,” Veratia said while they were picking out the Nifflers.
Harry agreed and was certain Veratia was definitely Gellert’s sister—no doubt about it.
The Christmas Eve feast was entirely prepared by the house-elves. These endearing little creatures might not be the most charming in appearance, but when it came to household chores, they were absolute professionals.
In just a few dozen minutes, the elves had whipped up a lavish banquet for the entire household.
“I actually quite like British food. Why isn’t there any on the table?” Gellert began his critique. “British cuisine has plenty of merits, like, er… well…”
“Like your favorite British dish being a redheaded cream puff,” Harry shot back.
Gellert set down his knife and fork, falling silent.
Newt said nothing, but carved his pie into the shape of a thumbs-up.
“I feel like the whole world is against me,” Gellert sighed. “Potter, is there not even a shred of sincerity between us?”
“Probably not,” Harry said earnestly. “You’re a dark wizard, and dark wizards are the most deceitful. You can’t trust a single word they say.”
“Who taught you that nonsense?” Gellert demanded, eyes wide.
Harry didn’t answer, but his glance at Veratia said it all: Your sister taught me.
Gellert took a deep breath, lowered his head, and resumed eating.
What else could he do? Fight his sister?
Holidays were always fleeting, but thankfully, second-year Christmas break came with no homework. As the start of term approached, there was no need to frantically catch up on assignments in the Great Hall.
Third years and above, however, weren’t so lucky. Rumor had it Snape had assigned everyone a lengthy essay. The Weasley twins were in the Gryffindor common room, pestering the studious students, hoping to “borrow” their work for reference.
“We should’ve started earlier,” they said in unison.
Their classmates nodded sympathetically. After all, scrambling to finish homework the day before term starts was a rite of passage. Without it, the school experience would feel incomplete.
Harry returned to Hogwarts on January 9th, but since Veratia wasn’t yet a student, she stayed at Mr. Flamel’s house, protected by the Fidelius Charm, and would arrive at school the next day for the start of term.
Back in the dormitory, Harry found Ron in a full-on sulk.
“What’s wrong with him?” Harry asked Neville and Seamus, who were nearby.
“Don’t ask,” Neville said, barely holding it together. “Ron won two matches in the Wizard’s Chess tournament.”
“Two wins?” Harry clapped Ron on the shoulder. “That’s not bad! Why so down?”
“Because he lost sixteen,” Seamus said, exchanging a look with Neville before both burst into laughter.
Ron sniffled, clutching his pillow in silence.
“I bet he’ll never play Wizard’s Chess again,” Seamus remarked.
By dinner, the news of Ron’s 2-16 record in the chess tournament had spread across the school.
“Weasley! Weasley!” Draco called from the Slytherin table. “Heard you lost sixteen matches? Really sixteen?”
“Shut it, Malfoy!” Hermione tugged Ron away, urging him to ignore the little prat. “Listen to me, Ron, don’t pay him any mind. Chess is just a game—winning or losing is normal. In my book, you’re still the best chess player.”
“Really?” Ron turned to her.
“Do I have to say it again?” Hermione said, her face stern.
Ron scratched his head and gave a sheepish grin.
“Where did you and Veratia go for Christmas?” Hermione asked. “Did you get the gifts I sent you both?”
“I did,” Harry said, poking at his chips to mix in the ketchup. “Your package went to the Dursleys’ and was forwarded to France. Sorry, I can’t tell you exactly where the Flamels live—it’s under the Fidelius Charm.”
“I understand,” Hermione said with a smile. “Did Veratia like my gift?”
“She loved it. You know how she’s into Muggle stuff.” Harry speared a chip and stuffed it into his mouth, savoring the hearty bite.
January 10th was a Sunday, the final day of the Christmas holidays.
The next day marked the official start of term at Hogwarts.
As was tradition, the students gathered in the Great Hall for the welcome-back feast that evening.
But this opening banquet felt different from those before.
The Great Hall was no longer decorated in the colors of the previous House Cup champion, Gryffindor. Instead, it was divided distinctly among the four houses.
The enchanted ceiling still displayed a dazzling night sky, with vibrant nebulae twinkling above, a breathtaking sight.
Students sat at their tables, buzzing with excitement as they whispered about the new faces at the staff table.
One was familiar: Newt Scamander, author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
Next to him sat an elegant, dignified older woman who seemed less than fond of Mr. Scamander.
Veratia took a seat beside Harry, with Hermione, starry-eyed, sitting next to her.
“Veratia, which house do you think you’ll be sorted into?” Hermione whispered.
“Why don’t you take a guess?” Veratia asked with a smile.
“I bet Gryffindor,” Ron said confidently. “You and Harry get along so well, after all.”
Hermione subtly pinched him before he could finish, as if to stop him from pressuring her into Gryffindor.
“I think maybe Slytherin,” Veratia said with a light chuckle. “I believe I have certain qualities that fit the snake house, don’t you think, Harry?”
“Maybe,” Harry said, scratching his neck. “Though I always thought you’d be Ravenclaw. You love reading so much.”
“I don’t read to chase knowledge, Harry. I wouldn’t make a good Ravenclaw,” Veratia said, smiling.
“But if not for knowledge, what’s reading for?” Hermione asked, puzzled.
Veratia leaned close to Hermione’s ear and whispered, “Power.”
Before the feast began, Professor McGonagall tapped her fork against her goblet, the sharp ding-ding-ding silencing the hall.
The students, still buzzing with chatter, quickly fell quiet, ready to hear the headmaster’s speech.
“It is always a pity that the Christmas holidays are so fleeting,” Professor Dumbledore said with a warm smile. “It seems we barely have time to savor their joys before they vanish into the winter winds.”
“I’m sure you’ve noticed we have two new faces at the staff table this term.”
“The first is Professor Vinda Rosier, who will replace last year’s Gilderoy Lockhart as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”
The hall erupted in gasps of surprise.
To be fair, “Professor Lockhart” had been a fan favorite last year, with most students charmed by the seemingly accomplished bestselling author.
“Why replace Lockhart?” some students shouted, their protests echoed by others.
“Silence, please,” Dumbledore said calmly. “I must clarify that the person who taught Defense Against the Dark Arts last year was, in fact, Professor Rosier.”
A long, drawn-out “Ehh?” rippled through the hall.
“I regret to inform you that Gilderoy Lockhart was a fraud. He repeatedly extracted tales of adventure from his victims, then used the Memory Charm to erase their recollections, shamelessly claiming their deeds as his own.”
“It was this honorable lady…” Dumbledore glanced at the composed Vinda. “…who used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate Lockhart, infiltrating his inner circle to gather evidence of his crimes and bring him to justice. Let us give a round of applause for the esteemed Professor Rosier!”
The students clapped enthusiastically, cheering loudly.
So last year’s “Professor Lockhart” was someone else in disguise via Polyjuice Potion—and this professor would continue teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this term?
What was there to complain about? They were all for it.
Once the applause died down, Dumbledore continued, “In recent years, our Care of Magical Creatures professor has decided to retire to tend to his remaining… limbs.”
“Fortunately, I am delighted to announce that his replacement is none other than our distinguished Hufflepuff alumnus—Newt Scamander!”
Dumbledore turned and gestured to Newt.
Newt stood, bowing repeatedly with his head down, as if eager to sit back down.
The student tables exploded in cheers, with Hufflepuffs shouting loudest. Some even climbed onto the tables to celebrate Professor Scamander.
After all, Scamander was a Hufflepuff—a source of pride for their house.
When the applause subsided, Dumbledore raised a hand for quiet.
“Additionally, two teaching assistants will join our staff. The first, as many of you know, is our gamekeeper—Rubeus Hagrid!”
Hagrid clapped absently until Professor McGonagall nudged his arm.
Snapping out of it, he stood, his massive frame nearly toppling the table.
McGonagall sighed, regretting her decision to make the giant rise.
Harry leapt to his feet, cheering loudly for Hagrid, rallying the Gryffindors to join in.
To support Harry, Miss Farley and a few Slytherins also clapped for Hagrid.
When the applause faded, Dumbledore spoke again. “In addition to the staff changes, I have one more announcement. This term, a transfer student will join our sixth year. Naturally, she will need to be sorted. I imagine, after all your time at Hogwarts, this is the first time you’ve seen a ‘new student’ of this age being sorted, isn’t it?”
The students chuckled at the little joke.
“Now, let us proceed with the Sorting, led by Professor McGonagall—or rather, the sorting of our new student.” Dumbledore winked playfully and sat down.
All eyes turned to Professor McGonagall, eager to see who this transfer student was.
Some students would spend seven years at Hogwarts without ever witnessing a transfer.
McGonagall stood, carrying the Sorting Hat by its pointed tip, and placed it on the stool at the front.
She called out, “Veratia Grindelwald!”
At the staff table, Vinda Rosier sat up straighter, curious to see what kind of witch the sister of her master was.
A stunned silence gripped the hall, soon giving way to a wave of murmurs.
“Grindelwald? That Grindelwald?”
“Good heavens, it’s a Grindelwald… Isn’t he locked up in Nurmengard? Does he have descendants?”
“Merlin’s beard, a Grindelwald heir at Hogwarts? How could Dumbledore allow this…?”
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T/N: If you find any typos or incorrect names, please leave a comment. Thanks, and enjoy reading!
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