Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

”Thud... thud... thud...”

The strange knocking sound was giving him a headache even in his dream, as if someone was hammering it into his head.

Vid suddenly woke with a start, glanced at the time, and found he’d only been asleep for less than two hours.

He wondered if he had another nightmare, but then he really heard the ”thud” sound—very faint, completely different from the deafening feeling in his dream.

Vid could recognize the distinct footsteps caused by a wooden prosthetic leg hitting the floor.

Moody had arrived.

Given what happened at the Quidditch World Cup camp, it was normal for the Greys to seek out wizards they knew to find out what was going on.

Vid lay back in bed at ease, but after just two seconds with his eyes closed, he sat up suddenly again.

He almost forgot, this year, Moody might not still be ”Moody,” one should always be careful around him.

Vid threw on his robe, got out of bed, and arrived at the window in time to see Moody limping into the yard, while the Greys stood at the door welcoming him.

After carefully observing his neighbors to confirm it was indeed them, Vid sighed in relief and returned to bed, though he could no longer sleep.

Perhaps his nerves, which had suddenly tensed earlier, couldn’t completely relax just yet.

Though Moody had long been retired, he still knew quite a few Aurors and had been in life-and-death situations with many. Even if some thought he was now erratic, no one could deny that Moody was always the best Auror.

The Ministry of Magic still had many admirers of Moody’s, like Ron’s father Arthur Weasley, who held him in high regard.

Therefore, if Moody was seeking information, those people wouldn’t likely keep anything from him.

Vid snapped his fingers, and shortly after, the door opened a crack, and a small poppet sneaked in and climbed onto Vid’s pillow.

”What are your orders, Master?” Ali asked, looking up.

Vid placed the little poppet in his palm and whispered, ”Go listen to what Mr. Moody is saying to my parents and report back to me.”

”Understood.” Ali nodded, jumped from his hand, and silently slipped out through the door crack.

Vid rubbed his forehead. Using [Flame God] twice in a short period without sufficient rest was making even standing feel wobbly.

He simply took out a bottle of Calming Potion and drank it in one go. As soon as he lay down, he quickly entered a state of deep, relaxing sleep.

...

Ali quietly closed the door, then slid down the stair railing to the first floor. The Greys were bringing Moody inside, while the poppet hopped onto the table, eagerly pouring tea and water.

Dobby was busy in the kitchen, and the house was filled with the aroma of beef pie.

”Look, last night’s incident has been reported in the Prophet Daily; these reporters are quicker than the Golden Snitch.”

Ferdinand, holding a freshly delivered newspaper, spread it out for Moody to see.

Fiona leaned over next to him, reading the text and black-and-white photos on the newspaper, instinctively reciting the content:

”Quidditch World Cup hit by Dark Magic attack, unexpected intervention from the Witch Pure Party... The Ministry of Magic confirms this was a premeditated Dark Magic curse... At least 17 dead and over 200 injured... A horrendous, malicious event...”

”During the attack, the Ministry was panic-stricken and almost inactive... As for the forest curse incident, it’s confirmed the Ministry’s intelligence network received no warning, nor did it take any effective measures at the time of the event...”

”Ms. Umbridge, a spokesperson for the Ministry, stated that the attack is still under investigation, not ruling out the possibility of self-staging by certain Dark Wizards... The perpetrator has not been caught, and Dark Wizards remain at large... The Ministry’s performance is deeply disappointing... and brings shame to the country...”

”The cursed mascot will not recover soon... Bulgaria and Ireland have filed claims against the British Ministry of Magic... Minister Fudge stated he would not abandon holding both parties accountable... Heated disputes ensued...”

Moody scoffed upon hearing this, and Ferdinand sighed helplessly, putting down the newspaper.

”What’s the matter? I haven’t finished reading it!”

Fiona picked up the newspaper again, sitting aside to continue reading.

She soon discovered that the second half of the news was entirely about discussing who should take the most responsibility for this incident, along with a picture showing Fudge with a bloody nose, while a toad-like, squat witch beside him hopped around anxiously, trying to wipe the blood off his face.

Perhaps the image in the photo had more courage than the real person, Fiona then saw the plump witch leap up and pin Fudge down before wiping his nosebleed away with a handkerchief.

Unable to hold back a chuckle, she suddenly realized something was amiss—where was the follow-up investigation? What actions was the Ministry taking? Even if they couldn’t catch anyone, what preventive measures were to follow? Was there any warning issued to the public?

But the report had already ended.

Fiona turned the page, only to be greeted with an image of Krum catching the Golden Snitch, and then an entire piece on the Quidditch match.

Flipping further—Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch stars, Flying Broomstick advertisements…

Dobby snapped his fingers, making breakfast appear on the table, then busied himself tidying the kitchen stove.

Moody and Ferdinand seemed to have guessed what the rest of the report contained, and neither paid it any further attention.

”This time is special, the Ministry was caught off guard.” Moody pulled an old hip flask from his pocket, took a sip, and said, ”But don’t expect them to do anything afterward either.”

Ferdinand spoke in a low tone, ”I just hope they don’t release the Dementors again.”

”They won’t, Fudge has bigger things to worry about; he’s eager for people to forget this incident quickly.” Moody sneered, ”But unfortunately, those reporter hyenas won’t let the Ministry off easily this time.”

”What do you think caused this event?” Ferdinand asked, ”Was it really Grindelwald’s people intentionally staging an attack to demonstrate power?”

”Although I dislike those guys, there’s no doubt the papers are full of nonsense.”

Moody stabbed a knife into the pie and said, ”If it were Grindelwald pulling the strings, there wouldn’t be a second attack—he’d have directly let the forest rush into the pitch, causing countless casualties, and only then appeared as a savior! Rather than secretly resolving the enchanted trees outside the pitch.”

”But...” Ferdinand frowned, ”They got the information in advance yet didn’t alert the Ministry to prepare and directly acted themselves... Grindelwald can’t possibly have become some selfless saint, can he?”

”Of course not.”

Moody was amused by his suggestion, and the scars on his face twisted and contorted as he laughed.

”You saw that magic too, Ferdinand. Such a terrifying magic spell didn’t come from Grindelwald, but from that young man standing beside him.”

Moody’s face darkened involuntarily, seeming to recall the scene he had seen through the Flow Mirror, and he reflexively took another swig of strong liquor.

His expression severe, he said, ”I’ve actually heard a saying before... a rumor... It is said that Grindelwald found himself an heir...”