Hogwarts: I can load entries infinitely!

Mesferos had a sneer on his lips and his eyes were fixed on Dumbledore sharply.

His voice was low and sarcastic, as if every word was carrying a thorn:

"I've heard that using the hand of death to cut off Tindaros's access to the macro world, tsk tsk, that cost a lot of lives, right?"

He said, applauding gently with a kind of cold appreciation.

"I have to say, it was a really good show, wonderful. However, I still have to remind you, Albus, this time is different from seven years ago."

He walked slowly and his tone became more meaningful.

"The enemy is in the dark, and you are in the light. Moreover, if you only have one Deathly Hallows in your hand as a bargaining chip, it won't be that easy to play the 'borrowing a knife to kill' trick again."

After Mesferos finished speaking, he stared at Dumbledore with a mocking smile on his lips.

But he quickly calmed down, as if waiting for Dumbledore's response.

Dumbledore nodded slightly indifferently, his eyes deep.

"Well, so this time, I'm going to be much smaller."

His tone was low, but with an unquestionable determination:

"But I'll make sure they're eradicated. And then—"

He raised his eyes and looked directly at Mesferos, his blue eyes seemed to be burning with perseverance.

"I'll go with you."

Mesphilos raised his eyebrows and showed an expression that was half-smiling.

He nodded slowly, the curvature of the corners of his mouth carrying an unpredictable meaning.

"Okay. But don't think that I will be on your side."

Dumbledore's face didn't waver at all. He just responded calmly:

"Of course. All I ask is that you don't take their side."

Mesferos pondered for a moment and nodded slightly in acquiescence.

He turned around and his eyes fell on Devereux who was writing furiously in the mirror.

Devereaux raised his hand covered with parchment, as excited as if he had just cracked a major problem.

At this moment, Mesphilos suddenly said in an understatement:

"Something dirty is coming in."

His tone was casual, but with a hint of warning.

Dumbledore was stunned for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully.

He didn't say anything more, he just turned around slowly, his robed back looking particularly deep in the dim light, and finally disappeared into the shadow of the door.

——

Devereaux was so excited that he jumped up from his chair and waved the parchment in his hand, as if the whole world was under his control.

He even spun around on the ground with undisguised joy on his face.

"Professor! We did it! We really did it!"

He shouted excitedly, holding up the parchment filled with treatment plans with both hands, as if celebrating a victory.

"Even before Halloween, we may be able to completely solve lycanthropy! Think about it, if this method can be popularized, in a few decades, there may be no more werewolves in the world!"

Snape listened to his cheers, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved in a rare arc.

It was not his usual sneer, but a rare and sincere joy, even a little relieved.

A trace of tenderness flashed in his eyes, and he said softly:

"Yeah, Devereaux, the world has really changed because of you."

Devereaux's excitement had not dissipated, but his mind was suddenly drawn back to another thing.

He turned sharply and looked at Snape, a look of uneasiness on his face.

"Wait a minute, Professor! What about the duel competition over there? Based on the time I've been immersed in creation, shouldn't the finals have already been played?!"

Snape raised his eyebrows slightly, and his usual sarcasm returned to his lips.

"Oh, that's for sure. You have been automatically judged as a forfeit due to your absence. The game has ended long ago and the champion has been chosen. It's a pity that our great genius missed the five hundred galleons bonus."

When Devereux heard the news, he slapped his forehead, his expression suddenly filled with regret.

"Ah! Five hundred Galleons! Although it is for the safety of the school, but-"

He covered his heart, as if he really felt that huge sum of money slipping through his fingers.

He let out a sigh, his face full of unwillingness.

Just when he was unwilling to give in, a familiar chuckle came from the door.

"Haha, Devereux, don't listen to Severus' nonsense."

Devereux raised his head and saw the door of the underground classroom being pushed open, and a large group of people walked in.

Standing at the front is Professor Flitwick, followed closely behind him by Professor McGonagall, Professor Slughorn, and Dumbledore!

What is even more surprising is that the reporter and editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet are also on the list.

As soon as the reporter entered the door, he picked up his camera and took pictures of Devereux.

The shutter clicked one after another, and the flash came on frequently, leaving Devero confused.

He raised his hands to cover his eyes and took a step back.

"Wait, wait, what are you doing? Did I, did I do something?"

Professor Flitwick stepped forward with a smile on his face, holding a heavy bag in his hand. Devereux glanced at it and thought that Professor Flitwick might actually be dragging the bag with him.

"Professor, what does this mean?"

Devero put the parchment aside curiously, stepped forward and asked.

"Hahaha, of course we must give an award to our Hogwarts Duel Open Champion!"

Flitwick's voice was full of excitement, and he handed the bag to Deveraux forcefully.

"Here, take this!"

The moment Deveraux took the bag, his arm suddenly sank. He looked down at the heavy bag and was shocked.

"I became the champion of the duel competition? But I didn't even participate in the rest of the competition! So this bag is..."

He hurriedly opened the bag, and his eyes were almost blinded by a shining golden light.

"Five hundred gold galleons! The real stuff!"

Flitwick laughed loudly, his face full of pride.

"You don't know! After you left, all the remaining opponents gave up! No one dared to challenge you head-on. Everyone said that fighting you was like seeking death!"

He swung his wand into the classroom, and a crisp ** "Snap! Snap! Snap!" ** sounded. Then, warm applause and cheers came from all around, as if the entire underground classroom was boiling.

"Deverot is first!"

"Wuhu! Deverot won the championship!"

Flitwick smiled from ear to ear:

"This is the cheering sound recorded by your friends just now. I think you should listen to it."

Other professors also applauded, and even Snape nodded slightly, showing a rare expression of relief.

Dumbledore stood in the corner, his eyes full of praise, and winked at Deverot gently.

Deverot was very happy to hear everyone's cheers and applause.

But after a while, the picture became a little strange.

"Your Excellency won the championship!! Long live the Dark Lord!"

"The fourth generation Dark Lord is the champion!"

Flitwick's movements also stagnated, and he quickly waved his wand and stopped the recording magic.

He looked at the reporters of the Daily Prophet awkwardly. Those people were still holding cameras and pointing them at Deverot, and the shutter sound still didn't stop.

"This segment... will definitely not appear in newspapers, right?"

(Fourth update!)