"Like Elphias Doge, who was in the same year as Dumbledore—I personally think he's a fanatical admirer of the headmaster," Harry's gaze followed the Creevey brothers until they sat down before continuing, "And there's Nicolas Flamel, Bathsheda Babbling, Adebe Wolfing—"
"Who's that, Adebe what?" Ron interrupted, chewing cautiously on his food with the right side of his mouth.
"Adebe Wolfing, a specialist in magical theory," Hermione quickly explained. "What else, Harry?"
Harry hesitated for a moment. "And Dumbledore's brother."
Ron choked, quickly covering his mouth and spoke softly after a while, "The barman at the Hog's Head Inn?" He widened his eyes, as if trying hard to recall, "Tell us more, Harry, I'm really curious. Do they look alike from their school days?"
Harry thought for a moment and nodded gently.
"Imagine that, a Dumbledore look-alike being a barman," Ron said happily, looking towards the staff table.
"Actually," Harry couldn't help but explain, "you can easily tell the difference between the two. They have very different personalities. Aberforth—I mean Dumbledore's brother, he's not much of a reader, always wearing a provocative expression. If it weren't for having Dumbledore as his brother, he'd probably get into a lot of trouble..."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, also looking towards the staff table, where Dumbledore was talking to Hagrid, with Professor Vector and Professor Babbling listening intently. Changing the subject, he said, "Hermione, I was wondering, have you ever tried to fully unleash your magical power, like, blowing up a section of the Forbidden Forest..."
"He's definitely a tough character, Dumbledore," Hagrid lowered his voice, buzzing with excitement. "I found something amiss when I was patrolling the Forbidden Forest this morning, a large section of it had been damaged. I can't imagine what kind of creature could have done it, even the giants couldn't do this. It must be some dark wizard up to no good..."
Felix and Grindelwald, who could clearly hear nearby, exchanged thoughtful looks.
"Hogwarts has upgraded its new defense system, if anyone sneaks in, they will definitely be detected," Felix said softly.
"Exactly," Dumbledore agreed, "I'll handle this matter myself," he glanced at Grindelwald, "It may be caused by a professor practicing magic privately, I'll warn them."
"Oh, I thought—" Hagrid shook his head, "You really should take a look, it's even scarier than I described. The centaurs are worried, and it's close to their territory." When his gaze shifted to Felix, he paused, showing a shrewd look.
"Not me," Felix immediately said.
"Of course, why would—" Hagrid hesitated, but from his expression, he obviously wasn't completely convinced. "Think harder, Hagrid," Felix hinted with a meaningful look, "We've known each other for over a decade."
Grindelwald casually flipped open a page of the magazine "Who Decides Ancient Runes".
Hagrid paused for a moment, "Now that you mention it... I do recall something, um... it was when I visited Professor Kettleburn some time ago, he mentioned it to me. After retiring, he settled in Hogsmeade, and I occasionally visit him for advice, you know, since classroom 7 is closed, Scamander..."
Felix interrupted. Silvanus Kettleburn was Hagrid's predecessor as Care of Magical Creatures professor.
"He took you to the Forbidden Forest a few times, during... " Hagrid suddenly faltered, "Uh, you know, your school years. Kettleburn thought you'd be heading towards a career in magical creatures, but it turns out you're only interested in certain aspects, like the skin of a manticore being resistant to spells, and even inquired about where to buy clothes made from this material."
"Just satisfying curiosity," Felix said dryly.
"It sounds like Kettleburn took it seriously. After that, he immediately moved the manticore to a more remote location," Hagrid said gruffly, "Took quite a bit of effort."
"Everyone has unrealistic fantasies when they're young. At least I don't need it now."
"Yeah, I remember Kettleburn saying that, for a while, his biggest hope was to retire in peace," Hagrid said wistfully, "But, sadly, he only achieved half of that wish." He muttered, "Missing a hand and a leg..."
Dumbledore kindly asked, "Is Silvanus getting along well with his new limbs? I sent him a whole set of enchanted wooden prosthetics when he retired, but I heard shortly after that he developed a penchant for visiting the dragon reserves."
Felix turned his head to the other side, addressing the somewhat uncomfortable Slughorn (due to sitting next to Grindelwald), "Professor Slughorn, I'm planning a banquet and will be inviting many master potion-makers. You are undoubtedly one of the best. Do you have any plans recently?"
Slughorn delicately dabbed his mouth with a velvet handkerchief.
"Oh, oh, I've been quite busy lately, my boy... But," he immediately continued, "Since you're inviting me, I'll definitely make time. May I ask who else you've invited?"
"Let me think... Severus, Damocles, Dorothy—" "Dorothy Pommel?" Slughorn asked incredulously, "You managed to invite her?"
"Yeah, I think I can. And also the president and some members of the Extraordinary Potions Society, a few from the Saint Mungo's Magical Medical Association, some Ministry officials..." Felix slowly said, "I'm considering whether to invite the Alchemical Association, though it doesn't seem too relevant, and those master potion-makers from abroad..."
"Do you have confidence? I mean, you know all these people?" Slughorn widened his eyes, looking horrified.
"Well, not really acquainted, but I know some people at the local Ministry who can send out invitations on my behalf. And also, I have confidence in what I'll be presenting," Felix said casually.
Slughorn spaced out for a moment, dreamily saying, "I'm starting to feel curious about your banquet."
Dumbledore, who had been quietly conversing with Hagrid, lifted his head, a slight smile playing on his lips, as if he had just made an excellent shot in a game of Gobstones.
"I hate Ancient Runes," Grindelwald muttered, staring at the magazine in his hand, his lips curled in a slight frown.
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