Dumbledore had lived for over a hundred years, and his understanding of the magical world far surpassed even his understanding of himself.
Which masters were there, and where did they live?
Even if Dumbledore didn't know their exact addresses, he knew what countries they were in.
He listed many masters that Kingsley hadn't even considered.
By noon, a list of over a hundred nas had finally been compiled.
The Sorting Hat ca back midway, scratched Harry's palm, and inford him that Sirius had been safely brought to Hogwarts.
"We'll try to negotiate with the Ministries of Magic in other countries as best as we can," Kingsley said as he recorded the nas one by one.
Tonks remarked in awe, "How can there be so many masters?"
She had always thought masters were rare.
But one unexpected na after another ca out of Dumbledore's mouth, making her feel like she was pulling carrots out of the ground—one grab, one master.
"This is all of Europe," Kingsley shook his head, baffled by Tonks' surprise.
Over a hundred nas made for a massive number, involving 44 European countries and even so distant regions.
For the British Ministry of Magic, this was a monuntal task.
"Voldemort may not know as much as Albus," Harry said softly. "And while the Wild Hunt doesn't care what country a master is from, their sources of information co from Death Eaters."
"So, more likely, he'll target British wizards—especially those likely to aid us."
Kingsley nodded in realization, heavily.
They then parted ways.
Harry and the others returned to Hogsade. This ti, Geralt didn't resist Apparition. He finally understood why Harry didn't complain about such a rough mode of transportation—other magical travel options weren't much better.
Just as they stepped into Hogwarts—
Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map. Sirius's na was pacing nervously in Lupin's office.
They went straight there.
Just as they pushed the door open—
Sirius inside looked startled, imdiately raised his wand, and only relaxed once he recognized them. "Harry, Geralt, what's going on? Why was I suddenly called to Hogwarts in such a panic?"
"To keep you safe," Harry said plainly.
Sirius frowned slightly, "Didn't Crouch already get caught? Even if there's still a Death Eater out there, I'm not afraid."
"It's not about the Death Eaters," Harry interrupted him. "It's the Wild Hunt."
"Last night, Bashat and Ms. Gorshak—a master historian and a master of charms—were captured by the Wild Hunt."
Sirius looked puzzled. "What's that got to do with ?"
"They're targeting masters now," Harry explained.
Sirius still didn't get it. "So what does that have to do with ?"
"You're a master of Transfiguration," Harry said after a pause, looking directly at him.
Sirius was stunned, pointing to himself. "?"
He couldn't imagine such a serious word as "master" being associated with himself—especially when the Transfiguration master he knew was Professor McGonagall. He felt miles behind her.
"You're an Animagus," Harry said irritably. "Aside from Professor McGonagall, you're the only one."
Sirius scratched his head. "Is that so?"
"So I'm not worse than that greasy git?"
"He's a Potions Master, and I'm a Transfiguration Master?"
Harry sighed without responding.
Dumbledore smiled and nodded. "Of course, Sirius, you've always been outstanding."
Harry didn't chi in, instead telling Sirius in detail what had happened the previous night.
After hearing it all, Sirius nodded blankly. "So, why do you suspect Crouch had another helper instead of You-Know-Who being resurrected?"
"That's certainly a possibility," Harry nodded. "If so, that would actually be the best-case scenario."
"But I fear it's unlikely."
"If dear Tom were resurrected, Crouch wouldn't try trusting Snape. That only happens when he hasn't been revived yet, still lacking sothing. Crouch isn't ready and has no choice but to trust Snape for now."
Sirius nodded, thoughtful but confused.
After a while, he still couldn't make sense of the tangled ss in his mind.
"So, I have to stay in Hogwarts until we catch Voldemort?" Sirius tilted his head and casually changed the subject.
"I'm afraid so," Harry nodded.
Sirius sighed, "There's a concert at Christmas..."
Harry said nothing, just quietly looked at him.
Sirius gave in. "I know, Harry. I know. I won't be so reckless."
Geralt glanced sideways.
This mode of interaction, no matter how many tis he saw it, always felt refreshingly new.
Sirius settled into Hogwarts—of course, he didn't sit still. With permission, he occasionally helped Lupin teach a few classes. His wildly different teaching style was instantly noticed by the students, and the Gryffindors cheered—they'd get to have two of the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professors in a single school year.
Dumbledore also wrote to Newt Scamander, inviting him and his wife to stay at Hogwarts for a while.
But Scamander declined, preferring to stay with his family—especially with Christmas approaching. He wanted to spend the holiday at ho.
If the Wild Hunt really was coming...
Norbert was a full-grown young lady now.
anwhile, the British Ministry of Magic was having a hard ti connecting with other Ministries. Just like in Britain, Dumbledore, Harry, and Snape didn't pay much heed to the Ministry, and other countries' masters were similar—free spirits who ignored official calls.
Only for the sake of Dumbledore's and the famous Mr. Potter's nas did they begrudgingly agree to et with Ministry officials.
Whether they actually listened was anyone's guess.
The only good news was that, since that night's incident, the Wild Hunt had gone completely silent—as if they had vanished.
Until Christmas Eve, when a heavy snow fell.
In Dorset, Great Britain—
The Scamander family gathered rrily around a long table. Not all elder wizards lived in isolation like Dumbledore. Scamander had a perfect family—and three purebred Kneazle cats, who were arching their backs and hissing at the door.
As if sothing truly ominous was coming.
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