Chapter 107: First Cooperation, Divergent Thoughts
Adult wizards travel short distances mainly via Floo Network and Apparition, long distances via Portkey or riding magical creatures, with only a few eccentric wizards insisting on using Muggle methods in Muggle cities.
Kristin and Melvin walked leisurely along the asphalt road by the Danube River, stopping occasionally to look at roadside vendors, suddenly feeling that this professor was truly detestable—how could Aunt Vida and Abnercy believe his words and hand over the Saint to him?
“Kristin, you’ve probably never even met Grindelwald, so why did you join the Cabal?” Melvin asked casually.
They had just left the hotel, as this person was lazy and got up late, only simply washing up before going downstairs. Kristin kindly told him there was still breakfast, though it wasn’t as good as when freshly made, but not completely cold either.
At the moment, Melvin was carrying a paper bag of chimney cakes, eating them with warm milk as he walked, crunching away, not a very elegant sight.
“It has nothing to do with the dragon egg theft case; I have no obligation to answer your question.” Kristin said calmly, not wanting to reveal internal Rosier family matters.
Melvin didn’t mind: “Beauxbatons graduate, why not stay in Paris?”
“…”
Kristin’s eyebrows furrowed slightly; this person’s question stirred up memories of her time in France, not pleasant ones.
“It has nothing to do with the theft case; I don’t want to answer.”
“I see…”
Melvin muttered, smiling silently without pressing further.
The two walked silently along the Danube River, Kristin watching the constant ripples on the river surface, her light-colored eyes dazed in thought, memories of Paris surging up and disturbing her mind.
“Really don’t want to talk about it? Your expression seems full of stories.” Melvin turned to look at this witch. “And it’s the kind involving intense conflict between parental affection and free will.”
“?”
Kristin frowned and looked up; the young professor beside her had finished his chimney cakes, tossed the empty paper bag into the trash bin by the bridge, pulled a tissue from his pocket to wipe his hands, looking completely nonchalant.
“Have you investigated me?” she couldn’t help asking.
“No need to investigate, just a guess…” Melvin took a sip of the warm milk. “A young lady from a pure-blood family, leaving the familiar family sphere to join distant relatives she’s not close to—either your parents forced you into a career you dislike, or the family pressured you into a marriage alliance with another pure-blood wizard.”
What was clearly two years of agonizing torment, coming from his mouth, sounded like some lowbrow, second-rate cliché drama; Kristin felt complicated, yet couldn’t refute it.
The two walked along the river road, waiting for Melvin to finish his nearly expired box of milk. Kristin silently watched the road and river surface, her peripheral vision occasionally glancing at the professor beside her, her gaze shifting slightly.
Deep down, she secretly prayed for summer vacation to end soon, so this professor would return to school to teach sooner.
“Is Beauxbatons very good at Alchemy?” Melvin asked.
“It’s decent; the school emphasizes Ancient Runes teaching—only those who pass Runes can take Alchemy.”
“Oh, how were your Runes grades?”
“Outstanding in both level exams, but I didn’t choose Alchemy; I didn’t like those courses.” Kristin paused. “Hogwarts’ Alchemy courses are excellent too, right? I heard Abnercy mention a new invention called the projection mirror there recently.”
“Our school only has Runes; we haven’t opened Alchemy courses yet.”
“That’s nice…”
Melvin’s expression was thoughtful, vaguely piecing together this witch’s experiences.
It was nothing more than the Rosier family noticing her talent, coercing and cajoling her into studying Alchemy, planning to push her into a position with resources to expand the family’s influence into that field. Perhaps they were too forceful, or their methods too harsh, or maybe Kristin truly had no interest in Alchemy, so she fled overseas.
They finally entered a remote alley by the street, accompanied by a faint quiver of air, their figures vanishing.
…
Morning, at the edge of the Carpathian Mountains, the scrying mirror in the cave trembled at a fixed frequency, the sign of detecting a fire dragon’s trail.
It was extremely quiet all around, only the occasional whoosh of breeze through the cave; bizarre-looking monster-revealing mirrors, dark magic detectors, and detection antennas were set up here, covering half the cave—if laid out on the surface, these instruments could scan several thousand feet nearby.
The other Cabal followers were glad they didn’t have to follow Vida on a suicide mission, just investigating case leads, and they were putting in effort where needed, spending money where required.
Special scrying mirrors for tracking fire dragons, antennas that alert to conspiracies and lies, mirrors that reveal disguises and track locations… one could say they had sealed this pass; no wizard could pass through undetected.
Steady footsteps entered the cave; detecting an approaching unfamiliar wizard, the monster-revealing mirror and golden antenna trembled slightly twice, finding no disguise or lies, then returned to calm.
Deep in the cave, Abnercy and Vida exchanged a glance, then turned to watch Melvin and Kristin approach.
The old witch stayed silent; Abnercy sighed helplessly and began reporting the situation.
“That group’s plan to steal the dragon egg was very thorough: inciting a dozen fire dragons to rampage simultaneously, planning to slip out of the country amid the chaos in the reserve.” Abnercy glanced at Melvin. “But thanks to Professor Levent helping them quickly subdue the fire dragons, the Romanian Ministry of Magic sealed the borders faster than expected. Those wizards didn’t dare force a breakout and got trapped inside.”
Melvin nodded thoughtfully.
After the dragon egg theft case, most tourists were detained in Romania, all relevant staff suspended; the Ministry investigated to clear suspicions before allowing departure.
They had left smoothly yesterday via a special passage, for complex reasons: first, helping subdue the fire dragons themselves; second, Professor Kettleburn being a longtime customer; plus Hogwarts’ reputation at work…
“With the border lockdown and anti-Apparition in the reserve, those thieves have no Portkey and haven’t escaped yet. The Aurors picked up their trail last night, chasing their asses for over ten hours, herding that bunch through the mountains.”
“We guess the thieves over there are about to crack and will force a breakout.”
Abnercy spread out a map of the Carpathian Mountains, pointing it out to Melvin: “Aurors chasing inside, us scouting outside. Scrying mirrors pinged at these five spots; we’ve checked three, suspect they’ll force through these two.”
The Carpathian Mountains have varied terrain; the two marked spots on the map—one a flat, open grassland with visibly tight blockade, the other a rugged, narrow valley with dense vegetation, blockade strength unclear.
Melvin thought briefly, then frowned: “Has the Ministry set ambushes at these places?”
“They can’t.”
Kristin beside him answered: “Some Aurors are temporarily suspended, already short-handed. Even if the Ministry pulls aid from surroundings, they can only blockade the mountains, not set ambushes at all these spots simultaneously—likely just one.”
Abnercy nodded in agreement with her analysis, then sighed: “But we couldn’t find out where the Aurors are ambushing. Vogel hasn’t acknowledged us old friends in ages, let alone leak info.”
Kristin stared at the map, thought a moment, and pointed to the valley: “From what I know of our director, he’d ambush here.”
“Where the Aurors ambush doesn’t matter; what matters is where those thieves break through.”
Old Vida’s voice was shrill and slightly grating; she looked up at Melvin and asked sinisterly: “Professor Levent, what do you think?”
This wasn’t out of respect, more like enjoying the show.
Melvin wasn’t Grindelwald, after all; the Cabal’s deal with him was three years of service, not sworn loyalty. Gathering this intel was already diligent; at the key moment, Melvin had to decide himself.
If he chose wrong, it was his problem, not the Cabal’s.
Melvin ignored her little scheme, looking down at the prominent dragon egg mark just added to the hand-drawn map, lost in thought.
“They want to leave with the dragon egg; route choice is critical. Once out of the anti-Apparition zone, they can shake the Aurors. If it were me, I’d pick the open grassland over risking the narrow valley.”
Melvin analyzed unhurriedly, pointing respectively: “They’re bold but cautious thieves, not fools. The valley is long and narrow with dense green plants on both sides—blocked, and they’re done for.”
“Then we gather manpower now and ambush outside the grassland?” Abnercy looked up at him.
“No need for your involvement. The dragon egg theft case is serious; too much Cabal involvement might draw Romanian Ministry suspicion later, causing unnecessary trouble.”
Melvin shook his head: “I’ll go alone.”
“…”
Watching the young professor make a rubbing of a map and leave the cave outpost, Abnercy sighed again—he’d sighed countless times in these two short days.
Vida felt inexplicably heavy-hearted.
With their equal transaction, this professor seemed to truly treat the Cabal as partners, considering their position, while they iron pots always suspected the silver kettle’s base was black.
Kristin gripped her wand, light flickering in her pale eyes.
…
Late June at the Carpathian Mountains’ outskirts was warm, vegetation lush and green, especially the broad, flat grassland stretching verdantly, giving a heart-soothing view from afar.
The Aurors’ temporary tent outpost was by some crushed stone, also equipped with scrying mirrors and anti-disguise magical items, though fewer in number and less comprehensive than the Saints’.
Several Auror teams patrolled and scouted back and forth, expressions grave; the entire grassland banned Apparition. Any wizard forcing through here would face attacks from 15 adult wizards crossing the grass—not a smart choice.
Amid tense patrols and searches, the sun wheeled from east to west, slowly sinking behind the western mountains.
Seeing the darkening sky, the temporarily reassigned Aurors relaxed a lot.
Per their intel, Department of Magical Law Enforcement and creature control staff had been chasing nearly two days and nights; those dark wizards were exhausted from fleeing and wouldn’t dare force through here even if desperate.
In the orange-red dusk, a lounger transfigured from hay sat under a tree not too near or far, its color blending into the vast grassland—hard to spot without close inspection.
“Wonder how they’ll break through…”
Melvin closed the storybook in his hand, bought at the market last night—supposedly a 16th-century collection from Hungarian King Rudolf II, an Alchemy Hermes school manuscript.
Actually just children’s fables, with convoluted wording and content not matching the Fungus Story Collection.
Kristin leaned against the tree, glanced at the grass-stained hem of his clothes, and asked softly in a hushed voice: “Is our target the dragon egg, or those thieves?”
“Depends on the situation; we’re not Romanian Ministry, no need to go all out.”
“…”
Kristin didn’t refute, just silently stared at him with those pale eyes.
A few seconds later, Melvin reacted, couldn’t help laughing, was about to explain when his peripheral vision caught a figure; he immediately stood and looked into the distance.
At the mountain edge meeting the grassland, with no woods for cover, sunset lit scattered rocks—normally patchy orange-red, but covering the mountainous area weren’t stones, but neatly arranged dragon scales.
Sunset on the black scales gleamed colorful; a Hebrides Islands black dragon raised its head, low roaring like mournful whimpering.
Under a dozen gazes, the black dragon lowered its head, sniffing faint scents in rock crevices, piquing the on-site wizards’ curiosity.
A flying broomstick shot out like lightning from the rear, straight toward the mountain border—no wizard aboard, just a dragon egg dangling from the tail!
“Roar…”
The black dragon roared in fury, spread its huge bone-spiked wings, and whooshed after it.
Kristin watched the distant commotion, momentarily stunned, mind racing to sort intel, soon realizing what those dragon egg thieves had done.
Melvin narrowed his eyes, thinking those wizards were mad, but madly clever.
From the start, they’d planned to use fire dragon rampages for cover amid chaos, but sealed inside, after two days evading, they didn’t panic—instead swiftly changed plans, luring Aurors in circles in the reserve, unwittingly baiting a fire dragon out with the egg.
No rash daytime breakout; at dusk, they provoked the fire dragon as vanguard, following behind to rush the blockade.
The Aurors by the tents were in chaos.
They were Aurors, not keepers, lacking fire dragon experience, and didn’t dare casually intercept the broom, fearing curses that might shatter the egg—this black dragon would likely go berserk on the spot.
Scrying mirrors and detection devices beeped; instruments warned dark wizards approaching, but dusk grassland churned by the black dragon’s wingbeats was too turbulent to see clearly.
