Chapter 175: Lupin, A Biological Male Who Considers Himself Female
“I have my channels,” Vaughn said dismissively. “In short, the relationship between Salem and the Purifiers is basically like this. There’s no strong connection between the two. The protest organization Tonks and Kingsley encountered might not be related to the incident we’re investigating.”
“Of course, we shouldn’t let this lead go either… The so-called Purifiers in Oliver’s memories might not be the same kind as the Purifiers we know!”
“What do you mean?”
Ajinbad asked, confused. “What do you mean by Purifiers and Purifiers not being the same kind?”
Vaughn stood up, gently extended his hand, and watched as a “viscous” moonlight, like fog and cloud, descended into his palm.
A cool, watery sensation rippled in his palm.
Gazing at the moonlight, Vaughn slowly said, “The Purifiers we know are the wizards who betrayed the wizarding world centuries ago and converted to Muggle churches. Mercenaries, though no one understands why they betrayed or converted, they were still wizards, people who wielded great power.”
“The problem is this: they possessed power, magic. In Muggle society, this is an unparalleled advantage. However… Ajinbad, for centuries, the Federation has been continuously infiltrating the United States of America, and especially you don’t disregard the existence of Muggles. So, tell me, in these past three hundred years, besides Bartholomew, have you had any news of the Purifiers?”
Ajinbad paused, looking directly at Vaughn, his voice deep and steady. “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m trying to say… perhaps the real Purifiers are long gone!”
Vaughn toyed with the moonlight in his hand and shrugged. “One of the reasons the Magical Congress was established was to purge the Purifiers, and they paid a great price for it. Almost all of the original 12 Aurors died in battle. Such a tragic outcome, the bloodshed and cruelty involved, how much of it was there? And how much hatred would it have bred? From my personal perspective, I tend to believe that the Magical Congress long ago wiped out the Purifiers – even if the Magical Congress itself didn’t do it, the 12 families would have.”
“But…” Ajinbad frowned, “What about Bartholomew and Mary Lou Barebone? They are definitely descendants of the Purifiers.”
“Who said that?” Vaughn retorted.
“Uh—”
The old wizard was stunned.
Vaughn smiled. “The Magical Congress said it. You, the Federation, including me, our information sources are all from the Magical Congress. The Magical Congress says Bartholomew is a descendant of the Purifiers… Whether it’s true or false, we have no way to verify. They could even point to a bag of flour and say it’s a deadly potion!”
Ajinbad was beginning to understand. He took a deep breath, suppressing his inner turmoil. “Are you saying that the Bartholomew incident, the Second Salem incident… all of this Purple Secrecy Law Green Crisis, was staged by the Magical Congress?”
He stared at Vaughn. “Where’s the evidence?”
“There’s no evidence.” Vaughn shook his head gently. “It’s all just speculation. The Magical Congress needs this kind of external threat. They need the public to believe that the wizarding world might be exposed, that the Salem witch trials might happen again. But the public isn’t stupid. Just saying it isn’t enough, so they created Bartholomew, they created Second Salem!”
These speculations were not fabricated by Vaughn out of thin air.
Various doubts were recorded in history. The most typical example was Mary Lou Barebone, who was investigated by Tina Goldstein at the time along with Second Salem.
Although Tina couldn’t help but use magic when Mary Lou Barebone punished Credence, that was not a reason for her investigation results to be ignored by the Magical Congress.
The fact was, Tina had already submitted a report, believing that Second Salem had a strong suspicion of leaking the wizarding world’s secrets, yet the Magical Congress turned a blind eye to it!
This made Vaughn guess – the Magical Congress, including the then-Chairman Picquery, had always known where the source was.
But they didn’t want to deal with it.
Or rather, they had facilitated it themselves!
This also explained why Grindelwald, at the time, was convinced that the Obscurus was within Second Salem, and thus disguised himself as Graves to approach Credence – because the two already knew each other!
Ajinbad was unaware that these secrets Blue would not be publicly disclosed by Newt until 2015.
Upon hearing Vaughn’s explanation, he subconsciously retorted, “Why would the Magical Congress create a threat? They…”
Before he could finish, he saw a sarcastic smile curl on Vaughn’s lips. “Of course, because the threat theory benefits them the most. Because using the threat theory to instill fear in the public is in line with the promotion of the Purple Rappaport Law, to confine magic to pure-bloods, rather than letting a bunch of half-bloods and mudbloods share it with them.”
“…”
Ajinbad was speechless.
His family, the Ajinbad family, was also a prominent family in Uganda, considered pure-blood. Based on his understanding of pure-bloods, this way of thinking was indeed widespread.
For a moment, he couldn’t speak.
He could only listen as Vaughn continued:
“Of course, the threat theory isn’t about creating an actual threat; it’s most beneficial when it remains in the hypothetical stage. Those who benefit are far more afraid of the threat theory becoming a reality than the public they are trying to scare.”
“Working backward with this idea as the foundation, it’s clear that eliminating all Purifiers, cutting off the real risks of the wizarding world being exposed, and keeping only a few under control would be more logical and consistent with the rules.”
Listening to this so-called speculation, although there was no evidence or definite conclusion, Ajinbad’s inner balance was gradually tipping.
He also understood Vaughn’s intentions in saying all this.
He looked up, and like Vaughn, gazed at the moonlight, which was like water, and murmured, “If the Purifiers were wiped out long ago, then the protest group that Shackle and Tonks saw…”
“Might just be a decoy, or a smokescreen for us to see!” Vaughn said lightly.
Ajinbad glanced at him, not asking why Vaughn, having considered this, still sent Kingsley Shackle and Lupin to investigate.
Those in high positions didn’t need pity; they only needed results!
If it were him, even with some speculation, he wouldn’t mind using the safety of his subordinates as a footnote to his own theories!
What puzzled him was something else: “If your reasoning holds, then why would the Magical Congress, which wants to monopolize magic, research artificial wizards? Aren’t they supposed to eliminate threats?”
“Eliminating threats and the Magical Congress potentially participating in research on artificial wizards are not contradictory,” Vaughn shook his head. “Control! As long as they believe everything is controllable, they will do it, just like humans research various biological weapons and nuclear weapons… In the end, wizards are still human; they are susceptible to greed and arrogance.”
As he spoke, Vaughn turned back and looked at Ajinbad’s increasingly heavy expression, smiling. “I’m telling you this just to remind you not to be blinded by historical records, and not to habitually assume that the source of those artificial wizards is the Purifiers, or something internal to the wizarding world. You need to be prepared for the possibility that magic has truly been exposed!”
“…”
Ajinbad’s dark face grew even darker. The implied meaning behind Vaughn’s words made his throat feel dry.
After a long silence, he emphasized again, “…I need evidence!”
“That will depend on what Kingsley and Remus encounter over there.”
Vaughn waved his hand, letting the moonlight in his palm slide down like sand, scattering into countless shimmering specks…
…
After leaving the suitcase space, Kingsley first found an Auror and instructed him to keep Umbridge under control. He planned to find Vaughn later to lift the Transfiguration Spell on the toad-lady.
Now?
The most important thing now was, of course, to investigate Third Salem as instructed by Mr. Weasley!
This was the first important task since joining Vaughn’s team, and Kingsley’s attitude was very proactive.
In his view, since he had already chosen his allegiance, any passive or indecisive actions were unwise. Only a proactive attitude was the best way to prove loyalty and gain trust.
Muggles say attitude determines destiny, and this saying holds true in the wizarding world as well!
For a high-EQ individual like Kingsley, a proactive attitude meant not only embracing the tasks assigned by his superior with the required passion and sense of mission but also paying attention to every detail given by his superior.
Therefore, when Vaughn told him to find Lupin and bring a few people, he executed the order without any compromise.
Lupin was not difficult to find.
His daily activity area was basically the floor where the WAC delegation was staying, either handling the blunders of various committee members or being ready at all times to serve President Vaughn Weasley!
When Kingsley found him, Lupin was scolding two elderly wizards in their fifties who were brazenly parading in lingerie:
“…Albert, Miller, how many times has this been? I’ve emphasized more than once that you need to wear Muggle clothes…”
“We are wearing Muggle clothes!” one of the old wizards retorted indignantly.
The other also puffed up his beard. “I suspect he’s targeting us, Albert.”
“Remove the word ‘suspect,’ Miller. That’s how Muggles dress on TV. Everyone else thinks we look good, only he complains all the time!”
“Do you think he’s using his authority to bully us?”
“Very likely!”
The two old men chattered back and forth, coupled with the astonished, curious, and peculiar glances from passing Muggles.
Kingsley saw Lupin’s face turn bright red, and he was worried the man’s head might explode at any second!
Fortunately, Lupin’s head was not so fragile. Seeing Kingsley in the distance and signaling that he was looking for him, he waved his hand wearily, sending the two increasingly angry old wizards away.
After the farce subsided, Lupin, looking exhausted, greeted him, “Kingsley, is there something you need?”
Watching the backs of the two old wizards, “ostentatiously dressed,” disappear around the corner of the corridor, Kingsley conveyed Vaughn’s instructions and then added, “…I suggest you select a few reliable individuals from the WAC delegation, perhaps wizards who have participated in similar investigative activities. It would be even better if there’s anyone familiar with Muggle society, culture, and customs.”
Lupin’s expression was somewhat grim.
It wasn’t for any other reason – he knew Kingsley had joined Vaughn’s team and had no objections, as they were quite familiar with each other.
He sighed. “Members of this delegation, apart from a few werewolf committee members, their understanding of Muggles is almost at the level of those two just now…”
“…”
Kingsley, surprised, couldn’t help but show a hint of sympathy towards Lupin.
He also suddenly wondered why Vaughn had been staying in the suitcase space, ignoring the delegation’s affairs. Was he truly engrossed in research, or was he trying to avoid the responsibility of managing the team…
He quickly shook his head, dispelling the disrespectful thoughts about the esteemed Mr. Weasley that had popped into his mind.
“How about the Aurors under your command?” Lupin suddenly asked.
Kingsley glanced at Lupin, as if having some reservations, and after some deliberation, replied, “They are indeed all good at investigation, having received very professional training and practice, but…”
“Kingsley,” Lupin interrupted him, his expression sincere. “Mr. President has acknowledged you as one of us. Both I and the other werewolves are very supportive of his decision, so you don’t need to have any reservations.”
Hearing this, Kingsley secretly breathed a sigh of relief.
This was precisely what he was worried about.
His upbringing had made him habitually cautious. He was very concerned that as a newcomer, receiving attention from Vaughn while also having his own team might lead to him being resented by “veterans” like Lupin.
That’s why, after receiving Vaughn’s instructions, he didn’t make the decision himself but specifically sought out Lupin to give him the lead.
However, these worries were only part of the reason.
Having let down some of his guard, facing Lupin’s questioning gaze, Kingsley shook his head. “It’s best not to use those Aurors. Even I don’t know how many of them are loyal to Fudge or Scrimgeour. Even if some are willing to listen to me, it’s because I am a senior Auror. If I were to detach myself from that identity, it’s hard to say if I could still command them.”
Unexpectedly, after saying this, Kingsley did not see any disappointment on Lupin’s face.
The middle-aged wizard, whose face was covered in ferocious scars and who always wore a melancholy expression, said, as if casually, yet perhaps with a hint of meaning:
“Not everyone can be unusable, right? That… that Nymphadora Tonks… that’s her name, isn’t it? I heard she’s Muggle-born, and she seems to fit the criteria quite well…”
“…”
Kingsley gazed at Lupin, and the corners of his mouth gradually curved upwards.
But for some reason, he thought of something, and his expression gradually drooped, fully demonstrating the remarkable flexibility of human emotions and expressions.
Lupin shifted uncomfortably, looking away. “Uh, why aren’t you talking?”
“It’s too embarrassing, I don’t know how to say it!”
“Ah?”
“Lupin, perhaps I should remind you that Tonks is only 19 years old. At your age, she’s still a child…”
Suddenly.
Lupin’s face visibly turned red, his ears engorged, making one imagine that a steam whistle might blow from them at any moment…
The two of them eventually found Nymphadora.
The young woman, who was playing billiards in the hotel’s entertainment area, was happy to be involved in the investigation:
“What did I tell you? That team was very suspicious. We should have gone undercover back then. You insisted on reporting back, I don’t understand what you were thinking… Hey, Remus, why are you always peeking at me? Is there something wrong with my outfit?”
“Uh, no, nothing. You look great, very beautiful… No, not beautiful… That’s not it, it’s be… I, I…”
Watching Lupin stammer and unable to speak clearly, Nymphadora quietly leaned closer to Kingsley.
“Is he okay? He looks so weird, has he been cursed?”
“Hmph, he’s perfectly fine. No curse, but plenty of Sweet Dreams Charms!” Kingsley said with annoyance.
“Your outfits are not good.”
“Why not? Aren’t these Muggle clothes?”
“Muggle clothes are also divided by people and categories. If you go find a group of protestors, and one is wearing an African robe, and the other is wearing a wool coat, what kind of combination is that? Halloween isn’t here yet, it’s obvious you’re trying to tell people you’re problematic. Who are those protestors? Non-conformists, understand, you two old men!”
Uncle Kingsley & Uncle Lupin: “…”
Nymphadora harshly criticized the taste and culture of the two middle-aged men, then rushed out of the hotel. Before long, she returned, carrying an armful of clothes.
Looking at the colorful clothes adorned with all sorts of bizarre skulls, bloody letters, and even abstract patterns of unclear origin, as well as leather clothes and pants studded with nails, chains, and flails that looked more like instruments of torture than clothing.
Kingsley and Lupin exchanged glances.
To be honest, before this, neither of them had thought investigating a group of Muggles would be difficult. In their plan, they would simply put on Muggle clothes, find the group, go undercover, and figure out their whereabouts and meeting points to find someone who truly understood the inside story or the mastermind.
The entire process should have been as uneventful as Kingsley’s previous protection of the Muggle Prime Minister, with the only difficulty being that the participants in the operation shouldn’t make fools of themselves.
But…
Within the same Muggle society, the cultures of people are still different?
Could I myself be the one making a fool of myself?
The two looked at the excited Nymphadora, then at each other, seeing a hint of worry and foreboding in each other’s eyes.
Nymphadora paid no mind to what the two middle-aged men were thinking. She grabbed a garishly colorful shirt, its beauty and allure indescribable, and appraised Lupin with a sharp gaze, making his hair stand on end and his scalp tingle.
Fortunately, Lupin’s skin saved him “one life.”
“White skin doesn’t quite pull off this hip-hop style…” Nymphadora murmured, stroking her chin.
Lupin immediately breathed a sigh of relief.
Beside him, Kingsley, who had been watching the spectacle, suddenly felt a sense of foreboding. As expected, Nymphadora’s gaze slowly shifted towards him…
…
In the afternoon, the East Coast sun was neither too gentle nor too scorching.
The humid wind tempered the heat that summer should have had, carrying the salty tang of the sea into Boston, a coastal city.
One woman and two men, three oddly dressed individuals, yet not entirely unusual in the magical land of America, walked out of the hotel.
Muggles passing by glanced at them and then continued on their way as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
However, the two men in the trio seemed quite constrained. The Black man in hip-hop attire constantly pulled up his loose pants, which seemed like they would slide off his backside with even a slightly larger step.
The White man in a leather outfit was sweating profusely, his posture rigid, as if afraid that the sharp accessories on his clothes would pierce him with blood wounds.
Only the girl among the three, dressed in a hippie style and chewing gum, appeared composed.
“Relax, lift your heads, puff out your chests. What did I say? Be arrogant! Be confident! Show your flair! How can you accomplish great things with me if you’re so nervous?”
“Kingsley, loosen up! Your posture shouldn’t be so stiff when you walk, understand? Swing your shoulders, shake your hips!”
“Lupin, you too. Don’t look so wronged. You’re not a bookworm or autistic. Smirk! Look at people with your nose!”
“There! That’s more like it!”
After fussing over the two middle-aged men for a while, Nymphadora finally nodded with reluctant satisfaction. As she led them towards the street where slogans could be faintly heard in the distance, she instructed them:
“However, your disguises are still not perfect. Once we get there, listen more and talk less. Leave the communication to me. If you absolutely have to speak, remember the personas I’ve created for you… Kingsley, what’s your persona?”
Kingsley’s eyes were vacant as he subconsciously recited, “Of African descent, fatherless since childhood, grew up in gangs, has manic disorder and substance abuse, greatly admires Manson, likes Dr. Dre’s music, firmly believes Dee Barnes falsely accused him…”
Listening to Kingsley’s recitation, Nymphadora nodded repeatedly in approval, then glanced at Lupin. “And yours?”
Lupin tilted his face. “Huh?”
“Your persona!”
“…” Lupin looked pleadingly at Kingsley, who gazed into the distance as if he had gone senile.
Damn it!
Kingsley was unreliable. Under the intense gaze of Nymphadora, who, despite her small stature, exuded immense power at the moment, Lupin finally stammered out things his brain told him not to understand: “White… extreme environmentalist, biologically… biologically male, considers himself… female…”
“Pfft—”
“Kingsley!” Nymphadora glared.
“Sorry, I’ll shut up!”
“Hmph! All of you, be serious. What’s so funny? I thought long and hard about these settings, and with them, you can integrate into those Muggle parades…”
The girl’s scolding echoed in the ears of the two dazed middle-aged wizards, making their brains numb and buzzing. Their usually agile minds seemed to have gone crazy, or as if they had been suddenly stuffed with too much information, becoming congested and crashing.
Only their eyes, as a sense, were still functioning.
They watched themselves follow Nymphadora down this street, arriving at a sun-drenched street block, and saw many people dressed strangely like themselves, holding banners and signs.
They saw Nymphadora walk into the crowd bathed in sunlight and say a few words, and the crowd cheered, waving at them.
Kingsley and Lupin exchanged glances once more.
The sunlight was bright, illuminating their pupils.
But in each other’s eyes, they seemed to see only darkness…
…
On the hotel rooftop, Matthew had been observing the situation of the three from afar. The sustained Legilimency Charm allowed him to hear many things that impacted his brain.
This made his expression a little grim, a mixture of lingering fear and sympathy—he had wanted to go too, but Lupin had rejected his suggestion, citing that he hadn’t had contact with Muggle society for a long time.
He had been a little displeased at the time, thinking Lupin underestimated him.
Now…
Sorry, Lupin is a good person!
Thinking this with relief, he turned to look beside him. On top of the hotel’s exhaust fan, a silver-white, semi-transparent cat was lying there, seemingly resting with its eyes closed.
It was Vaughn’s Guardian Spirit.
Of course, to some extent, it also represented Vaughn himself.
Matthew bowed his head slightly in respect and asked, “Sir, they are just a group of Muggles. Magic can be used to easily read their thoughts and memories, but why did you tacitly approve Miss Tonks’… bizarre undercover plan?”
The silver-white cat slowly opened its eyes.
Even in the afternoon sun, its eyes were as clear and brilliant as a galaxy.
At the same time, within the suitcase space, Vaughn, also with his eyes open, slowly spoke:
“Because someone is watching our actions, and your thoughts may be exactly what they want to see.”
“Who?”
“I’d like to know that too.”
Through the eyes of the Guardian Spirit, Vaughn saw illusory light screens descending from the sky. From afar, they looked like curtains, or perhaps like a tangled net.
They slid down from the heavens, moved without wind, and were unimpeded by anything. Not even wizards like Matthew could see them, yet they effectively covered the entire city!
……
*Whoosh—*
A spell shot out from behind, traversing the dense night like lightning.
The sharp reflex of being transformed into a cat, and the intuition honed by extensive training since arriving in America, allowed Isabella to barely change her posture in mid-air.
The spell grazed her abdomen and hit a building in front of her.
*Boom!*
The brick house instantly exploded, and countless fragments, along with smoke and dust, rained down.
The fur on her abdomen emitted a scorched smell, and along with her head and back that had been hit by a few brick fragments, it transmitted intense pain.
But Isabella dared not hesitate for a moment.
She landed lightly on the ground, nimbly avoided a few relatively threatening broken walls, and darted into the flying dust and smoke. The darkness and mist obscured her vision, but she still had her hearing and smell.
She smelled a strong scent of blood emanating from the collapsed house, likely meaning the owner had perished.
This made her a little sad.
But more than that, she felt powerless. She couldn’t block that cunningly timed spell, nor could she deal with the pursuer who cast it.
*Tap, tap…*
*Tap, tap…*
Footsteps could be heard again!
Isabella twitched her ears, trying her best to tread lightly. The pursuer seemed to have cast a Legilimency Charm on themselves, or possessed similar alchemical items. She was discovered because she moved a little too much while hiding.
She wanted to use these Muggle buildings, as she had before, to escape into the sewers.
The dirty, complex environment of the sewers could effectively mask her tracks, being far more useful than fleeing in open ground outside.
But this time, the pursuer’s cruelty and recklessness exceeded her expectations!
“Ignis Incendia—”
A high-pitched incantation rang out in the night. The terrifying magical fluctuations felt like a sudden storm on a calm sea to a wizard’s senses.
*Whoosh—*
Huge, orange-red flames erupted, crushing down like a tidal wave!
The terrifying power seemed to disregard the fact that her magic would affect the houses in the area, and even more so, the lives of Muggles who might still be sleeping!
Isabella’s eyes contracted violently from shock and fear.
There was also hesitation.
But after a brief moment, she quickly dispelled her transformation. A gust of wind stirred the dust, and the slender, weak cat elongated and transformed in less than a second.
Her disheveled but still graceful female form appeared in the dust. She drew her wand and quickly made a few gestures in the air:
“Protego Maxima!” （ Ultimate Shield Charm ）
A variation of the Full Body-Bind Curse, a magic with stronger protection and a wider range, covered the Muggle residential area in a bowl-shaped arc centered on the ruined house.
The next moment, the flames descended like meteors from the sky.
The terrifying impact, the instant it made contact, caused large cracks in the bowl-shaped shield. The flowing flames slid down the shield, spreading, and then—
*Snap!*
The shield shattered!
Isabella grunted, her face pale, and intense pain courled through her body. She barely managed to control herself and not collapse, then waved her wand again.
A short and obscure incantation left her lips. Several bricks, reddened by the flowing flames, flew up, transforming into sharp arrows and shooting into the night.
Several crisp sounds came from the darkness.
However, Isabella had no time to pay attention. She transformed back into a cat, using the brief cover to dart away.
She knew her counterattack was ineffective!
The enemy was far stronger than her!
If she didn’t want to endanger the innocent Muggles, she could only change her plan, leave this residential area far behind, and place her hope of escape on destiny…
But today, the goddess of destiny had played a trick on her!
Just as she rushed out of the residential area, several dense spells shot out from the darkness behind her. Isabella narrowly dodged two, but three still hit her.
To her surprise, her attacker did not seem to intend to kill her.
She had been hit by the Petrifying Curse!
The spell, empowered by strong magic, destroyed her Transfiguration magic learned from Vagar, the moment it hit her. But faster than the dispelling of her transformation was the rapidly spreading paralysis from the point of impact.
Every inch of her skin and bone became numb and stiff.
She fell from mid-air, then was caught by a silent Levitation Charm, which slowly pulled her backward.
At the same time, a cloaked figure slowly emerged from the darkness behind.
“I don’t know whether to call you kind or foolish!” the wizard said, walking up to her and poking her stiff body with his wand. He snorted with an unreadable expression, “You finally found a place to escape, but you gave it up for a group of Muggles. If you had gone into the sewers, you might have actually escaped from me.”
Isabella kept her eyes open.
Under the effect of the Petrifying Curse, she couldn’t control a single muscle, not even her eyes could turn. She couldn’t see what the wizard looked like.
She could only judge from his voice that he was likely a middle-aged man with a New York accent.
This made her breathe a slight sigh of relief—at least it wasn’t one of those unnervingly silent Purifiers she had encountered recently!
But her heart was still in her throat. The Petrifying Curse did not affect her mind, and she desperately tried to guess the wizard’s identity.
A civilian resistance organization?
The Magical Congress?
After much thought, she could not come up with any certain answers.
America was too chaotic. Ever since last year, when a young mother, in despair over her tragically deceased child, committed a suicidal attack and died at the Woolworth Building, this land had been dragged into hell.
A wizard’s hell!
