Return of Salazar Slytherin

142- Academic Misconduct

The next day, the sun rose as usual, but the arrival of that day's Daily Prophet felt like a 500-kilogram bomb had been dropped in the Great Hall.

—[Lost Spell, a Blessing for Werewolves — The Greengrass Family Discovers a Human-Reversion Spell Invented by Salazar Slytherin]—

When Rhys saw the headline mentioning "Salazar Slytherin's invented spell," he couldn't help but break into a cold sweat.

It was like stealing a classmate's research results — as if someone had worked hard on their research, and then someone else added a few tweaks and rushed to publish the paper without even crediting the original researcher.

If Rowena Ravenclaw were to find out about this, it might very well spark a wizarding war.

"Make sure you never mention this to Lady Ravenclaw," Rhys decided to warn Daphne, advising her to keep her mouth shut about the whole matter.

Daphne: "?"

"Why?" she asked.

"Ehm.. No reason."

'The real question should be why your father insisted on claiming this as Slytherin's lost work.'

Unlike Rhys, the students of Hogwarts were far more focused on the spell itself.

"Really? It feels like a dream."

"So does this mean there will be no more werewolves in the future?"

"Not exactly, but at least now there's a treatment once someone turns into a werewolf."

The students buzzed with excitement, and even the professors weren't immune to the chatter.

If it had been just a standard news release, they might have kept their composure, thinking it could be exaggerated. But Jamison Henry Greengrass had gone a step further — he attached the original manuscript of Slytherin's supposed lost work at the end of the article.

He even thoughtfully included a translated version, claiming this was a legacy left by the great Salazar Slytherin for all wizards, inviting everyone to study it and correct any translation errors.

That changed everything.

Most of the professors at Hogwarts were not fools; they knew their stuff. As soon as they laid eyes on the original manuscript, they could tell it was authentic. Whether or not the spell itself could work was still up for debate, but the wording and phrasing were unmistakably in line with the style of medieval wizards.

After a brief discussion among the professors, they concluded that this was indeed the handwriting of Salazar Slytherin—or at the very least, it was a genuine manuscript from the Ancient times.

"No wonder the Greengrass family, a pureblood lineage passed down from the Ancient times, has such treasures," even Professor McGonagall couldn't help but express her admiration for the Greengrass family.

After reading the article in the Daily Prophet, Dumbledore handed the newspaper to Snape, whose expression became increasingly complex as he read. He had a hunch about what was going on.

"Severus, can you brew the wolfsbane slow-release potion described in the manuscript?" Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with interest.

The manuscript clearly stated that the potion could greatly improve the success rate of the spell. In other words, if one's magical skill was high enough, they could force a werewolf to revert to human form even without the aid of the potion.

Snape's face went through a range of emotions before he grudgingly replied, "It's complicated, but not impossible."

"Can you help me brew a batch?" Dumbledore asked.

After some hesitation, Snape finally agreed to Dumbledore's request.

He knew exactly what the potion was intended for, but his pride as a potions master wouldn't allow him to lie. If it could be done, it could be done; if not, then it couldn't.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

The emergence of this manuscript had come at just the right time, reminding Dumbledore of someone currently suffering under the hardships of life.

Coincidentally, Professor Lockhart had just been admitted to the hospital, and his condition had worsened, with no discharge date in sight. Hogwarts now needed a substitute Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

After breakfast, Dumbledore hurried back to his office with a copy of the Daily Prophet.

Locking himself in his office for half a day to study the Slytherin manuscript, Dumbledore estimated that he had a fifty percent chance of successfully casting the full human restoration spell without relying on the wolfsbane slow-release potion.

With the potion's assistance, the success rate could reach one hundred percent.

The reason Rhys had worked so hard to improve the wolfsbane potion was to reduce the difficulty of casting the human restoration spell to the level of an ordinary advanced spell.

Feeling confident, Dumbledore wasted no time.

He picked up his quill and swiftly wrote a letter on parchment.

The letter was quickly sent out.

...

Though it was only early September, nighttime temperatures in the Irish mountains had already dropped below ten degrees Celsius.

In this drafty, dilapidated cabin, freezing to death without any heating was entirely possible.

The cabin had long been abandoned, often attracting vagrants seeking temporary shelter. For instance, right now, a man in a tattered, worn-out robe, looking sickly and exhausted, set his suitcase down on the cabin floor.

"This counts as checking in, right?" he thought to himself with a wry smile.

The vagrant looked quite young, but strands of white hair were already mixed in with his light brown hair.

He stepped outside for a moment and returned to the cabin, carrying a large log. After placing the log into a dark hole in the wall, the man pulled out a wand—this downtrodden vagrant was a wizard!

With a few swift motions, he chopped the log into kindling, and soon a bright flame was flickering in the hearth.

Once the fire was lit, the disheveled wizard tidied up the filthy cabin, using bits of debris to plug the drafty corners. The cabin was now barely habitable.

The wizard planned to stay here for the autumn, and when winter came, he intended to cross the sea to southern France or Spain to spend the colder months.

A properly educated wizard rarely finds themselves in such dire straits. If they do, it's usually because they carry a dark secret.

Remus John Lupin was such a man with a secret.

He was a werewolf.

Remus Lupin was both unfortunate and fortunate, though the unfortunate aspects outweighed the rest.

As a child, he had been bitten by a crazed werewolf, transforming him into one himself. However, Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, did not turn him away because of his condition and allowed him to attend the school. There, Lupin made close friends and learned the magic that would sustain him.

Unfortunately, the Wizarding War broke out. Of his three closest friends, one was killed by the Dark Lord, and the other two turned on each other—one was imprisoned in Azkaban, while the other was left without even a body to bury...

The loss devastated Lupin, and despite his youth, he began to grow white hair.

Since the fall of the Dark Lord, Lupin had been wandering aimlessly, as he was now.

His status as a werewolf, combined with his defeated spirit, led this powerful wizard to live like a vagrant.

———

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