A Certain Magical Hogwarts

The night was dark, the sky covered by the thick dark clouds.

Even so, standing a hundred meters above ground, William could still see the slender outline of an obelisk. It stood against the horizon, like the gnomon of a sundial.

The marble obelisk, over a hundred meters tall, marked the core of the enormous estate.

All the meticulously designed geometric streets and the layered buildings radiated outward from this pinnacle as their focal point.

Only from an aerial perspective could the full aesthetics of the estate truly reveal itself to the observer.

As the Thunderbird descended further, William began to sense magic once again.

In fact, the moment William entered the range of the estate, several kilometers out, his magical abilities had been suppressed, rendering him effectively no different from a Muggle.

It wasn't until he drew closer to the central structure that he felt the flow of magic return within him.

Ancient, powerful defensive spells encompassed the perimeter of the estate, shielding it from the prying eyes of any wizard.

Having lived for over six centuries, Nicholas's meticulous approach to security was simply unparalleled.

As the Thunderbird continued its descent, a sudden roar shook the night. It was deafening.

Flames erupted violently, forcing the Thunderbird to flap its wings and ascend sharply, narrowly evading the fiery attack.

Looking ahead, William saw that a dragon had launched the attack.

Keeping dragons in an estate? Well, William had just commented on the estate's security, only to have slapped back in the face the next second.

Squinting through the dim light, William could make out the dragon's form. Its scales glimmered black-green, and its long, golden horns radiated an enchanting light.

Thanks to Hagrid's passion for magical creatures, William had once sent him a photo of a dragon and recognized this one immediately—it was a Longhorn Dragon.

Longhorn Dragons were exceedingly rare.

Their golden horns, when ground into powder, were highly prized as an ingredient for potion-making.

Because of this, Longhorn Dragons had long been a focal point of conservation efforts, their horns classified as Class B Tradeable Goods.

Their natural habitat was primarily in Romania, home to the world's most significant dragon reserves, where wizards from around the globe could study various dragon species up close.

Charlie worked in Romania.

But William soon noticed something was wrong.

This dragon was exceptionally irritable, as if disoriented by its surroundings.

If it were a pet raised by Nicholas, such behavior would be unthinkable.

The dragon opened its mouth wide and unleashed another torrent of flame, obliterating a pavilion on the estate's lake.

Chains of golden iron bound the dragon, and house-elves wielding wands tirelessly cast Stupefy at it.

Yet the dragon tore through the area with brute force, leaving behind only clouds of dust and waves of heat. The roar of breaking stones and the dragon's ear-splitting cries filled the air.

Newt's face went pale. "It's Bellerion! Merlin's beard, the poor child actually escaped the case."

"Ah..." William was dumbstruck.

Child?

You're calling a fire-breathing lizard, towering several meters tall, a...child?

If William hadn't been watching Newt say this, he might've thought it was Hagrid talking.

Wait...

Could Newt's earlier mention of sending a "child" to Romania possibly mean this dragon?

So, the Sorting Hat had made yet another questionable decision. Instead of putting Newt in Gryffindor, it had sorted him into Hufflepuff!

Was there some misunderstanding the Hat had about badgers?

Compared to Newt bringing a dragon to a birthday party, Hagrid raising Fluffy at school seemed downright adorable.

Truly, comparisons can be cruel.

William began to suspect that Newt's expulsion from Hogwarts was likely because of some similarly "cute" creatures he had brought there.

At this moment, the dragon was still thrashing wildly.

Newt gestured for Frank to approach. It seemed only Frank could calm Bellerion down.

The Thunderbird screeched, avoiding fire as it hovered closer.

Standing on the Thunderbird's neck, William gripped its feathers with his left hand to steady himself, while tightly clutching his wand in his right.

If the old man's plan to soothe the dragon failed, William would have no choice but to use magic to shield everyone.

While Newt was an expert magizoologist who advocated peaceful coexistence with magical creatures, William had no idea how one could possibly pacify an agitated dragon.

Soon, the Thunderbird drew near the dragon. Standing atop the Thunderbird's head, Newt, his thick hair obscuring his eyes, spread his arms wide and faced the dragon at eye level.

Compared to the dragon, Newt was a mere speck, yet he didn't even draw his wand. Instead, he opened his arms wide and stared directly at the dragon.

The next moment, not only Hermione but even William was wide-eyed in disbelief.

The Longhorn Dragon roared in rage, but then suddenly, it let out a huff, its eyes shifting into a shy, fearful expression.

The dragon leaned its snout toward Newt, who sternly tapped its head with a curled finger.

As if sensing Newt's emotions, the dragon descended from the sky, its horned head slightly bowed, and pitifully wagged its tail at the old man like a guilty puppy.

At that moment, only one phrase came to William's mind: What the...

With the dragon subdued, the Thunderbird drew an arc and landed gracefully in front of everyone.

Nicholas Flamel and an elderly witch with snow-white hair were smiling at them.

It had been a while since William had seen Nicholas. He wasn't wearing his usual Givenchy coat but an apron, as if he'd just emerged from his lab, his face dusty and disheveled.

Nicholas's wife, Perenelle, wore an elegant gown and exuded a warm kindness.

"Children, long time no see."

Nicholas greeted William and Hermione warmly.

The two quickly handed over the birthday gifts they had prepared.

Hermione gave a set of dental care tools.

Nicholas happily accepted them. "Perfect timing, my teeth have been bothering me lately," he said with a smile.

William offered a box of tea leaves—Eastern teas were quite popular among Westerners.

BobaTea leapt off William's shoulder and curiously explored the unfamiliar surroundings. Perenelle, holding a fish treat, managed to lure the cat toward her.

"I've always wanted a cat," Perenelle said as she cradled Boba Tea with a smile.

It was the first time William had seen his own cat act so docile toward a stranger. Truly, he was the type to bully the weak and fear the strong.

The group made their way toward a blue house, which resembled a giant seashell.

"Newt, you need to replace that suitcase of yours. If I hadn't caught the issue in time, the entire estate would have been attacked by that dragon," Nicholas said with a jonking tone.

"Sorry," Newt replied with an embarrassed laugh.

"Don't just apologize. You've got a problem now." Nicholas pulled out a newspaper and handed it over.

"You've caught Rita Skeeter's attention. That woman's relentless. She even knows you plan to send the dragon to Romania," Nicholas said, his tone laced with schadenfreude.

The headline read: Man or Beast? The True Face of Newt Scamander!

The article, penned by Rita Skeeter, alleged that Newt had never been a magizoologist but rather Dumbledore's secret agent, who infiltrated the American Ministry of Magic in 1926 under the guise of magical creatures.

It further accused Newt of being a despicable scoundrel and a heartbreaker.

The article claimed he had abandoned Seraphina Picquery, then President of the American Ministry of Magic, while she was pregnant…

Newt couldn't hold back a curse!

That woman had nearly sentenced him to death, and most importantly—what did Picquery's child have to do with him?

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