Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

The dim gas light swayed, the sound of water dripping from the arch dome was particularly clear in the silence.

The new leader of the Scourers, Yodel Bronlin, stood in front of a wooden table covered with an old map, his suit still neat and elegant, but the surrounding environment was exceptionally dilapidated.

Because not long ago, the hideout they were inhabiting had fallen under the control of the Witch Pure Party.

Although more than a day had passed, the Witch Pure Party most likely had already evacuated from that cavern, but no one proposed to send someone to take a look.

A hideout that has been exposed must never be approached a second time—this is the experience the Scourers gained through long and bloody struggles.

Although many wizards had joined them, mastering a lot of Magic, and even adult wizards like Serra Abigail, who graduated from a formal school, the Scourers could never fully understand how many means the entire Magic World really had.

Similarly, most wizards couldn’t understand the methods of Muggles.

The Witch Pure Party destroyed the surveillance cameras a few minutes too late, which was enough for Bronlin and the others who escaped to the abandoned subway tunnel to figure out through the recorded footage just how they were exposed.

"A drunkard... a fool who couldn’t keep his tongue in check... almost ruined what we had been working on for years!"

Bronlin said softly, the icy anger seemed to churn within the hollow tunnel.

Rolando Stern sighed and whispered, "Sorry, it’s my fault... I should have thought sooner, letting such a student fresh out of the training base take on an important task was too reckless."

But they had no other choice, because there weren’t many wizards among the Scourers, most of whom held key positions.

And those who were sent out to spread rumors in the Magic World had to be wizards or people with wizardry lineage, otherwise, they couldn’t even find the hidden shop entrances in the Magic World.

As a result, students fresh out of the training base became the best candidates, their clear and foolish demeanor made it easier for them to gain trust.

Who could have thought? Such a simple task of casually chatting with someone could end up in such a mess.

Upon hearing this, Abigail, who was leaning against the wall, quickly straightened up and said self-reproachfully:

"No, it’s my dereliction. I... I only taught them how to harness Magic Power and how to use Spells, but forgot to train them on the caution and self-control needed during task execution... I’m sorry."

She lowered her head, and in front of her flashed scenes from when Oliver was learning magic at the training base, with voices full of admiration:

"Teacher Abigail, you’re really amazing!"

"Teacher, I’ve mastered a new magic, come and see how I’m doing!"

"Teacher, teacher, what new interesting things did you encounter during your outing this time? Tell us about it... please!"

Abigail’s heart ached, and in a haze, it seemed as if other happy, chaotic voices were shouting:

"Merry Christmas, Professor Abigail!"

"Haha, dear Serra, you are becoming the students’ favorite professor!"

"The Dementor was terrifying! Professor, fortunately, you rescued us in time!"

A voice pulled her out of the illusion, sounding both true and false—

"It’s not your fault, Serra."

Bronlin, suppressing his anger, said, "Teaching the next generation how to do things wasn’t your task either."

"This failure also reminded us: for those kids with too many ideas, a whip is not enough. We should let them periodically experience the outside world, so a couple of drinks won’t lead them to forget who they are!"

"Yes." Everyone responded, lowering their heads.

No one was foolish enough to remind Bronlin now—

Bringing those underage wizards to the isolated training base was meant to facilitate brainwashing, to cultivate loyalty to the organization, and to prevent the dazzling, complex world from causing them to forget the original... hatred towards the Magic World.

"As for that boy Oliver Hornby... find him! Let him pay the price for his loose tongue! We need to let everyone know the consequences of betraying the Scourers!"

"No problem." Stern nodded: "However... if my expectation is correct, he should already be dead."

"Why?" Abigail frowned and asked: "Rather than killing him in anger, wouldn’t wizards prefer to keep him for interrogation to gather information? Besides, like in the United States, the United Kingdom doesn’t easily issue death sentences."

"Serra..." Stern softly called, with an almost unnoticeable sympathy and pity in his eyes.

Abigail suddenly felt a great unease, quietly retracting her trembling fingers, and tried to speak calmly: "Rolando, what do you want to say?"

"There’s something I never told you before."

Stern hesitated, slowly saying: "When those kids were sent to the training base, the leader... I mean Leader Thorne... would have someone leave a Curse on their hearts..."

Abigail only heard a buzzing in her ears, as if hundreds of people were ringing a bell, her pupils instantly contracted, subconsciously wanting to refuse to continue listening, but some invisible force pinned her firmly to the ground.

Stern’s voice seemed to drift over through water:

"If they choose to betray the organization or leak secrets, the Curse will activate immediately, causing them to die of massive internal bleeding."

"This process is very rapid, and since it occurs internally, even witches... cannot stop it."

"So... if Oliver didn’t withstand the interrogation and leaked secrets or was forced to take Veritaserum... in any case, he would be dead by now."

"Oh, I see!" Abigail heard herself say in an extremely cold voice: "It’s indeed a good way to prevent leaks. So? Might there also be such a Curse on my heart?"

"Of course not." Stern showed a gentle smile: "You joined the organization of your own will, with beliefs more steadfast than anyone else’s, needing no shackles at all."

Abigail looked at him coldly: "Stern, don’t think I’m as easily fooled as a three-year-old."

Stern silently scrutinized her expression, seeing that she seemed only concerned whether she was cursed and not at all upset or displeased by Oliver and others’ plight, his smile became more genuine.

"I’m telling the truth."

He said helplessly: "Of course, mainly because... you had to deal with famous, powerful wizards like Albus Dumbledore and Fontana before."

"Those kinds of people might have a way to detect curses. To keep your identity hidden, naturally, the curse would not be placed on you."

This "privilege" was only for a very few, the most trusted wizards.

Stern silently regarded Abigail and swallowed the latter part of his words.