On the fifth day of his hospitalization, after a thorough examination by Madam Pomfrey, Weilan finally met the conditions for discharge.
He stepped out of the Hospital Wing, wearing his school robes and cloak, cleaned with a Scouring Charm and perfectly mended.
Weilan's old school bag, having suffered too much abuse, was beyond repair and regrettably had to be discarded.
Before he left, Madam Pomfrey gave him a cloth bag, which Weilan used to carry his Invisibility Cloak, Merlin coin, and the remaining small bottle of Night Vision Potion, as he walked towards the dormitory.
The outdoor air was dry and cold, and his shoes crunched on the accumulated snow in the courtyard.
Some students were hiding behind cover, having a snowball fight, and a snowball whizzed past Weilan's nose, cutting through the air. He wasn't angry; he threw a snowball back and then laughed heartily as he ran away.
The Castle was already filled with the spirit of Christmas.
The portraits on the walls were newly decorated, and the Great Hall already had Christmas trees set up, though not yet adorned. Passing through the long corridors, one could even hear suits of armor practicing Christmas carols.
Weilan walked with light steps back to the Gryffindor common room. As soon as he entered, he saw several large canary creams, with their fluffy feathers, wandering around the common area.
“It seems your canary creams are selling very well!”
Weilan walked over to the Weasley twins and pulled out a chair to sit down.
The common room was noisy. Everyone was excited about the upcoming Christmas.
“That’s for sure!”
George packed another box of canary creams, with a label that read “To Cedric Diggory.”
He and his brother winked mischievously at Weilan:
“We heard you used our canary creams to defeat an enemy in the Forbidden Forest! Is that true?”
Weilan put down his teacup, looking greatly alarmed:
“Who told you that?”
“Neville,” Fred said, “He heard it from his parents—they sent him a letter yesterday.”
The Longbottoms… Aurors…
Alright.
Weilan didn’t really want to publicize what he had encountered in the Forbidden Forest.
But George and Fred clearly didn’t grant his wish.
George said that ever since everyone found out Weilan used canary creams to deal with enemies in the Forbidden Forest, their canary cream sales had tripled.
Fred said they were going to Hogsmeade to expand their raw material procurement.
Weilan didn’t feel much about it; perhaps it was because every time he went out these past few days, he received a large number of admiring glances. He had long since selectively ignored such gazes from passersby.
Neville, holding a jar of sweets, sat next to Weilan and joined their conversation.
“Do you want some Fizzing Whizbees? My mom sent me a big jar.”
“Thanks!”
They opened the glass jar, and each took a honey-coated popping candy from inside.
“How are your parents’ jobs? Haven’t their Christmas holidays started yet?”
Feeling the Fizzing Whizbees gently explode on his tongue, Weilan thought that this was a specialty of Honeydukes.
So, Neville’s mother must still be near Hogwarts.
“No,” Neville shook his round face, “They said they’ll come home for the holidays once they solve the case they’re working on and bring peace to the deceased boy.”
“What about the juries?”
Weilan remembered Christmas as a holiday as grand as the Spring Festival. At this time, Britain would be on holiday nationwide.
“Mom said the Ministry of Magic has a special channel for urgent major cases. They can establish an emergency case trial court then, and it will definitely resolve this incident.”
As Neville spoke, he frequently looked towards Hogsmeade through the window, which was covered in a layer of white mist.
He surely wished for the Longbottoms to get their holiday early too.
Christmas was approaching day by day, and the moving suits of armor could now sing entire Christmas carols in unison and fluently.
The Christmas trees in the Great Hall were gradually adorned with decorations such as chirping golden owls, never-melting icicles, and living fairy lights.
Two days before Christmas, Weilan once again received a letter from the Aurors.
“What did they tell you?”
Ron was busy stuffing his mouth with chicken legs dipped in mashed potatoes.
“The trial of Mrs. Crouch is about to resume.”
Weilan chewed on the chicken pieces on his plate while browsing the contents of the letter.
“They found the primary crime scene and collected evidence.”
“However, they are afraid of losing again to the sophistry of Mrs. Crouch’s gold-star legal team.”
“So, they hope I can attend this trial—Mr. Carson will pick me up tomorrow.”
Ron, his mouth full of food, gestured eagerly with his hands and feet to Weilan: “But, the day after tomorrow is Christmas!”
“Yes! It starts tomorrow and ends tomorrow, so everyone can have a pleasant and comfortable Christmas.”
Weilan replied to him.
The next day arrived quickly, and Carson visited as scheduled.
Weilan agreed to attend the Ministry of Magic trial with Carson.
According to Carson, Weilan didn’t need to do too much. He only needed to reasonably use the evidence in his hand to break through the lawyers’ sophistry when they tried to clear Mrs. Crouch of her guilt.
If Weilan was unable to do so, the Aurors would not blame him much.
The Aurors had already informed the Professor and Dumbledore, so Carson easily led Weilan out of Hogwarts.
“Should I Apparate with you, or should we use Floo powder together?”
Carson politely asked Weilan for his opinion.
“You can Apparate with me; it will be more convenient.”
Carson nodded and took Weilan’s hand:
“Take a deep breath. If this is your first time experiencing Apparition, then dizziness is very normal.”
Carson took Weilan and cast the Apparition spell.
Instantly, Weilan felt as if he was forcibly squeezed into an extremely narrow and long pipe.
He was breathless and barely opened his eyes, but could only see a blurred landscape stretched infinitely.
A few seconds later, the narrow pipe Weilan had entered finally came to an end.
The feeling of suffocation disappeared, and Weilan gasped for fresh air.
They were now on a bleak street in London, in front of a dilapidated red telephone booth.
Weilan recognized this place; this was the entrance to the Ministry of Magic!
He squeezed into the telephone booth with Carson with a bit of anticipation, watching Carson dial the numbers one by one.
“I cannot Apparate you directly into the Ministry of Magic Atrium.”
Carson explained while dialing:
“As an outside guest, you need to be reported.”
The dial returned to its original position, and a woman’s voice rang out in the telephone booth:
“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and purpose of visit.”
“Ruben Carson, Auror Headquarters, accompanying Weilan Costa. We are both attending the emergency major case trial against Mrs. Crouch today.”
“Alright,” the woman’s cold voice said, “Guest, please take a badge and pin it to the front of your clothes.”
Ding-a-ling, clatter, a square silver badge slid out from the metal chute.
Carson handed the badge, which read “Weilan Costa, Attending Trial,” to Weilan.
The woman’s voice sounded again:
“Guest of the Ministry of Magic, you need to undergo inspection at the security desk and register your wand. The security desk is located at the end of the main hall.”
