"Stop your false reports. I'm very busy lately, don't waste my time," Howl said again, "If you want to bet whether I'll kill you, you're welcome to try."
Subsequently, only heavy breathing and low whimpers remained in the office.
"Don't wait, your cries won't be heard outside, and the Ministry of Magic Aurors won't come here," Howl finally spoke after a moment, interrupting her fantasy.
This woman seemed to have a 'not seeing the coffin, not shedding tears' attitude, constantly stalling for time.
"I still have one question now." Howl looked at her.
She finally faced reality; outside, it was silent. Out of the corner of her eye, she could only see snowflakes frozen in the sky outside the window, and the bustling sounds had not penetrated inside.
Then she gritted her teeth, enduring the intense pain, "You… please speak, Mr. Jon… Jones!"
"I want to know how you knew about the events from two years ago," Howl slowly began, "I imagine Scrimgeour wouldn't have dared to tell you."
He had thought this matter was over more than once, but he hadn't expected it to be brought up every year.
His words were unhurried, but they struck Skeeter like a bolt from the blue.
"Wait… what?" She looked up in disbelief, her elaborate hairstyle and makeup now a mess.
That case from two years ago… was it really?!
And Scrimgeour, the Head of the Auror Office—was he also connected to Howl Jenkins?!
"You're not going to tell me you just guessed the two-year-old case was related to me, are you?" Howl chuckled slightly, "Let me tell you, the Ministry of Magic also arrested me for that reason last year."
"Wait?! No… I didn't know, I just guessed—a reasonable guess! I'm a journalist, that was just a means to pique readers' interest—I absolutely didn't know that was your doing, otherwise, how would I dare—"
"You even dared to write about Dumbledore and the savior, what wouldn't you dare?" Howl shook his head with a helpless, bitter smile.
It seemed these small tricks weren't enough to intimidate this woman.
Indeed, after all, she had a certain standing in the Wizarding World, a character who navigated various dangerous topics. If she hadn't been quick-witted, she would have probably gotten herself killed long ago.
Thinking this, he raised his hand, and it transformed into a giant claw, interweaving blue and purple like the backdrop of the aurora borealis, reaching towards her.
"No—it really wasn't me—"
Boom—
The giant claw suddenly clenched into a fist, and Howl's expression became surprised and serious.
He withdrew his fisted claw, only to see a beetle lying in his palm.
Suddenly, a flash of insight burst in his mind, connecting everything.
He turned his palm over, and the beetle weakly fell to the ground.
The next moment, the entire person vanished, and airflow swirled in the sealed office, manuscripts flying through the air, then falling to the ground like autumn leaves.
In the office, on the floor, the beetle quickly reverted to human form. She hurriedly scrambled to her feet, checking herself all over.
However—she found nothing. The pain from hitting the wall, as if her bones would break, and the bloody hole on her body, all seemed like a dream.
The only things in the office that could prove what had just happened were the scattered manuscripts on the floor and the overturned ink bottle.
A knock sounded at the door, and a somewhat anxious inquiry suddenly came from outside.
"Ms. Skeeter, are you alright? We heard some sounds inside."
No, not at all.
However, she dared not say it. Her emotions adjusted quickly; she already knew she had inadvertently provoked someone she shouldn't have.
And this was just a warning.
Perhaps the only warning, she wasn't sure, but she absolutely dared not gamble.
That fellow, while connected to Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic, acted completely free from their restraints… After a moment of thought, she quickly responded—
"Woof woof!"
?!
Skeeter immediately clapped her hand over her mouth in horror.
"What happened? Ms. Skeeter, did a stray dog get into the room?" The anxious voice from outside quickly asked.
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