Hogwarts: Even Voldemort Can't Stop Me From Studying

Chapter 1095: Chapter 182: Homeless

"Why didn’t you hand me over to that person just now?" Abigail asked, "He’s your subordinate, right? You should know that by capturing me, you would get a lot of Scourers’ intel."

"Scourers’ intel?" Braun smiled ambiguously and said, "No, that’s unnecessary."

Abigail didn’t understand, but she didn’t want to talk more with this person.

"If your Witch Pure Party doesn’t intend to arrest me," she said with a distant gaze, her voice flat, "then I should leave."

Though her body was still weak, Abigail turned and walked away.

"Leave?" Braun’s voice sounded behind her, calmly asking, "Miss Abigail, where can you go?"

Abigail’s steps abruptly halted, her back rigid.

Indeed, where could she go? Back to the Scourers? She feared it could no longer accommodate her.

Back to the Magic World? She felt a deep resentment towards that possibility.

After a brief hesitation, Abigail said, "I want to go back to New York."

"Oh?" Braun asked, "To find those companions who sold you out, to keep serving them? This loyalty is really touching... I’m almost moved to tears by you!"

His sarcastic tone showed how skilled he was at driving a knife into others’ hearts.

Abigail didn’t retort, she simply said expressionlessly:

"My companions... not everyone is a heartless bastard! They need to know Bloren’s true colors! Otherwise, today I’m the one being sold out, tomorrow it could be someone else!"

Even if she couldn’t fight against Bloren’s forces, at least... she wanted to take her own students away, they shouldn’t be mired in hatred like her, becoming tools for others to use.

Applause came from behind.

"Very admirable, Miss Abigail, but unfortunately..."

Bloren smiled, but the words he spoke were especially cruel:

"You still have nowhere to go."

Abigail frowned, about to speak, when a folded newspaper was casually tossed into her lap by Braun.

"Have a good look. This is a major event that happened while you and that Vampire were on your way to Washington!"

Abigail glanced down, her vision strikingly shaken—

The newspaper’s headline featured the emblem of the Magic Congress and a large photo—the secret base of the Scourers she once lived in, now turned into ruins with Aurors busy at the scene.

In the corner was Laira Piqueley standing imposingly.

"The very day after your group left the base, the headquarters was uprooted by the Magic Congress."

Braun said, "Except for Bloren who slipped away beforehand, everyone else, including those you knew, has already been captured."

He looking at her face turn pale and her shoulders slightly tremble, added:

"Congratulations, Miss Abigail."

"Now, you’re not only a traitor to the Scourers, in the official records, you’re very likely an ’escaped’ Scourer remnant. I bet your mugshot is now plastered on the walls of Echo Alley."

"The moment you show up in New York, countless Aurors will rain down, giving you an unprecedentedly warm welcome!"

Abigail stood frozen in place, her trembling fingers brushed over that familiar ruination in the photo, quickly scanning the contents behind it, her pupils narrowing in shock.

"How could this be..." she murmured incredulously.

The second page of the newspaper presented a lengthy profile on the escapee Scourer leader Bloren, only a slightly blurred photo of him visible.

The third page featured Stern and other escaped members, including Abigail and Glanwhite, along with some members from other bases.

Under the methods of the Magic Congress, no one could keep secrets, Abigail wasn’t surprised to see her name there.

But immediately after, her fingers trembled once again.

She saw the student who had seen her off upon her departure, looking forward to her early return.

A bewildered young girl was held close by Laira Piqueley, her face full of panic, her eyes wide open, like a lone deer stranded on a vast wilderness.

Abigail’s heart tightened as she read the words one by one:

[Iron Hand of Justice and a Kind Heart—Magic Congress action commander Laira Piqueley led the team to crush the Scourer nest, rescuing misguided young souls.

...It is reported that these young people are aged between six and eighteen, mostly from Dud families or marginalized groups with an estranged feeling towards the Magic Society.

They were lured by the Scourers with false promises of "providing a sense of belonging" and "creating a purer world," subjected to long-term mental control and harsh training.]

"...No," Abigail thought, "Most of us came from families ruined by Wizards!"

[The victims too, are the most direct sacrifices of hateful ideology.]

At the scene, Ms. Picquery, confident in command was interviewed exclusively by the newspaper, her tone firm and sympathetic.

She emphasized that the duty of the Magic Congress is not just to punish evil, but to protect every wizard, especially those young ones most vulnerable to harm...

The Magic Congress will collaborate with Ilvermorny Magic School to help these rescued youths start a new life...

A senior member of the American Wizengamot commented: "Assistant Picquery demonstrated not just effective execution, but an admirable political demeanor. She understands that real victory isn’t in the number of enemies destroyed, but in how much future is secured."]

"Nice words!"

Abigail gritted her teeth, her body slightly trembling.

She knew Fontana was a good headmaster and Ilvermorny was a decent school. But precisely because she grew up in a Magic School, Abigail knew what American Wizards’ perception of the Scourers was.

This wasn’t something that could be changed by some grandiose words in the news or one or two professors’ attitudes.

Her student was a Scourer, in the eyes of Wizards, that was her original sin. Even if that child did nothing, she would definitely face exclusion, disgust, and oppression from those around her.

In that environment, even without worrying about food or clothing, every minute would be painful.

Braun observed the changing expressions on her face, then leisurely opened his mouth:

"If you’ve nowhere to go, why not find something to do. Like, join me in catching the escaped Bloren. Or perhaps, digging into Prometheus’s secrets."

Abigail looked up at him, her voice hoarse as she asked, "Do you know what I want?"

Braun smiled, "I can guess."

"As long as you can get something valuable enough, proposing to exchange for a few inconsequential kids besides yourself, those officials would be very happy to make that deal."

"Do you think... if not for wanting to establish a good image in public, would they happily take care of these troublesome kids?"

"When the dust has settled, even if you request to foster and care for your own kids as a relative, would the Magic Congress still refuse?"

"Of course, I assume... you probably can’t wait that long?"

A sliver of hopeful flame flickered in Abigail’s eyes, her heart wavered.

Instead of placing hope in others’ mercy, she certainly preferred to rely on her own abilities to bring back those children under the supervision of the Magic Congress.

Though she loathed this kind of transaction where lives and freedom are treated as bargaining chips, and she despised Braun’s casual manipulation of others’ destinies.

But... did she have another choice?

Abigail’s nails dug deeply into her palm, the pain keeping her slightly sober.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and when she opened them again, only calm and composure remained:

"What’s next?"

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