New divination teacher? Matthew was taken aback.

To be honest, he didn’t know much about the subject of Divination.

After all, first and second-year students at Hogwarts rarely encountered this subject.

Moreover, Divination teachers were typically mysterious and avoided school gatherings.

Matthew had no knowledge of the previous Divination professors.

He perked up his ears, eavesdropping on the conversation among the senior Hufflepuff students.

“Who do you think these new teachers will be?” the shorter student inquired.

“I don’t have information on the new Transfiguration teacher yet,” the freckled student, who seemed privy to some inside knowledge, stated confidently. “However, the new Potions teacher is Hector Dagworth-Granger, the founder of the Extraordinary Pharmacists Association and a potion expert specially recruited by Professor Grindelwald…”

“…As for the new Divination professor, it’s none other than the renowned Seer Cassandra Trelawney. Rumor has it that President Grindelwald had a close relationship with her when she was younger… All in all, they are all famous individuals!”

Cassandra Trelawney!

The name wasn’t unfamiliar to Matthew.

As the freckled student had mentioned, she was a renowned Seer.

In another timeline, she was closely related to Sybil Trelawney, the Divination teacher at Hogwarts, as her close family member.

Cassandra possessed a talent for making several significant prophecies.

The idea of having a true Seer like her teaching at Hogwarts seemed remarkably talented.

After all, divination was a gift based on innate talent; a wizard without the “second sight” couldn’t learn it no matter how hard they tried.

Matthew wondered if Grindelwald had another purpose in mind.

As Matthew contemplated these thoughts, the Hufflepuff boys seemed satisfied with their new robes and left the shop.

“Your fitting is complete, dear,” Mrs. Malkin informed Matthew not long after.

Matthew nodded absently and stepped off the footstool.

…

The new school robes hadn’t cost him a single Knut, leaving him with a sense of loss because he hadn’t purchased a set of clothes during the summer vacation before his second year.

With several large and oddly-shaped bags in tow, Matthew strolled down the streets of Diagon Alley.

As the sun steadily climbed higher, the number of pedestrians on the street increased.

However, Matthew couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

He had spent the entire summer here last year and knew the alley like the back of his hand.

Several familiar shops remained closed or hadn’t yet opened.

The Terror Tours which took no responsibility for accidental deaths or personal injuries, and the Zonko Joke Shop, which exclusively sold “Struggling Fireworks”

Frankly, Matthew didn’t care much about the first two, but the Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor was held different meaning for Matthew.

Last summer, Matthew had enjoyed reading books while savoring ice cream under the colorful sunshade there.

But now, the sunshade was askew, its colors had faded, the shop’s door was tightly closed with hardly any gap, and no one seemed to be inside.

Matthew frowned slightly and hurried across the street to the bookstore.

“Excuse me,” he addressed the bookstore owner, “what happened to the Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor across the street? Is it closed or has it moved?”

The bookstore owner’s expression changed abruptly.

Looking around cautiously, he then whispered, “Florean has been apprehended and sent to Azkaban… There are rumors of his involvement with dark wizards… Don’t inquire too deeply into this matter; it might hasten your own troubles…”

With that, he waved Matthew away, ushering him out of the shop.

“Azkaban again…” Matthew muttered to himself.

There seemed to be no connection between Mr. Florean and the Order of the Phoenix in his memory.

He didn’t feel inclined to ask more questions. Instead, he found a discreet spot with a good vantage point and placed all his packages on the ground, waiting…

Because he had arranged to meet Hermione and Neville there.

…

Matthew didn’t have to wait long before Hermion and Neville arrived together.

Seeing the closed door of the Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor they were both appeared surprised.

Matthew called out their names before they noticed him.

“What’s going on?” Hermione asked in a hushed voice, glancing at the parlor.

“Mr. Florean is rumored to have been arrested and sent to Azkaban… Allegations of connections with dark wizards,” Matthew replied, shrugging with a touch of irony.

“It’s those dark wizards again…” Neville grumbled, his face clouded. “It seems like a recurring theme…”

“Let’s find a quieter place to talk first,” Matthew suggested, picking up the packages from the ground.

Hermione and Neville each took a few bags.

They left the bustling street and found a relatively secluded tea shop.

The three of them sat at a small round table in a corner.

“Matthew, how have you been?” Neville asked with genuine concern.

“Not bad,” Matthew replied casually, simultaneously inquiring, “How have things been in the outside world lately?”

To be honest, after working as a temporary clerk at Honeydukes for over a month, Matthew’s awareness of current events in the wizarding world was nearly non-existent.

After all, customers came to the candy store for sweets, not for conversations about current affairs.

He would occasionally hear snippets of news when enjoying butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks in the evenings, but lately, such discussions had become increasingly scarce.

It seemed that most wizards outside preferred not to talk about current events.

Matthew didn’t mind, as it wouldn’t have much impact even if he were informed about these matters.

He believed that Neville and Hermione had been actively seeking news everywhere.

“It’s grim,” Neville sighed. Speaking in hushed tones so as not to be overheard, he continued, “Pius Thicknesse is now the Minister for Magic, but many believe he’s just a puppet, with someone else pulling the strings behind the scenes…”

“Moreover, they’re attempting to amend the International Statute of Secrecy. It won’t be long now…” Neville went on in a whisper.