Chapter 115: The Team Everyone Had Hoped For

A dazzling green flame illuminated the entire train carriage.

Alongside the fire came a comical scream—

“Ahhhhh! It’s always like this! Spinning and spinning and spinning nonstop...”

A slightly plump man with a quirky little mustache suddenly whirled out of the fireplace, crashing straight into Newt, who stood in the middle of the carriage.

The chubby man opened his eyes nervously, glanced at Newt, then happily patted him on the back, breaking into a joyous smile.

“Oh, Newt, my good brother!” the plump man exclaimed excitedly. “I’m so glad to see you!”

“I’m glad to see you too, Jacob,” Newt replied warmly, embracing the man with a smile.

After Jacob's peculiar entrance through the fireplace, a graceful Black witch stepped out with effortless poise.

Thévenin had seen this witch before in Lemée’s Phoenix Phylactery book. Her name was Eulalie Hicks, a prodigious professor of Charms and Keeper of the Keys at the Ifemani School of Magic. Ten years ago, it was Professor Hicks who had communicated with Lemée through the Phoenix Phylactery book.

She had urged Lemée to aid Newt in saving Paris. It was precisely due to her persuasion that Lemée, who had not intervened personally in two centuries, resolved to journey to Père Lachaise Cemetery and lead a group of wizards to extinguish the devastating flames unleashed by Grindelwald.

Silent as he recalled Professor Hicks’s background, Thévenin turned his gaze back to the intriguing plump man, Jacob.

Thévenin casually scrutinized Jacob, then widened his eyes in surprise—he sensed no magical power emanating from him at all!

“Wait a moment. I think I need to ask—does this Mr. Jacob possess some unique way of concealing his magic?” Thévenin interrupted the polite chatter, his voice laced with doubt.

Hearing the question, the group exchanged bewildered looks.

Finally, Newt stepped forward softly, “In fact, Jacob is a Muggle, Mr. Strange.”

“A Muggle? Joining our team against Grindelwald?” Thévenin exclaimed.

He could not fathom how a Muggle’s involvement would benefit their fight. Jacob’s presence might distract them as they tried to keep him safe, weakening their combat strength; worse still, the Muggle might be unable to protect himself amid the wizarding chaos and fall needlessly.

With rising intensity, Thévenin said, “We simply cannot guarantee his safety! It’s irresponsible to both our team and to this Muggle’s life!”

“Mr. Strange, Mr. Kowalski’s inclusion was arranged by Dumbledore,” Professor Hicks approached and said calmly to Thévenin.

“Why would Dumbledore make such an irrational decision?” Thévenin, slightly calmer but still frowning, questioned.

“Um, Mr. Ghost, you’re Mr. Strange, right?” Jacob cleared his throat and forced a smile at Thévenin. “First, I appreciate your concern. But this mission is closely tied to me. My beloved, Queenie, has been swayed by Grindelwald’s influence. I must bring her back.”

“So, joining your team is my willing choice—even if it means dying amidst wizards’ battles, I accept that!” Jacob said earnestly. “Of course, if I can offer even a tiny bit of help to your cause, that would be wonderful.”

“You really don’t have to do this…” Thévenin stared blankly at this powerless Muggle, unsure what to say.

“Mr. Strange, perhaps you’ve forgotten Dumbledore’s words to each of us,” Newt said seriously, looking at Thévenin. “No matter what task Dumbledore assigns, we must trust him unconditionally, even if his decisions defy our instincts or go against our principles.”

Newt’s words stunned Thévenin.

He glanced around, meeting the resolute eyes of those assembled, realizing their faith in Dumbledore ran far deeper than he had imagined.

Thévenin took a deep breath and slowly nodded.

“In that case, this is starting to feel like a real team,” a faint smile curved his lips.

…

After their introductions, the group had grown somewhat familiar, and the atmosphere in the carriage gradually brightened.

During this time, Newt retrieved several items from his suitcase—objects Dumbledore had asked him to deliver to members of various teams.

These included a door key each for Theseus and Professor Hicks, both exchanging knowing looks; a note for Newt’s assistant, Bondi Brodack, who nervously read it before it self-ignited; and Yosef Kama, who refused any physical item but solemnly affirmed he knew what to do.

As Thévenin watched with interest, Newt approached him and handed over a slip of paper.

“Mr. Strange, this is from Dumbledore,” Newt said, unfolding it and holding it before Thévenin’s face.

“Um, thanks. But this really isn’t necessary,” Thévenin’s lips twitched as he looked at the paper.

He waved his hand, and the note floated over, hovering before his eyes.

After reading it, Thévenin was utterly bewildered…

“Do what you think needs to be done!” the note bore a bold, elegant, and somewhat refined script.

Thévenin felt the message was incomplete and tried to flip the note over for more, but it was already consumed by flames.

Looking at the others’ expressions—some confident, some serene, others uneasy—clearly, each understood their own mission. Thévenin pondered his own task and felt a wave of existential doubt.

“Oh, by the way,” after giving Thévenin the note, Newt pulled a finely crafted, curved wand from his pocket and handed it to Jacob.

“Dumbledore asked me to give this to you, Jacob,” Newt said with a smile. “Made of snakewood, but of course, it has no core.”

Jacob seemed incredulous, pointing at himself with a finger, “Are you joking?”

Newt said nothing, simply insisting the wand be accepted.

Jacob carefully cradled the wand, examining it over and over.

“Wow! This is unbelievable!” he kept exclaiming.

…

Unnoticed, the train had left the suburbs and entered the city, gradually slowing down.

“Looks like everyone knows their mission now, right?” Theseus clapped his hands and asked.

Everyone nodded, except Thévenin, who remained puzzled.

Just as he was about to ask about his own task, Newt shot him a warning glance.

“Just follow Dumbledore’s instructions, Mr. Strange,” Newt said.

“But…” Thévenin opened his mouth, then thought of Dumbledore’s ‘plan without a plan’ and fell silent, choosing to wait and see.

Theseus glanced at the varied expressions and chuckled, “Well then, here we are—the team entrusted with defeating the greatest Dark Wizard of modern history.”

“A magizoologist, his assistant, a wizard with an ancient family heritage, a school professor…”

“And… a ghost, and a Muggle!” Theseus looked at Thévenin and Jacob with a smile.

“We really are the team everyone’s been waiting for!”

…

…