Mid-late August.
Although autumn has not yet arrived, the sudden and drizzling rain that suddenly came brought the chill of early autumn, allowing the villagers of St. Kachetow to experience the biting cold of late autumn early.
What the eye can see, the sky is shrouded in mist.
In front of an old wry-necked catalpa tree at the east of the village, a twisted three-story wooden house stands. Yanwen stands at the doorway, looking worriedly in the direction of White Weasel Mountain.
During the spring and summer, the lush green grass swaying in the wind over the mountains can always make people feel refreshed and happy if looked at for a long time.
In the rain curtain, the small grasses occupying the wild landscape appeared dark and suffocating, and their bent bodies, pressed by the rain, evoked a sense of oppression.
Yanwen's rigid gaze shifted, landing on a patch of rice fields at the foot of the mountain, which were also looking listless in the autumn rain, adding to her melancholy expression.
One after another, dark clouds, accompanied by fierce winds, fluttered over Yanwen's head. Even the old catalpa tree in front of the door was shaking wildly.
However, Yanwen remained unmoved, only looking anxiously at the rice fields at the foot of the mountain until --
Suddenly, the pungent smell of burning caused Yanwen's face to change greatly, which looked as if it had been smoked and roasted. She turned around and rushed towards the kitchen in a hurry.
"Ouch!"
The panic made Yanwen's mind somewhat unclear. She reached out directly to pick up the fiery hot iron pot that had been scorched, only to be severely burned by the handle.
In a hurry, Yanwen's eyes were careless. By chance, she saw an old wand with feathers peeking out from the window shelf on the stove. It was covered in thick layers of dust.
Without thinking, Yanwen picked up the 'wand' and waved it --
Bang!
In a loud explosion, the heavy lid was lifted up into the sky and deeply embedded in the ceiling of the first floor. Meanwhile, the stew pot in front of her with burnt smell flipped over onto the stove and poured onto the flame, sizzling.
"What are you doing, Yanwen?"
A man with soaking wet hair and clothes emerged from the fireplace in the wall.
The messy stove made the dark-skinned middle-aged man, with extraordinarily thick finger joints, pause in shock for a moment.
But as the man regained his senses, he strode towards the stove, picked up a piece of rag with his hand, and supported the fallen iron pot to save the remaining stewed potatoes.
The man shook the pot and, with the faint light, examined the bottom of the pot, which was blackened. His brow furrowed.
"I was careless --"
Yanwen looked ashamed.
"I was just about to use the wand to lift down the pot. Sorry, John. I think I've messed up our lunch --"
"It's not a big deal --"
John took a deep breath and then smiled at Yanwen.
"The remaining is enough for us to eat."
Noticing the lid embedded in the roof, John said again
"I have some free time this afternoon. It's a perfect opportunity to fix the second floor's floor and that damned roof!"
Yanwen nodded gently, picked up the wand again and threw it back onto the window shelf, wiped her hands on the stained apron,
"Sit for a while. I'll have it cleaned up soon --"
John nodded. He pulled out a pipe with the bristles of hard calluses worn down by his large hands from the pocket of his loose pants, took a few puffs, and the pipe sent out a cloud of smoke.
Walking to the door, looking out at the world shrouded in rain and wind, John's black face also showed a touch of melancholy as his gaze fixed on the land below White Weasel Mountain.
"Oh, Bonna, is she upstairs?"
John turned back to look at his busy wife in the kitchen.
"Early in the morning when it wasn't raining, she went up to the hill to play with Lovgood's child. Bonna likes that child very much."
"Luna?"
John pondered for a moment, puzzledly asking,
"But isn't that child attending Hogwarts?"
"Now it's the summer holiday, John --"
Yanwen said that she noticed the worry in her husband's eyes, and remained silent for a moment.
"Lovgood father and daughter are both good people, John. They will treat Bonna to lunch, and besides, they won't look down on us either. "
The last few words of Yanwen were barely audible, but John knew what his wife was saying. A shadow passed across his eyes, and he raised his voice, speaking with a frown,
"Not necessarily. You know, Bonna is only six years old. She still has a chance!"
"Oh, of course, I think so too!"
Yanwen quickly replied.
In the gloomy room, the two people fell silent.
Yanwen placed the not-so-attractive lunch on the table. John washed his hands with the rain dripping from the eaves, dried them carelessly on his apron, and sat down at the table.
The 'rich' stew was too overpowering, tasting only of salt and bitterness. The terrible taste was met with silence with each bite.
Both of them had no appetite for lunch.
After quickly filling her stomach, Yanwen went to the stove and boiled water for her husband to make a cup of tea.
But John didn't notice all this; he was silent, watching as White Weasel Mountain, growing larger in the heavy rain, became a vast shadow.
Looking at her husband's appearance, Yanwen pursed her lips, and her already cloudy eyes became even more obscure. She knew what was going on in her heart.
"I'm sorry, the workshop can't start yet."
John said in a voice that was more of a murmur.
"How could that be?"
Although she asked so, there was no surprise in Yanwen's tone.
"There was nothing about it in The Daily Prophet. It said that the duel between Mr. Brenner and the Mystic hasn't affected Diagon Alley."
"That has nothing to do with it!"
John suddenly emphasized his words, his thick fingers hammering the table in a quick rhythm,
"It's Greengrass's fault. The Ministry of Magic has issued an arrest warrant for him, saying he's a Death Eater of the Mystic and has been involved in the war in Diagon Alley!"
The anxiety reflected in Yanwen's eyes revealed that she was truly becoming anxious,
"But what does this have to do with the workshop, does that mean!"
Yanwen's voice became sharp,
"Just because the Ministry of Magic thinks that Mr. Greengrass is a Death Eater, they shut down the broomstick workshop?"
"Not the Ministry of Magic!"
John didn't want to tell his wife about things that would only add to her worries, but he couldn't help but feel angry,
"Greengrass family themselves shut down the workshop"
A representative of the Greengrass family came out to explain that the Ministry of Magic's wanted notice had severely damaged the reputation of Greengrass and the workshop. Many orders had been canceled, and the workshop couldn't continue to operate. It would have to shut down indefinitely and a notice for resumption of work would be issued separately!
John gritted his teeth, his fists clenched so tightly that they made a cracking sound.
"It's not just the broomstick workshop, but also the two young men working for Charle's family in the kiln workshop. The manager gave the same reason for closing down that particular industrial area. Only the Learning Machinery Workshop is completely unaffected!"
Although Yanwen was aware of the severity of the situation, her husband's words still filled her with fear.
"That... that."
Yanwen looked at her husband, whose eyes were blazing with anger, and she stammered, unable to speak.
Clang!
"The Ministry will give us an explanation!"
John suddenly slammed the table, saying with finality.
"The Ministry?"
Yanwen was confused.
"But you said --"
"We can't find those noble pureblood gentlemen --"
John's face was as hard as iron.
John's face was as hard as iron.
"We can only find the Ministry of Magic, oh, I don't care about what kind of power or evil, no matter who is the Minister for Magic, whether it's Brenner or the Mystic. I don't care. I just want to live a good life. But since it's the Ministry that started this war and made our workshop unable to operate, they must take full responsibility. Let me tell you, Yanwen, we are planning --"
"What are you planning?"
Yanwen grasped John's rough, large hand, and tears welled up in her eyes.
"You... do you mean to stand against the Ministry and Mr. Brenner? John, this -- this is too dangerous! You can't be serious!"
