Saruman

The classroom erupted into chaos as a deafening explosion shook the walls. Dust and debris flew through the air, and a cacophony of panicked voices filled the room. The young wizards scrambled, their wands drawn and their faces etched with fear.

Nagini, her composure quickly returning, cast a protective shield over her students, her wand movements precise despite the shock. She scanned the room for the source of the disturbance.

"Stay calm! Stay where you are!" Nagini's voice cut through the commotion. Her eyes narrowed as she saw a gaping hole in the wall, smoke billowing out from the adjacent corridor.

Artel, who had been standing near the back of the room, quickly assessed the situation. His instincts told him to move towards the source of the blast, but he stopped himself, knowing he had to ensure the safety of his fellow students first.

"Everyone, follow me to the back of the room!" Artel commanded, his voice steady and authoritative. He guided the students away from the debris and towards a safer corner.

Hermione, her face pale but determined, was already assisting other students, making sure they were accounted for and unharmed. She glanced at Artel with a nod of gratitude, knowing they needed to keep their heads together in such emergencies.

Meanwhile, Nagini had moved to the door, her expression grim as she prepared to investigate the explosion. "I'm going to check what happened. Stay here and wait for further instructions!"

As she stepped into the corridor, the scene outside was chaotic. The blast had left a sizable crater in the hallway, and several students from other classes were milling about, their faces filled with confusion and concern. The hallway was filled with the acrid smell of smoke and the occasional burst of flame.

"Professor, are you alright?" a voice called out. It was Professor Flitwick, who had arrived with a team of other teachers to help manage the crisis. 

Nagini quickly briefed him on what had happened in her classroom. "It appears someone used a spell far beyond their control. We need to find out who and ensure no one else is injured."

Flitwick nodded, his face serious. "I'll take care of the situation here. You should return to your students and make sure they're safe."

Nagini nodded, hurrying back to the classroom. When she returned, she found Artel and Hermione effectively managing the students, their calmness helping to diffuse the panic.

"Is everyone alright?" Nagini asked, her gaze sweeping over the students.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione assured her, though her expression was still one of concern. "We managed to keep everyone away from the debris."

Nagini sighed in relief. "Good. We'll need to have a discussion about what just happened. For now, let's get everyone out of the classroom and into a safer location. We'll resume our lessons once we've sorted this out."

As the students were carefully guided out of the classroom, Artel glanced back at the damaged area. He had a sinking feeling that this incident might be more than just a random accident. The explosion's timing and intensity seemed deliberate, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something more sinister was afoot.

Nagini snapped back to reality to find Seamus Finnigan sitting beside Ron, staring bewilderedly at his wand. His face was covered in soot, his hair askew, and smoke billowed around him. Their table was in disarray, with experiment mice scattered in mid-air and scorch marks marring the surfaces.

Nagini sighed. Seamus was known for his magical mishaps. Rumor had it he could turn any spell into an explosion. Professor Flitwick had once complained that Seamus could make even a levitation charm explode. Then there was the time when Professor McGonagall had asked him to transfigure a slug into a button, only for Seamus to turn it into a gooey mess that even Neville had ended up covered in.

Checking on Seamus, Nagini found him unharmed, which was a relief. 

"Clean up!" she instructed, her tone firm but concerned.

After making sure Seamus was settled and sending him off to rest, Nagini turned her attention back to the class. Artel had taken on the role of an assistant teacher, helping out many of the Slytherin students. His efforts earned him ten points from Nagini, who was pleased with his support.

As the class came to a close amidst the lively atmosphere of practice, students began to file out. Hermione made a beeline for the library, while Artel headed toward the Room of Requirement. After a five-day rest, his mental strength and magical power had fully recovered.

The potent orc potion was still on his mind. With a growing number of werewolf descendants, every vial of potion brewed would significantly bolster his forces.

This week, discussions about Saruman and Gandalf in the wizarding world had reached a fever pitch. The International Federation of Wizards had received nearly a hundred reports concerning Saruman, all of which had been proven false.

Additionally, the Ministry of Magic in London had been inundated with letters from nine wizards claiming to be descendants of Gandalf. They demanded that Dumbledore return the copyright of the Aria of Light magic and proposed charging major wizarding hospitals for its use.

The International Confederation of Wizards and various Ministries of Magic had intervened, leading to significant losses for the "Holy White Council" organization. Many of the chaotic black wizards had been wiped out, but some surviving elites had joined forces and were now hiding in the shadows, waiting for Saruman's return.

Dumbledore had been tirelessly sifting through information collected by the Order of the Phoenix from across the globe. The lack of solid leads was disheartening. Despite years of meticulous research, there was still no concrete evidence confirming Gandalf's existence. Most of what had been gathered appeared to be cleverly forged by wizards with hidden agendas. The one person who could definitively verify Gandalf's existence was Saruman.

As for the Maia, the Holy White Council, and the elusive valley, clues remained as elusive as ever. Initially, Dumbledore had thought the search was too narrow, but even after expanding the scope from England to the broader European continent and eventually to North America following the New York incident, the results were dismal. They couldn't even find traces of the magical races mentioned in old diaries—hobbits, elves, and dwarves.

"But Gollum was indeed a hobbit..." Dumbledore mused, a shadow of doubt crossing his face. 

"I'm afraid Saruman was right. To the Maia, we wizards are just another 'Muggle.' There's an entire world beyond our understanding."

Feeling a pang of discomfort, Dumbledore walked to the window and gazed out at the darkening Forbidden Forest. The idea of consulting Shelob, a creature of ancient malevolence and descendant of evil spirits, crossed his mind.

"Perhaps... talking to Shelob might shed some light."

After discovering the third parchment from Quirrell's office, Dumbledore learned about Shelob's origins and her nature as an immortal being tied to dark powers. 

"Or maybe I can glean some truth from her perspective," he thought, the sense of urgency growing.

With these thoughts, Dumbledore left his office, determined to seek out Shelob and uncover any fragment of truth about Sauron and his weaknesses.

Meanwhile, Artel had returned to his bedroom after dinner. He pulled out "The Lord of the Rings" and began reading, reflecting on the recent discussions about Saruman and the public uproar. The absence of Saruman amid the widespread condemnation had fueled various rumors. Some believed Saruman had been grievously injured during the New York attack, akin to the headmaster of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, while others speculated that Saruman might even be dead.

Artel knew that making a public appearance could dispel these illusions and show what true despair looked like.

The tension between the real and imagined was palpable. Artel knew he needed to act decisively to maintain his influence and quell the growing misconceptions. The world of magic was shifting, and he had to navigate it carefully to assert his position and dispel any doubts about his role in the grand scheme of things.

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