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by Little Merger

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66. A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

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Three years after graduating from Hogwarts, Felix entered the school again, only this time as a professor! What kind of sparks will come from the combination of Muggle wisdom and magic?

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A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts #Chapter 1: Felix Harp - Read A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts Chapter 1: Felix Harp Online - All Page - NOVEL NEXT

July 1992, London.

Within a grand building nestled in the heart of London's commercial district, skilled professionals bustled ceaselessly, their discussions mixing with the clatter of keyboards. Meanwhile, in a small makeshift conference room, a solemn conversation was taking place.

"Felix, have you truly made up your mind? Although you've been with the company for less than a year, I swear your talents have already gained the recognition of everyone here. If you stay, believe me, you will achieve greatness!" spoke a quintessential middle-aged British man. He wore a polished business suit, his neatly curled hair giving him a distinguished appearance.

Seated across from him was a young man of around twenty, strikingly handsome, with a pair of light blue eyes that left a lasting impression. At this moment, Felix smiled, "Boss, I've made up my mind."

The middle-aged man stared deeply into Felix's eyes for a while, witnessing his unwavering resolve. He sighed resignedly, "Very well, you win."

Felix's mild smile emerged as he stood up, picking up the suit jacket draped over his chair. He extended his hand to shake the hand of the middle-aged man who had also risen. The middle-aged man stepped closer, opened his arms, and embraced Felix tightly, murmuring softly, "Different paths for different folks, right? I believe we've lost a promising newcomer."

Felix blinked his light blue eyes, "We'll always encounter even better people."

Half an hour later, Felix packed his belongings and exited the building. As he approached the exit, he watched the flow of people on the street, filled with anticipation.

...

Carrying a small suitcase, Felix strolled down the street, occasionally pausing to step aside as vehicles zoomed by. Yet, he took keen interest in examining the different makes and models of cars.

"Antique cars, hmm~"

His steps were light and brisk, and the somewhat lengthy journey did not fatigue him; rather, it invigorated him.

After nearly an hour of walking, he finally arrived back at his temporary residence in the city, or one might say, his home.

The street scenery grew increasingly familiar, and Felix spotted more than one familiar face. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Murphy."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Harp."

After exchanging pleasantries with some familiar faces, Felix finally stood before his own front door.

He retrieved his key, unlocked the door.

Stepping inside, he closed the door.

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"Ah!" Felix let out a triumphant exclamation, shutting his eyes and spreading his arms wide. And in that very moment, the ordinary house seemed to come to life all at once.

The suitcase slipped from his grasp and floated, gliding over to the closet. The closet door swung open on its own, the dozen or so hanging clothes on the upper rack lifting slightly to make way for the comfortable placement of the suitcase.

Felix's suit and white shirt removed themselves, his tie twisted itself off from around his neck, hanging together on the closet's crossbar. There were three other exquisitely colored ties hanging there as well.

His belt loosened itself from his waist, and as he took a step forward, his trousers smoothly separated. Felix beckoned with his hand, and a blue silk robe swiftly flew out, draping itself around him, the buttons fastening themselves neatly.

With a gentle snap of his fingers, soft music filled the air. Still with his eyes closed, Felix waved his hands like a conductor, producing a tinkling sound from the kitchen. After a while, a cup of rich, steaming coffee floated before him, emitting warmth.

He lifted the cup, taking a sip to the accompaniment of the music, a thoroughly contented smile gracing his face.

...

Felix Harp, apart from being a recent ex-freelancer, is also an adult wizard.

He graduated from Hogwarts—the finest and only magical school in the British Isles.

Since the day Felix received that splendidly adorned owl post from the orphanage, a decade has flown by. In those ten years, he not only graduated from Hogwarts but also transformed from a young boy into a mature twenty-one-year-old man.

"Time flies by so quickly. It's been three years since I graduated," Felix mused while seated on the sofa.

He then muttered with a touch of melancholy, "And it's been 21 years since the journey began."

Indeed, beyond his status as a freelance professional and a discreet wizard, Felix harbors a most concealed secret: he's a time traveler.

Only the heavens know how surprised and exhilarated he was upon receiving that invitation letter from the wizarding world! The world of Harry Potter! The magic-filled escapades of the trio!

But alas, they were not of the same generation.

When he entered Hogwarts and naively inquired about Harry Potter's information, he learned that he was a whole nine years older than him. In other words, during his time at school, they wouldn't even cross paths.

Admittedly, Felix wasn't a "Potterhead" and was only vaguely familiar with the plot.

Vaguely familiar.

After all, he couldn't predict the future and had no way of knowing he would end up in the actual magical realm. If he could have foreseen it, he would've memorized every word!

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What truly brought him some insight into the plot was the rise of short videos later on, like certain snippets.

And it's precisely through these that he managed to piece together a rough storyline.

But remembering the details? That was simply wishful thinking.

Fortunately, what really interested him was the wondrous magic, the tangible, touchable magic world. And he had all of that.

Evening approached.

Felix sat at his desk, quietly perusing a magical tome, a cup of hot tea by his side.

The clock ticked away, irritatingly exacerbating his restlessness, disturbing his previously serene mind.

He was waiting for a letter.

An incredibly important letter!

As time flowed on, finally—outside the window, a soft "tap tap" sounded. An owl landed soundlessly on the windowsill, gently tapping the glass.

"At last!" Felix's heart raced in anticipation. His wand slid out, and with a gentle flourish, the window swung open, allowing the owl to glide in.

The owl circled overhead twice before dropping an envelope, landing on his desk, and absentmindedly pecking at its feathers.

Felix swiftly seized the envelope. On its back, a wax seal, a coat of arms, and a large letter "H" surrounded by an eagle, a lion, a badger, and a snake.

He unsealed the envelope and withdrew the letter. It read:

Dear Mr. Felix Harp,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for employment (Muggle Studies) has been accepted. An interview is scheduled for 21st July at 10 o'clock in the morning. Please be prepared in advance.

Also: Use Floo Powder to access the school (Location: Deputy Headmistress's office, Hogwarts). If you intend to use an alternative method, please inform us in advance.

Deputy Headmistress (Female) Minerva McGonagall

Felix couldn't help but punch the air, promptly downing the steamy cup of tea on his desk!

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He had been waiting for this day for three years.

Three years, truly a long time.

Felix Harp sat back in his chair, lost in thought, accompanied by the scent of tea, as if his memories were transported back to ten years ago.

Back then, he was still an ignorant 11-year-old, carrying dreams and aspirations, much like a newcomer striving to make a living in the city.

Felix admitted to having great ambition. Anyone with mature thoughts and foreknowledge of certain events wouldn't lack the desire to achieve something meaningful. Consequently, he found himself sorted into Slytherin House as a matter of course.

However, this house, whose keywords were ambition, lineage, and honor, wasn't particularly friendly to him. It had been less than a year since the fall of the enigmatic figure, and remnants of the "pure-blood" ideology still held sway. Slytherin House, as the stronghold of pure-blood families, was undergoing intense internal turbulence.

And precisely during this time, a student from a Muggle orphanage was sorted into Slytherin (though one of his parents might have been a wizard, which wasn't entirely impossible given the circumstances of that era). The magnitude of the impact on them could easily be imagined—indeed, cases like Felix were rare, though not entirely unheard of.

If Felix were just an ordinary person, or even a regular time traveler, his seven years at school might have been filled with terms like "school violence," "bullying," and "indifference," which could have influenced him deeply.

But, unfortunately, Felix wasn't an ordinary person. He was a man (or boy) with a golden finger—a metaphorical ability to improve certain practical magic spells through repeated practice, surpassing his current level of magical theory.

Of course, it wasn't without limits.

For instance, if his magical theory level was at grade 1, he could use extensive, repeated, and ultra-intensive practice to elevate a specific magical spell to grade 2 or even grade 3, although it became progressively more difficult as he went higher.

Although the golden finger wasn't overwhelmingly powerful, it helped him get through the initial awkward period. Reflecting on his first three years at school, one could say it was a masterpiece of "face-slapping" in this magical world:

Before starting school, driven by his curiosity about magic and certain fantasies exclusive to adults, apart from trying out some simple spells, he spent most of his time on mastering two spells: "Petrificus Totalus" and "Protego."

One offensive and one defensive, reflecting his moderate approach to character development in his previous life's games.

Relatively speaking, "Petrificus Totalus" was simpler. After experiencing thousands of dull casting exercises, Felix forcibly advanced it to grade 2. "Protego," on the other hand, was only cast at a barely acceptable grade 1 level.

For someone with near-zero theoretical levels, this was nothing short of a miracle! The magical world should have awarded him a Merlin Badge.

And armed with grade 2 "Petrificus Totalus," in the first week of school, Felix triumphed over the entire Slytherin first-year class, even taking down a second-year boy who had cursed him, leaving him shivering in the restroom for a whole night.

This action had far-reaching consequences, causing even Severus Snape, who had recently become the youngest Slytherin House Head in history, a considerable headache.

Snape had to balance external pressure from other Slytherin parents while dealing with the extremely complex internal conflicts within the house. Fairly speaking, this put the newly appointed Professor Snape's management skills to an extreme test.

But what caused even more headaches for Snape was yet to come. At the end of his first year, Felix defeated the entire second-year class in a magical duel, leaving a considerable number of seats empty at the House Cup celebration.

As a result, during the entire holiday period, Felix was subjected to mandatory school labor—a situation that oddly suited his desires.

Otherwise, he suspected some parents might have paid him a visit with curses in mind! In the circumstances of that time, this wasn't just baseless imagination.

By his second year, under Snape's pressure, Felix had become more restrained, refraining from sending Slytherin students to the infirmary on a large scale. Instead, he did it one by one.

At the end of his third year, Felix Harp had become the de facto strongest student of Slytherin House, a crowned king without a crown. The effects were significant—no one dared to disrespect him within the whole school. Of course, there were still those outside the school who boasted arrogantly, vowing to show him a lesson while he remained within the school's confines.

Yes, Felix had spent a full three years at the school, never going anywhere beyond Diagon Alley to buy his textbooks.

A pitiable school life...

However, as in any story, there are twists, and Felix's came in his fourth year.

During the fourth-year holiday, Felix finally stepped out of the school and, over the course of the break, defeated seven adult wizards who had attempted to attack him, sending them all to Azkaban.

This was quite the sensation at the time, but an even bigger story followed. During Felix's fifth-year entrance feast, he challenged one of the sacred 28 pure-blood families, the Shafiqs, to a pure-blood family duel.

Felix can still recall the moment when the usually composed Professor Snape's jaw dropped and Dumbledore's eyes widened at that audacious request. Quite amusing, really! Felix displayed a childlike smile as he delved into the memories.

The so-called pure-blood family duel was an ancient form of combat, where family members would duel until one side was completely defeated or wiped out!

Even in the most chaotic and disorderly times, this kind of duel was exceedingly rare. However, it had to be admitted that this form of duel existed and hadn't been abolished.

When Felix stood before the sole representative of the Shafiq family, in front of everyone, and systematically followed the ancient duel etiquette to humiliate the Shafiq family (one of the necessary steps in a family duel), the sixth-year Shafiq collapsed on the ground, his body twitching.

Even when Headmaster Dumbledore tried to dissuade him after the feast, Felix held firm to his decision. He remembers what he said to Dumbledore, "Headmaster, the Shafiqs attacked me twice during the summer! Four of them in total! The first time it was one person, and the second time it was three. Do you know what spells they used?"

Dumbledore, his hair graying, had eyes deep with wisdom, but he remained silent.

Felix calmly continued, "They used the Unforgivable Curses, apart from the Killing Curse, the other two. Of course, they didn't succeed. It's hard to believe that even after four years since the fall of the enigmatic figure, people would still do such things."

Dumbledore, sounding somewhat weary, said, "The Shafiqs aren't Death Eaters—at least not all of them. They hold onto pure-blood ideology... a stubborn family."

"But that doesn't make much of a difference to me, does it? They sent four people after me in the summer. As far as I know, the Shafiq family doesn't have a lot of members. Including the elderly and the underage, there are only ten of them, right?"

...

The Shafiq family was far from a match. Felix's combat abilities had been recognized during the summer, and with the four Shafiqs sent to Azkaban, their remaining forces were fewer than four!

They could only resort to using their influence to attempt countermeasures, but the effect was minimal. Before pure-blood families, family honor was of the utmost importance.

This unfinished duel caused quite a stir in the entire British magical world. After nearly half a year of twists and turns, it concluded with the Shafiq family permanently leaving the British magical world. The age-old tradition of pure-blood family duels was also formally abolished through legal means, influenced by a few individuals.

This event came to be known as the 87 Duel Event, with far-reaching consequences. For some staunch families, its impact wasn't lesser than the downfall of Voldemort!

During his fifth-year holiday, Felix visited several pure-blood families. In summary, he had friendly meetings and reached amicable understandings on certain matters.

Felix felt content; pure-blood families were reasonable after all!

During his final two years at Hogwarts, Felix lived peacefully, innocuously delving into the mysteries of magic. When graduation approached, he requested to stay at the school as a teacher. Dumbledore refused on the grounds of his young age. Nevertheless, other than that, he spent his time contentedly, and the little snakes behaved well.

Summing up his seven years of school life, he had a rather enjoyable time.

Of course, Professor Snape might not necessarily think the same way. According to the latest gossip around Hogwarts, a certain professor's unpleasant personality had a connection with a troublesome student from his early years of teaching!

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July 21st, 10 AM

Felix Harp was dressed formally, standing by the fireplace. He tossed a handful of Floo Powder into the flames, calling out, "Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress's Office." After a flash of green fire, his figure disappeared.

Inside the Deputy Headmistress's Office at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall was sternly organizing school documents.

The Transfiguration professor, known for her strict demeanor, usually wore an expressionless face, but at this moment, her mood was quite good. Gryffindor House had secured the House Cup after a long hiatus last school year, and the joy of Gryffindor's Head of House lingered.

"Pop!"

A burst of emerald firelight erupted from the fireplace, and a young, courteous gentleman stepped out.

Felix Harp surveyed his surroundings briefly, and nothing had changed. How long it had been! He smiled warmly at Professor McGonagall and said, "Professor McGonagall, hello. It's been a while."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, signaling a quick shift in her mood, perhaps into work mode. "It has indeed been a while, Felix."

She had taught him too; she was one of his professors. Her feelings toward this famous student were complex, certainly not of the Snape variety.

Before the long-awaited House Cup victory, Gryffindor had suffered seven consecutive defeats, an experience deeply connected to Felix Harp.

Apart from his first three years, Felix had endured a rather rough learning environment, which compelled him to rise and fight back, resulting in lost points. In the following years, after he found camaraderie with the Slytherins, he seemed to realize his true place as a Slytherin student, fighting for the honor of the House.

And in the years that followed, one could sum it up in a single phrase: "Glory belonged to Slytherin."

...

Felix Harp stepped forward, checking his pocket watch. "I hope I haven't missed the interview."

Professor McGonagall's reverie was interrupted. She stood up and led him to the Headmaster's office. "Chocolate Frogs," she said as an incantation, sending Felix Harp inside. Just before he entered, she added, "Your books are quite impressive. It seems you've had a fulfilling three years."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall." He paused briefly, then smiled and ascended the staircase.

Three years since graduation, he hadn't been idly passing the time. Especially after his initial job application failure, he reflected and followed Dumbledore's advice: "Wander and observe."

He spent a year traveling the wizarding world, and the remaining two years working, uh, studying the Muggle world.

The results were remarkable—three years, three books; two on Muggle studies, one on ancient magical texts.

He had also amassed a substantial amount of wealth.

Climbing the long staircase, Felix Harp entered the Headmaster's office. It was filled with various books and alchemical objects, while portraits of past Hogwarts headmasters adorned the walls.

Beside the headmaster's desk, a phoenix dozed with closed eyes.

Dumbledore was engrossed in some study at his desk, and the entire office was steeped in tranquility.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, good morning," Felix Harp greeted aloud. As he spoke, the room suddenly came alive.

The portraits of the headmasters all opened their eyes, watching Felix Harp and pointing fingers, engaged in hushed conversations.

One portrait, in particular, was excessively dramatic. "Ha! The most outstanding Slytherin has arrived!"

The man in the portrait sported a goatee, thin eyebrows, and was wearing Slytherin robes. He was Phineas Nigellus Black, one of the least popular Hogwarts headmasters, according to the students. He was also a Slytherin.

Felix Harp gracefully bowed.

At this moment, Headmaster Dumbledore finally looked up. He had a distinctly unique appearance with his silver-white beard trailing down to his chest. His robe was somewhat disheveled, and he wore half-moon glasses.

Yet, none of this was as captivating as his eyes. His eyes were incredibly bright, and the deep blue irises seemed to shimmer.

Felix Harp found himself slightly entranced; time had left minimal marks on the headmaster, yet it also seemed to have left a great deal.

"Ah, ah! It's Felix," Dumbledore stood up, walking over with a lively step. "I've been waiting for your arrival."

Felix Harp shook the headmaster's hand with a touch of restraint. After all, he was here for a job interview, and he had been rejected three times already.

The two of them took their seats, Dumbledore's gaze penetrating through the thin lenses as he wielded his wand. "What would you like to drink? Pumpkin juice? Tea?" He blinked, "I also have fresh butterbeer."

"A cup of tea, thank you."

Dumbledore gave his wand a gentle wave, and a steaming cup of tea drifted in front of Felix Harp. He took a sip, and a tinge of bitterness filled his mouth and nose – it was aged tea. It seemed the headmaster didn't often drink tea.

"Sibyll sent me this tea, though personally, I can't discern its quality. But she says it comes from the distant East."

Charlatan!

Felix Harp thought inwardly, at least one of you is a charlatan.

After the tea was sipped, the conversation transitioned into the main topic.

"Felix, you've been doing exceptionally well these past few years. I've been reading your works, and I must say, your approach to Muggle studies is remarkably fresh and thorough... it has given this old man quite a lot to think about."

Felix Harp smiled, "Thanks to your advice, the Muggle world is truly fascinating, especially in recent decades; they've developed rapidly. As for my works... perhaps it's because I come from a Muggle background myself, I have an extra layer of understanding for them."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Your background doesn't diminish your effort. Many in the wizarding world come from Muggle backgrounds, yet not all excel in Muggle studies. They might have a deeper understanding of some common knowledge, but true comprehension is far from commonplace."

Of course, because I was a pure Muggle in my previous life.

Dumbledore waved his wand, summoning a book from his desk. The title read, "The Struggles of Muggles: A Journey from a Million Years Ago." It was one of Felix Harp's works. He realized that Dumbledore had been reading his book all this time.

"This book has been quite inspiring to me. I've read it more than once, particularly your perspective on the history of technology – is that the right term? – to explain how Muggles have progressed from primitive creatures over millions of years to their current state. I must say, it's a marvel."

"You also pointed out that Muggles experience rapid leaps in their technological level every once in a while, and the intervals between these leaps are growing shorter and shorter. You even predict the next leap is not far off – very thought-provoking!" Dumbledore praised his book endlessly.

Felix Harp humbly said, "This perspective isn't entirely mine. In fact, many sociologists in the Muggle world, or rather, Muggle scholars who study Muggles, have contributed to my understanding."

Dumbledore spoke calmly, "Many Muggles possess wisdom as well. Yet, in the wizarding world, few are willing to acknowledge this."

"I agree with you, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore blinked shortly after, seemingly skipping over the previous topic. He playfully remarked, "So, I suppose you've read quite a few Muggle works? To be honest, many of my Christmas gifts are books. They seem to think I prefer books. But in reality, I quite enjoy a good pair of woolen socks."

"Of course, if it's a book from the Muggle world, I don't think I'd refuse."

A glaring hint...

At least he now knew what to give for Christmas gifts...

"Yes, even though they lack magic, some Muggles spend over a decade to complete a single book, meticulously exploring a single question or theory," Felix Harp murmured softly. "It's a laborious process, and thus, it's precious."

Dumbledore looked somewhat content. "It seems you've truly gained a great deal over these years." Suddenly, he posed another question, "So, why are you so determined to teach at Hogwarts?"

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Felix seemed somewhat puzzled and inquired, "I don't understand, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore placed his hands before him, his gaze contemplative. "What I mean is, your potential is vast, yet you've been fixated on returning to Hogwarts! I wonder why."

The Headmaster's intent was clear. Felix had already gained considerable renown—three years since graduation, three remarkable books written. Especially the two about Muggle studies, although their sales weren't impressive—certainly not compared to the other professor he had interviewed, who was also an author. The difference in sales between their works was like night and day.

Undeniably, these two books held immense influence. "A History of Muggle Struggles: From Millennia Past" and "How Muggles Think" had become guiding texts for many magical department dealing with Muggle-related matters across the world.

At least Dumbledore himself had discussed some of the content with friends, including the head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office and members of the Wizengamot, who spoke highly of these two books.

Felix pondered for a moment and said, "Headmaster Dumbledore, I have a deep connection to Hogwarts. It's like a home to me, a place of comfort! Moreover, I'm genuinely enthusiastic about teaching students. It's a rewarding endeavor..."

Dumbledore interrupted him, his bright blue eyes sharpening, showing none of the gentleness one might expect from a centenarian. "We all know that's not true. I want to know your true thoughts; it's crucial, especially for determining whether you should be granted a teaching position."

Felix grew a bit uneasy, feeling the pressure. He instinctively tried to employ the Occlumency technique, then abruptly stopped himself.

That wasn't a wise decision. Occlumency wasn't all-powerful, especially when you were of a relatively lower level, not to mention you were facing one of the greatest wizards of this century.

Luckily, he had made some minor preparations before coming here—

For instance, a few drops of Felix Felicis.

After a brief two-second contemplation, he decided to go with his gut feeling and said, "To be completely honest."

Felix finally spoke up, earnestly confessing, "To delve deeper into the mysteries of magic."

Dumbledore nodded, adopting an attentive demeanor.

"Headmaster, from the time I entered until I graduated, you've been my headmaster. So, you must have a certain understanding of my experiences. Before fifth year, in order to handle certain troubles, I spent a great deal of time on practical magic, neglecting some theoretical subjects." That was true; to avoid being beaten up and punished, he had felt a sense of urgency.

"During that time, I pursued power, the potency of individual spells. But I was mistaken. It wasn't until the last two years at school, when I finally had the leisure to delve into the mysteries of magic, that I realized what I had missed." That was also true; his golden finger had rapidly propelled him towards strength but led him astray—focused solely on the might of magic, neglecting the importance of theory.

Dumbledore nodded slightly, his tone softening and taking on a hint of curiosity. "So, your research focus is Ancient Runes?"

This wasn't hard to deduce, after all, Felix's three books included not only Muggle Studies but also "Exploring Ancient Runes." Muggle Studies, though, couldn't exactly be considered a study of magic.

"Exactly! The deeper one delves into magic, the more inseparable it becomes from Ancient Runes. Especially when you need to trace back to the origins and study ancient magic, it becomes even more indispensable. It was only in my sixth and seventh years that I realized this. Sadly, in my OWLs exams, I got only an 'A' in Ancient Runes. I couldn't continue with advanced studies; I had to resort to self-study." This was more truth, a mistake Felix, in his youthful ignorance, had committed.

Felix continued under the influence of Felix Felicis, his intuition becoming sharper, his sentences flowing more smoothly. "I do have ulterior motives, indeed. Hogwarts possesses the world's largest library, housing many books on Ancient Runes."

"But on the market—"

"I've read all the books available on the market. Regrettably, most are theoretical with little practicality—they seem to view Ancient Runes purely as a language, using it solely to translate past manuscripts. Moreover, during my research on Muggles, I unexpectedly gained a new inspiration. I tried to combine the two! As you know, Ancient Runes are also essential knowledge for Alchemy."

Dumbledore became quite intrigued. "Are you suggesting—correct me if I'm wrong—that you wish to integrate alchemy and Muggle artifacts?"

Felix appeared excited and went on, speaking fluently, thanks to the effects of Felix Felicis. "Yes, but it's at a preliminary stage—transforming Muggle artifacts into magical products. For instance, air conditioning—an apparatus that cools the air and maintains indoor temperatures at a comfortable range. Muggles rely on electricity—a form of energy—to operate it. However, transforming it into a magical item is simpler, with a freezing charm as its core and an enchantment for temperature regulation."

"Of course, stability must be taken into account, and that's where Ancient Runes come in."

"What I'm currently doing goes even further. I'm blending Muggle ingenuity with wizarding magic. You see, Muggles often have numerous ingenious ideas. Some of their concepts are difficult to materialize, but with magic, it becomes much simpler!"

Dumbledore nodded, offering his assessment. "The first step is modification, the second is creation—an ingenious idea."

The two discussed this matter at length, for a whole three hours, before Dumbledore suddenly snapped back to awareness. He had truly been immersed in the discussion with Felix, who, it could be said, was one of the most exceptional students he had encountered in the past few decades.

Especially now, after his suggestion, this student, after three years of development, was bursting forth with brilliant ideas!

Though he was a Slytherin.

A pity he was a Slytherin!

Dumbledore fell silent, contemplating and hesitating. Time seemed to rewind fifty years in an instant.

It was too alike, eerily so!

The same Muggle orphanage background, the same Slytherin House, the same excellence and politeness, the same obsession with power. How should he decide?

History had proven that perhaps his choice decades ago was wrong. If he hadn't forced the young man to submit using the flames of magic, if he had cared a bit more back then, or even if he had discovered his latent ambition a bit sooner, perhaps a terrifying Dark Lord wouldn't have emerged.

So, what about now?

Seemingly, another similar choice was before him. How should he decide again?

The old man looked a bit dazed, gazing at the young, handsome, brilliant student before him, as if seeing the shadow of another.

Voldemort!

On the other side, Felix seemed puzzled. Everything I've said was true, even if selectively. We were having a good conversation earlier, so why does Dumbledore suddenly look so complex and solemn?

Did I say something wrong?

Did it sting him?

What's going on, exactly?

Felix had quite the headache!

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The headmaster's office was once again shrouded in silence.

After a while, Dumbledore seemed to come back to his senses. He had made a decision.

Dumbledore chose his words carefully, "I'm sorry, Felix, Professor Babajee has no intention of retiring yet…"

Felix's expression showed disappointment.

"However," Dumbledore quickly continued, "it's clear that you excel in ancient magical texts."

"Yes, Headmaster," Felix thought of something, suppressing a glimmer of hope rising within him. He stared at Dumbledore with unwavering eyes.

The old man across the desk didn't beat around the bush. He straightforwardly revealed his idea, "I would like you to teach Ancient Runes, Felix. Are you willing?"

"Of course, I am!" Felix blurted out, then slowed down his speech, "Yes, I am willing. But, Professor Babajee..."

"Ah, Bathilda," Dumbledore sighed as if reminiscing, then explained, "She has served Hogwarts for over fifty years. In recent years, she's been wishing to take a break and see how the world has changed."

"A break? Are you suggesting I temporarily teach Ancient Runes? For a whole school year? Or just a semester?" Felix slightly furrowed his brow. This wasn't exactly what he wanted.

The library at Hogwarts was immensely rich, and being a professor at the school came with numerous conveniences. He didn't want just a year or two. He wanted at least five, maybe ten years.

Dumbledore chuckled, his silver beard trembling slightly. He pointed out earnestly, "Felix, Bathilda is not a pure wizard. She has a magical lineage that sets her apart—her perspective on time is different from ours."

Another lineage? Felix recalled Bathilda's appearance. She seemed unchanged from her time as a student to her graduation...

Could she be a half-blood? A mix of other humanoid races?

That was possible. The wizarding world had its share of such individuals. The most common crossbreeds were between humans and giants, veela, dwarves, and fairies. He knew that there were more than a few at the school.

Before he could come to a conclusion, Dumbledore continued, "In Bathilda's view, taking a break for ten or twenty years is perfectly normal. In fact, when she complained to me about not getting a break, she suggested a few names to replace her, including yours, Felix."

Felix realized in a moment. His relationship with this professor was indeed quite good. Though he couldn't take Ancient Runes in his sixth and seventh years, he had been self-studying with her guidance. Even after graduation, their correspondence hadn't stopped.

It could be said that, apart from Dumbledore, Bathilda was the professor he stayed in touch with most after leaving school.

Professor Dumbledore went on, "Your arrival will make Bathilda quite happy. Over the years, she's been accumulating wishes she wants to fulfill. She's almost filled an entire parchment."

Seeing this as a stroke of luck, Felix nodded eagerly.

Stepping out of the headmaster's office, Felix let out a long sigh. Although the interview process had its twists and turns, in the end, the result was positive. He had finally returned to this place.

The heart of the British wizarding world—Hogwarts. This time, as a professor.

Calming his emotions, he returned to Professor McGonagall's office. He caught a glimpse of the fading silhouette of a phoenix guardian, and it struck him. Dumbledore must have conveyed the outcome through the guardian to McGonagall.

Indeed, Professor McGonagall raised her glasses, "I've received Dumbledore's message, Felix. No, I should call you Professor Harp now."

"You can still call me Felix. I'll forever be your student."

McGonagall gave a slight hum, "Professor Snape might not be so pleased."

Felix scratched his head. He had managed to infuriate Snape considerably back in the day. However, McGonagall swiftly moved on from that topic. She waved her wand, and from the large cabinet in her office, several rolls of parchment flew out. These parchments were neatly arranged into a stack, reflecting the serious and earnest nature of their owner.

"These are your class schedules, student rosters, duties and powers, procurement details, and things I personally believe you might need. Of course, the most urgent question is whether your teaching materials need any changes."

"Teaching materials?" Felix was a bit perplexed.

"Yes, teaching materials," McGonagall repeated, "Many professors have their own teaching philosophies. In principle, Hogwarts encourages this. Therefore, they can decide how to conduct their classes, the balance between theory and practice, and, of course, the selection of teaching materials."

McGonagall looked at him, "I know you've written a book on Ancient Runes."

Felix understood and pondered for a moment, then decided not to make any changes. "Professor Babajee's teaching materials are excellent. I gained a lot from them during my time as a student."

"Very well." Professor McGonagall seemed nonchalant about his decision. However, Felix thought he heard her mutter something under her breath, but the voice was too soft for him to catch. It seemed to involve another professor.

"If... only the professors were like that..."

Felix didn't press further. As a new professor, he didn't want to stir up trouble before officially starting his position.

As a Slytherin, he was very goal-oriented in his actions.

After a while, Professor McGonagall looked up at the motionless Felix and said, "Professor Harp, you may leave. We will send you the official appointment letter and the start date. If there are additional details, they will be included in the letter."

Felix smiled, "Professor McGonagall, I would like to do some more preparation. You see, even though I've made some progress in the field of magic, I'm still quite young, and I don't have relevant teaching experience. In this regard, you're experienced, and I greatly need your guidance."

Whether it was an illusion or not, Felix noticed a brief smile from Professor McGonagall. Of course, it could have been a twitch of the lips; he'd heard that people who rarely smiled were prone to facial tics.

Felix's mind was filled with disjointed thoughts.

"Felix, you've always been so polite," McGonagall seemed to sigh with emotion, but she stopped her work by the desk, giving him face. "What would you like to know?"

"I'd like to start by looking at student information, such as their academic records, the number of students in each house by year, some exceptional or well-known young wizards. If there are evaluations for each student, that would be even better."

McGonagall gave him a sideways glance and waved her wand soundlessly. The doors of the large cabinet opened with a clatter, and countless rolls of parchment flew out. Felix quickly pulled out his wand and conjured a long table from the feathered quill on the desk.

McGonagall understood and piled the rolls of parchment onto the long table. "Impressive Transfiguration."

"Couldn't have done it without your teaching," Felix said modestly.

"I remember you didn't have high marks in Transfiguration for your first three years."

Felix blushed a bit. At the time, he was busy taming the little snakes in his seventh year, and he didn't have enough time to practice spells, let alone Transfiguration. As long as it was passable, it was good enough.

It was only later that he picked up Transfiguration.

McGonagall didn't linger on his grades because she knew very well the circumstances Felix was in back then. To be honest, she always had reservations about using the Sorting Hat to place Felix. For a long time, she believed he should have been placed in Gryffindor.

Just for that recklessness—ahem, bravery—how could he not be in Gryffindor!

Even among the lions, he was the most impulsive one!

"These are the materials you asked for, but there are no evaluations. As for some exceptional young wizards, I can only speak from my Gryffindor perspective and mention some names from our house."

"That's still very useful." Felix wasn't picky.

"Oliver Wood and Percy Weasley in sixth year, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson in fourth year, Hermione Granger in second year," then, McGonagall pursed her lips, "Of course, there are also the Weasley twins, Fred and George. Merlin, if they put half the energy they use for pranks into studying..."

"Is that all? I recall that the famous Harry Potter also started school. Isn't he in Gryffindor? I'm curious, the name Harry Potter rings a bell across lifetimes."

"Harry..." It was clear that this name brought even more mixed feelings.

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What kind of person is Harry Potter?

Professor McGonagall is undoubtedly one of the most qualified individuals to answer this question. To be fair, apart from a certain unnamed Potions professor, most of the staff members have a favorable impression of Harry.

Sincere, polite, and just; but on the other hand, he can be a bit impulsive, reckless even—though that's not entirely a bad thing, and it certainly suits his Gryffindor nature.

However, these are all personality evaluations. If we consider his academic achievements...

It can only be said, can't go into detail! Detailing it would reveal great potential! Much like some teachers in the previous life during parent-teacher meetings.

Finally, Professor McGonagall introduced Harry in this way: "Harry is a very friendly young wizard, and he's quite skilled in Quidditch."

Leaving Felix Harp scratching his head a bit, I asked what subjects he excelled in, and you tell me he's friendly? Is that the only thing worth praising?

But skilled in Quidditch... that seems to indicate a natural aptitude for sports!

Truth be told, Felix felt a bit envious. Not envious of standing out on the Quidditch pitch, but in his eyes, those with sporting talent were at least half-duelists.

What does dueling rely on? Spell power, casting skill, mindset, experience, reflexes.

One could say he fully possessed the first four traits, but as for the last one, reflexes, it can only be described as average, barely not lagging behind. But don't think Felix is weak, thanks to his "plot armor," his spell power far surpasses what he should naturally possess.

As early as the end of his fourth year, he could stand up to three fully grown wizards and break through their defenses through sheer force.

Not to mention his current state.

Comparing him to a certain unnamed Potions professor, Felix's magical theory might be slightly less advanced due to age, but his spell power unquestionably surpasses the latter by more than a margin.

And all of this, he achieved through day and night effort!

Practicing a primary offensive spell over ten thousand times, can you believe it? Take for example, one of his strongest attack spells, "Petrificus Totalus," a spell he first encountered in magic. He now rates it as a top-level sixth-year spell, struggling to break into seventh-year level.

No other reason, his magical foundation couldn't support him going further.

But what does a sixth-year spell mean? Just two years ago, with two sixth-year spells and a little trick, he took down seven American wizarding aces in an instant!

Unparalleled speed and devastating spell power, that's how Felix rates himself.

It's precisely because Felix, by the end of his fourth year, managed to master two sixth-year spells two levels above, that he has the confidence to face the outside world.

Felix sighed a bit, if only he had exceptional reflexes, perhaps he wouldn't need to rely on potion-enhanced finishing moves.

Fortunately, in the three years since graduation, he hasn't been idle. A new magic has already taken shape.

Here, Felix strongly thanks those black wizards who have made indispensable contributions to his magical career!

Thank you for showing by example.

...

Felix Harp sat on the other side, perusing the materials provided by Professor McGonagall. Every now and then, he copied some information and recorded statistical data — this had become his specialty after two years in the Muggle world.

It should be mentioned that during these two years, he worked at three different companies. Every time he left, the companies were reluctant to part with him, and it wasn't because he used Confundus Charms!

In the afternoon, Felix and Professor McGonagall enjoyed tea together. During this time, Felix raised a question.

"Teaching Assistant?" McGonagall looked a bit puzzled.

"It's like an aide, someone who assists the professor with various tasks, like organizing research materials, grading papers, supervising exams, auditing classes, and so on," Felix corrected. "Of course, there are some small perks as well."

McGonagall understood it a bit now. She rolled her eyes slightly, thinking, What aide? I can see right through your attempt to slack off!

Just as Severus Snape had said, "That lad Felix is a true Slytherin!" As soon as he got a teaching position, he began finding ways to shirk his responsibilities!

"I don't believe it's right for a professor to delegate their work to students," Professor McGonagall sternly stated, pursing her lips.

"Professor McGonagall, you've misunderstood me. I actually want to nurture exceptional students."

McGonagall gave him a look that said, "Don't try to fool me."

"It's true. According to my plan, in the first year, I don't intend to establish my own professor's club. After all, I need time to become familiar with teaching and the environment."

The so-called professor's club was when certain professors invited outstanding students from different houses in their classes to gather and research magic.

Commonly known as giving special attention.

For instance, Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration Club held occasional events to teach magic and techniques not covered in class or exams.

McGonagall nodded slightly. As Felix was new, she hadn't discussed this matter with him at all.

"Your idea is to discover talents in advance? Prepare for next year's club?" McGonagall inquired.

"Exactly!"

McGonagall considered it for a moment. She thought this could be done and would be beneficial for the students. Just the extra guidance would be like a treat for the high-achievers — as one of the few outstanding graduates with a dominant presence in the past few decades, Felix was undoubtedly qualified.

As for the underachievers? Who cared about what the underachievers thought? It had nothing to do with them at all!

There were no underachievers in the professor's club.

"So, what are your criteria?" Professor McGonagall asked. This opportunity wasn't common, and she was prepared to use her power to promote her own house's talents.

Felix pondered for a moment and proposed a few points. "Well... first is a proactive learner, someone who's eager to learn and hungry for knowledge. Secondly, good memory. Third... not too high of a year, after all, I'm the first assistant, and I want to spend some time cultivating them."

"Also, Ancient Runes grades aren't important; I have special teaching techniques." He added.

Felix thought a bit more and felt these requirements were sufficient.

In reality, he was looking for a handyman, someone to help him with various tasks. But even handyman had ranks, low-level underachieving handyman wouldn't be of much use, they wouldn't be more helpful than his own magic.

However, top-notch handyman were different. They were comfortable to use, and with a bit of training, they could develop into teaching assistants, magical research aides, even partners—truly a win-win situation.

McGonagall didn't even have her bite of cake anymore. She quickly scanned through the Lion House students' names in her mind. Wood wasn't suitable, he had Quidditch conflicts; Percy was good, but he was already in fifth year and had to prepare for OWLs...

The Weasley twins? She feared they'd be sent back within two days! But these two did have potential...

Suddenly, a name popped into her mind.

"You mean Hermione Granger?" Felix was somewhat surprised. Wasn't that the name of one of the members of the adventurous trio? She was in Harry Potter's year, so she was only second year this year?

"Exactly, she almost perfectly meets your requirements—loves knowledge, excellent memory, and she's not too advanced in her year," Professor McGonagall spoke kindly. She had a favorable impression of Miss Granger because there was a rumor going around that she had the nickname "Mini-McGonagall."

Seeing Felix hesitating, Professor McGonagall also mentioned the Weasley twins, but she also told him about their awful pranks.

"Let's have a talk when school starts." In the end, Felix couldn't make up his mind either.

Can you guess what's being referred to as the "finishing move" in the text? And what might the "little trick" be?

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After reviewing the materials, Felix Harp bid his farewell.

On his way back, he made a detour to Diagon Alley, where he procured two sets of ancient magical text books, spanning from third year to seventh year, from Flourish and Blotts. One set was brand new, while the other, a carefully chosen "treasure," was extracted from a stack of old books, a task that took him quite some time.

These old textbook editions were contributed by four academic wizards. Though their handwriting varied, their notes shared detailed consistency. Felix believed he could draw some inspiration from them, considering it as a form of research.

The next day, he embarked on the thrilling phase of lesson preparation. He first perused the textbooks and surprisingly found them quite straightforward!

Professor Babbling certainly lived up to her reputation as an expert in ancient magical texts. The selected materials possessed distinct characteristics: they aligned with the current mainstream perspective, yet also integrated a considerable proportion of practical magical writing.

The prevailing viewpoint was this: ancient magical texts were a form of ancient script used by wizards of old to record magic. It was the responsibility of modern researchers to translate those remnants of magical manuscripts.

However, this was just a partial truth. In reality, though all labeled as "ancient magical texts," their history extended far back—into distant ages when they were intricate mystical patterns used to harness wizarding magic. These patterns were extensively employed in ancient magic and alchemical creations.

And it was these magically imbued ancient magical texts that Felix sought, the power he pursued, and the field of study he was dedicated to.

He subsequently perused notes from several academic wizards. The sections pertaining to challenging points, comprehension strategies, and solutions proved to be highly enlightening. They helped him understand how young wizards perceived the subject.

Indeed, he admired the academic wizards, as like attracts like.

With these notes from academic wizards and the curriculum he acquired from Professor McGonagall, Felix had a very clear understanding of the teaching content he needed to cover.

Next came the consideration of teaching methods.

Even though he had obtained the coveted teaching position, Hogwarts' millennia-old library had once again opened its doors to him, and yet he was a legendary graduate returning to his alma mater. He couldn't risk being criticized for inadequate teaching, could he?

He couldn't afford that! After all, he was from Slytherin House—image was important!

"How can I make it captivating enough?" Felix pondered repeatedly. His first thought was a "sea of questions" strategy.

At this moment, he wasn't alone in this battle! The psychological shadows that countless examinees could never shake off were now attached to him.

A sinister chuckle echoed within the small room.

But back to the topic at hand. Felix took out a piece of parchment and wrote down the words "Sea of Questions" on it. He then branched out into two paths: one listed the advantages, such as "quick consolidation of acquired knowledge," and the other represented the drawbacks, noting "risk of triggering resistance."

Of course, Felix aimed for excellence, but he also understood the level of those unpredictable young wizards. If he didn't want to outshine Professor Binns as the "least popular professor," he had to tread carefully.

"The key lies in being both engaging and substantial. But engaging and the sea of questions are opposite strategies..." Felix mumbled, "Perhaps I can start with using ancient magical texts to write journals and short essays."

Time flowed swiftly as he contemplated...

"End-of-term assessments are crucial too; incorporating a practical segment might be worth considering."

Ancient magical texts were inherently dry, yet they delved into the mysteries of magic and were essential knowledge, linking ancient magic and ancient alchemy.

The former represented immense power, while the latter symbolized the once glorious creations of magic.

"Ancient magic might not be easy to grasp, I can't even fully grasp it now. But using the acquired knowledge to complete or at least repair an alchemical artifact seems like a feasible approach..." Felix plunged into a kind of "brainstorming" mode, ideas and inspirations exploding forth. His quill danced swiftly on the table, leaving a trail of fleeting strokes.

By evening, Felix had completed the preliminary design of the course.

"Not bad at all." He gazed contentedly at his creation: three sheets of parchment densely covered with text and flowcharts.

The remaining question was what alchemical artifact he should use as a teaching medium.

This wasn't an easy task, as Felix Harp had no intention of preparing five alchemical artifacts spanning third to seventh year levels. It was too cumbersome, consuming his precious study time.

He planned to select an appropriate alchemical item and categorize them into varying difficulty levels.

For instance, first-year students would only need to complete tasks like 【Connecting】, 【Conveying】, 【Balancing】, and 【Coordinating】, akin to the tasks of connecting wires and toggling switches in a physics experiment.

As for seventh-years, while he wasn't asking for rocket-building, putting together a weight-bearing cart couldn't be too much trouble, right?

"What should I use as the medium? It shouldn't be too simple, or I won't differentiate between the levels. But it also can't be overly complex, or I'll tire myself out."

Hogwarts' young wizards numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands. Even if only a third of them opted for Ancient Runes, for him, aspiring for "educational innovation," the workload was still considerable.

Felix found himself in a quandary. He aimed to strike a balance between "efficiency" and "quality."

For three consecutive days, Felix rummaged through his collection, yet he couldn't pinpoint an appropriate entry point.

"There are so few ancient magical texts available, and those focused on practical use are even rarer!" Felix lamented. This made him yearn even more for Hogwarts' library.

It was his One Piece, so to speak!

Felix had heard various peculiar legends during his school years, like how each of Hogwarts' four founders had left behind mysterious treasures. However, in his perspective, mastering all the magical knowledge within the library wouldn't put him below any of the four giants in terms of achievement.

The greatest treasure trove was right in front of him, yet most people were blind to it!

He himself had missed it too, only realizing it belatedly. Why else would he have spent these years planning his return to Hogwarts? Wasn't it all because he yearned for his white moonlight?

After coming up empty-handed, Felix left his room and prepared to go out to clear his mind.

"Mr. Harp, haven't seen you in a few days!" he encountered an elegant lady.

"Linda, I've been busy preparing for my new job."

"You found a job?"

...

After a brief conversation, the lady left with a hint of reluctance.

It's worth mentioning that Felix's refined personality and handsome appearance made him popular among the neighbors.

London's West End streets.

Felix wandered aimlessly, contrasting with the hurried pedestrians. He seemed exceptionally leisurely, as if he belonged to a different world.

And it wasn't entirely inaccurate to say so.

Midway, Felix passed by a dental clinic. Gazing at the clean and neat storefront, he paused briefly, a thought that had been lingering in his mind reemerged.

No hurry, I'll come back in a few days.

He continued walking, eventually stopping at a youth activity center. Listening to familiar phrases like "Yofaku Kinda" and "Gogsinei," Felix found himself walking in, almost as if controlled by some unseen force.

The interior was dimly lit, with slightly older children frantically tapping buttons, tirelessly jerking the joysticks, and uttering strange terms like "huhuhaha."

Fighting games, huh?

Felix felt a trace of his childhood returning, not from this lifetime but from the previous one. Familiar characters on the screen brought a sense of familiarity, especially the girls in scanty outfits.

"Fire Guy's moves are so cool!!"

"Ice Girl's ultimate skill is AoE; you don't get it!"

Felix chuckled softly. True, gaming enthusiasts worldwide had similar naming conventions: distinctive moves plus gender.

About to turn and leave, a spark of inspiration suddenly lit up. Wait a second, what was I just thinking about?

Fighting?

Action figures? Yes, action figures!

Felix's eyes brightened. He had finally found the suitable alchemical artifacts for the fifth-year class—sufficiently intricate yet not overly challenging. It wasn't exactly action figures, rather magical puppets, right?

After days of contemplation, he finally had closure.

Using characters from fighting games as templates and employing ancient runic circuits as the method, he could recreate some of the characters from the games!

This type of magical puppet (action figure), both wizarding world children and Muggle-born witches and wizards would find acceptable, without any psychological obstacles.

As for difficulty, it was also easy to adjust. For third and fourth years, he could engrave the core magical runes of the puppets and leave them to complete certain nodes and branch structures.

Older students would need to be hands-on, completing at least one functional module.

The more Felix thought about it, the more excited he became. He could even organize a puppet fighting competition!

After all, wizarding world kids were living quite a tough life, their entertainment options were quite limited. What was so great about Quidditch, anyway?

He just couldn't get into Quidditch; it definitely had nothing to do with his failing first-year Flying class!

A mental image surfaced in Felix's mind: two students facing off, one holding a magical puppet the size of a palm. They struck classic combat poses.

Prepare for an intense and thrilling magical showdown!

Felix got lost in his daydream, a faint smile involuntarily playing on his lips.

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What does it take to create a "genuine" magical puppet?

First, one must understand what a magical puppet is. Simply put, it's a guardian and protector. As Felix Harp knew, Hogwarts School had a collection of stone puppets, intricately crafted and enduring through the ages, always safeguarding Hogwarts' security.

However, for the purpose of teaching, such strictness was unnecessary.

Find some high-quality clay, mix in a bit of dragon dung, and add a splash of magical creature blood - dragon blood would be best, but for instructional purposes, cost-effective options would suffice.

But Felix himself could certainly create some advanced combat puppets for his personal collection...

Felix quickly submitted an application report to Professor McGonagall. After a complex exchange, Professor McGonagall ultimately agreed to his idea, allowing him to give it a try.

Along with the acceptance letter, a formal appointment, and a small bag of Galleons arrived.

Felix promptly acquired the materials for the student version of magical puppets. He dug the clay himself, and obtained dragon dung and magical creature blood from the black market. Then, he spent three days wandering Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, and various magical black markets around the world, finally gathering the premium materials for his "deluxe edition" magical puppets.

Subsequently, Felix wrote to his "dear" Slytherin classmates, borrowing house-elves from their homes temporarily to establish a magical version of an assembly line.

Felix cleared out his own house and used the Traceless Extension Charm to transform the room into a plaza-sized space.

Before him stood a row of house-elves.

"Everyone, I'll be relying on you from here on!" After demonstrating the puppet model creation process once, Felix stepped back and delegated the task.

As for himself, he was busy too! Aside from redesigning his "deluxe edition" combat puppets and adding various restricted powerful magical circuits, he also had to tend to the food needs of the house-elves, ensuring they could fully devote themselves to their work.

Felix wasn't just speaking idly; the testimonies of the house-elves confirmed it: "Mr. Harp is truly magnificent!" xN

Days slipped away, and in the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.

Felix looked at the models of hundreds of magical puppets and was greatly satisfied, even though these models lacked any magical circuits, they could be considered unfinished products at best.

But it was sufficient.

As a farewell gesture, Felix prepared a lavish farewell feast for the house-elves.

"You're truly generous!" xN

After harvesting another round of thanks, Felix saw off these "volunteer laborers."

In the following week, Felix began crafting ancient magical runes of varying difficulty based on the number of students in each year. He reinforced them with strengthening charms to prevent damage, after all, these were valuable!

Felix exhausted himself to the point of near death before finally finishing.

"Next time, I won't do something like this! It's so damn tiring!"

Felix felt drained, his face pale, but he had taken a significant step forward in understanding ancient magical runes.

Casually picking up a semi-finished magical puppet, it was a palm-sized (about half a foot) figurine of a young man in proportionate reduction. He wore traditional Eastern-style student robes and had a pair of black gloves with exposed fingers, adorned with a golden sun emblem on the back of the gloves and the robe.

After spending a few minutes completing the ancient magical rune circuit, he waved his wand, and the magical puppet immediately sprang to life.

First, it cautiously moved its limbs, kicked and punched, then it raised its index finger in a classic pose. After a few seconds of pause, it swung its arm forcefully. A football-sized flame followed the predetermined path of ancient magical runes, erupting from its fingertip, flying out half a meter away...

"Hehehe..."

Felix's magical puppet, while drawing inspiration from a fighting game, wasn't a mere copy. He made some magical modifications to its appearance and moves.

The magical puppets came in twelve different designs, featuring handsome men and beautiful women, old and young - a variety for students to choose their favorite type.

And for each puppet, in addition to basic combat moves, there was the design of "external skills." But considering practicality, Felix Harp didn't make it too complicated. He simply divided them roughly into four categories: "fire," "ice," "lightning," and "cutting."

Take fire as an example. Considering safety concerns (one mustn't underestimate young wizards' curiosity), the "external skill" released by the student version magical puppet was just ordinary flames, at most made to look more impressive.

In this aspect, he was quite knowledgeable. He even modified a character's skill: the ultimate move transformed into a fiery phoenix – yes, a phoenix.

Felix was very satisfied. Perhaps, he could bring a new trend to Hogwarts! With teaching tools sorted, Felix turned his attention to his "deluxe edition" combat puppets.

Six in total.

If you must label them to satisfy imagination, you could summarize them with the following keywords:

Fire Master, Beautiful female doll;

Ice Master, Beautiful female doll;

Lightning Master, Beautiful female doll;

Cutting Master, Beautiful female doll;

Speed Master, Beautiful female doll;

Transfiguration Master, Beautiful female doll;

Hehe, surprisingly consistent in features~

Overall, in his collection of figurines, he added two new types: speed assassins and transfiguration disruptors. These six figurines weren't run-of-the-mill; he expended a significant amount of premium materials, engraved intricate ancient magical runes, and protective magic to create these alchemical masterpieces.

For instance, the Fire Master's figurine was engraved with a potent magical fire, with extremely high temperature. It could shoot flames up to 20 meters away, its power capable of smashing half a wall and maintaining this combat intensity for ten minutes.

According to his estimate, any of these six magical puppets could easily overpower a seventh-year graduate with minimal effort.

And when the six figurines combined, there were ranged and close combat options, speed and power, strong offense and disruption. They could fight individually or pair up, or form teams of three, four, even up to six, with their combined power increasing exponentially.

Hmm, Felix thought maliciously, with these six puppets, he could easily stall an unnamed Potions Professor for ten minutes!

The only flaw was that they required a wizard to control them.

But the key was that Felix himself was far stronger than magical puppets...

A bit disappointing, Felix shook his head. There was still much room for improvement.

At the very least, they needed some combat intelligence.

Looking at the remaining materials, he pondered and decided to mix in some lower-grade materials to make five more puppets – stronger than the student version but weaker than the deluxe edition.

Consider them as prizes for the start of class – one for each year!

Perfect!

Felix took out a small box and placed the teaching tools inside – needless to say, this box was also subjected to the Traceless Extension Charm.

For his six figurines, Felix didn't think much. He waved his wand, causing them to float and fly onto a jade-green ring on his left index finger.

This object, resembling a storage ring, was fundamentally an alchemical creation reinforced with the Traceless Extension Charm and stable magical inscriptions.

Hidden magical circuits were also inscribed, minimizing magical fluctuations. From the outside, it looked like a decorative gemstone ring.

However, this ring held a third of his fortune, accumulated from his travels near and far!

Though the saying goes "a fox has three burrows," Felix had already established two burrows, only one left.

And this third burrow, he had already begun to outline it a few days ago.

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Felix Harp gently traced the inside of his wrist, where there was a nail-sized, flesh-colored pattern. Unless closely examined, few would notice this intricate design.

In reality, this pattern was an ancient magical inscription, concealing a small pocket of space within.

Within this space rested a backup wand.

Given the limited size of the pattern, it could hold only a few items. Moreover, the ancient magical inscription remained sealed, only to be unlocked under specific conditions.

And the condition for unlocking it was to apply a layer of his own blood.

This was his most secretive and imperceptible last resort—

For a day when he found himself in a disadvantageous position, disarmed, wandless, or even stripped of his ring, this magical inscription would aid him in turning the tide.

As long as he wasn't immediately killed, he would have a chance to turn the tables.

The ring on his left hand was apparent, while the magical inscription on the inner side of his right wrist was hidden—a balance of light and shadow, nearly perfect.

And now, Felix was preparing to complete the construction of the third chamber.

The reason for his caution wasn't solely because Hogwarts was a treacherous place with potential dangers or because he had malicious intentions. It was because he knew that from the moment he became the ancient runes professor at Hogwarts, he had officially stepped into the "plot."

Given his shallow understanding of the plot, it was difficult for him to foresee events, hence the need for early precautions.

He didn't believe in so-called "fairy tales"; he only believed in his own power.

Yet, no matter how little he understood the plot, he was clear about some fundamental things.

For example, in the previous life, Harry Potter's adventure experiences were condensed into eight movies, which roughly aligned with eight years in the magical world, considering one movie per school year. This fit Felix's imagination: seven years of in-school adventures, plus a year after graduation to completely defeat the enigmatic figure—seemed flawless.

A very rigorous deduction.

Now, one school year had already passed. If everything went as expected, Voldemort would meet his end in seven years.

Thinking about this, Felix felt somewhat relieved.

He was by no means Voldemort's match at the moment, but the future was uncertain.

As Felix contemplated his future strategies, he stepped out onto the streets of London.

Half an hour later, he stood at the entrance of a dental clinic—a place he had discovered a month ago.

Felix pushed open the door, and the bell above the entrance rang crisply.

A middle-aged man in a white coat emerged from the inner room, peering at Felix and inquiring, "Are you here for a dental check-up?"

Felix answered succinctly, "I need a tooth filling."

The dentist nodded and led him to a chair, saying, "Please have a seat. I'm Dr. Will Granger, you can call me Dr. Granger."

"I'm Felix Harp."

Dr. Granger had him lie back in the chair and examined Felix's oral cavity using a device resembling a flashlight. A puzzled expression appeared on his face. "Mr. Harp, your teeth are in excellent condition—clean, orderly, and of uniform size..."

Felix pointed to the upper left side of his cheek. "I want to fill a wisdom tooth."

Dr. Granger paused, finding this a rather unusual request. Wisdom teeth didn't serve much purpose. He earnestly advised, "Mr. Harp, I don't recommend getting a wisdom tooth filled, because..."

Following that, Dr. Granger displayed his professionalism, delivering a twenty-minute lecture on dental knowledge.

During this time, a girl with fluffy hair walked in. She appeared to be around twelve or thirteen years old. She glanced at the two individuals, especially at Dr. Granger's incessant explanation, and displayed an expression of exasperation as if thinking, "Here we go again."

Finally, Felix Harp had to interrupt him, "Dr. Granger, here's an idea. You can help me take the tooth out first, and after I've tried it, I'll decide whether I want to have it filled."

Dr. Granger thought for a moment and found the suggestion reasonable. He took out paper and a pen, jotting down the measurements of Felix's oral cavity. After comparing and measuring on paper, he quickly confirmed the size and shape of the wisdom tooth.

Soon after, he walked into the back room and began his work.

Felix Harp curiously examined the furnishings of the clinic, particularly the wall covered with small cabinets, each displaying enlarged models of teeth behind glass.

Just as he was absorbed in his observations, a confident voice sounded to his left.

"Filling the tooth isn't the best option, especially for a non-essential wisdom tooth."

Felix turned his head to see the girl. She continued, "It's going to hurt."

"Really? How painful?"

"You need to drill a hole in your gum with a small drill, then do the same on your artificial wisdom tooth, screw them together, and finally fix and adjust the position."

Suddenly, Felix's teeth started to ache...

And the girl's informative monologue carried on, "Even if you get the tooth filled, it's not a one-time solution. On the contrary, after damaging the gum, it becomes more susceptible to harm. If your oral hygiene isn't good, it could lead to gum decay, plaque buildup, causing your original teeth to loosen, fall out, and require further repairs..."

"Please, no more!" He had a mental image now.

Although he could use magic to heal and numb the pain, his mind was traumatized.

Seeing Felix's discomfort, the girl shook her voluminous hair and went to a corner to read a book, visibly content with herself.

Almost twenty minutes later, Dr. Granger emerged again.

In his hands, he held a silver-white tray bearing a polished and refined artificial tooth.

"Looks great, doesn't it?" Dr. Granger praised his own craftsmanship.

However, Felix merely nodded briefly; he was still shaken by what the girl had said!

Following Dr. Granger's instructions, he tested the artificial tooth—of course, there were no drill holes or wires, just a comfort assessment.

"Very nice!" Felix Harp praised. "However, I've decided not to get the tooth filled anymore."

"Is that so? It seems you've made the right decision." Dr. Granger didn't feel annoyed by losing a business opportunity; instead, he was happy for him.

However, the customer had a new request, "I'd like to purchase this tooth as a souvenir."

"A souvenir?" Another odd request, Dr. Granger thought, and even his quiet book-reading daughter looked up to glance at him.

"Yes, a souvenir."

"Very well." In the end, Dr. Granger only charged for the materials.

As Felix exited the clinic, Dr. Granger still felt a bit puzzled. He turned to his daughter and remarked, "A very peculiar customer, wouldn't you agree, Hermione?"

Hermione Granger looked up, watched Felix's figure disappear around the street corner, shook her head, and returned to her book.

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Upon returning home, Felix Harp approached his workbench and began to modify the tooth:

First, he drilled a small hole at the bottom of the tooth, creating a tiny cavity;

Next, he smoothed out the cavity;

Then, he placed it under a microscope and, using a carving knife he had purchased from a micro-carving merchant, etched intricate ancient magical symbols, nesting them together to form a circuit.

This was a delicate task, constructing magical symbol circuits within an incredibly minuscule space. It could be said that very few in the entire wizarding world could achieve such a feat. However, with the aid of his professional carving tools and the latest generation microscope he acquired at a high price, Felix Harp managed to reduce the difficulty of the entire magical process by two-thirds.

This was one of the fruits of his theory – the fusion of Muggle wisdom and magic.

Muggle wisdom, in this context, didn't merely refer to their unconventional ideas; their tools for studying and altering the world were equally fascinating.

In the wizarding world, very few could achieve this.

Pure-blood wizards, not to mention, often harbored disdain for Muggles, at best they might be indifferent;

As for half-bloods or wizards from Muggle families, they might be more familiar with the Muggle world, but between the ages of 11 and 18, their focus was primarily on magic. By the time they reached adulthood, their thought patterns had already solidified, making it nearly impossible to deeply integrate the strengths of both worlds.

...

It wasn't until the afternoon of the next day that Felix Harp gradually completed the construction of twelve sets of magical symbol circuits. Each circuit ranged from a few ancient symbols to more than ten. As he finished etching the final ancient symbol, he carefully connected these twelve circuits, forming a cohesive whole.

Magic circuits lit up one after another, and the brilliance of magic blossomed within the narrow and confined space!

With the illumination of the last circuit, the entire assembly of twelve circuits finally closed completely, forming an everlasting and unified mysterious pattern.

The tiny hole within the tooth began to expand without a trace, swiftly growing to the size of a small suitcase. And this expansion did not stop; Felix Harp patiently waited, savoring the results of the day and night's work, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

Finally, the interior space of the tooth expanded to the size of a small room. Then, the concealed circuits began to function; the surging fluctuations of magical power quickly diminished until they were almost imperceptible. The stable circuits solidified the entire magical script structure, making the tooth's container sturdy and resistant to wear...

Most importantly, the activation circuit would only trigger under the conditions he set.

Felix Harp smiled contentedly. The Third Hole, completed!

He retrieved a suitcase and transferred the items he had already prepared into the tooth's cavity. Felix Harp had designated it as a "portable backup storage room," containing not only seven or eight wands (obtained from dark wizards), but also various magical potions, flying broomsticks, tents, and other items.

With everything in place, Felix Harp placed the tooth into his mouth and secured it with magic.

He smacked his lips, feeling no difference, then licked the wisdom tooth deep within his mouth. Yes, it was almost indistinguishable from a real tooth. Dr. Granger's skills were truly impressive!

Felix Harp sat quietly at his desk, his gaze serene and contemplative.

His everyday items, the less important ones, resided in his suitcase;

As for the important belongings, his contingency supplies, they were divided into three parts, known as the Three Holes of the Cunning Rabbit.

First Hole: A gemstone ring on his left hand, storing a portion of his precious materials, potions, books, and some research findings, engraved with concealed magical inscriptions;

The advantage lies in its portability, convenient for daily use;

However, the drawback is that with frequent use, it's inevitable to draw attention, making it difficult to escape the scrutiny of skilled wizards;

Felix Harp's intention for it is as an everyday item and also as something openly enticing to draw fire.

Second Hole: A magical symbol circuit on his right wrist, storing only a spare wand;

The greatest advantage is its extreme concealment, nearly impervious to conventional methods of detection;

Felix Harp's intention for it is as a weapon for counterattacking in desperate situations!

Third Hole: "Felix's Wisdom Tooth" stores a considerable amount of regular supplies and strategic resources;

The advantage, again, is extreme concealment;

Felix Harp's intention for it is to provide him with ample resources when facing major crises or needing to go into hiding.

"That should make things fairly secure."

Felix Harp believed that individuals as crisis-conscious as himself were a rarity in the wizarding world. Perhaps some experienced members of the Order of the Phoenix had such foresight, but their methods surely couldn't match his.

Especially with his proficiency in the Occlumency, conventional methods of interrogation wouldn't even make him reveal secrets!

Of course, that's the worst-case scenario; Felix Harp didn't believe he would end up in such a predicament. Nonetheless, life is unpredictable, and it's wise to be prepared.

In the coming years, a shadow called "Voldemort" will loom over the British wizarding world.

Felix Harp never underestimated him. Perhaps the Second Dark Lord had intellectual shortcomings, but he was undoubtedly a magical genius. Moreover, his study of magic spanned far longer than Felix's, and not to mention he delved into the obscure and malevolent topics of "killing and death."

With less than a week until school starts, Felix Harp plans to relax a bit. He's been quite exhausted lately!

He intends to watch some movies, attend concerts, indulge in delicious food – after all, he still has a hundred thousand pounds in his account! In the future, most of his time will be spent in the wizarding world, and keeping all that money in cash isn't practical!

Felix Harp spent a good amount of pounds purchasing a range of Muggle items for recreational purposes.

Particularly, he spent eight thousand pounds on a small projection device, the kind used in cinemas, along with copies of classic Muggle movies. Concerned that Hogwarts might not permit Muggle items?

Is that a problem for him?

Likewise, music is indispensable. Felix Harp, who considers himself a quintessential Slytherin, aims to enjoy life to the fullest.

As the start of term approaches, Felix Harp tidies up his room, gathering all magical items into his suitcase – if a thief were to break in and steal a few magical items, it could become quite a nuisance.

"What else needs preparing?"

After contemplating for a while, Felix Harp suddenly taps his wise little brain, "Right, books!"

He recalls the hint given by the Headmaster during his interview. First, he bought several pairs of colorful wool socks, then he embarked on a mad shopping spree at various bookstores.

He got books he'd like to read and also Christmas gifts for various professors – whether they'd be useful or not, it's best to be prepared.

Felix Harp plans to give his former Head of House a book titled "Common Experiment Procedures for Secondary Students." Yes, the one with lots of illustrations.

Hopefully, he'll like it.

Felix Harp is confident he will – after all, he's his best student!

Felix Harp's anticipation for his new post at Hogwarts only grows stronger.

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September 1st.

The moment of commencement.

Felix Harp, the quintessential idler, undoubtedly employed Floo Powder to arrive at the Deputy Headmaster's office. He was dressed in robes of deep emerald green, his hair impeccably groomed, carrying a small handbag as he emerged from the fireplace.

"Professor McGonagall," Felix greeted with a smile on his lips.

Professor McGonagall was occupied with organizing the day's proceedings. The annual start-of-term feast was under her charge, making these few days perhaps the busiest of her year.

"Oh, thank goodness you finally came."

"Is something amiss?" Felix inquired.

"I need you to share some of the workload."

"Delighted to be of service, ma'am," Felix responded gallantly.

After handing him a series of tasks, Professor McGonagall hurriedly departed, muttering something like, "Dumbledore never cares about these matters... it's all on me..." It seemed she harbored some resentment toward the headmaster.

Felix examined the parchment in his hand with keen interest. "Let's see, the first task is to decorate the Great Hall?"

Great Hall (not the cafeteria).

Felix brandished his wand, adorning the walls with decorations, neatly arranging four long tables, optimizing the spacing of each chair.

Next was the weather above the Great Hall.

"To be honest, I've been itching to do this." Felix muttered and waved his wand.

Above the Great Hall, the midday sky instantly turned overcast, thick black clouds descending low, as if they were about to touch one's face.

Subsequently, Felix continued to wield his wand. The dense black clouds dispersed, revealing a vast expanse of eerie green light from high above, casting the entire Great Hall in an ambiance reminiscent of a cursed land...

"Ah," Felix exulted with extreme delight. He even conjured a large serpent that emerged through the green light, opening its jaws wide to reveal a twisted figure in the same sickly green hue, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a certain professor.

"Is this how you view the professor who taught you for seven years, Felix?" Just as Felix was joyfully engrossed, a gloomy voice suddenly cut through.

Felix turned around to see his Potions professor and Head of House, Severus Snape, his robes billowing like a specter as he floated over.

Snape's face was impassive, his eyes like calm, unrippled wells, devoid of any emotional fluctuation. He methodically sprayed venom, "Are you expressing your dissatisfaction toward me? Or after three years since graduation, has your noggin been filled with untimely Muggle notions, causing you to grow arrogant and impolite?"

Cough, cough! Felix felt a twinge of awkwardness – caught in the act of playing around!

Even more awkwardly, the elongated serpent above him lowered its head. The twisted, green-tinted figure within the serpent's mouth continued to writhe and sway...

With a wave of his wand, Felix dissipated the serpent into nothingness. Swiftly adjusting his expression, he acted as if he had just encountered Professor Snape, first displaying a surprised expression, then approaching him with rapid steps, offering a very courteous greeting.

"Professor, three years have passed, and your magic has grown even more composed and weighty."

Snape surveyed him expressionlessly, employing a rhythmically paced tone for a slightly mocking reply, "Three years have passed, and you've certainly broadened my horizons. If not for having taught you, I might have mistaken you for a daft lion."

Felix Harp displayed an "awkward" expression, his gaze "apologetically" averted elsewhere, before suddenly looking "startled" behind Snape, "M-McGonagall, Professor McGonagall, when did you arrive?"

Snape was taken aback and swiftly turned around, finding the corridor empty.

Turning back, he discovered Felix wearing a puzzled expression, "Huh? Did I just see wrong?"

Snape was left speechless with frustration.

Just like always.

This lad always managed to find an escape route for himself since his school days, making jokes, spouting nonsense. But Snape understood him well enough; he knew how dangerous this boy could be.

In fact, Snape had a fierce argument with Dumbledore earlier this morning upon learning that Felix was coming to teach at Hogwarts. He had just come from the Headmaster's office.

Snape discreetly approached, speaking at a volume only the two of them could hear, "Felix Harp—"

"You can call me Felix, Professor!" Felix interrupted.

Snape: "..."

Again, the same! Always interrupting, always cutting him off!

But well, Snape's slow and deliberate speech style did invite interruption. He tended to talk like he was singing a lament. Others might have been too intimidated by Snape's oppressive aura to interject, but Felix was too familiar with him!

Familiar enough to know the deep secrets he was hiding!

Snape picked up his pace, "Felix, I don't care what your purpose is for coming to Hogwarts, but I'll be watching you closely. If you intend to use Hogwarts students to spread your dangerous ideas—"

"So, Professor, you've read my work as well. I'm truly honored!" Felix interjected.

Snape was momentarily speechless.

"Professor McGonagall! Why are you here?" Felix suddenly turned his head to the side.

"Don't play your clever tricks with me!" Snape retorted in annoyance, feeling someone rapidly approaching from behind.

Emmm, this time it's true... Felix gestured discreetly behind Snape. Before Snape could turn around, Professor McGonagall's brisk footsteps were already audible, her tone stern and impatient.

"Professor Snape, your timing is impeccable. I need to discuss something with you."

And so, Professor Snape was led away by McGonagall. Felix waved goodbye, earning a fierce glare from Snape.

"Seems like the professor has quite an opinion of me~" Felix mumbled, "It's been years since I threatened you, but you still remember. How embarrassing."

Well, Felix had indeed threatened Snape before. To be precise, the overt and covert clashes between them had been going on for not just once during their time at school, but for a full seven years.

But that's a whole other lengthy story.

In any case, Felix continued to organize the Great Hall. This time, he refrained from playing around. Waving his wand, he transformed the space above the hall into a dazzling starry sky. He deliberately enlarged and brought closer some stars, including the pristine round moon, the fiery red Mars, and the yellow-brown Saturn with its encircling ring... In the distance were smaller, twinkling stars that continuously blinked, adorning the hall in resplendent beauty.

"Exquisite magic!" came a high-pitched voice. Felix looked up, then quickly looked down.

He offered a smile, "Professor Flitwick, greetings!"

"Oh! Felix!" Professor Flitwick seemed very excited; he was almost on the brink of fainting.

"Hogwarts' prodigious graduate returns to the school! How wonderful! I still remember your outstanding performance in the NEWTs Charms exam – flawless, absolutely flawless!"

Professor Flitwick was genuinely thrilled. Despite his small stature, he was full of emotion, and he harbored no bias toward any of the houses.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Professor!"

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The scene rewinds to an hour earlier.

Severus Snape strides into the Headmaster's office, his face tense, but it's evident that he's quite infuriated at the moment.

"Headmaster! Headmaster Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore raises his head from the desk. "Ah, Severus, do you have something on your mind?"

Snape stands before him, not taking a seat. He kicks aside an obstructing chair and, with the desk between them, he asks with a fiery tone, "You brought Felix Harp in to teach at the school? What were you thinking?"

Dumbledore sets aside the book in his hand. "Severus, I don't see any issue. Mr. Harp is exceptionally talented, and his abilities are widely recognized in the wizarding world, including by me."

Snape shows impatience. "I didn't say he lacks ability! I taught him before; I know what kind of person he is."

"Indeed, you've evaluated him as 'a quintessential Slytherin' – quite a high praise," Dumbledore responds with a smile.

Snape's expression darkens. "I wasn't complimenting him," he retorts – it's more of a mockery.

Dumbledore nods. "We both have a certain understanding of Mr. Harp. I also know your concerns. Since he's to teach at Hogwarts, this is a matter worth discussing. Let's sit down and talk it through." He waves his hand, conjuring the chair back.

Snape sits down stiffly, as if there were a fire-breathing dragon cushion beneath him instead of a chair.

"Pumpkin juice? Tea? Or perhaps a glass of butterbeer?" Dumbledore inquires, and with each word, a corresponding cup appears out of thin air.

"I don't need anything," Snape replies, unyielding.

"In that case, a cup of tea. Mr. Harp quite enjoys it." Dumbledore places a cup of tea in front of Snape.

But judging by Snape's expression, he seems to have swallowed a fly.

Dumbledore speaks gently, "Let's have a good talk. I, too, had some misconceptions about Mr. Harp in the past. However, as he grew, my perspective on him evolved. Just recently, after a thorough conversation, I finally made up my mind to hire him."

"I think you've gone senile," Snape sneers.

"Though I might be getting old, I've become more clear-headed over the years. We're prone to making mistakes when we're young, aren't we?"

Snape huffs but remains silent.

Of course, he knows. Back then, Felix's situation was dire, even worse than his own in those days. At least his enemies didn't come from within his own house.

Dumbledore spoke calmly, "Minerva once complained to me, saying that the Sorting Hat doesn't accurately place students into the right houses. She always believed Mr. Harp should have been sorted into Gryffindor. What do you think?"

"That lad is the epitome of Slytherin," Snape said with a mocking tone, repeating the same words from years ago.

"I agree on that point," Dumbledore nodded. "Mr. Harp... he's an exceptional wizard, remarkably so. He's one of the most gifted individuals I've ever encountered. He's always been driven by the pursuit of power, and I see that quite clearly. Even though he's shown it less after his fifth year, he never ceased his quest for power."

"Even after graduation, it's been the same. That's what worried me the most at the time."

Snape listened quietly, not denying Dumbledore's wisdom. The old man's experiences were legendary, and Snape intended to listen first, to understand what had changed his perspective.

"When he applied to stay at the school after graduating, truth be told, he was more than capable. Even in the subject of curses, he outshone even my former self. But I refused, not just because he was too young, but also due to the ambition hidden in his eyes. I feared he might take the wrong path."

"But luckily, he heeded my advice. After his first year of travels, he settled in the Muggle world, delving into Muggle studies. It was during this time that we exchanged letters continuously."

Snape listened silently, not expecting such experiences between the two. Considering his reaction when he learned that Felix had become an expert in Muggle studies, his eyes nearly popped out!

"Perhaps he's masquerading," Snape reluctantly interjected.

"No, no, Severus," Dumbledore countered, "I'm rather skilled at reading people. Longevity has its perks, even without magic, I can discern the thoughts of most people."

"From his enrollment until now, he's shown no prejudice against Muggles. Quite the opposite, his understanding of the Muggle world is profound. His books bear clear evidence of this. He doesn't see wizards as superior beings; instead, he continuously draws wisdom from the Muggle world."

"I didn't say he discriminates against Muggles, Dumbledore! But his ideology is equally perilous. Do you know how he expressed himself in the book 'How Muggles Think'?"

Almost reciting, he swiftly recited a passage: "In the Muggle world, while the nobles make up about one unit, the commoners exceed ten thousand units. And once the rulers emancipate the commoners, their efficiency surges with an unstoppable force, aided by their productivity hundreds and thousands of times greater than before. Abundant resources have provided a solid foundation for the spread of education, and those commoners who lack noble lineage exhibit exaggerated potential, propelling the Muggle world's development like riding on a flying broom."

Seeing Dumbledore about to interject, Snape pressed on, disregarding him, and recited more: "In the Muggle world, if the ratio of aristocrats to commoners is one to a thousand, the power and potential of the commoners outweigh the aristocracy a thousand times over. And once the barriers are shattered, they surge forward with an irrepressible force, their advancements sweeping away all obstructions!"

The Headmaster's office fell silent.

Even the portraits on the walls, including the one that was eavesdropping, had their mouths wide open. While these words seemed to talk only about the Muggle world's progress, they were laden with allusions to the current wizarding world.

One of the portraits was indignant, shouting loudly, "This is betrayal! Betrayal of pureblood honor!"

Other portraits began to chatter as well.

Snape glanced at that particular portrait, sarcastically remarking, "Headmaster Black, that lad isn't pureblood!"

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Headmaster Black's portrait began to rant and rave. Soon, other portraits couldn't bear to watch and joined in, arguing back at him. A hot-tempered former headmaster stormed into his frame, and a brawl ensued.

Dumbledore paid no mind to the portraits. His expression was one of reminiscence. "Mr. Harp does indeed possess remarkable potential."

"To me, that's a declaration of war from a Muggle-born wizard against purebloods. His ambitions are greater than you can imagine. He's the next generation's Dark Lord."

Dumbledore's demeanor grew solemn. "This is a grave accusation, Severus."

"You always trust too easily, Dumbledore," Snape sneered. "Perhaps he won't start a war. I know him; he avoids trouble."

"But as you said, he has immense potential. If I were to name anyone in this century who could rival you and that person, it's only him. Countless will flock to be under his wing, observing every expression, dissecting every word..."

Snape sneered mockingly, "History has its cycles. Maybe this time, the ones following him will be those foolish lions."

"What will they call him? Perhaps, the White Lord?"

"Severus, I never realized you held such deep bias against him." Dumbledore expressed deep surprise.

"Hmph! I've said it before—I understand him more than you think. I taught him for seven years!"

Dumbledore weighed his thoughts and decided to confide, "I did hesitate for a long time. In him, I see the shadow of another person. Similar upbringing in a Muggle orphanage, sorted into Slytherin, similar excellence, a shared pursuit of power..."

"But they are different."

"Voldemort used magic to intimidate peers; Felix rallied companions against bullies. He's still in touch with some of his orphanage friends."

"Voldemort coveted power, forming a group around him during school—an early version of the Death Eaters. Felix, on the other hand, dismisses power. As you said, he dislikes trouble. To sum it up, he doesn't invest effort in things he's not interested in, and power is one of those things."

"Voldemort excelled in school and was polite; he had good relationships with professors. Felix only focused on subjects that interested him. From what I know, he never passed in History of Magic, Divination, Astronomy, or Flying lessons. Though he set a record with his spell scores."

"Voldemort obsessed over power, even delving into Dark Arts during school. He was naturally gifted in that regard. By graduation, his mastery of Dark Magic surpassed the lifelong efforts of some dark wizards."

"And Felix..." Dumbledore hesitated, a rare occurrence. "I must admit, he did study Dark Arts briefly, in the Shrieking Shack. But before I could intervene properly, he abandoned it on his own."

Snape listened in a trance, realizing the headmaster had delved deep into that young man's history. Many stories eluded even him.

Dumbledore summed up, "Valuing friendship, shunning power, dedicated to pursuits, calm and thoughtful—Felix possesses many virtues."

Snape opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say something, but refrained. Instead, he flashed a sardonic smile at the headmaster. "Your 'concern' for students remains intact! Why not tell me more about his experiences in the three years after graduation? Were you hiding in some thicket, spying on him during his travels?"

"Severus, don't be so harsh on an old man." Dumbledore's expression turned pained. But the next moment, his words left Snape dumbfounded. "However, I did visit some of his Muggle colleagues during his time in the Muggle world. Their unexpectedly high praise for Mr. Harp was confirmed, and I ensured there were no traces of magic."

Seeing Snape's jaw drop, Dumbledore blinked. "Severus, you don't really think I'm that naive, do you? Would I appoint him as a Hogwarts professor without proper insight?"

...

When Snape emerged from the Headmaster's office, he admitted that he had been somewhat convinced. That lad didn't seem as bad as he had thought.

Even if he had once threatened him—with his deepest secret.

But as he walked into the Great Hall and saw Felix Harp waving his wand, conjuring a massive snake onto the ceiling, the snake's mouth containing the image of someone who could be found gazing at themselves in a mirror every day, Snape nearly exploded with rage!

He was wrong!

Felix Harp was indeed a rascal!

...

Felix remained unaware of the recent conversation in the Headmaster's office. He hadn't even heard that someone had jokingly bestowed the title of "White Lord" upon him. Did he have that much free time?

He diligently completed his own tasks step by step. During this period, Hogwarts professors returned one after another, and Felix approached them one by one to greet them.

Networking was crucial.

Until a particular person appeared—a handsome wizard dressed in emerald robes that matched Felix's own colors. His hair flowed gracefully, and his teeth gleamed white.

Which Slytherin was this? Why did Felix not remember him?

Felix intended to observe a little longer, but quickly, the wizard approached him. "Felix Harp! I've heard so much about you; I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"And you are?" Felix felt like he recognized this person, but he couldn't place him.

The wizard seemed to hear something unbelievably shocking. His mouth hung open for two seconds, as if petrified, before he swiftly recovered his smile and began to talk, "Felix, you must have been busy with Muggle studies, not paying much attention to the wizarding world. That's alright! Let me reintroduce myself. Trust me, you deserve this honor."

"Please, go ahead," Felix said.

"I," the wizard blinked, "Gerolol Harte. Knight Third Class of the Order of Merlin, Honorary Member of the Anti-Dark Arts Alliance, five-time winner of the Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award. But I won't go around boasting about it; I'm not the type to chase away specters with smiles!"

Gerolol Harte?

Felix remembered now. He had read Harte's biography—an impressive adventurer with considerable experience and wit. But this person seemed somewhat enigmatic, always keeping half of the story hidden, never revealing crucial details.

Felix became intrigued, pondering how to draw some substantial information from him.

"It's Mr. Harte indeed. I've read your works; they are quite remarkable. Your experiences are truly captivating..." Felix began with flattering words, and within three minutes, he had already formed a camaraderie with the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

At the same time, he admired Harte's courage silently. Not concerned about the curse of the Dark Lord, huh?

Felix knew the significance of that course. Despite the perpetual lack of professors at Hogwarts, he wouldn't dare entertain the idea of taking up that job.

Truly, audacity matched his expertise!

However, judging from Harte's experiences in his books, he was undoubtedly an incredibly astute and resourceful wizard, always managing to turn danger into triumph!

It seemed he needed to pay more attention. What did this professor like?

Felix delved into deep contemplation.

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As time passed, the sky gradually darkened.

Above the Great Hall, thousands of candles burned, casting a shimmering universe of stars onto the enchanted ceiling. The tables and chairs were neatly arranged, presenting an orderly display.

All the professors had gathered, including Dumbledore himself. Hagrid was the only one absent, as he was busy welcoming the first-year wizards.

Not far away, Professor Lockhart, Professor Flitwick, and Headmaster Dumbledore stood together, and the entire Great Hall could hear Lockhart praising himself, "Indeed... this is a simple matter, my badges are definitely genuine, ha-ha-ha..."

Felix Harp and Severus Snape were each in their own corners, observing everything happening in the hall.

At this moment, Felix was quite perplexed. Just a while ago, he hadn't expended much effort at all, yet he had guided Professor Lockhart into freely sharing information about himself. Lockhart had been more than willing to talk about his adventurous experiences, as long as you played the role of a good audience on the side.

But the harvest was meager.

Was Lockhart wary of him? It didn't seem like it at all. Could he be an actor? Gathering information through exaggerated words and self-promotion?

Felix was utterly puzzled. Equally puzzling was another professor.

Severus Snape stood in another corner, a mocking smile on his face, directed at someone only he knew.

How had Professor Snape changed like this?

Back when he was a student, he wasn't so brooding and sarcastic, was he?

Had something happened during those three years?

Felix felt that his usually sharp mind wasn't enough. He became more cautious and then joined a conversation with Professor Sprout, discussing magical plants.

"Felix, I must say, you didn't put much effort into Herbology during your school days."

"Professor, I was distracted by other subjects, I was very busy."

"I don't quite think so. Back then, you went to great lengths to ask me about those dangerous plants, inquiring about their weaknesses..." Professor Sprout remembered this vividly.

Well, it was a bit of a black mark. He indeed wasn't interested in Herbology back then.

Could it provide strength?

No? Not a single bit.

So, his Herbology grades were always between A (Acceptable) and P (Poor). However, he was very skilled at dealing with dangerous magical plants and tirelessly worked to find their weaknesses, attempting to resolve them with the least effort.

This was his approach to the Care of Magical Creatures class as well.

One could only say that he had become a bit obsessed during those years.

A commotion came from a distance.

"The students are here!"

Professor McGonagall stood up and hurried away. With Headmaster Dumbledore's guidance, the other professors also took their seats. Felix especially wanted to sit next to Professor Snape, attempting to observe the undisclosed changes that had occurred in him over these years. But Snape deftly avoided him.

Helplessly, Felix aimed for his second target and took a seat beside Lockhart.

It seemed that Professor Flitwick was being quite bothered by Lockhart. Seeing Felix approaching was a relief, and without hesitation, he offered Felix a seat.

Once seated, Felix casually opened the conversation, "Professor Lockhart, your description of vampires in 'Wanderings with Vampires' was brilliant, but I do have a few minor questions..."

This time, Lockhart became visibly uncomfortable. He looked around, avoiding answering the questions directly. Felix wisely changed the topic.

Seems like he's not too fond of me...

The atmosphere turned a bit awkward, but soon Professor McGonagall led the students into the Great Hall. Second to seventh-year young wizards from each house took their seats on either side of four long tables.

However, Professor McGonagall appeared to be in a bad mood. She quickly approached Dumbledore, speaking in a hushed tone. The headmaster's face immediately turned serious. He exchanged a few words with McGonagall, she nodded, and then called for Snape. The two of them left the hall together.

What could be going on? Felix Harp felt curious, but this wasn't the appropriate occasion for magical eavesdropping.

On the other end, the newly-started school year wizards were excited, chattering away, making the whole hall exceptionally lively. The professors, quite open-mindedly, refrained from intervening. Dumbledore's expression grew even more genial, and he observed everything with a twinkle in his eye, stroking his silver beard.

Felix was also interested in scanning the crowd, spotting several familiar faces. After all, he had only graduated three years ago. In other words, any student above the fourth year had crossed paths with him.

Slytherin House.

The tall and muscular Marcus Flint was unabashedly regaling everyone with stories from his summer vacation. His voice carried so clearly that you could hear him from three seats away. Just as he was speaking excitedly, a companion beside him discreetly tugged on his arm.

Marcus Flint grew irritated. What was it? Don't interrupt my act, ugh! Don't interrupt my sharing of exciting experiences!

When his companion tugged at him more forcefully a second time, he finally turned his head, only to see the boy next to him looking utterly terrified, frantically signaling toward the professors' table.

Was something exciting happening?

Another new professor? Well, that was quite ordinary; some subjects have new professors every year, don't they?

Marcus Flint glanced toward the professors' table, scanning the area for an unfamiliar figure.

Ah, there he was, a rather handsome wizard. Was he their new Dark Arts Defense professor?

Nothing too extraordin...

Wait!

Whom did he see?!

Suddenly, Marcus Flint emitted a short, sharp scream, like he'd been bitten by a rat. His expression turned equally terrified, mirroring that of his companion.

It was him!

How could he be here?

For a moment, his already dull mind felt even slower.

Following Marcus Flint's sudden scream, other Slytherins turned their gaze toward the professors' table, then swiftly followed by a collective gasp of shock.

In an instant, more than half of the Slytherin table fell into an eerie silence.

And the remaining small group of lower-year students also noticed the upperclassmen's inexplicable silence, causing them to halt their conversations and stare at their peers in bewilderment.

Malfoy, observing this bizarre scene within his house, felt perplexed. He couldn't help but pull a nearby senior aside, whispering, "What's going on?"

"Shh, keep your voice down!" The senior reprimanded him in a hushed tone, lowering his head to avoid looking at the figure of that man, instead pretending to be deeply engrossed in examining a silver plate.

Then he whispered again, "Draco, keep it down. That man has returned."

"That man? Sir?" Draco was puzzled, it sounded like a nobleman's address.

The senior uttered a few whispered words, "The Battle of '87."

"Whew!" Draco, too, inhaled sharply, unable to resist looking up at the young professor sitting at the professors' table.

Was it him?

As the Slytherins unexpectedly fell silent, students from other houses also noticed their peculiarity.

Hermione had noticed Felix's presence earlier. With her remarkable memory, she immediately recognized him as the peculiar guest from her summer. So, he's a wizard too? No wonder he had such odd requirements!

I wonder what subject he's teaching?

The two unfamiliar faces this year—Lockhart she had already met, having read all his works herself.

His experiences were truly incredible!

The other professor, who appeared quite young, raised her curiosity. She frowned slightly, sensing that the Slytherin students had abruptly hushed down. The other three houses, initially silent, soon exploded into a cacophony of excited discussions, the Great Hall buzzing.

The older students were enthusiastically sharing what they knew, wearing expressions akin to "I have a big secret."

Hermione had initially been worried about Harry and Ron's well-being, but she had already informed Professor McGonagall. It shouldn't be a problem, right?

Hermione inconspicuously stretched her neck, straining to listen.

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In the professor's chamber.

Felix Harp sat there, watching this scene unfold. He felt rather perplexed; had he really done anything terrifying? Why were the Slytherin students so afraid of him? He had been cultivating his character since his sixth year, and these young wizards were, at most, second years. This felt like a smear on his reputation!

If this got out, it would be like a mob boss infiltrating the school disguised as a new, adorable teacher.

The other professors also exchanged curious glances. Most of them had witnessed Felix's "Glorious Seventh Year," though they had graduated three years ago. To maintain such power was truly admirable!

The way they were looking at him made Felix want to punch someone! Dumbledore, on the other hand, maintained his usual cheerful demeanor, as if everything that had just transpired was perfectly normal.

Although time seemed to crawl for Felix, he continued to act as though nothing had happened, engaging in awkward small talk with Lockhart.

Bang, bang, bang!

A thunderous knocking echoed, and the grand doors swung open, revealing a giant entering the room. Behind him, a line of first-year students trailed like quails.

Professor McGonagall, who had previously left, returned. She guided the new students to small stools and placed the tattered Sorting Hat on each stool.

In the next instant, the Sorting Hat burst into song.

Felix couldn't help but smirk; it was still as eccentric as ever...

Once the annual song concluded, the Sorting Hat began its sorting, and one by one, the young wizards donned the hat, awaiting their destiny.

Oh, the memories!

Sorting complete, the entire school began to enjoy their dinner. However, Felix noticed that Professor Snape hadn't returned yet, and no professor mentioned him. Well, Professor Snape's social standing wasn't exactly impressive...

Thankfully, Snape made a midway appearance, putting Felix's worries to rest. The professor hadn't been abducted by some unknown monster, after all.

However, Snape took Professor McGonagall with him. What magical development was this?

Felix let his imagination roam. He was in high spirits, finding even the sight of the translucent Nearly Headless Nick delightful.

A while later, McGonagall and Snape returned. Felix hurried over and pulled McGonagall aside, explaining the teaching techniques he had devised for his upcoming lessons.

"A public lecture?" Professor McGonagall repeated with a hint of skepticism in her gaze.

"Yes, after all, I am a new professor. The first class is vital, and I've spent a lot of time preparing during the holidays. It's a shame to divide it into five different years."

"But if you gather all five years together, they won't learn much."

Felix explained, "My first class doesn't involve any theoretical knowledge. It's a demonstration class— they just need to watch with their eyes. My goal is to showcase the wonders of ancient magical scripts. If they're interested, the rest will be easier to teach."

McGonagall pursed her lips, not fond of breaking traditions. Still, she inquired, "On which day do you plan to hold this public lecture?"

"Thursday afternoon!"

"Very well, I agree." Professor McGonagall displayed a touch of the Deputy Headmistress in her.

"Um..." Felix felt a bit awkward.

"Any other questions, Mr. Harp?"

"Call me Felix," he quickly responded. "Thursday afternoon is a carefully chosen time, but there is a scheduling conflict with one class."

McGonagall sighed. "Whose class is it?"

"Professor Snape's."

McGonagall's eyes widened, and she gave him a stern look. "I'll speak to him about this!"

Felix breathed a sigh of relief.

And so, they dined and dined, continuing their meals...

When everyone had eaten their fill, Headmaster Dumbledore stood up and, under his guidance, everyone sang the school song together before dispersing entirely!

Felix Harp, having eaten and drunk his fill, was prepared to return to his professor's office, watch a movie, and then sleep.

In the upcoming week, all he had to do was prepare for the public lecture. Was there even much to prepare for? Tomorrow, off to the library he'd go! Oh dear Hogwarts Library, how I've missed you!

His daydream was interrupted, this time by Professor McGonagall pulling him aside.

They walked to a corner where three young wizards were already waiting—two boys and a girl, all wearing Gryffindor robes.

Upon approaching, Felix found the situation more interesting. The two boys looked exactly alike, both with furrowed brows, apparently troubled for some reason; as for the girl, he had met her during the summer.

His suspicions were forming.

Were these the assistant candidates he had discussed with Professor McGonagall? In that case, were they the Weasley twins and Hermione Granger?

Indeed, Professor McGonagall first introduced both parties, then named Felix's "assistant (tool)" requirement.

Judging by their reactions, the twins seemed somewhat uninterested, while Hermione Granger appeared to be a bit intrigued but still somewhat reserved.

Surely, being a temporary worker didn't hold much allure?

No, that wouldn't do...

Felix decided he needed to say something; he believed that after he was done speaking, they'd have a complete change of attitude.

Time for my next move!

Felix shot a glance at Professor McGonagall, then cleared his throat a couple of times. He looked at the three young wizards and gently began, "Greetings, I am your newly appointed Professor of Ancient Runes," with a quick glance at Hermione, "possibly your future professor."

Hermione seemed a bit reserved, but the twins were bolder. One of them asked enthusiastically, "Professor, did you really conquer the entire Slytherin House during your time as a student? And did you drive away the Shafiq family?"

Well, Felix was a full seven years older than the twins. He graduated and they began, a seamless transition, a perfect missed connection.

Quite audacious... Felix was rather surprised.

He chose not to address that directly and instead brushed it off lightly, "Hogwarts is known for its bizarre rumors. During my time, I also heard a rumor about a teleportation gate on the eighth floor that connects to Hogmorts!"

Unexpectedly, the twins were visibly disappointed. Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes subtly to the side.

"Let's continue the previous topic. For an extended period— at least until you graduate— I will be teaching Ancient Runes at Hogwarts. Therefore, I plan to mentor an assistant. This assistant would help me with some miscellaneous tasks, like grading papers."

Seeing the twins' lack of enthusiasm, Felix quickly skipped over this uncomfortable part.

"Of course, there are gains to be had. By becoming my assistant, you'll enjoy certain hidden benefits. For instance: extra guidance from me. Apart from Ancient Runes, I'm also skilled in spellcasting, as Professor McGonagall can attest."

"Secondly, extra house points. Being an assistant does take up some of your free time, so I've discussed it with Professor McGonagall, and each semester you'll earn fifty points."

The twins exchanged a glance— one hundred points for a year!

And Hermione's eyes sparkled just as much. In fact, she had been intrigued from the moment she heard the first point.

"Thirdly, the opportunity to be involved in my research. You'll encounter a lot of advanced magical knowledge, things that won't be covered in class."

"Fourth, priority access to my Ancient Runes Club next year."

"Fifth, you'll gain my personal friendship. If you become my assistant, I won't refuse a little help now and then," Felix winked, speaking in a tantalizing tone, "like accessing restricted books in the library, embarking on Forbidden Forest trips on weekends, roaming the castle after lights-out..."

"Cough, cough, cough!" Professor McGonagall suddenly erupted in a violent fit of coughing, as if she were about to cough up her lungs.

"Alright, the last two don't count," Felix lamented, a bit disappointed. During his time as a student, he had strongly wished to do these things openly instead of sneakily—two entirely different experiences.

However, with the preceding benefits, the three young wizards were thoroughly excited.

Indeed, as Felix predicted, after he finished speaking, the twins and Hermione looked expectant, as if they were about to say "I'm in" in the next second.

"Of course, becoming my assistant won't be that easy. All three of you are among the most exceptional in the Hogwarts under fifth year, which is why Professor McGonagall recommended you to me."

"However, there will be necessary assessments," Felix said calmly, like a cunning and seasoned hunter. He withdrew his wand and turned two hairs into parchment and a quill. The quill started writing on the parchment seemingly on its own.

The three young wizards sneakily glanced at it; it seemed to be a very long reading list...

The twins' faces immediately turned bitter, even more so than before.

After the quill finished writing, it silently transformed into flames. Felix then pointed his wand at the parchment, dividing it into three parts that floated toward each of them.

"Here, this is a reference reading list. You can read as much as you can, but by next Monday at the latest, you need to hand in a paper about the history of the development of Ancient Runes."

Felix looked at them with a mischievous glint, "No word limit, but the more, the better; no set structure, but the more, the better; no limit to the number of reference books, and again, the more, the better."

"You have a week."

The three "the more, the better" phrases left them somewhat bewildered, but that wasn't his concern. His expectation was that they would produce at least two pages of parchment, not just extracts, but with their own reflections as well. And they should read through at least half of the suggested books.

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Returning to his private professor's quarters, Felix Harp began arranging the room according to his own ideas. From his suitcase flew items of various sizes, big and small.

Once everything was in place, he watched a movie for entertainment and then contentedly went to bed.

Early the next morning, Felix hurried to the library, wandering among the millennium-old books of Hogwarts.

On the first day of school, there weren't many people there to read. Felix selected an original copy of "Ancient Alchemical Secrets" from the Restricted Section and eagerly started reading.

As expected, forbidden books had their allure; the content inside widened his eyes. He even discovered seven methods for crafting a scrying mirror.

However, his purpose wasn't the alchemical creations in the book. After all, it was quite old, and many things were outdated. What he valued were the ancient magical inscriptions hidden within the alchemical creations.

Ancient magical inscriptions never appeared all at once, nor did they decline suddenly.

In the earliest and untraceable ages, during the savage times of magic, some gifted "individuals" struggled to lay the foundation of the magical edifice. They sought the secrets of magic in magical creatures and plants, unexpectedly discovering patterns that could temporarily store magical power, resulting in marvelous magical effects.

This was the origin of the earliest ancient magical inscriptions.

Through the continuous efforts of numerous pioneers, wizards began to grasp more and more magical inscriptions. This led to the development of powerful ancient magic and ancient alchemy, allowing human wizards to stand out.

At that time, magical inscriptions symbolized power.

As time went on, more and more potential "individuals" were discovered, the number of wizards increased, and they urgently needed a form of writing to record their magical knowledge.

People gathered together, basing themselves on magical inscriptions, and derived a form of ancient script that spread widely. By this point, most magical inscriptions were not imbued with power; they were merely vessels for recording knowledge.

Long ages passed, and new magical inscriptions with potential were discovered one after another. Meanwhile, the original ancient script that had been created continued to evolve and change, undergoing its own evolution all around the world.

This process gave rise to numerous homophones, synonyms, mistranslations, and irregular writings, causing countless troubles for future researchers.

Following this, two significant events deeply affected the wizarding world.

The first was the invention of the wand, which made spellcasting more stable and straightforward.

The second was the emergence of simplified magic derived from ancient magic. While this form of magic might have slightly less power, with the amplification of wands, it was still quite impressive. Importantly, this simplified magic was easier to learn and safer!

And so, over more long years, wizards gradually abandoned magical inscriptions, and they eventually faded into legend.

Today, these magical inscriptions are collectively referred to as ancient magical inscriptions. Many wizards simply view them as a type of writing, with their only purpose being to translate the magical manuscripts left by their predecessors.

Felix wasn't interested in studying ancient history. What he wanted was the "magical" ancient inscriptions or, in other words, the original inscriptions. As for the rest, what were they really for?

But after all, learning was still learning. At least now, he could use them to teach students, right?

Those original inscriptions, whether lost to time or existing within ancient magical tomes, were now gathering dust in some forgotten corner.

As Felix Harp researched, he found that these magical inscriptions were best preserved within the realm of alchemy, even evolving and developing their own logical systems.

From the current state of affairs, magical inscriptions and alchemy had little connection.

However, in terms of historical origins, an alchemical creation often represented an ancient magical inscription circuit or its evolution. This was especially true for the most ancient alchemical creations.

This was exactly what Felix desired!

Currently, he had only mastered a little over two hundred original magical inscriptions and a dozen or so magical inscription circuits.

The road ahead was long and challenging.

A day passed swiftly, and Felix made considerable progress. He had discovered at least six entirely new magical inscription circuits!

If he could break down these circuits, return to their original forms, or rather, return to the original magical inscriptions, he believed his knowledge reserves could increase by at least one-third.

What is referred to as millennium-old heritage?

This was it.

Felix hadn't even eaten all day—well, who needed food when there was knowledge? A bottle of potion could solve everything!

Efficiency could increase by a whopping seven percentage points!

Nobody should bother him.

"Professor Harp!" a low-pitched female voice greeted.

Felix looked up to see Hermione standing next to him, holding a thick book. Glancing at the title, he recognized it as one of the books on his reading list.

And, coincidentally, it was one of his own works— "Exploring Ancient Magical Inscriptions."

Of course, this wasn't a coincidence. Hermione was a very clever witch and was eager to secure the position of "teaching assistant." However, the reading list provided by the professor was just too extensive!

Skimming through the entire list in a week was still possible, but studying in-depth? It was simply impossible.

She had to prioritize one book while using the others as references.

Just now, when she spent half an hour selecting books from the list, she unexpectedly found that one of them was authored by the young professor himself! She immediately determined which book to focus on.

Was there even a need to choose? Anyone who hesitated on this question was clearly a fool!

Felix and Hermione sat in adjacent seats, not disturbing each other, until the closing bell rang.

Hermione yawned without reservation.

"Professor, good night."

Holding the book, she took brisk steps and quickly disappeared.

Felix gingerly stretched his stiff neck. Only now did he realize how hungry he was!

Managing to borrow a book just in time, Felix sauntered into the kitchen. Using "please," "kindly," and "thank you" as the magical keywords, he obtained three pies, a piece of cheese, and a jug of pumpkin juice from his house-elf.

On his way back, he encountered two young Hufflepuff wizards sneaking out to get an extra meal, but he pretended not to notice.

Back in his quarters, he devoured the food hastily before collapsing into bed.

The second day followed suit;

So did the third day;

In the blink of an eye, it was Thursday morning.

Transfiguration class.

Seeing Hermione rushing off right after class, Harry and Ron exchanged glances and hurriedly caught up.

"Hermione, slow down!" they panted.

"What have you been up to lately? Can't see you anywhere these days."

Hermione walked swiftly, responding quickly, "I told you both already, didn't I?"

Harry paused for a moment. He had been busy too, with Quidditch practice. Ron quickly recalled, "You mean, you're preparing to become the new professor's assistant?"

"Exactly! But I'm not the only student candidate."

The three of them arrived at the Potions classroom. Hermione placed her Potions textbook aside and took out another book. She muttered incantations while flipping through it, and the thickness of the book was enough to make Ron and Harry, who weren't exactly scholarly, despair.

"Is this your task? To read through such a thick book?" Ron eyed the book with trepidation.

"It's not just one book, it's twenty!" Hermione answered while scanning, jotting down valuable information rapidly. This was her fourth book so far. Besides Felix's own work, she skimmed through the others, searching for useful passages.

But the number twenty still filled her with some despair, making her quite restless recently.

This chapter took quite a few words to lay out the setting, but it's also essential.

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Soon, Professor Snape strode into the room with brisk steps. As his wand swished through the air, the windows closed tightly and the curtains drew shut. A heavy and eerie atmosphere settled upon the entire classroom, and the young wizards fell instantly silent.

Hermione promptly closed her book, ready to focus on the lesson.

After finishing their first Herbology class of the afternoon, the trio was quite exhausted as they hurried to the Great Hall for the Charms lesson. The hall had transformed significantly; four long tables were moved to the corners, leaving a circular raised platform in the center, about twenty feet in diameter and three feet high.

"What's that?" Ron inquired.

"Perhaps it's where the professor will stand? Seems like there's quite a crowd today," Harry glanced around. Merlin's beard, most of the school's students had gathered, including many first and second-year witches and wizards.

Is he really this popular, or is it another Lockhart situation? Harry mumbled to himself.

While Harry was only thinking that, Ron had already spoken it aloud, muttering, "It couldn't be another Lockhart, could it?"

"No, it's not. I've had contact with Professor Harp, and his nonverbal spells are extraordinary! And unlike Lockhart, he..." Hermione started hesitatingly.

"What kind of spells?" Harry didn't catch that.

"Nonverbal spells. Some particularly skilled wizards can cast various curses without uttering an incantation, making it exceptionally convenient to hex people silently," Ron explained.

Both of them missed the young witch's opinion on Lockhart.

Is there even a need to discuss this matter?

Hermione shot Ron a glance.

Harry, on the other hand, contemplated a bit more. So, this professor sounds promising, then? He felt a bit more anticipation for the upcoming Charms class.

Honestly, neither he nor Ron wanted to come, does this even concern them? They were dragged here by Hermione's insistence; according to her, "It's important for third-years to learn about elective courses in advance, isn't it?"

And Hermione also wanted to assess Felix's teaching abilities. Although she had already read Felix's work, "Exploring Ancient Magical Texts," which had bolstered her confidence in this new professor.

Hmm, just like her confidence in Professor Lockhart.

Ten more minutes passed, during which a steady stream of students arrived. Several professors also joined in, as if it weren't a class but a grand party.

Harry caught sight of Lockhart and quickly lowered his head, avoiding the gaze of this professor caught in "controversy."

Meeting him is never a good thing!

These days, he had been in quite some discomfort. The sources of his distress were threefold: Quidditch training, Lockhart, and a first-year newcomer named Colin Creevey.

Except for Quidditch training, which was both painful and exhilarating, the other two, he did his best to steer clear of!

Right on time, Felix's figure appeared. He was dressed in a light blue robe – the same color as his eyes. His hair was slightly ruffled, and he wore a gentle smile, appearing to be about seventeen or eighteen years old.

He really does resemble Lockhart!

Whispers from many lower-year students filled the air; they were truly taken aback by this appearance.

Felix made his way through the crowd, gracefully leaped onto the platform, wand in hand. He surveyed the surroundings, and gradually, the crowd grew hushed.

In Harry's eyes, the professor used his wand to trace a mysterious symbol. The next moment, his voice resonated in his ears – not loud, but incredibly clear, as if the professor was speaking right beside him.

"We shall officially begin the class."

Felix Harp gazed at the young wizards below. "I, Felix Harp, currently hold the position of professor for the subject Ancient Magical Scripts." He waved his wand, tracing his own name in the air.

Without delay, he posed the first question.

"Who can tell me what Ancient Magical Scripts are?"

Swish!

Instinctively, Hermione raised her hand. Before she could even process it, her body acted on its own.

"Miss Granger," Felix nodded in her direction.

Hermione spoke up, "Ancient Magical Scripts, also known as Ancient Runes, were a type of language used by wizards hundreds of years ago. Ancient wizards used it to record magic. Consequently, modern wizards primarily study how to translate these magical manuscripts. However, Ancient Magical Scripts were also a source of power for ancient wizards."

She added the last sentence after reading "Exploring Ancient Magical Texts."

"Very well, Gryffindor, 5 points."

Felix began to explain the history and evolution of Ancient Magical Scripts. He moved swiftly; these details were not of great importance, at least, not in his estimation.

The young wizards couldn't retain such intricate details anyway.

"You need to remember one thing – Ancient Magical Scripts are a bridge, connecting ancient magic to modern magic, and furthermore, connecting ancient alchemy to modern alchemy."

Seeing the young wizards below buzzing with discussion, Felix nodded in satisfaction.

"But Professor, why do we mostly learn how to translate Ancient Magical Scripts?" a Ravenclaw senior student raised her hand and questioned.

Felix looked at her, "There are primarily two reasons."

"The first reason is that the translation-focused approach is indeed the prevailing viewpoint in the current magical world."

"In my opinion, Ancient Magical Scripts can be divided into two aspects: ancient language and magical text. The former was a language used by ancient wizards, while the latter was a form of power they mastered. However, over the course of many centuries, they blended together, making it difficult for later generations to distinguish between them."

"The former represents the mainstream viewpoint – they inherit and study ancient magical manuscripts. This is genuinely useful; after all, much of our knowledge about ancient wizards comes from these individuals."

"This route is relatively straightforward for beginners; even you, as you are now, can follow it."

"But if you wish to directly harness the power of ancient wizards through Ancient Magical Scripts, it's extremely, extremely difficult. Not only do you need exceptional magical proficiency, but you also require remarkable research skills."

The young wizards listened with a mixture of understanding and confusion. They grasped the gist of it. The study of Ancient Magical Scripts can be approached in two main ways: translation-focused, which is easier to start with and doesn't demand much from the wizard's individual aptitude; and power-focused, which is much harder to pursue, only suited for the elite and scholarly.

Felix paused for a moment, allowing the information to sink in, before smiling and saying, "Returning to the previous question, as for the second reason—because there are no exams for it."

The young wizards suddenly found themselves speechless; this reason was quite strong.

"However, personally, I believe…" Felix continued, "that providing you with practical applications in delving a bit into Ancient Magical Scripts will effectively ignite your enthusiasm for this subject."

"Are you going to teach us ancient magic?" one of the twins exclaimed.

Felix shook his head, "No, ancient magic is renowned for its great power and difficulty to tame. I have no intention of imparting such knowledge to you all. Moreover, my research in this area has only just begun."

"Alright! The theoretical part concludes here. As an introductory class, I won't delve too deep into the specialized knowledge—"

"Next, it's time for a demonstration."

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Upon hearing Felix Harp's words, young wizards were filled with excitement, their curiosity long awakened.

Even the few professors present were quite intrigued.

Professor Snape stood in a corner, wondering what this lad had managed to conjure and dared to interrupt his class time!

Professor Flitwick was positively thrilled. He adored charms, true enough, but his expertise in ancient runes was not deep. As for Felix's view on ancient magic, he agreed wholeheartedly. He possessed a few potent ancient spells himself, though rarely employed.

Lockhart, on the other hand, envied Felix standing at the center of the auditorium. Wouldn't he garner more attention if he hosted a public class?

If he included this scene in his new book...

But what should he do? Perform a theatrical act?

As each person in the room entertained their own thoughts, Felix Harp swiftly waved his wand, causing all the candles in the auditorium to extinguish instantly. The sky on the ceiling vanished too, cloaking everything in darkness.

The entire hall was plunged into pitch black.

"Flicker Luminos." Felix's voice resounded clearly in the ears of everyone present, quieting even the restive young wizards. "This is a commonly used spell that illuminates the surroundings—quite simple, even young wizards not yet enrolled can master it through self-study."

Bathed in the shimmering light of Flicker Luminos, the outlines of Felix's figure became vaguely visible.

"After you've mastered this incantation fully, you can make alterations to it—"

"Such as intensifying the brightness," with Felix's words, the glow from the tip of his wand expanded to encompass the entire platform;

"Changing the color," the sphere of light shifted from white to red, green, yellow, cyan...

"Or, casting it outward." Felix swung his wand, and the light ball shot far away from the wand's tip, tracing an arc in mid-air.

The hall descended into darkness again, "And the corresponding ancient magic for it—"

Following that, people heard the pronunciation of an odd word. In the next moment, a massive burst of light emanated from the center of the platform. Milky-white radiance enveloped the entire auditorium. Strangely, the light seemed to come from all directions, leaving no trace of shadows.

"This is the Illuminative Charm," Felix murmured softly.

Each young wizard in the audience erupted into thunderous applause.

Felix Harp's lips curved into a smile. "This is just a simple example, but even so, we can perceive the difference." Once more, he swung his wand, reigniting the candles, and the ceiling reverted to its initial state.

"Modern magic is bounded by limits of power and intensity, fluctuating within certain ranges—yet we can still clearly perceive this."

"Ancient magic, however, is different. It's straightforward, crude even, with its potency often determined by the size of your magical power."

"For instance, if I wished, I could use this magic to illuminate all of Hogwarts."

A student in the crowd shouted, "Professor, I want to learn this!"

Felix Harp found himself inexplicably amused, his voice tinged with a humor he could hardly suppress, "Give up that idea. If you manage to learn this spell, it would drain your magical power in an instant."

"Who remembers what I said just now? Ancient magic is renowned for its immense power and difficulty to control. Most of you probably recall only the first half."

"But the second half is what matters!"

Underneath the platform, the students buzzed with conversation, their faces lit up with intense excitement, as if they were on the cusp of mastering powerful ancient magic.

However, it was a shame that books documenting ancient magic were located within the restricted section of the library.

Ron's face lit up with a peculiar gleam. "I want to learn this! I must master this spell! It's just too cool!"

Harry, too, was lost in reverie. A simple Flicker Luminos, replaced with ancient magic, and it held such power. What if it were another spell? Like Hermione's previously used Petrificus Totalus – could it truly petrify a person, turning them into stone?

Professor Snape maintained his usual expression, but that power...

So, Dumbledore and the Dark Lord, did they indeed wield potent ancient magic?

Felix Harp waved his wand, shooting out streams of red sparks from its tip, recapturing the students' attention.

"Next, we proceed with the next demonstration, the crux of this public class, and certainly a part of this year's Ancient Runes course assessment—"

"One of them," he deliberately paused.

The students' somewhat calmed hearts flared with excitement once again.

Are they really doing an open-book exam?

At that moment, Felix Harp jumped down from the platform. "Bring forth the toy box!" With his incantation, a suitcase swiftly flew over, landing on the ground and then "pop!" it snapped open. Over a dozen figures flew out, settling on the platform and freezing in place.

Only now did everyone realize that those standing on the platform were actually miniature figures, around half a foot tall (about 15cm). These figurines each had unique appearances—men and women, old and young, every one brimming with distinctiveness.

"This is... hey! I've played this game!" Justin, a Muggle-born wizard, suddenly exclaimed, his face turning red. He hadn't expected to see action figures at Hogwarts, and ones that moved, at that!

Harry also felt a sense of familiarity, as if his cousin Dudley had mentioned something about it.

"What's this?" Ron, beside them, inquired. Being pure-blood, he had no idea what these things were. Just moving dolls, what was so astonishing about that?

"These are characters from a Muggle world's fighting game," Harry pondered, searching his memory to provide more information, but unfortunately, he hadn't played it either.

"A fighting game?" Ron's curiosity was piqued by this term, clearly more interested.

Felix Harp chuckled. "It seems some have recognized them. Indeed, the inspiration for these figurines' appearance comes from a Muggle game. However, that's not our focus today."

Felix waved his wand again, causing two of the figures to leap high onto the platform and stand at its center. The other figurines stepped back to the edges.

"Does anyone know their names?"

"Fire Boy and Ice Girl!" Justin shouted, this was his domain!

Felix Harp continued, "And do you know their abilities?"

"Fire and ice!" Justin rushed to answer again, his enthusiasm evident.

Felix repeated, "Fire and ice... Well then!" He waved his wand once more.

The figures on the platform immediately sprang to life. Fire Boy's right index finger burst into bright yellow flames. As he swung his hand forcefully, the flames expanded into a fireball the size of a Quaffle and shot far away... half a meter, then exploded with a resounding boom.

Wizards closer to the platform instinctively took a step back. Seeing the fireball not leave the platform, they relaxed, their gazes now hotly fixated on the figurines.

They wanted to play, and they wanted their own.

On the other side, Ice Girl kicked, displaying a graceful and fierce posture. A row of ice-blue icicles shot forth, causing some young witches' eyes to shine.

Awww, they're so cute!!! I really want to hold them!

Felix Harp wore a smile that seemed to control the entire room—

"Next, we need a battle!"

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The Great Hall of the school fell into a hushed silence. Every student's gaze was fixed on the raised platform, fearing they might miss the slightest detail.

A fierce battle was unfolding there.

Palm-sized figurines moved like the wind, their forms agile, each punch and kick accompanied by bursts of fire and billowing ice crystals. Every so often, one of them would unleash a certain "ultimate move," like the Fire Boy's massive fireball or the Ice Girl's icy spikes, elevating the fiery atmosphere to new heights.

After three minutes, the battle concluded as Fire Boy, using a series of flaming combos followed by the "Concealment Charm: Transfiguration into a Phoenix," defeated Ice Girl.

Many young wizards let out a collective sigh.

They had wanted to see the charming Ice Girl triumph...

Felix Harp's explanatory voice came in at the right moment, "This is a branch that has evolved from the ancient magical script, known as alchemy."

"What you're witnessing is a not-so-complex alchemical creation, a magical puppet. The exterior is not the key; the crucial part lies in the ancient magical script circuitry within."

"And the ancient script circuitry is essentially a combination game of magical writing."

"Your practical final exam will be centered around this."

Initially enthusiastic young wizards now appeared bewildered. Make them do this? Professor, are you perhaps overestimating us?

You've just arrived; you might not understand our actual situation yet...

Let's hope for someone less skilled to give the professor a taste of reality.

"Of course, this magical puppet might be too complex for you all right now. But luckily, the ancient magical script involved in creating a magical puppet essentially covers the content of five years' worth of studies. I will divide the difficulty according to your respective years."

"I will provide more detailed requirements in the upcoming classes."

The young wizards finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"But Professor!" a Hufflepuff girl raised her hand to ask.

"I'm a fifth-year student, and the ancient magical script I've learned so far has mostly been focused on translation. Do I need to learn new knowledge? Also, I have my OWLs exams this year..."

"I understand," Felix Harp calmly responded, "First and foremost, you don't need to learn entirely new material. I've reviewed your textbooks. Please have some confidence in your professors."

Felix threw in a playful remark.

"Moreover, I must emphasize that Professor Babbling is an excellent specialist in ancient magical scripts. The material she chose is quite fitting. It includes both theoretical translation aspects and a small amount of practical magical writing—though, perhaps Professor Babbling considered that the Ancient Runes course isn't Alchemy, thus she didn't delve into that part extensively."

"But consider this as a foundation; if you aspire to study more advanced subjects in the future, these basics will guide you past the initial hurdles."

Many young wizards relaxed their tension.

"Secondly, at least for this year, the practical exam will be mainly for extra points. Furthermore, I will also take into account providing more theoretical instruction in your fifth and seventh years."

Among the young wizards in the audience, some were pleased, while others let out disappointed groans.

"Lastly, some of you might worry that practical exercises will consume too much time. However, these two aspects complement each other. You might unknowingly grasp more knowledge through these activities."

"This concludes my response." Felix Harp gave a bow.

Thunderous applause echoed through the audience.

"Next, we have approximately half an hour left. Who would like to personally try controlling these magical puppets in combat?" Felix Harp inquired.

This hardly qualified as a question.

The young wizards' excited shouts could have blown the ceiling off.

"Oh, you might not be able to accurately control the puppets with wands, so you'll need this!" Felix Harp waved his wand, summoning twelve peculiar gadgets from his briefcase—essentially, they were game controllers.

"You can use these to control the puppets. Let me demonstrate first..."

It didn't take long for the students to start manipulating them. Felix conjured six platforms using Transfiguration, but given the hundreds who had attended today, not everyone could take turns.

Ron and Harry lucked out with a chance. They engaged in amateurish pecking at each other, occasionally releasing an "ultimate move" and excitedly shouting.

Yet no one laughed at them; even the little witches were utterly enchanted, shrieking in exaggerated excitement.

Felix Harp stood on the sidelines, discussing the day's lesson with Flitwick.

"Absolutely brilliant!" That was Flitwick's assessment.

As for Professor Snape, he had silently slipped away. No one knew when he left, just as no one knew when he arrived.

Lockhart, on the other hand, wore a heavily pensive expression, his thoughts inscrutable.

Joyful moments are always fleeting. As the lesson drew to a close, some students, lured by their hunger, entered the Great Hall to discover a raging dueling scene. A brief glance was enough to make them forget their initial purpose, and they swiftly joined the crowd gathered to watch.

This delayed dinner by half an hour, compelling Felix Harp to reluctantly conclude the lesson and restore the hall to its original state.

Throughout the dinner, the young wizards continued animatedly discussing the recent public lesson. Particularly lucky students who got a chance to duel were positively beaming, enthusiastically sharing their "experience." Forks and knives danced in their hands as if they had stepped into the scene themselves.

One has to admit, the young wizards' entertainment options are indeed limited.

At the Gryffindor table, Ron was still energetically recounting the "epic showdown" with Harry. Despite his minor disadvantage, he was defeated; his enthusiasm remained undeterred.

"Harry, the Fire Boy I used just now was so cool, swoosh! Kapow!" Ron waved his fork and flung a pumpkin pasty, which smacked Neville on the head.

Although Harry wasn't as animated as Ron, he was equally exhilarated.

However, he had a vague notion—an idea that compared to controlling magical puppets, he'd prefer to be out on the field, participating in duels himself...

Hermione, on the other hand, was somewhat discontented. She hadn't had a turn yet. She liked the Ice Girl a lot—so adorable, much like a doll she had as a child.

But there will be more chances!

Once she becomes Professor Harp's assistant, she'll surely get to interact with that puppet.

Hermione cheered herself on.

What's more, she could even craft her own magical puppet, using herself as the template, albeit with smaller teeth and smoother hair...

This unique public lesson undeniably succeeded, cementing Felix Harp's fame. He was the talk of the town, the center of attention!

Discussions about this lesson were bound to persist for quite some time, perhaps even turning into a campus legend, like countless rumors do, morphing into who knows what in the end.

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Friday.

A new day dawned, and young wizards continued to enthusiastically discuss yesterday's class, a wave of excitement that crashed upon the school like a tumultuous sea, injecting a powerful dose of vitality into their mundane campus lives.

What were they discussing a few days ago?

The perfectly handsome Professor Lockhart?

But now that news has been swept away by the rain and wind, not just because Lockhart's performance in class was disappointing — even the term "disappointing" was a result of some die-hard fans controlling the narrative.

More importantly, Professor Harp has become the idol professor of the new generation, subtly trending towards replacing the "heartthrob" title held by Professor Lockhart.

This has left a certain Dark Arts Defense professor quite annoyed.

Lockhart paced around his office, his once flowing and gentle golden hair now a bit limp. The dozen or so portraits hanging in the office displayed matching expressions of irritation.

"I must come up with a solution, yes, a solution... Merlin's beard! He's truly a master of stealing the spotlight!"

Before coming to Hogwarts, he believed that only the famous Harry Potter was qualified to contend for the headlines of the Daily Prophet. He was mentally prepared for that. But now, he had to admit that he had encountered a formidable competitor.

This reminded him of the detestable Rita Skeeter. A few years ago, he also vied against that Skeeter for the title of best-selling author. Although he lost in the end, it was because that woman cheated, revealing his dark history from his school days in the newspaper!

However, he wasn't one to be trifled with either. Didn't Skeeter know how unpopular he was during his school days?

Professor Lockhart loosened the tight robes around his chest. Those were truly passionate and fiery times! He felt his fighting spirit rekindling.

"A formidable opponent, eh?" He stopped in front of a full-length mirror, pumping himself up. "Gilderoy, you're facing a battle right now. Someone wants to outshine you! What will you do?"

Seeing himself in the mirror, he felt somewhat at ease. With a face this handsome, how could he possibly lose?

Leaving aside the incident that occurred in this small office, in the wider wizarding community, Felix's popularity index had soared to new heights, and everyone was looking forward to his official lectures.

"Perhaps he'll continue the magical puppet duels in class? Remember, many people didn't get a turn yesterday." Ron, with a beef pasty in his left hand and a fork stabbing a potato in his right, didn't let his mouth rest either.

"Maybe, but we're only in our second year, Ron. Remember?" Harry responded more sensibly.

Ron widened his eyes, "Harry, you've shattered my first dream of the year." He bumped his arm against him, "Do you know what I was thinking? I was just imagining using a magical puppet to knock Malfoy senseless..."

Ron closed his eyes, making a dreamy expression, "Malfoy's robes caught fire from a big fireball, he tried to dodge, but it was useless. My magical puppet was too fast! He wanted to cast curses, but it was useless too, because the magical puppet was too small and he couldn't aim!"

Harry silently ate his pasty. He felt that only Ron would struggle to aim, given that his wand had broken in half.

Hermione, who was eating breakfast while reading a book on the side, lifted her head and corrected, "Ron, I must remind you that Professor Harp mentioned in the class that the magical puppets release only basic flames for the safety of young wizards. Their power is nothing compared to the roaring flames of our own Fire-Lion Spells."

Ron seemed to be choked by his beef pasty suddenly, unable to say a word. He didn't remember Professor Harp saying that, but Hermione was usually right about these things. He mumbled quietly, "It's your Fire-Lion Spell, neither Harry nor I can do it. I think you forgot."

Hermione hmphed.

"Aren't you supposed to be reading? Haven't you finished?"

"I think I told you just yesterday, I have twenty books on my reading list!"

Ron fell silent.

Harry became interested in what Hermione was saying and couldn't help asking her, "Hermione, how much do you know about this professor? Ron and I missed the start-of-term feast." He was referring to their adventure in Mr. Weasley's flying car, which spanned a good portion of Britain.

As a result, he and Ron had to nervously hide in Snape's dungeon, fearing expulsion. Fortunately, they weren't expelled from school, and they didn't lose any House points. Professor McGonagall even provided them with food.

However, with such an incident, returning to the feast openly was impossible. Ron had missed his younger sister Ginny's Sorting ceremony because of it.

Hermione rapidly and fluently provided the information she had heard at the feast, "Professor Harp graduated from Hogwarts, Slytherin House —"

"Slytherin!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, but Hermione gave him a fierce glare, and he lowered his head to nibble on a pastry.

"Yes, Slytherin. He's nine years older than us and has just graduated three years ago. However, he's quite famous. The older students at school know him well. Professor Harp excels in Ancient Runes, spells, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, and of course, dueling."

"Dueling?" Harry was taken aback. In his mind, Professor Harp clearly wasn't a fraud like Lockhart, but he also appeared refined, somewhat like a teacher he had at his Muggle school.

It was hard for him to associate Professor Harp with the word "dueling."

"That's right." Hermione glanced left and right, then lowered her head and lowered her voice cautiously, "It's said that he's a Muggle-born and he arrived at Hogwarts just after the downfall of You-Know-Who. The Slytherin students weren't very friendly to him initially, but... "

"But what?"

"But he fought back fiercely with spells. The older Slytherin students are scared of him because he's given them a lesson."

Harry and Ron had dreamy expressions on their faces.

Honestly, they also wanted to give a few Slytherins a lesson.

But the rumors Hermione heard were obviously wrong. By now, Felix Harp was in his fifth year when the current seventh-year students entered Hogwarts. Did he really have a reason to give them a lesson? Naturally, there would be someone to teach them how to behave.

During Potions class, the young wizards were still discussing the previous day's Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Harry could clearly see Draco Malfoy in the group of Slytherin students, loudly boasting about his "relationship" with himself and Professor Harp, claiming they had a close connection.

Harry couldn't help but think, perhaps it was a "beating-up" kind of connection.

Ron was also enthusiastically describing the scene of his magical puppet duel in the previous day's lesson. From his words, it sounded as if he and Harry were engaged in a live duel, not the magical puppets.

"Silence!"

Snape's voice echoed from the back of the classroom, instantly silencing the young wizards. This professor walked with an air of intimidation, his black robes making a "swishing" sound, and his presence had a 10 intimidation factor.

He surveyed the room, his gaze settling on Harry Potter, causing him to tense up. However, Snape shifted his gaze away. This time, he fixed his eyes on Ron and mockingly said with his characteristic low voice, "Ronald Weasley... yes, you've certainly been quite the spectacle these past few days. However, you should focus on improving your abysmal Potion grades. I don't want to see another 'T' on your end-of-term exam."

Slytherin students burst into laughter in unison.

Ron's face turned crimson, and he gripped his broken wand taped back together. He looked like he wanted to curse Snape on the spot.

"And Miss Granger, put away that extracurricular book of yours. This is Potions class, not Ancient Runes. You still have a year before electives."

Hermione reluctantly closed her book.

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The Library

Felix Harp was engrossed in his book, his ears oblivious to the world beyond the windows. The events of the previous day's class didn't seem to have affected him, even though he was the direct cause of the uproar.

With his left hand flipping through the pages and his right hand wielding his wand with precise movements, ancient runes appeared and dissipated in the air. Madam Pins, casting watchful glances, had been observing Felix for over half an hour.

Madam Pins was a thin and elderly woman who seemed somewhat malnourished. However, she was well-suited for her role as the librarian due to her deep love for books and keen instincts, always quick to spot and punish any students breaking the rules.

If a student dared to brandish a wand and gesticulate in the library, she would promptly escort them out. But Felix was a professor, which left her somewhat hesitant.

Fortunately, Felix soon left with two books, relieving her of her dilemma.

Returning to his office, Felix took out a piece of chestnut wood from his briefcase. Magic flowed from his wand through the carving knife, etching ancient runes onto the chestnut's surface.

Chestnut wood was a material for crafting wands, but it was neutral in nature, like a blank canvas, and not overly expensive. Felix had unearthed it to practice ancient runes.

The enchanted carving knife left magical symbols on the chestnut's surface. Each time a complete rune was etched, it burst into a searing red light before fading, leaving behind black markings.

Felix's speed in engraving runes was remarkable, causing the chestnut's surface to shimmer incessantly. The carving knife danced through the air, as if he were not engraving runes, but composing an enduring epic.

After a few minutes, Felix filled the surface of the chestnut, and he swept his wand across it, causing a thin layer to peel off and fly to the other side of the table.

He then resumed with the carving knife, continuing to work on the chestnut.

When the chestnut had shrunk by three inches, he paused and stretched. In one corner of the table, thirty thin wooden pieces were stacked, resembling a collection of black ancient runes on pages.

Felix calculated a number in his mind and nodded in satisfaction, "272 runes, that's the power I currently possess."

Leisurely rising, he stood by the window and looked out, convinced that his decision to return to Hogwarts was absolutely right.

This is the life I wanted!

"Swoosh~"

An owl flew in through the window, dropping a letter onto the table.

Felix opened the envelope, his brows furrowing as he read.

It was a letter from an "old friend."

Though only three years had passed since Felix graduated, and he had only been actively adventuring for a year, his rich experiences had broadened his perspective enough to be considered "well-traveled." He could pinpoint the closest magical black market to him even with his eyes closed, no matter where in the world he was.

This letter came from a "friend" he had made in one of these markets.

Felix took out parchment and hastily penned a few lines, arranging to meet this friend at the Hog's Head Inn on Saturday.

As the owl flew away, he pondered the friend's intentions.

He recalled their first meeting.

The man went by the name of Kline, always wearing a hood on his robes that shrouded his face in perpetual mist, making it impossible to discern his true identity.

Kline operated on the principle of fair trade. He had connections to rare magical manuscripts, wondrous potions, magical creatures, and more.

Felix had traded with him seven times, both adhering to the rules of their transactions.

Thus, he was curious about Kline's intentions in seeking him out. Of course, even more intriguing was what kind of inventory this friend had acquired lately.

Saturday morning at ten o'clock.

Felix Harp arrived at the Hog's Head Inn. It was early, and there was only one patron present.

Approaching the table where the patron sat, Felix saw the familiar mist-shrouded face and sat down with a smile. As he settled in, their forms flickered in and out of view, and their voices became entirely sealed off from the outside world.

"Kline."

"Felix." It was a neutral voice, impossible to discern as male or female, or to determine an age.

The wizarding world was no stranger to such enigmatic figures, each with their own reasons. They might be dark wizards, individuals evading enemies, or perhaps just indulging in some peculiar predilections.

"What brings you to me?"

"Information gathering."

"What kind of information?"

"The relics of the Second Dark Lord."

Felix remained silent for a few seconds, his mind working swiftly.

"Alright, but you must tell me your source first."

Kline tapped his finger on the edge of the table, seemingly weighing the decision, but he soon offered a single word, "Vagadu."

"You've consulted that bunch of mad priests?" Felix was somewhat surprised. Vagadu was a magical school in Africa, where wizards had only begun using wands in the 20th century, resulting in their development taking a distinct path from other countries.

For instance, they practiced a branch of prophecy magic known as witch priests, colloquially referred to as mad priests.

This form of prophecy magic was essentially a form of dark magic, with each prophecy extracting a cost—such as the loss of a limb.

Most importantly, these prophecies weren't always accurate...

When Kline mentioned Vagadu, Felix could only think of this, as there was no interaction between Africa and the British Isles.

"Go on," Felix urged. His interest was piqued, as Kline would never resort to amateur witch priests. A skilled witch priest capable of producing prophecies would demand a considerable price.

"The prophecy states that the relics of the Dark Lord will remain at Hogwarts for a year."

A chill ran down Felix's spine. "What specific relic?"

"I'm not sure, only that it's exceedingly malevolent."

Felix was somewhat exasperated. "Malevolent, huh? Do you think you're Voldemort?"

Seemingly detecting Felix's skepticism, Kline added, "The prophecy I sought concerned the secret of the Vanishing of Death."

In an instant, Felix engaged Occlumency, appearing "astonished" as he asked, "Could you repeat that?"

"The Vanishing of Death."

"But the Dark Lord is already dead."

"The prophecy remains."

"You could check for yourself."

"Hogwarts has Dumbledore."

"Are you afraid of him?"

Kline chuckled softly. Although Felix couldn't see the expressions behind Kline's mist, he sensed that the man wasn't in a good mood.

Felix feigned a pensive expression before finally saying, "Thank you for the intel, but I can't promise that I'll obtain the relic. I can only promise that I won't betray you. I'll personally tackle the Dark Lord's secret."

Kline contemplated for a moment and then replied, "Agreed."

They extended their hands, their index fingers touching, and a golden pattern bloomed.

This was a temporary magical contract, valid for a year. There wouldn't be dire consequences if Felix breached it, except that Kline would always know his location!

If you weren't afraid of the retaliation of a mysterious wizard, you could certainly breach the contract.

Many readers might have questions, so let me explain further.

In the agreement, what qualifies as unlocking the Dark Lord's secret?

Touching the diary, having a chat, or even destroying it—all of that doesn't count as research, as it would be meaningless for both parties in the contract.

Who would care about the decibel level of the sound emitted when a Horcrux is destroyed?

The content of the contract, to be direct, revolves around the knowledge of creating Horcruxes. Nothing more.

Changing this would have lost the charm of dialogue in the novel. This was my mindset when writing.

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Felix Harp stepped out of the Hog's Head Inn, exhaling a long breath.

Never underestimate anyone!

Look at that, even a dark wizard harbors ambitions of glimpsing the Dark Lord's secrets. Is one's own ideal of "exploring the essence of magic" perhaps too modest?

Felix pondered this seriously, ultimately concluding that his own ideals were loftier.

As for the contract with Crane, contract be damned!

Stirring up trouble right under Dumbledore's nose, did he think he was invincible?

Moreover, he had long known the answer to the problem.

What was the secret of Voldemort's leap into death? Horcruxes, of course—Felix had some concept of that. So, as long as he refrained from researching Horcruxes, the contract would naturally dissolve after a year.

Because the prophecy stated, "The Dark Lord's relic shall stay at Hogwarts for only a year," which meant it was but a passing guest. Hence, the contract between them only needed to last a year—this was Crane's idea.

Felix, on the other hand, speculated that the relic had probably been destroyed by the main group of characters.

The main group of characters never had a peaceful year at school, maybe he would only find tranquility after they graduated.

Yet this also reminded him that this year's "plot" crisis came from Voldemort's relic, the Horcrux.

Which one of the Horcruxes could it be?

This was the question Felix had been pondering since he returned to his office.

He vaguely remembered that there were seven Horcruxes in total, mostly relics of the Hogwarts Four Founders, which conveniently matched Harry and his friends' seven-year school career. Did that mean one Horcrux would be destroyed each year?

Ravenclaw's Diadem, Slytherin's Locket, Hufflepuff's Cup—these he knew. So, by that logic, Gryffindor's Sword was also a Horcrux?

Then, which one was destroyed last year? The first book seemed to be called "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," so, was the Philosopher's Stone a Horcrux?

Felix guessed irresponsibly.

The information at his disposal was quite useless, firstly because he couldn't prove what he said, as he didn't know where Voldemort had hidden the Horcruxes; secondly, it was too taboo. Felix himself was already in a precarious position, and suddenly revealing to Dumbledore that he was researching Horcruxes... well, that would not be wise, would it?

So, he decided to let things take their course, at most giving a nudge.

This also counted as a favor to his assistant (a tool), Miss Hermione Granger.

Yes, this assistant position had already been reserved for her, for reasons that were hard to put into words.

The only two remaining candidates had already dropped out: the Weasley twins had found him yesterday and voluntarily withdrawn. Because they were busy with Quidditch training this week, and they anticipated spending every weekend of the coming year on it.

From what Felix gathered, they were implying that he should put Wood, the guy named Wood, in detention for a year. That way, they'd have time to do other things.

Could he agree to that? Professors using their authority for personal gain, is that how it goes?

The main issue was the terms hadn't been settled; the time they were asking for was just too long!

For no reason at all, to lock a student in detention for a whole school year—Snape wouldn't even do that.

This left Felix rather speechless. He had initially intended to do a favor for Professor McGonagall, and it had turned into this.

Were there any promising candidates in the other houses...?

Fortunately, Miss Granger was extremely reliable. He saw her in the library every day, and it was clear she was working tirelessly, her eyes sporting three pluses of darkness.

The next day, in the library.

Another unremarkable day, Felix chose a book titled "Duelling Chronicles" from the Restricted Section and read it with relish.

This book mainly records the hidden stories of various wizarding duels throughout history. The reason it's in the Restricted Section is due to the presence of numerous mature-rated scenes. In the era when magic laws were less stringent, dark magic thrived due to its rapid learning curve, immense power, and eerie mystique. Thus, dueling back then was both bloody and brutal, and often quite bizarre.

For instance, in one image Felix Harp saw, an unfortunate wizard's head was irreversibly "pumpkinized." Not in the sense of inflating to the size of a pumpkin, but turning completely into a "vegetative state."

What's even more miraculous was that the loser remained alive, only dying three years later.

The book also contained various combat techniques, some quite extreme. Felix even came across methods of integrating curses into ordinary spells.

New skills acquired!

As noon approached, Felix left the library, ready to enjoy his lunch.

On the other side, Hermione hesitated briefly before resolutely following.

"Professor! Professor Harp."

Felix halted his steps. "Is there something you need, Miss Granger?" He hadn't informed Hermione that she was the sole candidate for the assistant position. Acquiring more knowledge was never a bad thing.

"Well, you see, I read from a book that some exceptionally gifted wizards can hear things others can't. Is that true?" Hermione asked, her breath steady.

Felix was taken aback. Could it be about The One Who Knows? But he quickly discarded that unlikely idea.

"Could you be more specific? Your conditions are quite broad."

Hermione thought for a moment and then carefully organized her words. "It's a short story, about a young wizard and... his father, transcribing materials in a castle. Suddenly, the young wizard hears something strange, but his father knows nothing about it!"

Strange, why did Hermione always hesitate on the word "father"?

The thought flashed through Felix's mind, and he considered it seriously before answering, "Many of these stories are actually fabricated, so what you heard might not necessarily be true. However, we can discuss it for now."

Hermione nodded eagerly.

"The first possibility is that the young wizard is lying, hoping to gain his father's attention. That sort of thing is quite common in the Muggle world," Felix began with what he believed to be the most likely answer.

Seeing Hermione about to interject, he shook his head. "The second possibility is that they were transcribing dangerous magical materials. You see, some ancient magical manuscripts contain magical power or have been treated by their previous owners. Unauthorized contact can easily lead to dangerous consequences."

Seeing Hermione deep in thought, he added, "The Hogwarts Restricted Section holds quite a few books of this sort."

But they're all bound by magical chains, and young wizards are strictly forbidden to peek—unless you have the professor's handwritten signature.

"The third possibility," Felix slightly raised his voice, "is that the young wizard awakened some sort of gift, such as prophecy, perception, or perhaps suddenly gained proficiency in a certain language."

"Could you elaborate, Professor?"

"Well, you know, some young wizards possess extraordinary gifts, like affinity for animals or exceptional wandless magic skills. Rarer still is the gift of prophecy; Professor Trelawney's ancestors apparently had this gift... Oh, Professor Trelawney teaches Divination; you might take her class next year."

"As for language aptitude, it's often linked to their ancestry. If their ancestors were skilled in, say, Mermish, this aptitude might be passed down to the next generation or suddenly appear in their bloodline centuries later."

Felix offered a casual example, "For instance, the young wizard in your story might have had ancestors who spoke Mermish, and that day he happened to overhear some chatty Mr. Rat's ramblings."

Hermione continued pondering even after Professor Harp's figure had left. Could it be that Harry's ancestors included an eccentric wizard who could speak Rat? She felt rather baffled.

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"Absolutely, positively, no way!"

When Hermione relayed Felix Harp's words to Harry and Ron, Harry countered with annoyance.

He couldn't bear to admit that he had an ancestor who understood the language of rats!

Harry felt that he had a miserable first week of school. Flying over Britain in a car and being locked in detention, the forced encounter with Lockhart, the crazy run-in with photography enthusiast Colin, and on top of that, the demanding Quidditch training...

And then, yesterday, he was in detention again, having to write back to Lockhart's fans, one letter after another, endlessly, for a whole four hours!

But that wasn't the worst part. In Lockhart's office, he heard disjointed phrases, "kill you... tear apart... death..."

When he told his two friends about this today, their expressions were as if he had finally lost it. And then Hermione volunteered to inquire with Professor Snape, and the answer she got made him slightly unhinged.

"That's not necessarily the case, mate. I've heard similar rumors," Ron whispered, taking a plump rat out of his pocket. The rat looked somewhat dispirited. "You can try, talk to Scabbers!"

Ron held Scabbers with both hands and presented him to Harry, his eyes filled with expectation.

Harry had to lower his head and lock eyes with the rat. "Can you understand what I'm saying?"

Scabbers rolled his eyes and turned his body away, refusing to look at him.

"Harry, don't speak human language! You just spoke human language," Ron advised.

Harry: "..." Even though I know what you mean, could you be a bit more refined?

He tried more than a dozen times, but the rat showed no reaction. "It's not working!" He let out a big sigh of relief.

Luckily, things didn't take the worst turn.

Hermione, observing the recent farce, reminded, "Harry, Professor Snape was just giving an example; there could be other possibilities."

Ron had a different opinion, "Apart from rats, what else is there in the castle? It can't possibly be insects, right?"

This speculation was even more terrifying. Harry shivered, quickly using his wits to change the subject.

"Maybe it's snakes!"

"Snakes?"

Ron and Hermione suddenly fell silent, exchanging strange looks.

"You mean, you can talk to snakes?" Ron swallowed nervously.

Harry hadn't noticed this reaction. Excitedly, he recounted his pre-school visit to the zoo and his conversation with a snake there.

"A giant python told you it had never been to Brazil?" Ron's voice was very weak.

"So what? I bet a lot of people can do that! It's like what Professor Harp mentioned, that... gift!"

Ron didn't speak, but Hermione whispered, "Harry, speaking with snakes is a sign of Salazar Slytherin. It's called Parseltongue, so the emblem of Slytherin House is a snake."

"But I'm not!" Harry was somewhat bewildered. But he suddenly remembered during his first year sorting, the Sorting Hat strongly suggested he choose Slytherin House. Thinking about this, Harry tightly closed his mouth.

"It's okay, mate." Ron patted his shoulder lightly, pretending to be relaxed. "Pure-blood wizards often intermarry, maybe you're a great-great-great-great-grandchild of Slytherin."

Seeing no signs of Harry relaxing, he added in a hushed tone, "Really, if you really analyze it, most pure-blood wizard families are interconnected. I'm even related to Malfoy."

"You and Malfoy?" Harry was shocked.

Ron shrugged, "There aren't many pure-blood wizards left. Intermarrying is normal. To be honest, true pure-bloods have long disappeared; their bloodline didn't survive until now."

Finally, Harry began to calm down.

"Harry, it's best not to mention this to the outside world," Hermione suggested.

Harry nodded, he wouldn't say a word even if you forced him to; he didn't want to be related to Slytherin.

But Hermione redirected the conversation back on track, "Since you're a Parseltongue, the sounds you heard that day could very well have been from a snake. Perhaps it was moving along the gaps in the walls."

In the young witch's concept, a snake at most was as thick as a wrist.

"But I heard it saying things like 'death,' 'kill,' 'tear you apart.'"

"Maybe it was hunting at the time? You know, catching some rats, small bugs, and the like," Ron speculated.

Without evidence, the trio had to give up.

Anyway, it wasn't a big deal!

"Hermione, how's your essay coming along?" Harry asked.

"Horrible!"

Hermione exclaimed, quickly leaving and leaving the two of them dumbfounded.

"Has Hermione gone crazy from reading too much lately? I've never seen her like this," Ron said.

Harry shrugged.

Library.

Hermione occupied a large table by herself, piled high with thick books. In front of her lay parchment, and she was writing swiftly with her quill.

There were less than ten hours until the library closed. She might have to pull an all-nighter tonight.

Go, Hermione! She cheered herself on.

Up until now, she had been cramming through twelve books, only skimming through them, barely glancing at their content. She retained less than fifty percent of what she read, which was quite different from her usual habits. She hadn't memorized any of it.

For the sake of her essay, she had to reluctantly abandon her reading habits. But she had already decided that after she finished her essay, she would go back and review the reading list, committing all this content to memory.

She flipped through the pages with a fluttering sound, simultaneously jotting down appropriate arguments and evidence with her quill. She had a maniacal demeanor, and she didn't even notice Professor Binns walking by her several times.

She worked until closing time. By then, she had finished reading sixteen books. Carrying the remaining four and her thick parchment, she returned to the common room, stifling yawns.

Tonight, she was prepared for a late-night study session.

Pushing open the common room door, everyone else had already left, leaving only two people.

"Harry, Ron?" Hermione was somewhat surprised.

"Hey, we didn't see you at dinner. Figured you might not have gone, so we brought this for you." Ron pointed at the table in front of him. On it were wrapped portions of food in parchment paper, the grease from the food had seeped through the outer layer of parchment, leaving oily stains.

Hermione covered her mouth, trying not to cry.

Harry chuckled, "We can't help with your essay, so this is all we can do. Hang in there, Hermione. You're the smartest person I've ever met in my life."

Hermione nodded vigorously.

The two of them left, and Hermione unwrapped the parchment paper. Inside were two pastries, and she ate them hungrily.

In the quiet common room, there was only her.

The next day, Monday, Hermione was in a daze the entire day. During Transfiguration practice, she nearly turned Harry into the Transfiguration subject.

By noon, she had to make a trip to the infirmary.

In the afternoon, with no classes during the second period, she intended to finish the last two books. Having pulled an all-nighter to complete her essay, she felt she had to finish reading these books as well. Maybe they would add some new content to her paper.

But she was too tired. When Harry returned from Quidditch practice, he found Hermione asleep in the common room.

"Hermione, Hermione?"

"Harry?" Hermione blinked her bleary eyes open. Her hair was even messier, and she looked disheveled.

She quickly woke up, then let out a scream, "What time is it, Harry, what time is it?"

"Half-past eight, Hermione." Fred, who had also just finished practice, answered. "I'll never forget Wood's craziness, practicing until eight on the first weekend of school. And it got even worse in the second week."

Oliver Wood himself, who was present, had a black line on his face. "I'm still here, you know!"

Not just him, the members of the Gryffindor team were all there. They were covered in mud, too tired to even speak.

Hermione jumped up suddenly, hastily ran outside, then turned around and hurried back, quickly straightening out the parchment paper on the table. Muttering to herself, she made sure everything was in order, then grabbed her bag and disappeared from everyone's view.

"What a hardworking and studious girl," Angelina, one of the players, commented.

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Professor of Ancient Runes' Office

Felix Harp wrapped up a day of teaching. Today, he had three classes in total, but half of the time was spent on exams, cleverly labeled as "assessing students' learning progress." In his previous life, there was a professional term for this, called "formative assessment."

The definition of formative assessment was: an evaluation of the students' existing level of development at the beginning of a semester or unit.

It fit quite well in this context.

The other half of the class time was used to review previously learned knowledge. This disappointed the young wizards who thought they might continue the magical puppet battle.

Fortunately, the professor told them that they would see the continuation in the next class, and those who performed well would receive extra rewards.

Felix was in his office watching a movie, fully engrossed in it.

Bang, bang, bang!

A series of urgent knocks interrupted his entertainment time. He opened the door and saw Hermione, out of breath.

"Professor... I'm sorry... I... huff... I fell asleep and missed... the time!"

Hermione's chest heaved, her face flushed, and a thin layer of sweat dampened her hair.

Seeing the anxious look on the young witch's face, Felix gestured for her to calm down and led her into the office.

"Please, have a seat."

Hermione obediently sat down, and only then did she realize, belatedly, that a movie was being projected on the wall in front of her.

She turned her head and quickly spotted a projector.

Hermione felt a bit confused. Did I not wake up yet? Isn't Hogwarts supposed to ban the use of Muggle products?

But she didn't dare to move recklessly and could only watch the content of the projection. After a few minutes, she realized, oh, it's actually quite engaging.

The movie was about a princess visiting Rome who unexpectedly meets a journalist. It was clear that the movie had some years on it, but the storytelling was compelling, drawing her in.

She happened to watch a scene where the princess used a violin to hit a thug's head.

Hermione couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Soon, she heard footsteps and immediately suppressed her smile, sitting up straight.

Felix held a beverage in his hand and handed it to her. "This is Butterbeer. I've added a touch of Cheering Charm and Dreamless Sleep Draught to it. They will be released gradually, ensuring you have a good night's sleep when you return."

"Thank you, Professor Harp." Hermione took a sip; the taste was a bit odd, but not unpleasant. She found her spirits lifting, dispelling the exhaustion of the past week.

She remembered the purpose of her visit, quickly opened her bag, pulled out seven pieces of parchment, and handed them to Felix. "Professor, these are my research papers."

Felix took the papers and glanced at them, simultaneously waving his wand without looking up. A few plates of snacks floated over to Hermione. "You can have a bite to eat and enjoy the movie. You probably haven't had much time for entertainment lately."

Hearing Felix's words, she realized she had once again missed dinner. Every cell in her body was complaining to her right now.

She blushed slightly, nibbling on the snacks slowly, occasionally stealing glances at the professor who was engrossed in reading her paper. Since he didn't seem to have any intention of looking up, she quietly picked up her pace.

Unbeknownst to her, she finished the Butterbeer, consumed three plates of snacks, and the movie was coming to an end.

The feeling of being well-fed brought back Hermione's cheerful mood.

She turned her head and saw that the professor had finished reading her paper, now absorbed in a book with evident delight.

"Professor, I'm sorry..."

Felix looked up, a smile in his eyes. "I thought you were enjoying the movie."

Hermione: "..."

"Alright, let's talk about your paper." Worried that the girl might be bashful, Felix quickly changed the subject. He picked up Hermione's paper and praised, "An excellent paper."

"It's logically structured, flows smoothly, and you've referenced material from eighteen books, each piece of evidence fitting perfectly..."

Hermione lowered her head, a bit embarrassed by the praise.

"Congratulations, you're officially my assistant." Felix stood up and walked over to her.

Sparkles lit up in Hermione's eyes. "Really? Oh! Professor, I'm... I'm so excited!"

"This is well-deserved," Felix Harp said gently, "You've put in tremendous effort for this, I dare say, far exceeding my expectations."

Hermione felt like crying. This past week had been so challenging for her.

"As my assistant, you'll undoubtedly have to invest extra time in the future..."

"Professor, I'll work hard!"

"No, no, you've misunderstood me," Felix smiled, "To give is to receive. Therefore—"

"Gryffindor gains fifty points, each term."

...

Hermione returned to the common room feeling a bit dizzy. Harry and Ron were playing Wizard's Chess, while the twins huddled in a corner, holding a piece of parchment and murmuring something.

Seeing Hermione come in, many young wizards looked up. Gossip traveled fast, and they had already heard that Hermione might become the new professor's assistant.

Meanwhile, Felix, fresh from his public lecture, was the talk of the castle.

Harry quickly jumped up, casually moving chess pieces aside. "Hermione, how did it go?"

"Hey! I'm about to checkmate." Ron muttered discontentedly, though his heart wasn't in the game either.

"I succeeded." Hermione declared the outcome outright.

"Hooray! Cheers for the Gryffindor's Know-It-All! She's now Hogwarts' youngest assistant!" The twins cheered, their hands behind them as they mimicked an airplane's posture, soaring around the common room.

A few fireworks popped with a "bang," and the common room was submerged in a sea of joy. The young wizards gathered around, offering congratulations to Hermione, regardless of her whispered explanations that it was "assistant" not "professor."

The twins disappeared for a moment and returned with a large assortment of snacks, adding fuel to the festive atmosphere.

Halfway through, Professor McGonagall was summoned. She pursed her lips, apparently contemplating how many points to deduct from Gryffindor.

"Professor McGonagall, we're celebrating Hermione becoming an assistant." The twins quickly explained.

Professor McGonagall cast a quick glance at Hermione, who nodded subtly, prompting a smile from her. "Well, I suppose... but... keep it down a bit, will you?" Professor McGonagall quickly conceded.

"Is this your paper?" Professor McGonagall asked, bypassing the cheering crowd and looking at the parchment in Hermione's hand.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall."

Professor McGonagall picked up the parchment and first counted the pages with surprise before quickly diving into reading.

It contained both Hermione's original text and the annotations added by Felix.

At first, Professor McGonagall flipped through the pages quickly, but soon her pace slowed. While Hermione's paper resembled more of a review, it was concise and clear, essentially reorganizing the entire development process of ancient runes.

Basically, anyone reading Hermione's paper would gain a comprehensive understanding of ancient runes.

"An incredibly well-written paper. I believe it's qualified for publication in a journal."

"I have a long way to go. Professor Harp helped me with a lot of corrections," Hermione whispered.

Professor McGonagall was also somewhat speechless. In her eyes, Hermione's paper was already outstanding, but the fact that Felix could provide even more corrections indicated this exceptional graduate's depth of knowledge in ancient runes.

However, Felix's annotations weren't about pointing out errors but were more like suggestions for further understanding, such as "consider reading 'A History of Ancient Runes' pages 172-174 for deeper insights." This indicated that Felix believed Hermione's thinking needed to delve even deeper.

"He's quite demanding." Even the stern Professor McGonagall found herself siding with Hermione.

"Professor Harp thinks I've passed. His annotations indicate the next steps I should take." Hermione explained.

Professor McGonagall nodded then, looking at the paper, she grew fonder of it the more she read.

"Well then, once you've incorporated Professor Harp's annotations and revised the paper, I'll pass it to a friend of mine. There's a chance it could be published."

The young wizards present looked on with expressions that seemed to say, "Wow, she's in the presence of greatness."

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Bright and early on the second day, as young wizards rose from their slumbers, they discovered that Gryffindor House had suddenly gained fifty points, catapulting them to the lead in the House Cup. Naturally, questions swirled about what had transpired the previous day.

And so, the news of Hermione becoming the assistant to the new Ancient Magical Texts professor was announced.

Gryffindor, of course, was the most proud, while the other houses couldn't help but express some reservations. A second-year student, now an assistant to a professor? Was there some sort of secret involved?

Thus, a rather unpleasant incident unfolded on the Quidditch pitch. Draco Malfoy called Hermione a "mudblood," and in his fury, Ron cast a curse intended to harm but struck himself instead.

Hermione felt deeply disheartened, but Hagrid offered her solace, "He's just jealous, that nasty piece of work! Our Hermione's writing papers they can't even dream of!"

However, the winds of change came swiftly. The new Ancient Magical Texts professor handed out an extensive essay as supplementary material to all the students enrolled in the course, including the seventh years.

This essay was, of course, penned by Hermione.

Numerous older students attempted to find errors within, but despite their skill, they couldn't find a single mistake.

It wasn't that Hermione's knowledge of Ancient Magical Texts exceeded that of the seventh years—she hadn't even started studying them yet. Rather, almost singlehandedly, she had meticulously reorganized the historical development, research directions, significant discoveries, and theoretical schools of Ancient Magical Texts, updating the information right up to the previous year.

For nearly thirty years, no one had undertaken this task. As a result, the knowledge of Ancient Magical Texts that researchers possessed was outdated.

This was the true value of Hermione's essay.

Several professors expressed their admiration for the essay on various occasions, particularly Professor Flitwick, who nearly fainted with excitement during class.

As a result, all controversies ceased. Especially after a Gryffindor student "kindly" shared Hermione's recommended reading list, the prevailing sentiment shifted from "Hermione the Know-It-All" to "The New Professor is Truly Eccentric."

For a second-year student to be tasked with reading twenty heavy tomes in a week and writing seven pages of parchment was nothing short of "eccentric."

Countless young wizards taking Ancient Magical Texts were now trembling with trepidation.

Professor Felix Harp found his reputation suffering.

Even Professor Snape joined in, taunting Neville in his recent Potions class, "With your intelligence, I sincerely advise you not to take Ancient Magical Texts in your third year. Professors might mistake themselves for teaching a giant."

Felix's Ancient Magical Texts course, meanwhile, began to follow its proper path.

In the fourth-year classroom:

"Welcome to the hallowed halls of Ancient Magical Texts, our first class," Felix addressed the young lions and serpents below.

Among them were two familiar figures—the Weasley twins.

"I won't waste too much time repeating the importance of this course; some information I've already shared in the open sessions."

"If you aspire to uncover the glory of wizards past, to decipher the arcane secrets of ancient wizardry hidden within cryptic manuscripts, then this course is for you."

"If you yearn to craft mystical alchemical creations, to recreate the magical artifacts of legends and fairytales, then you need this course."

"If your aim is to delve into the true essence of magic, to unveil the unique power and glory inherent to wizards, then this course is just as vital."

Felix closely observed the expressions of the young wizards. Seeing them involuntarily become more serious, he felt a sense of satisfaction. It seemed he could repeat this introduction a few more times.

"But everything begins with the basics."

On the lectern, Felix waved his wand, and a suitcase popped open abruptly, releasing dozens of magical puppets that landed accurately in front of the students.

"Cool!" the twins exchanged a glance, both impressed.

Other students eagerly picked up the magical puppets, playing with them in their hands. Some even attempted to make them move using their wands.

"Considering that third and fourth years have the least exams to worry about, our course will focus primarily on practical applications."

Below, cheers erupted.

Felix Harp waited for a while, allowing the young wizards to casually fiddle with the magical puppets in their hands before he continued, "I believe some of you have already noticed that your magical puppets aren't moving."

He wore a mysterious smile, tinged with a sort of mischievous delight, "—In a way, they're still incomplete."

The young wizards stared at him in confusion.

"That's right, incomplete. These magical puppets lack certain crucial magical inscriptions at the nodes of magical energy—connections, alignment, balance, coordination. These are the four categories of practical Ancient Magical Texts you'll be dealing with this term, a total of twenty-seven."

"As long as you master them all, you'll have a real magical puppet."

"Of course, that's in addition to another 482 theoretical incantations. That's your entire curriculum for this year," Felix added.

One of the twins shouted, "Professor, let's get started already!"

Felix looked at him approvingly, not bad, they know how to play along. "In today's lesson, I'll be explaining the four incantations related to the 'connection' aspect. If you successfully master them, you can make your magical puppets move."

"Move?"

"Perform basic actions, like throwing a punch, kicking, rolling over, that sort of thing."

"Professor, could you teach us more?"

"Of course... not."

Following that, the young wizards maintained an unprecedented level of focus in class. Each of them tried to grasp these four incantations as quickly as possible. However, by the end of the lesson, only Fred Weasley had managed a partial success—his puppet could continuously swing its right arm, but only the right arm.

"Weasley, plus ten points."

As the end of class approached, Felix began assigning homework.

"Your homework is to practice the four incantations we covered today. Keep your magical puppets with you for now; they're here for your practice."

"I hope that in the next class, all of you will have mastered these four incantations."

George raised his hand, "Professor, what if the magical puppet breaks?"

Truth be told, he wanted to take it apart and reverse engineer it.

"No need to worry, I've cast protective spells."

Felix seemed to offer a well-intentioned addition—

"Under the protection spells, your magic will only last half an hour. So, you know, practice more."

The young wizards, still packing up their things, looked at this amiable professor with dazed expressions.

But for the highly skilled duo of twins, this wasn't much of a concern. Their focus lay elsewhere. Fred asked, "Professor, will you teach new incantations in the next class?"

He was eager to enhance his magical puppet.

"That depends on your overall progress," Felix's response was ambiguous. In reality, of course not. The next few classes would all be theoretical. Now, be good and translate your textbooks.

Did they really think I'd be shepherding? Do I even need evaluations anymore?

Felix's strategy was to lure the young wizards in, and then he could do as he pleased.

"By the way, there will be a test before Halloween, covering both theory and practice. The student with the highest combined score will receive a magical puppet handmade by me," Felix whispered softly, "The upgraded version."

"Now, class dismissed!"

...

This same strategy was repeated over the following days. Soon enough, the third and fourth-year wizards were fueled by enthusiasm for the Ancient Magical Texts course, their interest reaching a fervent peak.

After class, everyone had a magical puppet in hand, waving their wands to command the puppets.

By Friday, Fred Weasley took things a step further in the Transfiguration class. Before the lesson started, he openly used his magical puppet to perform a tap dance routine, sending this wave of enthusiasm into full throttle.

However, Professor McGonagall wasn't particularly pleased and deducted two points from Weasley.

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Facing the fifth and seventh-year students, Professor Harp displayed a different side of himself.

He waved his wand, distributing the test papers to the students—these were the test papers from their previous class.

Felix Harp stood at the front of the room, not saying a word, yet an air of tension had already enveloped the young wizards and witches.

They were all seventh-year students who had shared three years of camaraderie with this professor, especially Felix, who was in his fifth year when they first entered Hogwarts.

What did he do in his fifth year?

Well, he merely issued a duel invitation to someone from the Shafiq family. However, for these students, it was not just a duel invitation; it was like a notice of impending death! Or more like a whole family coming to deliver it together.

Felix toyed with his wand, sensing that the atmosphere had reached its apex. Finally, he spoke, "These are the results of your test from the last class. Honestly, I am somewhat disappointed, quite disappointed indeed..."

"Marcus!"

Marcus Flint trembled as he stood up. "Prof... Professor." Felix might not remember him, but he remembered Felix very clearly, as the 'Shafiq' was sitting right next to him.

Both being pure-bloods, Marcus' father had even asked that senior student to look out for him. But just as school started, he was hit by a big lightning bolt.

He could never forget the sight of that confident senior lying on the ground.

Felix walked up to him and patted his shoulder. "Your grades have slipped a bit. Do better in the future, I have high hopes for you."

"Yes... Professor."

Marcus couldn't say much else; he would have to study like mad from now on!

Felix was quite pleased with this Slytherin's attitude. After all, it was his own house, and they were really giving their all.

"Let's begin the lesson. Today's content is a bit extensive, so I'll move quickly. When you go back, make sure to complete these three sets of papers."

"After all, your NEWTs exams are coming up this year..."

...

Saturday, Gryffindor Common Room.

Percy looked exhausted, having just finished a twelve-inch essay on the History of Cauldron Development and Innovation. But he still had assignments from six more subjects to tackle—his course load was simply too heavy.

Damn it, at this rate, I won't even have time for a date!

Hermione emerged from the girls' dormitories, carrying a hefty tome. She saw Harry and Ron huddled around a table, with several other young wizards nearby, all watching something interesting.

Walking over, she noticed the Weasley twins were present as well. In fact, they were using their wands to make two magical puppets dance.

She recognized these two puppets—these were the ones Professor Harp had used in his public lecture.

Accompanied by silent music (there actually was no music), a pair of miniature figures, about half a foot tall, twirled around on the table, locked in a graceful dance. This was their dance floor.

Lee Jordan was narrating the "plot": "And thus, the Fire Lad and the Ice Maiden fell in love, becoming the envy of everyone. But their happiness was short-lived, as their ideologies clashed severely, leading them to engage in a fierce battle!"

Fred and George complemented his commentary. Fred swung his wand first, and the Ice Maiden landed a kick on the Fire Lad's face.

"Oh! The Ice Maiden takes the initiative, delivering a powerful kick that sends her once-beloved soaring about two feet! Has the solemn vow of mountains and oceans vanished like this?" Lee Jordan exclaimed with sorrow, his voice echoing.

George wouldn't be outdone. He skillfully waved his wand, and the Fire Lad leapt up, landing a powerful punch on the Ice Maiden's stomach before kicking her away.

"Finally, the Fire Lad, no longer shackled by love, realizes that it's not worth the ideological conflict! He has to take action, he's moving, he's moving... and he finally uses his foot! Splendid!"

A young witch among the spectators scoffed.

Hermione stood there in astonishment. You guys really know how to have fun, complete with a plot.

A few more minutes passed, and after a flurry of punches that gave the Fire Lad the upper hand, he suddenly stumbled in mid-air.

Then, the Ice Maiden also froze in place.

"Out of Power! Out of Power!" Dean Thomas, who grew up in the Muggle world, exclaimed, using unfamiliar terms.

Fred and George picked up the puppets and hurried to a corner, starting to re-inscribe ancient magical symbols.

"Professor Harp is really wicked. Supplementing the runes only gives them half an hour of activity," many young wizards complained about a certain professor.

As the crowd dispersed, Hermione, Harry, and Ron found a seat again.

Hermione glanced at the twins in the distance. "They've reached this level already?"

"It's nothing. Many wizards have spent a lot of time on this," Ron explained. "Fred said that Cedric from Hufflepuff, he often wakes up in the middle of the night to secretly practice. He aims to win the exam before Halloween and get the mysterious prize."

"There are many witches too, holding magical puppets all day."

Hermione nodded; this week, scenes of young wizards holding magical puppets were everywhere. "But, Fred's puppets are not like this, are they?"

Ron commented casually, "He borrowed them from Angelina. It's to recreate the classic battle in the Great Hall. But in my opinion, they still have a ways to go. I mean, they just finished learning the first set of runes, and they need to master four sets. It's like collecting Chocolate Frog cards, putting all the skills together to form a set..."

"Harry, aren't you practicing today?"

Harry wore a distressed expression. "Practice is in the afternoon." Even though it had only been two weeks, he was already feeling worn out.

Ron suddenly chuckled. He glanced at Harry and Hermione, then whispered, "I heard Wood has been struggling with his Ancient Runes homework. Thanks to Professor Harp, Harry is able to have a relaxing day."

"Is the homework difficult?" Hermione guessed.

"Nah," Ron suppressed a laugh. "But this professor's sixth-year assignment isn't about translating; it's to write a thousand-word essay about 'My Summer Vacation.'"

Hermione felt a strange familiarity.

This style seemed quite common when she was in primary school...

Professor Harp was a Muggle-born after all, and he certainly had a wealth of life experience, Hermione thought.

As they chatted, Percy suddenly stood up, quickly packed his belongings, and left without looking back, his backpack on his shoulders.

It's time for his date!

Watching Percy's departure, Harry pondered, "He seems a bit agitated."

Ron shrugged. "Percy has taken too many courses. He passed 12 OWL exams and still wants to take 12 courses this year. However, Professor McGonagall managed to talk him out of some of them."

The two of them sighed in understanding and then turned their gaze to Hermione. Could this be Hermione's future?

Ignoring the two, Hermione sat on the side reading a book.

Harry looked at the book in Hermione's hands, "Ancient Runes History Exam," and couldn't help but ask, "Didn't you pass the test? Why are you still reading this book?"

Hermione turned a page, "Professor Harp left a bunch of notes on my paper—things I need to pay attention to. Besides, I've found that Ancient Runes are quite fascinating."

"Fascinating..."

The two academic underachievers exchanged looks. Every time they discussed academic matters with Hermione, they felt like there were pumpkins planted on their necks by Hagrid.

So, they started playing Wizard's Chess on their own.

In the afternoon, Wood led the team out of the common room. Harry thought about asking him how to handle his Ancient Runes assignment, but considering that not even the end of the world could deter Wood's enthusiasm for training, he eventually kept his mouth shut.

On the way, he bumped into Colin Creevey, the clingy enthusiast, who greeted him enthusiastically, "Hi, Harry!" Harry replied wearily, "Hi, Colin."

He had anticipated that the upcoming training session would undoubtedly be accompanied by countless flashes and shutter sounds.

Inside the castle, Ron was a bit bored, stuck with his homework.

Staring at the blank parchment, he daydreamed for a while, then eventually folded it into a paper plane. Unfortunately, the paper plane hit Neville's nose, causing him to let out a yelp.

In the evening, after dinner, Hermione headed to Felix Harp's office for her report.

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The office of Ancient Runes professor.

Felix Harp was grading papers, a task so monotonous it made him feel as if he were adding one plus one repeatedly hundreds of times. Fortunately, as he handed this chore over to Hermione, who had just knocked on the door and was still unsure about the situation, he felt thoroughly liberated.

"Mainly fifth and seventh-year papers, mostly multiple-choice questions and sentence translations. Grading them is relatively straightforward—you just compare the correct answers and mark the wrong ones with a cross."

And true to her reputation as a top student, Hermione quickly got into the groove, excelling at this type of work.

Meanwhile, Felix perused the paper Hermione had revised—a piece meant for Professor McGonagall's consideration for publication in an academic journal. He had to be stringent in his review. However, he didn't merely make blunt corrections; instead, he offered continuous suggestions and references to specific pages in recommended books.

He believed this approach would be more beneficial to Hermione.

About half an hour later, both of them finished their tasks almost simultaneously.

"Alright, let's get to the point."

Hermione had fulfilled her role as an assistant previously, and now it was time for Felix to fulfill his promise.

Seated face to face on a couch, a small low table between them, Felix conjured two glasses of juice with his wand. He attempted to put Miss Granger at ease, but she still seemed somewhat reserved.

"From your paper, it's evident that you already possess a substantial understanding of the history of ancient magical scripts. Even though you haven't formally begun your studies, I can assure you that your progress will be quite rapid."

"Professor, I'm currently studying 'An Introduction to Ancient Magical Scripts.' I've also learned how to use the 'Script Dictionary' and the 'Compendium of Magical Symbols.' I've gone through the reading list you provided earlier, though I haven't fully grasped most of it." The young witch sat up straight, quickly detailing her recent learning progress.

Felix paused for a moment. "Impressive, though I won't spend too much time discussing translation techniques with you. At most, I'll offer some advice."

"You can start around 900 years ago, the time of Hogwarts' founding. The four founders were great individuals who both translated the works of their predecessors and left behind challenging research materials for future generations. These materials filled the earliest library."

"However, these materials are now located in the Restricted Section, particularly well-preserved by Lady Ravenclaw. Slytherin's materials have been largely lost, possibly due to him taking his research with him in a fit of anger after his split with the other three..."

Felix recounted a segment of history vividly, capturing Hermione's rapt attention. "Nevertheless, it's also possible that Slytherin's research might not have been suitable for the library. Who knows."

"If you require it, I can issue you book tokens."

Felix stood up, motioning for Hermione to follow. They both approached his worktable.

"My area of research isn't translation but rather the exploration of the inherent power of magical scripts themselves. Like this—"

He picked up a palm-sized piece of chestnut wood from the table and infused it with magic through a stylus, inscribing magical runes on the surface. When these runes were first written, they emitted a blazing red light, but it quickly faded, leaving behind darkened patterns.

Hermione witnessed this phenomenon for the first time, her gaze fixed on it while her mind raced to decipher what the professor was doing, but to no avail.

Felix finished inscribing the runes and handed the chestnut wood to Hermione. "You can feel it."

She took the piece of wood in her hand. Without even touching it, she keenly sensed the magical fluctuations on its surface. As her fingers glided over the darkened runes, a warm sensation spread through her fingertips.

"Magical runes can store magical energy temporarily. However, without proper treatment, the energy on them will last for a maximum of three days, and that's a result of the chestnut wood's natural attributes."

Hermione nodded. As a wand material, chestnut wood was remarkably adept at containing and channeling magical energy.

"This defect can be addressed in several ways, such as—"

"You can link them to create a circuit, thus significantly extending the retention time of magic;"

"You can apply specialized protective spells;"

"Or add storage and conversion circuits..."

Hermione's mind worked tirelessly to remember every word, as she wished she could immediately pick up parchment and record every sentence Professor Harp uttered.

Felix's explanation process was, in fact, a reorganization of his own knowledge. Unlike the past three years of feeling "undernourished," he now had too many choices and had to choose carefully.

Therefore, lecturing the young witch was a side task. At this moment, he was lost in thought, murmuring, "However, these methods are just for maintenance. In thirty years, fifty years, they will decay with time."

Why did his voice get quieter? Hermione quickly closed the distance between them, craning her neck to listen attentively.

"Are the heroes and beings of myths conjecture or reality?"

"Are they powerful wizards?"

"If so, how do those magical creations that have been passed down for centuries achieve immortality?"

Watching the professor fall into silence, Hermione guessed, "Perhaps they can continuously provide magic themselves."

Felix chuckled softly, "That's impossible, they're not living creatures."

"What about the Sorting Hat? It's been around for centuries and can communicate with people, having its own wisdom." Hermione tried to support her speculation with examples. "And the portraits of past headmasters in the Headmaster's office, Harry mentioned them."

"Miss Granger, portraits themselves are intricate magical creations; they can carry a person's thoughts. Moreover, from what I know, for magical portraits to endure, regular maintenance is essential, although the intervals can extend for decades..."

"However, the Sorting Hat," Felix pondered for a moment, "I did overlook it. I'm not familiar with it. Perhaps I should find an opportunity to reintroduce myself to it?"

"Alright, Miss Granger, let's put a halt to our imaginative journey for now. Next—"

Felix took the palm-sized piece of chestnut wood from Hermione's hand, saying, "Next, I will connect these magical runes, forming a circuit. Watch closely."

This task was quite intricate; he carefully guided the lines, connecting them to one another, explaining as he operated. "This step is crucial; many alchemical creations possess complex functions."

After about fifteen minutes, he handed the chestnut wood back to Hermione, allowing her to feel the difference before and after.

"I can sense the flow of magic, with fluctuations and undulations. They... they seem to resist me." Hermione expressed her perception with some confusion.

It was truly remarkable.

Felix understood, "When you say 'resist,' it's because it's a rough semi-finished product, with magical fluctuations spreading chaotically, and you sensed that."

"Of course, this also indicates your keenness. You must have strong aptitude for spellwork."

Hermione's face turned a bright shade of red.

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Hermione inquired, "Professor, what is the purpose of this magical rune circuit?"

Felix Harp waved his wand, and a piece of chestnut wood floated up from his hand, soaring into the air as their gazes followed.

"This chestnut wood fragment bears only one Bursting Rune circuit, extremely unstable. With just a slight nudge from me, like this..." He lightly snapped his fingers.

"Boom!"

The chestnut wood shard exploded abruptly, accompanied by a powerful blaze and a resounding boom that startled Hermione.

Following that, Felix Harp demonstrated several more rune circuits to Hermione, giving her a fundamental understanding of this professor's field of study.

"Let's end it here for today. Tomorrow, I'll truly teach you about ancient magical runes."

Unbeknownst to them, the time had already reached half-past nine.

Returning to the common room, Hermione saw Harry covered in dust, looking weary as he leaned on the table, absentmindedly playing with a wizard chess piece. The "insulted" knight repeatedly poked Harry's fingers with its miniature lance.

Ron was busy with a potion assignment, three sets of reference answers laid out in front of him.

Seeing Hermione's return, Harry couldn't help but ask, "How does it feel, being the assistant for Ancient Runes on your first day?"

Hermione smiled, "It's been fantastic!"

Ron was curious about her tasks, "What have you been doing? Grading papers?"

"Well, I'm only responsible for grading a portion of the fifth and seventh year papers. You know, not many students from sixth and seventh year opt for Ancient Runes. They all attend the classes together from the four houses."

Ron suddenly got excited, "If I were you, I'd definitely deduct points from Slytherin for their essays."

Hermione's face instantly turned serious, "Ron, I must uphold my responsibilities."

Ron deflated like a punctured balloon onto the table.

"How about you, Harry? How's your Quidditch training going?" Hermione inquired.

"Same as usual, especially now that Fred and George got some intel from Slytherin. The Nimbus 2001 is so fast, you can't even see their faces." Harry looked rather pessimistic.

Hermione could only sympathize. The entire school lacked confidence in Gryffindor's first match against Slytherin. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were eager to use this match as an opportunity to gauge the combat prowess of the Nimbus 2001 brooms for targeted training.

Team morale wasn't high either. Wood secretly confided in Harry, "Our brooms might not match up to Slytherin's, but as long as your speed is up to par and you catch the Golden Snitch early..."

This added even more pressure on Harry.

...

On Sunday evening, Hermione once again entered the office of the Ancient Runes professor.

From a distance, she suddenly spotted Draco Malfoy exiting the office. Hermione quickly hid behind a pillar, observing Professor Harp and Malfoy conversing, with Malfoy nodding repeatedly.

Her emotions instantly grew complicated.

Inside the office, Hermione sat quietly on the couch, watching Felix Harp wave his wand, stacking a dozen pieces of parchment into a corner.

Could it be Malfoy's paper?

Hermione's mind swirled with various thoughts. She wanted to ask Professor Harp why Malfoy was here, but wisely held her tongue.

Just like yesterday, Felix Harp sat on the other side of the small low table, in front of which were ten pieces of chestnut wood, each engraved with a runic symbol.

"Today, we officially delve into the practical applications of ancient runes," he emphasized the word "practical."

"The magical meanings of these ten runes are all distinct. For instance, this one," he pointed to the first chestnut wood piece, "represents the concept of connection. To elaborate, it can link runes of the same category, like liquid or flow; or even concepts that are relatively opposed, like burst and stability..."

"In actual practice, I found that its form can undergo seven different transformations, each suitable for..."

He spoke for an hour straight, leaving Felix Harp with a dry throat.

"Next, we proceed to practical exercises."

Seeing Hermione draw her wand, Felix Harp smiled, "Our practice doesn't require wands."

"I've spoken with Professor McGonagall. I possess unique teaching techniques."

Hermione still had some doubts, but Felix Harp leaned down and lightly touched his wand to the young witch's forehead, simultaneously murmuring an incantation.

Suddenly, her vision felt hazy. The office's furnishings shimmered and twisted like water currents, colors blending into each other, making her feel as though she was within an abstract painting.

However, the distorted environment soon reverted to normal.

To her surprise, she and the professor were still seated on the couch, but the small low table between them acted as a dividing line, splitting the room into two halves. Professor's side was cluttered with a myriad of books, easily thousands of them.

These books were arranged into several stacks, seemingly representing different categories.

Yet, what caught her eye were the ancient runes pulsating on the books, each displaying varying colors: bright red, emerald green, deep blue, metallic sheen...

Hundreds of ancient runes resembled playful sprites, darting around the half of the room.

Hermione couldn't resist standing up. She glanced at Professor Harp, who gave a slight wave, indicating she could explore at will.

The young witch passed through the invisible barrier. An ancient rune flew before her, and Hermione couldn't help but cup it in her hands, allowing it to bounce around her palm.

Only after the little rune hopped away did she reluctantly shift her focus. She moved through the stacks of books, skimming through them with a sweeping gaze, while quickly scanning their titles—

"History of Ancient Runes," "Explorations in Ancient Runes," "Mysteries of Ancient Alchemy," "Principles of Spellcasting," "Advanced Spell Analysis," "Selected Transfigurations," "The Art of Duelling," "Dueling Techniques," "The Ravenclaw Manuscripts (Volume One)," "Compendium of Dangerous Magical Creatures," "Magical Potency," "Advanced Ancient Runes," "The Allure of Alchemy"...

So many, and all of them were substantial tomes. Hermione even spotted a book that stood two feet tall, with a thickness of nearly half a foot.

Even as a top student, she couldn't help but feel inadequate. She silently resolved to read as many books in the future...

She stepped over a tall stack of books and bypassed the undisturbed deep green curtains, only to find a pile of Muggle books: "Experiments of the Mind," "Secrets of the Human Brain," "Analysis of Thought," "The World's Best Jokes"...

She even stumbled upon a complete set of the "Encyclopedia Britannica," her childhood favorite!

Apart from these relatively normal books, in a corner of the room, lay seven or eight books scattered about, constantly emanating dark tendrils. If one stared at them intently, they could faintly hear the lament of a male wizard.

Could it be... dark magic books? The young witch was dumbfounded, sneaking a glance at the professor.

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Felix Harp subtly caught Hermione's gaze.

"Well, those indeed are dark magic books, but there's a saying, isn't there? If you wish to defend against dark magic, you must have a certain understanding of it. As far as I know, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement even teaches some dark magic."

"But I rarely see..."

"Some wizards don't use dark magic, but that doesn't mean they're unfamiliar with it."

Felix smiled gently at her, "I've traveled the world for a year, and I must say, when dealing with certain specific troubles, dark magic can indeed be more effective."

Upon hearing Professor Harp's explanation, she quickly pondered and found the reason somewhat acceptable, but still maintained a stern face, "Professor, I still advise you to avoid using dark magic. I read in a book: Dark magic always quietly infiltrates your heart, corroding you unknowingly—"

"—Many young wizards have gone astray due to this, especially for underage wizards. Dark magic is like an irreversible poison of the soul," Felix continued along Hermione's line of thought.

Seeing the young witch somewhat surprised, he blinked, "I've read that book too."

"Nevertheless, I thank you for your advice."

Hermione pursed her lips, her demeanor reminiscent of Professor McGonagall.

Noticing his assistant's slight disgruntlement, Felix deftly changed the subject, praising, "I never expected you to have read so many books. For your age, it's quite an impressive achievement."

Following the professor's gaze, Hermione then realized that the other half of the room—separated by a low table, closer to her—was decorated entirely differently.

Warm sunlight bathed the area, casting a gentle glow. The light brown carpet and pale yellow curtains created an extremely comfortable ambiance. In the center stood a small round table adorned with two potted plants.

Directly across the room, there stood a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. It held neatly arranged rows of books, and on the second shelf from the top, there were seven or eight photo frames displaying family portraits and Hermione's photos from childhood.

Adjacent to the bookshelf was an ivory-colored door.

Hermione gasped in astonishment, as she realized that this half of the space was uncannily similar to her own room back home, about seventy to eighty percent.

She turned to Professor Harp, her mind full of questions, realizing that only he could provide the answers she sought.

And indeed, Professor Harp supplied the explanation, "This is the world of thought, a dwelling of imagination—you can call it whatever you like. Of course, none of this is real; our consciousness merely exists here."

Hermione marveled at the explanation, standing at the junction of the two spaces. With wide eyes, she took in her surroundings, then hesitantly waved her hand, "So, this place is a joint creation of ours? One half represents your inner world, and the other half represents mine..."

Felix gestured to his own head, "Just the external mapping and projection of portions of our inner worlds."

"And all our deepest secrets lie behind that door," he added, nodding toward the ivory door. Then, with a flick of his wand, the deep green curtain behind him rolled up, revealing a large door.

Hermione visibly relaxed; after all, she held quite a few secrets she was not willing to reveal easily.

Such as Harry's Parseltongue impersonation.

"Professor, why have we come to this... world of thought?" she inquired.

Instead of answering directly, Felix shared a part of his own experiences, "After graduating, I spent a year traveling the world, and then settled in London, specializing in Muggle studies."

"Muggles' wisdom is no less than wizards', and in many aspects such as logic, reasoning, and problem-solving methodologies, they excel even further. And a crucial point is the legacy."

"They pass down their knowledge, accumulating it across generations, leading to a qualitative transformation through quantitative accumulation."

"Wizards have their own forms of legacy, like Hogwarts, but in terms of inheritance and development, we fall far behind."

"It was recognizing this that led me to read Muggle books. Honestly, after being accustomed to moving pictures, reading Muggle books felt a bit strange."

"Their studies about thought and the brain caught my attention. I realized they have surpassed us in this aspect, even though it should have been a field where wizards excel. After all, we possess a range of memory magic, like Obliviate, Legilimency, and Occlumency."

"But regrettably, we've inherited only spells, not concepts."

"So, combining Muggle knowledge with magic, I developed a spell. Though it's still quite a way off from my envisioned outcome, for our current teaching purposes, it's quite fitting."

"What's the purpose of this spell?" Hermione curiously inquired.

"Thought acceleration," Felix Harp explained, "Here—in what I call the Chamber of Thought—your thought process speeds up, and with this place, we get the illusion of extended time. I can currently achieve about a three- to fourfold increase, any higher becomes dangerous."

"Similar to this spell is the Babbling Beverage, but their effects are not entirely the same. The latter enhances the drinker's mental capacity."

Hermione widened her eyes, "Professor, this spell is truly astonishing."

Felix shook his head, "It's not perfect yet."

Seeing the professor's reluctance to say more, Hermione began practicing engraving ancient runes. She used a piece of chestnut wood provided by Felix—it was one of the limitations of this spell; if you can't comprehend it, it won't appear here.

For most of the remaining time, Hermione practiced on her own, with Felix occasionally offering guidance.

Seven thought hours later.

Felix noticed sweat on Hermione's face, her figure growing fainter, almost like a transparent ghost.

"Professor, I can't concentrate, I can't... maintain focus."

"Hmm, it's about time. Let's conclude for today." Felix snapped his fingers, and in the next instant, the world spun, and the two of them returned to the sitting room.

Felix's wand still rested on Hermione's head, and the previously still professor suddenly stumbled, almost falling to the ground.

He pressed his hand to his forehead while waving his wand, summoning a potion from his bag.

Guided by the wand, the potion bottle acted quite independently—it opened its own lid, fetched two cups, and poured out a portion of the potion.

Meanwhile, Hermione was in a less fortunate state. She collapsed onto the couch, her face contorted in pain, as if she was on the verge of passing out any moment.

"Drink it, it will alleviate your symptoms."

Hermione reluctantly drank the potion.

"Have a piece of chocolate." Felix handed her a piece of chocolate.

After seven or eight minutes, Hermione finally regained her senses. She kept murmuring softly, "It was so terrifying, so terrifying."

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After finishing an entire piece of chocolate, Hermione finally began to feel normal again. Despite looking quite exhausted, at least her intellect had been rebooted.

"Professor, is this one of the drawbacks of the Room of Thought? I feel like I haven't slept for three days and nights, and then this exhaustion just suddenly washed over me." She described her sensations.

"This is one of the drawbacks: it accelerates the consumption of your energy, and this consumption accumulates continuously," explained Felix Harp, "You've just spent seven hours in the Room of Thought, but the level of exhaustion you're feeling might exceed fourteen hours."

Felix looked thoughtfully at her, "It seems we'll have to shorten your time in the Room of Thought in the future. I think three to five hours, twice a week, should be a more appropriate frequency."

Upon hearing the professor's suggestion to cut down her study time, Hermione was about to instinctively argue back, but the recent experience had left her shaken, and she agreed to Felix's plan.

Her attention quickly shifted back to the recent magic; she asked curiously, "Professor, how did you come up with this magic? It's simply incredible! I think the Ministry of Magic should award you a Merlin Medal!"

Felix shook his head and said softly, "This magic is still far from perfect. I initially thought—it would allow me to gain several extra hours, even dozens of hours, out of thin air. But in practice, I encountered too many troubles."

"The essence of this memory magic is to speed up your thinking process, currently by—" he glanced at the clock, "about three times."

Hermione also turned to look at the clock, her expression very complex, "I spent seven hours in the Room of Thought, and only two hours have passed outside. This is truly a miracle!"

If others were to learn this magic, how much time would they have for studying!

But not many people could withstand the side effects of the magic, most likely.

And they would also need Professor Harp's assistance...

It seemed she was the lucky one, Hermione thought gleefully.

Felix continued to explain, "The Room of Thought is not the real world; fundamentally, everything in it is constructed by your cognition. Have you realized its problem?" Felix asked.

Hermione thought for a moment, "It reflects our own understanding of the outside world, which means—it means, we can't get accurate feedback! No, I could definitely practice runes inside."

The young witch's thought was that the foundation of the "Room of Thought" was built upon the wizard's understanding of the outside world, so it couldn't "create" something they weren't clear about, like—using the Room of Thought to brew potions, practice magic, and of course, learn runes.

But this contradicted her own experience.

Felix looked at the young witch with interest as she struggled to put her thoughts together, her expression one of deep concentration—Professor McGonagall's assessment of Miss Granger was quite accurate.

"That child is very eager for knowledge; she always manages to grasp the knowledge from books faster than others. Of course, her talents might not match yours, but I think you're an exception..."

Indeed, she was an exception, especially since she had a particular advantage when practicing spells. His perception of this witch had been constantly evolving, from a familiar stranger to a recommended assistant, and now, a hardworking academic achiever.

Truly worthy of being one of the original trio of main characters. Few could rival her potential.

What about the other two's talents? Felix wondered.

The clock ticked on.

"Could it be because of your existence, Professor?" Hermione's eyes lit up.

Felix Harp looked approvingly at her and revealed the answer, "I'm the one using magic, so the Room of Thought is constructed based on my cognition, at least mostly. And that means—"

"It means that your understanding of ancient runes extends beyond mine!"

Hermione suddenly realized, "Your understanding of ancient runes far surpasses mine, which is why I can practice ancient runes within your cognition."

In simple terms, Felix was the creator of the "Room of Thought," and Hermione was his invited guest.

Following this thread of thought, Hermione continued to deduce, "So, what's the effect of this magic on you, Professor?" It seemed rather insignificant.

Felix shrugged, "It's still somewhat useful. I have all the books I've ever read here, which allows me to quickly review the knowledge I've learned. Or when I want a period of undisturbed contemplation, it's very convenient."

In fact, Felix initially developed this magic as a combat spell—using it to gain supercharged dynamic vision and reaction abilities.

Coupled with his sixth-level Phantom Shifting and being knocked unconscious, he could move as swiftly as a dart.

He had this idea back in his fifth year, but he had no clue until he graduated.

Frustrated, he had to carry a vial of potion with him and use it to enhance his reaction speed by "quaffing."

It wasn't until he read numerous research papers about the brain and thinking in the Muggle world that he made progress, though it was unfortunate that this progress ended up being applied in teaching.

A long road lay ahead.

Putting these thoughts aside, Felix advised her, "The Room of Thought and the real world are not the same. In the coming week, you must practice continuously to turn the illusionary sensations into genuine reality."

Hermione's current state was like she had just played a VR game and learned the skill of "cooking." If she were to return to reality and start learning to cook, it would be like having a tenfold experience boost, but if she didn't put in any extra effort, that somewhat "illusory" experience would quickly fade.

Today wasn't the day for it; she was too exhausted.

"Professor..." Hermione hesitated, biting her lip, as if she had something to say.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Hermione quickly replied.

She had seen Malfoy leaving Professor Harp's office on her way here. Could it be that Malfoy also received the professor's help and was training in the Room of Thought? She wanted to ask the professor, but couldn't find a suitable excuse.

Perhaps Ron would know?

Ever since the "slug" incident, Ron had been paying special attention to Malfoy, especially news of his misfortune.

After resting for a little over ten minutes, Hermione still looked a bit under the weather, but it wasn't a big issue. A good night's sleep back in the dormitory would fix it.

...

In the evening, in the common room.

Hermione asked Ron about this question and unexpectedly, he knew about it.

Ron grinned widely with delight, "He's been put in detention by Professor Harp. It's been three days now... Apparently, Professor Harp thinks he's been disrespectful to his classmates, so he's making him copy books as a punishment."

"Copy books?" Harry asked curiously. Seeing his old rival's misfortune made him quite pleased, and he couldn't wait to hear more details.

"That's right, completely hand-copying them. I overheard him complaining to Crabbe and Goyle about it. They're two massive tomes, stacked together they're at least three inches thick. It'll take him a month at least."

"What books?"

"I caught a glimpse, didn't see them too clearly, seemed to be something about Muggles." Ron furrowed his brow in thought for a while, "Wait! I remember, Malfoy mentioned something, griping that Professor Harp's books don't sell at all, they can only be used as tools to punish students."

"Are they 'How Muggles Think' and 'A History of Muggle Struggles: Starting from a Million Years Ago'?" Hermione said both book titles in one breath.

Ron scratched his head, "Sounds about right... but how did you know?"

Hermione didn't reply, but dashed back to the dormitory and soon returned with two books.

They were indeed massive... Harry thought. He looked at the spines and they were exactly the two titles Hermione had mentioned.

Ron's mouth fell open, "Hermione, don't tell me these are your pastimes."

"Do you have a problem with that?" Hermione retorted assertively.

Harry took one of the books and flipped it open from the middle, finding pages upon pages of text that made his head spin. "Hermione, do you really need to read these kinds of books? I mean, we've lived in Muggle households since we were kids."

Hermione looked very pleased, "Looking at the Muggle world from a wizard's perspective is still quite interesting. And Professor Harp's books are really well-written; the perspectives he brings up are ones I'd never think of."

Then she added with a hint of resentment, "Malfoy is really getting off easy; if it weren't for Professor Harp, he'd never get to read such outstanding books in his life!"

Hermione generously praised Felix Harp, and the two boys exchanged a glance, silently sharing their thoughts—had Hermione's admiration shifted from Lockhart to this Professor Harp?

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Felix Harp watched as the young witch walked away. He stood by the window, able to glimpse through the darkness the distant sight of two young wizards sitting together, holding hands, savoring a leisurely weekend.

"Times of peace..." he pondered the phrase with a touch of nostalgia. It wasn't until he returned to Hogwarts that he truly realized the impact of the war.

While the Dark Lord's reign of terror persisted, Felix was leading older children in the Muggle orphanage to thrash the bullies from the neighboring school. He was, in a sense, having a jolly good time. By the time he entered school, the Dark Lord had been defeated for nearly a year.

The magical world was in chaos at that time—Death Eaters were busy evading punishment, ambitious individuals were eager to seize power vacuums, victims were demanding compensation, and those who refused to accept defeat were plotting counterattacks from their hiding places. Of course, none of this affected him; what affected him were the young wizards within Hogwarts.

During those days, pure-blood families in the wizarding world were doing their best to distance themselves from the Dark Lord. Discrimination? Absolutely not, wizards and Muggles are all kin. But what happened within the household, how they educated the next generation, could be completely different.

Felix entered Hogwarts under these circumstances, and then—

Hush! Don't make a sound. Let's see what we've discovered. A Muggle-born Slytherin! Quick, let's bully him!

Hmm, that was the mindset of most Slytherin students at that time.

After the evening feast, Felix prepared to use his talents to make friends with his housemates. But a Slytherin looked at him with disgust and said, "Get lost, filthy Mudblood!"

It wasn't until Felix unconsciously petrified the Slytherin that he realized the meaning of the word. What on earth had just happened?

Both sides were a bit dumbfounded.

Thankfully, he was as stubborn as they come, and while his other two roommates lacked any sense of integrity, Felix's responses were sharp, and so, that night as he lay in bed, he had already predicted his future situation to some extent.

He realized that this conflict today was not the end of an event, but the beginning of everything.

Subsequent developments unfolded as he expected, but luckily, within a week, he had proven himself; well, pah! He had forcefully made friends with the new students. They said more than once in public that Felix was a good person, not only gifted but also helpful.

Though he couldn't yet overpower the older students, with professors and school rules in place, they wouldn't curse him either. After all, fighting within the same year could be brushed off as friction, but if older students attacked younger ones, they could be expelled.

By the time he displayed his immense magical talent, there were few left who wanted to trouble him.

It must be said, Slytherin wasn't lacking in clever minds.

But danger wasn't confined to the school. Felix couldn't remember how many death threats he received during his years there, but he clearly remembered the first one during his first-year Christmas party.

It was an anonymous howler. Later, he speculated that it might have been sent by the parent of a new student he had beaten up.

However, that year he chose to stay at school cautiously, flipping the second-year Slytherins—can't blame him, they started it, he merely guided the situation to his advantage.

But he hadn't anticipated the escalation of death threats. In the beginning of his second year, a barrage of red howlers flew at him. The entire Great Hall echoed with "You filthy Mudblood, get out of Slytherin!" or "Don't let me see you, or I'll personally erase Slytherin's shame!"

The young wizards at the dining tables were all bewildered. Headmaster Dumbledore was unusually serious; he personally inspected the wreckage of the howlers. But it was difficult to trace their origins—borrowed owls, disguised voices.

To be honest, Felix was perplexed. He wanted to study magic in peace, but things never seemed to go as planned.

Felix Harp had to persist with his plan of making more friends and having fewer enemies. This meant enduring misunderstandings, as those unaware of the truth assumed he was seeking revenge.

Before long, he approached a third-year Slytherin he found particularly displeasing. Under the guise of seeking guidance, he managed to send the boy to the infirmary for three weeks.

Afterward, he visited the patient actively, deeply regretting his "mistake." After all, it had been an accident!

"Professor, I truly feel remorse. Are you going to deduct points? Go ahead, I can bear it..."

Felix suddenly realized that causing trouble for Slytherins was remarkably easy. All he needed to do was insult their families when no one was around.

This fishing method worked every time.

After a few attempts, even the stubborn third-year Slytherin conceded. The most stubborn one was his own roommate, but even he eventually accepted Felix's friendship after seven days of sleeping on the floor.

By the time he reached his third year, he had settled the last resistant seventh-year Slytherin. When it was all said and done, it felt like leveling up and graduating from a game.

Still, he dared not venture beyond the school grounds, as he continued to face death threats every year.

Hence, he spent a whole year pushing himself to master two sixth-level spells, even though his magical theory was only at level four!

Fortunately, it was all worth it. Using his sixth-level "Stupefy" and "Protego" spells, he managed to deal with seven fools who had tried to attack him during his fourth-year summer break. They were currently residing in Azkaban!

Upon returning for his fifth year, he initiated family duels, which, to him, were no big deal. He didn't even get to fight a formal duel—Shafiq was taken away the next day.

From then on, until his graduation, he lived quite contentedly.

After leaving Hogwarts, Felix didn't choose positions at the Ministry of Magic or Gringotts; he had no interest in working there.

Great prospects? High salary?

Well, he could finally say with pride, "I'm not interested in money."

He wanted to stay at the school, but unfortunately, Headmaster Dumbledore refused him.

"You're still young. Travel and explore more before settling down to work in a couple of years."

Felix eventually chose to travel the world, experiencing different magical customs of various countries like checking off a list. He was especially drawn to the black markets of different nations, where he found ancient magical manuscripts and alchemical products he desperately needed.

This was how he came to know some interesting (dark) wizards, all of them masked so they wouldn't be judged by appearances, but rather by what they could offer each other.

In dealings within the shadows, he joyfully tested the magic he had conceived on them. It's crucial to emphasize that he hadn't personally ended any lives—just left behind a bunch of imbeciles. Hopefully, their friends and family took them for treatment.

His "Chamber of Thoughts" also began to take shape, bit by bit.

After completing his travels, Felix once again applied for a teaching position at Hogwarts, only to be gently rejected. However, Dumbledore seemed to discern his disinterest in the Ministry of Magic. He suggested Felix spend some time in the Muggle world.

Felix chose to accept the suggestion. On one hand, he believed this might be Dumbledore's "assessment" of him, considering his actions during his school years hardly qualified him as a "potential professor." On the other hand, he wanted to pave a path for himself, to mold an identity as a scholar—so that even if becoming a professor didn't pan out, he could still engage in conversations with other renowned wizards.

He was confident about it. In the field of Muggle studies, he could catch on quickly.

If he didn't worry about shocking the wizarding world, he could write ten Muggle research books in a year. But in the end, he decided to exercise patience and make his actions more reasonable.

During those two years, his correspondence with Dumbledore increased substantially. Felix sent him research manuscripts, and the two engaged in written conversations about Muggle matters.

This gave him hope of returning to Hogwarts.

Though he faced a third rejection in his third application... reflecting on the journey, he still felt quite pathetic. But from the letters, he could discern Dumbledore's attitude quietly shifting.

Then came the time to publish, publish. His books received modest responses in the market, but among professionals, they held significant reference value.

The name Felix Harp became associated with the title of "Muggle Studies Expert."

Thanks to this, in his third year post-graduation, he established pen-pal relationships with many renowned wizards, greatly benefiting from them.

Some smaller wizarding countries even invited him to lead departments handling Muggle-related matters, but he politely declined.

Exactly three years after his graduation, he finally received an interview invitation from Hogwarts.

From here, everything would begin...

Felix stood by the window, watching as the sun set, its last rays touching the horizon.

Today's two updates, totaling five thousand words.

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As time gradually moved into October, Felix Harp found himself settling comfortably into the intense world of teaching, becoming more and more adept at it with each passing day.

Teaching third and fourth years, with the aim of sparking interest, Felix had organized a few practical activities in his classes. He had to admit, the young wizards' creativity knew no bounds. Even though they had only learned the first set of practical magical phrases, which allowed them to control magical puppets for basic movements, they had managed to turn it into a spectacle.

The "Enchanted Dance Troupe" among the girls and the "Fiery Duels" among the boys had become incredibly popular.

Felix also discovered a talent named Cedric, a fourth-year Hufflepuff student, who had developed a magical application during lessons – passing notes in class.

During a History of Magic class, probably due to the inherent dullness of the subject, Cedric controlled a puppet to roam around the classroom, passing notes to his friends. A few half-asleep young wizards were stunned as they witnessed the scene. The magical puppet bounced over to a young wizard who was deep in slumber, drooling away.

Cedric made a subtle motion with his wand, and the magical puppet leaped up, its little fist tapping the sleeping wizard's knee.

"Bang!"

The slumbering young wizard awoke with a start, instinctively kicking out. The magical puppet was sent flying, passing through Professor Binns' spectral form and crashing to the ground.

Professor Binns, who had been teaching for decades and was the sole player of the Hogwarts MMORPG (Magical Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game), displayed an unusual burst of anger. "Lambert, disrupting the classroom order, ten points from Ravenclaw!"

The honest Hufflepuff stood up, stating that his name wasn't Lambert and he wasn't in Ravenclaw. Nonetheless, he was given detention.

This bit of gossip spread rapidly throughout the school. By the next day, some couldn't wait to replicate this feat. However, they were swiftly suppressed by a coalition of campus miscreants led by Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick.

The Weasley twins suffered a stroke of misfortune as they controlled magical puppets and transfigured objects in their Transfiguration class—two lizards in a fight earned them a fifty-point deduction and three weeks of detention.

At the dining table, Professor McGonagall gently reminded Felix not to indulge the students. This prompted him to reiterate in his class that practicing magical puppets in other lessons, apart from his own, would result in the confiscation of the puppets.

In the sixth year, young wizards were still trying their hand at contending with their "disabled" magical puppets. Their tools were not as refined as those of the third and fourth years; they had to draw thirty percent of the magical phrases themselves.

This resulted in the sixth-year class having a rather peculiar style. One could frequently see magical puppets with disabled legs, crawling only with their hands. Many young witches had to sign a series of unequal treaties—like doing assignments—in order to borrow cherished dolls from younger students.

As for the fifth and seventh years, their magical puppets were the most comprehensive, but they were the "trial versions." Their experience time was determined by theoretical grades, and not everyone could get their hands on one.

However, their manipulation of the puppets was the most dazzling. Come the weekends, the top students would encounter each other at various school events, exchanging secretive glances before engaging their magical puppets in battle.

Elegant ice, raging flames, thunderous lightning, concealed slashes—all manner of moves and techniques were executed with incredible skill, clearly the result of dedicated private practice.

At times like these, a group of young wizards would quickly gather around them as spectators, nodding and pointing.

Some first and second-year students, even though they didn't have magical puppets, were fervently enthusiastic about this. A couple of young wizards from Muggle backgrounds were analyzing strengths and weaknesses with solemn expressions, attempting to predict the outcome of the duels.

"The strongest one has to be Fireboy, right? His phoenix transformation move is unbeatable!"

"Even Ice Girl's Frozen Moment is quite powerful, freezing the opponent into an ice sculpture!"

"Well, I must remind you all that lightning is at its strongest in its natural state."

"Hia, Hia, Hia..."

"But I do think that puppet spells with cutting effects are quite cunning," said a second-year wizard, earning unanimous agreement.

In early October, the temperature began to vary dramatically, with abrupt shifts between cold and hot. An unexpected flu swept through Hogwarts.

Young wizards formed queues to report to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey was kept busy. Her restorative potions were in high demand—though they made people's ears emit smoke, a rather comical sight.

Approaching Halloween, the professors' lessons naturally capitalized on the hype of the season.

Professor Flitwick spontaneously added a class session on "Halloween Special," teaching young wizards a spell to repel female ghosts;

Professor McGonagall's transfiguration subject for the day was a vampire mask, and students paraded around with it;

Professor Snape's lesson content remained unchanged: a standard antidote. However, in one class, he hinted that he might "accidentally" drop expired potion into a student's pumpkin juice at the Halloween feast.

Harry and Ron shivered.

Even the currently most popular Professor Harp couldn't escape this trend. In his class, he showcased a new creation—a magical puppet in the form of a ghost doll. It had a large head, a small body, a ghastly white face adorned with heavy dark circles under its eyes, and jagged teeth.

It looked adorably grotesque.

With a wave of Felix Harp's wand, the ghost doll opened its mouth and exhaled a plume of black smoke, darkening the faces of the young wizards in the front row.

"I mentioned at the beginning of the term that there would be an exam before Halloween. The top student in each grade will receive a mysterious prize. And now I can reveal it—it's going to be a magical puppet chosen from my personal collection."

"Limited edition, exclusive, power upgraded. So... what are you waiting for?"

"Half a month left. Work hard!"

A group of young wizards cheered as they reviewed ancient magical texts.

When Hermione heard this news, she felt a bit regretful. Being only in her second year, she couldn't participate in the exam.

However, she had personally witnessed Professor Harp creating this ghost doll. It was her first time seeing the entire process of transmutation from raw materials to finished product. To gain the privilege of observing, she had to bring her assistant duties to the common room.

Seeing Hermione grading a thick stack of papers, the young wizards marveled. Several Ancient Runes strugglers from Gryffindor, with Wood at the forefront, hesitantly requested Hermione's leniency in grading. She sternly declined.

In just over a month, this young witch had gained a certain "prestige" throughout the school, especially among the senior students who had chosen Ancient Runes. Her delicate handwriting often appeared in their corrected papers.

In contrast, Professor Harp's handwriting was relatively scarce.

Harry and Ron looked at the papers on her desk and felt a bit relieved. Though most of it was multiple-choice and short sentence translations, grading them wasn't an easy task.

However, Hermione was enjoying herself, "I'm learning a lot from this." She told the two, with her memory, after marking a paper dozens of times, it was practically imprinted in her mind.

Is this what it's like to be a top student? Gryffindor students exchanged glances.

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