Hogwarts: Becoming the White Lord from Breathing

Chapter 106 Caliban Mortos Visits the Ministry of Magic
"Where should I begin?"

The two remained silent for a while, until an unfortunate cloud covered the moon, and Helena finally spoke.

Although after a brief silence, she realized she had misjudged the boy before her—but not necessarily, after all, Tom had deceived her in the same way back then.

First, patiently and openly accept her pain and helplessness, then stab her when she trusts you most.

“There was once a young wizard as good as you. He was a student of Slytherin named Tom Riddle.”

Her gaze was distant, as if she had returned to that long-ago moment.

"After I became a ghost, I rarely came into contact with others. Tom was almost the first person to approach me. His intelligence and patience made me very happy and appreciated."

Despite his exceptional abilities, he never tried to show off his superiority. He always listened patiently to me and offered advice. Gradually, I began to believe that he was a trustworthy person.

Helena recounted her past with Voldemort, her eyes filled with sorrow, which made Damon shake his head.

What does what that scumbag Tom did have to do with me? You were emotionally deceived by him, and now you're wary of me?
Ultimately, he got the location of what he wanted from me.

"What is it?"

"."

Helena did not answer the question.

She gradually began to feel that her mother's crown might not be a good thing. She died because of the crown, her mother was heartbroken and fell seriously ill because she stole the crown, and the blood man Barrow also killed her because of all this.

Now that the crown has disappeared, let's not let more people know about it.

Especially this exceptionally talented but dangerous young man.

"Let's stop here for today. I hope you won't be as evil as Tom. You know what happened to him."

Helena maintained basic courtesy as she bid farewell to Damon and quickly floated away.

Damon had just gotten up to leave when a blood-soaked ghost appeared before him again—"What did you talk about with her? She doesn't seem very happy."

Ghost, Blood Man Barrow.

He was also the murderer of Helena.

"What does this have to do with you?"

Damon glanced at him, not wanting to answer.

Blood Man Barrow watched Damon's departing figure with a fierce glint in his eyes. He didn't make a move, not believing he could be a match for the boy. Besides, he wanted to continue living to atone for Helena's sins.

After that night, the subtle sense of being spied on by Damon finally disappeared.

Helena doesn't completely trust Damon, but her way of keeping a watchful eye has become more direct; she now appears directly in Damon's line of sight, openly monitoring him.

The two would occasionally sit together to watch the moon, but not often, mostly on Friday nights, and Helena always stayed very short. Her stated reason was that she didn't want Damon to violate the rules of nighttime outings, but no one knew the specifics.

After all, this restriction was practically meaningless for Damon, and Helena clearly knew that too.

October is approaching, and because Damon is a big fan of the Half-Blood Prince, all the young wizards have noticed that Professor Snape has been in a good mood lately, even though he is still deducting points from Gryffindor.

Through Fawkes, Dumbledore provided Damon with a room where he could apparite—his office.

From now on, Damon can apparate in his office and use it to return.

Although it was somewhat inconvenient, Damon had no choice but to accept it.

After disguising himself in Dumbledore's room, Damon, or rather Caliban Mortos, went to the Ministry of Magic at noon on the first day of October, after attending his morning classes as usual.

The three-year Auror training program was about to begin, though he didn't intend for it to take that long. *Snap*

Accompanied by the faint sound of firecrackers, Damon appeared next to a dilapidated red telephone booth—several panes of glass were missing, and behind it was a wall covered in graffiti.

It hardly looks like the entrance to the Ministry of Magic.

Although he had only been there once, Damon walked in with practiced ease. The phone was hanging crookedly on the wall, but he didn't mind and simply picked it up and dialed the number.

62442
As the dial pad spun back to its original position, a woman's cold voice rang out from the phone booth. It was loud and clear, as if an invisible woman was standing right beside him.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and the purpose of your visit."

"Caliban Mortos, attend Auror training."

“Thank you,” the woman said in a cold voice. “Guest, please take the badge and pin it to your clothing.”

With a clang and a clatter, a square silver badge slid out of the metal slot normally used to dispense coins, bearing the inscription: Caliban Mortos, Trainee Auror.

He pinned the badge to the front of his t-shirt, and the woman's voice rang out again.

"You will need to go through security and register your wand at the security checkpoint, which is located at the far end of the main hall."

The ground of the phone booth suddenly trembled, and Damon slowly sank into the ground, watching the sidewalk outside the glass window rise higher and higher until darkness fell over his head. He could hear the monotonous, harsh scraping sound of the phone booth sinking into the ground.

About a minute later, a thin golden light shone on his feet, then gradually widened, expanding to his body and finally shining directly on his face.

Damon snapped his fingers casually, and the light shining in front of him was refracted.

"The Ministry of Magic hopes you have a pleasant day," the woman's voice said.

The phone booth door suddenly opened, and Damon walked into the magnificent hall. The floor was made of dark wood that was polished to a shine, and the peacock blue ceiling was inlaid with glittering gold symbols that kept moving and changing, like a giant high-altitude bulletin board.

Damon walked past the fountain in the middle of the foyer, striding forward, and finally stopped in front of a sign that read 'Security Check'.

The wizard, dressed in a peacock blue robe and with a sparsely shaved beard, was still idly reading the Daily Prophet.

When Damon arrived, he wasn't in a hurry. He slowly put down his newspaper and said listlessly:

"Come this way."

He raised a long, thin, and resilient golden rod, like a car antenna, and swept it across Damon's chest and back from top to bottom, like a security check in his past life.

"The wand."

Damon handed over the wand, and the wizard tossed it onto a strange-looking brass machine that resembled a single-pane balance.

The machine began to vibrate slightly, and a narrow strip of parchment swiftly emerged from a slit at the bottom. The wizard tore the parchment off and read the words on it.

"13 inches, the core of the staff is the heart and nerve of the fire dragon, it's been used for a year, right?"

"Yes."

“I’ll keep this,” he said, sticking the parchment into a small brass nail. “You take this back.”

He returned the wand to Damon.

After this primitive, somewhat nostalgic examination, Damon set off for the Auror command center on the second basement floor.

He probably didn't expect that because he skipped the morning training, the only four members were talking about him, wondering where he got his connections and how he dared to be so bold.

At the same time, they prayed in their hearts that such a person would never join their ranks in the future.

(End of this chapter)