Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 194 Hello, Tom

Melvin stared at the murky liquid in the glass. As he removed his hands and stopped channeling magic, the grayish-tin-colored liquid quickly darkened, resembling oxidized and blackened metal. A complex stench mixed with a faint sweet and fishy smell indicated that it was highly poisonous without even tasting it.

He stared at the unidentified liquid in the golden cup, sorting out his thoughts.

The Hufflepuff Cup acknowledges the magic of pure light, capable of transforming water into a healing, milky-white liquid. However, besides Lady Hufflepuff's magic, it also harbors fragments of Voldemort's soul and ominous magic.

The transformed liquid was contaminated by a foreign magical force. It is uncertain whether this was due to the will of Voldemort's remnant soul or damage caused during the creation of the Horcrux, rendering the Chalice unusable.

"Hiss..." Yulm leaned out from the table to comfort him.

“It’s alright, at least we’ve found the correct way to use the Golden Cup.” Melvin casually stroked the young snake’s smooth scales. “But we need to find a way to remove the contaminants inside first.”

While carefully observing and waiting in silence, there were no further changes in the golden cup and the liquid, so it seemed that Voldemort had no intention of showing himself.

Melvin raised his hand and tapped his fingers on the golden cup, unleashing a torrent of incantations and magic.

【Quickly show up】

【Original form appears】

Ripples appeared on the surface of the liquid, and fine bubbles rose from the bottom. The fishy smell became stronger, but that was all. No black mist hiding scarlet eyes rose, and no hideous and terrifying face was revealed on the outer wall. The rest of the golden cup remained unchanged.

Melvin sat back in his chair, frowning as he fell into deep thought.

It's been several days since Voldemort retrieved the Cup from Gringotts' underground vault and returned to Hogwarts. If the remnant soul of Voldemort attached to the Cup can truly sense the outside environment, even the most cautious person would be unable to restrain themselves by now. They would definitely try to contact him, attempting to manipulate him through inducement and deception, trying to resurrect him or cause trouble.

But Voldemort hasn't shown himself yet, probably not because he doesn't want to, but because he can't.

Melvin thought to himself, "It must be a problem with the way we're communicating."

He found a glass bottle, emptied the unidentified toxic liquid from the golden cup, opened the window to create a whirlwind, and cleared away the fishy smell from the room. Melvin cleaned the golden cup, held it in his hands, and pondered how to communicate with it.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Can you hear me? This is Hogwarts."

Melvin spoke to the bottom of the cup, then pressed his ear close to the golden cup, trying to hear some magical answer from this conch-shaped vessel.

"..."

Melvin received no answer. The faint echo rose from the bottom of the cup, and after being transmitted through the metal vibrations, it sounded slightly muffled. It was just his own echo, without any eerie murmurs that would drive anyone mad.

After a moment's thought, Melvin tore off a few pages of parchment, shredded them, threw them into the gold cup, lit it, and stared expectantly at the rising steam.

Centaur tribes and African shamans share similar divination methods, burning different spices and firewood, and interpreting the shape of the smoke and the direction of the sparks to make prophecies. Egyptian priests also put spices into campfires, as the smoke is said to reveal the souls lingering on earth.

Melvin thought this should be the orthodox way of divination. The divination classroom in the North Tower was always filled with the smoke of spices, and he found it pungent and choking several times when he passed by.

A few wisps of gray smoke rose, carrying a faint smoky smell and strange shapes, but his long-lost pen pal was nowhere to be seen.

Yulm watched from the sidelines with its head tilted. For the next half hour, it watched as Melvin poured ink, juice, champagne, and milk into the golden cup. He even tried truth serum, but no noseless face was ever reflected on the surface of the liquid.

Melvin slumped into his chair and sighed, "It can't be human blood, can it?"

……

Monday morning.

Today's classes weren't very busy, and Dumbledore, unusually, attended breakfast, sitting with the other professors at the head table, discussing interesting things that had happened at the school recently.

Professor McGonagall was the only one who didn't participate. She listened quietly to their conversation, spreading jam on her bread, taking a bite with a blank expression, chewing and swallowing. Unable to resist any longer, she turned to the white-bearded headmaster and complained:
"Albus, if the school has any additional expenses in the future, could you please discuss them with me first?"

Dumbledore was telling a corny joke when he heard the vice-principal's complaint. He paused for a moment, thought for a second, and then asked, "You mean the house-elves' jobs?"

"I don't disagree with paying house-elves, but you should have notified me first. Otherwise, the financial statements and accounts won't match, and the wizards on the board of directors will start complaining when the school year ends."

"I'm so sorry, Minerva..."

Dumbledore apologized repeatedly, showing no temper whatsoever, befitting the headmaster of Hogwarts. Melvin remained silent, and upon realizing he was the one who had caused the trouble, turned away to the other side, not wanting to provoke the vice-headmaster.

Professor Sprout, who happened to be standing nearby, was also complaining, and Melvin happened to overhear him.

“Last time I went to the Ravenclaw common room, they wouldn’t let me in, and I left a philosophical question. When I got to the Hufflepuff common room, the kids invited me to lunch and took me to visit the orchard, but they left right after the visit without leaving anything behind.”

Professor Flitwick smiled knowingly, as if he were watching a good show.

Melvin couldn't refute it and could only promise to do it next time, his tone and expression somewhat similar to the principal's.

After chatting and laughing through breakfast, the professors left for their respective classrooms. Melvin seized the opportunity to stop Snape, took a glass bottle from his pocket, and showed it to him:

"Professor Snape, I got a bottle of potion while I was out over the weekend. I don't know what it does. It's quite mysterious. I'd like to ask you to help me examine it."

Snape stared at the glass bottle containing an unidentified grayish-black liquid. He frowned slightly. Normally, one doesn't judge the nature of a potion by its color, but the contents of this bottle gave him a very bad first impression; it was clearly a highly poisonous and malevolent potion.

Moreover, it was a poison he had never seen before, and he was certain that there was no record of a similar potion in the books.

"If it's inconvenient, I'll have to ask Ms. Pomfrey for help at the school clinic."

"..."

Snape took the glass bottle, looked up at Melvin, and said coldly, "The testing timeframe is uncertain. I'll let you know when the results are in."

Melvin watched his retreating figure disappear into the distance, shook his head, and before he could even express his feelings, he heard the old headmaster's voice from beside him.

“Severus is a very responsible potions professor.”

“I think so too.” Melvin wasn’t surprised and walked upstairs with him.

“I actually wanted to ask him for some of the Living Hell Potion, but Severus forbids anyone from mentioning it in front of him, as it might remind him of your hypothesis about daffodils.”

Dumbledore sighed, "I just wanted some magic potion to help me sleep. You know, it's easy to have insomnia when you get older. Last night I forgot to get hot cocoa from the kitchen, and I couldn't fall asleep until one in the morning. I had to get up and look through the Pensieve to relive my memories."

“Meditation basin…developing solution…” Melvin’s heart stirred slightly.

……

Melvin walked into the office, put down his textbook, and casually beckoned the gold cup from the shelf.

Yurm curled up lazily inside, coiled up in circles.

He took the baby snake out and threw it on the sofa, wiped the golden cup clean with a tissue, and inspired by Dumbledore, he decided to try using developing solution.

It's not the developing potion for printing magical moving photos, but a potion poured into the mirror. Wright originally imitated the potion he made by mimicking the clouds in the Pensieve, which can play back memories as images.

What could be more suitable for developing solutions than fragments of a soul containing memories?

“Tom, my dear pen pal, we can finally meet.” Melvin unscrewed the glass bottle and poured in the silvery mist of the medicine.

Light, wispy clouds drifted out, creating a stage effect reminiscent of dry ice. Within the wisps of silvery-white vapor, the handsome face of a young man was revealed—

Dark hair, pale skin, and a pair of strikingly light-colored eyes.

Based on the timeline, Voldemort obtained the Hufflepuff Cup shortly after graduating and was working as a clerk at Borgin Burke's. He was not yet 20 years old, and his face had not yet been corrupted by dark magic, but some signs were already showing. His eyes were slightly red and had vertical pupils, and the drifting silver mist was mixed with some black.

This is the wizard whose name cannot even be mentioned.

"Hello, Tom."

Melvin nodded to him.

(End of this chapter)