Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 273: The Prophecy Fulfilled?

Lights out time arrived, the torches along the corridors and staircases were quietly extinguished, the portraits and wizards dispersed, the clouds in the sky outside the window drifted slowly, the moonlight dimmed, and the castle became even more tranquil.

Upon hearing the reply, Melvin, sitting behind his desk, revealed a thoughtful expression. The black gemstone ring in the glass dish gleamed with an eerie light, and the rough, antique-looking ring, immersed in the potion, was absorbing and consuming the silvery-white potion.

"Tearing the soul can increase magic power, but are there any other effects?" Melvin asked from behind the desk, with a hint of curiosity. "I mean, the soul is still a realm that wizards have not yet set foot in, involving the ultimate mysteries of magic. Repeatedly tearing the soul... will there be any discomfort?"

"I'm willing to pay the price for this!"

Riddle sneered, understanding the implication in his words. "We were once close partners, you should know me, Melvin. I am a half-blood wizard from a Muggle orphanage, with no support in the wizarding world. I don't tear my soul to create Horcruxes, and I have no family background. Tom Riddle is just an unknown ordinary wizard who, after graduating, wastes his life on a job at the Ministry of Magic for a meager salary. Perhaps after decades, he can become the Director."

“Even without Horcruxes, with your talent, you could become a world-renowned wizard.” Melvin’s words weren’t flattery; Tom Riddle truly had that ability.

"But I would rather form the Death Eaters and become the Dark Lord, feared by all."

Riddle seemed to recall a long-forgotten past, his face contorted with rage as he whispered, "Immortal life, boundless magical power, and a negligible price to pay for it—a wise person knows the right choice."

"The right choice..."

“The true Dark Lord will return, and I will regain my body, stronger and invincible. Even Dumbledore will fear my name, because of your help, my friend Melvin Levent,” Riddle whispered. “I am willing to share with you the secret of immortality and power.”

Melvin didn't directly answer his question: "I know the Dark Lord will be resurrected soon, but it will take some time, so don't worry."

The developing agent added to the glass dish ran out just in time, and Riddle's illusory figure disappeared from the office, making the room suddenly feel much more spacious.

"I'd rather pay the price to tear my soul apart for immortality and magic."

Melvin dangled the ring: "Looking back now, that price wasn't insignificant at all."

Judging from Voldemort's later actions, the price he paid was heavy enough. His mind sank completely into darkness, his personality became violent, cruel, and bloodthirsty, and he even lost some of his rationality.

Tearing apart the soul can also increase magic power; perhaps even the despicable Horcrux inventor, Helbo, didn't discover this effect.

In just over a decade, Riddle created five Horcruxes, and Voldemort's power grew rapidly, even rivaling that of the centenarian legendary wizard Dumbledore, making him arguably the most powerful dark wizard in history...

Melvin also possessed a method for continuously increasing his magic power, and he naturally compared the two methods.

Tearing the soul is essentially extracting one's own magical energy. It is fast and has a strong amplification effect, but the soul is not infinite. There is a limit to the number of times it can be split. Even Voldemort could only tear it into seven parts, which was his limit.

Drawing upon dissipated emotions for transformation is like acquiring magic from the outside world. It's slow but sustainable, and it makes one's own state more stable without the risk of dementia.

However, Voldemort may have chosen more than just Horcruxes. During the period when he led the Death Eaters to rampage, he spread his fearsome reputation far and wide, and even cursed his name so that it could be sensed when he chanted it.

He even suspected that Voldemort might have found a way to extract fear and convert it into magic, or at least consciously tried to do so.

At this very moment, it is also the dead of night in Albania. Is Voldemort, who is attached to a venomous snake, hunting and storing food, worrying about the coming winter?

The hurricane stirred up by his own butterfly has almost swept across the entire wizarding world. Will Voldemort be able to wait for his loyal servant to appear on time at the Goblet of Fire next year?

Melvin was quite keen to meet with him in person.

……

Monday morning, the main guest seat in the auditorium.

Melvin unscrewed a new jar of raspberry jam, took all the ingredients for breakfast at once, and began to enjoy it. He spread jam on a slice of bread, then added bacon and a fried egg, moving slowly and leisurely.

This contrasts sharply with the colleagues sitting around him.

Dumbledore was absent from breakfast again. Professor McGonagall ate silently, without saying a word. She had a full day of classes and was also preparing for the upcoming Halloween. Lupin was also silent, swallowing his food with a pale face. The aftereffects of the full moon and the wolfsbane potion had left him in poor condition.

Pomfrey, Sprout, and Snape, the medical trio, also looked rather grim. With the recent change of seasons and the drop in temperature, many students had caught colds, and they had to work overtime after class to prepare potions.

"Hey! Hey! What's going on? You don't have classes or work this morning, but we're very busy!"

Flitwick sat down next to Melvin and protested, “If you’re bored and have nothing better to do, come help Hagrid and me with our Halloween decorations.”

"How can I not have anything to do? Don't treat elective course professors like they're not professors. Besides, Muggle research is actually a required course."

Melvin retorted confidently, his tone still leisurely, "Even if it's work outside of class, I'm still in charge of purchasing for the Halloween dinner. The vendors in Hogsmeade specifically requested me to handle things. I just have fewer classes on Mondays, but I'm actually quite busy."

Several deans and professors of the required courses were seething with anger. Flitwick was so angry that he blew his beard: "The procurement for the Halloween dinner isn't something you can do alone. Didn't Minerva already make the arrangements? Let's go to Hogsmeade together to talk about it during the event weekend at the end of the month!"

“The procurement should be completed soon, and we’ll still have time to go have a drink at Three Brooms,” Melvin said, subtly changing the subject.

"You're treating!"

"I'll pay the bill."

At the end-of-month pub party, someone paid the bill, and the atmosphere at the head table immediately became lively. They clinked glasses with milk and juice, passed jam here and bread there, and were exceptionally harmonious.

“Silvanus also invited us to get together. After healing Neville’s parents last time, many Aurors were grateful for it. During this time, the Aurors patrolled Hogsmeade and knocked on doors to greet us every time they came to his street.”

Sprout cut a piece of roasted tomato.

"It's been three or four months since that guy escaped from prison during the summer. Do the Aurors still patrol regularly?" Professor Victor, who was doing arithmetic and divination, asked, glancing at Lupin inadvertently. They knew that Lupin and Black used to be friends.

"It's not just Aurors, and it's not just Hogsmeades. Didn't you see the Dementors still hovering around the entrance to Hogwarts and in the sky?"

Flitwick grumbled, “Those annoying Dementors are always hovering around, affecting the business of many merchants. Even the Honeydukes’ candy-delivering owls can’t find their way.”

"..."

Professor McGonagall sighed.

The main table fell silent suddenly, the only sound the clinking of cutlery against plates. Lu Ping, sitting on the outer edge, put down his cutlery, wiped his mouth, and said, "Everyone, I won't be attending the gathering at the end of the month. I..."

“I’ve heard that the patrolling Aurors sometimes have a drink at the Three Brooms.”

Melvin interrupted his refusal, "We can ask when this martial law will be lifted. I know a few Aurors quite well, like Tonks and Remus, whom I met at the party last time."

Lu Ping opened his mouth with a flicker of his eyes, but the words of refusal stuck in his throat, and he suddenly couldn't say anything.

...around the college table.

The young wizards sat under the magical dome of the Great Hall, which also served as a stop for the postman. Several rows of skylights opened in the center of the dome, through which owls would enter, carrying packages and letters, and land in front of the students.

After breakfast was almost finished, some students began to check their homework due that day, and those who had missed something quickly looked up and copied it. The third-year Gryffindor students were gathered in the middle of the table, with their heads down copying their homework. Only a few stood up straight, Neville being one of them.

Neville pulled several thick pages of family letters from the envelope, along with a signed weekend activity consent form.

"Isn't this the consent form that was sent out during the summer vacation? Why is yours only being sent from home now? Did you forget it at home again?" Ron asked curiously. He had just finished completing the star chart and looked up to see two names signed below: Frank Longbottom and Alice Longbottom.

“My grandma was worried I might lose it if I brought it to school, so she mailed it from home. It was originally signed by her, but later my parents signed it.” Neville grinned as he looked at the two Longbottom names below.

Harry lowered his head, poking at the chickpeas with his silver fork, his eyes dim.

Seamus, seemingly oblivious to his dejection, asked casually, "Harry, did your consent form...did your aunt and uncle sign it?"

"Yes, it's already signed."

Harry answered in a low voice, his eyes flickering slightly, "When I was staying at the Leaky Cauldron before school started, Professor Levent suggested that I write a letter back to Privet Drive. They didn't reply, but they did sign a consent form..."

Ron leaned in and put his arm around his shoulder: "Great! We can go to the candy store together, then visit the Zoko joke shop that George and Fred have been raving about, and then go on an adventure to the Scream Shack!"

"The Quidditch boutique is worth visiting again and again."

"And butterbeer with three brooms."

"..."

Seeing his friends chattering away, Harry suddenly felt less sad and felt grateful to Professor Levent once again.

He looked up at the guest of honor. The professor's philosophy was a bit strange. He didn't seem to expect him to reconcile with the Dursleys. He felt that both sides had their own reasons and there was no need to eliminate the estrangement between them. As long as they could live together without feeling awkward, that would be fine.

……

With anticipation for Hogsmeade, the time came to mid-October.

Seemingly sensing the students' enthusiasm, the weather cleared up for the first time, and the autumn sun felt warm on their skin. The little wizards would often sneak out of the castle during breaks to enjoy the rare sunshine. It was more convenient for students taking outdoor classes, as they could also bask in the sun during class.

On the clearing beside the Quidditch pitch, Mrs. Hooch's whistle blew intermittently as the new students stumbled and practiced flying. On the edge of the Forbidden Forest, in the paddock, Hagrid guided them to touch Mora the Rat, startling the timid witch into a scream.

Inside the third greenhouse, the herbal medicine class had ended. The third-grade students took off their gardener's gloves, shook the dirt off their collars, and walked out of the smelly shed.

Today's lesson is about picking poppy pods. They have to peel open the plump purple pods from the pods and pick the shiny beans and put them into a wooden bucket. The whole process must be done gently, because if there is any slight bump, the mature beans will burst open right in front of you.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione tended to a bean plant, their clothes covered in bits of bean and sap, the plant's fragrance mingled with a faint bean smell.

"Whoosh..."

Ron sniffed, a look of disgust on his face, and a hint of resentment in his expression, because they hadn't made any mistakes; they were just implicated by the group next door.

Lavender was out of sorts and kept getting distracted in class, causing several beans to explode and injuring everyone around her.

"I should have stayed away from them."

"..."

Harry and Hermione remained silent. They could both tell that Lavender was in low spirits and couldn't stop sobbing during class, probably because there was some bad news from home.

They could still hear Lavender sobbing softly ahead. Parvati put her arm around Lavender's shoulder, quietly comforting her while explaining something to the classmate next to her... Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance and quietly quickened their pace to follow.

"What happened to Lavender, Parvati?"

"This morning she received an urgent letter from home that her pet rabbit, Bingley, had been killed by a fox."

"This……"

The classmates around him started offering their comforting words all at once:

"It is with great regret to hear this news, Lavender."

"Don't be too sad, Lavender."

"Oh!"

Lavender let out a wail, which only deepened her sorrow. She said sadly, "I should have known! This tragedy could have been avoided. Do you know what day it is today?"

Everyone looked at each other, and finally all looked at Lavender.

October 16th!

Lavender revealed the answer: "Professor Trelawney warned me at the beginning of the semester that what I feared would happen on October 16th! Remember? She was right, she was right!"

The group immediately became lively.

“I should have believed her. If I had reminded the family to take good care of Bingley, it might not have died. But I listened to Professor Levent and thought that prophecies were all hoaxes and just psychological tricks.”

Hermione immediately became unhappy when the blame was suddenly shifted to Professor Levent.

"What does this have to do with prophecy? Trelawney's prophecy didn't mention Binge at all. Were you ever aware that you were afraid Binge would be eaten by a fox?"

"It might not be eaten by a fox, but I'm obviously worried it will die."

"..."

What followed was a monotonous and boring debate. Many things in the world are not black and white, and magic is even more difficult to explain. One person talked about logic and reason, while the other talked about intuition and prophecy. Neither of them could convince the other, but the students next to them listened with great interest.

Harry stood in the autumn sunlight, feeling a chill on his back.

He caught a glimpse of a large black dog in the woods out of the corner of his eye.

(End of this chapter)