Hogwarts: Oh no, I've become Voldemort!

Of the twelve doors, excluding the entrance door, eleven doors hold mysterious contents. Cyrus knows the contents of seven of them, but the remaining four are completely unknown to him.

"The key is flying here!"

He tried the Flying Spell, and as expected, it had no effect.

"Looks like I'll have to try them one by one." After Cyrus stepped into the space, the door behind him closed by itself. Moreover, the wall with twelve doors began to spin rapidly like a giant turntable, and when it stopped, Cyrus could no longer tell which door he had come in through.

He chose the first door and pushed it open. Inside was a tall, cold room filled with towering shelves upon shelves of various sizes, each containing a dull, gray crystal ball. A few of the crystal balls still emitted a mysterious, flowing light. But most of them were like dead light bulbs, and the prophecies recorded within them had long since been broken.

"The Hall of Prophecy?"

The Hall of Prophecy held no appeal for Cyrus. On one hand, he already knew about the prophecies concerning Voldemort and Harry, and there were far too many other prophecies here; on the other hand, Voldemort's attitude towards the prophecies and his eventual fate still offered Cyrus some insight.

Sometimes, trying to break a prophecy can actually lead you into its trap.

After leaving the Hall of Prophecy, Cyrus made a mark on the door. Sure enough, the wall began to rotate again, but with the mark as a reminder, Cyrus could clearly distinguish which door he had already opened.

Then he opened the second door.

This was an exceptionally beautiful room, completely out of place with the dark and mysterious Department of Secrets. Light danced everywhere, like sunlight shining on piles of diamonds, the countless gems refracting a dazzling light.

The walls were covered with clocks that were ticking. The clocks varied in size and shape, from huge grandfather clocks to small pocket watches. The whole room was enveloped in a rapid, endless ticking sound, like the sound of thousands of tiny, orderly footsteps.

This is the Time Hall.

The Time Hall gave Cyrus a strong sense of oppression. In fact, he didn't like the overly rhythmic ticking of the clocks, which gave him a suffocating feeling of his heart being controlled by time.

However, instead of leaving immediately, he walked to the end of the room and came to a bell-shaped crystal glass dome.

The light in the entire room emanated from this source, and the dome was filled with shimmering air currents that churned and moved incessantly.

Time is abstract, but motion is eternal.

Just like the hummingbird that keeps going through cycles, life goes on and on, like the rising and falling waves, from birth to death.

I couldn't sleep because of my cat's constant noise around 5 AM, so I got up and started writing. Now I'm feeling dizzy and nauseous at work. I'll catch up on Mingyue's extra chapter today, and maybe I can catch up on Erdou's tomorrow. From now on, I'll release all updates at 11 AM; it might be more enjoyable to read them consecutively.

Chapter 106 Picking up that time converter (for Erdou Dadios)

Cyrus picked up a time converter.

This item is engraved with a spell called the Hour Reversal Spell. Theoretically, as long as one learns the Hour Reversal Spell, one can travel back in time even without a time converter. But in reality, it's not that simple.

Besides the incantation, the sand in the hourglass also possessed magic; the flowing grains seemed to be a manifestation of time itself. During a future battle within the Department of Mysteries, the glass dome before Cyrus was shattered, and the Time-Turner vanished from the world forever.

Any force involving time must be powerful and mysterious, and Cyrus naturally hopes to become the master of time.

Of course, the time converter has significant limitations, even to the point of being somewhat useless. However, Cyrus was unwilling to give up this opportunity. Sometimes, a few short hours can change a lot.

The third door Cyrus opened was one he had never known before.

Of the twelve doors, he knew seven. The Hall of Prophecy represented the future, the Hall of Time represented the past, the Hall of the Brain and the Hall of Planets represented thought and the universe, the Hall of Death represented death itself, and the locked door, according to Dumbledore, represented "love."

Behind the door he has now opened lies a series of vibrant and colorful picture albums.

"This is……?"

He walked slowly inside and saw strange models in the room, all kinds of magical plants, magical animals—even wizards were among them—everything was displayed before Cyrus's eyes like a history book.

From ancient times to the present day, those magical species have continuously evolved and gone extinct, but if we trace back to the origin of a magical mystery, we find no trace of it.

Now he knows exactly what's inside this hall.

It is magic itself!

This is destined to be a question without an answer; no one knows where magic comes from.

Cyrus noticed some manuscripts in the room, which he guessed were left by the Silence who guarded the room.

The Silencer is one of the most mysterious professions in the Ministry of Magic. In addition to keeping the secrets of the Department of Mysteries, the Silencers are also required to study the secrets that are occasionally left in the Department of Mysteries.

Of course, over the years, many things have been accepted as inexplicable. Nowadays, most of the Silent Ones are responsible for the work of the Prophecy Hall, or simply observe the changes in that strange head in the Brain Hall.

The manuscript Cyrus found was quite old; the parchment was dry, and when he held it in his hand, it felt as if it were about to crumble into pieces. The writing was barely legible, but some parts were still barely discernible.

Magic—also known as ether—is a power capable of altering reality. However, the existence of magic itself is inherently illogical. Nature operates according to fundamental laws, yet magic seems to originate outside these laws, breaking them and creating new ones.

[Research on □□□]

Cyrus reached this point, but the rest of the text was completely illegible. He tried to cast a healing spell, but it had no effect.

So he put down the parchment.

It would be unwise to spend too much time on this manuscript. If it had really contained any useful information, the Ministry of Magic would have kept it long ago. How could it have been left here like this?

After leaving the magic hall, he checked all the other rooms one by one, finding several completely locked. Forcing them open might cause quite a commotion. Besides, Cyrus didn't know what was locked inside, so he dared not open them rashly.

"The key to Vault 12 isn't in the Department of Mysteries, so where could it be?" Cyrus walked out of the black corridor and started fiddling with the time converter.

Although the key to Vault 12 is related to the secrets of ancient magic, it is ultimately just a key to Gringotts and it's normal that it has no connection to anything mysterious. This means that Cyrus has temporarily lost his search area.

Searching the entire Ministry of Magic was obviously unrealistic; it was far larger than Cyrus had imagined, and there were traces of the Unseen Stretch Charm everywhere inside. Finding a key here would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

Moreover, he no longer has the time to search bit by bit.

He could sense that the magic he had cast on the fireplace in the main hall was being disrupted; clearly, the Aurors were on their way.

"Let's leave first."

-

"Now I know why Mr. Cyrus wanted you to learn the Patronus Charm; he must have anticipated this situation."

On the Hogwarts Express, Hermione and Ron helped Harry up with concern, while Lupin took out some chocolates he had just bought and shared some with Harry.

Lupin, who had just driven away the Dementors and was still basking in the joy of seeing Harry, heard Hermione's words and immediately asked, "Did someone know in advance that all of this would happen?"

Ron and Hermione then realized that there was a fourth person in the carriage besides themselves.

“It’s…it’s one of our friends. Yes, a friend!” Ron quickly explained. “He thinks that since the Ministry of Magic sent Dementors to search for Sirius Black and Tom Riddle, Harry might be in danger, and those things aren’t trustworthy.”

Ron got more and more into it: "So he suggested that Harry learn the Patronus Charm in advance, the one you just cast, because only this charm can drive away Dementors."

“It seems your friends are very farsighted,” Lupin said kindly and gently. “Dumbledore didn’t like them either. By the way, Harry, if you want to learn the Patronus Charm, you can come to my office—I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Remus Lupin, and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this semester, barring any unforeseen circumstances.”

“Thank you, Professor Lupin.” Harry was still weak, and he was ashamed of his behavior. Dementors amplify a person’s fear, but no one had fainted from fright like him.

The train, which had been stopped, started moving again, and by nightfall, they finally arrived at Hogwarts.

Harry was taken to the school hospital for a check-up, while Hermione was called into Professor McGonagall's office alone.

“Miss Granger, I have something to say to you about your course schedule for this semester.” Professor McGonagall pursed her lips—almost her signature expression—and pulled out a timetable.

Hermione took it and glanced at it:

"At nine o'clock in the morning, divination class, Muggle studies, arithmetic divination... three classes at the same time?"

“Yes, I think you’ve noticed that last semester you were the only student who took all the courses. And given your consistent grades and performance, all the professors agree that you are capable of completing all the courses,” McGonagall said.

Although her expression didn't betray her happiness, Hermione could tell from her voice that she was very pleased.

“But how can I possibly teach three classes at the same time, Professor? Percy said you would have a way to help me solve this problem, but he didn’t say exactly how.”

“That’s right, of course he won’t tell you,”

Hermione noticed that the corners of McGonagall's mouth had turned up slightly in a rare upward curve, making her wonder if she was seeing things.

“Actually, the Time-Turner is classified, and it’s only available to a small number of outstanding students. After you submitted your course selection last year, I wrote many letters to the Ministry of Magic before they approved it.” McGonagall happily took out a small golden hourglass.

“You can reverse time by simply turning the button on it, but only for a maximum of five hours,” McGonagall said seriously. “The Time-Turner is a very dangerous magical artifact. It was the one that allowed Albus to capture Tom Riddle last semester. I hope you understand how serious this is.”

"Did Headmaster Dumbledore use this to capture Mr. Riddle?" Hermione looked at the small object in Professor McGonagall's hand in surprise.

McGonagall nodded emphatically:

"Next, I want you to remember the rules for using the time converter: First, never use it for anything other than studying..."

Hermione picked up the Time-Turner.

Chapter 107 Auror or Death Eater?

The next morning, when Cyrus transformed into the Dexter to go to work at the Ministry of Magic, the Daily Prophet reporters had already almost completely surrounded the Ministry.

Reporters carrying automatic writing quills approached every employee working at the Ministry of Magic they saw, grabbing them and demanding to know if they were aware of the attack on the Ministry the previous night. They sharply questioned whether this was a dereliction of duty by Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge.

Cyrus noticed a particularly striking woman among the reporters. She looked very vibrant, with her hair styled in elaborate, stiff, and oddly shaped curls. The hairstyle itself wasn't bad, but it looked awkward against her large chin.

She was dressed in dazzling jewelry, even her glasses had gold rims and a thin gold chain hanging from the frame. Her lips were painted redder than roses, and her nails looked like those of a zombie pulled from someone else's veins.

Rita Skeeter.

Cyrus recognized her.

She's a troublesome woman, not exactly a threat, but just disgusting.

He moved into the crowd, intending to avoid Rita Skeeter and take a detour to the Ministry of Magic. But the woman's eyes, like the compound eyes of an insect, immediately spotted Cyrus.

"John Dexter!"

Rita Skeeter shouted in a shrill voice, laughing and showing her teeth, as if she must have thought herself absolutely charming: "John Dexter, wait, wait!"

She pushed through the crowd with her sharp fingernails, acting as if they were old friends, and rushed to Cyrus, bringing with her a strong, pungent, and dizzying fragrance.

Judging solely from their ages, Dexter and Rita Skeeter were indeed classmates for a time, but in reality, they had no interaction whatsoever. Rita is the type of person who shares common ground with Lockhart; they are alike. However, Lockhart prefers to be in the limelight, while Skeeter is more inclined to fabricate baseless tales.