From Hogwarts to Sturhaven

This is the question Hermione least wants to face, because answering it means she has to tell a second lie.

“…When I saw that mountain-sized monster walking towards me with a wooden club, I was so terrified that I even closed my eyes. Then I heard a ‘bang!’…” Hermione made an explosion gesture, “and the corridor is now like this…I’m so sorry, Professor.”

After saying that, Hermione lowered her messy head, trying not to look at the suspicious expressions on the professors' faces.

With Ivy and the Elemental Orb not around, if Hermione were to tell them everything, she might not be able to get to bed on time tonight.

“Oh…” Professor McGonagall didn’t press the matter. She simply patted Hermione on the shoulder reassuringly. “Today must have been a tough day for you, Miss Granger. Well, it’s time to go back and rest. The kitchen will bring the food to the common room. You should enjoy the festive atmosphere.”

“Professor McGonagall…” Hermione looked up, feeling extremely guilty. Not only had she lied to Professor McGonagall, but “you didn’t even deduct a single point from me…”

“If this weren’t a classroom, I would have even given you a few extra points,” Professor McGonagall said, her usual serious expression returning. “Now, before I change my mind, go back.”

Hermione nodded hesitantly and ran away quickly.

“Professor McGonagall, don’t tell me you didn’t realize she was lying.” Snape watched Hermione’s figure disappear down the stairs before turning to Professor McGonagall and speaking slowly.

“So what, Severus? I think the professors who neglected their duty to let the troll into the castle are more deserving of condemnation than the little witch who wandered around during the Halloween feast.” Professor McGonagall gave her two colleagues a reproachful look, then raised her wand amidst Quirrell’s sobs, preparing to repair the corridor bombarded by the fireball.

“Minerva.” A voice called to her; it was Dumbledore.

To prepare for Halloween Eve, Dumbledore specially changed into a rather childlike robe, embroidered with bats, and with a small pumpkin lantern hanging from the top of his wizard hat.

“And Severus, go and appease your students. Leave this to me.” Dumbledore appeared from the other end of the corridor, nimbly stepping over the scattered pieces of armor, trying to avoid getting the charred, troll-like creatures stuck to the soles of his shoes.

Snape's dark eyes swept over Dumbledore before settling on Quirrell: "Professor Quirrell, the euphoric potion will make you feel much better. Perhaps I can prepare some for you?"

"Thank you! Thank you..." Quirrell thanked her repeatedly, sobbing, and left with Snape.

Professor McGonagall watched the two figures disappear completely, then strode up to Dumbledore and asked in a low voice, "Are you sure about your plan...?"

Under Dumbledore's stern gaze, Professor McGonagall could not continue. She whispered, "Alright... but remember Dumbledore, my students are still just children!"

“But some of them are born with a heavy destiny.” Dumbledore shook his head at her, indicating that the conversation should not continue.

Professor McGonagall didn't press the matter further and turned to leave.

“Perhaps we should talk,” Dumbledore said softly in the empty corridor.

"Heh." Ivy appeared with a low chuckle. "I heard something interesting."

"Ingenious magic," Dumbledore exclaimed. "I have never seen a spell that can change someone's appearance. If I hadn't looked closely, I would have been fooled."

Ivy understood that he was referring to disguise; it seemed that the senior Slytherin student had attended the banquet with his own face on display.

“I’ll take this as a compliment,” Ivy asked. “There’s a dark wizard in the castle, is that part of your plan?”

"Quirinus is a pitiful man, but I believe he still has a chance to turn back." Dumbledore made no attempt to hide his identity, directly pointing out Quirrell's background, which meant that he had noticed Quirrell's situation from the beginning.

Chapter 46 Ancient Magic

"So, you did all this for Quirrell?" Ivy asked, watching Dumbledore pull out his wand and slowly restore the corridor to its original state. "And not for some boy who survived a great calamity?"

“I… sigh…” Dumbledore sighed, “How much do you know, Mr. Doom?”

“Not many.” Ivy saw a hint of pity on Dumbledore’s sprightly face. “For example, the three-headed dog in that classroom on the fourth floor? Or the treasure that Hagrid took from Gringotts? As far as I know, Harry went with him.”

“Let me guess, is this some kind of test, or some kind of reward? Or perhaps both?” Ivy carefully observed the expression on Dumbledore’s face. He had regained the composure and wisdom of the greatest wizard of the 20th century.

"Can I trust you, Mr. Doom?" Dumbledore's blue eyes shone even in the dim light, and his face was solemn.

“Hogwarts will always be my home,” Ivy repeated what he had once said to Dumbledore in the headmaster’s office. “And my wand is made of silver linden wood.”

The holder of the Silver Linden Wand is usually considered to be skilled in prophecy and Legilimency. Ivy is reminding Dumbledore that he has discovered Dumbledore is spying on his mind.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Dumbledore blinked his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles. “I’m quite old now and don’t remember many things. If I have offended you, I believe you, a young man, will forgive me.”

“I must remind you,” Ivy said with an impeccable smile, “that I’m 144 years old this year.”

“But you’re still a first-year student at Hogwarts, so you can surely forgive your senile headmaster.” Dumbledore directed the armored figure in the distance to pick up the helmet that had fallen to the ground and return to its original position.

"As you wish." Ivy didn't intend to continue arguing with Dumbledore about this matter; sometimes, making concessions temporarily was for greater benefits.

“It’s getting late, and my stomach is growling. I hope they can leave me some food.” Ivy nodded slightly, as if bidding farewell to Dumbledore. “If possible, I think I should go back to bed and sleep, Headmaster. You know, being sealed in crystal for over a hundred years has shrunk my body. To avoid affecting my development, I should try not to stay up late.”

Dumbledore offered no further comment, and Ivy turned and left.

But he had only taken his second step when Dumbledore's voice came from behind him: "Ivy!"

He switched to a more intimate form of address, no longer calling Ivy "Mr. Doom".

“Professor?” Ivy turned around, waiting for Dumbledore to continue.

There was a long and solemn silence, but Ivy remained very patient. There was a reason he was thrown into Slytherin by the Sorting Hat; even snakes are very patient.

"Ivy, how much do you know about Voldemort?" Dumbledore finally asked softly.

“Oh, you mean the stuff in the books.” Ivy was referring to the entire Harry Potter series, though no one would have gotten the hint. “Including the Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, and of course, the part about him being killed by his own Killing Curse.”

“Harry,” Dumbledore’s voice sounded deep, “his fate is tied to Voldemort’s. And I believe Voldemort is not dead.”

Ivy noticed that Dumbledore's gaze was fixed on the wand in his hand, and immediately understood that Dumbledore was alluding to the prophecy. So he followed up on Dumbledore's words and said, "So... a prophecy?"

“You are truly amazingly intelligent, Ivy.” Dumbledore looked at Ivy again. “I can hardly believe you only studied at Hogwarts for a year.”

“You’re not the first person to say that,” Ivy shrugged. “So what do you need me to do?”

“Help him, help Harry. He’s just a child,” Dumbledore said. “I will uncover the secret of Voldemort’s immortality in the meantime, so that he won’t bring any more disaster to the wizarding world.”

“If your other students heard this, they would be very upset about your favoritism,” Ivy chuckled, making a teasing remark. “So, let’s talk about compensation.”

“Just as you can see.” Ivy shook her Slytherin relic robes slightly. “I am a Slytherin, and I am proud of it.”

Dumbledore's expression relaxed considerably, and he asked, "Then what do you seek, Ivy?"

“I am a rather greedy person.” Ivy knew herself well. “Endless knowledge, absolute power, nothing more.”

“That’s nothing at all.” Dumbledore’s tone was full of surprise. After a pause, he realized that Ivy was not joking, so he added, “The most powerful force I know is love.”

“Of course, I understand.” Ivy nodded.

"You understand?" Dumbledore asked in return. For a brief moment just now, Ivy had overlapped with Voldemort, or rather, a young Tom Riddle, in his eyes.

“It’s not just love,” Ivy explained. “The power of ancient wizards originated from emotions: hatred, disgust, jealousy, anger, sacrifice, expectation, dedication… These emotions could enhance the power of ancient magic. The ancient magical vault buried beneath Hogwarts more than a hundred years ago contained the emotions collected by the ancient wizards.”

“I saw it in Harry too.” Ivy ignored Dumbledore’s widening eyes and continued explaining, “It was a fiery and rich ancient magic, an ancient magic about love.”

“Since you have already…” Dumbledore trailed off, “there is nothing more I can do to help you with ancient magic.”

“Don’t forget, I only studied at Hogwarts for a year,” Ivy reminded him with a smile.

Dumbledore laughed too, his white beard swaying merrily as it reached his chest: "As you know, the password to the Headmaster's office is Lemon Hard Candy, and I welcome you to visit anytime."

Ivy laughed along, and the corridor was filled with a joyful atmosphere.

"Oh, right!" Dumbledore suddenly seemed to remember something. "That magical artifact that blew up this corridor like this, you lent it to Miss Granger, didn't you?"

The cheerful laughter abruptly stopped, and Ivy looked at him with a straight face: "I've never heard of any magical items."

“Whether it’s yours or not, Ivy, I must warn you not to use such powerful magic in the castle again.” Dumbledore glanced around shrewdly, then added softly, “At least don’t let the other professors find out.”

Chapter 47 Gryffindor Common Room

"Pig nose." Hermione returned to the portrait of the Fat Lady after leaving the crime scene and whispered the password for the day.

As the portrait spun and made way for the entrance, Hermione was immediately enveloped in the joyful, festive atmosphere of the common room.

Students were everywhere, holding butterbeers, wearing all sorts of strange hats, laughing and talking loudly between the sofas and fireplaces, with various pumpkin pies, cupcakes, jams and chocolate sauces on the tables.

Thinking about everything that had happened today, Hermione felt extremely hungry.

"Hermione..."

Just as she was about to join the crowd and have a good meal, a voice came from behind her. It was Ron, and Harry was standing beside him looking uneasy.

“I…I’m sorry,” Ron apologized softly. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that…I mean, are you alright?”

"Because you didn't come to the dinner party. When Professor Quirrell burst in saying there was a troll in the basement, everyone was terrified," Harry added. "We were going to look for you, but Percy caught us when we ran out of the group."

“So… he led us to see Professor McGonagall.” Ron avoided Hermione’s eyes, as if telling his teacher something terribly wrong.

"You didn't encounter any trolls, did you, Hermione?" Harry finally asked.

Hermione didn't know how to answer the question. Should she tell them that she had covered a wall with 12-foot trolls?

"You... didn't get points deducted by Professor McGonagall, did you?" Hermione thought for a long time before finally asking this question.

Harry and Ron looked at each other, completely baffled as to how Hermione's brain worked.

“Of course not! Miss Know-It-All!” Fred and George appeared out of nowhere, surrounding Hermione and answering the question for their little brother.

"Miss Know-It-All?" Hermione had a bad feeling. "Who is she talking about?"

"Of course it's Hermione Granger, who blew up a mountain-sized monster with just one spell!" George and Fred grabbed Hermione's arms and lifted her up, starting to run around the Gryffindor common room.

"Gryffindor! Gryffindor!" Fred sang cheerfully.

"Come and welcome your king!" George echoed.

"One curse can destroy the entire corridor!" The two sang in unison, their voices sounding like two bald crows.

"A giant monster the size of a small mountain!"

"There are still twelve sets of metal armor!"