From Hogwarts to Sturhaven

Its black fur was matted and tangled, hanging wetly on its back. Harry then realized that it was much thinner than he had imagined.

Harry reached out and scratched the big black dog's ear: "How did you disappear last time? Everyone says you were just a hallucination, but I think maybe it's because all the dogs living in this castle have a bit of magic!"

The big, wet dog crouched down and wagged its tail at Harry in a friendly manner.

"Who are you calling a dog!" Footsteps came from outside the door. Filch had clearly misunderstood Harry's words.

Harry would be in even bigger trouble if he saw the big, wet black dog. So he jumped up and stood in front of the dog.

The door to the castle steward's office was flung open, and Filch glared at Harry with angry eyes.

Then he moved to the envelope containing the correspondence course information on the table.

"Did you... did you see it... how dare you..." Filch's face turned bright red in an instant, and he asked incoherently.

Harry was about to explain, but Filch didn't give him the chance.

"You guessed it, didn't you?" Harry had never seen Filch so angry. Even when Fred and George threw dung bombs at him, his eyes never bulged out like this.

“…guess what?” Harry repeated anxiously, taking a small step back before stopping abruptly as his leg touched the nose of the large dog behind him.

“What can a second-year wizard… do with that little stick?” Filch spat as he approached Harry step by step. “Make a spark? Create a flash of light? Make a stench?”

“I know you all look down on me! Everyone in the castle—even Hagrid with his broken wand—is better than me!” Filch stretched out ten thin, bony fingers, as if he were about to grab Harry’s neck at any moment.

“I didn’t look down on you!” Harry quickly defended himself, though he secretly agreed with him to some extent.

“Even if…even if I’m a…a dud!” Filch gasped for breath, as if he was about to run out of air, “that’s no reason for you to insult me!”

Filch's outstretched hands ultimately failed to grab Harry's neck; instead, they shoved him hard.

Harry slipped on the muddy ground and tripped over a large dog behind him, so he fell straight to the ground.

"Ouch!"

Harry's Quidditch uniform was specially reinforced at the chest, elbows, knees, and hips, and it was now soaked with water. Therefore, the fall didn't actually hurt much; he was just startled.

"Woof!" But the big black dog behind him didn't think so, barking wildly as it charged at Filch.

Not only is the big black dog's fur black, but even its tongue and eyes are black. Even if it stands still, it's hard to tell which side is the head and which side is the tail without careful searching.

But when it reveals its gleaming white teeth, anyone who sees it will immediately understand that this dark mass is not to be trifled with.

Filch was startled and took half a step back before the big black dog bit his leg.

In the dim light, Filch waved his arms wildly, thinking that Harry had used some kind of dark magic on him.

“I’m a faculty member! You’ll be fired!” Filch shouted as he reached out to pull the growling creature off his leg.

The black dog released its bleeding thigh and bit Filch's left hand again, tearing it backward with force.

With his thigh injured, Filch lost his balance and stumbled, falling to the ground.

His fall has really ruined things.

Doesn't this just put the vulnerable neck right up to the black dog's mouth?

The beast, its eyes gleaming with ferocity, released its thin, bony hand, which had been bitten through a row of bloody holes, and began to gnaw at Filch's nape.

"No!" Harry, who had been sitting to the side in shock, finally came to his senses. He hadn't expected the friendly black dog to suddenly attack Filch. He rushed forward to stop it and grabbed its thick, black tail.

Harry's tug did indeed save Filch's life; sharp canine teeth grazed behind his ear, leaving a bloody gash that extended all the way to above his eyebrow.

Blood blurred Filch's vision, and he couldn't even see what he had bitten. The intense pain made him retreat backward, using both his hands and feet.

Even with Harry pulling its tail, the big black dog still barked wildly and lunged at Filch, pulling Harry forward a great distance.

The hot breath on Filch's face deepened his fear.

"Spare me!" Filch shouted as he covered his head with his injured left hand and scrambled toward the office door.

Although Harry appeared thin for the Quidditch team, he wasn't actually short; his boyish build had a certain weight to it. The big black dog, holding onto his tail, couldn't break free and could only drag Harry little by little toward the door.

Taking advantage of this slight delay, Filch raised his upper body, turned the doorknob, and escaped.

Filch staggered a few steps with his injured leg as he went out, then collapsed to the ground again.

The big black dog's bite on his leg had pierced the artery on the inside of his thigh, not to mention that its dagger-like canine teeth had also slashed the artery behind his ear.

Blood gushed from both wounds, and Filch managed to crawl forward a few steps before losing consciousness completely.

The big black dog, whose tail was being pulled, became even more anxious when its prey disappeared. It even turned around and licked Harry's face.

The wet, rough tongue licked Harry's face, giving him goosebumps, and he instinctively reached out to wipe it.

With this rub, the grip on the big black dog's tail loosened, and it darted forward, freeing its tail and rushing out of the office following the trail of blood left by Filch.

Harry knew something was wrong, so he quickly drew his wand and rushed into the corridor.

But there was no big black dog left in the corridor, only poor old Filch lying in a pool of blood. Harry took a few steps forward to check his injuries.

He had barely squatted down when Snape's furious voice came from the other end of the corridor: "What have you done, Potter?!"

"Oh no, I'm doomed." Harry sighed inwardly. If he had to pick up on who he least wanted to run into right now, it would be Snape.

"I just played a game of ball in the rain and left some mud in the hallway, how did so many things suddenly happen?"

Chapter 175 Memories

"That works really well! You must be Professor Snape's best student, right?" Head Nurse Madam Pomfrey looked with satisfaction at the steam coming out of the young wizard's ears, then turned to praise Ivy, "Slytherin, ten points, no! Twenty points! I'm sorry, child, that's the most I can give you."

Ivy, having concocted many stimulants using the magician's hand and the automatic cauldron, delivered them to the school hospital. At the time, Mrs. Pomfrey was worried about the hospital beds being full of cold patients.

She had run out of stimulants, but the young wizard lying in the hospital needed her care, so she was too busy to brew potions. Ivy's arrival with the stimulants was undoubtedly a godsend.

Ivy opened the Grimoire of Destruction and found that his experience points had increased by a mere pittance. Compared to the experience points he could gain from campus quests, his character level was already far too high.

He nodded to Mrs. Pomfrey and was about to take his leave when he heard a commotion in the corridor.

Mrs. Pomfrey put down what she was holding and stormed out. "Have some mercy! The patient needs a quiet place to rest—good heavens! What's wrong with him?"

The ward door opened again, and several professors filed in. Leading the way were Snape and Dumbledore, followed by Professor McGonagall, while Filch, covered in blood, floated in the air.

“They were attacked by Potter,” Professor Snape replied briefly.

“Severus!” Professor McGonagall exclaimed in displeasure. “We don’t know the truth yet; Mr. Potter is merely a suspect.”

Professor McGonagall's voice trailed off as she noticed many curious eyes peering through the gaps in the bed curtains.

Dumbledore directed Filch to float onto a bed and explained to Madam Pomfrey, "The wound has been healed with cinnamon extract, but he is still unconscious, likely due to blood loss. If he wakes up, please let me know immediately."

“Yes, Headmaster.” Mrs. Pomfrey nodded in agreement and then began to examine Filch’s condition.

“Mr. Doom? What are you doing standing here?” Professor McGonagall noticed Ivy standing by the door.

Ivy glanced at the injured man on the hospital bed and replied, "Professor Snape asked me to help brew some energy drinks, and I just brought them over."

Professor McGonagall looked at Snape, who nodded in agreement with Ivy's statement.

“Minerva, Severus, Mr. Potter is in your hands now.” Dumbledore had already left the bedside and turned to the group, saying, “Come with me, Ivy, I need to talk to you.”

€€€€€€€€

“How exactly did Filch get injured?” Ivy asked, sitting in Dumbledore’s office.

He looked up at the old and ugly phoenix Fox, who was perched on a branch. This big bird was about to be reborn, and its current appearance was one of the few ugly days in its long life.

Ivy thought this year would be peaceful, but unexpectedly, a bloody incident occurred on campus just one month into the semester. Usually, the first one to suffer should be the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but this year it's Filch, that old Squib, which is quite unusual.

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry said he was bitten by the 'Ominous.' But no one but himself has ever seen the 'Ominous' he speaks of."

Ivy frowned, pondering, "Could it really be Sirius Black who escaped from prison? But shouldn't Ron's pet rat Scabbers be the one to suffer then?"

The story of the dog catching the mouse was originally supposed to happen in the third year, but could it happen this year?

Ivy suddenly realized that Sirius Black wasn't incapable of escaping Azkaban; he simply lacked the motivation, not the ability. Being able to transform into his Animagus form, Sirius could evade the Dementors' senses, and could escape whenever he wanted.

If he suddenly realizes that his rotting in prison doesn't constitute atonement, and that Harry, who lacked companionship and family affection during his upbringing, is far more pitiful, then there might be a reason for him to leave Azkaban.

If Sirius Black really only came to Hogwarts to see his godson, then it's very likely he hasn't discovered Peter Pettigrew's existence yet.

Ivy frowned and thought for a while. Should she catch the rat now? Ivy was planning to use it to lure out Voldemort. If Sirius Black accidentally found it, the rat might not survive.

"Ivy!" Dumbledore called softly, "Have you thought of anything?"

Ivy snapped out of her reverie, shook her head, and replied, "No... I just don't quite understand what's going on. Did Harry summon the 'Ominous,' or did the 'Ominous' target the people around him?"

“I don’t understand either,” Dumbledore smiled. “But my experience tells me that sometimes you just have to wait, and the truth will come to light.”

"Alright, that's not why I called you here," Dumbledore changed the subject. "If Voldemort really made many Horcruxes, where would he keep them?"

Ivy certainly knew where all these Horcruxes were right now, but he still pretended to be all ears.

"Is it possible that his followers, the Death Eaters, possess one or two of them?" Dumbledore put his fingers together. "Professor Snape reminded me."

The gold cup and the diary, exactly two items.

But Ivy remained calm and asked in return, "Then this Death Eater must be deeply trusted by Voldemort. After all, this is tantamount to handing over a part of one's soul to someone else."

Dumbledore frowned, looking up at Fawkes's bare backside: "You're right, he has to trust this person completely..."

“I seriously doubt whether he has ever trusted anyone,” Ivy said slowly. “He’s been on the run for over a decade as a wandering ghost, but he’s never shown himself to any Death Eater. Instead, he chose the cowardly Quirrell.”

“Or perhaps… it’s because all the Death Eaters he trusts are imprisoned in Azkaban.” Dumbledore’s eyes lit up. “Perfect timing, I was planning to visit someone in Azkaban.”

Dumbledore didn't say who he was going to visit, and Ivy couldn't guess either, but it certainly wasn't some Death Eater who was still loyal to Voldemort.