From Hogwarts to Sturhaven

Harry could guess what Hermione hadn't said.

Or Professor Lockhart is lying.

However, Hermione preferred to believe she was wrong rather than believe that Professor Lockhart would lie.

Professor Lockhart has exempted Harry from half a semester's worth of homework, so Harry is reluctant to speak ill of him. If Lockhart could stop making Harry play the clown in class all the time, Harry might like him a little more.

"In short, the monster in the Chamber of Secrets is indeed extremely dangerous, as you can tell from Professor Lockhart's injuries," Hermione sighed, as if she was already impressed by Lockhart's heroic figure. "If a master of Defense Against the Dark Arts like him is in such a sorry state, I really don't know what the truth about the monster in the Chamber of Secrets is."

“I think a basilisk controlled by a wizard who speaks Parsleyan would be great; Professor Lockhart would definitely give you a high score,” Ron said, sharing his thoughts.

“Don’t be silly!” Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “We all know the monster in the Chamber of Secrets can’t be a basilisk. There must be some clues I haven’t found yet. I won’t give him this incorrect paper.”

"Suit yourself." Ron and Harry packed their things and stood up from the table.

€€€€€€€€

"I just don't understand! Why does he have to pull these attention-grabbing stunts!" Harry had just finished a role-playing game and sat in his seat, feeling indignant. The little bit of goodwill he had developed towards Lockhart because he didn't have to do homework had almost completely vanished.

Fortunately, the school bell rang soon, allowing Harry to quickly end this torturous day.

“Harry, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger, please wait a moment!” Lockhart called out from the podium to the three who were about to leave the classroom.

After everyone else had left, Lockhart sat down at the table and spoke: "I've read your papers, and they're absolutely brilliant! Hydra? What a bold and beautiful hypothesis. But I still have to say, although you're very close to the truth, you're still a little short. Just like I promised before, none of you need to hand in your Defense Against the Dark Arts assignment!"

"Whoosh!" Harry and Ron cheered, their impression of Lockhart improving considerably.

“However, I noticed that Miss Granger doesn’t seem to have submitted her paper?” Lockhart asked with a smile.

Hermione bit her lip: "I haven't finished yet..."

“Hermione has already written at least five feet long!” Ron’s expression was exaggerated, as if he had witnessed something that would never happen to him. “But she’s still not satisfied!”

“She practically lived in the library,” Harry chimed in to confirm.

Lockhart was also taken aback: "I think that's enough, Miss Granger. I can't wait to see your masterpiece."

“No!” Hermione screamed, then immediately realized her lapse in composure. “I’m sorry, Professor Lockhart… but… please give me a few more days, okay? Before Christmas… no, after Christmas I’ll give it to you…”

After saying this, Hermione grabbed her bag and hurriedly left the classroom.

“Please forgive me…” Harry felt he had to defend his friend, “Hermione is always very serious about her homework. If you’re talking about who could find the Chamber of Secrets on their own, I believe it can only be her…”

“Yes!” Ron quickly chimed in, “We know her!”

“If you don’t mind, we’re going to Transfiguration class!” Harry said, and quickly pulled Ron away from the classroom.

In the hallway, the two were still discussing Hermione's outburst.

"Why is she just as anxious as she was when exams were approaching last semester?" Ron asked, puzzled.

“It’s not quite the same. At least she wasn’t trying to cram textbooks into our heads.” Harry shrugged.

€€€€€€€€

“Dark magic is not the goal, but merely a means.” Ivy was explaining her insights on dark magic to her sorcerer. “Dark magic is more effective in certain ways than ordinary spells, especially when you wish to torment your enemy. However, remember, dark magic is just a means to achieve your goal, not the goal itself.”

Ivy repeated her words.

“Prolonged immersion in dark magic can indeed alter a wizard’s mind to some extent, but a true master of dark magic can wield this dangerous power, rather than becoming its slave.” Ivy stared into Cassandra’s bright emerald eyes. “I have high expectations for you. Don’t fall into the abyss of dark magic.”

“I understand,” Cassandra nodded.

“You may have noticed that the students living in this castle sometimes use spells to play pranks. People call these mischievous spells ‘Jinx,’ the mildest of all dark magic spells. But even so, they are still dark magic, possessing all the characteristics of other dark spells,” Ivy continued. “You can start with these Jinx, dissect their principles, and figure out how dark magic works. This will help you understand the nature of dark magic and prevent you from being overly obsessed or afraid of it. You need to understand not only how these Jinx are cast, but also why they work.”

“And I can tell you that the lines between black magic are actually incredibly blurred. Strictly speaking, there’s no fundamental difference between poison curses, evil spells, and curses. For example, I can use a prank curse like the Leg-Locking Curse to permanently bind a person’s legs together, so they can’t be separated until death. I still maintain that black magic and white magic are just ordinary powers; be the master of those powers, not their slaves.” Ivy paused, looking towards the corner of the clock tower.

The clock tower is located at the back gate of the castle, and not many people usually come here. That's why Ivy chose to teach her sorcerer some magic here.

“Come out. I see you,” Ivy said loudly.

"I...I didn't mean to eavesdrop..." A disheveled witch emerged from around the corner; it was Hermione.

After leaving the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Hermione, like a young animal trapped in a snare, wandered around the library for a long time with her thesis in hand, unable to find a way out.

Later, she decided to seek help, and Ivy was the first person she thought of.

After finally finding them in the clock tower, Hermione overheard them discussing dark magic, so she had to hide. Now that Ivy had exposed her, she hesitantly stepped forward: "I want to ask you something, Ivy... it's about the Chamber of Secrets..."

"Come here, Hermione." Ivy could tell the little witch wasn't feeling well. She was like this at the end of last semester, probably similar to exam anxiety in college students?

But it's another story about a locked room...

First Harry, then Hermione; it probably won't be long before they discover the secret room entrance in the third-floor bathroom.

Chapter 184 Ivy's Strategy

“A very well-written paper, Hermione.” Ivy sighed, rolling up Hermione’s paper on the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin and the monsters within.

"You have accomplished what the headmasters and many powerful wizards could not: finding the secret chamber hidden in the castle." It seems the best way to unleash Hermione's potential is to give her homework, just as Gauss solved the problem of "constructing a regular heptadecagon with a compass and straightedge" that had puzzled mathematicians for 2000 years in one night, which he also considered just a homework assignment.

“But Professor Lockhart…” Hermione bit her lip, “he clearly already dealt with the monster in the Chamber of Secrets…”

“People can lie, Hermione. But the truth doesn’t.” Ivy was a little troubled. He didn’t want to expose the Chamber of Secrets so soon. Although it was a good thing to clear Hagrid’s name, there was nowhere to put the basilisk inside. Letting it sleep in the Chamber of Secrets was the best solution.

Now that Hermione has handed him the paper, he can no longer pretend to be deaf and dumb. He must deal with the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk before Dumbledore discovers everything through the portraits scattered throughout the castle.

Ivy chose to teach Cassandra in the clock tower for this reason, as it has the fewest portraits in the castle.

“I don’t believe it…” Hermione shook her head, tears welling in her eyes, her already messy hair seeming to droop listlessly. “Professor Lockhart is so amazing…”

The greatest distance in the world is longing; it can make people blind. The adventurer Lockhart in Hermione's mind is not the real Lockhart, but an image born from novels and the fantasies of little girls, which Hermione then imposed on the liar Lockhart.

Hermione had actually noticed Lockhart's odd behavior a long time ago, but her brain convinced her to selectively ignore the evidence.

Now, even more glaring facts have emerged: Hermione has discovered that Lockhart's words and actions are completely untenable, caught between her own factual speculation and her idol's pronouncements.

“I suggest you calm down and think this through, Hermione,” Ivy comforted her. He needed to keep the little witch calm, at least until he had sorted out everything in the Chamber of Secrets. “When does Lockhart need this paper?”

“I told him I would give it to him after the Christmas holidays…” Hermione murmured.

“There’s still plenty of time,” Ivy breathed a sigh of relief. Plenty of time meant he didn’t have to risk using other methods, such as erasing the little witch’s memories. “You should get some fresh air and have a good snowball fight with your friends. Often, your worries will wash away with your sweat.”

“But…” Hermione wanted to argue. She was a bit of a bookworm, as if not reading every single minute at Hogwarts was a sacrilege. Besides, even her pastimes were reading, whereas Ivy would at least feed magical creatures and go to the Forbidden Forest to eat some gourds to relieve stress.

“No buts. Rest is for better progress. The path of magic is long, and those who never stop will eventually die along the way. You should learn to allocate your time wisely.” Ivy rolled the parchment into a tube and tapped Hermione’s fluffy head. “I will give this paper to Lockhart for you after Christmas. In the meantime, don’t think about the Chamber of Secrets anymore.”

Hermione stared at Ivy's face for a long time before looking away and saying in a weak voice, "Okay... I understand."

Watching Hermione turn away dejectedly, Ivy said softly, "Cassandra, that's enough for today's lesson. I have other things to do."

“What an innocent, naive girl…” Cassandra murmured. “She must have a happy family.”

“If I remember correctly, you’re the same age.” Ivy glanced at Cassandra and chuckled softly.

€€€€€€€€

Dumbledore's office was still the same as always. The old headmasters hanging on the wall were still snoring, and the silverware that was constantly emitting steam was always on the go. Ivy always suspected that it was a magical humidifier, but did the awful weather in England really need humidification?

Fox on the branch has completely turned into a bald chicken, and it looks like it's only a few seconds away from dying.

As Ivy passed by it, she heard a sound that seemed to be hissing as if it were being strangled.

"Welcome, Ivy." The white-bearded old wizard sat in his chair, seemingly quite surprised by Ivy's sudden visit.

Before Ivy could even say hello, Fox, the bald chicken perched on the branch, burst into flames.

With a cry that sounded like it was about to breathe its last, the phoenix turned into a ball of flame, then burst into a bright light, before turning into a handful of ashes and falling to the ground.

"Has it been half a year since it started shedding its feathers?" Ivy carefully examined the fledgling that had just emerged from the ashes. It was wrinkled and ugly, just like the old bird.

“Yes. It’s been about six months since it started shedding during your summer vacation.” Dumbledore waved his large, bony hand, helped the fledgling Fawkes build a nest, and then settled it in.

"Does each rebirth of the phoenix take this long?" Ivy pulled up a chair for herself, sat down, and asked.

"Not necessarily. This time it's dragged on for too long, and doesn't seem as determined as usual." Dumbledore placed a plate of candy on the table—Muggle candy that wouldn't move. "Try it, Keith's new product. He's living a very sweet life these days!"

Keith was a Muggle candy store owner whom Dumbledore had met last year. Ivy had met him once before, but she never expected that they would have business dealings.

Ivy picked out a candy that looked like an orange segment and popped it into her mouth, then explained her purpose: "I've found the secret room."

Dumbledore stopped eating the candy he was about to put in his mouth, his eyes flashing with surprise: "Are you sure, Ivy? This is very important."

“Take a look at this,” Ivy said, placing Hermione’s paper on the table. “It’s about the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin and the monster inside.”

Dumbledore silently unfolded the parchment and examined it carefully.

“Hmm…that makes sense now.” Dumbledore relaxed, as if a mystery that had troubled him for a long time had finally been solved. “So the bathroom where Myrtle died was the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets…she died because she made eye contact with the Basilisk…”

“It’s quite remarkable that Miss Granger discovered this,” Dumbledore laughed. “Why did she write this paper in the first place?”

“I guess Lockhart hired three students to work for him for free to prepare for his new book,” Ivy replied.

"Ha ha..." Dumbledore's white beard trembled. "I never expected him to actually contribute to finding the Chamber of Secrets. Originally, I just wanted him to be a bad example for the students, to show them what they shouldn't be like. Fate is truly fascinating, isn't it?"

"You never had any good intentions in inviting a fraud to be a professor at Hogwarts," Ivy sarcastically remarked. "You'll just muddle through this year, send Lockhart to Azkaban, and then find the next unfortunate soul?"

“You’ve misunderstood me, Ivy,” Dumbledore said with a sly smile. “I do intend to expose his tricks, but I’ll only hand him over to the Ministry of Magic. After all, his actions would be considered an abuse of magic!”

“However, if Professor Victor is willing to return to his loyal Hogwarts, I might indeed consider dismissing him immediately.” Dumbledore put his fingers together, extending an invitation to Ivy.

"Save my breath, I have no interest in teaching a bunch of energetic brats." Ivy rolled her eyes. "The truth about Myrtle's death will not only clear Hagrid's name, but also lead to another matter."

Dumbledore leaned forward slightly, adopting a listening posture.

“Voldemort used Myrtle’s death to split off a piece of her soul and create his first Horcrux, a diary.” Ivy placed the book of monsters on the table.