Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world.

Chapter 234 Horcruxes Fall into Snape's Hands

Seamus was completely bewildered by the three of them. He shook his head and walked quickly toward the carriage. Harry turned around, about to ask Ron why he had stopped him, but was startled by Ron's expression the next moment.

It was deathly pale, as if all the blood had been drained from his face, to the point that even the freckles on Ron's face faded.

"That's a Thestral, Harry—" The short words were barely audible, as if squeezed out of Ron's throat.

"Thestrals? What are those?"

"A magical creature considered an ominous sign by the wizarding world!" Hermione replied, her face also looking grim, and she seemed a bit irritated.

Seeing Harry's still bewildered look, she rolled her eyes: "I told you, you need to brush up on your magical knowledge, especially magical creatures—only those who have witnessed death can see Thestrals, so Seamus Finnigan can't see them, you should be grateful for him!"

die----

Harry was stunned for a moment, then finally realized what was happening, and his face turned green.

"—Mr. Weasley, we have unanimously decided to hold new prefectural elections this term. The current prefects are no longer able to satisfy Slytherin's pursuit of power, so we would like to ask you, the most powerful pure-blood Slytherin, what specific requirements do you have for the prefectural head?"

An upperclassman with slicked-back hair asked Vaughn respectfully.

As soon as he finished speaking, another little snake, probably in sixth grade, immediately chimed in: "Please forgive us for not being able to nominate you for the election. As you know, the school rules state that students in the 7th grade and below are not allowed to run for class monitor. To be honest, this rule is terrible, but we cannot go against the school's will for the time being. Please understand."

After he finished speaking, he and the other little snakes looked at Vaughn nervously.

Slytherin worships power, and these little snakes in their respective homes probably wish Vaughn Weasley, that redhead, would just die already.

The WAC and werewolf games created by the other side have greatly disgusted the purebloods, who are among the most conservative of the conservatives.

But precisely because of this, the little snakes have become even more respectful of Vaughn. There are a few students who can make the old wizards in the family, who have been famous for many years, hate them to the core but are helpless.

Of course, this is also related to the fact that the family did not restrict their association with Vaughn Weasley.

Purebloods are the most sensitive group to power and status. They can easily sense their family's fear and, moreover, their subtle tendency to gamble, from their family's attitude.

In short, since the family doesn't object or restrict him, they are naturally willing to befriend Vaughn Weasley.

Looking at the little snakes surrounding him, Vaughn's expression softened.

Even though he wasn't interested in their questions at all, it didn't stop him from appreciating their attitude of seeking instructions. So he patiently said, "Don't worry, I'm not particularly interested in the prefect. Of course, personally, I hope the new prefect will be more patient and willing to listen to our ideas and represent our wishes. What do you think?"

"Of course, of course!"

"Yes, a prefect should serve their classmates!"

Several older snakes repeatedly assured them.

Last year, they witnessed firsthand how that "bad-tempered" and "unhumble" prefect was knocked unconscious!

After chatting with a few older snakes, Vaughn walked toward Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

He wasn't surprised that the Strykers had come today; after all, more than two months ago, quite a few of the Slytherin 7s had come.

Graduates flocked to him.

At that time, he didn't have enough power at all!

Perhaps it was because of Dumbledore's decades-long suppression and Voldemort's rampage.

Compared to America, England's pure-blood families are far more "weak" than one might imagine.

They have their own stance, their own ideas and principles, but at the same time, they do not completely fix their own or their family's interests to a certain limit. Instead, they are well aware of the principle of risk diversification.

For example, the Travers family.

In England, or throughout Europe, it is perfectly normal for purebloods to bet on multiple bloodlines through their lineage. On the contrary, it is the minority who, like the 12 purebloods of America, are so obsessed with protecting their interests that they are willing to suffer heavy losses.

Of course, Vaughn also knew that the approach of those Slytherin snakes didn't mean anything.

It's at most their personal will. After all, those families aren't as "soft" as Travers. For the past few decades, they've been putting up with the pressure exerted by Dumbledore!

Therefore, Vaughn didn't take it too seriously, and simply expressed his willingness to accept it.

Upon reaching the tree-lined avenue, Vaughn noticed that Hermione and her two companions had not boarded the carriage but were instead looking uncomfortably at the Thestrals pulling it.

Vaughn seemed to realize something.

Normally, very few young wizards can see Thestrals, but earlier in the summer, Harry and his friends witnessed Quirinus Chino being sucked to death by Voldemort, who was parasitizing him, in the Painted World, which can be considered as witnessing death in a roundabout way.

Given Hermione's extensive knowledge and Ron's interest in all sorts of magical creatures, they must know what the Thestrals are like.

Quirrell's death was certainly his own fault, but ultimately, he was just a pathetic wretch.

It's perfectly normal for three 12- or 13-year-old children, who had finally managed to seal away that memory, to feel uneasy now that Thestrals have resurfaced.

He didn't offer any advice, but instead stepped forward and gently stroked the withered, skeleton-like Thestral in front of the vehicle.

"fertile----"

Harry instinctively tried to stop him.

But the next second, he was stunned to see the "monster" snort and nuzzle affectionately against Vaughn.

Vaughn pulled out a small dried fish from the carriage. Guoguocha, who had come with the luggage, immediately stared wide-eyed at Thestral with a look that seemed to want to kill him. However, this magical creature, which was friendly, gentle yet brave, ignored its warning and happily rolled the dried fish into its mouth.

"Don't worry, they're very friendly. They accompanied me many times when I went into the Forbidden Forest last year." Vaughn smiled and stroked the Thestral's fur.

He then invited the three of them to get into the carriage.

These Thestrals, trained by Hagrid, can automatically identify whether their riders are Hogwarts students and where their destination is.

After Hermione, Harry, and Ron got into the car, it started walking and obediently made its way along the road toward the castle.

Hermione keenly sensed the information that Vaughn had unintentionally revealed in his earlier remarks.

Last year, Vaughn was able to see Thestrals, which means—

In contrast, the two boys were much more careless. Ron muttered words like "ominous" and "misfortune," awkwardly expressing his disdain.

Harry, however, was very curious: "Vaughn, aren't you scared at all? Seeing these kinds of creatures requires such terrible conditions, and they look so...strange!"

"Don't judge a book by its cover, Harry."

Vaughn picked up Fruit Tea and stroked its belly fur, which made the adorable creature, who had been fussing because he had fed it dried fish from the Thestrals, start purring.

He said, seemingly unintentionally, yet with a profound meaning, "Some things that seem vicious may be far more friendly than you imagine, while some things that seem harmless may bring you extremely bad misfortune. Therefore, when you encounter anything, don't easily judge whether it is good or bad."

Upon hearing this, Harry's expression became somewhat unnatural.

Perhaps feeling guilty, he sensed that Vaughn was implying something—

The carriage wasn't fast, but even at its slowest, it was still much faster than the "pilgrimage route" taken by the first-year students.

After arriving at Hogwarts by carriage, the four parted ways temporarily, each returning to their dormitories to shower and change clothes. When they arrived at the Great Hall, the first-year students had not yet arrived!

Today, as usual, Vaughn did not go to his Slytherin seat, but instead visited his loyal Gryffindor long table!

Hermione thoughtfully prepared a seat for her boyfriend—right next to her, and just beyond that were the twins.

Vaughn didn't sit down, but glanced at the professors' table and said, "Wait a moment, I'm going to say hello to an old friend."

""

old friend?

Hermione looked over curiously and then noticed that there was a beautiful and young witch in the professors' seats this year.

She was petite and slender; if you didn't see her clothes, she would look like a student who hadn't graduated yet.

Her beautiful blonde hair was styled into a smooth, elegant updo, and a black veil partially covered her face, obscuring her delicate features and lake-blue eyes, creating a hazy, alluring beauty.

Hermione watched as Vaughn walked over, hugged the woman, and kissed her on the cheek, and she couldn't help but gasp!

The twins' annoying chatter filled my ears: "So pretty, George, I bet Mom is really happy with her."

"Yes, Fred, but don't you have a bad memory? She visited our house a long time ago, and Mom was beaming with joy that day!"

"Really?" Fred exclaimed, "What's her name?"

"Isabella Rozier," George winked. "Vaughn insisted on going to North America during the summer to save her."

The two of them, laughing and joking, said together next to Hermione, "What an enviable love!"

Hermione, on the other hand, looked at them as if she wanted to devour them!

On the other side of the professor's table, Isabella winked at Vaughn: "Was that Hermione Granger just now, the famous Vaughn Weasley's girlfriend?"

Vaughn wasn't fooled and simply said, "Hermione is a very serious person; even if you're joking, she'll take it seriously."

Isabella is a free spirit, and even after experiencing months of hardship in America, she hasn't changed her nature. She definitely didn't have any good intentions in asking that question.

However, one of her good qualities is that she never makes jokes inappropriately, regardless of the occasion or her personality.

Sure enough, upon hearing Vaughn say that Hermione was serious, she muttered "How boring," then stopped joking and seriously discussed the matter with Vaughn: "I've always heard that the mysterious man has cursed the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, but after applying, I didn't seem to find anything unusual. Are you sure it's not just a legend?"

Vaughn countered, "In decades, no professor in your position has ever lasted more than a year. Do you see that as an accident, or a curse?"

Isabella's lips twitched a few times, and she said dejectedly, "—Never mind, a curse is more reasonable!"

As a member of the Rosier family, Isabella knew that fate existed, and where fate exists, "coincidence" is probably more terrifying than a curse!

In any case, curses are real things. Even if they can't be discovered immediately, it's only because of a lack of understanding. They are much easier to deal with than a vague and elusive "god".

Based on current data, at least most wizards are able to leave their teaching positions unscathed after a year, without any lasting consequences.

Shaking her head, Isabella stopped dwelling on the matter and put her arm around Vaughn: "I heard that it's very difficult for Hogwarts to find a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, so I volunteered to apply. You'll have to help me out this year!"

Vaughn scoffed.

He doesn't believe it.

He figured the other person probably came just for fun; this guy never knew what fear was and was full of rebellious tendencies.

However, her initiative in applying for the job did indeed solve Hogwarts' and his predicament.

Hogwarts' dilemma is that if they cannot find a professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, the course may have to be canceled, which would affect students in all seven years.

For Vaughn, Isabella's appearance gives him the opportunity to intervene in teaching—a point on which Vaughn has already reached an agreement with Dumbledore.

Thinking about it, he smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll help you."

"Teaching assistant?"

"It's not certain yet. Neither Dumbledore nor I know whether the teaching assistant is within the range of the mysterious man's curse. I'll discuss it with him again after the dinner."

"Alright!" Isabella shrugged, then glanced at the Gryffindor table and asked curiously, "Where is the savior?"

I've heard his name in the newspapers, but I've never met him!

Ok?

Vaughn then realized that Harry wasn't at the Gryffindor long table, but he quickly sensed Harry's location through his Persona.

Harry and Ron were together, and it seemed like someone was stopping them.

Vaughn glanced back at the professors' table and saw Snape's empty chair; his cheek twitched.

It seems the dear Potions Professor couldn't resist showering Harry with affection once again.

Before arriving at the Great Hall, Harry was looking forward to tonight's dinner.

It wasn't just the joy of returning to Hogwarts, but also the fact that he had only eaten a quick breakfast at the Burrow and some snacks on the train, which had long since been digested, leaving him starving.

So he quickly took a shower and changed his clothes back in his dorm, and then he and Ron hurried along the corridor to the auditorium.

Of course, he didn't forget to bring his beloved schoolbag.

Ron was very confused: "Harry, what's in that backpack? You've been carrying it around all this time?"

Harry tightened his grip on his backpack. "Uh, it's nothing, just some souvenirs I'm afraid I'll lose them."

"How could anything possibly go missing at Hogwarts? Are you Neville?" Ron scoffed. "Besides, today is the welcome dinner. What kind of nonsense is it to bring a backpack? I bet there's a rule in the school rules that explicitly forbids bringing books to the dinner, because it's considered impolite!"

-

How could there be such a rule!

Harry disagreed.

Then he was arrested—

By then, he and Ron had arrived near the auditorium. The corridors encircled the auditorium, and the golden lights shone through the windows, casting warm glows that made one feel as if they could smell the aroma of food inside.

Fearing the dinner might have already started, he and Ron tiptoed and peeked inside. Then, they saw Vaughn walk to the professors' table and hug and kiss a strange woman.

Merlin—

'

Ron exclaimed in surprise, a mixture of emotions in his voice, "The new professor is her?"

"Who?"

"Isabella Rozier—you don't know her, you can assume she's—" Ron thought for a moment, then used a word he'd learned from Vaughn: "She's a Vaughn fanatic!"

As he spoke, he gave Harry a briefing on Isabella's remarkable feat from a few years ago, when she argued with someone in the newspaper in support of Vaughn's magic extraction method.

Harry was confused but impressed.

But what caught his attention even more was that someone was missing from the professor's seat. He nudged Ron: "Look, Snape's not here!"

Ron quickly looked around, and after confirming, exclaimed excitedly, "Is he sick?"

"Isn't it inappropriate to say that?" Harry said hesitantly, his face flushed with excitement.

"Stop pretending! You probably wish he wouldn't show up for the entire semester!"

Harry, caught red-handed by Ron, couldn't help but chuckle: "I think he'd better never show up again. Maybe he failed to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship this year and resigned in anger?"

No sooner had they spoken than they heard a slick, deliberately drawn-out voice behind them: "Perhaps Professor Snape is standing behind two foolish idiots who only know how to talk behind people's backs, waiting for them to make a mistake?"

The two were struck dumb!

Each word is like a way of speaking stuck together; they are so familiar.

Sure enough, when the two turned around stiffly, they saw Snape, dressed in a black robe, standing in the shadows outside the light, like a giant bat.

He had a stern face, and his dark eyes stared at them with malice.

"Follow me!"

He said.

Harry had no desire to go with them, but mustered his courage: "Professor, the dinner is about to begin!"

Ron was so frightened that he was sweating profusely. He stared in terror at Snape's cold face, a slow smile creeping onto his face.

The laughter sent a chill down one's spine.

"Oh, my esteemed savior, Mr. Harry Potter, are you going to defy the professor's orders, and then I'll drag you into the Great Hall and have you read aloud to the entire school how you and Mr. Ronald Weasley privately slandered and cursed the professor?"

He might as well just die!

Harry gave in.

The two followed Snape listlessly out of the corridor. In the distance, he saw Professor McGonagall leading a flock of quails into the gate.

The aroma of food wafted from the auditorium, but they drifted further and further away from the warm firelight and the delicious food.

Snape led them down a narrow stone staircase to the underground, casually pushed open the door of a classroom, and shoved the two inside.

The classroom was dimly lit by only a few lights, making everything feel eerie.

Harry expected to be insulted, ridiculed, and mocked, and he was mentally prepared to pretend he didn't hear it.

But once inside the classroom, none of that happened. He only saw Snape standing in front of him, backlit, pointing at the backpack he was holding: "Open it and take the contents out!"

Harry's heart skipped a beat.

He hugged his schoolbag tightly, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the straps.

How can I open it?

There was a notebook hidden in the backpack!

He resisted and wanted to refuse, but there seemed to be no excuse. Hogwarts rules didn't offer as much privacy protection as Muggles' rules, and when a professor wanted to check a student's belongings, the student had no reasonable reason not to cooperate.

Ron, standing nearby, was terrified and frantically tried to signal Harry not to disobey, lest he give the old bat an excuse.

Unfortunately, the light was dim, and Harry didn't see it. Even if he had, he wouldn't have compromised; instead, he would have racked his brains trying to figure out how to avoid it.

However, Snape had no patience to play tricks on him.

"PetrificusTotalus!"

A flash of red light, and Harry and Ron felt their bodies stiffen, their muscles turning to stone and becoming uncontrollable. They instinctively tightened their limbs and stood at attention.

Standing still, he resembled a sculpture.

Petrification Spell!

Harry opened his only remaining eye wide and glared at Snape, but could only watch as that wretched old bat slowly beckoned with his finger.

The schoolbag that had fallen to the ground flew over.

In the dim light, the two could not see Snape's expression, but they could see him roughly open Harry's schoolbag and dump everything out.

A few books, an eyeglasses case, a pen, and a notebook.

It fell to the ground with a clatter.

Then Snape stopped moving.

He seemed to be looking at something on the ground, or perhaps at Harry. Ron noticed that his silhouette, backlit by the light, was trembling slightly.

I don't know if it was my imagination or if the airflow disturbed my robe.

But the room was actually deathly silent.

After a while, Snape finally made a move again. He reached out and the notebook on the ground fell into his hand.

Ron noticed that Harry's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets.

"Ha—a diary!" Snape let out his signature mocking laugh. "Is the famous savior, Harry Potter, about to record all the great deeds he's about to accomplish in his second year?"

This guy's mouth is so annoying!

Ron thought resentfully.

But perhaps it was just his imagination, he felt that Harry's tense gaze suddenly relaxed a little.

Unfortunately, Harry is unable to speak now.

He could only watch helplessly as Snape opened his notebook and continued his mocking remarks: "Hmm, unsurprisingly, a blank page. After all, the great Harry Potter has just enrolled. Let me think—"

He suddenly beckoned the pen from the ground, his eyes fixed on Harry with malice: "How about I write down what you and Ronald Weasley said about the professor? It'll be a perfect opening, fitting your vile, thick-headed, despicable morals!"

Harry's heart skipped a beat again.

Of course, it's not because of the so-called "slanderous words against the professor." Now he even thinks his previous words weren't malicious enough!

He was afraid that if the other person actually wrote in the notebook, it would expose its strangeness!

He watched nervously as the pen tip slowly descended, his heart pounding like a drum. Then, the pen tip, about to touch the paper, suddenly stopped.

>