A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

On the Eve of Chapter 724

Professor McGonagall arrived a while later. She was used to Felix's occasional antics, and they had already discussed the possibility of incorporating Felix's magic into the school, only failing to convince the Sorting Hat at the time. Therefore, she calmly reassured some of the frightened teachers and students before returning to the Headmaster's office.

Felix sat on the sofa, seemingly unchanged—except for the book of runes he was engrossed in reading.

Professor McGonagall looked at him scrutinizingly, then asked, "Did you gain a lot?"

“Yes,” Felix said with a smile, “it broadened my horizons and increased my knowledge considerably. Although I didn’t get to say a word to the four founders in the end, it felt like we really traveled together.” He paused, then said somewhat shyly, “Minerva, there’s something you’d better know…”

"You've taken a third of the school's magic?" Professor McGonagall shouted. Felix nodded obediently, indicating she hadn't misheard. After confirming several times, Professor McGonagall had to accept the reality. She calmly asked, "Will this affect the school?"

"A little, but it won't interfere with the school's daily magical operations. Cough, I think—the armor and statues in the castle will be dormant for a while. Sorry to ruin your Christmas plans..."

Professor McGonagall's sharp gaze swept over, but she stammered, "You know?"

"The name 'Stone Pier Dance Troupe' is good; it corresponds perfectly to the spell that controls them."

Professor McGonagall stared at him expressionlessly, her lips tightly pressed together. The constant bending and straightening of her knuckles indicated that she was far from calm, as if she might rush over and strangle him at any moment.

Felix glanced at it and quickly added:

"...It wasn't intentional. I just glanced at it when I put the Sorting Hat back. I'm sure anyone would take a second look at the comic book that stands out among the pile of documents on the table..." Then he said with a smile, "Minerva, this is the first time I've known you can draw. If I had to give you my opinion, I would say it's very lifelike."

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, deciding not to pursue the topic further. She paused for a moment, then asked, "Do you desperately need magic? Don't you have enough?" As she spoke, she suddenly glanced at Felix's book of runes. The thin pages swirled with a chilling violet and icy blue magic, and a tiny snake swam merrily around, its silvery, transparent body floating and sinking within the pages.

"If it's just about fighting a well-prepared battle, that'll be enough, but I want to do something else along the way," Felix said thoughtfully, his hand on his chin. "I'm not sure if it will work, after all, it's impossible to actually carry out a massacre."

"Do something else? Yes—"

"We've made so many grand promises, we have to deliver at least one of them. At the same time, it's about proving to the world that wizards always have a way out, and that what they value is far less important than we imagine."

"What do you mean?" Professor McGonagall asked in a low voice.

"land."

They were silent for almost a minute, then Phineas Black's portrait on the wall stroked his goatee and said, "I get it, you want to be a hero all by yourself."

"What are your thoughts?" Felix asked politely.

"No brilliant ideas, but plenty of rubbish," the portrait of Black said sarcastically. "Skip the process of proving you're a fool, and I'll just state the conclusion—" He suddenly grabbed the frame and shouted, "Boy, you can't do that! You're the most famous archmage since Salazar Slytherin!"

"Speaking of archmages, Tom Riddle—"

"Get him out!"

"And Merlin—"

"To hell with Merlin!" the portrait of Black said gruffly. "That's Gryffindor's job, but you're Slytherin. We're brave, but not stupid, understand? There's no need to go it alone; at least drag a bunch of people along, like those reckless Gryffindors and those silly Hufflepuffs..."

These words immediately drew protests from several other house principals. Felix was deeply worried; if he were to one day be hung on the wall, he would naturally be on Principal Black's side. Thinking of this terrifying scenario, he quickly said, "No one knows the four founders' true intentions better than me. I just spoke with the Sorting Hat, remember?"

The portraits of the principal stopped and stared at him intently.

"Is the sizing system useful? Yes, it is. It allows us to find companions more effectively and discover our inner noble qualities—and there is certainly more than one quality that can be called noble. Generally speaking, some people succeed and some do not. And when our seven-year study period comes to an end, we will be tempered by an environment far more complex than that of school."

"Don't forget, people change. Think about how many seven-year periods you have in your life—if you still have the chance to wear the Sorting Hat when you're a hundred, where will it sort you into? Of course, personally, it doesn't mean much anymore."

The portraits look at Dumbledore. If anyone has ever experienced the Sorting House process after the age of one hundred, Dumbledore is undoubtedly the most famous.

"It doesn't really matter," Dumbledore said in the canvas. "When you're young, you have endless possibilities, and you can aspire to be one of Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, or Godric Gryffindor. When you're old, you just become yourself."

A moment of silence fell over the round office. Professor McGonagall blew her nose. "Alright, alright, I'll give you time to debate. Albus, there are some things you should have told me while you were still alive..."

She composed herself and said seriously to Felix, "We need to be as prepared as possible and go all out. We don't have much time left, and I believe you need time to process this..." As she spoke, she strode to her desk and took out a photo album from the drawer.

Felix looked at her in surprise.

"Don't you need magic?" Professor McGonagall explained as she turned the pages, "What better place would be than other world-renowned magic schools? Thanks to this album, I know enough about other schools that have similar defenses to Hogwarts, like Beauxbatons..."

Professor McGonagall looked up at Felix, who was standing there dumbfounded, and asked, "What's wrong?" Felix joked, "Minerva, I really want to kiss you." Professor McGonagall blushed and glared at him.

……

In mid-December, Hogwarts School of Design experienced several snowfalls, and Black Lake froze over with a thick layer of ice. Some students trudged through the snow-covered grounds on their way to their Magical Creatures Protection class, where they could see Professor Hyp's hut on the lakeshore in the distance.

Students had many speculations about this, but none were confirmed, and the professors at the school remained tight-lipped. The most widely circulated story was that Professor Heip was working hard to develop a strategy for the exercise a week later—yes, it's hard to pinpoint exactly where this idea came from, but people refer to any visible conflict as an "exercise."

"It's really just a fig leaf," a boy said seriously. "My dad wrote to me saying that anyone with a brain should support Professor Hyp, support the International Wizarding Federation, oh, and the International Pan-Magic Alliance—"

"So you left a bouquet of flowers at the professor's door?" another student teased. "Not only did you get put in solitary confinement, but you also got a full head of bumps from a Niffler?"

The boy's face flushed red. "I left a greeting card! A greeting card!"

The students around him laughed and giggled, but they all looked at the little house by the Black Lake with awe. However, this awe did not last long. A chubby, furry black sniffler rushed towards the students, waving a small, glowing stick in its little hand and making cooing noises.

"Run!" a student shouted, and then took off running, with the rest of the students quickly following. But some stayed behind, mostly girls, their faces showing eager expressions.

Valen blinked her bright black eyes, brimming with excitement. This past week, the Dark Lord had been busy with important matters, barely having time to play cards. Only Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Luna would come over, but even Valen didn't know if she was lost. In short, life had been incredibly boring, but thankfully, she had found a new pastime.

Wearing an exquisite cloak, Valen stood on a boulder by the lake and made a powerful gesture. Instantly, the snow tumbled, and one after another, glistening white snowmen sniffed out, charging forward behind Valen. The students who had remained in place were already on high alert, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Soon, the two sides clashed, snowballs flying everywhere, laughter and shouts filling the air.

A dozen minutes later, the burly Hagrid stood in front of the house and yelled at them.

The battle was forced to a halt, and both sides, displaying an air of victory, agreed to fight again another day. Valen strode confidently toward the Black Lake, when suddenly he found himself being lifted up by someone.

Varen turned around and opened his mouth to Hermione, who was crept closer. Hermione smiled.

"Let's go to class together. Professor Slughorn misses you."

"Maybe he found a Niffler with more snacks than him," Ron muttered quietly. Harry grinned. "But we have to admit, Professor Slughorn always finds a good excuse—what was it this time?" He turned to Hermione and asked.

"Oh, I heard he found two hibernating dormouses in the flowerpot," Hermione replied with a grin.

"What, does Varen want to recruit them?" Harry asked in surprise, as Varen bared his teeth and claws at him.

They walked towards the castle, occasionally pausing on the stone steps to gaze at the snow-covered cottages by the Black Lake, falling silent in unison. At the castle gate, Harry suddenly said, "I'm prepared to follow Mr. Dorje's advice."

"What?" Ron then asked.

"Graduation trip".

"Oh, you mean that?" Ron said slowly. "I'm not sure... a few months should be fine, but... Hermione, what about you?"

Hermione shook her head.

"I'll probably go straight to the Ministry of Magic, right after graduation. Ms. Burns said they're short-staffed—people who know both sides well. My plan is to stay at the Ministry of Magic for a few years, then find an opportunity to transfer out and see the world. The Charter of the Federation and Alliance mentions many departments that are still in the planning stages, and I think the position of observer in the Pan-Magical Alliance would be perfect for me..."

Ron stroked his chin.

"So one of you went abroad first and then returned, while the other is always ready to go abroad."

"That's a very accurate summary," Harry said.

No one mentioned the possibility of an accident, as if they were full of confidence in the future. They entered the castle, glancing inside the Great Hall as they passed by. The fires for warmth burned brightly, and twelve Christmas trees stood straight and tall. Harry glanced at the empty table; soon it would be filled with a plump roast turkey, mountains of roast meat and boiled potatoes, delicious sausages, buttered peas, thick gravy, and cranberry sauce…

And of course, there were Christmas firecrackers. Harry recalled the scene from the last Christmas dinner:

He and Ron drew sailor hats, which were far less impressive than the tiger-skin hats and parrot hats they had drawn themselves. Then he thought of two people who were destined not to attend Christmas this year: Dumbledore, wearing a reindeer antler hat and smiling as he urged people to eat more, and Grindelwald, who drew a red Santa hat, when he was still disguised as Professor Bagshot...

……

Felix lay on his simple bed, half-asleep, gazing at the richly colored book of magical runes, cradled by a soft glow of violet and ice-blue light. A small snake slithered among the pages—

That was his guardian angel, his new guardian angel.

(End of this chapter)