A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

Chapter 726 Floating

At the port, Felix pulled a silver pocket watch from his coat pocket, popped open the cover, and glanced at the time.

"Horace, get your men to arrange the evacuation as soon as possible. To be honest, I'm not sure if a huge thing will appear above our heads in a minute. It's hard to figure out what those people are thinking... Seriously, I don't like politics." He paused. "If there's real danger, I can probably give a warning a minute in advance."

Horace Greenstinch nodded knowingly; a minute was enough to get a lot done.

A briefcase appeared out of thin air, and Felix handed it to Greenstinch. The latter looked surprised and tentatively asked, "I heard... Mr. Scamander had a very large briefcase when he was young?"

"Ah, the principle is the same. I consulted Mr. Scamander."

Horace Greenstinch's face immediately showed a look of recollection—ever since Serafina Picqueli, every president of the Magical Congress of the United States had been told at the beginning of his term to be wary of magizoologists traveling around with their suitcases.

With mixed feelings, he walked out of the harbor and fired a safety signal with his wand. The Aurors and staff of the Magical Congress of the United States arrived first, their faces still showing disbelief, as if they hadn't fully woken up. They looked around in astonishment as a young Auror stretched out his hand, his fingers passing through the varying shades of black and white lines without any obstruction. Where there had been an old-fashioned red fire hydrant, with a rat perched on it, was now standing.

"I've only ever seen similar scenes in comic books," the Auror said absentmindedly.

Another wizard, dressed in harem pants, cautiously glanced in Felix's direction and whispered with a look of awe, "What do you think the world looks like through Mr. Hyp's eyes?"

A brief silence.

"Maybe it's a book?" the young Auror chattered on. "And a comic book at that. Ugh—it's terrifying, I can't imagine how he did it."

"Mr. Hyp should be able to beat Grindelwald, right?"

"I think it's feasible! At least Grindelwald couldn't do something like that," the young Auror said excitedly, his eyes looking around with fervent admiration.

"But both of them are recognized as great mages," the other said hesitantly.

"There will always be a difference between strong and weak..."

At that moment, Horace Greenstinch strode over carrying a box. He glanced at the speaker and said, "Archmage aren't ranked by strength. They are at least outstanding figures who far surpass their contemporaries in some aspect. Alright, let's get to work."

Wizards began to descend from the sky. These people brought their families and carried large and small bags of luggage. Horace Greenstinch's mood grew as heavy as that of the Aurors present, but he couldn't utter any words to persuade them to stay—most of them had children with them.

After today, the situation for American wizards may not worsen further, but there are no signs of improvement either. The bloody scars won't heal quickly, and the barrier between them is like a chasm; they will continue to hide their identities for a long time to come.

"President Greenstinch, all members of the Reformation Society support your decision," Yuria said softly but firmly. "We are the chosen generation."

Horace Greenstinch opened the box, and several Aurors leaned over to look down. A long staircase stretched down, where wizards from all over the country lined up silently. They would live in new accommodations arranged by the Federation and the Pan-Magical Alliance, with the first choice being countries that had already signed contracts with wizards.

Horace Greenstinch repeatedly reminded the wizarding families passing by, "There's plenty of food and water inside, and different scenery to see... It's like taking a train ride, nothing to worry about." As dawn broke, the long queue thinned out, until only staff remained. Felix stood at a distance, pretending to gaze at the abstract city, because when he looked at others, they immediately wore amiable, docile smiles. This struck him as odd. The seawater was crystal clear, seaweed and algae floating on the waves, and schools of fish, outlined by simple lines, seemed to soar through the sky, lifelike—except for being frozen by magic.

Finally, Horace Greenstinch came over and handed the box to Felix.

"This contains a thousand wizarding families," he said solemnly.

"They won't be hurt," Felix assured him. "They'll have a chance to come back later." He added reassuringly.

"I know," Horace Greenstinch murmured. Wizards' identities are not in the hands of the Muggle government, but that doesn't mean wizards will move around at will. If given a choice, they would prefer to stay in familiar surroundings unless absolutely necessary—the large-scale migration of wizards in the British wizarding world occurred when Voldemort was at his most unbridled.

After handing over the box, Horace Greenstinch breathed a sigh of relief, as if the long-standing pressure had suddenly vanished. For him, the next task was to hide the remaining wizards as much as possible; he even had the mood to joke:

"I thought you were going to make a giant flying carpet, but you used a suitcase instead."

"More or less," Felix said seriously. "I told reporters before that I would let them leave openly and honestly, and now we've only accomplished half of it."

"What's the other half?" Horace Greenstinch asked curiously, glancing suddenly behind Felix as if something else was hidden there, perhaps—as he put it—a flying carpet that could hold thousands of people.

……

Dozens of kilometers away from the port and coastline, Felix, Greenstinch, Uriah, and a few curious Aurors who had followed stood in the air, marveling to themselves. Beneath their feet was a field half the size of a Quidditch pitch, and—it really did seem to be a pitch—they looked up, quite certain that they could see ringed sticks in the thin air fifty feet above them, somewhat like the small plastic sticks children use to blow soap bubbles.

"The Hogwarts Quidditch pitch," Julia whispered. The others realized that this might be two sides of the same coin as the magic that enveloped New York Harbor: the former turned physical objects into blurry, intangible forms, while the latter was the opposite—condensing things from memory.

Horace Greenstinch was still reeling from the shock.

An island, a floating island—putting aside the immense magical power required (which, after the previous events, he figured might not be much for Hyp), simply considering how to maintain the magical effect for a long time was an insurmountable challenge. In his imagination, if the entire Magical Congress of the United States worked day and night, casting thousands upon thousands of levitation charms, it might indeed be possible to raise an artificial island several kilometers in diameter, but such a massive spectacle could only last for a week or two at most, which, in his view, was somewhat impractical…

Perhaps this is Haipu's purpose?

Horace Greenstinch seemed thoughtful. Crossing an area of ​​sea before the magic wore off, demonstrating the wizard's power, was indeed a significant act. Felix's body blurred, and he appeared in the distance. His eyes gleamed with silver light, magical symbols twinkling, and his pupils reflected the deep, dark image of a book of runes—

He opened his mouth and slowly and deeply uttered the incantation.

In an instant, the light that had gradually brightened behind him seemed to be swallowed up, tearing open a large, dark green hole, as if someone had torn away a bright blue background during a movie shoot to reveal a dirty, dark green curtain behind it. Felix then exuded an aura of mystery. Lightning-like streaks flashed across the background behind him, and then both the dark green background and the lightning streaks began to dent and distort, their shape becoming increasingly clear—it was a giant serpent, dark green being the color of its body, and lightning the folds of its scales—after spending half a month by the Black Lake, Felix's new guardian spirit was revealed to the world for the first time. Its size reached an astonishing several thousand feet, and this was far from its limit.

Felix found himself never as powerful, as close to the essence of magic, and as close to having his wishes fulfilled as he had ever been at this moment.

He was still an archmage, and he didn't believe his understanding of magic surpassed Dumbledore's, but every cell in his body was sending him a message—even if all the archmages of history were combined, they couldn't defeat him now. This was because he had gathered most of the magic power accumulated from eleven of the world's most prestigious magic schools, and this magic power had just been contained within the Book of Runes and released through a new Patronus.

Guardian deity...

Felix felt that calling it a guardian deity was a bit unfair. The magic had been completely transformed under his constant refinement, and a closer look would leave one speechless at the knowledge it contained: Rowena Ravenclaw's memory nodes, memory magic, the branch of memory magic called emotion magic, ancient magic, and the technique he had recently mastered for constructing stable magical channels...

The giant serpent merged into the sea like a fish, without making a ripple. But Felix knew that it was drawing nourishment from the ocean—absorbing the reefs and seabed rocks beneath the soft seawater sediment into its body to grow stronger.

A few minutes later, the entire sea began to tremble and boil, the water surging and swirling like nesting dolls. Everyone present stared intently at the shadow beneath the surface; a massive black shape was approaching them. Finally, the shadow emerged, and they stared in horror at the enormous snake head, speechless. It had grown several times larger than before, and unlike its previous elegant form, its head was now covered by thick reefs and hard seabed rocks. The rough surface looked extremely ferocious, and from the gaps between the rocks, demonic symbols could be seen glowing!

The giant serpent leaped out of the water, as if a small piece of land had suddenly risen. Hundreds of meters of waves were insignificant before it, comparable only to a rough scale on its massive body.

The sheer awe this giant serpent caused was unimaginable. At least, it wasn't just Greenstinch and the surrounding Aurors who were stunned. By the time they recovered, the serpent had coiled itself into a rough cone shape, its massive head drooping and its tail curving upwards, head and tail intertwined.

"A cone ice cream." A female Auror's eyes widened. "A cone ice cream with a bite taken out of it." The people around her couldn't help but gasp. A bearded Auror angrily roared at her, "Nonsense, it's clearly an ouroboros, although it looks a bit strange, like it's twitching..."

The others echoed in hushed tones. They had learned from the news that the archmage had once chosen the ouroboros as a symbol of his identity. Such a unique symbol was not uncommon in wizarding history, and if the wizard became famous enough in the future, the symbol he chose in his youth might very well become his family crest.

And there's something they didn't mention: the name Ouroboros sounds much better than a cone ice cream, even though the latter is a better fit in shape... Felix didn't hear this insightful discussion; he didn't do it intentionally. It was the easiest way to keep the magic channels open.

These people quickly approached, and only when they used flying brooms and Apparition to reach the floating island that had appeared out of thin air did they realize something was wrong—the ground was filled with the salty smell of seawater, the terrain was undulating, and it was visibly beginning to collapse and disintegrate. A deep crack extended backward from Felix Heap's feet, and there were unsettling "crackling" sounds all around.

Everyone could see that the magic might be malfunctioning. And indeed it was; the giant serpent had 'eaten' too many seabed rocks and was now suffering from indigestion…

Felix stood on a raised platform, roughly on the flattest diamond-shaped scale where the snake's head was raised, about ten feet long. His suspended hand remained motionless.

"Mr. Hyp!" Horace Greenstinch called urgently, but a deep voice suddenly rang in his ear, "Don't disturb him." Horace Greenstinch was startled; he would never forget the owner of that voice—the one who had triggered the wizarding crisis, made an unbreakable vow with Arkinbad, and tricked everyone—

"Grindelwald!" he cried out.

He instinctively raised his wand, his mind in turmoil. The first thought that formed in his mind was: It's over, Grindelwald has seized the opportunity and is about to make a move on Mr. Hyp!

"Don't worry," Grindelwald grinned, "I'm here to help."

The remaining dozen or so wizards gathered around, and when they heard Horace Grindelwald ask warily, "How can I trust you?" they were momentarily confused. Grindelwald said nothing, but simply waved his empty hand, and everyone understood.

If Grindelwald were hostile, he wouldn't have stopped to explain. Horace Grindelwald hesitated slightly before stepping aside. Grindelwald walked unhurriedly toward Felix, and Grindelwald called after him, "Grindelwald... sir, don't forget, we are wizards."

Grindelwald paused briefly and repeated, "You're right, we are wizards."

The group watched as Grindelwald and Felix stood side by side, his head slightly tilted as if they were talking in hushed tones. Though they couldn't hear what they were saying, the crack beneath Mr. Hyp's feet stopped widening. Their feelings were complex.

"Grindelwald..." the crowd murmured the name.

This whole scene was, of course, Felix's doing. He had indeed run into trouble—not because of a lack of magic power, as he now possessed an abundance—but because of how to multitask, maintaining the massive size of the floating island while simultaneously constructing stable magic channels. Both tasks were equally tedious and important. But the solution was simple: split the task in two, and the difficulty would be drastically reduced.

However, just as Felix was about to do so, a sudden idea struck him: he could take this opportunity to resolve the issue of the merging of the African magical world, a problem he had been unable to address for some time.

At this moment, Felix and his other self looked at each other in bewilderment.

"What are we going to talk about?"

"God knows, just act a little more intimate."

"That's true. Anyway, it's to show the outside world that the two sides have reached a reconciliation, and incidentally, to clear Grindelwald's name. The old man has done bad things his whole life, but these recent events have nothing to do with him..."

There was a brief silence after that.

"Have you thought this through? This face will never appear again..." Grindelwald asked cautiously.

"I've thought it through, and I can handle the responsibility."

The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays shining on the sea. Grindelwald had vanished, leaving only Felix. He gazed confidently at the horizon, where the distant spray refracted the sunlight into rainbows, a truly magnificent sight.

After a painful birth, the land beneath his feet shrank, but the reefs and seabed rocks became more tightly connected, no longer a pile of loose sand, and truly took on the outline of an island. With the basic magic channels now complete, based on the amount of magic he invested, he calculated that the island could float in the air for several years.

Moreover, many wizards will surely live on the island in the future, and the magic emanating from them will be collected—like the ancient defense system of Hogwarts—to maintain the existence of the floating island itself, forming a virtuous cycle.

The Sorting Hat really came in handy… Felix thought to himself. But would the wizards living on the island in the future be considered his subjects? Probably not; at most, he'd own them. Felix reluctantly imagined himself piloting a floating island for the next few years, shoveling appropriately sized rocks from the ocean like a scavenger to expand his territory.

There's no need for one person to do it all; this place will become a true window into the fusion of two societies… Felix thought to himself, watching Horace Greenstinch walk towards him, a smile playing on his lips. "A place where magic and technology merge."

"What did you say, Felix?" Horace Greenstinch asked, though he vaguely heard it.

"I've been thinking about the future of this island beneath our feet," Felix said seriously, his thoughts continuing to wander. Wizards—well, he himself actually had the ability to build an underwater city deep in the ocean, but this idea lingered in his mind for a while before he shelved it—for reasons similar to building a wizard's stronghold on the moon, both approaches would cause wizards and ordinary people to drift further apart, contrary to the original intention.

However, secretly building a resort in the Mariana Trench would be quite a good idea...

Felix suddenly frowned, took out a communication mirror from his ring, and frantically banged on the frame of Akinbad's photo.

"Babajid?"

"Felix? Thank goodness, I finally got in touch with you!"

"What happened?" Felix asked calmly, then, considering the other's situation, "Didn't we discuss the whole plan? As the representative of the Federation, you participated in the live television broadcast, providing an objective explanation from a wizard's perspective—"

"The problem is that there are rumors that you plan to create a giant meteorite and destroy the entire Americas!" Akinbad's face distorted in the microphone.

Felix was stunned.

"Who's spreading this rumor?" He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Hundreds of satellites were watching him from above. After thinking for a moment, he casually came up with a reason: "Just say—well, the International Wizarding Federation and the Pan-Magic Alliance are planning to hold a Christmas bonfire party to celebrate the liberation of American wizards from the clutches of evil."

(End of this chapter)